Category: English

1 This time, I defied my parents, refusing their carefully laid plans for a strategic alliance, a marriage to Eleanor Hayes. In my previous life, I had embraced that union, marrying her with an open heart, only to find her affections hopelessly tethered to Julian Thorne, the phantom of her past. He was her “one who got away,” the man she truly loved. She wove a web of deceit around me for decades, and then, on my deathbed, her gentle, caring facade shattered. Her face twisted into a mask of pure fury as she unleashed her venom. “If your family hadn’t used their business dealings to force my parents into marrying me off to you, Julian and I would have been gloriously happy forever!” “Julian’s tragic death, a victim of his own spiraling depression? That’s all your fault!” “Every day I looked at you, I felt nothing but utter disgust. If it weren’t for raising Julian’s son, I would have dragged you with me long ago to atone for what you did to him!” “My child? There was no such thing! I bore Julian’s child!” So, even the boy I had raised as my own, showering him with love for years, wasn’t mine! A consuming, bitter resentment, a searing hatred, clawed at my chest as my eyes finally closed. But then, in the blink of an eye, I was back. Back to the very day my parents first proposed the alliance with the Hayes family. This time, my refusal was immediate, unequivocal. “Mom, Dad, I’m not marrying Eleanor Hayes!” Both my parents looked genuinely stunned, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion. Father, still processing, asked, “Didn’t you, from childhood, always badger us about marrying that Hayes girl? You swore she was the one!” He was right, of course. Everyone in our social circle knew I’d trailed Eleanor around since we were kids, even proclaiming I’d marry no one but her. In my past life, when our families decided on the alliance, I’d been overjoyed, agreeing without a moment’s hesitation. But I never dreamed Eleanor, who had never voiced any opposition, would come to hate me for it. She resented me for not opposing the union, for forcing her to sacrifice her happiness for her family’s business. She even blamed me for Julian Thorne’s eventual suicide from depression. Her hatred for me was so profound, yet for the sake of our families’ partnership, she dared not show a shred of it. She allowed me to raise a child that had no relation to me, only to deliver that crushing, final blow, leaving me to die consumed by hatred. Reborn, how could I possibly love such an ungrateful, venomous wretch? “Come on, Dad, who hasn’t made those kinds of childish jokes? I’m grown up now. I just don’t think she’s my type. I don’t want to marry her!” My parents exchanged a look. Mother, thoughtful, said, “The senior Hayes’ were still hoping to talk to your father and me about you becoming their son-in-law, to truly cement the bond between our families.” I blurted out, a desperate edge to my voice, “Mom, you didn’t agree, did you? Please tell me you didn’t!” Mother shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “No, I told them we’d need to ask you first.” Father chimed in, a surprising sense of relief in his tone, “Since our son feels this way, then we’ll drop it. Besides, I always had a gut feeling that Hayes girl didn’t truly care for our Ethan.” Mother nodded vigorously, a visible weight lifting from her shoulders. My parents finally decided they would decline the Hayes’ proposal in the next couple of days. It dawned on me then: my parents hadn’t actually been keen on the marriage in the first place. In my previous life, I was so utterly fixated on Eleanor that I’d completely missed these subtle cues, blinded by my own infatuation. This time, by refusing the alliance, she shouldn’t have anything to hold against me, right? But I hadn’t anticipated that the very evening my parents declined the Hayes’ proposal, Eleanor would call me. “Ethan Vance, what game are you playing?” Her voice was sharp, accusatory. “Eleanor Hayes, what on earth are you doing now?” I retorted, my patience wearing thin. “You know perfectly well!” she snapped back. “I’m asking why you refused the alliance? I don’t have time for your little mind games. If you want to marry me, fine, but don’t make things complicated!” I was somewhat surprised by her brazenness, but a moment later, a cold understanding dawned. At this precise time in the previous life, Mr. Hayes had made a critical business error. The company’s cash flow had dried up, pushing the Hayes family to the brink of bankruptcy. Eleanor later claimed that if Mr. Hayes hadn’t coerced her into sacrificing herself for the family business, she would have abandoned everything and run away with Julian Thorne. It seemed she was, once again, “forced” to try and win me back, her grand act of sacrifice. How utterly absurd. If she truly had the resolve to abandon everything, why would she come chasing after me? I said coldly, the words cutting like ice, “I don’t like you. Why can’t I refuse the alliance? Vance Corporation is perfectly sound; it doesn’t need to be saved by a marriage alliance.” “You don’t like me?! How is that possible!” Her voice shot up, stunned disbelief turning swiftly into raw anger. “And what do you mean by that last part? Are you implying my family isn’t worthy of an alliance with yours?!” She accused me, her voice dripping with venom, “I never thought you’d be so opportunistic!” I stated calmly, my voice flat, “You misunderstand. I simply don’t wish to interfere with your destiny with Mr. Thorne.” Her voice faltered, tinged with panic. “What are you saying? Julian and I are completely innocen—” Her words cut off abruptly. I chuckled, a humorless sound. “I didn’t mention his name, did I? Anyway, I wish you both boundless happiness. Goodbye!” I wished them an eternal entanglement, a life hopelessly chained together, so they’d never bother me again. But the Hayes family didn’t give up. After that, they bothered my parents relentlessly, every few days, trying to persuade them to agree to the alliance. I was beyond annoyed, beyond frustrated. To escape their incessant badgering, I traveled abroad for a month, hoping for peace. The day I returned home, the Hayes family, all three of them, showed up at our doorstep. Over that month, Hayes Corp.’s situation had only worsened. Mr. Hayes had already accumulated massive debts trying to save the company. Without new investment, it was a dead end. From then on, there would be no chance of recovery, only an inescapable abyss of lifelong debt. The three of them entered, their expressions varied, a telling tableau of their desperation. Mr. Hayes looked haggard, his shoulders slumped. Mrs. Hayes was overtly anxious, wringing her hands. Eleanor, however, wore a frigid expression, her eyes blazing with humiliated fury. I looked at Eleanor. She was still the same as she had been at this time in my previous life. Back then, she was always melancholy, shrouded in a dark cloud, often drinking herself into a stupor. Seeing her like that, I’d assumed she was unhappy about the alliance. Though it pained me, I told her I could convince my parents to call it off. But she had consoled me, saying she was willing to marry me, just unhappy that her father would drag our family down for his failing company. I was deeply moved. To make her happy, I convinced my parents to use most of our liquid assets to save Hayes Corp. This caused Vance Corp. to miss out on crucial growth opportunities, allowing the Hayes family to eventually gain an unfair advantage over us. Thinking about it now, her deep sorrow back then, the reason she drank so much, was likely because she couldn’t be with Julian. Mr. Hayes, seeing Eleanor’s stubborn silence, smacked her sharply on the back. “Are you mute?! Say something!” Eleanor still kept her lips pressed tight, a defiant line. She glanced at me, then her gaze flickered away, unable to hold eye contact. Seeing she wouldn’t budge, Mr. Hayes forced a smile, a pathetic, strained grimace. “Oh, this silly girl heard Ethan was coming home today, and she just had to rush over herself. “She and Ethan had some misunderstanding a while back, and she’s been regretting it, but she’s too embarrassed to say anything. So she insisted we come along and make fools of ourselves.” Mr. Hayes chuckled, a hollow sound, but I knew his game: he was merely using his senior status to make it awkward for me to refuse outright. As long as I didn’t explicitly refuse today, they’d have room to maneuver, and would certainly press their advantage later, like a snake following a stick. Mrs. Hayes also forced a smile, equally strained. “Eleanor told us. Julian Thorne is just a casual friend of hers. She saw he was having a hard time and merely looked out for him a bit more. It’s just that Eleanor and Ethan were both hot-headed that day, exchanging sharp words, which led to this misunderstanding.” The implication was clear, accusatory: I hadn’t been calm enough, I shouldn’t have argued with their precious, innocent daughter. With that, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes subtly nudged Eleanor, giving her pointed looks, urging her to play her part. Eleanor hesitated for a long moment, then, as if pulling teeth, she reluctantly began, “Ethan, you truly misun—” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “I understand. You and Julian Thorne are just casual friends, correct?” Mr. Hayes eagerly jumped in, relief flooding his face. “Yes, yes! Exactly!” He visibly relaxed, smiling. “It’s good that the misunderstanding is cleared up. It would be such a waste for two young people to miss out on a wonderful union over something like this.” I feigned shock, my expression a theatrical marvel. “Mr. Hayes, are you misunderstanding? Eleanor and I are also just casual friends! Besides, I’m still young, and I’m not in a rush to get married.” The Hayes family’s faces instantly cycled through a kaleidoscope of emotions—from shock to disbelief, then to utter despair and finally, raw fury. A truly spectacular sight. Eventually, my parents politely ushered the family of three out, not even inviting them to stay for dinner. After they left, Mother still seemed a little uneasy. “Ethan, were you truly sincere about what you just said? You really don’t want to marry Eleanor?” I nodded vigorously, emphatically. “Never more sincere, Mom. I genuinely don’t like Eleanor Hayes at all. You can be one hundred and twenty percent sure! Put all your worries aside!” I found it both amusing and a little frustrating, but I knew my past actions and words had fueled their worry. Thankfully, the Hayes family was on the verge of bankruptcy. Once their empire crumbled, my parents, seeing my unwavering indifference, would surely be completely reassured and drop the matter for good! A few days later, a friend from my circle returned home from overseas. A group of us arranged a gathering to welcome him back, a casual get-together at a trendy downtown spot. During dinner, a friend gasped, looking at his phone, his eyes wide. “Well, that’s certainly… bold.” He then sent the video to the rest of us, sharing it in our group chat. In the video, a man was embracing a woman, pressed against a lamppost on a busy street, passionately kissing her, utterly oblivious to the world. A car with its headlights on drove past, illuminating the scene, and in that instant, I clearly saw the faces of the man and woman. It was Eleanor Hayes and Julian Thorne. I smiled, a cold, knowing curve of my lips, tapping to save the video. This was a good piece of evidence. Perhaps it would come in handy later. That night, after I showered and was about to turn off the lights and get into bed, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Eleanor. Her words were slurred over the phone, thick with alcohol, as if she were heavily intoxicated. “Ethan Vance,” she mumbled, her voice thick, “Julian and I have talked. I’m getting married, and I won’t be seeing him anymore.” I yawned, feigning disinterest. “Congratulations.” She sounded desperate, a frantic edge to her voice. “Ethan Vance, you know what I mean! I’m marrying you!” I said casually, my voice flat, “Eleanor Hayes, I believe I’ve already made myself clear. You and I are just casual friends. I only see you as a casual friend. Who you separate from, or who you marry, has nothing to do with me.” Eleanor sounded exasperated, her voice rising in frustration. “Ethan Vance, I’ve lowered myself enough! Take the easy way out before you push it too far. Be careful, or I might really not marry you, and then you’ll have nowhere to cry!” “Oh, oh, oh,” I drawled, bored. “Are you done? Great. Now please take your noble ‘easy way out’ with you. I don’t want it, thanks. I’m very tired. Goodbye!” With that, I hung up, ending the charade. A few days later was Mr. and Mrs. Hayes’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration, a lavish affair. In my past life, Mr. Hayes had announced our families’ alliance on this very day. This time, of course, the Vance and Hayes families would not be uniting. However, judging by that phone call, Eleanor hadn’t given up. The Hayes family might try something at the party, a last-ditch effort. But thankfully, with the video my friend sent me earlier, I was well prepared. On the evening of the banquet, the Hayes family of three waited anxiously at the grand entrance. They looked overjoyed to see us arrive, their smiles strained. Honestly, if we could, our family would rather not have come. But the Hayes family and ours had at least been on good terms before. Now that they weren’t completely bankrupt yet, if we cut ties the moment they fell on hard times, people would inevitably call us heartless. Father, always one for propriety, had also prepared a generous gift, coming to offer his congratulations, a final formality. As soon as we walked in, Mr. Hayes beamed, his face overly jovial. “Mr. Vance, you’re too kind! Your presence is gift enough, why bring presents!” Mrs. Hayes nudged Eleanor, then smiled at me, a calculated sweetness. “Ethan, Eleanor here says she has something private to tell you.” This time, Eleanor wasn’t sneering or annoyed like last time. Instead, she looked at me with a soft, gentle expression, perfectly playing the part. Then Mrs. Hayes turned to my parents. “With us elders here, these young ones might feel awkward discussing personal matters. Let’s go chat somewhere else for a bit.” My parents looked at me, a silent question in their eyes. I gave them a reassuring look, a subtle signal that they shouldn’t worry, I had everything under control. Once my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had left, Eleanor leaned in, her voice a low, intimate whisper. “Ethan, I’ve missed you so much. “I don’t know why you suddenly became so cold to me, and that huge misunderstanding… the truth is, you’re the one I’ve always loved…” A jolt of pure revulsion went through me. I hastily took two steps back, putting distance between us. “Stop. Who you like or don’t like, I’m simply not interested. “I don’t know what I did or said wrong to make you misunderstand that I would marry you. “But let me say it again, right now, unequivocally: I only feel like a casual friend towards you. If you continue to pester me, if you try to make a scene, then I’ll simply have to find a way to ensure you never appear before me again.” Her right hand clenched tightly at her side, her knuckles white, clearly straining to control the rage simmering beneath her facade. After a long, tense silence, she suddenly laughed, a brittle, humorless sound. “Playing hard to get doesn’t suit you, Ethan Vance. It makes you look childish. “My offer still stands: take the easy way out. Don’t push me. Otherwise, you should know, I don’t need you. I have other options.” I deliberately made a retching sound, a loud, disgusted gag, then, ignoring her horrified, crimson face, turned and walked away. Midway through the banquet, Mr. Hayes took the stage to give a speech, his voice booming. After expressing a few effusive sentiments about his enduring love for Mrs. Hayes, he abruptly changed course, his voice swelling with false pride. “Ladies and gentlemen, I actually have some truly joyous news to announce today!” “My beautiful daughter, Eleanor Hayes, is soon to tie the knot with the distinguished Mr. Ethan Vance!” At his brazen declaration, all eyes in the opulent ballroom swiveled to our family, a collective gasp rippling through the crowd. My parents’ faces immediately darkened, their expressions turning stony. After Eleanor’s phone call that day, the Hayes family hadn’t bothered us again. My parents had assumed the Hayes had finally given up, which was why they had come to the celebration today out of respect for our families’ past relationship. They never expected Mr. Hayes to pull such a blatant, desperate stunt. Eleanor, too, began walking toward me, her smile fixed, a triumphant glint in her eyes, holding out a gleaming ring. “Ethan, we’ve known each other since childhood, growing up together. All these years, I’ve never imagined marrying any man but you. “I told you long ago I’d marry you, and now I’m here to fulfill that promise, to make us truly one. “Marry me, Ethan.”

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The day the Grand Army returned victorious, I cradled Silas and joined the bustling crowds. Silas pointed at the general on horseback, who held a young child in his arms, and asked me, “Mama,” he chirped, “that man looks just like the papa in the painting!” My grip on Silas tightened, knuckles whitening. “Nonsense,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “That’s not him.” He once was, perhaps. But now, he wasn’t. And he never would be again. He had ascended to the heights of ambition, and I, a mere mortal, couldn’t have tethered him even if I’d dared. 1 Ten years ago, a orphaned, destitute waif, I offered myself for indenture to bury my parents. It was Aunt Eleanor Miller, the kind but stern baker, who bought my freedom with the meager coins earned from her daily bread. She handed me a pouch of silver, urging me to buy coffins and lay my parents to rest. Then, with a gruff but decisive air, she formally adopted me into her household, giving me a home and a future. After burying my beloved mother and father, I arrived at Aunt Eleanor’s humble cottage, a small bundle of belongings clutched in my hand. Aunt Eleanor was fierce, her gaze cutting enough to remind you that her home was no sanctuary for idlers. “I took you in,” she declared, her voice firm. “You are now part of this family, and you’ll pull your weight. Tomorrow, you’ll rise with the sun, and I’ll teach you to grind the grain for baking. And during the day, you’ll learn your letters with Alistair. A woman, child, needs to read, lest she be easily deceived.” At barely five years old, I nodded furiously, my head bobbing like a dizzy bird. Aunt Eleanor settled me in the small lean-to beside her own room. It was barely large enough for a cot. That night, my pillow grew damp with silent tears. The next morning, at the first crow of the rooster, Aunt Eleanor called me to help her prepare the dough. Seeing my swollen eyes, she scoffed, “What’s with the dramatics at dawn? Wallowing in self-pity? Without a skill, you’re merely a pawn to be bought and sold. A person needs a craft, child, something to anchor them against the tide of hunger. You think your life is hard? You haven’t known hardship until you’ve walked in my shoes. Orphaned young, then widowed with Owen barely out of swaddling clothes. But you, child, you have me. You have the Millers.” I kept my head bowed low, daring not to utter a word of dissent. After her lecture, Aunt Eleanor began teaching me the baker’s craft. During the day, she and Ethan, her eldest, would carry baskets of fresh bread to sell in the market square. I would stay home, tidying the cottage. In the evenings, Alistair would return from his studies and teach me to read. This quiet routine continued for ten years. When I was fifteen, Ethan, who daily carried our bread to the county market, returned one evening with unsettling news. Whispers of war in the Northern Reaches had reached his ears. He dropped his heavy baskets, his face grim, and strode straight into Aunt Eleanor’s room. “Mother,” he declared, “I’m joining the army.” Aunt Eleanor refused outright. But Ethan was resolute. He refused to eat, to sell bread, or to speak, a silent protest that finally wore down his mother’s resolve. What mother could truly deny her son? Aunt Eleanor eventually relented. “You may join,” she said, her voice heavy with resignation, “but you must leave an heir.” Ethan’s mouth dropped open. “Mother, you jest! I’d leave a woman to a life of perpetual widowhood?” Aunt Eleanor glared at him. “If you understand that, then you shouldn’t be joining the army! You should be here, selling bread. Didn’t you once speak fondly of Violet, the scholar’s daughter? I have some savings. If you’re truly earnest, I’ll send for a matchmaker. If she agrees to marry you, I’ll use every coin I have for her dowry.” Ethan rejected the offer immediately. “Mother, I cannot ask her to live a life of solitary despair. Besides, if all our silver goes to my marriage, what about Alistair’s studies?” Aunt Eleanor’s face hardened. “If you can’t bear to leave her, then find another. No wife, no war. It’s final.” Ethan retreated to his room and didn’t emerge for the rest of the day. Later, when Aunt Eleanor and Owen had gone to sell bread, Ethan came to find me. “Willow,” he asked, his voice hesitant, “would you… would you consider marrying me?” “Why me?” The words tasted bitter, even as they formed. It was the question I most needed answered. Ethan didn’t try to hide the truth. “How much can Mother truly earn from her bakery? To drain her life’s savings for my dowry… I couldn’t bear the thought. Violet… she’s the woman I love. I couldn’t condemn her to a life of widowhood and despair. And you know Mother’s temper; she can’t abide idlers. Violet, she’s been delicately raised. If I brought her home, Mother would find fault. But you, Willow, you’re different. You grew up here, you know our ways. No dowry, no awkwardness between you and Mother. It’s… practical. Besides, the family’s coin is needed for Alistair’s education. You wouldn’t want to see his future squandered, would you?” My blood, which moments before had surged with a foolish hope, slowly cooled, chilled by Ethan’s blunt honesty. He laid it all out, so starkly, so rationally, that I had no rebuttal. Aunt Eleanor had taken me in. I was, in essence, bound to the Miller family. For the eldest son to propose marriage? It was, by all accounts, a stroke of immense fortune for a girl like me. “Very well,” I agreed to marry the eldest Miller son. When Aunt Eleanor and Owen returned, Ethan took my hand and led me to them. “Mother,” he announced, “I will marry Willow.” The coin purse Aunt Eleanor clutched in her hand slipped, scattering silver coins across the floor with a metallic clatter. She stumbled backward, then grabbed a broom, wielding it like a weapon as she advanced on Ethan. “I told you to find a wife, not to ruin Willow’s life!” she shrieked, swatting him. “I raised Willow as my own daughter! And you, you dare to exploit our kindness, twist it into some twisted sense of obligation?” Owen, meanwhile, quietly pried Ethan’s hand from mine. As Aunt Eleanor thrashed Ethan, Owen chimed in, “It must be Big Brother coercing her, Mother! Willow would never be so forward!” Amidst the ensuing chaos, Aunt Eleanor finally tired. Panting, she lowered the broom and turned to me. “Willow, are you truly willing to marry Ethan?” I smiled and nodded. Ethan was right. I couldn’t bear the thought of Aunt Eleanor’s hard-earned savings, accumulated through years of early mornings and late nights at the bakery, all handed over as a dowry. The Miller family had so many needs for their coin. Ethan would need funds for his campaign. Alistair, with his sharp mind, would need substantial money for his Imperial Exams. We couldn’t let the lack of an heir doom his academic path. And Owen, with his passion for culinary arts, would need funds for his own shop. Aunt Eleanor sighed. “You don’t have to sacrifice your entire life.” I quickly shook my head. “Aunt Eleanor, I am willing.” She said nothing more. A mother’s desperate wish for an heir, and the girl she had paid for and raised – Aunt Eleanor knew which was more important in the eyes of society. A modest feast with a few neighbors was all it took. Ethan and I were wed. On our wedding night, Ethan’s rough, calloused hands gently traced my cheek. His touch was surprisingly tender. “My dear wife,” he murmured, “I must ask you to honor my memory while I am away.” Then, his movements became crude, and I almost fainted from the pain. He spoke of treating me like a sister, yet showed no mercy. Ethan labored until the early hours of the morning before finally ceasing. I was utterly exhausted and did not stir until the sun was high. When I finally opened the door, Owen informed me that Ethan had packed his bags and departed at dawn. A month later, I began to vomit uncontrollably. Aunt Eleanor sighed again, then took me to the village healer. I was with child. 2 A year passed in a blur. Silas was two months old. Alistair had passed his Licensed Scholar exams, bringing home a small stipend from the county. Aunt Eleanor, beaming, planned to use the money, along with her meager savings, to purchase a small house with a storefront in the county town. She hadn’t even begun to look for a property agent when Alistair came rushing back to the village. His scholar’s cap was askew, and he was panting, breathless, when he burst through the door. “Mother,” he gasped, “the South is in chaos! Refugees are everywhere! Master Davies says we must flee north!” At his words, Owen suddenly yelped, “My bakery stall! What about it? I just started it up!” Aunt Eleanor and Alistair both glared at him. I clutched Silas tighter, my hands trembling. If we fled north, what would happen if Ethan returned and couldn’t find us? Seeing my distress, Alistair gently took Silas from my arms, murmuring comforting words to the baby. A quarter of an hour later, Aunt Eleanor made her decision. Pack only what was essential. We would head north. Alistair had persuaded eight other families from our village, along with his own tutor, Master Davies, and his family, to join us. Master Davies secured our travel permits. The very day they arrived, we left Valeria and headed north. The chaos in the South spread faster than anyone had imagined. At the city gates of Valeria, the guards reviewed our permits. One of them nodded to Alistair. “You were wise to leave.” Alistair subtly slipped a silver coin into the guard’s hand. The guard leaned closer, whispering, “The South is utterly engulfed in rebellion. Prince Aldrich of the Southern Marches has risen, and his forces have razed every town they’ve touched! The county magistrate has declared that in three days, no one from the South will be permitted entry, fearing they might be rebels. If you wish to be truly safe, you should travel two more cities north, to the hamlet of Stonehaven near the capital. It’s vast and sparsely populated, exactly where new settlers are needed.” Alistair thanked the guard for the warning, then guided our small caravan forward. We traveled for another ten days, finally reaching Stonehaven, just as the guard had described. It was indeed a quiet, sprawling place. Our group rented temporary rooms at the town’s small inn. Everyone soon agreed to pool their resources, purchase a large plot of land on the outskirts of town, and construct a shared compound – ten small cottages within a single large enclosure. The bonds forged on the arduous journey had become strong. Three months later, the compound was complete, and we all moved into our new homes. Owen’s grin stretched from ear to ear. The new kitchen had been specially designed for him; he had been growing weary of his apprenticeship at the town’s tavern for the past three months. Now, with a new home, he could experiment with new recipes to his heart’s content. Alistair, meanwhile, continued his studies under Master Davies. He had learned much about governance and the common folk during our journey. Master Davies believed, without a doubt, that Alistair would be ready to test his mettle in the Imperial Exams the following autumn. 3 Another three years passed, and we moved again, this time from Stonehaven to Kingsport, the capital itself. Two years prior, Alistair had astonished everyone by placing first in the provincial Imperial Exams, earning the title of Top Scholar of the Province. With a letter of recommendation from Master Davies, he was accepted into the Royal Collegiate. Naturally, we followed him to the capital. Upon our arrival in Kingsport, Aunt Eleanor publicly introduced me as her distant niece, whose husband was fighting in the Northern wars, and who had come with her young son to seek refuge with her. Alistair dedicated himself to preparing for the next round of Imperial Exams. Owen and I took on the responsibility of supporting the family. Aunt Eleanor, in turn, became Silas’s primary caretaker. Owen and I opened a small eatery together. He was the head chef, and I managed the front of the house. Business boomed. We were busy from dawn till dusk, even hiring several assistants. We earned roughly fifty silver coins a month – enough to purchase ten girls like my former self. One day, I overheard some patrons discussing the latest news. “I hear a grand victory has been won in the Northern Reaches,” one said. “The Grand Army is due to return to the capital any day now.” “Don’t just listen to rumors,” another scoffed. “My son sent word. They’ll be back in two days!” I listened intently. A victory in the North? Ethan had gone North. I wondered if he was even still alive. At another table, a group of young men, clearly of noble birth, were also speaking. “Is Duke Consort Maxwell returning as well?” one asked. “Indeed,” another replied. “Word is he married some common general’s daughter.” “Not just married,” a third interjected, “I hear she’s already borne him a child!” “Someone actually dared to marry that harridan, Lady Isolde?” A wave of laughter erupted from the table. “Oh, come now, do you think everyone is as discerning as we noble gentlemen? Those common soldiers, if a powerful hand reaches out, they’ll cling to it like a drowning man!” Lady Isolde, the woman they spoke of, was a renowned warrior, a lady general whose prowess rivaled any man’s. I wondered who had been fortunate enough to catch her eye. 4 The day the Grand Army returned to Kingsport, Alistair specifically requested leave from the Royal Collegiate. Now twenty-one, Alistair possessed the radiant countenance of polished jade and eyes that sparkled like distant stars. He bowed deeply to me. “Willow,” he said, his voice gentle, “I would be honored if you and Silas would accompany me to witness the Grand Army’s return today.” I nodded in agreement. Even if he hadn’t asked, I would have gone. I yearned to see if Ethan was among the returning soldiers. For five years, the Miller family had sent countless letters to the border garrisons, yet not a single reply had ever arrived. I wondered if Ethan was still alive. If he was, why had he sent no word home for five long years? After we were ready, Alistair cradled Silas in his arms and led me to the main thoroughfare. He guided me to a window seat on the second floor of a tea house overlooking the street – a spot he had reserved a month in advance. This meant he had known about the army’s return for weeks, yet he had never mentioned it at home. The vantage point was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that I could clearly see Ethan, astride his warhorse, accepting a young child from the red-clad woman riding beside him. His gaze, as he looked at the child, was brimming with fatherly affection. That child bore a striking resemblance to Silas. Silas, sensing my distress, pointed at the general again. “Mama,” he chirped, “that man looks a bit like Uncle Alistair, doesn’t he?” Alistair, standing beside me, must have seen it too. He, who was usually so composed, so unperturbed by anything, now cast his gaze downward, a hint of guilt in his posture. Silas, oblivious to his uncle’s sudden silence, continued to point. “No, wait!” Silas’s eyes widened. “He looks more like the papa in the painting! But Mama, why is Papa holding someone else’s baby?” The “papa in the painting” was a portrait Alistair had drawn for Silas, to help him recognize his father. I glanced around, ensuring no one was paying us any heed, then frantically covered Silas’s mouth. “Nonsense!” I choked out, my voice raw. “That’s not your papa.” He once was, perhaps. But now, he wasn’t. And he never would be again. He had ascended to the heights of ambition, climbed to a position of power, and found his heart’s desire. Silas and I, we couldn’t have stopped him. Silas struggled, prying at my hand with his small fingers. Alistair stepped forward, bowing deeply to me. “I… I didn’t know…” His eyes, usually so clear, now held a rare flicker of remorse. I shook my head, cutting him off. “It’s nothing. It’s not your fault.” How could it be his fault? He had merely allowed me to witness the truth with my own eyes. A general riding a warhorse would be at least a fifth-rank official. And a fifth-rank general would certainly not be nameless. If he had a name, Alistair, a scholar at the Royal Collegiate, would surely know it. Knowing this, he would have investigated Ethan. I just wondered what would become of Silas now that Ethan had married into a powerful family. Alistair cleared his throat, his voice low. “I truly had no idea they had a child. This… this scene, it was not what I intended. I swear, Willow, the Miller family will make this right.” Silas blinked, looking from me to Alistair, his small face etched with confusion. “Uncle Alistair, is that Papa’s baby he’s holding? What about me, then? Will Papa recognize me?” Alistair reached out to embrace Silas, but for the first time, Silas pulled away from his uncle. “Uncle Alistair,” Silas whispered, his voice trembling, “Silas is… a little sad.” With that, he buried his face in my embrace, and in moments, his tiny shoulders began to tremble with silent sobs. Alistair looked utterly devastated. “Willow…” I spoke, cutting him off once more. “Let’s go home. Silas needs his nap.” Alistair nodded, his face etched with regret, and led us back to the cottage. 5 After I had finally lulled Silas to sleep, Aunt Eleanor herself came to find me. “Willow,” she said, her face a canvas of remorse as she came forward and took my hands, “Alistair told me.” I shook my head instinctively. “No, Aunt Eleanor…” She squeezed my hands. “Don’t you dare shake your head! My mistake is my mistake. My family, the Millers, we have exploited you. Ethan… he’s a disgrace. Listen to me, child, we’ll cast that faithless wretch aside. You choose: Alistair or Owen. They will marry you.” Aunt Eleanor’s words, so shockingly unconventional, stunned me. How had this conversation turned to Alistair and Owen? She continued to persuade me. “Alistair said the marriage contract between you and that faithless wretch is a forgery. If it’s a forgery, then you’re technically still unmarried. Since we came to Kingsport, I’ve told everyone you are my niece, and Owen calls you ‘Big Sister.’ No one knows our true relationship. If you don’t despise them, you can choose either of my two sons. He was unrighteous, so you have no obligation to remain bound to him.” Owen burst through the door, yelling, “Mother, have you lost your mind? Marry Willow off to me?” Aunt Eleanor shot him a dagger stare. “Your brother Alistair isn’t even married yet, it’s not your turn!” Owen bristled. “Mother, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Alistair’s feelings for Willow are as clear as day, and instead of stopping him, you’re encouraging him! Don’t you realize,” he gasped, his voice lowering in a dramatic whisper, “that someone with a compromised reputation can’t become a royal official?” Aunt Eleanor gave Owen a sharp slap. “And I don’t realize? I realize a great many things, young man! You listen to me: Willow is your cousin. And as for Silas, he is the posthumous child of her late husband.” Owen clutched his stinging cheek. “Big Brother is still alive! How can you, his own mother, wish him dead?” Aunt Eleanor grabbed her walking stick and swung it at Owen. “I’d rather he died out there than live to sicken me! In this life, I have been true to the heavens and to the earth, but to Willow… only to Willow do I feel I have wronged.” Owen dodged, still grumbling, “Who exactly is Big Brother sickening?” Aunt Eleanor’s stick whizzed faster. “He’s sickening me, you dog! To dare to marry another, and to have a child with her!” Owen stopped dodging. Aunt Eleanor’s stick, unchecked, landed heavily on his leg. He yelped in pain, clutching his shin. “Alistair never said Big Brother married again! Hmph, I thought I’d live a life of luxury with Big Brother as a general. Luxury, my foot!” Aunt Eleanor raised her stick again. “Luxury? His ‘luxury’ is something I wouldn’t touch. I’d fear the heavens’ wrath!” Owen quickly darted behind Alistair, who had just entered the room. “Mother, don’t hit me! Alistair’s here, hit him instead!” Alistair, facing his enraged mother, dropped to his knees. “Mother,” he said, his voice firm, “I wish to seek Willow’s hand in marriage.” I gasped, utterly horrified, and sank to the floor. “No!” I cried out, loud and clear. “I will not!” What a ridiculous notion! Alistair had dedicated decades to his studies; his Imperial Exams were just around the corner. He couldn’t risk his career, his reputation, for something so scandalous. Owen’s eyes widened. “Alistair, you’re incredible!” Aunt Eleanor, her anger momentarily forgotten, helped Alistair to his feet, a look of profound satisfaction on her face. “My good son.” I shook my head vigorously. “I will not! I will not marry Alistair!” Aunt Eleanor asked me why. “I have no romantic feelings for Alistair,” I stated honestly. Owen sighed dramatically. “Alas, unrequited love.” Alistair bowed to both of us, a sad smile on his face. “My apologies for my presumption.” He then rose, a slight stagger in his step, and quietly left the room. The commotion finally subsided.

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1 When Ethan Vance broke off our engagement, everyone said my life was over. For five years, I’d bent myself into knots to please him, and my reputation was already in tatters. No one, they claimed, would ever want a woman like me. When Ethan found new love, those around me waited for me to grovel, to beg for him back. But they didn’t know I had willingly taken my younger sister’s place, marrying into a family in Portsmouth through an arranged marriage. Before I left, I returned the treasured keepsake box Ethan had given me, along with the blank promise card he had penned as a boy. I left nothing behind, no trace. It wasn’t until the day before his engagement that Ethan suddenly spoke of me: “She hasn’t made a sound in all this time. Has Elara Sterling finally withered away?” And I, having just endured a night that brought me close to death in a different way, was being woken by my new husband’s kisses. “Elara, sweetheart, you promised four rounds, and not one less…” … That day, when Ethan suddenly declared he wanted to get married, I hadn’t seen him in three months. Our last encounter, I’d overheard him telling his friends he was utterly bored with me. The entire room had erupted in laughter. They laughed at me, at how I’d spent five years trying to please him, tarnishing my own name, only to be cast aside like worn-out rags. Those three months at the Sterling home had been brutal. Just days ago, Victor Sterling had come home drunk, and his hands had been heavy. The wounds on my back still throbbed faintly. So, when Ethan unexpectedly called me today, asking me to come over, a flicker of hope ignited in my chest. I specifically wore the jade bangles we’d exchanged on our engagement day and hurried to his villa. By the time I arrived, Ethan was already tipsy. He lay half-reclined on a young woman’s lap, his eyes closed. The girl looked like a student, innocent and pure. Seeing me enter, she, who was massaging Ethan’s head, stumbled, flustered, trying to rise. But Ethan’s hand clamped onto her wrist. “Just stay put.” He didn’t open his eyes, merely applied gentle pressure to her hand. She was pulled closer, her body pressing against his. Submissively, she lowered her head, allowing him to kiss her. He released her, then cupped her chin. The kiss was deep, the sounds echoing. I stood in the doorway, clutching my clutch, bewildered for a long moment. It took immense effort to compose myself, to feign indifference, and turn my gaze to the window. “I’ll go stroll in the garden for a bit. I’ll come back later.” No sooner had the words left my lips than Ethan scoffed. The girl beside him, ever so sensible, quickly stood up. “Perhaps I should leave first, and let her come over.” This time, Ethan didn’t stop her. He held her hand, idly toying with it for a moment, before reluctantly releasing it. “It’s cold outside, don’t catch a chill.” The girl smiled softly, nodded, her long, dark hair shielding most of her flushed face. As she passed me, she politely greeted me as “Sister,” then offered a gentle “hello.” I nodded back, returning her smile. She was very young, her eyes clear and guileless, her shy demeanor eerily reminiscent of my younger sister. “Elara Sterling, come here.” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, patting the empty space beside him. The intricate, splendid crystal chandelier cast dappled light, illuminating his face—narrow, sculpted, his features strikingly handsome. The play of light and shadow rendered him almost ethereal. For a moment, I felt a dizzying unreality, coupled with an inexplicable ache. Ethan’s languid eyes, shimmering with a hint of intoxication, were subtly reddened at the corners. His collar was loose, revealing a constellation of hickey marks on his collarbone and the side of his neck. “That girl was Seraphina Hayes.” I nodded. “Yes, I know.” “What do you think of her?” I thought for a moment, then answered earnestly. “She’s very innocent, very pure, very well-behaved.” Ethan nodded. “Doesn’t she remind you of yourself five years ago?” I froze. 2 Five years ago, I had just started university. In Ethan’s words when he pursued me, I was “so pure it made his heart ache.” Back then, he truly loved me. And he doted on me fiercely. He treated me as if I would melt if he held me too tightly. I was also his longest relationship. I even got engaged to him before graduating from college. Only, what a pity. The person I was now was unrecognizable, my reputation utterly ruined. Everyone in the Capital City knew. Knew how many shameless things I’d done just to cling to that prized catch. Back then, he said he was tired of my innocence and purity. To please him, I forced myself to change, to immerse myself in his depraved circle. I indulged his perverse tastes. He wanted sophistication, a fiery sensuality, an open boldness. I endured the humiliation, satisfying him one by one. Yet my desperate attempts to please him ultimately earned me only his scornful words. “Elara Sterling, you’re truly pathetic.” “Even the cheapest hooker isn’t as uninhibited as you are in bed.” “Look at you now, do you have even an ounce of a proper lady left?” When he first proposed breaking up, Victor Sterling threatened me with my younger siblings. To keep him, I’d slashed my wrists, I’d taken pills. I had done it all. Now, he stood before the unrecognizable me, saying he loved Seraphina. He loved that she reminded him of myself five years ago. I wanted to laugh, but the laughter wouldn’t come. “I truly like her. I want to give her a proper name.” “She’s not like you. She’s terribly timid, so pure. I have to take responsibility.” I wanted to say something, but my lips felt glued together. Not a sound escaped. After a long moment, I managed to force out a smile. “Alright, I understand.” “I can put in a good word for you with The Sterlings.” “No need. I’ll figure it out myself.” “As you wish.” He swayed as he stood up, pulled something from his pocket. It clattered onto the coffee table. My eyelids twitched violently. It was the token we’d exchanged when we got engaged. My biological mother’s relic: a matching jade pendant. What Ethan had given me was his mother’s wedding dowry: a pair of jade bangles. The very pair I now wore on my wrist. “Take off the bangles.” “Our engagement is off.” I looked up at him, his once languid eyes now cold, as if filled with frost. So when he said he wanted to get married, he hadn’t meant with me. The five years of companionship couldn’t compare to the fleeting thrill a new lover brought. I thought I would collapse, that grief would overwhelm me. But I didn’t shed a single tear. I calmly removed the jade bangles and returned them to him. Ethan’s brow subtly arched, a hint of surprise in his expression. But he took them, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. 3 News of Ethan Vance breaking off our engagement spread quickly. The expected brutal punishment never came. Only, I once again lost contact with my younger siblings abroad. I knew this was my father’s customary way of unleashing his wrath. He and my stepmother, Vivian, began scouring the Capital City for a suitable husband. They wanted to marry me off, to secure The Sterlings’ continued prosperity. But soon, ugly rumors began to circulate. They said that all these years, to please Ethan, I had done everything imaginable, that I was utterly used up, that I had even lost the ability to bear children. No one in the Capital City would be willing to take on a woman like me. Father’s temper grew increasingly volatile. My days became increasingly unbearable. The second month after Ethan broke off our engagement, another explosive piece of news spread through the circle. It was said he was getting engaged again, to Seraphina. Ethan had even defied his parents for her. The usual gossipmongers made sure the news reached me. I knew what they wanted to see. Nothing but boredom in their lives. And perhaps, a longing for the old days when they had a spectacle like me to entertain them. “Elara, I actually think Ethan still really likes you.” “You’re probably having a tough time now, aren’t you? Why don’t you go beg Ethan?” “He’s soft-hearted. If you cry a little, or even pretend to try to end it all, he might change his mind.” “Seraphina can’t compare to you, Elara. You’re much prettier than her.” I saw all the messages but didn’t reply. Instead, I poured my entire being into preparing for my own marriage. Just a week ago, I had knelt for an entire night. Finally, I convinced Father to agree to my taking my newly adult sister’s place, marrying into a family in Portsmouth. I’d heard that the eldest son of The Thornes, Dorian Thorne, was ruthless and cunning, yet wielded immense power, an uncrowned king in Portsmouth. But he was also said to have a fierce and unpredictable disposition due to a physical disability that confined him to a wheelchair. But I wasn’t afraid. To escape The Sterlings, to ensure my siblings’ freedom. I would welcome it all. Besides, I could no longer stand to be in the Capital City. Portsmouth might just offer a glimmer of hope. 4 Before my wedding, I met my best friend for dinner. While on my way to the restroom, I unexpectedly ran into Seraphina. She looked nothing like her previous self. She wore exquisite makeup and Dior’s classic little black dress, slender and alluring. A thin ladies’ cigarette dangled from her vibrant lips. “Miss Sterling, you’ve heard, haven’t you?” Seraphina looked at me, a provocative smile on her face. “Ethan Vance is getting engaged to me.” I looked at her, suddenly recalling her pure, shy demeanor when I first met her. For some reason, a wave of melancholy washed over me. “Yes, I heard.” Seraphina’s smile deepened. “Miss Sterling, are you very jealous?” “I heard you lost three of his children. All these years, you’ve done everything low and shameless just to keep him, to marry him.” She leaned against the window sill, her eyes alight with disdain and contempt. I looked at her coolly. “Miss Hayes, you just said yourself, you ‘heard.’ We’re both women; there’s no need to spread such vile rumors, is there?” Seraphina instantly scoffed. “It’s spread throughout the Capital City; how is it a vile rumor?” I didn’t want to waste my breath on her and turned to leave. But Seraphina suddenly said, in a strangely snide tone, “Miss Sterling, girls are not all the same. You have no self-respect. Didn’t your mother teach you anything before she passed away?” My steps halted abruptly. Hearing the word ‘mother,’ a surge of hot blood rushed to my head. I didn’t have time to think, couldn’t be rational. I spun around and slapped her. “Miss Sterling…” Seraphina froze for a moment, then immediately covered her face and began to cry pitifully. “I know it hurts you that Ethan and I are getting engaged, but you can’t just hit people…” “I understand you’re angry, but you can’t force feelings.” “Ethan doesn’t like a woman as… loose as you. It’s not my fault…” She sobbed, whimpering, sounding aggrieved and pathetic, but every word she uttered felt like a knife twisting in my heart. “I know your mother died young, and you had no one to guide you, Miss Sterling. I won’t pursue this matter… this time…” I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached, raising my hand to slap her again. But my arm was viciously seized by Ethan. “Elara Sterling, apologize to Seraphina.” “I won’t apologize.” I stood rigid, my back straight, my face pale, my lips colorless. But my eyes were bloodshot, shining with a dangerous intensity. 5 Ethan seemed surprised. Over the years, he had seen me as innocent and pure. He had seen me as obedient and docile. He had also seen me hysterical, sobbing, and clinging. I had been naive, alluring, cried, laughed, and made a fuss in front of him. But I had never been so calm, so distant, as I was at this moment. He pushed Seraphina aside and walked emotionlessly in front of me. “Elara Sterling, I’m only going to say this one last time: apologize to Seraphina.” I stared fixedly at him, then suddenly laughed. A laugh that was resolute, desperate. “Ethan Vance, I told you, I won’t apologize. I’ll die before I apologize…” A sharp slap suddenly echoed in the empty corridor. After delivering that blow, Ethan seemed to freeze. Seraphina covered her face, her eyes wide, similarly stunned and disbelieving. Only I slowly raised my hand to my stinging cheek, my eyes slowly reddening. “Elara Sterling…” Ethan instinctively stepped forward. But I immediately stepped back. His hand, which had been about to rise, abruptly dropped, and his face hardened again. “Elara Sterling, this is your own fault.” “If you had apologized just now, I wouldn’t have laid a hand on you.” Ethan’s voice was low and somewhat hoarse. “You know I never hit women.” “We’ve been together for so many years; I’ve never laid a finger on you.” “You shouldn’t have touched Seraphina today. I like her; it’s not her fault.” “Elara Sterling, stop making a scene. Save yourself some dignity.” He was usually a man of few words, never rambling on like this. But I didn’t hear a single syllable. My bloodshot eyes uncontrollably filled with tears. I desperately tried to hold them back, but I couldn’t. My tear ducts ached fiercely, and tears streamed down my face in large drops, as if they would never stop. Ethan, at some point, had tightly clenched his hands, his brows furrowed. Seraphina walked to his side and said obediently, “Ethan, let’s just go.” Ethan gripped her hand, but his gaze remained fixed on my face. “Elara Sterling, don’t try to bother Seraphina again.” “And don’t ever appear in front of Seraphina and me again.” “This is my final warning to you.” After he finished, he didn’t immediately leave with Seraphina. Instead, he stood there, watching me, as if waiting for my reply. But I said nothing, only lowered my head slightly. It felt as if I wanted to shed all the tears of my lifetime in this moment. After about thirty seconds, Ethan finally led Seraphina away. As he turned to leave, I suddenly spoke, my voice low. “Alright.” “I swear, I will never appear in front of you and Seraphina again in this lifetime.” Ethan’s tall, broad-shouldered back stiffened abruptly. But he quickly pulled Seraphina forward, walking on without a single glance back. Seraphina, however, turned to look at me. Her eyes were still tear-filled, but the corners of her lips were triumphantly turned up. I slowly lowered my hand. Good, I thought to myself. Five years of entanglement, that love-hate for Ethan, so deeply rooted in my heart. Now, in this moment, it was finally ripped out by the roots, severed completely. I could leave, unburdened, without a single regret, forever. 6 After returning that day, I received many messages and calls. A large portion were screenshots from Seraphina’s social media. The most prominent was the engagement ring she was flaunting. I closed my messaging app, still not replying. And I didn’t answer any of the calls. My face was still a bit swollen, so I got some ice and pressed it to my cheek for a while. When I came back, my phone showed a new account deposit notification. I was puzzled, and then shocked by the string of zeros. Before I could even count them, my phone rang. The three words flashing on the screen were saved by my own hand: Mr. Thorne. This was the first time Dorian Thorne had called me since our engagement was settled. My heart pounded a little faster. I took a few deep breaths before answering. “Miss Sterling, did you receive the money?” “Yes, I did.” “But, Mr. Thorne, you already sent the dowry…” I reminded him softly, wondering if someone around him had made a mistake. “The dowry was for The Sterlings. This sum of money is specifically for you.” I clutched my phone, stunned for a long moment, before I finally spoke in a low voice. “Mr. Thorne, you don’t have to do this.” “I was previously engaged, and my reputation isn’t good…” “It doesn’t matter.” Dorian’s voice was exceptionally deep and melodious, yet it carried a soothing power. I thought of the rumors about him: ruthless in his dealings, brutal in his methods, unpredictable and volatile. But in his voice now, there was absolutely no hint of any of that. “You said yourself, it was ‘before’.” “Everything before is in the past, Miss Sterling. Don’t dwell on it.” “You’re marrying far away. Anything you like, you can buy for yourself and bring to Portsmouth.” My eyes felt warm, welling up with tears, yet I couldn’t help but curve my lips slightly. “Mr. Thorne, thank you.” The news of my marriage to The Thornes had been kept completely under wraps. This was Dorian’s instruction. The Thorne family’s welcoming party had already arrived in the Capital City. With them there, The Sterlings were, naturally, on their best behavior. Thus, no one in the Capital City knew I was about to marry far away. Three days before my departure. All my luggage was packed. I looked at the exquisitely crafted keepsake box on my dressing table. And a yellowed, blank promise card. The keepsake box was a gift Ethan had given me when he pursued me. It had nine layers, filled to the brim with all sorts of jewelry. The blank promise card was a thank-you gift he’d given me when he was twelve. Of course, he’d long since forgotten it. I had actually considered using that promise card to make him agree to marry me. But in the end, I decided I didn’t want to waste my life on a man like him. The jewelry was too valuable, so of course, it had to be returned. The blank promise card bore his private seal. It, too, could not fall into the wrong hands. I carefully packed both items. Then I called Liam, Ethan’s personal assistant. “These items are very valuable. Please make sure to deliver them to him personally.” I repeatedly emphasized this. Liam, though still polite, was clearly impatient. “Miss Sterling, let me give you some well-meaning advice. Don’t waste your efforts anymore.” “Mr. Vance is about to get engaged. Let’s all just move on.” He thought I was playing tricks again, trying to reconcile. I wanted to explain. But he clearly couldn’t be bothered to humor me. He casually tossed the box into the trunk and drove off. 7 I quietly left the Capital City with the Thorne family’s welcoming party. Two days later, I met my future husband for the first time. The heir to The Thornes, Dorian Thorne. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, looking noble and handsome. Though seated in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a thin blanket, his posture was upright, his shoulders broad and powerful. It made you completely overlook his physical disability. “Elara Sterling.” He uttered my name in a low, resonant voice. I took a deep breath, walked quickly forward, and then slowly knelt. My gaze met his. I must have been incredibly nervous and shy, because I saw a tiny version of myself reflected in the dark depths of his profound eyes. My eyelashes seemed to tremble faintly. I secretly inhaled, gathered my courage, and reached out to gently take his hands, which rested on the blanket. “Mr. Thorne, hello. I’m Elara Sterling.” The moment my hand touched his, I seemed to hear gasps around me. But my nervousness was too overwhelming to heed them. Instead, I clutched his hands, unconsciously tightening my grip. Dorian didn’t push me away. His fingers were long and slender, his knuckles strong; my hand couldn’t fully encompass his. Just as I felt on the verge of suffocating from nervousness, Dorian suddenly clasped my cold fingers. His large palm completely enveloped my chilled hand, holding it tightly. “Elara Sterling, push me back to the room.” I quickly tried to stand, but as I rose, I swayed, nearly losing my balance. Dorian reached out at just the right moment, steadying my waist firmly. “Careful.” His hand released quickly. But my cheeks still felt faintly flushed. I murmured a soft “Mm,” took the wheelchair from the attendant, and pushed him into the room. The room door closed, and warm lights illuminated the space. Dorian looked at me, then pointed to his legs. The corner of his lips seemed to subtly curve, but it might have been my imagination. “My legs aren’t convenient, Elara. You’ll have to put up with me tonight.” I lowered my head, not daring to meet his gaze, and simply nodded softly. Then, somewhat uncomfortably, I raised a hand to pinch my earlobe, only to find it unusually hot to the touch… 8 Before his engagement, Ethan Vance hosted a party. His fiancée-to-be, Seraphina, wasn’t there, just his usual circle of fair-weather friends. After a few rounds of drinks, everyone grew a little out of hand. Someone, unable to hold their tongue, suddenly brought up Elara Sterling’s name. “Ethan’s dated so many, but Elara was still the prettiest.” “Yeah, we all agree on that.” “Honestly, if Ethan hadn’t laid down the law, I would’ve tried to date her.” “Get in line, kid, you’d have to wait your turn.” Their conversation grew increasingly inappropriate. At some point, Ethan set down his glass. He just leaned back on the sofa, watching them intently. The chatter slowly died down. “Uh, Ethan, we were just talking nonsense.” “Had a bit too much to drink, just messing around. Don’t take it seriously.” Ethan, however, smiled faintly. “Hearing you all talk, it did remind me of Elara Sterling.” “But, is she dead? She hasn’t made a sound in so long.” His voice sounded cold, almost nonchalant. As if he had truly only just remembered Elara. As if her death, even if it had happened, would be an insignificant matter. But the room suddenly fell silent. Liam, Ethan’s assistant, quickly offered a conciliatory smile. “Mr. Vance, I was remiss. I forgot to tell you.” “Just a few days ago, Miss Sterling asked me to deliver something to you. She said it was very valuable.” “I figured she probably wanted to reconcile, so I gave her a hint and stopped her from bothering you.” Ethan’s gaze, cool and indifferent, fell on Liam, and he even let out a soft chuckle. “Well, Liam, your nerve seems to be growing.” Liam jumped, quickly rising. “Mr. Vance…” “Since when do you decide what happens in my life?” “Yes, yes, I overstepped.” Liam bowed repeatedly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Ethan lowered his gaze, habitually twirling the ring on his middle finger. “Call her. Tell her to be there in thirty minutes.” Liam froze for a moment. “Mr. Vance?” Ethan turned his head, looking out at the dark night. “If she doesn’t make it, tomorrow, I’m truly getting engaged to Seraphina.” 9 When Liam’s call came, I was just climbing off Dorian Thorne’s lap, my face slightly flushed. He leaned by the window, watching my slightly swollen lips with a knowing smile. My ears burned. I took my phone and walked to the window to answer. “Liam,” I said, my breathing a little rapid, “Is there something you need?” Liam’s voice on the other end of the line was somewhat urgent. “Miss Sterling, Mr. Vance said to be at the old spot in thirty minutes. Otherwise, he’s truly getting engaged to Miss Hayes.” At his words, I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. The night was too quiet, and Dorian likely heard it too. He placed his water glass on the bedside table with a distinct clink. Liam on the other end of the phone also seemed to hear the movement and immediately asked. “Miss Sterling, it’s so late. Is there someone else with you?” In the past, I had always been compliant, accommodating Ethan’s every whim. Being on call was a regular occurrence. And I had always treated Liam, Ethan’s personal assistant, with utmost politeness, never lightly. But now, that would never happen again. “Liam, my private life is none of your concern.” I spoke slowly. “Furthermore, Ethan and I have already broken off our engagement; we have no ties whatsoever. Who he gets engaged to is irrelevant to me.” Liam seemed to panic immediately. “Miss Sterling, please don’t act impulsively out of spite. You’ll regret it deeply.” “Tomorrow is Mr. Vance’s engagement party with Miss Hayes. Tonight is your last chance to turn things around.” “I don’t need that chance.” My tone was calm and cool. “And, did you give Ethan the things I entrusted to you last time?” Liam fell silent for a moment. That cardboard box had been taken by Seraphina two days ago. And he, mindful of Seraphina’s status, had not stopped her. I reminded him again. “Liam, I’ll only say this once. Please hand it to Ethan personally, immediately.” When Liam spoke again, his voice was incredibly polite. “Miss Sterling, it would be better if you handed these things to Mr. Vance yourself.” “I told you, Liam, he and I have broken up, and I will not see him again.” I paused here, letting out a long, heavy sigh. “Liam, after you give him the things, I will delete your contact information. From now on, please don’t contact me again.” 10 After ending the call, I walked back to the bed with my phone. Dorian took the phone and casually tossed it onto the sofa beside the bed. He wrapped an arm around my waist, his warm breath fanning my face and the side of my neck. His long fingers gently traced the soft skin of my waist, sending shivers through me. I instinctively tried to pull away, but he held me tighter. “Elara, do you know it’s very rude to take an unimportant call in the middle of a kiss?” These past few days, I had been constantly by Dorian’s side. And he, for his part, kept saying that since we were about to hold our wedding and become true husband and wife, we should adapt to marital intimacy sooner. So every night before bed, we would embrace and kiss, then say goodnight. Since arriving here, my life had been incredibly comfortable, completely unlike what I had imagined. Dorian was nothing like the ruthless, volatile man of rumor. On the contrary, he treated me exceptionally well, and everyone around him too. Our feelings for each other were also rapidly warming. I had also reconnected with my siblings abroad. They were both safe and sound, their studies and lives completely unaffected. And as long as my marriage to him went smoothly, Dorian had promised me that my siblings would be free to live their own lives, no longer controlled by Victor Sterling and my stepmother. I was so incredibly eager for that day. Give a peach, get a plum in return. Dorian treated me well, so I had long since adjusted my mindset, genuinely seeing him as my husband. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but reach up, hook my arms around his neck, and lean in to give him a light kiss. “Mr. Thorne, is this enough of a compensation?” “Just one kiss, Elara?” I suppressed my shyness and kissed his cheek again. Then his chin, his Adam’s apple. When I kissed his Adam’s apple, Dorian’s body stiffened for a moment, and his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed up and down. “Good girl, Elara, not enough.” With that, he took control, cupping my jaw and lowering his head for a deep kiss. And this time, it was different from every kiss before. He kissed heavily, deeply, as if he wanted to devour me. And I, too, felt every reaction of his body. But I had no time to think of such things; I was utterly consumed by his kiss, my legs turning to jelly. The people in the distant Capital City were long since forgotten. My entire being was focused solely on the man before me. I don’t know how long passed before Dorian finally released me, his voice hoarse. “It’s late. Time to go back to bed.” “Elara, goodnight.” I rose from his lap, roughly straightening my disheveled clothes. I reached up to smooth my messy hair, said goodnight, and then turned to leave. My room was right next to Dorian’s. Lying down, just thinking that my future husband was living just a wall away, brought an immense sense of peace. I closed my eyes and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Long after the call ended, Liam remained standing there. But ultimately, he could only sigh deeply, a headache brewing, and walk into the room to relay my words to Ethan Vance. 11 After Liam spoke, Ethan’s expression remained unchanged, but the hand gripping his wine glass was clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. Liam, without realizing it, broke out in a cold sweat. “Mr. Vance… perhaps Miss Sterling is just acting out of spite.” “Spite?” Ethan asked, a mirthless smile playing on his lips. Liam lowered his head, his breathing barely audible. The next second, Ethan kicked over the coffee table in front of him. Glasses shattered, creating a chaotic mess. The others looked over, startled. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ethan sneered twice. “She’s really gotten bold, trying to play these games with me.” “Fine, let’s see how many days she can keep up this act.” Ethan’s expression turned sour as he looked at Liam. “Where are the things?” Liam’s head dropped even lower. “Miss Hayes just happened to see it that day and took it, saying she’d throw it away.” “I thought, since Miss Hayes and you are about to get engaged, I shouldn’t interfere.” Ethan looked at him, his gaze cold and dark. “Liam, you’re doing a fine job.” Liam almost knelt. “Mr. Vance… I was wrong. I won’t dare to do it again.” Someone quickly tried to smooth things over. “Why get angry with an assistant? Besides, Seraphina handled Elara Sterling’s things, saving you the trouble of looking at them.” “Yeah, if you’d taken them, Elara Sterling would have had an excuse to cling to you.” “You’re right. Even if he didn’t take them, she’d still cling to him. After following Ethan for so many years, everyone knows she can’t live without him.” “Now, she’s just playing hard to get, trying to get Ethan’s attention.” No one present found anything wrong with these statements. In fact, they all felt this was exactly what Elara Sterling would do. After all, they had seen such antics far too often over the past five years. Ethan glanced at Liam, his expression still cool and aloof. “Get out.” He always detested it when those around him took matters into their own hands. This Liam, he was truly getting out of line. Liam didn’t dare say another word and quickly left the room. Seeing Ethan’s foul mood, everyone else also dispersed one by one. Ethan leaned back on the sofa, the alcohol rushing to his head. He closed his eyes. Yes, his friends were right. Elara Sterling loved him so much, cared for him so deeply, she couldn’t live without him. She would never just let him get engaged to Seraphina. Even if she acted tough today, she would absolutely appear at the engagement party tomorrow, doing everything she could to disrupt it. Her situation at The Sterlings was so dire, and he was the only one who could save her. As long as Elara wasn’t a fool, she wouldn’t let go of him, her only lifeline. At the very latest, tomorrow, she would come. Thinking this, Ethan felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. If she came, out of consideration for their five years together, he might give her a way out. The engagement party. Seraphina, in a complex, luxurious white gown, her makeup flawless, looked young and delicate. Ethan, too, was in a custom white suit, making him appear tall, handsome, and exceptional. Surrounded by friends, all beaming with joy, he responded vaguely to a few remarks, but his gaze kept drifting towards the main entrance. Less than fifteen minutes until the engagement was officially supposed to begin, and still no sign of Elara Sterling. An inexplicable restlessness began to rise in Ethan’s heart. He forced himself to suppress the irritation, downing the water in his glass. With two minutes left, he raised his wrist, checking his watch. “Are all the guests here?” His voice was light, as if a casual query. “Of course. The engagement is about to begin. The guests arrived long ago. We’re just waiting for you and Seraphina, the stars of the show, to make your appearance.” Ethan swallowed his annoyance, stood up. “Let’s go.” In the ballroom, a glittering crowd of finely dressed guests filled the space. Seraphina was surrounded by her friends, her face a mix of joy and shyness. Ethan scanned the room. He didn’t see Elara Sterling. The increasing agitation in his heart churned. He turned, looking far out towards the main entrance again, but there was no change. “Ethan.” Seraphina walked over shyly, taking his arm, her voice soft. “The engagement is about to start. I’m a little nervous.” “It’s just an engagement, what’s there to be nervous about…” Ethan replied dismissively, his gaze sweeping over Seraphina’s earrings before suddenly stopping. “It’s just that I care so much about our engagement party, that’s why I’m so nervous… Ah!” Seraphina suddenly cried out in pain, and all the guests looked over. Ethan’s face was ashen. “That bracelet and earrings… Where did they come from?”

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It was New Year’s Eve, and I was on a live broadcast when my sister called. I spoke first. “Wishing you peace, joy, and a long life.” My sister scoffed. “But I wish you no joy and no longevity at all. I hope you suffer for a lifetime.” I had severed ties with her the year she was at her lowest. Now, having achieved immense success, her first order of business was to exact her revenge. My voice remained steady. “Peace, joy, and a long life.” My sister’s patience wore thin. “Enough. I could never bless you. If I must, then I wish you eternal pain.” The host hesitated, then reminded her. “Ms. Quinn, that was just a recording of Mr. Quinn’s call. When he left, he was indeed, as you said, in a lot of pain.” 1 “When he left?” Scarlett Quinn froze, then sneered. “I hope you mean when he died.” The host paused, then gestured behind her. On the large screen behind Scarlett, my face appeared. In the video, I slapped the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt to my skin, making me look utterly wretched. My voice was laced with impatience. “Stop filming. I don’t agree.” Then, a sweet, clear voice, brimming with sincerity, replied, “I’m really not a fraud. I’m a vlogger documenting the human condition. I can help you.” I turned from the overflowing trash can, leaning closer to the lens. “Oh, really? Can you cure my cancer?” The girl faltered. I quirked a smile. “Don’t waste your breath. Find someone else.” “Wait… I can try!” She reached out, grasping my arm as I turned to leave. I appraised her, from head to toe, then chuckled, pointing to her T-shirt, belt, pants, and shoes in succession. “Twenty bucks, sixty, forty, fifty. Oh, and that camera, a second-hand find, right? Do you know how much this illness of mine costs?” I held up five fingers to the lens. “Half a million.” The girl’s breath hitched. I smiled, turning to walk back into the rain, bending over each trash bin. “Little Black? Little Black, where are you?” She followed. “What are you looking for?” “A dog.” “Is he yours?” “No. I passed out earlier from a flare-up, and he licked me awake.” The girl remained silent. I looked up. “If you have nothing to do, don’t linger. There are many people in this world you can help. Don’t waste your time on me.” My hand covered the lens. The screen went dark. 2 [Rebirth – 2023.10.11, 9:32 AM – A Quinn Never Needs Pity] “You’re Jack Quinn, Scarlett Quinn’s brother, right?” I was sweeping the back kitchen of the coffee shop when I heard her, and I frowned. “Why are you here again?” The girl’s voice came from behind the camera. “Everyone online is saying you’re disloyal, but they don’t know you have cancer. I want to film a series documenting your story. Can I?” I shook my head. “Let them say I’m disloyal. I’ve worked hard to cultivate this persona. Are you going to ruin it for me?” “Wait!” She quickly grabbed my arm. “But you’re penniless now. Where will the medical fees come from? Let me help you. I have some savings.” I turned, a wry smile on my face. “Guess why I cut ties with my sister?” She paused. I pulled my arm free, waving her away. “I have a job. I don’t need your help. You should go.” “I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here.” “Still don’t need it.” I turned my back, then glanced over my shoulder, smiling. “A Quinn never needs pity.” No sooner had the words left my lips than I suddenly collapsed to my knees. “Mr. Quinn!” The camera shook violently. On the ground, a growing pool of blood spread. “You!” Luna’s voice trembled. The camera was tossed aside, and a slender girl was rushing to help me. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital!” I pushed her away with a raised hand, grabbed a rag, and wiped the floor clean, then used the back of my hand to wipe a smear of blood from the corner of my mouth. “No need.” Then I walked to the sink and washed the blood from my face. Luna’s voice was shaky. “Please, let me help, okay?” I finished cleaning the last trace of blood, turned, and looked at her earnestly. “A Quinn never needs help from anyone.” With that, I walked out of frame. 3 [Rebirth – 2023.11.15, 3:21 PM – Little Black Doesn’t Know He’s Dying, Only That He Has a Home] “What do you mean?” In the pet hospital, I stared at the vet, stunned. The vet sighed, shaking his head. “The original owner probably abandoned him because they knew he wouldn’t last much longer. This little dog was starving every day, and bullied by other strays… he’s already…” I smiled. “I know. Are you going to say he doesn’t have much time left?” The vet hesitated, then nodded, just like my own doctor. Luna frowned. “Is there really nothing that can be done?” “…Just give him good food and make him comfortable.” Silence filled the room. I stroked Little Black’s head. “No wonder we found each other.” Little Black’s tail wagged furiously, and he constantly nudged against me, tongue lolling, bright black eyes wide. Luna gave a bitter smile. “He thinks you’re his owner.” I paused. “Is that so worth celebrating?” Luna nodded, stroking the dog’s head. “Little Black doesn’t know he’s dying. He only knows he has a home again.” I was silent for a moment. I patted the dog’s head. “Then I’ll call you Little Black.” Little Black barked a joyful “Woof!” Cradling Little Black, I walked out of the pet hospital. I turned to face the camera. “You found Little Black and brought him to me. In return, I’ll let you film your series about me.” 4 [Rebirth – 2023.12.31, 9:00 PM – Wishing You a Long Life, Part One] “Where did you get this?” I frowned, looking at the videotape Luna brought. She shook the tape, smiling. “A good vlogger thoroughly understands their partner.” She put the tape into the player, and on the old TV left by the previous tenant, a boy in a tailored suit appeared, bending down to look at the camera. In that moment, my eyes still held a glimmer of hope. “Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015! Wishing everyone peace, joy, and that all your wishes come true!” “You were so lively back then.” Luna sat beside me, a smile in her eyes as she watched the video. I leaned back on the shabby sofa in my rental apartment. “Did you dig up every video from my social media accounts?” “I found them interesting, so I watched them.” I didn’t speak, just watched my past self sitting amidst a pile of gifts. A familiar voice sounded. “Don’t rush, big sis will help you open them.” Scarlett walked into frame, sitting beside me. I raised my hand, making a “Stop!” gesture. “No! Sis. Quinns always stand on their own two feet!” The scene shifted. My sister fastened a watch to my wrist. “Happy New Year, Jack.” Click! The video captured my wide, beaming smile. Then, boisterous laughter erupted, and I smeared a little cream on my sister’s face. She froze, then laughed, raising her hand. “Freeze! Don’t think I won’t hit you just because it’s your birthday!” The video was filled with my joyous laughter. And here, watching it, I suddenly laughed too. I wiped the corner of my eye, my sigh laced with a tremor. “After Mom and Dad passed away, everyone thought I was pathetic. But actually, I wasn’t pathetic at all. I still had my sister, and my friends…” The wind howled through the drafty rental. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. My reddened hand was enveloped by two small, warm ones. Luna looked at me earnestly. “I’ve saved some money. Let’s go to the hospital for treatment tomorrow.” I sniffled, then chuckled. “Your account doesn’t even have a hundred followers, and you eat instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you possibly have?” Her fair hands clenched on her faded denim jeans. “It’ll… help a little.” “No need. I have good news for you. I’ve saved two thousand dollars. I can get one chemotherapy session now.” Luna paused, then smiled. “Is that enough? I can give you more.” I stubbornly shook my head. “No. A Quinn never needs help from anyone else.” I lifted my chin at her, proudly. “Don’t worry. My current income can cover my medication. Look, these are what I bought with my wages.” With that, I grabbed a handful of colorful pills, tipped my head back, and swallowed them all. Then I frowned, silent for a long time, before finally rubbing my chest and exhaling a long breath. I looked up. Luna was watching me, her eyes a little red at the corners. I chuckled. “Taking a handful of pills in one go, pretty impressive, right?” Luna lowered her gaze, a bitter smile on her lips. “Yeah.” 5 [Rebirth – 2023.12.31, 11:45 PM – Wishing You a Long Life, Part Two] In the video, two people, content after a good meal, leaned back on the sofa, waiting for the New Year’s chime. Luna looked at me. “Is that all you’re eating?” I was a little tired. “Stomach aches. Any more, and I’ll throw up.” Luna was silent for a moment, then finally spoke. “Ms. Quinn… she succeeded. Her new project’s revenue exceeded a hundred million.” My eyes were closed. “I know.” “Go back to her. She’ll cure you.” I shook my head. “Why? Do you want to die like this?” “Did you think I imagined myself living when I cut ties with her?” Luna choked. Then she spoke, her voice trembling slightly. “Why did you cut ties with her? Wouldn’t it have been better to face it together?” I chuckled. “Mom and Dad always said, a Quinn never needs help from anyone, yet the Quinns helped a whole lot of relatives. But you know what? When my sister went bankrupt, not a single one of those relatives offered to help. Do you know how I felt, watching my sister humble herself, begging those relatives to pay my tuition?” My breath hitched, and I clenched my teeth. “My sister never begged anyone. After all those relatives rejected her, she took me to a tiny rental, less than twenty square meters, about the same size as this one. She said that she alone could get us, a brother and sister, back to our old life. That’s the sister I admired – even when she had nothing, her ambition soared. But…” I smiled, looking at Luna. “What do you think she’d do if she knew I was sick?” Luna stared at me, speechless. “She’d kneel before those relatives.” As I said this, my heart trembled. “Actually, when she was trying to get my tuition, she almost knelt down. Thankfully, I stopped her, haha…” I wiped away tears from the corners of my eyes. “When I left, she and her partners were gradually building things up. Guess whether her partners would still invest if she had a family member who was a financial black hole?” Luna’s voice wavered. “Jack…” I raised my hand, stopping her. “Cancer will kill me, but half a million dollars will kill her.” Luna clenched her fists. I sighed, smiling. “The day I left, I flayed her with words. She finally grabbed my arm, crying, begging me, saying things would get better soon, that she’d definitely get us back to our old life. The glamorous and successful woman you see now – you can’t imagine how pathetic she looked then, haha…” Luna spoke softly. “How did she finally let you leave?” I recalled. “I told her she was useless, that her past achievements were only thanks to Mom and Dad. And that her current wretchedness was disgracing our parents’ memory. I told her if she still cared about family at all, she should let me go find my own happiness. And then, she slowly let me go.” The New Year’s chime rang. Fireworks exploded outside the window. I raised my hand and wiped the tears from my face.

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To surprise my best friend, Serena, I took an early morning flight, arriving at her apartment building by seven. Punching in the code, I let myself in. But Serena, who loved to sleep in, wasn’t there. The sound of running water filled the air, and then a man’s voice called from the bathroom: “Door’s unlocked. Come in.” That voice… it sounded eerily like my husband, Mike. 1 I startled at the sudden, unsettling thought, then quickly dismissed it with a self-deprecating laugh. Voices always sounded distorted in a bathroom, and besides, Mike and Serena had always been at odds. How could they possibly be together? Still, was Serena playing a game this big behind my back? I definitely needed to ask her when she got back. As I was pondering this, the water in the bathroom suddenly stopped. The person inside was turning the doorknob. I quickly turned my back, calling out, “I’m not Serena! It’s Josie, her best friend!” The person inside seemed to freeze. The turning of the doorknob stopped, and no further sound emerged. I felt incredibly awkward. Serena, you sly thing, getting a boyfriend and not telling me! I almost walked in on a live show. I practically bolted for the door. Before I could reach it, the door swung open on its own. Serena stood in the doorway, holding a bag of breakfast, her eyes wide with surprise. “Josie, you’re back early!” I winked at her. “Well, that’s because I’ve already figured out your little secret.” Serena was about to reply when she was interrupted by a man’s voice from the bathroom. “Serena, come here!” This voice sounded slightly different from before. Okay, I definitely misheard. My best friend responded and walked towards the bathroom. I, too, instinctively turned my head for a quick glance. A figure wrapped in a bath towel, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted – a perfectly sculpted physique – flashed past. It actually bore a striking resemblance to my husband. What was going on today? Why did Mike keep popping into my head? Was it because I’d been away on a business trip for two months and missed him terribly? Mike was usually quite clingy. Serena often joked that he was my “human shadow,” always by my side. This time, when I had to leave for two months, Mike’s face immediately fell into a long, grumpy pout. We had never been apart for so long since we got married, but his company was at a critical stage, so he couldn’t come with me. I had to cajole and persuade him, but I finally managed to cheer him up, though it came with conditions: daily video calls were a must. If he knew I’d returned early and gone to Serena’s apartment first, he would definitely throw a jealous fit. I remembered when Mike and I first got together and I introduced him to Serena. Those two were like oil and water, instantly disliking each other. Serena thought Mike was cold and aloof, lacking any warmth. Mike complained that Serena was noisy and gave him a headache, saying being with her was like being in a bustling fish market. I was constantly caught in the middle, feeling utterly helpless. Later, as they got to know each other better, they started competing for my attention, acting jealous of each other, which always left me amused and exasperated. But now, Serena had a boyfriend, so surely they wouldn’t be like that anymore. The four of us could even go out together. As I blissfully plotted, a sudden muffled thud echoed from Serena’s bedroom. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly went to knock on the door. “Serena, what’s going on?” 2 The sound of the argument ceased, but my hand was aching from knocking, and the door remained stubbornly shut. Fearing something had happened to Serena inside, I was about to kick the door in when it finally opened. Serena stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed. I rushed in to steady her. “What’s wrong? Did you argue with your boyfriend?” I glanced around, not seeing the man. “Where is he? Tell me what happened, I’ll help you teach him a lesson!” Serena lowered her head. “Yes, if only you’d come in sooner.” Suddenly, a soft beep – the sound of an electronic code lock disengaging. I was about to go check when Serena grabbed my arm. “My boyfriend had an urgent matter, he had to leave.” Her bedroom had two doors. It seemed the man had deliberately left through the other door to avoid me. I felt a little displeased. “Serena, are you treating me like an outsider now? You got a boyfriend and didn’t tell me, and I almost walked in on the two of you! Who is he, anyway? Do I know him?” Serena leaned against the window, the light casting shadows on her face, making her expression unreadable. “Because of his work, it’s not convenient for us to go public yet.” My curiosity deepened. “Work? Is he an actor? Don’t tell me… it’s Liam Hayes?!” I put on a fan-girl act, and Serena burst out laughing. She pounced on me, covering my mouth. “You gossip queen! Why are you asking so many questions?” After a while, Serena’s mood visibly improved. She said she needed to go to the bathroom to freshen up. I walked to the sofa and had just sat down when I heard a knock at the door. But before I could get up to answer, the door simply opened. “What’s going on? Was the door unlocked?” The delivery driver’s voice held a note of confusion. Had Serena’s boyfriend left the door open when he exited? I quickly got up and went over, signing for the package for Serena. My gaze inadvertently swept across the shipping label: a men’s sleeping bag? Mike always liked to use a sleeping bag when he slept, cocooning himself like a silkworm. I used to tease him about it, and he’d just rub my head helplessly. “I can’t sleep without a sleeping bag,” he’d say. But why would Serena buy a men’s sleeping bag? A mysterious boyfriend, a similar build, the same kind of sleeping bag. Everything that happened today felt a little unusual. Even with my generally laid-back nature, I started to feel that something wasn’t right. Serena emerged from the bathroom and took the package from my hand. I asked, feigning casualness, “Serena, are you and your boyfriend living together now?” “Sort of,” she replied, shaking the package in her hand, her tone utterly candid. “He has trouble sleeping in new places. Your Mike always says a sleeping bag helps him sleep soundly, so I thought I’d buy one for him to try.” I inwardly scoffed at myself. What was I thinking? I then teased her. “So good to your boyfriend? But you’re keeping secrets from your best friend, me. Don’t tell me…” Serena paused. “Tell you what?” “Don’t tell me you’re putting him before me now? I’m warning you, I don’t agree!” She laughed, linking her arm through mine. “How could I? You’ll always be my best friend!” “That’s more like it.” I pulled a gift box from my suitcase and handed it to her. “I ended my business trip early for this. Open it and see.” Serena opened the box and froze. 3 Inside was a designer handbag. Serena’s expression became distant, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her lips trembling slightly. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” I asked, a hint of trepidation in my voice. “Of course I like it! How did you know?” Serena threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Before my trip, I’d overheard her on the phone, mentioning how much she wanted that particular bag. But it was out of stock in Portland. I searched every boutique in neighboring cities and actually found one. To surprise Serena, I’d pulled three all-nighters, pushing myself to return early. When I paid, the sales assistant told me I was incredibly lucky; it was a limited edition, with only two in the world, and the last one had just been purchased. Yes, I am truly lucky to have Serena as a friend. Serena was my elementary school classmate. Back then, I was introverted and often bullied by other kids. She always stepped in front of me, protecting me. Later, she transferred schools, but years passed, and we reconnected in high school. In my senior year, my older brother was getting married and needed money. Our parents, eyeing the exorbitant dowry, wanted me to drop out and marry someone. Again, it was Serena who helped me escape. We both got into universities in Portland. I had good grades and always shared half of my scholarship money with her. After graduation, my career quickly took off. I immediately recommended Serena to a top company with even greater potential. We supported each other; we weren’t family by blood, but closer than family. Suddenly, a dull thud echoed from the room. “What was that sound?” I asked, about to get up and check. Serena quickly grabbed my arm. “My room’s too cluttered; something must have fallen. Don’t go in! You’ll just laugh at me again.” She said, getting up and walking towards the bedroom. I sat back down. “Fine, I won’t go. I’m afraid you’ll ask me to help you clean up! I really can’t handle that mess of yours.” Serena always looked impeccable outside, but her home was perpetually chaotic. If I didn’t arrange for someone to clean her place every week, I couldn’t imagine what a disaster it would be. I don’t know how much time passed, but then I heard the sound of a door opening, and realized I had drifted off to sleep. I had woken up at three in the morning today to catch my flight; I was utterly exhausted. Suddenly, I remembered Mike, my jealous husband. If he knew I’d returned early and gone to Serena’s apartment first, there was no telling what kind of scene he’d make. I quickly got up. “Serena, I need to go home.” Serena emerged from the bedroom, dressed in pajamas. “Want me to see you off?” I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re in your pajamas, and you want me to let you see me off? What kind of person would I be?” She pulled my hand, playfully whining, “I stayed up late last night and got up early today, you know. My sweet Josie, I knew you cared about me the most.” Her scent… why did it feel so familiar? She pulled away, and before I could think too much about it, my gaze fell on a dark green object on the sofa. I reached for it and pulled it out. It was a tie. The pattern was one I had personally designed for Mike when we got married – unique and one-of-a-kind. I stopped, looking at Serena with confusion. She chuckled. “Did you forget? The night before you left for your trip, we had dinner together, and Mike left his tie here.” Only then did I recall that yes, that had happened. I complained about Mike. “Why hasn’t he come to pick it up all this time? Does he expect someone to deliver it to him?” “You know how he is, always disliking me. Best for us to have minimal contact. Since you’re here, you can just take it with you.” Bidding Serena farewell, I rushed home, filled with excitement. As soon as I opened the door, I called out, “Surprise! Honey, I missed you!” But it wasn’t Mike who greeted me, only an empty house. 4 The house was cold, as if no one had lived in it for days. Where was Mike? My heart sank, and my mind began to race with all sorts of alarming thoughts. I pushed down the rising panic and dialed Mike’s video call. As the long rings echoed, my heart steadily plummeted. Just a second before it automatically disconnected, Mike’s sweat-streaked face appeared on the screen. I clutched my phone, my hand trembling. “Honey, where have you been?” “I’m on a business trip,” Mike said, his voice calm and gentle. “Something urgent came up at the company. I figured I’d be back before you, so I didn’t specifically tell you.” “Why are you so sweaty?” I tried to keep my voice even. “Just finished a meeting, forgot my phone. Heard your special ringtone from the hallway and ran all the way back.” Mike said, turning the phone camera to show the hotel background. I secretly exhaled, relieved. “It’s okay if you miss a call. You could have just called back when you had time. No need to rush.” “I never want to disappoint my wife.” My heart warmed slightly. “When are you coming back?” “Tomorrow.” Then I remembered Serena’s boyfriend and couldn’t resist gossiping. “Oh, by the way, do you know that Serena has a boyfriend now? I was at her place this morning and almost bumped into him, but I didn’t get a clear look at his face.” “Aren’t you two as close as two peas in a pod? If she wouldn’t tell you, why would she tell me?” Mike’s tone sounded casual. Good point, I thought, and didn’t press the issue further. Not long after hanging up, Mike’s colleague called. “Mrs. Sterling, Mike is away on business. He said he’s worried about you being alone at home, so if you need anything at all, just let me know.” “Oh, no, no, it’s fine. I just took an early flight back today. I’m planning to catch up on sleep this afternoon. Nothing important. Unless it’s the end of the world, no need to come help. But thanks!” “Don’t mention it, Mrs. Sterling! Everyone at the company knows Mike – sharp and detached, decisive in business – but in private, he’s a total doting husband! Mrs. Sterling always comes first!” I chuckled and hung up. Just as I was about to fall asleep, the company called, telling me I had a presentation tomorrow. I rummaged through my bag and realized I’d left my important file at Serena’s apartment! I had no choice but to go back to Serena’s. She wasn’t home again, and her phone was unreachable. I had to use the code to get in again. I grabbed the file and was about to leave when I noticed a half-eaten container of Southside Seafood Diner clam chowder on the dining table—Mike’s favorite dish. My gaze drifted to the entryway, where a pair of men’s slippers sat on the shoe rack. They were size 11, the same as Mike’s. Staring at those slippers, I froze. I didn’t know what I was thinking. My mind was a tangled mess. I shook my head hard, trying to banish the chaotic suspicions. It must be sleep deprivation, making me overthink things. A good night’s sleep will fix everything. I had just closed the door when Serena’s next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, approached me. “Dear, I seem to remember a package being delivered this morning, but now it’s gone? I’m old, my memory is failing, and my eyes aren’t what they used to be. Could you help me check the security footage?” It seemed Mrs. Jenkins had mistaken me for Serena, and I didn’t bother to correct her. I helped her check the surveillance; no package had been delivered. I was about to close the playback when, just as my fingertip touched the off button, a fleeting image flashed across the screen. It was like a bolt of lightning striking me, freezing me in place.

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My sister, Stella, had always believed she bore a striking resemblance to Alexander Vanderbilt, the billionaire magnate’s beloved wife – a resemblance she swore was at least five parts out of ten. To usurp Mrs. Vanderbilt’s place, Stella orchestrated a meeting, intending to stage a car crash and eliminate her. I arrived just in time, intercepting the plot before she could carry it out. On the way home, I tried reasoning with her. “Alex Vanderbilt built his empire from nothing, Stella. He’s ruthless, sharp, and has a charming facade that masks a core of steel. Your little schemes? He’ll see right through them eventually. And when he does, our whole family will pay the price.” Stella nodded, seemingly agreeing with my fears. Yet, the moment we stepped through the door, she poured a potent herbicide into my water glass. As death claimed me, her voice, chillingly sweet, whispered in my ear, “You’re just jealous of my face, aren’t you? Jealous of the face that can marry into wealth. You ruined my dream, so I’ll ruin you.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Stella had arranged to meet Alex Vanderbilt’s wife. … A deafening crash rent the air, and Stella immediately bolted. She sprinted to the figure sprawled on the pavement, letting out a frantic shriek. “Forget the car! Call 911! Someone call 911!” Stella, her face meticulously made up, dropped to her knees. She performed CPR on the person lying there, not flinching from the blood staining her beautiful clothes, even leaning in for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Anyone watching would have praised her selfless bravery. Along with the ambulance, a swarm of reporters descended. Facing the cameras, Stella’s voice rose in a righteous fury. “Do you people have no conscience?! This isn’t the time for interviews! Saving a life is what matters!” She then spun around, her voice laced with desperate urgency, as she spoke to the paramedics. “Doctor, please, you have to save her! She’s so beautiful, it would be such a tragedy for her to die like this.” The paramedic seemed genuinely moved. “Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll do everything we can. Do you know her family?” Stella shook her head. “I’m just a passerby, but I’ll ride with you. I’ll even cover her medical expenses.” The paramedic praised her selflessness, urging her to get into the ambulance. As Stella turned away, she deftly slipped the unconscious woman’s phone into her pocket, unnoticed. I watched the ambulance speed off. After waiting for another half hour, a luxury sedan pulled up at the corner. A man in a charcoal suit jumped out – a familiar face. It was Mr. Davies, Alex Vanderbilt’s assistant. He surveyed the scene, then turned to speak with the police about what had just transpired. I pulled out my phone and sent Stella a message. Ella: Stella, I saw you on the news. What did you do? Her reply was immediate and clipped. Stella: None of your business. A faint smile touched my lips at her four-word response. My sister had devoured too many CEO romance novels, convinced that every billionaire was a fool. After a chance encounter with Alex Vanderbilt, who merely remarked, “You remind me of my wife when she was younger,” she’d begun to fantasize about marrying into unimaginable wealth. In my previous life, I had tried to reason with her, only to face a brutal end. This time, my first priority was to distance myself, to ensure that when Alex Vanderbilt finally retaliated, I wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. Just as I prepared to head home, my phone rang. It was the hospital, explaining they had a patient in urgent need of an ultra-rare blood type, and asked if I was available. Both Stella and I shared this incredibly rare blood type, and our details were on file with the blood center. Hearing someone was in need, I went to the hospital without a second thought. To my astonishment, the patient in critical condition was none other than Claire Vanderbilt, Alex Vanderbilt’s wife. After donating blood, I walked into the waiting room. Stella, seeing me, froze. “What are you doing here?” I sat down. “Heard someone needed an ultra-rare blood type, so I came.” I glanced at her, then asked pointedly, “What were you doing there?” In the past, when I’d first heard about her plan, I’d tried to dissuade her repeatedly, even threatening to expose her if she went through with it. Stella, clearly worried I’d suspect her, quickly replied, “Just passing by. Coincidence.” “Oh,” I murmured, then settled into silence, closing my eyes, feigning rest. But even without my prodding, Stella couldn’t resist her urge to boast. She leaned in conspiratorially. “Ella, you know who that woman is? She’s Alex Vanderbilt’s wife, the billionaire magnate! Alex Vanderbilt himself told me I look just like she did when she was younger. Once she’s gone, I’ll be the next billionaire’s wife!” Normally, I would have lectured her about her delusions. This time, I just complimented her. “Wow! Congratulations, Stella! When you’re Mrs. Vanderbilt, can you get me a job at Vanderbilt Enterprises?” My groveling successfully inflated her ego. She snorted. “Mom and Dad were right. You’re born to serve, Ella. I’m going to be rich beyond imagining, and all you can think about is working for someone.” Just then, Alex Vanderbilt’s voice echoed from outside the room. Stella’s eyes lit up. She leaped to her feet, ready to make an entrance and ensure she was noticed. Before leaving, she jabbed a finger at me. “You hide! Don’t you dare ruin this for me!” We were twins, and she was terrified I’d steal Alex Vanderbilt’s attention. But she was overthinking it. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible. I was afraid that when the hammer dropped on her, I’d be caught in the splash zone. Yet, a moment later, Stella let out a low, knowing laugh. “Though, with your face, it probably wouldn’t matter even if you did show up.” Her laugh held a cruel meaning, one I understood perfectly. While we were identical twins, our appearances were vastly different. The same features on her face were like my face, but with a ten-level beauty filter applied. She was stunning; I was, to her, plain. Stella swayed her hips and exited the room. A moment later, I heard her syrupy voice attempting to comfort Alex Vanderbilt, her tone so overtly flirtatious it made my skin crawl. Having just donated blood, I felt a little woozy, so I curled up and drifted off. When I woke, the outside corridor was silent. I checked the time, then decided to head home. The elevator was taking too long, so I opted for the stairs. The moment I entered the stairwell, I heard Alex Vanderbilt speaking with his assistant. “Mr. Vanderbilt, the Mrs.’s phone was showing in the hospital just a moment ago. Now it’s moved.” I froze on the spot, barely daring to breathe. Luckily, neither of them noticed me. Alex Vanderbilt’s voice was frigid. “Look into it privately. Don’t inform the police. Claire never goes to places like that. There’s definitely something fishy going on. Start with that Stella girl, she’s too strange.” “If I find out who laid a hand on Claire,” his voice dropped to a terrifying whisper, “I’ll make their entire family pay.” A shiver ran down my spine. Rumor had it that before becoming a corporate titan, Alex Vanderbilt had been a notorious figure in the criminal underworld, even serving time. Terrified, I rushed home. The moment I stepped through the door, I heard Stella and my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, laughing. Mrs. Hayes, ever the doting mother, was praising Stella’s “sacrifices” – the money spent, the blood donated – and had bought her an array of blood-boosting supplements. Stella scoffed, “You have to spend money to make money. Paying the medical bills is the only way to keep Alex Vanderbilt in contact.” Mr. Hayes sighed. “But why did you have to donate blood? You have that ultra-rare blood type. It’ll take ages to recover.” “How else was that woman supposed to die?” Stella retorted with a sly grin. “I’d already done my research. Claire Vanderbilt is severely allergic to mangoes. I ate a bunch right before I donated blood. She was a dead woman walking.” Soon, the three of them were lost in fantasies of Stella marrying into wealth. I chose that moment to step out, pointing at Stella, aghast. “How could you do something like that?!” They all fell silent the moment I appeared. I grabbed Stella’s hand, pretending to pull her toward the door. “You can still confess now. It’s not too late.” Stella shoved me away. “Ella, are you insane?! My plan was foolproof! It happened in a derelict part of the city, no surveillance cameras, and the car’s already been disposed of. As long as you keep your mouth shut, no one will suspect a thing!” I frowned, staring at her. “Do you think rich people are as stupid as you are? Why would Claire Vanderbilt, a billionaire’s wife, go to a rundown district for no reason? No cameras, but plenty of eyewitnesses! And you even called the reporters?! You’re an utter fool!” Stella froze for two seconds, then quickly recomposed herself. “It still won’t lead back to me. Ella, why are you so upset? Could it be… you’re jealous?” “I’m afraid you’ll bring our whole family down! If you don’t confess, I’m calling the police.” The words were barely out of my mouth when my hair was yanked back. Mr. Hayes pulled me backward, then kicked my leg. I collapsed to my knees from the pain, but he wasn’t done. He slapped me twice. “Your sister did this for this family, and you’re thinking of calling the police?! I wish I’d strangled you at birth, you little wretch!” Mrs. Hayes cheered him on. “Beat her! Beat her! That stubborn bone won’t learn unless you break her!” Stella, arms crossed, smirked coldly. “Dad, hit her harder. Don’t let her ruin our good fortune.” I endured my father’s kicks and punches, remembering how it had been the same in my past life. When Stella had poisoned me, I’d begged my parents to take me to the hospital. But they had merely locked me away, watching me slowly lose my life with chilling indifference. I never understood why, despite being their twin daughters, they had always favored Stella. She wore new clothes and attended good schools, while I wore rags and served as her drudge. The pain in my body intensified. I screamed, counting down the seconds in my head. A few minutes later, a neighbor knocked, asking what was happening. Mr. Hayes immediately stopped, telling the neighbor, “Nothing, just our older daughter stumbled.” After he shut the door, Mr. Hayes kicked me again. “Do you admit you’re wrong?” Normally, even after such a beating, I would never back down. But this time, like a terrified rabbit, I quickly whimpered, “I’m wrong, Dad. I shouldn’t have said those things to Stella.” Mr. Hayes still wasn’t satisfied. “Are you still going to call the police?” “No, no, never again.” After my repeated apologies, Mr. Hayes’s rage subsided. I then, somewhat obsequiously, begged Stella and Mrs. Hayes for forgiveness. Mrs. Hayes’s face remained cold. “Enough talk. Go make dinner. I’m starving.” I complied, tied on an apron, and went to the kitchen. Just then, Stella’s phone chimed. She looked at it and shrieked. “She’s dead! Claire Vanderbilt is dead! I have to go to the hospital! I have to go comfort Alex Vanderbilt!” She excitedly rushed to her room, changed into a new outfit, applied more makeup, and put on her high heels, ready to leave. My parents, worried about her safety at such a late hour, grabbed the car keys, intending to drive her. The moment they left, I gathered my few belongings, preparing to leave that house for good. As I stepped out, I ran into the neighbor. He frowned at my bruised face. “Your parents again?” Then, seeing my suitcase, he tutted. “Get out of here, kid. If you stay in that house, something terrible will happen sooner or later.”

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It was my birthday, and my boyfriend, Dexter Prescott, chose that day to publicly announce his engagement to someone else, right there in front of the entire company. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply sought him out, hoping for an explanation. But what I found instead was a conversation between him and his friend. “Aren’t you worried Alice will be furious about this?” his friend asked. “I have no choice,” Dexter replied, his voice laced with a strange mix of resignation and righteousness. “If I don’t marry Chloe, her family will marry her off to some stranger. I can’t just stand by and watch her suffer.” Then, he added, his tone dripping with an unsettling confidence, “Besides, Alice has been with me for eight years. Everyone knows she’s mine. She has no other option but to wait for me.” Later, my family arranged a more suitable match for an advantageous alliance. I never imagined that my wedding day would coincide with his. As the groom, he was visibly anxious, plagued by a disturbing premonition. He even instructed his groomsmen to keep a close watch on the ceremony, to prevent me from causing a scene. It was then that one of the groomsmen awkwardly chimed in, “Didn’t you know? Alice Quinn is getting married today too…” —— 1 “Mom, is the Caldwell family’s proposal still on the table?” My mother’s hand, poised with a teacup, trembled slightly. Her eyes, wide with undisguised shock and worry, fixated on me. “Alice, why are you asking about that?” Just moments before, the video of Dexter Prescott’s proposal from last night had gone viral across all social media platforms. Everyone knew the Prescott family was about to celebrate a momentous occasion, but the bride wasn’t me—the woman he’d dated for eight long years. Seeing my silence, Mom grew frantic. “Alice, marriage is a huge decision. Don’t act impulsively now.” I swallowed the bitter ache in my throat and shook my head. “Mom, I’ve just… come to my senses. You didn’t reject the Caldwells’ proposal outright, did you? That’s because you thought Liam Caldwell was more reliable than Dexter, isn’t it? I trust your judgment.” My mother sighed deeply. “Liam Caldwell, the youngest son of the Caldwells, is indeed a good man. But perhaps you should meet him first, and then decide?” “No, it’s fine. You can make the arrangements. I’m okay with whatever.” After we settled the matter, I ate dinner at my parents’ house, then returned to the small apartment I owned. What I hadn’t expected was to find Dexter there. Hearing the sound of the key turning in the lock, he slowly put down his work and looked up. “Busy day at work? You’re back quite late.” I kicked off my shoes, my voice flat. “What are you doing here?” “I was passing by after an evening engagement and thought I’d drop in to see you.” Dexter approached me, just as he always did, intending to pull me into his embrace. But as he drew closer, a familiar scent wafted towards me—a women’s perfume. It was the same one Chloe Davis always wore. A wave of repulsion rose within me, and I instinctively recoiled, stepping back to avoid his touch. My nose inexplicably burned with a sharp, stinging sensation. “You’ve seen me. You can leave now.” Dexter’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. A faint smile flickered across his face as he heard my words. “Don’t be silly, Alice. Weren’t you just complaining a few days ago that I don’t spend enough time with you? I specifically cleared my schedule to be with you today.” Yesterday was my birthday. I waited from morning till night, but not a single call from him. It wasn’t until late in the evening, when I finally gave in to the urge to go find him, that I received a video from an unfamiliar number. It was a clip of Dexter, right there in his company, proposing to Chloe in front of all their employees. In the video, a crowd cheered, their voices echoing with boisterous excitement. I couldn’t believe it. I rushed to his office, desperate to hear his explanation directly from him. Instead, I overheard his conversation with his best friend. It was then that I realized, in this cruel game of love, I had become the ultimate joke. Recalling the words he’d spoken last night, my heart felt like it had been viciously stabbed, the pain so excruciating it stole my breath. I lifted my gaze to the man before me, his features still deceptively gentle. My eyes welled up, tears blurring my vision. I didn’t know why, but I felt an overwhelming agony, a crushing weight that made it hard to breathe. Dexter watched as my tears fell, a flicker of panic in his eyes. He awkwardly reached out, fumbling to wipe away the moisture from my cheek. “Why are you crying? Who upset you? Tell me, I’ll go sort them out!” 2 Growing up, Dexter was the neighborhood’s resident wild child. He was unruly, mischievous, and often provoked his mother into chasing him with a slipper. I, on the other hand, was born prematurely, my health always delicate. My parents kept a strict watch over me, rarely letting me play outside with other children. I’d often sit by the window, watching them run freely, a pang of envy in my chest. Whenever Dexter saw me lost in thought by the window, he’d sneak over, bringing me little treats, then gently pinch my soft, chubby cheeks. “Little sister, when can you come out and play with me?” he’d whisper. By middle school, my health gradually improved, and my parents finally felt comfortable letting me venture out. Back then, he was always meticulously careful with me, saying, “Alice, little sister, if anyone ever bullies you when we’re out, just tell them my name. They won’t dare touch you.” From then on, I was never alone. He’d always accompany me wherever I wanted to go. If anyone tried to pick on me, he’d be there in an instant, a strong, unyielding shelter. When we started college, it felt natural for us to become a couple. He grew even more tender towards me, showering me with all his favoritism. That is, until my junior year, when Chloe Davis appeared, shattering all the beauty we’d built. She was clever, beautiful, efficient, and effortlessly charismatic. She was also Dexter’s classmate in the same department. They had a way of communicating that I simply couldn’t grasp. At first, Dexter would patiently translate for me. But eventually, he grew tired of it. “You don’t understand what we’re talking about anyway,” he’d say. “Why don’t you go off and do your own thing?” They talked about everything, from real life to online chatter, from dawn till dusk. Meanwhile, my conversations with Dexter dwindled to fragmented sentences. My friends warned me, urging me to pay more attention to their growing closeness. I dismissed their concerns, believing that even in a relationship, everyone deserved their privacy. And I trusted him. I truly believed he wouldn’t fall for someone else. But reality delivered a brutal slap to my face. That night, Dexter didn’t leave. He said he was worried about me. I gazed at him in silence for a long moment. “Suit yourself,” I finally said. Turning, I went into my room, and just as he tried to follow, I swiftly locked the door. Dexter stood outside, his expression complicated. He paused, then said, “Alice, I’ll be right outside. When you’ve calmed down, come find me, okay?” I ignored him, hot tears tracing paths down my cold hands, leaving burning trails. Dexter, I don’t want to love you anymore. The next morning, I woke up, rubbing my throbbing temples, and stepped out of the room. I saw Dexter frantically pulling on his jacket, clearly rushing to leave. “Alice, I have something urgent to deal with right now, so I’m heading out. I’ll pick you up tonight, and we’ll go out for dinner.” Before I could even respond, he rushed out, disappearing from my sight so quickly I barely registered it. I pursed my lips, then glanced at the sofa where he’d slept. I noticed he’d left his phone behind in his haste. I walked over and picked it up. I was just about to set it aside to send to him later. Then, a message popped up glaringly on the screen. Dexter hadn’t set a password, so any new message was immediately visible. The message was from a contact saved as “Sweet Pea.” The photo showed Chloe looking disheveled but smiling, giving a peace sign from an emergency room bed. The message read: “Don’t rush on your way here, drive safely. I’ll be waiting for you right here.” 3 It was then that I finally understood the real reason for his hasty departure. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, then called a local courier service to deliver his phone to his company. Afterward, I headed to my own office. I’d joined my family’s company right after graduation. My father, wanting to put me through the paces, made me start as a junior executive. Now, through my own efforts, I’d become a department manager. As soon as I arrived, my assistant brought over a project proposal. “Ms. Quinn, this document needs your attention. All the procedures are complete; it just needs your signature.” I took it and scrutinized it. It was a project collaboration with Prescott Industries, but I had absolutely no recollection of it. “Did my father approve this?” “No.” The assistant paused, then quickly replied, “Didn’t you say before that Prescott Industries should always be our first choice for any non-critical collaborations?” It clicked then. I had indeed said something like that, thinking that our two families would eventually merge anyway. Who earned more, who earned less, it wouldn’t matter, so I hadn’t bothered to thoroughly evaluate the project’s profitability. “Let’s pass on this one. From now on, for similar projects, we’ll choose based on merit. Company interests come first.” After a full day of work, I packed up my things after closing and decided to try the new chic bistro that had just opened recently. But when I arrived, I found the restaurant already packed to the brim. Just as I was about to leave, I heard a familiar voice. “Ms. Quinn, you’re here for dinner too?” I turned to see Chloe Davis and Dexter Prescott, sitting at a table, Chloe’s face beaming with a bright smile. Dexter’s expression froze when he saw me, then he quickly recovered. “I was just about to call you to join us for dinner! What a coincidence, you’re already here. Come, come eat with us.” He beckoned a server to add another place setting. I hadn’t eaten much for lunch and was ravenous by then. So, I decided to stay and sat down. “Ms. Quinn, I remember you like spicy food. Shall we add a few more dishes for you?” Chloe offered, her voice saccharine. I glanced across the table. It was laden with only bland, mild dishes. Both Dexter and I were notorious spice lovers. He used to say that food without chili was soulless, and eating it felt like a fate worse than death. Yet now, he sat before a table full of bland fare, his expression completely unbothered. Dexter shot Chloe an annoyed glare, feigning reproach. “I think you’re just trying to eat something spicy yourself, aren’t you? Don’t forget what the doctor told you today; you can only eat bland things recently.” Chloe, seemingly scolded, let out a playful huff. “Alright, alright, Mr. Bossy. I’ll listen to you, okay?” Watching their easy interaction, my heart, which had been torn to shreds, remained surprisingly calm. Dexter shook his head with a helpless smile. “You two go ahead and eat. I’m going to make a call.” As Dexter left, the smile on Chloe’s face gradually faded, replaced by a provocative gleam in her eyes. “Alice Quinn, you really surprise me. You know Dexter proposed to me, yet you’re still clinging to him? Your skin is thick enough to stop a bullet.” Catching the disdain in her voice, I met her gaze. “Is stealing someone’s boyfriend something to be proud of? Something worth flaunting in public?” “You…” Before she could finish, thick smoke suddenly billowed from the restaurant kitchen. Someone spotted it first and screamed in terror, “Fire!” At that cry, the bustling restaurant instantly descended into chaos. Everyone panicked, scrambling to escape. I snapped back to reality and quickly stood up. Just as I was about to leave, a figure suddenly crashed into me. Before I could regain my footing, I heard a familiar, anxious voice. “Chloe, don’t be scared! I’ll get you out of here!” Dexter didn’t hesitate, swiftly leading Chloe out of the burning restaurant. His heart thumped in his chest, a wave of relief washing over him, a joy of having survived. He pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank goodness, thank goodness you’re alright…” As he spoke, something seemed to click in his mind. He suddenly turned, his eyes landing on me, standing a short distance away, watching them with a cold, detached gaze. His voice caught in his throat, and he stammered, “Alice, I… I was just so rushed, I didn’t mean to not save you…” “I know.” I cut him off, my voice cold. In that moment, when he had pulled her into his arms and left, I had a crystal-clear realization: the Dexter who had once promised to protect me for life was long gone. Seeing that I wasn’t angry, he visibly relaxed, then offered to take me home. “No need. Ms. Davis seems quite shaken. You should take her home first.” 4 In the days that followed, I didn’t contact Dexter again. Instead, I busied myself with wedding preparations. One afternoon, I received a message from my designer, so I decided to use my lunch break to pick up my custom-made wedding dress from her boutique. It was a gown I had originally prepared for my own proposal to Dexter, but I would never have that day. As luck would have it, just as I stepped into the store, Chloe followed right behind me. She saw the dress box in my hands and, with an air of superiority, looked at the designer. “I want to try on that wedding dress.” “I’m sorry, but that was custom-made for Ms. Quinn. It belongs to her.” Chloe scoffed disdainfully. “Custom-made? As if you’re getting married soon…” As she spoke, she seemed to realize something, and her composure shattered. “Are you trying to wear this dress to ruin my wedding?!” Seeing her manic state, I couldn’t be bothered to argue. “If you’re sick, go get treatment. Don’t come here to cause a scene.” With that, I turned to leave, holding the dress box. Unexpectedly, she suddenly lunged at me. Before I could react, she violently ripped open the box and frantically tore at the magnificent gown. That wasn’t enough. She then rushed to the counter, snatched up a pair of scissors, and mercilessly shredded the fabric. “Alice Quinn, you won’t ruin my wedding! I’ll destroy your dress right now, let’s see how you cause trouble then!” “Chloe, are you insane?!” Furious, I tried to snatch it back, but she accidentally grazed my arm with the scissors, and blood quickly welled up. Chloe froze. For half a minute, she stared blankly, then she too began rapidly slashing her own arm with the scissors. Afterward, she collapsed onto the floor, letting out a low moan of pain. I was stunned by her almost deranged actions, before I could even speak. Dexter burst into the store from outside. Seeing the chaotic scene before him, his eyes blazed with fury. He glared at me. “Alice Quinn! When did you become so malicious?!” His eyes were filled with rage, but then he turned to Chloe, his expression softening into one of profound heartache. Dexter walked over and carefully helped her up. Chloe leaned against his chest, sobbing. “Dexter, it’s all my fault. Don’t blame Ms. Quinn; she didn’t mean to hurt me…” “Didn’t mean to?” He gritted his teeth, shooting me another venomous look. “It better be an accident. Alice Quinn, if anything happens to Chloe, I swear I won’t let you get away with it!” With that, he carried Chloe out, striding quickly. Truth be told, if he had just bothered to look up, he would have seen that the store’s security cameras had recorded everything. “This… Ms. Quinn, perhaps I should explain for you.” I shook my head, declining the kind offer from the designer. “No need.” This was actually better. It completely severed any lingering hopes we might have had. Time flew by, and soon it was my wedding day. I finally met the man who was about to become my husband. Liam Caldwell was far more handsome than Dexter, his refined features exuding a detached coolness. Yet, when he looked at me, a subtle tenderness softened his gaze. In that moment, I felt a strange sense of bewilderment about my future. He seemed to sense my nervousness. “Don’t be nervous,” he said softly, “I’m here for everything.” Liam navigated the introductions and tea ceremonies with my family effortlessly, his composure and grace making me feel not the slightest bit uncomfortable. He was just as meticulous when we got into the wedding car, ensuring everything was taken care of. As the car’s engine roared to life, the unease in my heart slowly began to subside. Meanwhile, in another wedding car, Dexter Prescott was distinctly restless. Logically, today was a significant day, and I wouldn’t be completely silent. But he’d practically worn out his phone, flipping through it repeatedly, yet there wasn’t a single message or update about me. Upon arriving at the hotel, the unsettling feeling in his heart hadn’t dissipated; instead, it had intensified. He scanned his surroundings, then turned to his groomsmen, his voice firm and resolute. “Guard the wedding hall carefully. Don’t let Alice Quinn come and cause a scene.” The next second, one of the groomsmen chuckled. “Don’t worry, she won’t have time to cause trouble. Alice Quinn is getting married today, too. She’s probably in the middle of her own wedding ceremony at her hotel right now.”

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1 The day before my wedding, my best friend, Celeste Rivers, ran over and killed my mother. My fiancé didn’t just stand by; he flaunted his marriage certificate with her. I dragged Celeste to court, disrupting their wedding to demand she pay for her crime, only to be ridiculed by everyone. In my darkest hour, my childhood best friend, Arthur Bennett, publicly proposed to me, swearing he’d be my lifelong anchor. I said yes. I entrusted the entire car accident case to him. He told me Celeste was imprisoned, and I believed him. But three years into our marriage, I accidentally overheard him talking to his lawyer. “Mr. Bennett, was marrying Evelyn Hayes just for a letter of forgiveness? For a mere car accident, why did you have to sacrifice yourself?” “Only by marrying her could I, as a family member, write that letter of forgiveness on Evelyn’s behalf. It was the only way to secure Celeste’s freedom.” “As long as she’s happy overseas, that’s all that matters. As for me… anything is fine.” It turned out the marriage I’d seen as my salvation was nothing but a meticulously crafted deception. That letter of forgiveness, signed with my name, and Celeste’s freedom—those were his true desires. I was the one who needed to leave. In his office, Arthur stared at a photo of Celeste overseas on his computer, a heartbroken, regretful smile playing on his lips. “Three years. Seeing her happy is enough, even if her happiness isn’t something I gave her.” “As for Evelyn… I’ve spent the rest of my life making amends to her. This matter, it’s behind us.” The company’s legal counsel was fuming but utterly powerless against him. “Mr. Bennett, the company has finally started to thrive. How can you joke about a murder case like this? If this gets out to our competitors, not just you, but all of Bennett family’s assets could be forfeit!” “It’s a fact that Miss Rivers committed premeditated murder. Why are you getting mixed up in this mess? She doesn’t even love you!” Arthur’s face hardened, his voice chilling. “Enough. I said not to bring this up again. I don’t believe Celeste intentionally killed her. It must have been an accident. I handled Mrs. Hayes’s funeral arrangements, which was a proper closure for the Hayes family.” “If it means saving her, forget a company, I’d even give my life!” The lawyer grew agitated. “What about Miss Hayes? She’ll find out about this eventually. The moment she goes to visit Celeste in prison, everything you’ve planned will collapse!” “You used her name to free the person who murdered her mother. What will she do then?” Arthur fell silent for a moment, then reached for a cigarette and lit it. “Then she’ll never know. Three years have passed. Celeste should be out of prison soon.” “Go make the arrangements. And remember, don’t let Evelyn find out.” “Mr. Bennett,” the lawyer warned, his voice grave. “As your legal counsel, let me remind you: the long arm of the law misses nothing. What you’ve done will leave its mark. To protect a murderer, at the cost of harming an innocent person… if Miss Hayes ever finds out, you’ll be completely ruined!” Tears streamed down my chin. My body trembled so violently I could barely hold the takeout box. Footsteps drew closer. I quickly scurried into the stairwell, my heart pounding. So, my mother’s fatal car accident had never even been formally investigated. And Celeste, far from being imprisoned to face justice, was living a carefree life overseas. All of it, orchestrated by the husband I loved with all my heart. His humble bowing, his quiet endurance, his every concession—all were for the salvation of the woman he truly loved. For three years, I had lived inside the meticulously woven tapestry of his lies. I thought I was living a fairytale, but it was a living hell. The irony was crushing. I stumbled down the stairs and out of the building, collapsing onto the curb outside the company. 2 I waited for five agonizing hours. The last flicker of light in the building winked out. Finally, his silhouette appeared. The moment he saw me, his expression softened, and he gently took my hand, his voice laced with concern. “Why didn’t you come in? How long have you been waiting?” “Not long, just arrived. I know you’ve been busy lately, so I brought you some homemade porridge. Your assistant said you were in a meeting, so I left.” “Don’t do this again, darling. You’re not well; I’d be heartbroken if you overtired yourself.” With that, he pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. His touch was as tender and affectionate as always. But I felt nothing. His warmth no longer reached me. It was shocking, how far one person would go for another. He guided me into the passenger seat, then casually brought up a topic. “Oh, by the way, Celeste is getting out soon. You two used to be close, and she’s already served her time. Besides, Bennett Holdings has a lot of ongoing projects with the Thorne family now, so maybe—” “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. I won’t go after her. Don’t worry.” He let out a visible sigh of relief, a soft smile touching his lips. “Thank you, my love, for understanding. Having you is truly a blessing.” I turned my head, gazing out at the passing scenery, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. Back home, while he showered, I opened his laptop. The password was Celeste’s birthday. The desktop wallpaper was a sweeping view of the Maldives. That’s where Celeste had lived for the past three years. I logged into his social media. His profile’s background image was a photo of him and Celeste. His follower list contained only one person. I clicked on it. My vision was flooded with photos of Celeste and snippets of her life overseas. She wore new jewelry from brands under Bennett Holdings. Her shawl was from Bennett Holdings’ latest campaign. Even the villa she’d tagged was one of Bennett Holdings’ overseas hotel properties. This hotel, I noted, had been established exactly three years ago. It was Bennett’s only international project. My hand trembled as I clicked on his transfer history. The recipient was always Celeste. A million a month, for three years, without fail. I scrolled through each entry, my heart chilling with every passing line. I remembered his social media status, a single, cryptic word. Wait. I’d asked him once what it meant. He’d simply shrugged it off, saying it was something he’d written long ago. But now, I understood. Three years of marriage, and apart from the wedding photo on the wall, we had no other pictures together. No matter how much I cried or pleaded, he’d always say we saw each other every day, so there was no need to capture it. Only now did I realize it wasn’t that there was no need; it was that I was not a necessity to him. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, closing the laptop. I simply bought a plane ticket for three days later, overseas. And applied to cancel all my official documents. Three days to say goodbye to three years. It felt like enough. I set the countdown as my phone wallpaper, a constant reminder. When he emerged from the bathroom, I was already in bed. Assuming I was asleep, he remained silent. I spent the entire night wide awake. At dawn, I got up to freshen up. My phone rang. Arthur’s voice, laced with confusion, followed immediately. “Evelyn, what documents did you cancel?” I quickly snatched my phone, explaining casually, “Nothing much. My ID expired, so I booked an appointment to renew it.” “Don’t you have a project meeting today? Go on, get busy.” He didn’t think much of it, simply pulling me into a tender embrace, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “Thank you, my love. Marrying a wife as wonderful as you is truly my blessing.” I simply smiled, saying nothing. 3 “As a reward, how about your husband gives you a big gift today?” he purred. “Alright. I’ll be home waiting.” He really pulled out all the stops to keep me from bothering Celeste. This three-year charade, it was time for it to end. The moment he stepped out the door, I went to cancel my documents. After filling out the application, I went to see a lawyer. When I asked about the letter of forgiveness, the lawyer simply stated that a letter of forgiveness from a family member carried legal weight. It was already established and irrevocable. I didn’t ask further, instead asking him to print two copies of a divorce agreement for me. With the agreement in hand, I headed to Arthur’s company. As soon as I entered, I heard employees whispering. “Is that Mrs. Bennett? I heard she just returned from overseas. That aura… no wonder she enchanted Mr. Bennett; even I, a woman, can’t resist it!” “Must be. That bag she’s carrying is a new Hermès, one of only ten worldwide. I’ve seen Mr. Bennett picking out bags a few times; I can’t believe he bought even this for her. So sweet…” “That overseas hotel, it wasn’t built for her, was it? I heard they were childhood sweethearts. Even a rom-com wouldn’t dare write a plot like that!” On the top floor, I stood at the office door. Familiar voices drifted out. “These past three years, you… how have you been?” “Oh, just wonderful. Every day, I wake up to the ocean, and the air is filled with freedom. I haven’t even thanked you properly. If it weren’t for you, I’d have already—” “Don’t say such things. It’s all in the past. I believe you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. My help was also for my own sake.” Celeste’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. “You, you’re still the same after all these years. If Evelyn ever found out you secretly helped me, she’d surely make a huge scene.” “This bag is too extravagant; I can’t accept it. You should give it to Evelyn instead. I’m afraid if I take it, she’ll sue me again.” Celeste had always been like this: taking every advantage while feigning generosity, blaming me for everything. Three years ago, at the wedding. I had publicly exposed her as a killer, alienating myself from her and Julian Thorne completely. Yet, all the guests present had sided with her, accusing me of being unreasonable. I had become a laughingstock. Arthur’s appearance had been my only salvation. But now, he was the one who had pushed me into this abyss. His assistant, rushing to deliver a contract, burst through the door, nearly colliding with me. Arthur’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Evelyn? When did you get here? Don’t get the wrong idea; Celeste just dropped by to catch up, nothing else…” “Evelyn, long time no see.” Celeste rose, dressed in a bespoke piece from Bennett Holdings’ latest collection. Her face was flushed with health, her skin flawless. She looked anything but the picture of someone who had just been released from prison. I smiled, nodding, swallowing my rising resentment. “It’s fine. I was just in the area, thought I’d drop by. Since you’re busy, I’ll head back now.” Arthur, thinking I was angry, chased after me, explaining for quite a while. “Don’t be like this, my love. I was just asking her how she was doing in prison. After all, she’s a woman; it must have been tough in there…” “It’s been three years. All grudges should be laid to rest by now, shouldn’t they? Didn’t you say it was all in the past?” Watching his desperate display, I simply smiled. To free Celeste, he had sacrificed his own marriage, putting on a show for me. Now that Celeste was safe and sound, who was he trying to impress? “Yes, it’s in the past. Don’t worry. I’m not unreasonable; I keep my word.” 4 “You stay busy. I’ll be home waiting for you, like a good wife.” He visibly relaxed, instructing his assistant to personally escort me downstairs. Before I left, he specifically reminded me about the Thorne family’s banquet the following evening. It was a celebration of Celeste’s return. As a CEO, he had his reputation to uphold. Publicly, they’d claimed Celeste was studying abroad, never mentioning her imprisonment. I nodded, saying I understood. I wouldn’t cause a scene at the banquet. Only then did he seem relieved enough to let me go. Back home, I took down the wedding photos from the wall and meticulously shredded them with scissors. Then, I tossed them into the trash. That night, Arthur didn’t come home. But Celeste logged back into her social media account. And posted an update for the first time in ages. A candlelit dinner for two. The man’s face wasn’t visible, only a glimpse of his wrist. The spot where a wedding ring should have been was conspicuously bare, but the skin tone difference revealed where it once rested. It was Arthur. Just as she’d hoped, I liked the post. I turned off my phone and packed my bags. The next morning, Arthur’s assistant delivered a dress. I unwrapped it and saw it was an outdated design from a previous season. That evening, when I arrived at the banquet hall, Julian Thorne had just finished his speech. He announced that Celeste would be in charge of all the company’s projects with Bennett Holdings. A wave of envy rippled through the guests. They praised Celeste’s good fortune, how both her childhood sweethearts held her in the highest regard. The moment I appeared, conversations abruptly ceased. Eyes turned to me, expressions of expectant amusement. Arthur was busy with socializing, paying me no mind. Celeste, acting as hostess, led me to the terrace upstairs. Once we were alone, she dropped her charade, her true nature laid bare. Her expression was a cocktail of sarcasm and venom. “Evelyn Hayes, after all these years, you’re still so useless.” “I’ve been overseas for the past three years, and thanks to your husband, I’ve had a wonderful time, you wouldn’t believe it. You don’t actually think Arthur married you out of love, do you? Truth be told, if you hadn’t sued me, he wouldn’t have given you a second glance!” “Evelyn Hayes, you’re nothing but a joke!” Fury ignited within me. I couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped her across the face. She sneered, a cold smile touching her lips, and quickly stumbled back a few steps. Then, she tumbled down the stairs. A collective gasp, then screams, erupted from the main hall. Arthur was there in an instant, rushing to her, scooping her into his arms. He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Evelyn Hayes, what are you doing? Are you insane?!” “Celeste was kindly hosting you, how dare you push her? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t pursue the matter from back then? What’s with this scene today?!” My expression was cold, my voice devoid of emotion. “Me causing a scene?” “Arthur Bennett, don’t you think you owe me an explanation for what happened that day?” His brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “An explanation for what? Hasn’t Celeste already apologized to you for the past three years? What more do you want?” “One thing has nothing to do with the other. No matter what happened before, it doesn’t justify you laying hands on her today!” “Evelyn Hayes, apologize to her right now!” Before I could speak, Celeste was already weeping in his arms, her voice choked with feigned sorrow. “Please… please don’t be hard on Evelyn. All the fault, all the mistakes, were mine from back then. I wronged her. Let what happened today be my apology to her…” “Since she hates me so much, let’s… let’s not contact each other anymore. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” My nails bit fiercely into my palms, tiny drops of blood welling up. Watching their silhouettes, entwined, as they walked away, I knew it was truly over for us.

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I was ten months pregnant when labor began in the dead of night. My husband, Ryan, woken by the commotion, his face a mask of ice, reluctantly took me to the hospital in a taxi. The driver was clearly a novice; the car barely crawled. My contractions surged, growing more excruciating with each passing minute. I could only plead with Ryan: “Ryan, you’re a race car driver! Please, you drive. Faster, I can’t bear this pain.” His refusal was absolute, cutting through the air like a knife: “Every woman experiences pain in childbirth. I’m a professional race car driver, not some chauffeur. I won’t drive for anyone!” Before he could finish, my water broke. I crumpled into the back seat, tears streaming down my face as I pleaded again: “Ryan, my water just broke! Please, can’t you drive? Do it for the baby, if not for me.” He shot me a look of pure disgust and barked, “Pull over.” For a desperate moment, I thought he was finally going to take the wheel. Instead, he simply opened the passenger-side door. “It’s too cramped in the back. I’ll ride shotgun.” I closed my eyes, a wave of despair washing over me. If anything happened to my baby, Ryan Brooke, then we were over. Done. 1 When we finally reached the hospital, I was a writhing mess of pain, every stitch of clothing soaked through with sweat. Only when I was lifted onto the gurney did a sliver of safety settle within me. My baby, Mommy will protect you! “No good! Fetal heart rate is too weak! Get her to the delivery room immediately, prepare for C-section!” the examining doctor yelled in a frantic rush. I was whisked away, a flurry of hands pushing me into the operating theater. Strapped to a myriad of monitoring machines, I was already fading in and out of consciousness from the agony. “Patient has high blood pressure, critical condition! Get a family member to sign!” The attending physician called my name, “Eleanor Vance, is your family here?” I struggled to pry my eyes open, dimly registering the long corridor outside. My voice was a raw whisper, laced with tears, “My husband… he’s here.” A nurse rushed back in, “We can’t find the patient’s family!” “Call them! Get a signature, now!” the doctor ordered. What was going on? Hadn’t Ryan just come in with me? How could he just vanish? Gritting my teeth against the searing pain, I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. “Use mine, quickly!” The doctor snatched it, only to be met by the robotic voice: “Hello, the number you have dialed is currently busy…” The automated message looped, over and over. The doctor beside me decisively hung up. “Eleanor Vance, can you sign yourself?” I nodded weakly, pain incapacitating me. Clutching the pen, I fumbled through the signature, then gripped the doctor’s hand. “Please, you must save my baby!” “We’ll do our best,” the attending physician murmured, patting my hand before the surgery began. There was no time for proper anesthesia, the IV drip offering only the faintest relief. I felt my abdomen being sliced open, raw and visceral. To avoid distracting the doctors, I bit down hard on my lip, stifling every scream. As long as my baby lived, I could endure anything. Finally, the baby was out, but no cry met my ears. My consciousness began to fray. “No! She’s hemorrhaging!” I felt my lifeblood drain away, the bone-shattering pain fading into a strange, comfortable numbness. I was so, so tired, and a chill began to set in. “My baby… where is my baby…?” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. The doctor’s voice broke through: “The baby is being resuscitated. No matter what happens to the child, you cannot give up on yourself. We are doing everything to save you.” I knew, deep down, I was losing my child. A strange peace settled over me, and I felt my grip on consciousness loosen. Dying like this… it seemed fine. “Patient’s heart rate dropping, losing will to live!” a medical staff member shouted. Through the haze, the attending physician made another call. This time, it connected. The doctor let out a sigh of relief. My hearing, strangely, was incredibly sharp in that moment. “Is this Eleanor Vance’s family? Her condition is extremely critical right now.” Before the doctor could finish, Ryan Brooke’s voice cut in, sharp and impatient: “I already brought her to the hospital. Saving her is your job as doctors. What can I possibly do? Besides, I’m saving someone too!” Then, a tearful female voice wafted from the phone: “Ryan, darling, I’m in so much pain…” Ryan abruptly hung up, leaving only the droning dial tone. I knew he didn’t care for me, but facing his utter heartlessness still sent a dull, throbbing ache through me, so profound it threatened to pull me back into unconsciousness. Then, a familiar voice pierced through the haze: “My sweet girl, hold on! Your mother is waiting for you to come home, to be a family again. Your father and I don’t blame you anymore. Marry him if you want, just please, be well. If anything happens to you, your mother won’t want to live either…” My mother’s choked sobs broke through, and tears streamed down my face. Yes, I had my parents. It had been years since I’d seen them, and they were waiting for me to come home. “Patient’s heart rate is improving! Alert the blood bank, get blood supplies here!” “Full resuscitation! Notify all departments, Level One mobilization!” I felt a swarm of medical personnel surround me. “Don’t you dare give up on yourself for anyone! Your father and I will always love you. We’re waiting for you to come home…” My mother’s voice flooded me with strength, and I felt energy surge back into my body. My mother’s voice was cut short by the ringing of a phone. The attending physician glanced at it, then offered a small comfort, “Your husband is calling you.” 2 “Eleanor Vance, quickly, what’s Martha’s number? Chloe’s sick, I need Martha to come take care of her for a while. I’m sure you’ll be fine managing the baby on your own, the doctor said you didn’t even get anesthesia for your C-section. I have faith in you.” A metallic, coppery taste flooded my mouth. I lurched forward, spitting a spray of blood onto the doctor’s white coat. The attending physician immediately snatched my phone away. “Are you even human? Your wife is still fighting for her life! Do you care about her at all?!” “I know my wife’s constitution perfectly well. She can drink a whole table of men under for my sponsorships. She’s tougher than any man. A little pain, a bit of blood—that’s nothing to her!” “No life is a small matter, and sacrifice deserves respect! A husband like you doesn’t deserve your wife fighting for her life to bear your child!” The doctor’s last words were practically hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m saving someone too! My assistant is ill. Is my wife’s life more valuable than someone else’s?!” “Besides, my wife willingly had this child for me. She hasn’t said a word, so who are you, a complete stranger, to criticize me? Be careful, I’ll file a complaint against you in a moment!” The doctor wasted no more words. She hung up the phone, came to my side, and gently took my hand. “Child, don’t give up on yourself. All of us, the entire medical staff, will fight for you with everything we have.” “He’s not worth it! Not for a man like him!” No, he wasn’t worth it. I still had my mother, waiting for me to come home. I squeezed the doctor’s hand back, a faint whisper escaping my lips: “Doctor… save me…” After battling Death for ten grueling hours, countless units of blood pumped into my veins, the doctors pulling me back from the brink of the abyss multiple times, they finally dragged me back from death’s door and transferred me to the ICU. I don’t know how much more time passed, but I gradually drifted back to a hazy awareness, though my eyes still refused to open. Two nurses were checking my monitors nearby. “Did you see the news? Ryan Brooke, the number one race car driver, last night he drove his girlfriend to the hospital, hazard lights flashing, blowing through ten red lights!” “I saw it! The whole city is talking about it, it’s all over social media. I heard the surgical head nurse say the girl only had a few scrapes. But it panicked Ryan like crazy, apparently.” They glanced at me. One sighed, “Some men are just different. Her husband, well…” They shook their heads in unison and left the room. They had no idea that Ryan Brooke was my husband. My eyes burned, and tears silently tracked down my temples as I slipped back into unconsciousness. I wondered about my baby. Oh, how I longed to hold him… 3 The first thing I did when I fully regained consciousness was to grab the doctor’s hand beside me. “Doctor, my baby? Where is my baby?” The doctor’s face lit up with relief at my awakening, then immediately fell. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could. The baby was in the birth canal for too long, oxygen deprivation…” My brow furrowed in agony, as if my very heart had been ripped from my chest. She paused, then added, “Child, life is still long. There will be other chances.” I suddenly recognized that voice. Peering at her familiar, masked face, I realized she was the attending physician who had saved my life. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for saving me.” “It was my duty. Just try to keep your spirits up. You’ll be transferred to a regular room today.” I closed my eyes, memories flashing. I had defied my parents for Ryan, staying in the country to marry him. He loved racing, so I became his agent, supporting him every step of the way until he became the nation’s top race car driver. In the beginning, I endured countless snubs just to secure him a spot in a race. I drank endless rounds of alcohol for sponsorships, often ending up hospitalized with stomach bleeding. Everyone in the racing world knew I was a top agent, and they also knew I only represented one driver: Ryan Brooke, his exclusive agent. After he found success, we kept our marriage private for the sake of his public image. To boost his fame and appeal, he became the ultimate racing knight in the eyes of countless young women. Now, I was leaving. And everything I had given him, I would reclaim. The first thing I did in the regular hospital room was to contact a lawyer and draft divorce papers. The lawyer sat by my bedside, asking, “Are you sure you want to go through with this divorce?” Silently, I tapped open my phone. Sure enough, the news story the nurses had mentioned dominated my feed. “#RyanBrooke: Top Race Car Driver Risks All For Love!” “#BlewThroughTenRedLightsToRushGirlfriendToHospital!” “#RyanBrooke’s All-Night Vigil: Caring For Girlfriend For 24 Hours!” My baby died while he was rushing his girlfriend to the hospital. My life hung by a thread while he was tending to his girlfriend. He wouldn’t drive me, suffering in childbirth, yet he blew through ten red lights for his girlfriend. Chloe Green had just posted an update: “My knight is always there, ready to face anything for me. So touched, I’ll love you forever!” The accompanying picture showed my husband gently feeding her porridge. Then you two can be chained together for eternity. I’ll make sure of it! I looked up, meeting the lawyer’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “Absolutely. Please have the papers ready today.” After booking a flight out of the country for the next day, I dialed a number. “Hello, Martha? I’m being discharged tomorrow. Could you come pick me up from the hospital?” Martha’s voice on the other end was hesitant, fumbling. “Ma’am, Mr. Brooke… he asked me to come take care of… Miss Green.” The phone was snatched away, Ryan’s voice laced with mocking amusement. “You’re getting discharged so quickly? Didn’t the doctors say your condition was critical? I knew they were exaggerating. You’re not that easy to kill, are you?” “Why do you need someone to pick you up? Just take a taxi home. What woman doesn’t give birth? So dramatic.” I was about to speak when Chloe’s saccharine voice cooed from his end: “Ryan, darling, my foot hurts…” “Can’t talk, I need to take care of my patient now.” The call was abruptly cut off. He hadn’t even asked about the baby. He truly didn’t deserve to be a father. And yet, my heart was strangely devoid of any ripple of emotion. Chloe Green was the assistant I’d hired for him, worried that my pregnancy would prevent me from fully managing his races. I had no idea when they’d started their affair. But I knew, if it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else. It takes two to tango. When a heart changes, an affair is only a matter of time. I almost sacrificed my precious life for a man like him. He absolutely didn’t deserve it! He’d taken so much from me. I would reclaim every single thing.

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My father, heartbroken by my decade-long unspoken crush, took matters into his own hands. He drugged his cross-age friend and deposited him in my bed. Waking up, the man, Dominic Hale, coldly agreed to marry me. But soon after our wedding, Dominic began frequent business trips abroad, each lasting three years. I gave birth to our daughter, Lily, alone, waiting for him to return. Three years later, I heard he was finally coming home. I abandoned an important business engagement, taking our daughter to the airport to meet him. Lily, brimming with excitement, begged him for a hug. He merely glanced at me, his voice flat. “I’m sorry, I have a phobia of germs.” From that day on, Lily and I washed our hands at least three times, and our home was kept impeccably spotless. Yet, he never came back. And he never once held our daughter. Until I saw a video clip. Someone asked him: “Dominic, what’s the happiest thing for you?” He replied casually, “Last week, I guess, abroad. After putting Daisy to bed, I pulled Chloe into the bathroom.” Amidst the sounds of laughter and teasing, my hands and feet turned to ice. Chloe was his ex-girlfriend, with whom he’d had a long, complicated history. Daisy was Chloe’s daughter. I’d heard he’d been living with them for the past three years abroad, and now I knew it was true. My heart shattered. I left the divorce papers, canceled our identities, and took Lily out of the country. 1 The nanny brought Lily home from kindergarten, her eyes swollen from crying. “Mommy, does Lily not have a Daddy…?” She hiccupped between sobs, utterly heartbroken. “Daddy promised he’d come to my parent-teacher conference, but when he got there, he said he was Daisy Miller’s daddy.” Her voice broke. “Mommy, everyone says Lily is a child without a Daddy, boohoohoo…” A sharp pain shot through my chest. My eyes burned as I pulled my daughter into my arms. I wanted to say something comforting, but Dominic’s cold indifference choked the words in my throat. I regretted everything. I had waited three years, believing he had finally come to his senses, willing to return home and reunite with Lily and me. But no, it was merely because Chloe had expressed a desire to come back to the States. He had then, without a second thought, booked tickets, arranged everything, even transferring his ex-girlfriend’s daughter to the best kindergarten. The day we went to the airport to greet him, Lily wore her prettiest dress, asking me nervously, “Mommy, will Daddy like Lily?” I nodded. “Lily is Daddy’s only daughter, of course, he will.” But when we arrived at the airport, full of joyous anticipation, we saw Dominic, holding Chloe’s hand, a three-year-old girl in his arms. Lily and I froze. Dominic barely glanced at me. “Excuse me, I need to get Chloe and Daisy settled first. You two go home.” He didn’t even spare Lily a look, yet his gaze upon Daisy was filled with tender affection. The memory made me close my eyes in despair. “I’m so sorry, Lily. It’s all Mommy’s fault. Next time, Mommy will go to your parent-teacher conference.” After washing Lily’s face and finally coaxing her to sleep, her tiny brows remained tightly furrowed. “Daddy, hug me…” My heart felt as if it were being pricked by needles. If it weren’t for what happened three years ago, Lily might not have to suffer like this. Three years ago, my father, feeling sorry for my decade-long secret crush, simply drugged Dominic Hale and placed him in my bed. I was utterly shocked. “Dad, are you trying to ruin my life?” My father sighed. “I saw it, darling. You like Dominic, and that boy has a soft spot for you too, he just won’t admit it. That night, when he was drunk, I even heard him calling your name. I thought you two were dragging your feet, so I decided to push things along.” I resisted with all my might, but the next second, a feverish heat consumed me. My father chuckled. “I put something in your drink too. Cherish this night.” Then, he locked the door from the outside. After that night, Dominic sobered up and said coldly, “Yvonne, I will take responsibility and marry you.” I thought a happy life was about to begin. But at a gathering soon after, I accidentally overheard his conversation with a friend. “Dominic, you’re not seeing the good in this. Yvonne is beautiful, rich, and she loves you. You should just settle down and be happy.” Dominic took a drag from his cigarette and scoffed. “Initially, I did have some feelings for her, but I never expected her to be so… opportunistic. The thought of her drugging me that night, aggressively throwing herself at me, just makes me… sick.” Before I could even figure out how to properly explain, he obtained a visa and left the country two weeks later. But that one night had given me a child. I gave birth to our daughter, Lily, alone, eagerly waiting day and night for him to return. What I waited for, however, was his increasingly entangled relationship with Chloe and her daughter. In the empty, silent mansion, I pulled out my phone, about to call Dominic and ask when he was coming back. Suddenly, the door opened, and Dominic walked in, his expression detached. He glanced at the sleeping Lily and said casually, “Daisy is coming over tomorrow to play. You and Lily should go out.” Meeting my bewildered gaze, his lips curled into a faint smile. “Daisy is quite possessive; she doesn’t like other little girls calling me Daddy.” The anger that had been simmering within me finally boiled over. I laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. “Dominic Hale, do you even remember who your biological daughter is anymore?” My voice cracked. “Do you know what happened to Lily at kindergarten today—” Dominic frowned slightly, cutting me off. “Yvonne, I don’t need you to remind me of this. I’m sorry about kindergarten today; Daisy also had a parent-teacher conference. Chloe and her father are divorced; she’s overwhelmed raising a child alone. Besides, before I even met you, I swore to Chloe that I would never let her suffer any injustice.” He continued, his voice firm, “I’ve already married you as you wished. You can’t stop me from caring for them. I owe them that much.” Dominic finished speaking, tossed his jacket aside, and went into the bathroom. The rushing water drowned out my desperate, helpless sobs. If only I had known that marriage to him would become like this, I would have chosen death over succumbing to that night. I looked at the freshly written divorce papers on my laptop, a bitter smile on my face. If not for Lily, given my personality, I would have filed for divorce long ago. But thinking of Lily’s wounded little face, I wanted to fight for her, unwilling to let her grow up without a father. Lily woke up early, overjoyed to learn her Daddy was back. She bounced excitedly on her small bed. “I’m going to take the picture I just drew to show Daddy!” Children forget easily. Lily had already forgiven Dominic for yesterday’s kindergarten incident. Lily happily ran downstairs. But she saw Chloe and Daisy already there, Dominic gently peeling an orange for Daisy. “Daddy, who are they?” Seeing Lily still at home, Dominic frowned. “Why are you still here? Where’s your mother?” Lily was startled, but she still carefully offered the family portrait she had spent a week drawing. “This is Lily’s family portrait. I drew it thinking I’d give it to Daddy when he came home…” The drawing was just about to be handed over when a small hand unceremoniously snatched it away. “What a trashy drawing!” Daisy stomped her foot and tore it in half. She put her hands on her hips defiantly, then violently shoved my daughter. “He’s my Daddy! Lily Hale, all the kids say you’re a bastard! Who said you could call him Daddy?” Seeing Lily fall to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, I panicked. I helped Lily up and glared coldly at Daisy. “Apologize.” Dominic frowned tightly, displeased. “Yvonne, why are you being so harsh with a child?” Without a word, he scooped Daisy into his arms. “I told you last night that Daisy doesn’t like others calling me Daddy. She’s just upset and hurt, she didn’t mean to push Lily.” I remained unyielding, still insisting. “Didn’t you see if she meant it or not? Dominic, she just called Lily a bastard to her face. Tell her, is Lily really a bastard?” Dominic hesitated for a moment, but then he continued to gently console Daisy, with no intention of making her apologize. Chloe’s eyes flickered, and she smiled gracefully and apologized. “Miss Hale, I’m so sorry. Daisy grew up abroad and has a very straightforward personality; she just speaks her mind. Please don’t take it to heart.” As soon as she said that, the little girl in Dominic’s arms looked even more smug. “I wasn’t wrong! All the kids said Lily Hale is a bastard! She’s the one who stole my Daddy!” I clenched my fists, staring coldly at Dominic. Before, when he said he had a phobia of germs, Lily and I endured it, constantly accommodating him. He chose to get involved with other women under the guise of working overtime, and I turned a blind eye. But now, I could not tolerate anyone calling my daughter a bastard. “Dominic Hale, I’m asking you one more time—” “Is Lily one?” A flicker of displeasure crossed Dominic’s face, but he laughed coldly. “Don’t you know how she became my daughter?” Then, his voice changed, laced with a warning. “Alright, today is Daisy’s playdate. Let’s not make everyone unhappy.” Chloe and Daisy smirked from the side, clearly gloating. Dominic, his heart aching, picked up Daisy. “Daddy will buy you toys, okay?” “And a pretty Elsa dress!” “Alright,” Dominic agreed, his face full of doting affection. Watching his retreating back, my heart turned cold. Finally, I spoke the words I had weighed countless times but never dared to utter. “Dominic Hale, let’s get a divorce!” Dominic’s steps faltered. He turned back, his gaze chilling. “Yvonne, do you think this is amusing?” His voice dripped with disdain. “If you believe this can threaten me, then so be it. Have it your way.” With that, he left without another glance. A flicker of triumph danced in Chloe’s eyes, quickly suppressed. She returned to me, offering profuse apologies. “I’m truly sorry, Miss Hale. Dominic and I are completely innocent. He’s a man of integrity and deep loyalty. He felt sorry for me divorcing so early and my child not having a father, so he just took a little more care. Please don’t take it to heart, and don’t let this cause any unpleasantness…” Before leaving, Chloe added me on contact. She said she wanted to compensate Lily for the drawing. “Chloe, come here.” Dominic, holding Daisy, stood a short distance outside, calling her softly. “Coming!” Chloe hurried out, her face beaming. Their conversation, before they were out of earshot, drifted clearly into my ears. “Dominic, you really shouldn’t have. Miss Hale saying she wants a divorce was just out of anger. How could you agree so readily?” Dominic sneered, “She used every trick in the book to force this marriage. How could she possibly bear to divorce?” He scoffed. “Her being so harsh with our Daisy just now was a small punishment for her. It won’t be long before she’s begging me to come back.” I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. Dominic Hale, people change. The Yvonne who once loved you recklessly, putting everything on the line, is dead. Now, for my daughter’s sake, I will choose to leave you for good. Lily hid in her room, sobbing uncontrollably. “Mommy, the kids at school say Daddy is Daisy Miller’s daddy, but Lily isn’t trying to steal her Daddy…” Later, she fell asleep clutching a photo of Dominic, but I lay awake all night. I opened my phone and saw Chloe had updated her social media. “Daisy finally has the fatherly love she was missing. What belongs to us, no one can take away!” Beneath the text was a photo of the three of them intimately embracing, smiling for the camera, looking like a perfect family. I casually ‘liked’ the post when suddenly, a message popped up on my phone. It was a video from Chloe. I opened it and saw Dominic Hale’s handsome face. The timestamp was from when he had just returned to the country. A friend asked him: “Dominic, what’s the happiest thing for you?” He replied casually, “Last week, I guess, abroad. After putting Daisy to bed, I pulled Chloe into the bathroom.” Combined with the tenderness in his eyes and the teasing laughter from his friends, my hands and feet turned to ice. Chloe had once shared a post on social media: “Ever since having a child, we haven’t been able to have a private world for just the two of us. We can only wait for Daisy to fall asleep, then sneak off to do this and that…” I was lost in thought when another message from Chloe came through. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I accidentally clicked the wrong button just now and sent it to you. By the time I realized, I couldn’t unsend it.” She continued, “But honestly, you must know Dominic’s true feelings by now, right? You forced him into marriage with those underhanded tactics and became Mrs. Hale. For the past three years abroad, he’s been with Daisy and me.” She added, “Even though the child isn’t his, Dominic has been more thoughtful and considerate than a biological father. Even after we broke up, he still couldn’t bear to let me go. It won’t be long before we’re back together.” She pressed on, “Miss Hale, I know your family is wealthy, and you’re not short of men. I advise you not to make things difficult for yourself. Just step aside voluntarily.” Then she sent another picture. Daisy smiled brightly in the middle, while Chloe and Dominic simultaneously kissed the girl’s cheeks, truly looking like a perfect, happy family. I smiled and replied, “Alright.” Then, I called my father. “Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I’m taking Lily to live abroad. We’re leaving in a few days.” My father’s surprised voice came through the phone. “Really? But I heard Dominic’s back. You two just reunited as a family; does he agree to this?” I laughed, a desolate, bitter sound. “He couldn’t be happier.”

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