Category: English

The day they dismembered me, Evelyn Lewis’s voice was filled with mockery: “I’ve assigned him the country’s top bodyguard team; how could anything happen to him?” Her female assistant reported anxiously: “Ms. Lewis, Mr. Harris used your written authorization, claiming you had new instructions, and dismissed all the bodyguards. And you forgot, Mr. Miller was a retired narcotics officer; I’m worried his old enemies might have come for him?” Evelyn let out a cold laugh, her eyes full of disdain. “Enemies? How many of his so-called enemies would dare to make a move on my territory?” “I merely entered a business marriage with the Harris family, and he’s using such a pathetic tactic to get attention? Does he even look like the master of the Lewis household?” “Tell him, if he’s going to throw a tantrum, it can wait until after Adrian and my engagement party is over!” Ten days later, she finally appeared at our wedding villa. Seeing me asleep on the bed, she sneered, a disdainful curl of her lips: “I knew it; you’d only use this method to force me back.” But the next second, her female assistant, face filled with horror, reached out to support me: To her shock, my head tumbled from beneath the covers. 1 “Ms. Lewis, we found a severed arm at an abandoned cartel hideout. That lone wolf tattoo… we’ve confirmed it’s Mr. Miller’s.” The female assistant’s voice trembled uncontrollably. Evelyn Lewis merely let out a cold laugh, throwing the crystal pen holder onto her expensive office desk: “Isn’t he supposed to be in the heavily secured villa? How could he have gone out? How much hush money did he give you to put on this pathetic act with him?” The assistant broke into a cold sweat, terrified: “Absolutely true! Ms. Lewis, even if I had boundless courage, I wouldn’t dare to deceive you about something like this!” “Enough!” Evelyn flung a pen, her voice thick with irritation and disdain: “A lunatic who only uses extreme tactics to grab attention, playing disappearing acts just because I’m getting engaged to Adrian, and now escalating to being dismembered? Do you really think I’d believe such a lie?” “He’s just relying on having been an undercover agent for a few years and earning some merit, thinking he’s some great hero who needs me to indulge his every whim? I’d be thanking my lucky stars if he wasn’t secretly tripping Adrian up or using his dirty tricks to harm people!” The assistant’s face turned ashen, not daring to utter another word. “What’s more…” Evelyn rose, her gaze imperious: “Although I kept him confined to the villa, the guards I left were all elite special forces. Even if he wanted to court death, it would be difficult.” With that, she strode toward Adrian Harris, who was waiting by the floor-to-ceiling window, never looking back. My soul floated in mid-air, involuntarily twisting into a desolate smile. She seemed to have forgotten, she had given Adrian full authority to mobilize all resources under her name. She had once declared in front of everyone: “Everyone listen closely, Adrian’s commands are my commands! They must be followed and executed one hundred percent.” The excuse, ostensibly, was her fear that I, this “madman,” might harm her pure and flawless Prince Charming. It was precisely because of such overwhelming favoritism that day at the villa, Adrian dared, in front of me, to mock my father, who died in the line of duty, calling him an idiot. And she truly adored Adrian. Just because I, in my anger, punched Adrian, she had me completely confined. She was always so self-righteous. While cursing me to “drop dead outside,” she simultaneously set up an inescapable net, claiming it was to prevent me from causing trouble. But Adrian’s authority superseded everything. He used Evelyn’s authorization to easily dismiss all security. And he deliberately leaked my location to the cartel’s remnants. Those desperate individuals, hell-bent on avenging their cartel boss. That day, they burst in. With my last breath, I broke three ribs and incapacitated one man’s arm. But in the end, I was overwhelmed and held down. When I was found, all that remained were dismembered pieces, packed into several boxes. It was my mother, a retired female detective, who, using all her personal connections, painstakingly gathered “me” piece by piece. She looked at the fragments that even the medical examiners shook their heads at, her wrinkled hands trembling violently. She could only force out three hoarse words: “Put my son… back together.” Her former comrades asked her when the funeral would be. My mother caressed my badge: “My little hero hasn’t even had his thirtieth birthday yet.” Late at night, my mother brought in her old medical examiner, a friend of many years. By dawn, my wounds were all stitched, I was dressed in my favorite suit, clean and composed, lying on my bed with my eyes closed, as if asleep. “My dear sister, we’ve done our best. At least… he can leave with dignity.” My mother carefully straightened my collar, smiling softly, but her tears fell onto my face: “My little Owen, could you… wait until after your thirtieth birthday to leave, please?” She whispered. “You said when the mission was over, you’d wear a suit one more time for Mom. Mom bought it for you, do you like it?” I lay there, eyes closed, motionless. My mother gently picked me up, just like when I was a child, letting my head rest on her shoulder. She hummed a tuneless lullaby, over and over again. 2 Evelyn Lewis hadn’t heard from me in three days. In the past, whenever Adrian and I had any friction, I would never swallow my anger; I would always stir things up, leaving her no peace. More importantly, our anniversary was tomorrow. Every year, I would prepare a unique surprise for her. But now, she hadn’t even received a single demanding call from me, which inexplicably irritated her. The villa’s guards were all former special forces, battle-hardened veterans. The assistant saying Adrian faked her orders to disband security was simply preposterous! Adrian was innocent and kind; he couldn’t even watch bloody scenes in movies, let alone joke about human lives. Why, then, did Owen have to be so mad? To frame Adrian, he would actually stake his own life! She looked at the anniversary cake that had just arrived on the table, and with a bang, swept it to the floor: “Owen Miller, when will you stop being so crazy!” My soul floated in mid-air, hearing those words. That heart, which had long stopped beating, felt as if another hole had been carved into it. I was no madman. I simply couldn’t forgive betrayal. We met during a life-or-death kidnapping; I was undercover, she was the target I protected. I took a knife for her, and she promised me a future free of darkness. She said she’d give me a home once I took off my uniform. Our relationship, forged in the crucible of blood and fire, was already inseparable. It wasn’t until that mission ended, and I retired due to injury, that she brought news. She was entering a business marriage with Adrian Harris, the scion of the influential Harris Group. Evelyn said it was her fastest move to clear obstacles in the business world. And Adrian was the most sensible, most harmless man she had ever met. She said it was merely a transaction; the person she loved was still me. That’s when our paths began to diverge. She never understood my vigilance: “It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just Adrian is genuinely innocent; he hasn’t seen as much darkness as you have. As the stronger one, why can’t you protect him a little more?” She continued, “Besides, you’re not a police officer anymore. Why do you always treat everyone like a criminal? Your hostility is too heavy. Are you truly more suited to be the master of the Lewis household than Adrian?” I would always coldly retort: “It has nothing to do with strength. It’s just that in my world, Owen Miller’s world, there’s no room for betrayal and lies!” With that, I would kick out the psychologist she’d hired to “guide” me. In our last argument, she even accidentally shattered the portrait of my father, who died in the line of duty. She saw my reddened eyes, froze for a moment, then grabbed my hand: “Owen, look at yourself now. Is it worth it, for someone who has already passed away?” She sighed. “Adrian is just a naive young man, who innocently said a few offensive things about your father.” She looked at me, her gaze filled with disappointment. “Your gun isn’t aimed at the real enemy. Instead, because of a few idle words, you want to harm a vulnerable person who needs protection. You’re too prejudiced.” I laughed through my tears then: “Me, prejudiced?” I demanded. “Then is Adrian Harris, who said my father deserved his death, not prejudiced?” She fell silent. She pulled the trembling Adrian close, protecting him: “Knowing there’s danger and still rushing forward, in a sense, yes… it’s not very rational.” But she forgot. My father had bravely charged forward precisely to protect the peace of the land she stood on! That day, I refused Evelyn’s demand that I apologize to Adrian. Even when she threatened to freeze all my accounts, I didn’t back down. She sneered: “The biggest regret of my life is meeting a man like you, a persistent shadow who only brings trouble.” 3 The anniversary quickly arrived. She never received my call, not even a single demanding text message. Unexpectedly, she actually came to the villa herself. The entire villa was eerily silent, deathly quiet. Evelyn, familiar with the layout, arrived at the door of my bedroom. Moonlight filtered through the blinds. She could see a figure lying quietly on the bed, seemingly sound asleep. “Owen, may I come in?” No response. She gently knocked on the door: “Owen?” Still no answer. A sigh. She softened her voice: “I’ll handle things with Adrian; he’s just a business tool.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “After all these years, our relationship doesn’t need to be this fractured over an outsider. It’s our anniversary today; can we talk properly?” In private, she rarely spoke to me with such a negotiating tone. I still offered no response. Her hand rested on the doorknob. She hesitated for a moment, then let it fall disheartened. Turning, she leaned against the doorframe and sat down on the corridor floor, without a word. I was stunned. During that mission, I was gravely wounded, running a high fever. She had stood guard at my door just like this, never leaving, saying she was afraid I would die inside. Evelyn Lewis, what are you doing now? “Owen.” She spoke softly, a trace of weariness in her voice: “If you’re truly so against it… then I’ll listen to you.” I froze. “My feelings for him are purely utilitarian; love… there’s simply none. I didn’t expect you to protest in such an extreme way.” She paused, her voice tinged with a strange mix of resignation and hope. “If this marriage alliance causes a complete break between us, that’s not what I want.” She continued, “How about this? The engagement party is just a formality, a show for the Harris family. Next month, on your birthday, we’ll go register our marriage. I’ll make you the only recognized master of the Lewis household, alright?” Still no response. “If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes.” A long silence. Evelyn smiled, a hint of confident control in her demeanor. I had always been like this. When we had a disagreement, I would use silence to confront everything. She would then try every possible way to “solve the problem,” proposing various solutions. If I didn’t accept, I would directly interrupt her. But if I tacitly agreed, yet was too proud to reconcile immediately, I would remain silent. She would then know I had compromised. But this time, it wasn’t. “Then, it’s settled. Next month, we’ll get married.” 4 The very next day, Evelyn Lewis regretted it. She stormed into the villa with her bodyguards, holding a trembling Adrian Harris, whose lips were bruised and white shirt stained with dirt. “Owen Miller! I already agreed to your terms! Why did you still send someone to attack him?” Adrian leaned weakly against her shoulder, his voice trembling: “Evelyn… don’t blame Owen. I just lost my footing… maybe Owen’s people just wanted to scare me, it wasn’t intentional…” Evelyn held him tighter, her bloodshot eyes fixed on my bedroom door: “Owen, come out and apologize.” No response. Through the crack in the door, she could see me lying on the bed in my pajamas, turned to my side. “Owen! Don’t force me to kick down this door!” Still, dead silence. “Owen!” Evelyn completely lost control, raising her foot to kick. “Ms. Lewis, what are you doing?” My mother’s voice suddenly rang out, hoarse yet steady. She had appeared at the end of the hallway, her figure slender, but her eyes sharp as an eagle’s. “Ms. Lewis, just because your family is powerful, you think you can storm a private residence with your people and threaten my son?” Evelyn gritted her teeth, lowering her foot. “Let him come out himself; there’s still room for discussion.” Her voice was bone-chillingly cold: “After all, last night, I already agreed to marry him.” My mother looked at her as if at a monumental joke, then said, word by word: “He is dead.” “What?” 5 Evelyn Lewis frowned, looking at the bedroom. Through the crack in the door, my figure lay motionless. “Mrs. Miller, are you calling a sulking person ‘dead’?” “Believe it or not, I have no obligation to explain to you.” My mother looked at her coldly: “Worst case, you, Ms. Lewis, with your vast influence, can have this old woman of mine locked up. It would be… a good way for me to join my son.” Evelyn’s brow furrowed even deeper: “Mrs. Miller, you’re overreacting.” She looked at me in the room again: “Owen, this is your last chance.” A dead silence. “Owen, it’s just an apology. I won’t do anything to you. When did things between us need to escalate to this point?” She truly had never laid a hand on me. During my undercover career, I had suffered countless knife and gunshot wounds, but none of them hurt more than her casual word, “trouble.” “Never mind, Evelyn, it’s Adrian’s fault…” Adrian struggled to stand upright in her arms, his eyes red-rimmed but stubbornly holding back tears: “Adrian knows he shouldn’t have appeared, causing trouble for you and Owen. I’ll leave now, and I won’t bother you anymore…” With that, he offered Evelyn a desolate smile and turned to leave. Evelyn grabbed his swaying form, pulling him back into her embrace, holding him tightly. Turning, she faced my room, her voice as cold as ice: “Owen Miller.” His only response was silence. “Guards!” she roared, giving orders to the bodyguards behind her: “Go in, and smash his father’s urn… smash it!” 6 “No!!” When my father’s ashes scattered across the floor, my mother instantly went mad. “Evelyn Lewis! You beast! How dare you!” “Dying for a bunch of irrelevant people, does he even deserve to be revered?” Evelyn Lewis’s voice was icy as she kicked open the door and entered. My mother was held firmly by two bodyguards, her eyes bloodshot, her voice hoarse: “My husband was a hero! He did it to protect people like you! You can disrespect him, but you cannot insult him like this!” “If your son thinks so too, he should come out and contradict me now.” Evelyn walked to the bedside, looking down at the gray and white ash on the floor. She raised her expensive high heel and savagely stepped on it, grinding it in. “No!” My mother’s and my voice rang out simultaneously. Evelyn glanced at me on the bed, still motionless. Her eyes hardened, and she used her sharp heel to grind my father’s ashes even finer, mixing them into the carpet fibers! “Father!!” I rushed forward. But I could only pass through her cold body, watching her ruthlessly trample my father. I was just a soul. I couldn’t protect anything. Seeing me on the bed, still motionless, Evelyn, her eyes red, straightened up and scraped her heel across the carpet: “Even like this, you still won’t come out and see me?” She stared fiercely at me on the bed, then turned. Her gaze seemed to say: Owen Miller, how unyielding is your pride? 7 After leaving with Adrian Harris, Evelyn Lewis’s mind was fixated on my motionless figure. “Does he hate me that much? Preferring his own father’s ashes to be trampled under my heel rather than coming out to look at me!” She swept the crystal decanter crashing to the floor. The staff in the villa were terrified, holding their breath. Her fist slammed onto the bar, knuckles white: “Owen Miller, just because of a business marriage, you insist on tormenting me this way, is that it?” “Send word.” She spoke, her voice hoarse: “Adrian’s and my engagement party will proceed as scheduled.” She paused. “At the banquet, Owen will be my escort, and will personally adjust Adrian’s tie.” “Yes, Ms. Lewis!” Her chest heaved violently. From childhood, she had never pushed him this far. This time, she would use the harshest method to make him surrender! The news quickly reached the villa. My mother, dressed in black, listened to the assistant’s message with an expressionless face. Upon learning this, the inexplicable anger in Evelyn’s heart slightly subsided: “Still willing to listen to messages, that means he hasn’t completely lost his mind.” She asked the assistant: “What was Owen’s reaction to me smashing his father’s urn?” “Ms. Lewis… I didn’t see Mr. Miller himself.” Evelyn rubbed her brow: “Still the same stubborn silence.” 8 My thirtieth birthday. It was also Evelyn Lewis and Adrian Harris’s engagement party. Evelyn Lewis’s motorcade pulled up to the villa, and she came personally to demand that I fulfill my duty as her “escort.” My mother smoothed the last stray strand of my hair, embracing my cold body one last time: “My little hero, happy birthday.” When Evelyn walked in, I was sitting quietly in a wheelchair, wearing the custom suit she had sent. It was as if I was truly waiting for her to push me out the door. “I knew it; you were just playing games with me.” She let out a sigh of relief, her tone laced with an unconscious blend of ease and exasperation. “From childhood, you’ve only ever used this method to test my limits.” She reached out, intending to cup my chin as she used to. But her fingertips met only coldness and stiffness. This touch… it was wrong. “Owen?” She grabbed my hand, which rested on the armrest. It was cold… hard… “The hour has come! Send the hero’s soul home!” My mother’s voice suddenly rang out. The curtains in the living room, previously drawn, were yanked open with a swish. It was an entire wall draped with white chrysanthemums, a memorial. In the center of the living room, my mother shed her jacket, revealing a traditional funeral garment underneath. The old butler and my comrades, who had been waiting outside, also solemnly donned black armbands. “Lead the way! Farewell to the martyr, Owen Miller!”

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The day I went to buy a crib for our unborn child, a strange woman burst into the private viewing room and plunged a knife into my pregnant belly. “How dare you flaunt another man’s bastard in your belly?” she snarled, twisting the handle with a crazed smile. The cold steel pierced my womb, and the agony sent me crumpling to the floor. She crouched down, patting my cheek. “Did you really think a little tramp like you could use a baby to claw your way up? The title of Mrs. Donovan… is it something you can even dream of?” Blood poured from the wound and pooled beneath me. Only then did it all click into place. My husband—the man I had loved for seven years, been married to for three—was really keeping a mistress. “What? Not happy about it?” she gloated. “Even if I kill you right here, with my status as Mrs. Donovan, nothing will happen to me!” Watching her preen, I shakily pulled out my phone and dialed my brother’s number. “Alistair, come get me at the baby boutique.” My voice was terrifyingly calm. “The Donovan family… they have no reason to exist anymore.” … My unborn child was dying inside me. The tiny heartbeat I could once feel through my own skin was fading to nothing. My consciousness blurred as the blood drained from my body, but the searing pain in my abdomen was a cruel anchor, keeping me tethered to the horror of the moment. A cold rage sent shudders through my entire body. I’d heard the rumors, of course—that Donovan was keeping a mistress. But I had given him a chance to come clean. And this was the result. His mistress hadn’t given me a chance. She hadn’t given my baby a chance. For a man like Donovan, who struggled with fertility issues, I thought he, of all people, would understand what this child meant. “Audrey, is it? Does Donovan know you’re doing this?” My eyes were bloodshot as I stared her down. “Did he forget to tell you that if you ever laid a hand on me, my family—the Sinclairs—would make you pay in blood?” The air in the room went still for a beat, then erupted in derisive laughter from her entourage. “Wow, mistresses these days sure are feisty.” “Don’t you get it? She’s pregnant. And Mr. Donovan wants a kid so badly, she thinks she’s hit the jackpot.” The cutting remarks were like a physical assault. Audrey just sneered, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. “The Sinclairs? In Southcrest, the only name that matters is Donovan.” “It’s hard enough for my Donovan to have children. Who knows whose bastard you’re even carrying?” “As Mrs. Donovan, it’s my duty to clean up his messes!” She kept saying it, over and over. Mrs. Donovan. But if she was Mrs. Donovan, then who was I? I pressed my hands to the gushing wound in my stomach, but the hot blood just streamed through my fingers, staining my skin red. There was no time to regret coming out without my bodyguards. I cast a desperate look at the people around me, silently pleading for help. All I got back were cold stares and mocking smirks. And the whispers. The constant, accusing whispers. They were calling me “the other woman.” Fighting back waves of agony, I met Audrey’s gaze, my own eyes cold and murderous. “I’ll say it again. My name is Sinclair. As in, the Sinclairs.” “You can run, while I’m still deciding whether or not I want you dead.” “What damn Sinclairs!” Audrey’s face contorted with rage. She lifted her foot and viciously kicked my wound with the pointed toe of her designer heel. “In Southcrest, the sky belongs to the Donovans! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to Mrs. Donovan like that!” A blunt, crushing pain exploded through me. A mixture of blood and amniotic fluid gushed from the wound. If this went on any longer, I’d die from an embolism. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Donovan had waited on me hand and foot for eight months, all for this child. And now, because of his child, and his mistress, I was on the verge of death. “I’m going to the hospital. Now. And you will get Donovan on the phone and tell him to get his ass over there. Immediately.” I was done playing games with her. My voice was ice. “Because if something happens to me today, he’ll kill you first.” “And then, he’ll follow me to the grave.” Audrey’s eyes were filled with contempt as she burst into hysterical laughter. After a moment, she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Who in God’s name do you think you are? Demanding my husband come running to the hospital?” As the words left her mouth, she lifted her foot and stomped it down on my stomach. The thin stiletto heel sank into the wound, and her eyes glinted with malice as she ground it back and forth. The gash was ripped open wider. The sharp heel churned my insides. The pain was so intense it felt like my heart was being torn apart. My screams echoed through the room, mingling with Audrey’s maniacal laughter. Just then, the screech of tires tore through the air outside. A dozen Maseratis slammed to a halt in front of the boutique. A relieved smile spread across my face. I clutched the gaping wound in my abdomen. Staring straight into Audrey’s eyes, I enunciated each word with chilling clarity. “Remember this. In Southcrest, the sky belongs to the Sinclairs. Victoria Sinclair.” “Now, my brother is here. Are you ready to die?” 2 “Victoria!” My brother, Alistair, roared my name as he sprinted towards me. He was already shrugging off his bespoke suit jacket, frantically draping it over my body. One arm wrapped around me, holding me tight, while the other pressed down hard on my bleeding stomach. The familiar warmth of his presence was a comfort. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” His voice was soft and warm, but when he turned to face Audrey, it dropped to a lethal chill. “You’re the one who did this to my sister?” Audrey was completely unfazed. She shot my brother a scornful look. “Well, well. So protective. Don’t tell me the bastard in her belly is yours?” “Yeah, I’m the one who took care of her. What are you going to do about it? Now I’m going to take care of you and your little lover, too!” The moment the words left her mouth, her bodyguards moved to surround us. Alistair gave a single, sharp look. His own security team surged forward, and in a blur of motion, they had every one of her men on the ground. But as I looked past them, I saw more of Audrey’s men pouring in from outside. My heart sank. “Alistair, why did you only bring a few people?” I asked, a new wave of fear washing over me. “It happened so fast. I was nearby, so I just brought the guys who were with me. Don’t worry, Dad is on his way.” He soothed me patiently. “Let’s see who dares to touch my sister while I’m here.” I relaxed slightly. Then I saw Audrey, gritting her teeth as she looked at her downed men, and pulling out her phone. Her voice instantly became sickly sweet. “Hubby, some people are bullying me! Aren’t you going to do something about it?” “Of course, I will!” Donovan’s voice—so familiar, yet so foreign—crackled from the speakerphone Audrey had deliberately activated. Familiar, because it was unmistakably him. Foreign, because the doting, gentle tone was one I had never heard him use, not even with me. A flash of bitterness cut through me, chipping away at the guilt I felt over my child’s death. Audrey shot a triumphant look at my brother and me, her voice a saccharine whine. “It’s this guy, Alistair Sinclair. He’s already taken out a bunch of my bodyguards, and he’s threatening to kill me!” “I’m so scared, you have to come quick, okay?” “Ali… Alistair Sinclair?” Donovan’s voice went sharp, as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. “Which Alistair Sinclair?! What the hell did you do?!” The string of questions made Audrey’s expression falter. She quickly switched off the speakerphone. But we could still faintly hear Donovan’s enraged shouting. “Stay right where you are! Don’t do anything! Do you hear me? Don’t do a damn thing! I’m on my way!” Audrey mumbled her location and quickly hung up. She took a deep breath, her arrogant smirk returning. “You’re both dead meat! My husband is on his way!” “He said if you end up dead, so be it. We’ll just throw some money at the problem. Who the hell is Alistair Sinclair anyway? Never even heard of him!” With a wave of her hand, her remaining bodyguards swarmed us. My brother’s men, as skilled as they were, were outnumbered. One by one, they fell. A dozen burly men closed in on us. Alistair stood up, shielding me with his body. After just a couple of exchanges, bloody gashes appeared on his arms. Seeing the blood welling from my brother’s wounds, my vision turned red. I struggled to grab the knife that had been dropped on the floor. Staggering to my feet, I lunged at Audrey, who was shouting with glee. She reacted instinctively, shoving me hard. The dagger, which I had managed to plunge into her side, was ripped from my grasp. The pain was even worse than before. Audrey’s screams grew even more shrill. Her bodyguards froze. She clutched her side, her eyes spitting venom at me as I lay on the floor. “What are you all standing there for! Kill them! Kill them!” Her men sprang into action, and a rain of clubs fell upon us. Alistair threw himself in front of me, taking the brunt of the blows. The sickening thud of the weapons hitting his body echoed in my ears. Suddenly, a warm drop of blood landed on my lips. My brother’s body convulsed, and he collapsed on top of me. “Alistair…? Alistair? Wake up…” There was no response. Dazed, I managed to turn my head. I could see blood pouring from a wound on the back of his head. Before I could even process my terror, the bodyguards dragged us to the roof. They bound us tightly and hung us over the side of the shopping mall. Their rough handling tore at the wound in my stomach, and my clothes were soaked with blood. My brother, hanging a few feet away, had a dark, spreading stain on the back of his white shirt. The biting wind kept me conscious. But my unconscious brother just swayed limply in the breeze. A crowd had gathered below, and their jeering accusations drifted up to me. “Heard she’s the mistress, got pregnant by some other guy to try and trap the husband. The wife caught them, so now they’re both getting what they deserve.” “Tsk, tsk. Serves her right. Can’t even be a proper mistress!” I could only keep talking to my brother, hoping my voice would wake him. The minutes stretched on. My own consciousness was fading, and there was still no response from Alistair. Audrey’s arrogant voice echoed from the rooftop. “Oh, still alive?” The sight of her made my blood boil. I clenched my jaw. “Audrey, you better let us down right now. When my father gets here, you won’t be able to handle the consequences.” She just laughed, a wild, unhinged sound, and took a compound bow from one of her men. “Oh, really? Then I’d better hurry up and kill the two of you, so I have some company in hell.” She drew the bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at my brother’s swaying body. “You know, Donovan and I met at an archery range. You know how good he is, right?” “Unfortunately, my skills aren’t quite as polished.” My heart plunged. The archery range… I had funded it for him. I never imagined it would be the place where he began his affair. The next second, a searing pain shot through me. An arrow was embedded in my shoulder. I bit down hard to keep from screaming. “So annoying. I was aiming for your brother. How did I miss by that much?” The bowstring twanged again. This time, the arrow flew true, piercing my brother’s chest. The agony jolted him awake. He let out a furious roar. Seeing our situation, his eyes blazed with a tangible fury. “Audrey, is it? I swear to you, I will tear you limb from limb!” But Audrey just laughed maniacally, mechanically drawing, nocking, and firing. Alistair thrashed wildly, trying to shield me with his own body. In moments, he was riddled with arrows, his body a canvas of crimson. A choked, gurgling sound escaped his throat. On the rooftop, Audrey seemed to tire, leaning on the railing, panting. Suddenly, my phone, which she had, started ringing. She answered it, confused. Donovan’s frantic voice came through. “Victoria, where are you? I’ll explain everything about Audrey, I promise. Just please, don’t hurt her!” “You don’t want me to hate you for the rest of my life, do you?” I laughed. “Donovan! It’s me and my brother who are about to be killed by your little pet canary!” “And the child you wanted so badly is already gone!” I screamed towards the phone, but the wind snatched my words away. The only voice that carried was Audrey’s, hesitant and suspicious. “Hubby? Why are you calling her?” “Don’t worry, I’ve handled it. But… you might have to pay a little something…” Donovan was silent on the other end. All we could hear was his heavy breathing. A moment later, his furious roar erupted. “Audrey! What the hell did you do to Victoria Sinclair?! Don’t you know who she is? She’s the fucking Sinclair heiress! I…” Audrey abruptly hung up. She frowned, staring at the number on the screen, lost in thought. Her eyes darted back and forth as she muttered to herself. She looked up at my brother, who was on the verge of death, and at me, still struggling. “What damn Sinclairs…” 3 “You’re Victoria Sinclair?” Audrey stood over me on the rooftop where I’d just been hauled back up, her pupils dilating wildly. I gave a cold laugh in response. “What? You believe me now?” “Never seen Donovan that panicked before, have you?” But the next second, her trembling stopped, and a crazed look flashed in her eyes. “Impossible! It’s absolutely impossible!” “I’m Donovan’s wife! I’m the rightful Mrs. Donovan!” She pulled a marriage certificate from her purse and threw it at my chest. “You! You’re just some dirty little secret!” I hesitantly opened the certificate, my brow furrowing. The bright red seal, the clear security watermark, the official serial number. Everything about it screamed that it was real. My mind flashed back to our wedding three years ago. Donovan had insisted on going to the registrar’s office alone, saying he didn’t want me to get tired. I suddenly laughed. Laughed at how stupid I had been. To be fooled for so many years by that piece of trash. I looked up at Audrey, my eyes filled with nothing but boundless hatred. “Perfect. The two of you can be a legitimate couple on your way to hell.” “But you’re the mistress, why are you acting so righteous?” Audrey suddenly shrieked. She was panting, her voice dropping to a low growl. “But… Donovan has never yelled at me before. That’s right. It must be you, you bitch, you’ve bewitched him!” “You knew how badly he wanted a child, so you just found some random guy to knock you up, didn’t you?” “This child can’t be Donovan’s… it’s impossible…” A manic light gleamed in Audrey’s eyes. She snatched the dagger from the ground and raised it high above me. “After I kill the bastard in your belly, you’re next!” As the blade began to fall, I finally realized what she was about to do. I twisted my body, trying to dodge. Seeing my resistance, Audrey screamed, “Hold her down! When she’s dead, Donovan will only love me!” The bodyguards pinned my arms and legs. I watched in horror as Audrey raised the dagger again. “Audrey! You dare—” “Aaargh!” The searing pain of the blade piercing my flesh cut off my words. I could feel the cold steel sawing across my stomach. Waves of tearing agony washed over me, forcing me to stay conscious. The cool wind on my exposed abdomen dropped my body temperature to freezing. I screamed until my voice was raw, then my head fell weakly to the side. I saw my brother, who had been on the brink of death, suddenly stir. He began to crawl towards me, his voice strained. “Victoria… wait for me… I’m… coming to save you…” His eyes were bloodshot with desperation, tears streaming from the corners. With every inch he moved, the arrows embedded in his body pushed deeper. Seeing the trail of blood he left behind, my vision swam with rage. “Alistair! Don’t move! Just go! Leave me!” But he kept crawling, his words growing fainter. “I’m… not leaving… I can’t… watch my sister… suffer…” And I had never seen my brilliant, charming brother so broken and battered… I struggled uselessly against the hands holding me down, regret solidifying in my heart. If… if I hadn’t insisted on marrying that scumbag Donovan. If I hadn’t given him a second chance when I first heard the rumors. My child wouldn’t be dead. My brother wouldn’t be in this state. I turned my head, locking my eyes on Audrey, and screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. “Audrey! You and Donovan will pay for what you’ve done to my brother and my child! You will pay in blood!” But Audrey was lost in her own world. She reached into my sliced-open stomach and grabbed my lifeless child. “This bastard doesn’t even look like Donovan! You lied to him! You all have to die!” “Stop!” Donovan stumbled through the rooftop door, his face turning ashen at the scene before him. The next second, the sky above the rooftop was filled with the roar of dozens of private helicopters. My father, William Sinclair, stood at the open cabin door, looking down at the carnage below. “You dare to touch my children? You’re looking for death!”

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For six years, Taylor White and I, Caleb Clark, had been together, talking marriage. Then, suddenly, she asked me to wait. She said she had to have a grand wedding with her first love, Leo Hayes, before she could marry me. It was the dying wish of Leo’s mother, who was battling a terminal illness. Taylor couldn’t bear to see the old woman pass with regret, and tearfully promised at her bedside that she would give Leo a home. But she forgot my own mother had also long awaited my wedding. Stunned, I asked her what about me. She impatiently snapped: “Can’t you have some empathy? It’s just two more months. Are you that desperate to get married, like some weak woman?” I told her my mother had a heart condition and couldn’t handle stress. But right in front of me, she booked a marriage registration appointment: “Regardless, the groom for this wedding can only be Leo. Even if your mother can’t wait and actually dies, she’ll have to wait in line for me to marry you!” Watching her resolute back, I dialed home: “Sis, for the wedding in ten days, help me find a different bride!” 1. My sister, Chloe Clark, was shocked to hear I wanted a new bride. “What’s going on with you and Taylor, Caleb? Marriage isn’t a game, and Mom can’t handle that kind of stress!” It was precisely because I knew Mom couldn’t handle the stress that I turned to my sister for help. Fortunately, Taylor and I had dated for six years, and she had consistently refused to meet my parents. Mom only knew I had a girlfriend but never knew who she was. “Sis, I’m serious. Taylor and I can’t get married anymore!” I certainly didn’t want to commit bigamy. I expected my sister to scold me for being thoughtless, but she only paused for a moment before comforting me: “Back when she started seeing you behind my back, I warned you to be careful. If I hadn’t seen how much you liked her, I wouldn’t have even called her my honorary sister! This works out perfectly!” “Actually, before Mom and Dad knew you were dating, they’d already picked out someone for an arranged marriage for you—that girl you mentioned, the one who looks completely enchanted every time she sees you. She’s been waiting for you to break up, and just a few days ago, she even joked that if your wife wasn’t as good as her, she’d crash the wedding…” As soon as my sister mentioned it, I remembered who she meant. My parents had indeed brought it up, but at that time, Taylor and I had already been secretly dating for two years. My heart and mind were completely consumed by Taylor; how could I be willing to marry someone I barely knew? After I hung up the phone, Taylor, consumed by jealousy, kissed me fiercely to assert her claim: “Caleb Clark, you’ll never marry another woman besides me in this lifetime!” With tear-filled eyes, she begged me to grow old with her, finally admitting to my sister that we had secretly pledged ourselves to each other. She let my sister scold her for being a bad woman who had betrayed her trust without a single word of protest. At the time, my sister asked if she had truly moved on from him. Taylor immediately knelt and swore to heaven that she would only love me in this life. Her “lifetime” turned out to be terribly short. The wedding was in ten days; time was pressing. I cut my sister off directly: “Then let her be my bride. No need for a dramatic wedding crash.” The moment I finished speaking, Taylor, who had returned to retrieve her ID, pushed the door open and froze: “Wedding crash? You’re going to crash a wedding?” She glared at me as if I were the enemy: “Caleb Clark, I told you I would marry you, and I will. If you still want to marry me, don’t cause trouble! If you dare to crash and ruin Leo’s and my wedding, don’t blame me if I disown you!” I hadn’t even uttered a word, and she had already imagined me as the villain. 2. Hadn’t she already disowned me when she told me to wait for her wedding with Leo Hayes? For six years, every birthday, she would say we’d marry next year. But every “next year,” she had various reasons to avoid meeting my parents and postpone the wedding. For example, she said I was too young and shouldn’t be constrained by marriage. Or that she wanted her career to be more stable so she could assist my family’s business after marriage. Every reason, she claimed, was for my good. I loved her, so I truly believed she had my best interests at heart, and I constantly tried to placate my sister, who had long wanted to punch Taylor. After six years of waiting, even friends joked that we’d hit the “seven-year itch” before getting married. Only then did she accept my tenth proposal. The date was set, the wedding was being prepared, yet she still refused to meet my parents, saying she wanted to give them a big surprise at the wedding. But then, Leo Hayes returned to the country with his gravely ill mother. That’s when I realized I was a joke. I gave a self-deprecating smile, retrieved Taylor’s ID from the drawer for her: “Don’t worry, I have no interest in other men’s wives.” This statement seemed to sting Taylor. She frowned: “How many times do I have to explain for you to understand? This is just a fleeting, symbolic wedding. Afterward, I’m entirely yours. What more could you want?” “I understand. Go ahead and get your marriage certificate. It’s best to commit fully to the act.” The sincerity on my face made Taylor’s hand, reaching for her ID, tremble. She seemed a little guilty and explained: “I won’t actually register with Leo; it’s just a formality at the civil registry…” A formality also requires an ID? I casually hummed in response. Taylor seemed momentarily lost, taken aback by my unusual behavior. She stepped forward, intending to console me with a kiss. Then, Leo Hayes, who had apparently been listening outside the door for an unknown period, suddenly entered, squeezing between us. His movements were too forceful, and he subtly exerted pressure, pushing me backward. I stumbled, losing my balance, and fell to the ground. He, meanwhile, pulled Taylor, who had almost been knocked over, into his arms. Taylor clung to him tightly, frightened, and the two, pressed close together, uncontrollably tumbled to the floor. I watched coldly as Taylor sat atop Leo, while Leo, his face flushed with embarrassment, said in a voice just loud enough for me to hear: “Taylor, you… you’re hurting me…” Taylor cleared her throat, her cheeks crimson, but her hand remained on Leo’s abs, refusing to move. Leo looked at Taylor, his eyes full of yearning, then feigned helplessness and apologized to me: “Caleb Clark, I’m so sorry. You can hit me or yell at me, just don’t hurt Taylor! If she gets injured…” Not wanting to see the sickening pair still clinging together, I stood up on my own and walked out: “Whether she’s hurt or not, you can check for yourself. Do you need me to close the door for you?” This made Taylor’s passion-flushed face instantly turn a dark shade, whether from holding her breath or anger, I couldn’t tell: “Caleb Clark! How could you be so crude?” Me, crude? She was sitting on Leo, flushed with shyness, refusing to get up. Who was truly crude? I thoughtfully closed the door for them. While waiting for the elevator, Leo, with suspicious moisture on his face, came out and stopped me: “Caleb Clark, I’m sorry, don’t misunderstand Taylor and me. It was truly a misunderstanding! If it weren’t for my mother needing to see the marriage certificate to feel at ease, I wouldn’t trouble Taylor! Please, for my filial piety, don’t cause trouble at the wedding!” 3. “Once the time is up, Taylor and I will divorce, and I’ll give her back to you!” Saying this, he actually tried to kneel before me. Taylor, her face now back to its normal color, immediately rushed over, pulled him up, and glared at me: “Caleb Clark, I’m warning you, don’t overplay your hand and make it irreversible!” “From today until the end of the wedding, you are to stay put at home. I’ll assign a bodyguard to watch you!” With that, she called her assistant, requesting someone be sent to monitor me, to prevent me from causing trouble. Then, she checked the time and, without delay, took Leo to the civil registry. As the elevator doors closed, I didn’t miss the triumph and provocation in Leo’s eyes. Nor did I miss Taylor’s question: “Leo, did you bring your ID?” This wasn’t merely an act for Leo’s mother; it was clearly an act for me. Before her assigned bodyguards arrived, I quickly drove to the bridal shop to pick up the wedding dress. It was a handmade gown I had specially ordered from Italy to marry Taylor. But because she had recently lost a little weight, some parts needed to be altered to be smaller. There was no reason for her to marry someone else while keeping the wedding dress I ordered; it was illogical. To my surprise, when I arrived at the bridal shop, the owner looked puzzled: “Mr. Clark, your fiancée picked up the wedding dress a few days ago! She even brought a man with her to try it on. I wasn’t in the shop at the time…” The owner, seeing my troubled expression, immediately checked the security footage. On the monitor, Taylor, wearing the wedding dress I had ordered, slowly walked towards Leo, who was stunned and captivated: “Leo, do I look beautiful?” Taylor’s face radiated a smile I had never seen before. Leo’s eyes, meanwhile, gleamed with an almost green light: “Beautiful, even more beautiful than you were in my dreams! Taylor, pinch me, let me see if this is a dream. All these years, I could only marry you in my dreams…” With that, he actually choked up. Taylor, her heart aching for him, stood on tiptoes and kissed away every tear from Leo’s face: “Silly, it’s a good thing you came back in time, otherwise I would have married someone else…” The owner, watching the two passionately embracing in the video, apologized to me with extreme embarrassment: “Mr. Clark, I’m so sorry, this was my employee’s oversight… I’ll find an excuse to get the dress back for you right away!” Anyone could tell I had been cheated on, and my wedding dress stolen. The owner, furious, quickly called Taylor. The moment the owner spoke, Taylor erupted in anger: “Did Caleb Clark tell you to demand the wedding dress back? Tell him I’ll wear this dress to marry him; don’t go looking for trouble! If he causes any problems at my wedding to Leo, he’ll regret it!” I never expected Taylor to be so shameless. Why would she think I would still marry her? The owner looked at the beeping phone, embarrassed, and offered me compensation. I believed in dealing with people justly, so I immediately sent a screenshot of the original wedding dress order to Taylor. Taylor’s phone rang immediately: “Caleb Clark, what is the meaning of this? You’re asking for money because I wore the custom dress early? Shouldn’t you feel it’s worth more, having been worn an extra time?” But then, Leo said he wanted to keep the wedding dress as a treasured memory, and Taylor promptly hung up and transferred the money to me. “You quickly find the owner to custom-make another handmade wedding dress for me. It has to be even more beautiful than this one, otherwise, I won’t marry you!” 4. Six years of love, and for the first time, I realized I never truly knew Taylor White. Watching her location marker stop at the civil registry, I expected to feel heartache, but in reality, I felt nothing. I had just turned off the shared location on our couples app when Mr. Jenkins, her assistant, arrived with two bodyguards. “Mr. Clark, as long as you don’t cause trouble, we won’t interfere with your movements!” Mr. Jenkins, who had once been incredibly warm towards me, spoke polite words, but his gaze was full of disdain. I couldn’t be bothered to speak with such a fickle person. After handling my resignation at the company, I drove home. However, the automatic gate to the underground parking couldn’t recognize my car. The security guard checked the system and told me the parking space was now registered to another vehicle. After scanning my way back into the garage, I saw a new car parked in my spot. It was a birthday gift Taylor had said she would give me two months ago. But now, the person getting out of the car was Leo Hayes. He saw me at once but pretended not to, deliberately waving a bright red marriage certificate as he asked Taylor: “Taylor, as soon as the civil registry opens tomorrow, I’ll go with you to file for divorce, so it won’t delay your marriage to Caleb.” Even redder than the marriage certificate were Leo’s eyes. Taylor squeezed his cheek, coaxing him: “Silly, why are you in such a hurry? Caleb won’t marry anyone but me anyway. Even if he has to wait another ten or eight years, he’d be happy to.” I stared at their backs as they walked into the house together, and booked a hotel for myself. Feeling annoyed, I went for my usual run at a nearby park. After completing one lap, I encountered Taylor and Leo, who never liked night runs, strolling hand-in-hand, exchanging sweet nothings. Taylor leaned against Leo, appearing utterly devoted. I had no interest in their romantic words, so I put on my headphones and headed in the opposite direction, unaware that I was being followed. As I was injected with a sedative, my mouth and nose covered, and dragged into a car, I struggled with all my might. But the person choked my neck, refusing to let go. In the reflection of the car window, I saw a face that bore a strong resemblance to Leo. “You dare to steal my son’s woman? You deserve to die!” I waved desperately at Mr. Jenkins in the distance, but he seemed not to see me. He answered a phone call, then drove off with the two bodyguards. The woman behind me possessed incredible strength, not at all like someone terminally ill with only days to live. When I woke again, utterly weak, Leo’s mother lay pale in a pool of blood. Before I could understand what was happening, Taylor and her people kicked open the door. Leo, seeing his mother like this, shrieked: “Mom, what happened? Don’t scare me…” He clutched his mother tightly, roaring at me: “Caleb Clark, what did I ever do to you that you would so cruelly harm my mother? She has only a few days left to live…” Taylor, who suffered from hemophobia, barely dared to look at the pool of blood. But that didn’t stop her from calling an ambulance while simultaneously kicking me hard in the chest: “Caleb Clark, you’ve truly disappointed me!” As she reached for her phone to call the police, Leo stopped her: “Taylor, forget it. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you for help. Now I just want Mom to be safe…” Taylor, enraged, turned her fury on Mr. Jenkins:

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“When is she going to quit?” The voice from the breakroom wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. I stood at the doorway, cup in hand, motionless. “Should be soon. It’s been three months.” “I bet she’s gone by the end of this week. A round of hot pot on it.” “You’re on.” I turned and walked back to my desk. My desk was next to the restrooms, a place with a permanent, 24/7 odor. I sat down, opened my laptop, and continued working on my spreadsheet. No one knew what I had been documenting for the past three months. And no one knew just how long the list I was going to read at the annual meeting would be. 1. My name is Anya, and I’m 32 years old. Three months ago, I was transferred to this branch office with the title of “Specialist.” No specific duties, no clear reporting line, not even an official ID badge. The HR manager’s explanation was: “It’s a transitional period. Just get acclimated for now.” I didn’t ask what “transitional period” meant, nor did I ask what I was supposed to be getting acclimated to. I just swiped in on time every day, sat at my desk, and created spreadsheets that nobody wanted. In the first week, people still said hello. By the second week, the greetings became sparse. By the third week, out of more than twenty people in the department, not a single one looked my way. When I walked over, they scattered. When I sat down, they lowered their voices. When I went to the breakroom, it fell silent. I’m not an idiot. I knew what was happening. But I said nothing. I just came on time, left on time, and did what needed to be done in between. On Monday morning, I discovered my desk had been moved. It used to be by the window. Now, it was next to the restrooms. “Anya,” the young woman from administration said with a sweet smile, “it’s quieter over there. Better for you.” I glanced at her but didn’t say a word. Fine. So be it. I carried my laptop over, arranged my files, and got back to work. The restroom door swung open and closed, releasing waves of unpleasant smells. Someone walked by, covering their nose and snickering. I pretended not to see. At noon, the department went out for a team lunch. I was the last to find out. Or more accurately, I didn’t “find out,” I “discovered.” At 12:30, the entire office was empty. I went to the breakroom for some water and heard laughter echoing from the elevator. Back at my desk, I opened my phone. There was a group photo in the department chat. “Mr. Peterson is treating! Cheers, everyone!” The picture showed a table laden with food, with over twenty people raising their glasses, all smiles. I scrolled through the chat history. No one had tagged me. No one had asked, “Anya, are you coming?” It was as if I didn’t exist. At two in the afternoon, they returned. Veronica, the manager, led the way, her face flushed from the wine. She paused as she passed my desk. “Oh, Anya, you didn’t go to lunch?” I looked up at her. “No one told me.” She froze for a second, then laughed. “Oh, dear. We forgot. Next time, then.” And with that, she walked away. I lowered my head and continued typing. A colleague nearby whispered, “What an act. Still waiting for a personal invitation.” Another one chuckled. “She’s got thick skin. Let her wait.” I didn’t turn around. But I did open a new document. In the first line, I wrote: December 3rd. Department lunch. I was not informed. Participants: Veronica, Mark, Tina… I wrote down every name. Then I saved the document and closed it. And went back to my spreadsheets. At four o’clock, I finished a market analysis report. It was a task I had assigned myself. No one had asked for it, and no one wanted it. But I did it anyway, and I did it meticulously. I sent the report to Veronica, and CC’d the general manager, Mr. Peterson. “Veronica, here is the Q4 market data I compiled, for your reference.” Five minutes later, Veronica replied. “Got it.” Two words. That was it. The next day, I saw my report featured on Mr. Peterson’s social media. His caption read: “Veronica’s team is killing it! This report is incredibly professional!” Below were dozens of likes and comments. “Veronica is a rockstar!” “Stick with Veronica and you’ll go far!” “The data analysis is so detailed. Great work, Veronica!” I scrolled to the cover page of the report. In the author field, my name was gone. It had been replaced with “Veronica’s Team.” I stared at those two words for a long time. Then I opened my document and wrote on a new line: December 4th. My market analysis report was credited to “Veronica’s Team.” Author: Veronica. I saved it and closed it. In the following days, similar incidents piled up. The PowerPoint I made became Tina’s. The data I compiled became Mark’s. The proposal I wrote became the “department’s collective effort.” Every single time, I recorded it. Date, content, people involved. Entry by entry, crystal clear. On Friday afternoon, Veronica called me into her office. “Anya,” she said, sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed. “How long have you been with the company?” “Three weeks.” “And how do you find it?” “It’s fine.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine? You think your performance is ‘fine’?” I remained silent. “Anya, let me be blunt,” she leaned forward. “You’re not a good fit for our department.” “Oh.” “Look at you. You don’t socialize, you’re not proactive. You just sit there every day like a block of wood.” “Mm-hmm.” “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I looked at her and said calmly, “Veronica, what would you like me to say?” She was taken aback for a moment, then sneered. “I’d like you to have some self-awareness. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll write your resignation letter. The company will give you a severance package.” “And if I don’t?” “If you don’t?” She leaned back again. “Then don’t blame me for playing rough.” I stood up. “Okay, I understand.” “Understand what?” “I understand you’re going to play rough.” I turned, walked out, and gently closed the door behind me. Back at my desk, I opened my document and wrote: December 8th. Meeting with Veronica. She suggested I resign and threatened to ‘play rough’ if I refused. Saved. Closed. I glanced at the calendar. Three months to go. That was plenty of time. 2. Starting the fourth week, the isolation escalated. Before, it was just not inviting me to lunch or talking to me. Now, it was— Not notifying me of meetings. My expense reports getting “accidentally” lost. The printer always breaking down the moment I needed to use it. My requests for office supplies were never approved. The stapler I used, I bought myself. The pens, I bought myself. Even the A4 paper, I brought from home. Once, I went to administration to get a notebook. The young woman smiled. “Anya, your request isn’t in the system.” I said, “I submitted it last week.” She shrugged. “Must be a system glitch. Can you submit it again?” I submitted it again. A week later, still no approval. I stopped submitting requests. I went to the convenience store downstairs, bought a pack of notebooks, and used my own. On Wednesday afternoon, I overheard the bet in the breakroom. “I bet she resigns this week.” “I’ll take next week.” “What’s the wager?” “A hot pot dinner, how about it?” “You’re on!” I stood at the doorway, cup in hand, completely still. The people inside hadn’t noticed me. “Seriously, why doesn’t she just leave? She’s so thick-skinned.” “Probably holding out for a payout.” “A payout? Who does she think she is, demanding a payout?” “Exactly. She brought this on herself by not taking the hint.” Their laughter drifted out, grating on my ears. I turned and walked back, my steps light. At my desk, I opened my document: December 11th. Breakroom conversation overheard. Tina, Mark, and Jenna made a bet on when I would resign. Wager: a hot pot dinner. Saved. I looked at the screen and suddenly smiled. Hot pot, huh? Sounds good. I’ll treat you all later. In the afternoon, Veronica struck again. This time, it was a meeting. The department’s monthly meeting, the kind everyone had to attend. Ten minutes before it started, I saw everyone packing up their things. I asked Jenna, who sat next to me, “What meeting is it?” She glanced at me, said nothing, and walked away with her notebook. I caught up to Mark. “What time is the meeting? Which conference room?” Mark didn’t even turn his head. “I don’t know.” I stood there, watching them disappear one by one down the hall. The office was empty. I was the only one left. I checked my email. No meeting invitation. I checked the department chat. Nothing there either. I sat back down at my desk and opened my document: December 13th. Department monthly meeting. I was not notified. After writing that, I thought for a moment and added another line: [Meeting content to be investigated.] Half an hour later, they returned. Veronica was at the front, looking displeased. She paused by my desk. “Anya, why weren’t you at the meeting?” I looked up. “No one notified me.” “We did,” she frowned. “It was posted in the group chat.” “I checked. It wasn’t.” “Well, maybe you just missed it,” she said, a hint of mockery in her voice. I didn’t reply. She said nothing more and walked away. I took out my phone and screenshotted the entire group chat history for the day. There was indeed no meeting notice. Not a single one. I saved the screenshot to my folder. Evidence +1. Friday was my birthday. No one knew, and no one asked. I sat alone at my desk, eating a rice ball from the convenience store, looking out the window. Outside, the sky was a dreary gray, filled with one office building after another. I was 32. Ten years ago, I was a fresh graduate, full of ambition. Five years ago, I was promoted to management, convinced the future was bright. One year ago, I was transferred to this branch, to start all over again. Now, I was sitting next to a restroom, eating a rice ball on my birthday. My phone buzzed. It was an email. Sender: HR. Subject: [Notice of Termination Discussion] I clicked it open. “Ms. Anya Shen, please report to the HR department at 3:00 PM on December 15th for a termination discussion.” I stared at the email for a long time. A termination discussion. They didn’t even bother to speak to me first, just sent an email. I didn’t reply. I just opened my document and wrote: December 13th. My birthday. Received email notice for a termination discussion. After writing, I closed my laptop. I stood up, grabbed my bag, and left. The elevator was empty. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and suddenly smiled. Three weeks. They had no idea who I was. They had no idea why I was here. And they certainly had no idea what was going to happen at the annual meeting in three months. I pressed the button for the ground floor. No rush. Let’s take this nice and slow. 3. On the day of the termination discussion, I arrived on time. The HR manager’s name was Collins. He was in his early thirties, wore glasses, and looked perfectly professional. But his first words told me exactly what kind of person he was. “Anya Shen, right? Have a seat.” I sat. He shuffled some papers and looked up at me. “You’ve been with the company for almost a month now.” “Yes.” “How are you finding it?” “It’s fine.” He smiled, a practiced, corporate smile. “Anya, I’ll be direct. The company is not satisfied with your performance.” “In what way?” “Across the board, really.” He shrugged. “You’re not a team player, not proactive, and your work output is low…” I cut him off. “My market analysis report, the one Mr. Peterson praised on his social media? I wrote that.” He blinked. “That… wasn’t that from Veronica’s team?” “It was credited to Veronica’s team, but I am the original author.” He frowned. “Do you have proof?” I smiled. “Mr. Collins, I’m here today to listen to what you have to say, not to argue with you. Please, continue.” He was momentarily flustered but recovered quickly. “In any case, the company’s position is that we hope you will resign voluntarily. As compensation, we can offer you the standard severance package.” “And if I don’t leave?” “If you don’t leave?” He took off his glasses and wiped them. “Well, that would be more complicated. You know how it is in the corporate world…” He didn’t finish, but the message was clear. Don’t leave, and the harassment will continue. I stood up. “Okay, I understand.” “Think about it and give me your answer tomorrow.” “No need to think about it.” “Oh?” “I’m not leaving.” He stared at me, stunned. I looked him in the eye and said calmly, “Mr. Collins, I will not be resigning voluntarily. If the company wishes to terminate my employment, please follow the proper procedure. Labor laws require written notice stating the grounds for dismissal.” “You…” “And I’d also like to remind you,” I paused, “that I have records of every instance my work has been credited to someone else, and every time I have been deliberately isolated. If the company wants to take this to court, I’m ready.” His face changed. I said nothing more, turned, and walked out. Leaving the HR department, I took a deep breath. Round one was over. Not a win, but definitely not a loss. When I returned to my desk, the atmosphere had shifted. Before, it was like I was invisible. Now, it was— Hostility. Naked, undisguised hostility. The door to Veronica’s office was open. She stood in the doorway, staring at me. Her gaze was like a knife. I pretended not to notice, sat down, and opened my laptop. Five minutes later, she marched over. “Anya.” I looked up. “What did you say to HR just now?” “Nothing much.” “Nothing much?” She sneered. “Did you threaten him?” “I just told him I have evidence.” The look in her eyes changed. “What evidence?” I looked at her and said slowly, “Veronica, for the report you put your name on, I have the original draft. For the meetings you didn’t notify me about, I have screenshots. For my desk being moved next to the restroom, I have photos.” I paused. “Would you like to see?” Her face went white. But only for a second. She quickly regained her haughty composure. “Anya, who do you think you are? You think you can fight me?” “I don’t want to fight you.” “Then what do you want?” I smiled faintly. “I just want to do my job properly.” She stared at me for a few seconds, then snorted and stalked away. I lowered my head and went back to work. But I knew, from this day forward, everything was different. She would get crazier. She would become more reckless. She would use every trick in the book to get me fired. I wasn’t afraid. This was exactly what I was waiting for. The bigger the scene she made, the more evidence I would have. And the more evidence I had, the longer the list I would read at the annual meeting. I opened my document. It was already several pages long. Date, incident, people involved, source of evidence. Every entry was clear and precise. I scrolled down and saw the very first entry. The one I wrote on my first day. I knew back then what would happen. Because before I even arrived, I had done my homework. This branch had been at the bottom for performance for three years straight. This department had had issues with expense reimbursements for two consecutive years. This manager, Veronica, had a salary of over a million dollars, but her performance was practically zero. Headquarters had wanted to make a move for a long time. They just didn’t have the proof. So they sent me. Ostensibly as a “Specialist.” In reality— I am the Head of the Corporate Audit Team. I didn’t come here to be fired. I came here to fire them.

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My sister, Sophie, had this uncanny ability to be everyone’s favorite. Family, strangers—it didn’t matter. No one was immune. One complaint from her about needing a room to practice her dancing, and just like that, I was shipped off to the school dorms. Through the haze of my insecure and sensitive teenage years, Jax was my only lifeline. So when I heard Sophie was transferring to our school, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t even hear the final bell. A lazy grin on his face, Jax tapped me on the head. “That scared I’ll get snatched away?” “Shit, who the hell isn’t watching where they’re going…” The next second, Jax’s cursing died in his throat. My sister was standing there, bathed in sunlight, smiling right at him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I bumped into you.” The next day, I went to find Jax in his classroom for our usual tutoring session. But then I heard his laid-back voice drift out. “Tsk, her sister’s not as bad as she makes her out to be.” “Kinda cute, actually.” 1 The chatter and laughter from the classroom carried on. I stood at the back door, my vision blurring as I slowly blinked. A tear escaped, hitting the tiled floor with a soft splat. “Sophie’s not as bad as Ivy makes her out to be.” Jax’s voice was casual, punctuated by a soft click of his tongue. “Kinda cute, actually.” My knuckles turned white as I clutched the notebook in my hand. His friends immediately started hooting. “Known her for one day and you’re already an expert?” “Shut up, man.” Jax laughed, aiming a light kick at the guy’s leg. “She bumped into me yesterday, spilled her bubble tea all over my uniform.” “She went out of her way to add me on Insta this morning to send me money for the dry cleaning.” The laughter in the room grew louder. “Ooh, I bet she just thought you were hot. A different guy wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment…” “Wait, so does that mean you accepted her follow request?” “Hahahaha, since when does our ‘Campus King’ Jax add girls?” Just yesterday in the hallway, Sophie had smiled and said, “Any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine! It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Sophie.” Jax had pointedly ignored her outstretched hand, letting her smile freeze on her face. “I’m your sister’s friend. That’s all.” That evening, as he walked me back to my dorm, he’d been so proud of himself. “Ivy, see? I’m always on your side. Anyone you don’t like, I won’t have anything to do with them. Promise.” The lamplight was a dim yellow, but his eyes shone brighter than stars. In that moment, I truly believed the nightmare that had haunted me for years was finally over. But now, reality had just slapped me across the face. I scrambled to wipe my tears away, turning to leave. But I moved too quickly. A pen slipped from my pocket, clattering onto the floor. The conversation inside the classroom stopped cold. I bent down to pick it up, my fingers just brushing against the cool plastic when Jax rushed out. “Ivy?” “How long have you been here?” Jax had beautiful eyes—almond-shaped, with a slight upward tilt at the corners. I used to love sketching them. But looking at them now, they felt like a stranger’s. “Just got here.” I pulled my hand back, my voice so calm it surprised even me. “You guys seemed busy catching up. Didn’t want to interrupt.” “You’re being too sensitive.” Jax ran a hand through his hair, a rare flicker of panic on his usually carefree face. “She was just being persistent this morning, insisting she had to pay me back. I figured if I just took the money, that would be the end of it, and we wouldn’t have to deal with any misunderstandings.” “So it’s over now.” I looked him straight in the eye, enunciating each word. “If I asked you to delete her, right now, would you do it?” Jax’s expression froze, then hardened with a flicker of annoyance. “Ivy, don’t be like that. Just deleting someone out of the blue? How awkward is that? She was just trying to apologize. Is it really that big of a deal?” Is it really that big of a deal? Those words were like a dull knife, carving me up piece by piece, leaving me a bloody mess. Something inside me shattered. I slowly pulled my hand from his grasp, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes, it is.” The situation was laughable, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Tears started falling, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them. Jax was stunned. He reached out, about to wipe them away. “Ivy, I’m sorry, I messed up…” Before he could finish, another voice cut in. Sophie was coming up the stairs. Her hair was in a high ponytail today, bouncing in the sunlight, looking painfully bright. “Jax!” She jogged over, her smile sweet as sugar. “Thank you so much for agreeing to tutor me! I just transferred and don’t know anyone. I was so scared…” Her gaze landed on me, paused for a beat, then her eyes crinkled into another smile. “Oh, is Ivy here for tutoring too? Perfect, we can study together!” My head snapped up, my eyes wide with disbelief as I stared at Jax. A chill washed over me. Jax was a top student, but he was also known for his pride. Teachers had often asked him to share his study methods or help struggling students. He’d turned every single one of them down. Except for me. All this time, I had cherished that special treatment, thinking it was just for me. But for Sophie, it was just another thing she could have for the asking. Seeing my silence, Sophie’s voice softened. “We’re sisters. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Ivy?” My whole body was trembling with emotion. I took a deep breath and said evenly, “I mind.” Sophie’s eyes instantly welled up with tears, her expression a mask of confusion. “Ivy, are you mad at me?” “Then… then I won’t do it. Just please, don’t be mad.” Jax stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed. “Ivy, she was a dancer before this. Her grades are really bad, and switching to this academic track now… she really needs the help.” So, he already knew that much about her. “Then she can get a private tutor.” My voice started to shake. “Why does it have to be you?” “Ivy, please don’t be angry…” A single, perfect tear rolled down Sophie’s cheek. “I won’t do it, really. I don’t want you two to fight because of me.” She clutched her textbooks and ran off, her steps frantic. Maybe because she was in such a hurry, she stumbled on the stairs. “Ah!” Sophie clutched her ankle, her face twisted in pain. Jax instinctively moved to go after her. I called out to him, my voice firm. “Jax, if you go after her right now, we are done. For good.” Jax stopped and turned back to look at me. My eyelashes fluttered, a tiny spark of hope igniting in my chest. But he just let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with disgust. “Ivy, no wonder even your own parents don’t like you.” The hallway suddenly felt vast and empty. A draft blew through, and I shivered. The notebook had fallen from my hand at some point. It lay open on the floor, its pages flipping in the wind, revealing the math problems Jax had stayed up all night to organize for me. I knelt to pick it up, my vision so blurry I couldn’t make out the words. A tear splashed onto the page, spreading into a wet, circular stain, like a faded memory. I guess that’s what Jax and I were now. Just a watermark. Soon to dry up, leaving nothing behind. 2 I stumbled back to my classroom in a daze. I couldn’t help it; I collapsed onto my desk and wept. My shoulders shook with each sob. I don’t know how long I cried. Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the back of the room. Startled, I shot upright. In the last row, a pair of long, pale fingers pushed aside a school uniform that had been draped over a desk. A cool, sharp-featured face was revealed. Rowan. The genius who perennially held the top rank in our year, and Jax’s sworn rival. He always slept in the back of the classroom but still managed to beat Jax on every single exam. “So damn loud.” Rowan sat up, the uniform sliding into his lap. His voice was raspy, thick with sleep. “S-sorry…” I hastily wiped away my tears. “I didn’t see you there…” Rowan didn’t respond to my apology. Instead, he stared at me for a few seconds before speaking slowly. “What are you doing here? Don’t you usually go to Jax for tutoring around this time?” I froze. How would Rowan know about that? He was a total loner, never paying attention to anyone else’s business. Once, our homeroom teacher asked him to collect names for a competition. He glanced at the sign-up sheet and said flatly, “Who’s this?” “In our class? Oh. Don’t recognize them.” But his family was so prominent that even the principal greeted him warmly. No one at school dared to gossip about him. “How did you know…?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “The so-called ‘Campus King’ practically lives in our classroom. It’s not exactly subtle.” “The gossip is everywhere. Hard not to know.” Rowan’s tone was flat, impossible to read. “So, why the tears? Because he’s not tutoring you anymore?” I looked down, unsure how to answer. “Yeah…” “He’s only second in our year. What’s so great about that?” Rowan raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with his usual indifference. “With his level of understanding, what could he possibly teach you?” It was such an arrogant thing to say that I couldn’t help but retort, “You’re first in our year, of course you don’t care…” “Then I’ll tutor you.” “What?” I blinked, sure I had misheard him. Rowan stood up and walked over to my desk. He was tall, even taller than Jax. Standing beside me now, he cast a long shadow over my desk. Looking up at him this close, I realized how strikingly handsome he was. If it weren’t for his anti-social nature, the title of ‘Campus King’ probably would have gone to him, not Jax. “I said, I’ll tutor you.” Rowan looked down at me, repeating himself slowly, deliberately. “R-really?” I felt like I’d just won the lottery. I was completely stunned. “But on one condition.” Rowan leaned down slightly, bringing his face level with mine. His eyes were unique—not almond-shaped like Jax’s, but long and narrow, with a faint mole at the outer corner. “What condition?” “From now on, the breakfast you bring for Jax, you bring for me.” Rowan spoke slowly, as if observing my reaction. “Oh, and the water you bring him after his basketball games? That’s for me now, too. Basically…” He paused, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a barely-there smile. “From now on, you’re my sidekick.” It wasn’t a difficult request. And it worked out perfectly, since I had no intention of having anything to do with Jax ever again. “Okay.” I heard myself agree. “I promise.” “Tomorrow morning. Cafeteria, second floor, window three. The breakfast sandwich.” He turned and started walking toward the classroom door, his tone cool. He paused at the doorway and glanced back at me. “And get milk. I don’t drink soy milk.” “Mission accepted.” I gave him a solemn nod. 3 The next morning, I was stopped just as I was leaving the cafeteria with breakfast in hand. Jax had dark circles under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept well. “Ivy,” he said, his gaze falling to the bag in my hand. His brow relaxed slightly. “I knew you wouldn’t stay mad at me…” “I was wrong yesterday. I said some harsh things.” As he spoke, he reached for the bag as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “This isn’t for you.” I sidestepped, moving the bag out of his reach. Jax’s hand froze mid-air, the expression on his face stiffening. “What did you say?” “It’s for Rowan.” I looked him in the eye, my tone perfectly even. Jax’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. After a moment, he let out a cold laugh. “Ivy, are you done with this little tantrum?” “Do you have any idea what the doctor said yesterday? Sophie’s sprain was serious. If she hadn’t gotten to the hospital when she did, she might not have been able to dance properly ever again.” He sighed in frustration, his tone softening a little. “So, in that situation, I would’ve helped a complete stranger. Can you just stop overthinking it?” “You can help whoever you want. You don’t need to explain it to me.” “The food’s getting cold. I have to go.” “Ivy.” Jax grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “Stop joking around. Rowan? Everyone knows he’s arrogant as hell, not to mention his family background.” His fingers tightened, digging into my skin. It hurt. “There’s no way he’d ever give you the time of day…” Before Jax could finish, a cool voice cut him off. “What’s taking so long?” Rowan had appeared out of nowhere. His eyes were fixed on the hand Jax had clamped around my wrist. The morning light outlined his tall frame. His usually distant face was expressionless, but it radiated an unexpected pressure. Rowan casually took the bag from my other hand, completely ignoring Jax. “Did you do the problems I sent you last night?” It took me a second to process. “Y-yes, I did.” “Good. Give them to me.” Rowan held out his hand. “I’ll correct them during morning study hall.” “Come find me after class to get them back. I want them revised before school ends. I’ll go over them with you then.” I immediately started digging through my backpack as I fell into step beside him. “Here.” I pulled out the neatly completed worksheet and handed it to him. Rowan took it, his eyes scanning the page. “Hmm, not bad. You got most of the multiple-choice questions right.” He turned, then glanced back at me after a few steps. “What are you waiting for? Study hall is about to start.” “Oh, right!” I hurried to catch up, ready to learn. “But for the long-form problems, I’m still a little fuzzy on that type of derivative question, especially the second part…” Jax stood frozen in place, his face ashen as he watched the two of us walk away together. 4 The final bell rang, but I was still staring blankly at my physics worksheet. Rowan sat across from me, his red pen flying across the page, leaving a trail of precise marks. He read through the problems incredibly fast, but every correction was scarily accurate. “Your force analysis is wrong,” he said, tapping my paper. “Right here. Gravity and the normal force aren’t a balanced pair. You forgot friction.” “Got it…” I quickly started making the correction. The classroom door opened quietly. Sophie stood in the doorway, her eyes red and puffy. She was wearing a pale pink dress that made her skin look incredibly fair. She had her school uniform, but she never seemed to wear it. “Ivy,” she said softly, “can I talk to you for a second?” My hand paused, then I went back to my work. Sophie bit her lip and walked in anyway, stopping by my desk. “Ivy, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I didn’t know you didn’t want me asking Jax for help… Can you forgive me?” The tip of my pen stalled, bleeding a small black dot onto the paper. “You’ve said what you wanted to say. You can go now,” I said without looking up. “I’m studying.” “I’m not leaving until you forgive me.” Sophie stood her ground, her voice catching with a sob. “Then you can stand there all day.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The room was quiet except for the scratch of my pen on paper and the soft rustle of Rowan occasionally turning a page. The minutes ticked by. Sophie must have been getting tired of standing. She suddenly turned to Rowan, her eyes glistening. “Rowan, have we met before?” Rowan didn’t reply, but she wasn’t deterred. “Can you help me convince my sister? I just really want her to forgive me…” At the sound of his name, Rowan looked up. My heart gave an odd little squeeze. A hopeful light flickered in Sophie’s eyes. Then, Rowan spoke flatly. “Move. You’re in my light.” Sophie’s expression froze solid. I blinked, a strange feeling stirring in my chest. Outside, the sky was growing dark. The security guard came by on his rounds. “Still studying? C’mon, time to go home. I’ve gotta lock up.” I only just realized it was almost eight o’clock. “That’s enough for today.” Rowan packed up his books and pulled a packaged pastry from his bag, holding it out to me. “It’s late. Eat this for now.” He was surprisingly thoughtful, completely at odds with his cold exterior. “Thanks…” I started to reach for it. Suddenly, Sophie swayed, grabbing the desk for support. Her face was pale. “I… I stood for too long, and I haven’t eaten… I think my blood sugar is low…” She looked at the pastry in Rowan’s hand. “Um… could I have that? I feel really sick…” Rowan looked at me. “It’s yours. Your call.” I didn’t quite understand. “She’s asking you,” Rowan repeated patiently. “If you want to give her the pastry.” I turned to Sophie with a fake smile, my voice clear and calm. “Oh. I’m not obligated to give it to you.” A crack appeared in Sophie’s carefully constructed expression. “But… but I really don’t feel well…” She didn’t give up, turning her pleading eyes back to Rowan. “Don’t you have another one? I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow…” Rowan zipped up his backpack and said, without a trace of emotion, “Sorry. I’m a germaphobe.” A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Sophie’s face flushed red, then went pale. Finally, she stormed out in a huff. Now it was just me and Rowan in the classroom. “Tomorrow, I want the shumai from the first cafeteria.” Rowan’s expression was neutral. “Rowan.” I called out to him. “Thank you.” He turned back, raising an eyebrow. “For what?” “Nothing,” I smiled, hugging the pastry to my chest. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

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While I was preparing our seventh-anniversary dinner, Renee suddenly told me she wanted a divorce. “Arthur has depression, and I need to be with him for his treatment.” “We’ll remarry in a year.” In my past life, I waited for her, year after year, only to learn she was pregnant and remarrying her childhood friend. I crashed the wedding, questioning her hysterically. But it only led to her endless revenge and torment. In the end, my family went bankrupt. My parents died, one gone, one driven mad. Even I was thrown into the ocean by creditors, my body never found. Reborn, I didn’t argue or make a scene. I took off my apron and quickly packed my bags. When I went downstairs, she stood with her arms crossed, a look of mockery on her face. “You don’t have to pretend to be so eager. I’m not falling for that playing-hard-to-get act.” “Since I promised we’d remarry, we will.” My hand paused briefly as I signed the divorce papers, then continued quickly and steadily. I was indeed eager, but not to get her attention. It was because I had already signed a top-secret project. From now on, I would disappear completely from her world. 1 As I signed, my mind flashed back to the classified documents I’d signed three days prior. “Adam, you need to be absolutely sure. This isn’t just any confidential project.” “Once you join, all your information will be completely erased.” “Adam Reynolds will cease to exist in this world.” My feelings when signing then were the same as now: calm, resolute, and without hesitation. The last letter, and a heavy weight in my heart, settled together. I handed the agreement to Renee, who stood nearby. “It’s signed.” Seven years of marriage, and the woman’s allure had only grown. Now, however, it held a hint of shattered cruelty. “Adam Reynolds, don’t you have anything to say?” In my past life, I was the one who asked that question. Renee back then had been utterly annoyed and indifferent. “Arthur has a delusional disorder and sees me as his whole world. Only a divorce can calm him down.” “You can choose not to sign, but I have my ways.” My past heartbreak had transformed into present composure. I shook my head. Renee snatched the agreement, her grip so fierce it seemed she meant to rip it apart. She clenched the pen, its tip hovering, reluctant to descend. A scene flashed in my mind. I immediately took off my wedding ring, worn for seven years, and placed it next to the document, adding casually. “I don’t want the car, the house, or the company shares. They’re all yours.” In my past life, to avoid divorce, I had manipulated the assets. When Renee discovered this, she hired the top lawyers from a prestigious firm to fight the case. It left me with nothing, stripped bare. Now, I wanted none of it. Besides, I no longer had the time to divide assets with Renee. Better to make a clean break. The woman let out a cynical laugh. “Fine, Adam Reynolds. You’ve got nerve.” She gripped the pen, barely making a mark, then abruptly looked up. “I’m not cooking. Go make Arthur his favorite black chicken soup.” “Once the soup’s ready, I’ll sign.” My heart, which had been steady, now leaped into my throat. I was somewhat puzzled. Renee not only knew how to cook, but she was an excellent chef. However, in the seven years I had cooked for her, I never knew this. Because she only cooked for Arthur. I took a deep breath and turned into the kitchen. Renee followed close behind. The seafood soup she loved was still simmering in the pot. Now, it was all poured down the drain. She stood by, casually directing me. “Arthur doesn’t like chunky radishes, chop them finer!” “Go easy on the pepper, Arthur’s stomach has been sensitive lately; he can’t handle spicy food.” Once, I had hoped she would understand me as intimately as she did Arthur. But when I was rushed to the hospital for the tenth time, throwing up violently after eating the chestnut dessert she bought, She remained completely unconcerned. “You’re allergic to chestnuts? Really? How would I know? Did you ever tell me?” A pang of sorrow passed. I turned the heat to maximum, wishing the soup would be ready immediately so I could finally break free from Renee. Two hours later, I placed the freshly made soup on the table, then turned to take off my apron. Renee, after taking just one sip of the soup, suddenly slammed the bowl onto my back. “You were trying to poison Arthur, weren’t you?!” 2 Soup drenched my back, the scalding pain reaching deep into my heart. I flinched from the sudden agony, turning back inexplicably. Renee’s face was filled with fury. “I’ve told you a hundred times, Arthur breaks out in a rash every time he eats Szechuan peppercorns.” “I think you did this on purpose. No wonder you seemed so indifferent earlier. You wanted to use this as an opportunity to hurt Arthur!” I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath. Just as I was about to explain that she hadn’t mentioned the allergy at all, she suddenly stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked out without a backward glance. “I’ll give you two more hours. Make the soup and bring it to the hospital.” “Don’t let me catch you playing petty games again.” I grabbed the divorce agreement and chased after her, only catching the fumes of her car. After a long while, I returned to the kitchen, starting the soup again. Before leaving, I had to finalize the divorce. I couldn’t give Renee any chance to find me. While the soup simmered, I opened my social media. The first post was from Arthur. He had shared a photo of the new car Renee bought him. A flashy red, with even the license plate number thoughtfully set to his birthday. [Whatever I want, she always gets it for me immediately.] I stared at the words, a long-buried wound in my heart aching faintly. In my past life, Renee, who was never interested in cars, suddenly asked me to buy her one. After I gifted her the car, she never brought up remarrying. Unable to bear it, I went to find her. I happened to catch her and Arthur kissing passionately in the new car. My own clown-like, bitter smile was reflected in the car window. At the time, she was still lying to me, saying that appropriate physical contact would speed up Arthur’s recovery. Thinking about it now, it was so ridiculous. I had actually chosen to believe her because I was too afraid of losing her. Two hours later, I arrived at the hospital on time, carrying the soup and the agreement. The autumn evening was chilling, with a biting wind. Renee’s phone kept going straight to voicemail. I rubbed my frozen hands, then resolutely headed upstairs, stopping outside the VIP room. Inside the room, Renee was sitting by the bed, peeling an apple for Arthur, her voice tender in a way I had never heard. “Adam and I are divorced. You focus on getting better, I’ll stay with you.” My hand, poised to knock, fell. A pang of emptiness settled in my heart. I sat on a nearby bench. A moment later, Renee finally emerged from the room. The moment she saw me, the tenderness on her face instantly transformed into fury. She anxiously pulled me away. “Adam Reynolds, you came here on purpose to provoke Arthur, didn’t you?” “Get out, don’t appear in front of Arthur!” I shook the soup container, then produced the divorce agreement. “I came to bring Arthur his soup, and also, you haven’t signed this yet…” Renee raised her hand and knocked over the soup container, her anger intensifying. “You want to divorce me that badly?!” As she spoke, Arthur walked out of the room. The moment he saw me, his face turned deathly pale, his lips trembling. “Adam, are you here to take Renee away from me?” He suddenly knelt down, pleading desperately. “Adam, please don’t take Renee away. I truly can’t live without her!!” “If she leaves, what reason do I have to live?!” “I might as well just die right now!” Renee pulled him up, looking at me as if I were her sworn enemy. “Adam Reynolds, are you satisfied now?” “Apologize to Arthur immediately! Swear you’re not here to take me away. Hurry up!” This absurd scene made me chuckle involuntarily. “Renee, can you please be reasonable?” Indifference spread across the woman’s eyes. She waved a hand towards the distance. Two burly bodyguards stepped forward resolutely, one gripping each of my arms and legs, forcefully pushing me down. Excruciating pain shot through me. My legs trembled uncontrollably, and with a thud, I slammed hard onto the floor. The moment my dignity was trampled, a chill pierced my heart. This wasn’t the first time I had knelt for Arthur. 3 The first time was in my past life. I crashed into the wedding venue, hysterically demanding to know why Renee had lied to me. She shielded Arthur behind her, her eyes filled with annoyance. “Why so many questions?” “When love is gone, it’s gone. Now, even looking at you for a second annoys me.” I stood frozen, stiff all over. Arthur had another episode, collapsing on the floor, convulsing. Renee blamed everything on me. Under her relentless pressure, our family factory soon went bankrupt and closed down. My father, burdened with tens of millions in debt, collapsed and jumped from a building. My mother witnessed it all, suffered a severe shock, and had a mental breakdown. In my darkest despair, I knelt before Renee, begging her for mercy. She pointed to Arthur, lying unharmed in the hospital bed. “The person you owe an apology to isn’t me, it’s Arthur.” My dignity and self-respect were utterly gone. I numbly kowtowed, head after head. But I never received any mercy from Renee. In the end, unable to repay the enormous debts, I was thrown into the icy sea by creditors. At the same time, Renee was on a cruise ship, watching fireworks with Arthur. The pain of my past life surged back, suffocating and despairing. I stopped struggling, numbly kneeling on the ground. “I swear to God, from this day forward, I will never approach Renee again.” The kind of solemn vow I once couldn’t utter, now came as easily as drinking water. Arthur instantly calmed down. But Renee’s face remained clouded with anger. She frowned, utterly impatient. “Now, get out!” The bodyguards released their hold. I stood up, picked up the agreement, and dusted it off. “You sign this.” Arthur, who had just calmed down, suddenly went wild again, snatching a small knife from a bodyguard’s belt, his eyes bloodshot. “So you two aren’t divorced yet?!” “Renee, you’ll go back to him anytime, leave me, won’t you?!” “Renee, if I can only have you for a short time, I’d rather just die now!!” He was frantic, the small knife hovering inches from his arm’s artery. Scarlet blood trickled down, and Renee was terrified. “Arthur! Don’t do this!!” “I’ll divorce him, I’ll divorce him right now!” The woman who had just been hesitant signed resolutely, then forcefully threw the agreement at my forehead. “Get out!” Blood dripped into my eye. I clutched the agreement as if it were a treasure. I felt no pain, only immense relief. After one last glance at Renee, I left the hospital without looking back. While waiting for a car, I received a call from my parents. They already knew I would be leaving. Though reluctant, they were very supportive. As their familiar words of caution rang out, my eyes welled up uncontrollably. My father’s dying words from my past life echoed involuntarily in my ears. “Adam, after I’m gone, you must take good care of your mother…” At the same time, Mother texted me, saying she was bringing sparerib soup to the factory. “Adam, as long as our family is together, even if the sky falls, it’s not a big deal.” In my past life, before I died, I visited Mother at the nursing home. She held my hand, her expression dazed. “Adam, the sparerib soup is ready. Remember to take it to your father.” “He loves that the most, you know.” In this life, I wanted nothing. Only for my parents to be safe and healthy. The call ended, and I took a deep breath. Just then, the car picking me up arrived. As I prepared to step forward, a sharp pain shot through my back. Then, I lost consciousness. 4 When I woke, I was lying face down on an operating table. Renee and the doctor’s conversation chilled my heart, inch by inch. “Ms. Vance, skin graft surgery without anesthetic is no different from torture. Perhaps…” “I said no anesthetic means no anesthetic. Pain will teach him a lesson, so he won’t intentionally provoke Arthur again.” “Hurry up with the surgery. Arthur hates scars on his body the most.” I wanted to struggle, but my body felt paralyzed. The cold scalpel sliced across my back, the distinct pain piercing my very bones. The air was thick with the smell of blood, making me nauseous several times. More than once, the pain was so intense I blacked out. When I next awoke, I was in a hospital bed, my back burning with fiery pain. Renee sat by the bed, her fingertip pausing at the corner of my eye, her gaze complex. “Was it that painful? You were crying even in your coma.” My eyes were like stagnant water. “Don’t touch me.” Renee, unusually, wasn’t angry, her tone confident. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s just a divorce for a year. Are you really that dependent on me?” Before I could speak, an assistant appeared at the door. “Ms. Vance, Mr. Maxwell is awake.” The woman rose and left without hesitation. I calmly pulled out my phone. The latest message was from my project team leader. [Adam, the car picking you up is at the hospital entrance. Why haven’t you come down?] I immediately replied. [Teacher, I’ll be right down.] I changed my clothes and resolutely left. But as I went downstairs, I saw the one person I least wanted to see. Arthur had shed his previous erratic behavior, his eyes now full of scorn. I ignored him, wanting only to leave quickly. As we brushed past each other, the man scoffed. “A defeated opponent, nothing more.” My fists immediately clenched. “What did you say?” Arthur became even more arrogant. “I said, I’m seeing a useless man like you for the first time!” “I really don’t know what Renee ever saw in you. Do you even deserve to marry such a wonderful woman as Renee?” “You don’t know yet, do you? You and Renee actually had a child once.” I froze, Arthur’s wild voice piercing my eardrums again and again, leaving them raw and bleeding. “But she promised me that her first child could only be mine, so she quietly aborted that child.” “I told her to tell you she was just tired from work, that her face looked bad, and you actually believed her, even massaging her and washing her feet every night.” “How pathetic are you?” “I heard your dad has a weak heart. What if I send him those photos and videos of Renee and me? Would he die of anger?” Arthur shook his phone, utterly pleased with himself. My rage completely ignited. I grabbed his arm and slammed it hard against the wall. “You’re looking for death!” Arthur looked up, pouting. “Coward, go ahead and hit me if you dare!” Hatred surged through my chest, no longer containable. I raised my fist, just about to strike. From the end of the corridor, Renee’s scream echoed. “Adam Reynolds, stop it!!” Bodyguards rushed over, one seizing the fresh wound on my back. I gasped sharply and fell directly to the ground. Arthur cradled his bleeding arm, whining. “Renee, I just came to tell Adam to stop bothering you, but he suddenly hit me.” “He even threatened me, saying if I tried to seduce you again, he’d kill me!” I struggled to lift my head, looking at Renee’s utterly disgusted face, and roared. “Renee, don’t listen to his nonsense! I didn’t!” The woman’s gaze turned cold as she looked at the bodyguards. “Hit him! Keep hitting him until he breaks!” Countless fists rained down on me like meteors. The wound on my back quickly reopened, blood soaking through my shirt. I curled up on the ground, my internal organs feeling displaced, my mouth full of blood. After an unknown period, Renee finally called for a stop. Just as I thought she had relented, she raised her high heel and savagely ground it into my right hand. “Just now, you used this hand to hurt Arthur, didn’t you?” “Break this hand!” A bodyguard grabbed my right arm and, with effortless force, bent it downward. The crisp snap of bone traveled along my marrow to my heart. It sounded precisely like the discordant notes that fell when Renee taught me to play the piano years ago. “Adam, this is my favorite piece. When you learn it, will you play it for me?” Now, the music had ended. And we, too, should part ways. “Arthur! Wake up, don’t scare me!” “Call a doctor, quickly!” I lifted my bloodied face, watching Renee’s retreating back. All love and hate transformed into smoke, completely dispersing. I stood up, unable to tend to my broken right hand, and limped out of the hospital. After getting into the car, I snapped my phone’s SIM card and tossed it out the window. The car drove north, never stopping again.

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My grandfather was the richest man in the nation of A, and I was his only grandson. Yet, my two elder sisters allowed their shared lover to impersonate me. Just before the grand centennial celebration of the corporation was to begin, Marcus Thorne quickly took the seat reserved for the heir of the enterprise. He then put on an act for me. “Oh, if only my sisters hadn’t insisted I bring you along to see the world, a poor student like you would never step foot inside the Zenith Group’s doors.” “Remember to be smart later. Don’t cause any trouble for me, or my sisters will beat you to a pulp.” In my past life, threatened by my sisters, I was timid and weak, always tolerating Marcus. But now, I had been reborn. Watching Marcus, who was still spouting nonsense, I directly kicked him, sending him flying three feet away. “What are you? A kept man dares to lecture me!” 1 My audacious actions immediately drew everyone’s attention. My elder sister rushed over, her face etched with concern, cradling Marcus in her arms. My second sister raised her hand and slapped me twice. Seeing their beloved kept man, whom they had pampered for years, sent flying by my kick, both sisters were utterly distraught. They simultaneously glared at me, seething. “Ethan Caldwell, you must have a death wish, daring to lay a hand on our little brother!” Looking at my two aggressive sisters, I realized how foolish I had been in the past to ever fantasize about them having sisterly affection for me. I pointed at Marcus, who was still being cradled by them, and scoffed loudly. “He’s just a kept plaything you both secretly fund. Am I, the legitimate heir of this corporation, the grandson of the richest man, not entitled to hit him?” Hearing my words, my elder sister instantly bristled with anger and shoved me backward to the floor. “Ethan Caldwell, Marcus generously helped you with your schooling, yet you’re here spewing nonsense.” “Everyone here, listen clearly: Marcus is my grandfather’s true grandson, the eldest son of the Zenith Group.” I looked at my elder sister in disbelief. “He’s my grandfather’s true grandson? The eldest son of the Zenith Group?” “Sister, how can you say such things? Your audacity truly knows no bounds!” My second sister’s eyes darted, and she looked at me with disdain. “Ethan Caldwell, did you forget to take your medication today? Are you having an episode?” Marcus, meanwhile, began to sob theatrically. “It’s all my fault. I knew Ethan had a mental illness, but I still brought him here.” Their distorted conversation, twisting truth into lies, was heard clearly by everyone in the grand hall. In an instant, everyone around me looked at me with scorn. “So Ethan Caldwell is just a poor student sponsored by the young master, no wonder he’s dressed so shabbily.” “The young master is truly naive and kind, to sponsor someone with a troubled mind and ill intentions like that.” Immediately, my elder sister called for Mr. Davies, the corporation’s assistant. “You and your men throw Ethan Caldwell out. He’s not allowed to step foot in the corporation’s doors again without my permission.” I looked at the corporate assistant, Mr. Davies, as he approached me with security guards. “Mr. Davies, you’ve been with my mother for so long. How can you not recognize the true heir of the corporation?” Mr. Davies immediately stopped, frozen in place. “I… I…” My second sister shot him an annoyed glare. “Mr. Davies, my elder sister is the future successor of the corporation. Are you defying her orders now? Do you want to pack your bags and leave?” Mr. Davies instantly turned pale with fright. He looked at me uneasily. “Young Master, I have elderly parents and young children, and I rely on this job to support my family. Please don’t make things difficult for me. Please come with me.” With that, Mr. Davies signaled the security guards to quickly drag me away. Looking at the several people closing in on me, I grabbed a vase from the table and threw it forcefully. “Not only am I the true heir of the Zenith Group, I am its sole successor! Try laying a hand on me!” The shattering of the vase and my furious roar echoed through the entire banquet hall. Hearing this, everyone around me scoffed. “It seems he’s quite unwell. First he impersonates the richest man’s grandson, now he claims to be the corporation’s successor. It’s utterly laughable.” “Exactly. Even if he were the richest man’s true grandson, it wouldn’t be his turn, a mere young master, to inherit the corporation. After all, he has two elder sisters ahead of him.” Looking at my two sisters, still so arrogant, I challenged them directly. “Elder sister, are you certain you and our second sister have any claim to inheritance?” My second sister’s eyes flickered, but she quickly regained her composure. She tugged at my elder sister’s sleeve. “Elder sister, today is a joyous occasion. Our family elders will be arriving soon. Perhaps it’s better to just let it go.” Seeing my second sister’s reaction, I knew she was recalling her origins and starting to feel apprehensive. After all, my grandfather, the nation’s wealthiest man, had only one son – my father. After my father’s passing, I was his only true grandson. My two elder sisters were merely the orphaned daughters of my father’s sister. After their parents passed away, my father, unable to bear seeing his nieces suffer outside, brought them back to the Caldwell family. Therefore, they had no blood relation to my father or grandfather and absolutely could not inherit the Zenith Group, which my biological grandfather had founded. But my elder sister disregarded my words, instead frowning and glaring at my second sister. “She just laid a hand on Marcus. Can you really stand to see Marcus suffer such an injustice?” “Ethan Caldwell, it seems your condition has worsened. Perhaps we should just have the assistant send you to a mental institution for treatment?” Hearing the words “mental institution,” my chest instantly filled with consuming hatred. I remembered the agony of being bled and flayed by Marcus in the mental institution in my previous life. Yes, in the last life, my elder sister and second sister, desperate to win Marcus’s genuine affection, both conspired to calculate and harm me. Marcus was a medical student, and he harbored a lifelong desire: to personally observe the structural differences between living and dead human bodies. When my two sisters learned of this, they collaborated with Marcus to dissect me alive. Despite growing up with my sisters, living together in the Caldwell home for eighteen years, they, to please Marcus, not only allowed him to impersonate me but also constantly devised ways to help him torment me. Now, I understood. In my sisters’ eyes, kinship was trivial; only love was the most important thing in their hearts. But I was now curious: when love and power were placed side by side, how would my two sisters choose? Thinking of this, I let out a cold laugh. “I’m asking you one last time: who is the true heir and eldest son of the Zenith Group?” Before my two sisters could speak, Charles Harrington, the son of a partner company under the Zenith Group, rushed forward and punched me. “This is outrageous! You, a mere sponsored student, dare to cause trouble here at the Zenith Group? Don’t you know your place?” I knew Charles Harrington. He secretly admired my elder sister and constantly fantasized about marrying her to become the future chairman’s husband of the corporation. Ever since he heard that Marcus was the richest man’s grandson and the eldest son of Zenith Group, he had spent the last two months flattering Marcus and running errands for him. He wanted to establish a good relationship with his future brother-in-law early on and leave the impression of a devoted husband in my elder sister’s mind. Unfortunately, he had curried favor with the wrong person. Marcus was not only not the eldest son of the Zenith Group, but also his rival in love – my elder sister’s kept lover for years. I wasn’t about to take Charles’s punch for nothing, so I kicked him hard in the abdomen. “What are you? The son of a third-rate company president dares to strike me! With just one word from me, your family will be bankrupt immediately.” Charles clutched his stomach in pain, looking at me in disbelief. “Ethan Caldwell, you actually dared to kick me! My father and mother have never even scolded me, let alone hit me!” “You just wait, I won’t let you off the hook.” Marcus remorsefully took Charles’s hand. “Charles, don’t bother with him. He’s not right in the head. I apologize on his behalf.” I looked at Marcus with disdain and sneered. “I think you’re the one who’s crazy. Why play the role of a kept man when you could be something decent, instead of running to such an important event impersonating the heir of the corporation?” I turned to my two sisters, pointed at the door, and said coldly. “Ugh, since my sisters insist on playing dress-up games with their lover, then take your kept boytoy and get out of my corporation!” My two sisters glared at me, their faces ashen. “Ethan Caldwell, let me tell you, we hold real power in this corporation, while you’re still a student. You’re the one who needs to leave!” “What’s going on? Why are you all standing here instead of taking your seats?” A dignified, exceptional middle-aged woman squeezed through the crowd. She was Victoria Vance, the CEO of Zenith Group, and my biological mother. But she hurried to Marcus, raising a hand to wipe away his tears. “Marcus, don’t cry~ Who bullied you?” “Tell me quickly, and I’ll get revenge for you right now!” My elder sister angrily pointed at me: “Who else but that arrogant scoundrel Ethan Caldwell would dare to bully Marcus right under my nose?” My mother, hearing this, slapped me with displeasure. “Ethan Caldwell, I truly gave you too much leeway. How dare you act like a bully, picking on Marcus.” “Now, kneel and apologize to Marcus immediately, or else you won’t see any allowance for the next year.” Looking at my mother, who blamed me without discerning right from wrong, my eyes were filled with disappointment. Indeed, Mother was just as she had been in my previous life, irrationally doting on Marcus with my two sisters. Although I had already anticipated it, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. I used to wonder why, when I was clearly her son, and Marcus was merely a plaything for my two sisters, Mother became obsessed with him the moment she met him. Especially after learning that both sisters had kept Marcus as their lover, Mother flew into a rage, whipping both of them for an entire day and night. At the time, seeing my sisters being beaten, I even ran to persuade Mother, defending them. But I was accidentally struck twice by Mother’s whip, and those two scars are still on my arm to this day. After that, Mother not only forbade my two sisters from continuing to keep Marcus, but she also pulled strings to send Marcus to the best university in Nation A. More importantly, Mother also declared to my two sisters that if they truly liked Marcus, they should compete fairly and try their best to bring him into the family as a son-in-law. And the one who successfully won Marcus would be the inheritor of Mother’s wealth. In my past life, Mother’s unusually behavior made me extremely curious, so I secretly investigated Marcus’s background. Later, I learned that Marcus was actually the son of Mother’s first love. Marcus resembled his father very much. Mother recognized him the first time she saw him. The destructive power of a deceased first love was truly potent; a similar face could firmly capture my mother’s heart. It was truly a pity for my father, who died without ever knowing that Mother harbored another man in her heart. Thinking of this, I looked at my mother with a mocking expression. “I will not apologize!” “However, since my two sisters claim Marcus is their brother, the eldest son of the Zenith Group, doesn’t Mother have anything to explain to everyone?” Hearing this, Marcus immediately looked at my mother with a wronged expression, knowing that my mother was most afraid of him crying. Sure enough, seeing Marcus’s face turn pale from crying, Mother immediately slapped me twice again. “Explain what? They’re right. Marcus is my good son, the eldest son of the Zenith Group.” Looking at my mother, who was lying through her teeth, I roared at her directly. “Victoria Vance, how can you do this to my deceased father? Do you dare to say those words again with a clear conscience?” Mother ignored my words and turned to my two sisters. “Go and throw out this trash who bullied your brother.” Looking at my cold and heartless mother, my heart was a mix of emotions. Heh, this was the woman my father loved his entire life? This was the biological mother I had admired for eighteen years since childhood? I thought my father, before his death, never would have anticipated that after he passed, the two daughters he kindly adopted would harm his beloved son for the sake of a lover. And his own wife would not only fail to protect their biological son but would also drive him out of the house for the child of her first love. At this moment, I truly felt sorrow for myself and for my deceased father.

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It was my pregnancy that had Elias Stone’s blue-blooded family heir in a fit of pique this time. When I returned alone from my doctor’s appointment, his gaze, usually fixed on financial reports, didn’t even lift. “I have no immediate plans for children. My assistant has scheduled your procedure for next week.” That evening, I packed a bag and left. But his rival, Dean Holloway, found me, offering to help me fake my death to escape. The condition was the Rosewood Estate, which belonged to me. The day I was supposed to leave, I accidentally overheard their conversation. “If you want to marry Scarlett back home, why not just divorce? Why go through this whole charade of faking her death to get rid of her?” “A divorce and remarriage would brand Scarlett a homewrecker. A widower remarrying minimizes the harm to her.” “Then why do you want her Rosewood Estate? Aren’t you allergic to roses?” Elias gave a faint smile. “Scarlett likes them.” … Dean Holloway probably didn’t expect me to arrive two hours early at our meeting point. In two hours, I would be boarding his private helicopter to leave. But right now, hiding behind a concrete pillar, I gripped my hands so tightly they trembled uncontrollably. “Once you take her abroad, find someone to look after her until the baby is born. This card is my compensation for her.” Elias said, his tone utterly dismissive. Then came a scoff. “You’re kidding, right, Stone? You want me to look after your wife and child? Aren’t you worried I’ll ‘look after’ them into my bed?” Elias seemed to freeze for a moment. Their eyes met, then he calmly shifted his gaze, lighting a cigarette. “I thought you preferred the big-chested, empty-headed type, Holloway? She’s not your style.” “Sometimes you just want a change of pace. And honestly, Eleanor Leigh is quite pretty.” After a brief silence, Elias nonchalantly flicked his cigarette ash. “Suit yourself.” Dean laughed heartily. “Relax, I’m just kidding. That mousy, domestic type like Eleanor, she’s not really my thing. Besides, if it weren’t for Scarlett, I wouldn’t lift a finger for you, not even if you offered me another twenty percent of the profits.” Elias shot him a cold, sharp glance. “Scarlett is your pet name for her?” I first saw Scarlett Lindell at a Stone family dinner. At the time, she was Elias’s nephew’s girlfriend. Fair-skinned and beautiful, in a red slip dress. Bold enough to corner Elias in the dim hallway of the old mansion. “Uncle, your nephew cheated on me. I’ve decided to teach him a lesson.” She smiled, cunning and bright, then pulled his tie and kissed him. That day, Elias pushed her away. He was a man of great restraint. In our five years of marriage, countless women had tried to get into his bed. From innocent interns to glamorous actresses, he never once crossed the line. But Scarlett became his sole exception. On the day we were supposed to fulfill our marital duties, Elias didn’t come home. I huddled in the cold sheets, waiting for a long time. Overcome with sleepiness, I finally called him. After a long ringing, it connected. The hot, ambiguous sounds made me realize the call had been accidentally answered. Then I heard a low murmur, accompanied by a muffled groan. “Scarlett, this is how you teach him a lesson…” “Scream for me. I want to hear it.” His voice was hoarse, unable to contain his passion. I froze, shaking as I dropped my phone. It was then I realized that my usually composed and reserved husband could lose control like this. Dean Holloway’s teasing voice piped up again. “I heard Eleanor Leigh’s Rosewood Estate was her mother’s inheritance. Taking that from her feels a bit cruel, doesn’t it?” “Take? Wasn’t it her choice to use it as collateral for the deal?” “To have a child or to keep her inheritance, I gave her a choice.” Elias slowly stubbed out his cigarette. Hearing those words, I actually laughed. Yes, from childhood, I had always been making choices. Tired of being confined and starved in the bathroom by my stepmother, I chose to be obedient, to call her ‘Mom,’ and to silently endure her furious slaps when she was upset. Afraid of one day being drugged and assaulted by my stepbrother, I chose to agree to the marriage alliance with the Stones, to marry a man whose marital duties were even outlined in a prenuptial agreement. Fearful that Elias would truly force me to have an abortion, I chose to use the only memento my mother left me to exchange for Dean’s help to escape. Because I didn’t want to die, I fought desperately to live. If that’s what you call a choice. Then fine. From now on, I won’t fight anymore. I laughed, wiping away the tears streaming down my face. If they didn’t want me to live. Then we could all go down together. I pretended to know nothing and successfully left the country as planned. At the same time, the news broke that Eleanor Leigh, wife of Elias Stone, CEO of Stone Enterprises, had tragically died in a fire. Dean, as agreed, prepared a secluded villa in the countryside and a new identity for me. And the first thing I did after settling in was get a medical abortion. I had wanted that child once. But now, I didn’t want it at all. Lying on the cold hospital bed. I could distinctly feel the undeveloped embryo detaching from my body. Back at the villa, I lay in a daze for several days. When Dean came, he found me crying in bed. He didn’t know I’d had an abortion. Seeing me so distraught, he frowned and asked, “You still can’t let go of Elias? You love him that much?” Elias and I were in an arranged marriage. If Stone Enterprises hadn’t been facing a cash flow crisis, my nouveau riche father would never have had the chance to secure a marriage alliance with a family like the Stones. Our first meeting was the day before we officially registered our marriage. Compared to my nervousness, he was elegantly composed, calmly handing his assistant a thick prenuptial agreement to pass to me. “Ms. Leigh, if you have any questions, we can discuss them.” I once only saw marriage as an escape from the Leigh family. Later, I gradually thought that if Elias was the one I’d spend my life with, it might not be so bad. He would prepare unique gifts for every holiday and anniversary. He would take me to every important event, smiling as he introduced me to everyone: “This is my wife.” And in bed, when he sensed my nervousness, he would whisper hoarsely in my ear: “Tell me if it hurts.” How could I not have loved him? My stifled sobs grew louder, and Dean, perhaps impatient, snatched away my blanket, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Eleanor Leigh, why don’t you just come with me instead?” I hadn’t told him I was crying because of the pain. I gave him a cold glance. “What nonsense are you talking about?” He suddenly leaned closer, a hint of seductive charm flickering in his deep-set eyes, which usually held a playful, dog-like affection. “I’m not joking, princess.” I stiffened slightly, clutching the bedsheet, unsure what to do. He seemed pleased with my reaction. He ruffled my hair like a puppy, raising an eyebrow with a roguish smile. “Mind if I use your shower?” When the sound of water began in the bathroom, relying on my last stolen glance, I opened Dean’s phone. That red rose icon was all too familiar. Scarlett. [Eleanor Leigh would totally lose it if she knew Elias was celebrating my birthday at her Rosewood Estate, wouldn’t she?] [You need to propose to her on my birthday, then dump her the next day. Don’t forget to record it!] [I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes she’s been played by both you and Elias!] Dean replied with a face-palm emoji. [Alright, little princess, you’re the expert at this game.] Scarlett loved playing games to watch me squirm. She knew I had discovered their affair. So, when she was in bed with Elias, she would ‘accidentally’ call me from his phone. When I accompanied Elias to important events, she would always call, making him abandon me. Even on my birthday, she dressed as a sweet maid delivering a cake and, when my back was turned, hooked Elias into a kiss. Perhaps my reactions were never quite satisfying enough for her. So this time, she wanted to play a bigger game. I took photos, then put Dean’s phone back. Since they enjoyed playing these games, I would play along to the very end. I spent an entire night figuring out Dean and Scarlett’s relationship. They were both trust fund kids, childhood sweethearts who’d even had a childhood engagement. But Scarlett didn’t like spoilt heirs like Dean; she preferred the thrill of bringing down a reserved man like Elias. And Dean, the kind of playboy who adored being a lapdog to a princess, seemed outwardly flirtatious but was deeply starved for affection. The most direct way to win over such a man was to care for him, look after him, and mother him. In the days that followed, Dean used every trick he had for chasing women on me. It was an endless parade of clothes, handbags, expensive jewelry, and armfuls of roses. Oh, and spontaneous fireworks displays. He sent gifts for seven straight days, and I ignored him every time. Finally, the spoiled prince couldn’t take it anymore. Drrunkenly, he arrived at my house. Pushing open the door, he saw the piles of unopened gifts and let out a frustrated laugh. He shoved me against the wall, gritting his teeth. “Eleanor Leigh, are you really that hard to get?” I asked him, “Are you hungry?” Dean froze. Those eyes, always filled with playful mockery, were now clear as a golden retriever’s. He nodded stiffly. I made him a bowl of noodles and sat opposite him, watching him eat with gusto. He looked at me self-consciously. “Why are you staring at me?” I smiled bitterly. “Elias used to only eat a few bites. He never ate with such enjoyment, like you.” He paused, then asked, feigning indifference, “You often cooked for Elias?” I nodded. “He had a sensitive stomach, so I learned some recipes for digestive health.” I was lying. With four maids in the house, I never had to cook. He fell silent, burying his face in his noodles. In the following days, Dean clung to me, demanding I cook him various dishes, and pressing me about whether Elias had ever eaten them. I played video games with him, watched him race, and listened to him recount his teenage angst. When he feigned indifference, I calmly described my life after my mother’s death. The way he looked at me grew increasingly strange. Finally, one day, as I was washing dishes, he suddenly hugged me from behind. “Eleanor Leigh, have you thought about my offer from last time?” His chin rested on my neck, sweet and with a hint of cautious anticipation. I didn’t speak. In the quiet kitchen, only our increasingly heavy breathing filled the air. Just then, his phone rang. It was Elias’s voice coming through the receiver. “How… how has she been lately?” It seemed he sensed my body stiffen. Dean spun me around, forcing me to face him. His deep eyes stared intently at me, a half-smile playing on his lips. “She’s fine.” Elias was silent for a few seconds, then asked, “And the child?” My eyes slowly welled up with tears. Dean’s face darkened. He abruptly gripped my chin and kissed me fiercely. He casually knocked the phone onto the counter. He held the back of my head, kissing me until I could barely breathe. “Dean Holloway!” I cried out his name. But he just curved his lips, rubbing his nose against mine, his voice hoarse. “Say it again.” On the other end of the line. Elias’s hand, holding the phone, froze. Behind his glasses, his pupils abruptly constricted. I pushed Dean away, panting, and ran upstairs. He chased after me, grabbing my arm. “Eleanor Leigh, can’t you just look at me?” I looked at him. “Why?” He gritted his teeth in frustration. “You don’t know why? Fine, I’ll tell you. Because I’m crazy about you!” I didn’t know how much of Dean’s sincerity was real and how much was pretense at that moment. It didn’t matter. What mattered most was that I knew my moment had arrived. “You like me?” I scoffed, a cold laugh escaping. “Alright, then give me back my Rosewood Estate.” Dean hesitated for a few seconds. I pulled my hand away from him. “Mr. Holloway, please let me go. I truly can’t risk giving my heart away to the wrong person again.” He grabbed me tightly, pulling me into his arms. “Is it true? If I give it back to you, you’ll believe I’m serious?” Whether Dean was genuinely swayed by my acting these past few days, or merely feigning affection to draw me into his trap, he eventually returned the property transfer deed I had signed. But as he handed it back, he probed, “Are you taking the Rosewood Estate back because you want to return?” I shook my head calmly. “No. Eleanor Leigh is dead.” She died in the deception they wove together. Dean and I started dating, just like a normal couple. He was incredibly clingy. After we started dating, he stopped going to bars, races, or clubs. We walked hand-in-hand along the river, and kissed on the sofa while watching movies. Every time, by the end, he’d be panting, his head on my lap, stroking my lower belly and whining, “When will it be three months?” He didn’t know I was utterly alone. Our romantic game would only last until the day he and Scarlett had planned. That day, Dean was bothering me as usual, his hand trying to slip under my clothes, when his phone rang. He impatiently reached to turn it off but paused when he saw the name on the screen. “Uh… babe, my buddy’s calling me at this hour, probably something urgent. I’ll just take this.” His expression was a little unnatural. He was clearly distracted when we went to bed that night. I feigned sleep. He called my name softly a few times. Seeing no reaction, he grabbed his phone and got out of bed. It sounded like he was heading out, but when the door opened, I heard his hushed, surprised voice: “You came all the way here? Are you crazy?” Immediately followed by a petulant, aggrieved voice. “Dean Holloway! Are you scolding me?”

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Alysa Johnson knelt in the pouring rain, her clothes soaked through, outlining curves that shouldn’t have been visible on a sixteen-year-old. Three supercars worth tens of millions were parked around her. “Please, give me back my medication…” The lead boy pressed his foot down on the back of her hand, grinding it into the ground, his laughter excited. “Sleep with me for one night, and I’ll give it to you.” This was the scene I saw when I transmigrated into this novel. As the original character, the vicious stepmother who would trade her stepdaughter to business partners for resources, I figured if I was going to be evil, I’d at least do it with class. I walked over, carrying a golf club I’d just bought, said nothing, and swung it directly at the boy’s kneecap with full force. His scream drowned out the thunder. I pulled up the stunned Alysa and wiped the muddy water from her face. “Remember this. From now on, whoever makes you cry, you make them bleed.” Lila POV The rainstorm hammered against the asphalt like popping corn. The titanium alloy club in my hand was still vibrating with the aftershock of shattering bone. That swing had felt perfect. No resistance, just a crisp “crack,” followed immediately by pig-like squealing. Ethan curled up in the muddy water like a cooked shrimp, clutching his knee, screaming until his voice cracked. The rich kids around him who’d just been filming with their phones and egging him on instantly went silent, like chickens with their necks wrung. They stared at me wide-eyed, not one of them daring to help him up. After all, none of them had ever seen anything like this. In their world, wealthy socialites maintained composure. Even when angry, they’d elegantly throw a check or splash some wine. Who the hell just swung a metal golf club and crippled someone’s leg? I wiped the rain from my face and looked down at Alysa, still kneeling on the ground. The kid was terrified. Those eyes described in the novel as “dewy like a fawn’s” now held only fear, her whole body trembling like a sieve. She looked at me, then at Ethan writhing on the ground, her lips quivering, unable to form a complete sentence. “What are you spacing out for?” I planted the club on the ground with a sharp clang, making those spoiled heirs collectively take a step back. “His leg’s broken, not yours. Stand up.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the storm with piercing clarity. Alysa instinctively tried to push herself up, but her hands were covered in bloody marks from where Ethan had stepped on them. The moment she applied pressure, pain shot through her and her knees buckled again. I didn’t help her. I just watched coldly. If she didn’t even have the strength to stand up, saving her this once would be pointless. This damned plot inertia would eventually push her back into the mud as a plaything. Alysa seemed to sense my coldness. She bit her lip, tears mixing with rainwater streaming down her face, but she didn’t make a sound. Using her elbows, she shakily pulled herself up. Good. Though pathetic, at least her spine was still straight. I bent down and picked up the crushed asthma inhaler from beside Ethan’s still-twitching hand. Filthy, covered in mud and sand. I wiped it on Ethan’s custom suit worth hundreds of thousands until it was clean, then turned around, grabbed Alysa’s chin, forced her mouth open, shoved the inhaler in, and pressed it twice. The medication entered her throat, and Alysa’s rapid wheezing finally began to settle. “Thank… thank you.” Her voice was barely audible, still trembling. “Don’t thank me.” I released her and turned to look at the group of rich kids who’d retreated to their cars, my gaze finally settling on Ethan, still wailing on the ground. “Mr. Hayes, how does it feel?” Ethan’s face was covered in cold sweat, his features twisted in pain, glaring at me viciously. “Lila… you crazy bitch! You dare hit me! My family won’t let this go! I’ll kill you! I’ll destroy your whole family.” “Alright, save your energy.” I cut off his impotent rage, playing with the club in my hand as I approached step by step. The bodyguards finally snapped out of it and tried to rush forward. I raised the club directly at Ethan’s other leg. “Anyone moves, I’ll put him in a wheelchair for life. Symmetrically broken.” The bodyguards froze. Everyone could see I really would do it. I crouched down, the cold club head tapping Ethan’s pale face. “I know who your father is. I know the Hayes family runs this city. But Ethan, did you forget? Those with nothing to lose don’t fear those with everything. Crazy people don’t fear idiots.” I lowered my voice to a volume only he could hear. “That illegal offshore account your dad has, and those twin illegitimate children he’s keeping in the western suburbs. Mrs. Hayes doesn’t know about them yet, does she? Tell me, if I sent all that information to her email, do you think she’d come after me first, or your dad?” Ethan’s eyes widened in shock. He stared at me in disbelief, even forgetting his pain. This was the perk of transmigrating into this novel. My head was full of every wealthy family’s dirty secrets. “Looks like you’re not stupid. You understand.” I stood up, looking down at him. “Today’s lesson was about being human. Did you learn it?” Ethan gritted his teeth. Though hatred remained in his eyes, fear dominated. I laughed derisively, turned around, opened the car door, and shoved the still-dazed Alysa into the passenger seat. “Get in.” Even after my taillights disappeared into the rain, none of them dared move. The car’s heat was on full blast. Alysa huddled in the leather seat, gripping the seatbelt tightly, staring blankly ahead. I glanced at her and tossed a towel from the glove compartment. “Dry off.” She mechanically took the towel, drying her hair, then suddenly asked quietly. “They’ll come after us, won’t they?” The kid wasn’t stupid. In this world’s setting, the four major families were gods. Laws meant nothing to them. Ethan’s broken leg. The Hayes family would never let it go. “Scared?” I steered with one hand and lit a cigarette. The original character didn’t smoke, but I needed nicotine to suppress the adrenaline spike from earlier. “I’m… I’m not scared for myself.” Alysa lowered her head, looking at her swollen hands. “But I’m scared of dragging Dad down, and… dragging you down.” Even in this household where the original character had treated her badly-even cruelly-this kid still worried about implicating others. This was the terminal illness of abuse novel heroines: kindness bordering on weakness, consideration that made you furious. “Dragging me down?” I exhaled a smoke ring and laughed coldly. “Alysa, listen carefully. In this world, besides yourself, no one can drag you down. As for revenge…” I looked in the rearview mirror at the headlights flickering in the rainy night and smiled. “Let them come. If I dared break his leg, I’m prepared to tear a hole in the sky. Starting today, this show has a new director.”

Lila POV Early the next morning, the Lin family mansion’s gate was blocked. The show of force was substantial. Three black Rolls-Royces completely blocked the entrance. Over a dozen black-suited bodyguards emerged, surrounding a middle-aged couple. The man’s face was dark, the woman dripping with jewels and looking sharp and mean. They were Ethan’s parents, Marcus Hayes and Vivian. Behind them followed four elite lawyers carrying briefcases. This wasn’t about negotiating compensation. This was about causing trouble. My convenient husband James Johnson was currently circling the living room like an idiot, sweating profusely in panic. “Lila! Look what you’ve done!” James pointed at me sitting leisurely on the sofa drinking coffee, his finger trembling. “That’s the Hayes family! Ethan Hayes! And you dared break his leg! Are you trying to destroy our whole family? Now they’ve come knocking with a whole legal team. They’re going to put us in prison forever!” Alysa huddled at the stair landing in her pajamas, face pale, eyes red. She wanted to come down but didn’t dare, just gripping the railing tightly. I set down my coffee cup and looked at James with disgust. This was the scumbag father from the original novel, the epitome of selling his daughter for advancement. When trouble came, all he did was shift blame and beg for mercy. No backbone whatsoever. “Panicking about what?” I stood up, straightened my silk robe, and walked unhurriedly to the entrance, opening the door. Outside, Vivian saw me and immediately rushed forward, raising her hand to slap me. “You bitch! You dare hit my son! I’ll tear your face off today!” If this were the original Lila, she would’ve taken the slap. Or knelt and begged for mercy. But I wasn’t her. I raised my hand and precisely caught her wrist, applying slight pressure and twisting. “Let go! You crazy bitch!” Vivian screamed in pain, her delicate makeup contorting. Marcus said coldly, his face dark. “Let go! Lila, are you going to assault someone again? Believe it or not, I’ll have the police arrest you right now!” I released Vivian’s hand and wiped mine with a wet wipe in disgust. “Arrest me? On what grounds? Because your son committed school bullying, or because you want to break into private property?” “What nonsense are you spouting!” Marcus’s face turned iron with rage. “You deliberately injured someone! My son is still in the hospital with a comminuted fracture! We have surveillance footage. Can you deny it?” “Surveillance footage…” I smiled, turned back to the living room, and picked up the remote from the coffee table. “Perfect. I also have some videos I’d like you both to enjoy.” The massive projection screen in the living room slowly descended. I pressed play. What appeared on screen wasn’t last night’s rainy scene, but various angles and scenarios. Ethan forcing a classmate to drink urine in the bathroom. Ethan cutting a girl’s hair and sticking gum in it. Ethan and his gang locking Alysa in the equipment room and releasing dogs on her. And last night, the complete high-definition footage of him stepping on Alysa’s hand, forcing her to agree to sleep with him. Even with sound. “Beg! Who do you think you are acting pure! Your mother was a whore, and you’re just a little slut!” The voice echoed through the spacious mansion hall, particularly jarring. James froze. Marcus and Vivian froze too. They hadn’t expected me to have these. I’d bought all of these last night at high prices from those lackeys. Those rich kids were scum, but they loved money more, and had no loyalty. Give them enough cash and they’d sell out their own fathers, let alone Ethan. “I’ve made dozens of backup copies of these videos.” I leaned against the sofa back, looking at the Hayes couple’s pale faces. “If I go to the police station, or if the Johnson family goes bankrupt, these videos will immediately appear on every major news website’s homepage, in the Department of Education’s complaint inbox, and in the email boxes of every major shareholder of Hayes Corporation.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Marcus roared. “This is blackmail! Extortion! Even if you release them, it’s useless. I have ways to suppress it!” “Is that so? Mr. Hayes certainly has influence.” I smiled even more brightly. “Then what about this?” I pulled out a document from under the coffee table and casually threw it on the floor, where it slid right to Marcus’s feet. Marcus looked down suspiciously. Just one glance, and his pupils earthquake. It was a record of him embezzling company funds to purchase overseas property, along with the illegitimate child’s birth certificate and DNA test report. Vivian was still shrieking. “Why waste words with her! Just trash this place!” “Shut up!” Marcus whipped around and slapped Vivian across the face. The slap was vicious. Vivian was completely stunned, covering her face and staring at her husband in disbelief. “Why did you slap me?” Marcus ignored her, turning to stare at me intently, cold sweat trickling down his temples. He was a smart man. School bullying could perhaps be suppressed with money and connections. At worst, his reputation would stink a bit. But embezzlement and illegitimate children. Once exposed, his position at Hayes Corporation would be finished, and the Lee family wouldn’t spare him. “Lila,” Marcus’s voice trembled. “What do you want?” James watched from the side, completely dumbfounded, unable to understand how the situation had suddenly reversed. I pointed at Alysa at the stair landing. “First, have your son transfer schools or repeat a grade. I don’t want to see his face at school again.” “Second, compensation for Alysa’s emotional distress. Ten million. Not a penny less.” “Third,” I paused. “Have your son publicly apologize to Alysa over the school’s PA system. I’ll write the content, he’ll read it exactly as written, and it better be heartfelt. If I detect even a hint of insincerity, I’ll consider it breach of contract.” Marcus gritted his teeth. “The first two are fine. The third… could we do it another way? The Hayes family still needs face.” “Face?” I laughed derisively, stood up and walked to him, lowering my voice. “Mr. Hayes, dignity is for people, not for scum. When your son did those things, did he think about others’ dignity?” “Or would you prefer your wife’s family to learn that those twins you’re keeping outside are already in elementary school?” Marcus’s whole body shook. He looked at me like I was a monster. “Fine… I agree.” Marcus forced those three words through clenched teeth. Vivian was still screaming. “Why should we! Are you insane? Apologize to that little bitch? And pay money?” “Take her away!” Marcus completely ignored her tantrum, signaling the bodyguards to drag Vivian out. Not until the Hayes family completely disappeared did James come back to his senses, collapsing onto the sofa and looking at me with awe and… fear. “Honey… where did you get all that stuff?” I ignored him and turned to look at Alysa still standing at the stair landing. She stared at me blankly, tears still clinging to her lashes. I walked over and wiped away her tears. “Did you see clearly?” I pointed toward where the Hayes family had left. “That’s high society. As long as you have them by the throat, they’ll kneel faster than anyone.” “In this house, right now, the person I choose to protect, even Satan can’t take away.”

Lila POV The day Alysa returned to school, the sky was blue and the clouds white, but I knew beneath that calm surface was nothing but filth. Though Ethan had transferred, the mess he left behind remained. The Hayes family’s influence at the school ran deep. The ringleader was gone, but plenty of bootlickers remained. Not to mention the male second lead, Adrian Locke‌. He was student council president, aloof and ascetic, also the enforcer of rules at this elite school. Upon entering the classroom, we discovered Alysa’s desk was missing. Her assigned spot was empty, just a lonely chair lying on the floor. The entire class was silent, dozens of eyes watching us mockingly, like we were monkeys at the zoo. Alysa’s face instantly paled, instinctively reaching for my sleeve. “Oh, if it isn’t that ‘Miss Johnson’ who drove away Mr. Hayes?” A girl spoke sarcastically, twirling her pen. “What, even the desk found you too dirty and threw itself away?” The whole class burst into laughter. Alysa bit her lip and bent down to pick up the chair. “Don’t move.” I grabbed her hand and scanned the classroom. “Who did this?” No one spoke. Everyone was watching the show. Some even pulled out phones to film. Just then, the classroom door opened. A boy wearing gold-rimmed glasses with every button fastened to the top walked in. Adrian. He didn’t even glance at me, walking straight to the podium and saying coldly. “The school is conducting an asset inspection. Damaged public property must be paid for. Miss Alysa’s desk had too much graffiti, seriously affecting the school’s appearance, so the maintenance department has taken it for disposal.” What a sanctimonious excuse. “Until new desk and chair are approved, Miss Johnson can stand and listen to class.” Adrian pushed up his glasses, a trace of barely concealed disgust in his eyes. “It’s also a good time to reflect on why, out of everyone in the entire school, only your desk got graffitied.” Typical victim-blaming. Alysa trembled with anger. “You drew it! It was all… all insults about me!” “Do you have proof?” Adrian asked coolly. Alysa was speechless, tears welling up in her eyes. I laughed. This little bastard, looking all proper, but more rotten than anyone. “Reflect?” I released Alysa’s hand and walked up to Adrian. “Adrian, is it? Since you love making people reflect so much, how about everyone reflects together.” I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Come in.” As soon as I spoke, deafening drill and hammer sounds came from the hallway. Then over a dozen construction workers marched in. “What are you doing!” Adrian finally changed expression. “This is a classroom! Who gave you permission to enter!” I ignored him, directly pointing at the desks and chairs in the classroom. “Get to work. Except for the podium, tear down all the desks and chairs.” The workers had already been paid. Their efficiency was extremely high. Before those pampered students could react, drills were whirring, screws flying, desk boards being violently dismantled. “Ah! My limited edition stationery!” “Are you crazy! This is destruction of property!” “Security! Call security!” The classroom descended into chaos. Adrian rushed up to me, furious. “Lila! This is illegal! I’m calling the police!” “Go ahead.” I pulled out a stack of documents and slapped them against his chest. “This is a complaint receipt from the Department of Education, along with relevant legal provisions. And… I’ve already donated ten million to the school board, specifically to improve the learning environment for this class.” I pointed at the desks and chairs being dismantled. “Since this garbage isn’t good enough for our Alysa, none of you should use it either. I’ve ordered top-of-the-line ergonomic chairs and height-adjustable desks for the entire class. Fifty-eight thousand per set.” The class instantly fell silent. Fifty-eight thousand per set? These rich kids had money, but the school’s desks and chairs were just ordinary stuff. The students who’d been cursing moments ago suddenly looked different. “However.” I changed my tone, looking at Adrian’s livid face. “This batch of donations specifically excludes Adrian.” “Since you think standing during class helps with reflection, please stand from now on. After all, as student council president, you should lead by example and reflect more on why you’re so unlikeable.” Adrian trembled with rage, pointing at me. “You… this is discrimination! Isolation!” “Isolation?” I laughed coldly, surveying the whole class. “No, I’m just returning the methods you use to isolate others.” “Also,” I walked to Alysa’s side, pulled her to the center of the podium facing everyone. “From now on, if anyone dares draw even one stroke on her desk, I’ll remove everyone’s desks and you can all stand for class. Anyone who doesn’t want to stand, watch the people around you.” Unreasonable, but most effective against these refined egoists. Half an hour later, brand new top-tier desks and chairs were moved into the classroom. Only Adrian’s spot by the podium remained empty. Alysa sat in that expensive chair, touching the smooth desktop, looking up at me with light in her eyes for the first time. “Ma’am…” “Call me Lila.” I patted her shoulder. “Remember this. When do victims need to reflect? Do you think school rules are toilet paper? From now on, whoever tells you to reflect, you make them reflect on their whole family.”

Lila POV Alysa’s “fragile constitution” was a real pain. Even though I wanted to armor her up like an iron warrior, this damned character setting would occasionally rear its head. Like during this week’s PE class. It was just simple jogging warm-ups. Alysa was running along when she suddenly tripped over her own feet on flat ground. With a small cry, she pitched forward. Normally, this kind of fall would at most scrape her knees. But the plot god’s twisted humor kicked in. Rip. Alysa’s supposedly loose athletic shirt actually tore open from the collar. Two buttons flew off somewhere, exposing a large expanse of snow-white skin and the edge of her pink bra underneath. The boys playing basketball nearby instantly swarmed over like sharks smelling blood. “Holy shit! Fan service!” “That skin is so white, it turns red from just a fall?” “If this isn’t seduction, what is?” That seemingly innocent classmate Nathan even pulled out his phone. Alysa lay on the ground, dying of shame, frantically covering her chest, tears about to fall again. This kind of plot full of male gaze and vulgar taste made my blood pressure spike. I wasn’t just watching from the sidelines. I charged onto the field with scissors. I took off my coat and wrapped Alysa up tightly, blocking those lewd stares. “What are you looking at? Never seen cheap clothes before?” I shouted, and those boys dispersed somewhat reluctantly, but their eyes kept drifting toward Alysa. I helped Alysa up, took the scissors without a word, and cut off a piece of her athletic shirt. “Let’s go. To the hospital.” Alysa cried and asked. “Am I really that shameful? Am I… slutty?” This was the brainwashing this damned world had given her. I smacked the back of her head. Not hard, but enough to clear her mind. “Slutty? Are you out of your mind?” I held up the cut fabric piece in front of her eyes. “Look carefully. This fabric isn’t even pure cotton. The synthetic fiber content is over the limit, and the stitching uses the cheapest thread. This school charges hundreds of thousands a year and gives you this garbage to wear?” I dragged her straight to the principal’s office and threw the fabric in the principal’s greasy face. “I’m suing the school’s procurement department for corruption and bribery, and for providing substandard products to minors.” The principal was stunned. “This… Lila, this was just an accident…” “Accident? I’d say it’s attempted murder!” I pointed at Alysa. “This happened on the field. What if it was in the chemistry lab? This kind of flammable synthetic fabric. Are you trying to roast my daughter alive?” My words were extremely harsh, but they genuinely scared the principal. Next, I took Alysa to the best private hospital. Not for the fall injuries, but for orthopedics and endocrinology appointments. “Doctor, please give my daughter a full-body checkup, especially balance function and muscle strength.” I told the doctor. “I suspect she has serious vestibular dysfunction and muscle weakness. Otherwise why would she trip while walking normally?” The full examination cost tens of thousands. When the results came out, the doctor looked at the report and pushed up his glasses. “Well… indeed, core strength is very poor, and cerebellar balance is a bit weak. Also, the skin barrier is damaged. It’s too thin, which makes it prone to redness and swelling.” Alysa held the report, stunned. “So I’m not… naturally slutty?” She asked quietly. “Of course not.” I slapped the report against her chest. “This is called lack of exercise, called sub-health! Understand?” “Those boys said you looked provocative when you fell? That’s because their brains are full of pornographic garbage. In a doctor’s eyes, you’re just a patient who needs rehabilitation training.” Alysa looked at all the professional medical terminology on the report and suddenly smiled. A smile of relief. “Then… Lila, what should I do?” “What should you do?” I laughed coldly. “If the clothes are poor quality, blame the manufacturer. What kind of logic is it to blame yourself for having breasts? This fabric that tears with one pull. Did the school procure it according to lingerie standards?” “As for your body…” I looked her up and down. “Starting tomorrow, Pilates and Muay Thai. Since you can’t stand steady, practice until no one can push you down.” Alysa nodded vigorously, a new determination in her eyes. I hoped she understood that her body wasn’t a pillar of shame for pleasing others, but armor that needed to be fortified.

Lila POV The male third lead, Nathan, had a baby face but a twisted heart. He had a baby face and cute little fangs when he smiled. He was in the same club as Alysa. His favorite thing was using that innocent tone to say the most twisted things. Like putting thumbtacks in Alysa’s dance shoes. That day Alysa came home limping. Her soles were full of bloody holes, socks stuck to the flesh. While treating her wounds, my hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from rage. “Who did this?” Alysa winced in pain but didn’t dare say. “Maybe I was just careless…” “Careless enough to step on over a dozen thumbtacks? Were you practicing iron palm?” I checked the surveillance footage. Sure enough, it was Nathan. He’d been sneaking around the dance studio locker room door. After Alysa changed shoes and came out, he hid in a corner smirking, watching Alysa’s face pale with pain as she forced herself to keep dancing. His expression was like he was appreciating some artwork. This little pervert enjoyed watching people endure pain. Fine. Liked playing these games? The next day I had someone tow away Nathan’s prized limited edition sports car.That was his eighteenth birthday gift, one of only three in the world. The kid treasured it like nothing else. He wouldn’t even let anyone touch it. I had his car towed to an abandoned quarry on the outskirts, parked it right on the cliff’s edge with half a wheel hanging over. Then I filmed a video and posted it directly to his Instagram. I’d gotten his account from Alysa’s phone. In the video, I held a wrench, gesturing at his brake pads. Caption: “I heard you like thrills? This car has a nice view by the cliff. The brake line seems a bit loose though. Want to come up and try it out?” Less than ten minutes later, Nathan’s call came through. “Lila! Are you insane! That’s my favorite car! Do you know how much it costs!” He screamed into the phone, his voice trembling. “How much?” I casually tapped the hood. “Is it worth more than my daughter’s feet?” “You… if you dare touch my car, I’ll kill you!” “Oh my, so scary.” I smiled at the camera, then pointed the phone at the brake caliper and made a cutting motion with a “snip.” “Don’t! Don’t cut it! I was wrong! I was wrong!” Nathan completely broke down on the other end, begging through tears. I laughed coldly. “So you do know pain? I thought twisted people like you had no pain receptors.” That afternoon, Nathan came running to the quarry in tears. When he saw the car was actually intact, just positioned for the shot, he collapsed on the ground, a large wet stain spreading across his pants. He’d literally pissed himself from fear. I leaned against the car door, looking down at this demon who usually acted like a little angel. “Scared yourself into pissing? Where’s your persona?” Nathan’s face turned bright red, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. “A child’s prank?” I crouched down, tapping the unused wrench against his face. “Then you’ll have to endure this adult’s prank too.” “Remember this. Next time you dare put anything in Alysa’s shoes, I won’t just touch your car. I’ll cut your tendons.” “Don’t shake. The game’s just beginning.” I stood up, looking disgustedly at the puddle on the ground. “Go change your pants. The smell is awful.” From then on, Nathan took detours whenever he saw Alysa. The twisted excitement in his eyes was gone, replaced only by deep fear. Watching this scene, though Alysa thought it was a bit excessive, she couldn’t help but giggle when she saw Nathan’s pathetic state. “Lila,” she said quietly. “Turns out when you strip the demon naked, he’s just a little pants-wetter.” I patted her head. “Yes. As long as you’re crazier and more ruthless than them, they’re nothing.”

Lila POV So-called high society galas were really just large-scale human markets. To salvage his crumbling business, James Johnson forced Alysa to attend a business cocktail party. He made it sound nice. “Let you see the world, meet some people.” In reality, he wanted to sell Alysa for a good price. The male fourth lead, Mr. Todd Shaw, a notorious playboy who claimed he never fell for anyone, walked toward Alysa with a wine glass, smiling. “Alysa, long time no see. You’ve gotten even more beautiful.” That drink was drugged. Alysa could smell something wrong. This was also a plot device. Whenever the female lead appeared at such events, she’d inevitably be drugged, then inevitably have some indescribable encounter with the male lead. Alysa felt her body starting to heat up. That was the plot’s forced mechanism taking effect. She looked at me in panic. I was standing by the buffet table eating lobster. Receiving her distress signal, I put down my plate and walked over casually. “Todd, is it?” I inserted myself between them, blocking Shaw’s lewd gaze. “I heard the Shaw family’s stocks have been crashing lately. Still have the mood to go hunting?” Todd frowned. “Who the hell are you? Get lost. I’m talking to Alysa.” “I’m her mother.” I smiled, and while he wasn’t paying attention, with lightning-fast hand speed, I switched the glass he’d handed Alysa with the one in his own hand. This was hand speed I’d developed doing crisis PR. I specialized in dealing with all kinds of troublemakers. “Since Todd is so enthusiastic, I’ll drink this on Alysa’s behalf.” I raised the actually clean glass and clinked it against his now-spiked one. He didn’t suspect anything, just wanted to get rid of this nuisance quickly so he could make his move on Alysa. “Fine, fine. Drink up and get lost.” He tilted his head back and downed it in one gulp. I watched the red liquid slide down his Adam’s apple, my smile deepening. “Alysa, let’s get some air over there.” I pulled Alysa away and left. Less than ten minutes later, the show began. A commotion suddenly erupted in the center of the hall. The previously composed man now had a flushed face and unfocused eyes, frantically tearing at his tie and shirt. “Hot… so hot…” He shouted while hugging a Roman column in the hall’s center like a dog in heat. Then, under the gaze of hundreds of guests, he started performing a striptease. The scene was absolutely eye-searing. “Oh my god! Is that Todd?” “Did he take drugs?” “Quick, film this! This is too wild!” Everyone around was holding up phones taking photos and videos. I pulled Alysa to the second-floor railing and started a livestream on my phone. “This is what they call high society breeding?” I commented coldly. Alysa watched the man making a fool of himself below. Her previous fear evaporated, replaced by disgust and absurdity. “Lila, was that… the drug he prepared for me?” “Yes.” I said flatly. “Since he likes aphrodisiacs so much, let him go perform himself.” “Want to scheme against my daughter? First see if his kidneys can handle it.” Todd’s drug was too potent. Not only did he strip completely naked, he also tried to forcibly kiss the arriving security guards, and finally was carried away in an ambulance foaming at the mouth. I heard that due to excessive cardiac stress, he might not function in that department anymore. This was what you called physical castration. From then on, the entire circle spread tales of Todd’s “heroic deeds,” and his reputation was completely ruined. Alysa watched the viral videos on her phone, looking thoughtful. “So this is real counterattack.” “Don’t dirty your own hands, yet completely destroy the opponent.”

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Everyone thought I’d lost my mind—my husband just died, and I burned down the factory we’d built together. But they didn’t know that a week ago, I caught my supposedly dead husband embracing his first love, smugly plotting: “The marriage certificate between me and that stupid woman is fake. Once I fake my death and she helps me pay off the debts, the factory will still be mine.” I stood behind a tree, my whole body ice-cold, yet I wanted to laugh. Turns out what I’d desperately protected all these years was never really my home. Since he faked his death to escape, dumping all the debts on me, I didn’t mind adding fuel to the fire myself. This blaze would completely “burn” the old me to death, along with his factory, reducing everything to ash. Outside the villa’s ornate iron gate, I saw the man who should have died in the fire. He was carefully supporting Lucy, whose delicate face glowed above a belly swollen with six months of pregnancy. And I could clearly see—the gemstone bracelet on Lucy’s wrist and the gold earrings dangling from her ears were the dowry my parents had specially made for me. Years ago, when I first took over factory management, Harrison had gently persuaded me: “Jewelry gets in the way when you’re working. It’d hurt if you bumped it.” I’d believed him and locked all my jewelry in an iron box, never imagining he’d secretly taken them out and given them to his childhood sweetheart. This was the devoted husband who’d promised to take care of me for life. He tightened his arm around Lucy’s waist, his voice sticky-sweet like melted candy: “Haha, Lucy, don’t worry. The factory’s buried in a million dollars of debt right now. Once that stupid woman fills the hole, Edith will call us right back.” “The factory manager position is mine. Then our little family of three…” Lucy stroked her swollen belly, asking coquettishly: “But Vivian is so capable. After she pays off all the debt by herself, will she really give the factory back to you?” Harrison laughed. “That factory was left to me by my dad. She’s just an ‘outsider’.” “I’ll tell you a secret, but keep it quiet—Vivian and I never actually got our marriage license. My mom had someone forge the certificate years ago. She still has no idea…” I trembled with rage, my teeth grinding audibly. A week ago, when I discovered the missing funds in our accounts, I confronted Harrison. Knowing he was exposed, he knelt and begged for forgiveness, claiming his failed investments were all “for our home.” He grabbed my pant leg, pleading with me to get money from my family to save us. But a million dollars was an astronomical sum. Even draining my parents dry wouldn’t cover it. I refused to drag my family down, but softened at his seemingly remorseful expression and agreed to shoulder the debt together. Now I could see—the moment he realized we’d have to suffer and repay together, he’d already planned this fake death to slip away, leaving me holding the entire mess. This man was utterly vicious. “Vivian, Harrison? He’s not dead?” Grace, my trusted confidant who’d accompanied me, had stopped at the station to get a cup of coffeeand arrived a few steps behind. Seeing this scene, she immediately flared up with anger. “He found a mistress and deliberately wants you to handle the factory’s debts alone.” I quickly pulled her behind a sycamore tree to hide. Grace asked, confused: “Vivian, Harrison wronged you. He’s the one who should be hiding. Why are we hiding?” I’d already calmed down. I looked at Grace and asked: “Grace, all these years, how do you think I’ve treated Harrison?” Though Grace didn’t understand why I was suddenly asking this, she answered honestly: “Vivian, you’ve been incredible for the factory. You handled so many things personally. Without those contracts you negotiated, our factory would have collapsed long ago.” “Harrison… when problems hit the factory, he pretended to be sick and hid. When you were running a fever negotiating contracts, he was drinking at the card table. If you hadn’t mortgaged your own dowry, how could their family property and land still be intact?” I smiled bitterly. “Harrison inherited the family business but couldn’t preserve its foundation. You can see that truth clearly. Too bad he’s willfully blind.” “Vivian, Harrison is living it up in that villa with his mistress while leaving you to shoulder all that debt. You should divorce him.” I laughed coldly. We never even got a marriage license—what divorce? “Does he think I’ll still stupidly exhaust everything to protect the family assets for him like before? Haha…” “Since Harrison chose to fake his death, I’ll grant him his wish.” My lips curved upward, the flames of anger burning away my grief. Since Harrison dared to fake his death and enjoy himself, I could sever our marital bonds just as decisively. In this world, he wasn’t the only one who could fake a death.

“What does Vivian plan to do?” Grace gripped my hand, righteous indignation in her voice. “We absolutely can’t let those cheating dogs get away with this.” I naturally wouldn’t let them off easy, but this matter couldn’t be rushed. “Grace, don’t go back to the factory yet. I need you to spread word about Harrison building a villa in this town to keep his mistress. The more widely it spreads the better—ideally it should reach Edith’s ears today.” Since I was an outsider in Harrison’s mouth, I had no need to preserve the dignity of the old Harrison family. Fight with me? They weren’t qualified. Did Harrison think he could live carefree in that villa with his childhood sweetheart, raising their child? Then I’d reclaim the villa right now, leaving them without even a place to stay. As soon as I returned to the factory, Harrison’s mother, Edith, came looking for me. I secretly took a breath, suppressed my surging anger, and squeezed out a grieved expression to greet her. She grabbed my hand, her voice urgent yet soft: “Vivian, you can’t listen to outsiders’ gossip. Harrison was honest and straightforward—how could he mess around outside?” “He can’t even rest in peace after death.” I lowered my eyes, my nose tingling: “Mrs. Harrison, I naturally trust Harrison’s character… but did our family really buy a villa in the neighboring town?” Edith’s hand suddenly stiffened. She froze there, her eyes darting around rapidly before shaking her head like a rattle drum: “No, no. How could there be? Don’t talk nonsense.” Seeing her reaction, I understood completely. Earlier I’d heard Harrison smugly say that once I finished paying the debts, his mother would call him to “come home and enjoy the good life.” I’d thought perhaps the old lady just felt sorry for her son and knew nothing about his dirty deeds. But now… she clearly knew everything. Perfect. Since you mother and son colluded to treat me as an outsider and play me for a fool, don’t blame this outsider for showing no mercy. I helped Edith sit in a chair and had just poured half a glass of water when the debt collectors arrived exactly as I’d anticipated. The moment Edith saw them coming, she immediately tried to abandon me and flee. But the lead creditor grabbed her by the back of her collar at the door, yanking her stumbling back into the chair. She deliberately fell sideways, drawing out a wail of my name: “Vivian, they’re hitting people.” In the past, I would definitely have already stepped in front of Edith, taking everything upon myself. But now I just coldly watched Edith perform, then pretended to cry myself: “Gentlemen, my husband’s body is barely cold. What can we widows and orphans use to repay debts?” The lead creditor spat: “Cut the act. That villa in the neighboring town was Harrison’s doing, wasn’t it? It’s enough to cover the debt.” I hastily waved my hands: “Sir, I just asked my mother-in-law—there’s no such thing.” Then I turned to Edith for confirmation. “Edith, right?” Edith’s neck stiffened, her eyes darting wildly as she randomly nodded twice. With such a guilty appearance, how could the creditors not see through it? The leader slapped down a paper on the table: “The property owner’s name is yours, old lady Harrison.” Edith’s face turned white as a sheet as she stammered: “It’s… it’s my retirement savings house…” “Retirement house?” The creditor sneered, pulling out a mortgage agreement. “Sign. Use it to settle the debt right now.” Edith clutched her clothes and shrank back. That was her son’s love nest—how could she give it up? She stood and rushed to grab my arm: “Vivian, think of something. How will I survive without that house?” I sneered internally but looked distressed on the surface as I pried her hand away: “Mrs. Harrison, with Harrison gone, the old house is enough for us. This million in debt—we could work ourselves to death and never repay it…” Hearing this, the creditor erupted in fury, pressing Edith’s neck toward the table: “Your son’s dead so you think you can renege on debts? If you don’t sign today, I’ll chop off your hand and use it for your thumbprint.” Edith threw me a pleading look, which I ignored. She gritted her teeth and pretended to faint. The creditor laughed coldly and delivered a sharp slap. The crisp sound exploded. Edith jerked awake in pain, no longer daring to play tricks, trembling as she signed and stamped the document. Only then did the creditors swagger away. Edith’s rage attacked her heart, and she actually did faint. Grace happened to come by and urgently asked if we should send her to the clinic. I pulled my lips into a smile: “Where would we get extra money? Just send her back to the old house.” Grace immediately called a worker to fetch a cart and send Edith back, then looked at me worriedly: “Vivian, now that we’ve set a precedent of using property to settle debts, the other creditors will probably come knocking very soon.” I smiled. “I know.” Haha, I was afraid they wouldn’t come knocking. “Grace, go check how much inventory is still in our warehouse. Before nightfall, pack it all up and take it away. Remember—quietly, don’t let anyone else know.” Grace blinked her almond eyes and asked: “Vivian, where should we ship this packed inventory?” “New York.” I met her searching gaze. “What do you say? Do you dare venture out there with me?” Grace’s eyes lit up at these words: “As long as Vivian is willing to take me, I’ll go through fire and water.” I smiled and patted her head, then turned my sharp gaze toward the roiling dark clouds outside the window. A storm was coming. Harrison and his pampered childhood sweetheart would have nowhere to hide from the rain tonight. 4 Since the villa in the neighboring town was seized, debt collectors descended like a plague of locusts. I’d already settled the workers’ wages in advance and let them leave early. The creditors entered the factory unobstructed and quickly emptied it of machinery, equipment, tables and chairs. When there was nothing left to take from the factory, creditors set their sights on the old house. Edith was furious, demanding why I wasn’t finding solutions. “Vivian. Aren’t you supposed to be so capable?” So much for Edith’s act now. I covered my face and sobbed: “Edith, I’ve exhausted every option… at least most of the debt is cleared now.” Edith slammed the table in fury: “The machinery and equipment have all been taken—what is the Harrison family supposed to do in the future?” I lowered my eyes, deliberately adding fuel to the fire: “Edith, as long as we’re still here, there will always be a way.” Sure enough, the next second, Edith picked up a teacup and hurled it at me. I staggered back on cue, porcelain shards exploding near my ear. “You jinx. Why don’t you just die.” When the debt collectors entered, this was exactly the scene that greeted them. I laughed inwardly while tears streamed down my face: “Edith, don’t worry. I’ll go back to the factory right now and find a solution. I’ll definitely bring our factory back to life.” Without waiting for Edith’s response, I “stumbled” out clutching my forehead. Behind me, her cursing was cut off by the creditors’ rebuke: “Old woman, less talk. Hurry up and hand over assets to settle the debt.” I left the old house and ran into Grace returning. Before seeing Edith, I’d instructed Grace to do two things: First, using Edith’s name, demand my gemstone bracelet and gold earrings back from Lucy. Second, in Edith’s tone, send Harrison some money, telling them to “take the money and run far away to avoid the storm.” My dowry—why should it benefit Harrison. “Vivian, I got everything back.” I nodded. With this, everything was ready. I cried all the way back to the factory, then waited until evening when everyone should be eating dinner, and set a fire just like Harrison had done. However, Harrison had only burned a small warehouse at the time, while I ignited the entire factory.

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