Category: English

When Elias and I broke up, we made a pact. Total silence. We were never supposed to see each other again. But I couldn’t let him go. Years later, at a disastrous dinner party with old friends, I had one too many drinks. I ended up clinging to the bar owner—who bore a haunting resemblance to Elias—sobbing as I made him an offer. “I’ll give you five grand a month. Just… be mine. Will you do that?” No one could pry me loose. I just kept calling him by Elias’s name, over and over. The owner looked incredibly awkward at first. But then, a look of realization, almost excitement, flashed across his face. “Wait,” he whispered, looking closely at me. “Are you the girl who dumped my big brother back in college?” 1 We were playing Truth or Dare at dinner. Classic, right? The bottle stopped, pointing right at me. One of my friends asked if I was in love with anyone right now. I didn’t hesitate. I nodded. “Yes.” The table went nuts. They demanded to know who he was. I refused to say another word and took three penalty shots instead. But after that, every time the bottle landed on me, they asked the same thing. I was drunk, spinning, and I couldn’t drink anymore. So, I snapped and told the truth. “It’s my ex.” The room went dead silent. Then, a few heads leaned in close. “Maya, seriously? How good could this guy have been? It’s been five years and you still can’t move on?” “Why did he dump you, anyway?” “Come on, spill. Maybe we can help you get him back.” The alcohol was screaming in my head. I slammed my hand on the table, looked around the circle, and slurred my words. “He didn’t dump me. I grabbed him and threw him away.” “And there’s something else. We have a kid.” 2 My story with Elias started because I was shallow. He was just so incredibly good-looking. Physically, from his face to his build, he was exactly my type. So, even though I knew our backgrounds didn’t match at all, I decided to chase him. On the day he finally said yes to being with me, he asked a question. “If we know for a fact that we have to break up after graduation, do you still want to do this?” Let’s be real. Very few college couples make it to “happily ever after,” and we had a massive wealth gap between us on top of that. Honestly, I just wanted to date him. I wanted the romance. So, I nodded. “Yes. I do.” And just like that, Elias and I were a couple. Our relationship was as sweet as any other college romance. Except for one thing: we both tacitly agreed to keep things from getting too intimate. Once, celebrating a birthday in a hotel room, we were kissing intensely. My knees went weak, and I almost slipped to the floor. He caught me, lifted me onto the bed, and leaned over me. His scent completely overwhelmed me. But at the critical moment, he stopped. He fought for control and just tucked the blanket around me. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be right back.” I didn’t stop him. He wasn’t going to commit to a life with me, and I didn’t want to give him everything. That was our unspoken agreement. Honestly, the entire time we were dating, I kept reminding myself not to fall too deep. I knew the breakup would be devastating if I did. But in the end, I still failed to protect my heart. 3 It was Christmas Eve. Elias had made reservations for dinner. But my advisor assigned a last-minute project, forcing us to work late in the lab. I had to stand him up. When I finally came out, it was snowing hard. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. A senior guy in the lab offered to walk me back to my dorm. Just as we stepped out of the science building, we ran right into Elias. He was wearing a black pea coat, holding an umbrella, with a gift box in his other hand. It looked like he’d been waiting down there for a long time. We were keeping our relationship a total secret. I was terrified his family would find out, so in front of others, we acted like strangers. I planned to walk past him like usual and text him later to meet up. But Elias grabbed my hand. He aggressively pulled me under his umbrella. The senior guy was stunned. Before he could ask anything, Elias explained, “I’m walking my girlfriend home.” The guy was in total shock. “You… you’re dating someone?” Not just dating. It had been almost three years. Elias pulled me away, walking fast. I had to jog to keep up. “I’m sorry you waited so long. That guy is so slow at everything.” “But Elias, why did you tell him we’re dating? He talks a lot. It’s going to get out.” “I’ll explain it to him tomorrow. I’ll say you were joking.” Elias set his jaw and didn’t say a word. He didn’t take me back to my dorm. He took me to a hotel near campus. As soon as we were inside the entryway, he broke character. He pinned me against the door. I could tell something was wrong. “Did you misunderstand something?” I whispered. “He’s just a guy from my lab. There’s nothing else…” Before I could finish, he pinned both my hands over my head and kissed me hard. Elias was usually so gentle with this stuff, but this time, he was dominant. Aggressive. He started pulling at my dress and asked me straight out, “Can we?” I was stunned. I tried to stop him. “Wait…” He was pressed on top of me, sweating from fighting his impulses. His voice was raw and deep. “I want you, Elara.” “Let’s just go public. No more hiding. And we’re not breaking up after graduation.” “Give me three years. I will marry you.” His hand was on my waist, palm scorching hot. I noticed a scratch on the back of his hand, like he’d been pricked by a needle. My eyes landed on the gift box behind him. It had fallen to the floor, spilling the Christmas gift he’d prepared for me. It was a handmade chunky-knit blanket. They were really popular on campus just then. I pointed at the soft, pink blanket. “Did you knit that yourself?” He didn’t understand why I was asking about that right now, but he answered anyway, keeping his patience. “Yeah.” “You said you wanted one, so I looked up tutorials online and learned how to do it.” I pressed my lips together and said nothing. He saw my silence and slowly let go of my hands. The look in his eyes was pure devastation. “I’m sorry. I crossed a line tonight. I’ll go take a cold shower.” “But Elara, what I said wasn’t impulsive. I am seriously committing to you.” Before he could get up and leave, I found the courage to grab him. “Okay,” I said, my voice shaking. Elias froze. “What?” “I love the blanket you made me.” “And… I want you, too.” Elias took a sharp breath. He violently flipped us over, pressing me into the bed. But at the critical moment, he still hesitated. He fought his desire and told me: “Elara, you can still change your mind. It’s not too late.” “I won’t regret it.” All I remember from that night is crying out until my throat was raw. I didn’t close my eyes until dawn. Once you cross that line for the first time, there is a second, and a third. We were always meticulous about protection. Except for one time. The day of graduation. Elias lost control a bit. He kept begging for more, and it went on for a long time. When we finally woke up, I realized the condom had broken at some point. Even though I took the Morning After pill immediately, I still got pregnant. 4 The moment I found out I was pregnant, I went to the clinic. I had zero intention of keeping the baby. But the doctor told me I had a unique physical condition. If I terminated this pregnancy, I might never be able to conceive again. So, I hesitated. That night, I called Elias. I was going to tell him. But before I could speak, he started talking about his cousin. He said his cousin had picked up some “gold digger” who got pregnant and was now causing a massive scene at his family’s house, trying to force a marriage. His family looked down on that kind of manipulative behavior. They absolutely refused to acknowledge her and forced her to terminate the pregnancy. He was just telling it like it was gossip, but it sent a shockwave through my system. “Elara? You said you wanted to talk about something?” I didn’t mention the pregnancy. I made up a lame excuse to hang up. He was coming to see me this weekend. It was probably better to talk about it in person. But that weekend, Elias stood me up. Instead of him, I met his mother. Mrs. Sterling looked at me with a fake, polite smile. She was actually quite nice, offering a few standard compliments. And then, she smoothly shifted topics. She told me the family was arranging for Elias to marry an heiress from another prominent family. “Because of you, he is fighting the arrangement. Maya, if you two still want to be together, I won’t stop you. I just want to tell you one thing: I have three sons, not just Elias.” “If he insists on being with you, fine. He will be cut off completely. I have two other sons I can groom for the family business. But Elias has grown up in luxury. Do you honestly think he will last a day living a hard life with you? Maybe a day or two is fine, but as soon as time passes, are you sure he won’t resent you?” “You’re a smart girl. Think it over.” Mrs. Sterling was wearing a massive emerald necklace. Every gesture screamed old money. She looked completely out of place in my tiny, rented apartment. She didn’t say a single cruel or ugly word. Before leaving, she even smiled. “Maya, if you ever need any help, you can contact me.” That arrogant, high-class way of speaking made the reality undeniably clear. The Sterling family was not a world I could ever belong to. So, the next weekend, when I saw Elias, I was calm when I broke up with him. “Why?” He looked lost. “Did I do something wrong?” “Is it because I couldn’t come see you last week? A crisis came up at work, I’m so sorry. I promise to cancel everything next time, okay?” “Oh, and that cake you wanted to try? I bought it! Taste it and see if you like it.” I was so scared when he was like this. The better he was to me, the harder it was to let him go. But I didn’t want to destroy his future. I took a deep breath, trying my best to stay calm as I used the excuse I had prepared. “Elias, long-distance is too hard. I don’t want to do this anymore.” “My family is pressuring me to settle down. I’m going back home to let them set me up on dates.” Elias froze for a long moment. Then, with sudden determination, he said, “Then I’ll move to your city. I’ll marry you. Okay?” He wouldn’t stop compromising. He even lowered his pride, crouching on the floor in front of me, begging me not to leave. “Don’t break up with me, okay? Where you go, I go. We can be together forever.” But how could his family ever allow that? I didn’t want this golden boy to sink into the mud, ending up in a marriage where we both resented each other. I hardened my heart and lied to him. “Actually, I don’t like you as much as you think I do.” “We’ve been together four years. I’m bored. I want someone new.” That day, we faced off for a long, long time. Finally, his eyes went red, and he gritted his teeth as he looked at me. “How is it that you get to decide when we start, and you get to decide when we break up? Do you even see me as a person?” “Elara Vance, after this, we are never contacting each other again.” His words were harsh, but before he left, he still left me a bank card. There were three million dollars in it. I didn’t take it. Being with him was never about the money. At the time, I was naive. I thought by not taking the money, I could still hold my head up high in front of him, that I still had my dignity. After that, we never spoke again. I moved to a new city and gave birth to Leo Vance. I worked jobs and made money while raising Leo as a single mom. My own mother stopped pressuring me to get married. She said it didn’t matter if there was a man, as long as I had a child, I was set. But over all these years, despite how flippant I acted, in my heart, I never let go of Elias Sterling. Even though I was drunk, I still had a thread of sanity left. The story of Elias Sterling stayed swallowed down in my stomach; I never said it out loud. I just ordered two more drinks and poured them down my throat. Just as I was drinking, the door to the private room opened, and a man walked in. My hand froze. This man—his eyes and brows looked exactly like Elias. Especially the eyes, with the exact same slope. But I knew instantly: it wasn’t him. I don’t know if it was the alcohol hitting my brain, but before I realized what I was doing, I was grabbing his jacket, my speech slurred as I asked him: “Are you the new model?” “How much to book you for the night?” 5 My friends were scared to death. They rushed over to pull me away, explaining that this was the bar owner. I refused to let go. I squinted my eyes, studying him. “I like your face. It looks a lot like someone I used to know.” “If you’re the owner, does that mean you cost more?” I did the mental math for my monthly salary, morgage, Leo’s living expenses, and my savings. I held up one hand, five fingers spread. “Five grand. Is five grand enough to book you for a month?” The owner was stuck in a massive, awkward spot. He muttered under his breath, “Wow, is that all I’m worth?” I gritted my teeth and offered a raise. “Okay, fine. I’ll add another grand. Six thousand, okay?” My friend grabbed my sleeve, trying to talk sense into me. “Maya, it doesn’t matter if you add another zero.” “This guy is a trust-fund kid. He doesn’t need money. I know he’s hot, but drop it. You have a better chance of winning the lottery than booking him.” I brushed my friend’s hand off. Staring at the owner’s eyes, a massive wave of bitterness flooded my chest. I grabbed his arm and started crying. “I have never seen anyone who looks so much like Elias Sterling.” “I finally find one, and of course he’s another damn trust-fund billionaire.” “Why is the world so full of trust-fund billionaires? Why couldn’t just one be available for me?” The owner had been tense, trying to find a way to escape. Hearing this, he suddenly got interested. He asked me, “Who did you say I look like?” “My ex.” He pressed his lips together. A strange hint of excitement crept into his voice. “Is your name… Elara Vance?” My mind was a total fog. I didn’t have the energy to figure out how he knew my name. I just tightened my grip on his arm, still trying to haggle. “Yeah, I’m Elara Vance. Since you know my name, we’re basically friends. Come on, can I get a friends and family discount for the booking?” “If you won’t do it by the month, how about by the day?” The owner just looked at me with a half-smile. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Babe, I am definitely not the booking type. If my big brother found out, he would literally murder me.” I didn’t understand what he was talking about. I only knew he was turning me down. I was devastated. It wasn’t because he rejected me. It was because the memory of Elias Sterling had come flooding back, and it hurt so much. Alcohol amplifies your emotions. I clung to the owner’s arm and sobbed hysterically. He was frantically handing me tissues while simultaneously unlocking his phone. He started a video call. I didn’t know who he was calling. The call was picked up almost instantly. A deep, slightly familiar voice spoke: “What?” “Liam, listen to this. I’m at the bar, and I just met this girl who wants to book me for five grand a month.” “I said no, and now she’s clinging to my sleeve, sobbing her heart out.” “Come on, analyze this for me. Should I take the offer?” The man on the other end sounded irritated. “I have zero interest in your trashy soap opera life, Ryan.” “Wait, Liam, don’t hang up yet. First, take a look at who this girl is.” With that, he pointed the camera directly at me. I didn’t understand. What did my desire to book him have to do with his brother? But from what he was saying, it sounded like if his brother agreed, he would accept my offer. Fine. I’d convince his brother. I took a deep breath and looked up at the camera. 6 I planned to say a polite hello. But I’d had too much to drink. My stomach violently revolted. Before I could say a word, I clapped my hand over my mouth and dry-heaved. The nausea surged up my throat. I couldn’t stop it. The next second, I threw up. I threw up right over the owner’s arm and jacket. He was so startled he dropped his phone. It hit the floor with a loud thwack. On the other end of the line, the man’s patience was totally gone. “Stop wasting my time.” He bluntly hung up the call. I was crouching on the floor, throwing up, thinking in my hazy mind: That voice is so beautiful. It sounds exactly like Elias Sterling’s voice. Only his was colder, deeper. These brothers were truly walking treasures. One had Elias’s face, the other had Elias’s voice. I scrambled to grab napkins and tried to clean the owner’s jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to throw up.” “Please… please don’t refuse to let me book you just because I threw up on you.” “Can I just have you as a stand-in for a few days? I promise I’ll only touch your face and hold your hand. Nothing else.” I have zero alcohol tolerance. I completely blacked out after that and collapsed. When I woke up, I was at my best friend Sarah’s apartment. She looked at me helplessly. “It’s the afternoon. You finally decided to join the living?” My hangover was giving me a massive headache. She handed me a glass of honey water. “Do you remember what happened last night?” I remembered the broad strokes. Remembered reminiscing about Elias, then running into that owner who looked exactly like him at the bar. “You have zero memory of the best parts,” Sarah said, putting her hands on her hips. “You were completely wasted. You clung to the bar owner and begged him to let you book him.” “He said no, so you threw up all over him, and then you forced him to take his jacket off, saying you were going to wash it and bring it back.” “Oh, and you stole his phone and forced him to add you as a friend on Snapchat.” I was convinced Sarah was screwing with me. Until I saw a man’s jacket hanging on her balcony. I stood there, totally speechless for a long time. On my phone, I had indeed added a new friend. I forced myself to send him a message: [Hi, this is Maya Vance from last night.] His name was Ryan Sterling. He immediately sent back a voice message, his tone full of barely suppressed laughter: [Well, hello, Ms. Vance. Back already? Does this mean you still want to book me?] I quickly typed an explanation: [I had way too much to drink last night. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I am so, so sorry.] [The reason I’m messaging is that I realized the stain on your jacket won’t wash out. Can I buy you a replacement?] After a pause, Ryan replied: [That jacket is actually sold out.] [Then tell me how much it costs. I’ll pay double for the damages.] Ryan was surprisingly easy to deal with: [It’s fine. Just pay the original price.] Before I could even type a “thank you,” two numbers popped up on the screen. [$8,000.] I rubbed my eyes, thinking I must be seeing things. It was just a jacket. This felt like extortion. Just as I was about to snap at him, he sent a link. It turned out the jacket was from a foreign luxury brand, and it actually retailed for $8,000. I was speechless. [Actually, Ms. Vance, you don’t necessarily have to pay. I have a favor to ask.] [If you agree, we can forget about the jacket entirely.] He said the bar had been a bit quiet lately and hoped I would bring some friends by more often. [Just to help liven the place up.] [Especially for the anniversary party coming up in two days. It’s really important to me, and I’d really appreciate it if you could make it.] I thought about it. Eight thousand dollars. That was a family vacation with Leo. That was a new bag and jewelry. That was a lot of things. Hesitating for even a second would be disrespectful to that eight grand. So, I agreed. “Okay.”

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Cole Sterling was known throughout the city as a notorious playboy. He treated every single one of his girlfriends exceptionally well. Whatever they wanted, he gave them. Except marriage. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his first love. That was why he could never take that final step with any other girl. By the fifth month of our relationship, my parents were pressuring me heavily to settle down. I had no choice but to say goodbye. “I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations.” He just smiled. “Yeah.” That very night, his friends threw him a “Welcome Back to the Bachelor Life” party. It was a massive, loud affair. Someone inevitably brought me up: “Hey Cole, I think I just saw Maya. She was with some guy, pretty good-looking too.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the entire room started gossiping, the noise level rising. But Cole suddenly snapped. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and sneered: “She was the one who said she wanted to be together, and she’s the one who asked for the breakup. “Does she really think she gets to have it both ways?” 01 When Cole and I first got together, his friends actually placed bets on us. The stakes were high. They were betting on whether our relationship would last longer than a month. His family was incredibly wealthy and his reputation preceded him. When I first met him, my roommate warned me: “The Sterlings aren’t just rich, they’re old money. They aren’t people you want to mess with.” “But Cole is a bit different. I hear he’s actually really easy to date. He never loses his temper with girls, and he always ends things amicably with every ex.” She wasn’t exaggerating. But between us, it wasn’t really a matter of who chased who. I was in my second year of grad school, working on a research project for my advisor. I desperately needed a specific, out-of-print English textbook, and it was impossible to find. I posted on countless academic forums, but it was like shouting into the void. Just as I was about to give up, someone finally replied. The tone was a mix of playful arrogance and genuine helpfulness— [My grandfather actually has a copy of that in his library. Contact me if you still need it. Consider it my good deed for the day.] I messaged him immediately. Afterward, to thank him, we hung out a couple of times. We got along surprisingly well. The last time we saw each other, he stood under a streetlamp, looking impossibly handsome. He raised an eyebrow, as if a thought had just occurred to him, and asked: “Are we going to see each other again?” Again. Would there be an again? Seasons change, years pass, would we actually cross paths again? The moonlight was cold, the evening was perfect. Saying “no” felt like it would ruin the moment. Guided by some inexplicable impulse, I smiled, refusing to be outdone, and asked: “I heard you’re really easy to date. Is that true?” He looked at me, a smile breaking across his face: “Why don’t you try and find out?” When you’re young and haven’t experienced much of the world, meeting someone like him—confident, effortless, and undeniably powerful—makes you instinctively want to get closer. Besides, I had actually seen him long before that. It was right after I first moved to this city. I got my purse snatched at the bus station. I had absolutely nothing on me. After filing the police report, I walked out into a pouring rainstorm. I was miserable, broke, and crying hysterically. He drove past in his car, slowed down, and casually called out: “Where are you headed? I can give you a ride.” Naturally, I was too scared to get into a stranger’s car. He was patient, though. He didn’t push, just gently tried to reassure me: “I’m not a bad guy. Trust me this once. Stop crying, okay?” I had always wanted to thank him for that day, but I never saw him again. In a city with millions of people, crossing paths even once, let alone actually speaking, is incredibly rare. Not long after that night under the streetlamp, we started dating. When my roommate found out, she was shocked for a few days before finally saying: “Dating a guy like him… it must feel pretty amazing, right? But I heard none of his relationships last longer than two weeks. “Just enjoy it while it lasts. Live in the moment.” I said, Yeah, live in the moment. People are always naive at some point. Back then, I thought dating was simple: you just followed your heart. When I loved him, I didn’t care about his past; I only wanted a future with him. But later, I realized that wasn’t how it worked. Take that bet, for example. Everyone knew Cole’s girlfriends never lasted more than two weeks. Why did those rich trust-fund kids bet on one month for me? It was a long time before I found out. I learned that the extra two weeks were because my face… slightly resembled his first love. 02 Most of the people who bet against us lost a lot of money. Because, to everyone’s absolute shock, Cole and my relationship was fantastic. It was very different from his past flings. He was surprisingly proactive. He sought me out every single day, whether for lunch or dinner. There was a period where I was swamped with midterms, and he would just wait for me at the campus gates. Sometimes he’d wait for over an hour. I felt terrible and told him I’d take him out for a nice dinner to make up for it. He just tugged on my sleeve, suppressing a smile: “Your boyfriend wants to eat at the dining hall.” He paused, then asked for my permission: “Is that okay?” Honestly, I knew what he was doing. He didn’t want me to have to commute back and forth just to eat. I had heard rumors about him from his college days—he was incredibly snobby and absolutely refused to eat dining hall food. The young master of the Sterling family had the capital to look down on everything. We never broke up, and our relationship was so good it genuinely shocked people. By our third month together, he rented an apartment right near my campus. We spent more and more time together. He even set up a home theater in the apartment. Whenever we had free time, we’d curl up on the couch and watch movies. He didn’t actually care for the movies I picked, but I loved them. He would patiently watch them with me from beginning to end. If we watched one I particularly loved, he would even take notes and write serious reviews for me to read. His grandfather was a renowned artist, and Cole had studied under him for a few years, so he was quite talented. During those days, he would occasionally sketch me. There was one sketch, in particular, that left a deep impression on me—a girl standing under an oak tree, clutching a stack of books to her chest, her features delicate, her smile bright and pure. But I always wanted to ask him: when we first met, I was so introverted and shy. When had I ever smiled that brightly? Then came a late night. It was our first time. I was struggling with my thesis research, and when he found out, he patiently guided me through the confusing parts. He tapped my waist lightly, his posture relaxed: “Make sense now?” I had a sudden “aha” moment and excitedly threw my arms around him in a tight hug. He looked at me, his eyes slowly darkening. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing me down. His lips moved slightly, feeling cold against mine. He was a little nervous, but maintaining his usual casual facade, gripping my hand tightly: “Maya.” “Mhm.” Halfway through, his voice low and raspy, he brought up that sketch. He said: “The first time we met, you were standing right there. I wanted to take a picture of you so badly.” I laughed, kissing his neck, implying: “Did you say this to all your other girlfriends, too?” Whispering sweet nothings in the middle of passion, reminiscing about the moment we met. He clicked his tongue, pressing against me with a rogueish grin: “Go out and ask around. Which one of them ever made it to this step with me?” The ambiguity flowed silently between us. By the end, I couldn’t laugh anymore. I was held tightly in his arms, crying softly. September in the city was beautiful, the autumn colors crisp and clear. Videos of tourists going to the mountains to pray for good fortune were all over social media. I begged him to go with me. He stayed up for several nights straight to finish his work projects, just to clear his schedule for a day to go with me. On the winding mountain paths, he held my hand tightly, walking up hundreds of stone steps, watching my every move, terrified I’d trip and fall. But later, after I left him, I realized… in a lifetime, who doesn’t stumble and fall eventually? Back then, I really, truly loved him. 03 When did things start to change? I think it was when I saw that photo. It was our fifth month together. Cole had a massive social circle, and for his birthday, everyone was going all out to celebrate. They started planning it weeks in advance. I was on break at the time, so I helped out with the preparations. Because we spent so much time together, his friends never filtered their conversations around me. Slowly, I learned that Cole had actually put his heart on the line for a girl once. He had seriously proposed, carefully picked out a ring, and booked a venue for an engagement party. But in the end, because of a minor misunderstanding, the girl felt he didn’t love her enough. They had a massive fight, both were exhausted, and she angrily left the country. He didn’t try to stop her, and they broke up just like that. They had almost gotten married. After hearing the whole story, someone showed me a photo, totally unapologetic: “Honestly, you do look a bit like Chloe. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t have bet on you in the first place.” In the photo, Chloe was smiling brightly. She looked exactly like the girl in the sketch, standing under the oak tree. When I first learned about the bet, I just thought they were bored rich kids. But looking at it now, I realized the only truly stupid person in this situation was me. Everyone knew that he had never gotten over his breakup with his first love. He still tracked her every move. Every year on her birthday, he would send someone across the world to deliver the most expensive, exquisite jewelry. If she ran into any trouble over there, someone would quickly relay the message to him. And no matter what, he would fly out there and quietly solve everything for her. He wouldn’t let her know, he wouldn’t contact her, but he also hadn’t let her go. Only I was naive enough to believe that to him, I was actually someone special. Finally, someone joked: “Ever since Chloe left, Cole’s been cycling through girlfriends constantly. We all guess he’s just doing it to force her to come back.” Everyone in the room laughed. Cole finished his phone call and walked back in. He sat next to me, gently squeezing my hand, and let out a low chuckle: “What are you guys talking about? You look so happy.” I looked at him, an icy chill spreading through my heart, and said numbly: “They’re talking about your first love.” He froze, a rare moment of distraction crossing his face. In the end, he never even said her name. He just said dismissively: “What’s there to talk about?” That was the first time I seriously considered breaking up with him. Honestly, I should have thanked his friends for not keeping me in the dark. It was precisely because they didn’t care about my feelings that they told me all this, waking me up so I could see the reality of the situation. It made me realize that I was just a passing tourist in Cole’s life. I was just a tool he was using to love someone else. 04 After that day, I faintly felt that something had shifted between me and Cole. But neither of us brought up Chloe. He showed absolutely no intention of explaining anything to me. He became even more generous with me. He took me to exclusive charity auctions, and if I so much as glanced at an item for more than a second, it would be delivered to me shortly after. I forget who told me. They said Cole treated every single ex-girlfriend exceptionally well. When they broke up, he was never stingy. Whatever they wanted, he gave them—whether it was cash or career connections. It almost felt like a transaction: money for services rendered. The night before his birthday, he had someone deliver two transfer deeds to me. A luxury condo, and a high-end sports car. When I received them, my fingertips went ice cold. My hands were shaking as I called him. He answered almost immediately. I pretended everything was normal and asked: “Giving me such a huge gift right before your birthday… don’t you feel like you’re losing out?” “Losing out on what? I like you. I want to treat you well,” he replied, his tone slightly elevated, laced with a smile. It sounded like the sweet teasing of a couple deeply in love. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. “These things are too expensive. This is practically a dowry.” He was silent for a long time. I pressed my lips together, tears falling silently. Finally, his voice paused slightly, before he said casually: “Maya. “Stop overthinking things. Go to sleep early. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.” Was I supposed to believe him? That he was doing all this because he liked me, and not because he was preparing to break up with me? 05 The next day, Cole picked me up as promised. As soon as we arrived at the venue, his phone rang. He stared at the string of numbers on the screen for a long time before letting go of my hand: “Go on inside first. I need to take this call.” For a man like him to actually hesitate like that… I said okay. After walking inside, I found a random spot to sit down. Not long after, some guys came in from outside. “It’s freezing out there. Who is Cole on the phone with?” “Who else? Chloe. I caught the end of it—sounds like she’s moving back in a few days.” “Seriously? Cole must be absolutely thrilled.” When a story of people waiting years for each other finally gets a happy ending, everyone is happy for them, regardless of who it is. Someone finally sighed: “After all this time, the person by Cole’s side is still Chloe.” It’s just that in moments like this, when everyone is reminiscing about the past and getting emotional about their deep connection, it made me—the current, official girlfriend—feel incredibly superfluous. Like an outsider. When Cole came inside, they had stopped talking about it. He kept his lips pressed in a tight line, his expression dark, hiding a subtle trace of irritation. But when he saw me, he masked those emotions. He walked over, squeezed my hand, and smiled: “Having fun? You’re going to help me cut the cake later.” I said okay. After cutting the cake, I would initiate the breakup. Keep it dignified and complete. After this, we truly wouldn’t see each other again. 06 In the end, I didn’t get to cut the cake with him. Because not long after he said that, someone from outside brought in a gift. It was sent by Chloe. It was an extremely expensive luxury watch. The exact brand Cole always wore. Ironically, my gift was also a watch. But I couldn’t afford that brand; I had bought the best one I could within my budget. Cole had only glanced at the one I gave him before having someone put it away. But the one from Chloe, he stared at it for a long time. So long that the knuckles of his hand gripping the watch strap turned white. His gaze was deep and complex. Finally, he lifted his hand and put the watch on. Someone took a picture and sent it to their group chat, saying that “Little Chloe” had great taste, and it was no wonder Cole hadn’t been able to forget her after all these years. I wasn’t originally supposed to see this, but a girl sitting next to me—Cole’s cousin—was probably too excited and didn’t check who was sitting next to her. She grabbed my arm, squealed, and shoved her phone in my face. “Look, they’re so perfect together.” On the screen, Chloe had replied: [As long as he likes it. You guys keep an eye on him for me, don’t let him drink too much.] And then people started cheering and clapping. I was pushed to the very back of the crowd. I clapped along with them. At the very bottom of the gift box, there was a card. The handwriting was elegant: [Though we are far apart, our hearts know each other. The distance between us means nothing.] Cole froze slightly, his hand gripping the card going stiff. Then, for some reason, as if he remembered something, his expression suddenly turned frantic. He looked up, scanning the room, until his gaze finally locked onto me through the crowd. I gave him a calm smile and mouthed: “Happy Birthday.” Only then did he seem to let out a sigh of relief, but he didn’t ask me to cut the cake with him anymore. He had a lot of friends, and they partied hard. It didn’t take long for him to get completely wasted. No one was paying attention to me, so I just watched from the sidelines. When it was over, his friends helped him upstairs. I didn’t follow them. I decided to just leave. A breakup didn’t necessarily have to be done face-to-face. As I was heading for the door, one of his close friends chased after me. He looked around until he found me, then shoved a hotel key card into my hand. He spoke hurriedly: “Cole is waiting for you in the penthouse suite. Go up and keep him company.” I knew this guy. His name was Julian. He was Cole’s best friend, and out of all the guys in his circle, he was the one I was most familiar with. But honestly, he looked down on me too. He had always firmly believed that I was no different from Cole’s past girlfriends—just a fling that wouldn’t last, someone he’d never truly care about. The real love of his life was coming back. What good was a cheap knockoff? 07 I didn’t take the key card. Over the loud music, I spoke: “Tell him, whatever was between us… it ends right here.” Julian looked shocked, like he hadn’t heard me clearly. The hand holding the key card twitched: “What did you say?” I patiently repeated it, word for word. Julian frowned, staring at me for a moment: “Are you serious? You know how he operates. Once it’s over, there’s no taking it back.” He never got back together with an ex. Except for Chloe. Because he was always waiting for her. I nodded, my voice firm: “I know.” He pressed his lips together, looking at me: “No, but… you guys were doing so well, why suddenly…” He stopped halfway through his sentence, as if he suddenly realized something. He didn’t ask any further questions. He just nodded: “Alright, fine. You can go. But don’t forget to get all your stuff out of his apartment. “It wouldn’t be good if Chlo… if someone saw it.” I laughed softly: “Okay.” I moved quickly. That very night, I packed up everything I had left at his place and took it with me. He had given me a lot of things. I didn’t take any of it. I also left the two transfer deeds right where I found them, untouched. Since I had decided to break up, taking that stuff would only be emotional baggage, a constant reminder of what I had lost. After I got back to campus, I didn’t think about anything. I just went to sleep. I slept for a long time. When I woke up, I checked my phone. I saw a message from Cole. Just one. It was sent at 10 PM last night. I was probably talking to Julian right around that time, and then rushing to pack my things, so I hadn’t checked my phone. He said: [Come upstairs.] 08 I checked the time. It was already 2 PM. I hadn’t replied for that long, and I hadn’t gone to see him. If this had happened before last night, knowing Cole’s temper, he definitely would have called me or come looking for me himself. But right now, absolutely nothing had happened. It seemed Julian had already delivered my message. A man like him, who seemed so warm and affectionate on the surface, was actually completely emotionally detached at his core. Since I had initiated the breakup, and it was exactly what he wanted anyway, he naturally had no objections. He wouldn’t say anything more, let alone try to convince me to stay. My life returned to exactly how it was before I met Cole. I received a call from my mom. I was living alone in the city, and she worried about me constantly. Every few days, she’d try to set me up on a blind date. She just wanted me to find someone good to settle down with. After hanging up, she sent me a few phone numbers. [Make sure you add them. If you find someone you click with, give it a try.] I said I would, but I still didn’t add them. My roommate sighed and tried to advise me: “Why do this to yourself? A guy like Cole is probably going to have a new girlfriend by next week. You need to move on with your own life, don’t you?” I said it wasn’t because of him. I just felt that rebounding immediately into a new relationship because the last one didn’t work out was irresponsible to myself. I wouldn’t always meet the wrong people. I would get married eventually. I would find someone I truly loved, who loved me back. But I thought… just not right now. When I was eighteen and just starting grad school, the thought of meeting someone new felt impossible. But now, it seemed so easy. After the breakup, I thought Cole and I would never see each other again. But coincidence is a funny thing. I was out shopping with a friend, and as we walked out of the mall, I ran into Cole and another guy. He was dressed very formally, like he had just come from a corporate event—sharp suit, radiating that faint cedarwood cologne scent. It was a different brand than the one he used to wear. The moment our eyes met, he smiled calmly at me, gave a slight nod, and then looked away, continuing his conversation with the guy next to him. I suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over me. So this is what an amicable breakup looks like. He treats me the exact same way he treats everyone else. No fighting, no accusations, no lingering resentment. When we meet, we’re still polite acquaintances. We just walked past each other. But as I reached the crosswalk on the other side of the street, I suddenly got a phone call. It was from Cole. I was wearing a heavy trench coat. I adjusted the scarf around my neck against the biting wind, and declined the call. But less than two minutes later, he called again. I didn’t answer, and he just kept calling. Finally, I answered and said: “Mr. Sterling.” There was silence on the other end for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, I heard him say: “Look up.” 09 Across the street, I looked at the man standing there. I couldn’t see his face clearly, nor could I tell what expression he was wearing at that exact moment. He had his hands in his pockets, looking back at me. I asked: “What do you want to say?” His voice was a little raspy. After a long pause, he spoke: “Why?” I thought for a second, then replied: “Why did I break up with you?” He gave a soft “mhm.” I felt a little baffled. A man as smart as him, who saw things so clearly… his friends all understood it perfectly. How could he possibly be asking ‘why’? I didn’t really want to get into it with him, so I gave a generic excuse: “My family wants me to get married, and they’re pressuring me a lot.” His voice faltered slightly. A few seconds later, he asked: “Just because of that?” I sighed: “Yeah.” He seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment, he spoke again: “I could marry you…” I cut him off, too exhausted to keep doing this: “I already have someone I’m planning to marry. “I heard your first love is moving back. Congratulations.” He went silent. I heard the click of a lighter on his end. After a moment, he let out a short laugh: “Yeah.” Then, he asked another question, as if just trying to fill the silence: “All the things I gave you… you didn’t take any of them. Did you not like them? Tell me what you like, and I’ll have someone send you something else.” I sighed: “There’s no need. “We shouldn’t contact each other anymore. Let’s just leave things on a good note. “Goodbye.” With that, I hung up the phone. I didn’t look at him again; I just turned and walked away. On the way home, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts. 10 That afternoon, a group of us from my program went out to dinner with our advisor. Halfway through the meal, he suddenly took a phone call: “I need to step out and grab someone. He’s technically your senior. He just got back from overseas, and he happened to be having dinner nearby.” A few minutes later, the door to the private dining room was pushed open. I looked up and saw the man standing in the doorway. He stood tall, exuding an air of effortless elegance. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up halfway as he greeted us. The people next to me started whispering immediately: “Oh my god, it’s Ethan. I can’t believe he’s back in the states.” “I heard he’s incredibly brilliant. He’s made a huge name for himself internationally at such a young age, won a ton of awards. He’s the professor’s star pupil.” “Never mind all that, he is so handsome.” The atmosphere in the room was great. I smiled along with everyone else. For some reason, he looked a little familiar. Not long after he left, my phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up with a WhatsApp message. Ethan: [Don’t remember me?] It was weird, I hadn’t even saved his contact info, but I remembered instantly. Back then, right after I started grad school, I went to a concert with a friend. When it ended, we were walking out together but got separated by the massive crowd. I was rushing to find her, turned around too fast, crashed into someone, and sprained my ankle. The guy helped me up, told me in a deep voice not to move, and immediately took me to the emergency room, even covering my medical bills. I felt terrible. It was entirely my fault, yet I had made a stranger spend hours dealing with my mess. So, when we left the hospital, I asked for his contact information. After Venmoing him the money, I blurted out: “There sure are a lot of good Samaritans in this city. And they’re all really good-looking.” He asked: “Oh? Have you met other good Samaritans?” I said: “Yeah, but I never saw him again after that.” The man thought for a moment: “I know a lot of people. Maybe I can help you find him.” But I thought about it for a long time and didn’t even know how to describe Cole. In the end, I decided against it. He smiled, his demeanor calm, intellectual, and reserved: “Alright then. I hope the next time we meet, you’ll have found what you’re looking for.” I chatted with Ethan on WhatsApp for a bit. As we were wrapping up the conversation, I thought for a moment and asked him: [Are you free tonight? I’d love to buy you dinner, to say thank you.] He said he was. We quickly settled on a time and a restaurant.

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Oliver Sterling’s high school sweetheart, Chloe, was driving her car when she hit me while I was riding my bike. Oliver rushed to the scene. Chloe let out a sigh of relief. “My boyfriend is here. If you want any compensation, just talk to his assistant.” Oliver draped his suit jacket over her shoulders. Then, he frowned, staring at my bleeding knee for a long time. Chloe’s voice was hesitant. “Do you guys know each other?” Oliver lowered his eyes, took her hand, and turned to leave. “I don’t know her.” I sat quietly on the curb, putting on a band-aid, showing no reaction to his words. After all. When he handed me our prenuptial agreement three years ago, the very first clause demanded that our marriage remain an absolute secret. I couldn’t get an Uber during the morning rush hour. As I limped my way to work, I thought to myself: My three-year contract marriage with Oliver Sterling was about to expire. I could finally leave. 1 I always knew Oliver had a girl he couldn’t forget. I just didn’t know it was the woman who had just hit me. Not until Oliver arrived. For a split second, I froze. My subconscious mind actually thought he was coming to pick me up. The girl in front of me stood up and jogged over to him. Her white dress fluttered as she threw herself into his arms. “Oliver, what should I do? I hit someone.” The man took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. His voice was as deep, mellow, and gentle as always. “I’ll handle it.” I sluggishly pulled my gaze away, staring down at my wound. It suddenly dawned on me why Oliver hadn’t been coming home much lately. The girl in his arms. His unforgettable ex, Chloe, had returned from abroad. 2 Chloe let out a sigh of relief. She pulled back from his embrace and looked back at me. “My boyfriend is here.” “If you want any compensation, just talk to his assistant.” She offered an embarrassed, apologetic smile. “I am so, so sorry. I made you late for work, and I hurt you.” “Please, don’t worry. Ask for whatever compensation you need. My boyfriend is very wealthy; he’ll agree to anything!” I softly replied, “Thank you.” Oliver’s assistant looked incredibly awkward. He was one of the very few people who knew Oliver and I were secretly married. “Mrs… uh, no, Miss.” “Well, um…” His eyes swept over my wound and locked onto it. “Why is your cut still bleeding?” “It’s been half an hour since the accident.” “Do you have a blood clotting disorder?” I nodded. “It’s only mild.” Oliver looked over, his voice dropping slightly. “A clotting disorder?” Chloe looked confused. “Is something wrong?” He seemed not to hear her. His gaze was fixed on my bleeding knee, his brow furrowed deeply. Chloe finally sensed that something was off. She looked at me with confusion, then looked at Oliver. “Do you guys… know each other?” Oliver was never going to let his first love know he had a secret wife. He snapped out of it, lowered his eyes, and masked his emotions. “I don’t know her.” He immediately took Chloe’s hand, casually instructing his assistant before walking away. “Take her to the hospital.” 3 As their silhouettes faded into the distance. I declined the assistant’s offer to drive me. “I’ve already called a Lyft.” “Just send me the $237 for my lost wages today, please.” The assistant left, looking incredibly uncomfortable. I slapped a band-aid on my knee. Unfortunately, the driver called to say he was stuck in traffic and couldn’t make it. I had no choice but to push myself up off the pavement and limp slowly down the sidewalk. Today is September 28th. There are exactly two months left on my contract with Oliver. It’s time to start preparing for my departure. 4 From high school all the way through college, my tuition was funded by a scholarship program Oliver sponsored. For college, I specifically chose to go to a university in his city. During my junior year, I interned at his company for three months. At that time, Chloe was already in Europe getting her Master’s degree. So, I had no idea she even existed. Oliver kept me close, teaching me a lot about the corporate world. He was a man who rarely showed emotion, but once, when a sleazy client tried to grope me, Oliver kicked the guy square in the chest. Oliver placed a heavy liquor bottle in my hand. He stood behind me, his arms practically enveloping me, and whispered, “Do you know what I’m teaching you today?” I was completely enveloped by his cold, cedarwood cologne. I kept my breathing shallow, forcing myself to stay calm as I answered. “You… you’re teaching me to fight back when appropriate.” “To control the situation by knowing when to push and when to pull back, instead of…” His large, elegant hand wrapped around mine, gripping the neck of the bottle. “Good student. But this isn’t a multiple-choice test. Don’t be so textbook.” He guided my hand, raising it high into the air. “It’s just a brawl.” Smash— Without holding back, he guided my hand to smash the bottle over the client’s head. The impact sent a shockwave up my arm, making my hand go numb. Oliver pulled the pocket square from his suit jacket and looked down, gently wiping the sweat from my palm. “Don’t ever forget this. I’ve got your back.” “Don’t let anyone bully you.” I hurriedly pulled my hand away, muttered a hasty “I got it,” and ran off. Because if I stayed a second longer. The crush I had on him would have been impossible to hide. 5 Right before I graduated. Oliver came to me with a contract. He needed a marriage of convenience to fend off the relentless pressure from his parents to settle down. The term was three years. The main condition was that our marriage had to be kept an absolute secret from the outside world. I just had to accompany him to his family’s estate occasionally to put on a show for his parents. We were not required to fulfill any marital duties. We were not responsible for each other. I could even date other people, as long as I kept it low-profile and didn’t let his parents find out. Upon completion of the contract, I would receive a payout of $3 million. 6 Maybe it was because it was the first time I had ever loved someone. Or maybe Oliver’s occasional indulgence made me lose sight of my place. After marrying Oliver, I moved into the new mansion he had bought. The thing I looked forward to most every day was waiting for him to come home from work. We ate dinner together, chatted, and sometimes he’d even watch a movie or go for a walk with me. One night, he drank a lot at a corporate event. He was brought home by his female executive assistant. His arm was draped over her shoulder, his face buried in the crook of her neck. “Mrs. Sterling, please step aside.” “I need to help Mr. Sterling inside.” A heavy, invisible knot formed in my chest. I didn’t move aside. I reached my hands out to her. “I’ll take my husband. You can leave him to me.” As I supported a groggy Oliver and prepared to close the door. The secretary offered a condescending smile. “Being Mr. Sterling’s wife, you should learn to be a little more open-minded.” “With jealousy like that, you’re going to drive yourself crazy sooner or later.” “What, do you expect Mr. Sterling to fire every female employee in the company just for you?” I didn’t realize Oliver was still somewhat lucid. He heard her entire speech. And he naturally realized what my true feelings were. When I brought out the hangover soup I had made. The man was slouched on the sofa, staring at me with clear, sobering eyes. “You’re awake, perfect.” “Drink some of this,” I said, my voice tight as I pushed the bowl toward him. “It’ll make you feel better.” I was still angry about him being so intimate with his secretary, so I didn’t want to talk to him much. Oliver just glanced at the bowl. He didn’t touch it. Out of nowhere, he asked me: “Do you know why I never let you go into my study?” I was confused for a second, then shook my head. He stood up, grabbed my hand, and led me toward his study. His steps were unsteady, and I tried to support him. He shook his head, rejecting my help. He pushed the study door open. A massive canvas dominated my field of vision. A teenage girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, was standing in a field of flowers, her eyes closed, head tilted down as she smelled a blossom. From that angle, you could only see half of her face. Which is why, when I met her earlier today, I didn’t recognize her immediately. Oliver leaned against the doorframe and lit a cigarette. “I’ve loved her since I was seventeen.” “It’s been exactly ten years.” “If we hadn’t had a massive fight, and if she hadn’t left the country in a fit of rage, she would be the one I married.” He was speaking in a casual, conversational tone. But every word struck my eardrums like a hammer, bringing a sharp, stinging pain. Oliver didn’t seem to notice my reaction. He cut straight to the bone. “I can’t give you the response you want.” “So, Audrey, whatever inappropriate feelings you have… it’s best you get rid of them.” He used the same tone he used in boardroom negotiations: “I will be drafting a supplemental agreement to add this clause.” “If you cannot manage your emotions properly and overstep your boundaries by interfering in my personal life, it will be considered a breach of contract.” “In the event of a breach, not only will you forfeit your payout, but you will also be liable for a corresponding penalty fee.” The study lights were off. The light from the hallway behind us spilled across the hardwood floor. I saw my own shadow turn rigid, like a piece of wood. I didn’t move an inch. Inappropriately, I remembered a comment Oliver made during my internship about greedy people. “They hover around the boundary lines, itching to cross. It’s absolutely nauseating to watch.” Now, I had become the exact type of person that nauseated him. I don’t know when Oliver left. I just stood there in the same spot. I stood there until the sun came up. I stood there until the heavy, suffocating knot in my chest finally dissipated. From that day on, I managed myself perfectly. I never leaked a single trace of inappropriate emotion again. Calm, polite, and respectful. That was the only attitude I ever showed him. Over time. It felt like I truly didn’t love him anymore. 5 Snapping back to reality, I found a random urgent care clinic to get my leg patched up. I texted my manager to take a sick day. Once I confirmed there was nothing urgent at work, I went straight to the hospital to be with my mom. “Oh, come on, since we can’t get an appointment with the specialist, I might as well just discharge myself.” “Staying here like this is just a waste of money, sweetheart.” My mom had a tumor in her brain. The location was extremely precarious. There were no more than three surgeons in the entire country who could successfully perform the operation. I stuffed a piece of pear into her mouth, stopping her from talking any further. “Absolutely not.” “Did you forget? Last time you went to the third floor for a scan by yourself, you passed out.” “Besides, I heard that one of those top surgeons, Dr. Monroe, is going to be doing consultations here for the next two months.” My mom’s attending physician had also said that if the rumor was true, she would try to get us a spot the second his schedule opened. Thinking about how my mom’s illness might soon be cured… My steps felt much lighter as I went to the cafeteria to get lunch. The head nurse stopped me, looking hesitant. “Audrey…” “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did a spot open up in the VIP wing?” This hospital was one of the best in the country. Even the VIP rooms were constantly fully booked. My mom was currently in an 8-person shared ward without a private bathroom. The environment wasn’t great. So I had asked the head nurse to keep an eye out for any available VIP rooms. She sighed. “A room did open up.” “And I immediately reserved it for you.” “But a new patient with some serious connections just came in, and her daughter took it right out from under us.” “Oh, right, her mom also has a brain tumor.” “I heard people saying her boyfriend’s last name is Sterling, that he’s the CEO of some massive conglomerate, and the hospital administration didn’t dare say no…” Almost simultaneously. I caught a glimpse of a silhouette passing by the staircase corner. The same white dress. The exact same dress I saw Chloe wearing this morning. I pulled my gaze back and offered the nurse a reassuring smile. “Thank you anyway.” “The VIP room isn’t that important. I just hope my mom can get her surgery as soon as possible.” 8 When I got home that afternoon. Oliver was standing at the espresso machine by the kitchen island. I paused. He was actually home right now, not with Chloe. But that had nothing to do with me. I offered a slight nod. “Mr. Sterling.” After greeting him, I turned to head to my room. “How’s the scrape on your knee?” The man suddenly asked. “I put some ointment on it. It’s fine.” Oliver set his coffee down. He stood up straight and checked his watch. “I need you to come to my parents’ house for dinner tonight.” “Are you available?” Oliver really didn’t need to ask so politely. After all, according to the contract. Even if I wasn’t available, I had to cancel everything else to accompany him and put on a show for his family. I nodded. “Yes, I am.” To go to the Sterling estate, I couldn’t dress as casually as I usually did. I picked out a designer outfit from my closet. I expertly applied my makeup, put on jewelry, and sprayed on perfume. I ensured I was immaculate from head to toe. Arriving at the Sterling estate gates. As usual, I linked my arm through Oliver’s, walked in with a docile smile, and greeted every elder perfectly. During dinner, Oliver’s mother suddenly dropped a bomb without warning. “Are you two trying for a baby?” I was mid-sip of my soup. Hearing that, I choked and started coughing violently. Oliver, sitting next to me, handed me a napkin and naturally patted my back. “Audrey is still young.” His mother disagreed: “She’s 25. That’s not too young.” “You both need to start taking this seriously, understand?” I swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand, Mom.” It started pouring rain that night. Oliver and I had no choice but to stay over at the estate. One bed, but we each had our own separate blanket. We were used to it, so it wasn’t awkward. I changed into a nightgown, came out of the bathroom, and sat on the sofa to apply ointment to my knee. Oliver looked over. “I’m sorry I couldn’t personally take you to the hospital today.” He furrowed his brow, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain his relationship with Chloe to me. I interrupted him first. “It’s fine.” “The contract doesn’t require you to fulfill any obligations to me. Don’t worry about it.” “And I won’t pry into whatever is going on between you and Ms. Chloe.” “Please rest assured, I won’t expose our arrangement to her. I will continue to cooperate with you until the two months are up.” He half-raised his eyes. “Two months?” It seemed he had forgotten. I reminded him: “Yes. In two months, the contract expires, and we can get a divorce and finalize the transaction.” Oliver lost interest and set his wine glass down. “You certainly remember the date clearly.” He threw out that bland, unreadable comment and walked into the bathroom.

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We were poor. Dirt poor. To buy him that birthday gift, I saved every cent I had for a whole year. The day my mom’s tragedy struck, I left school early. That was when I heard him laughing with his friends. “This piece of junk? A third-place prize at a local diner looks better than this,” he said, shaking his head. His friend laughed loudly. “Since you hate it, Ty, give it to me. I’ll sell it and buy some decent gear.” “Go ahead. Take it.” Tyler Cole threw it to him like it was garbage. And that’s when his eyes met mine. Years later, at a high school reunion, I heard Tyler had been looking for me for eight years. 01 When my eyes met Tyler’s, his expression froze. The guy holding the watch scratched his head, looking pure agony. “Do… do you want this back?” I stared at the watch in his hand. It was already scuffed up, clearly not taken care of, even in the short time he’d had it. It wasn’t a luxury watch—it cost a little under a thousand bucks—but for me, that was a year’s worth of cutting back on lunch, saving dollar by dollar. I looked at Tyler’s wrist. He was wearing a watch today. I didn’t recognize the brand, but I knew one thing for sure: the one he was wearing cost a hell of a lot more than the one I had given him. I silently took the watch back from Tyler’s friend. Then, I looked at Tyler and spoke slowly. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.” Tyler kept his eyes low, pressing his lips together in silence. He didn’t say a word. Humiliated, I rubbed the watch in my hand, turned on my heel, and walked away. As I passed the first trash can outside the school gates, I didn’t hesitate. I threw the watch right in. I looked back at him one last time. He had lazily opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, his gaze filled with pure mockery. I froze, lowering my head. It was so humiliating, this crush of mine. Back then, I didn’t know that single look from Tyler Cole would become my nightmare for years to come. 02 When I got home, my dad was sitting on the porch, a cheap cigarette hanging from his mouth, his face a mask of despair. Mom wasn’t there. He handed me a report. It was the diagnosis. Breast cancer. Dad took a long drag of his cigarette. “The treatment is going to cost hundreds of thousands. I talked it over with your mom… we aren’t going to do it.” “Your mom said she wanted that pulled pork I make. Go buy the meat. I’m going to the hospital to bring her home in a bit.” I didn’t believe it. I flipped through that report over and over, my voice shaking. “Is it a confirmed diagnosis? These things are misdiagnosed all the time. Tomorrow, I’m taking Mom to another hospital. This has to be a mistake…” I looked at my dad stubbornly. Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He just looked at me, saying nothing. In that second, the tears fell. I couldn’t stop them. Finally, I choked out, “I’m quitting school. Let’s use the money for Mom’s treatment.” Dad just kept his head down. I knew my dad’s heartbreak wasn’t less than mine. Dad had a prosthetic leg. Back in the day, my mom was the only one willing to be with him, never judging him, always encouraging him. Even though we were poor, my parents loved each other fiercely. In middle school, when everyone was starting to talk about their faith and beliefs, I asked him, “Dad, what’s your faith?” Dad didn’t really get what “faith” meant, so I gave him a rough explanation. He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I guess your mom is my faith.” And later… I had a faith of my own, too. I wanted to grow up, make money, and take my parents to see the world. Now, my dad’s faith was collapsing. And mine was, too. I grabbed my dad’s hand, speaking to myself as much as him. “I’m not going back to school. I’ll get a job. We’ll go to New York City. We’ll get Mom the best doctors.” Dad smoked, saying nothing. But my mind was made up. I told Dad to go get Mom, and I started packing things up for New York. Then, I went back to school. 03 It started raining halfway there. People on the street were hurrying, trying to get indoors before it poured. Only then did I dare to cry, my rain and tears blending together. The school was almost empty by the time I got there. I reached my hand into that filthy trash can. The stench was overwhelming, but I dug through it over and over. But the watch I had thrown away wasn’t there. I bit my lip, wanting to slap the self that had thrown it away. Even selling it for parts would have given us a few hundred bucks! I searched for hours. I went through every piece of trash in that can. No watch. Devastated, I started walking home. The streets were deserted now. The rain was coming down so hard it actually hurt. When I got home, Dad wasn’t back yet. The house that usually felt warm now felt freezing cold. I waited, and waited… Finally, just one person came running to tell me the news. “Your dad and mom… they jumped into the river together.” That was the year I was a senior. I lost both my parents and became an orphan. 04 Eight years have passed, and I still can’t forget that day. I sat up in bed, checked my phone. It was only 4 AM. Staring at the empty room, I whispered, “Dad, Mom…” Just like always, there was no response. 八年… They haven’t come to visit me in my dreams even once. My dreams are only filled with Tyler Cole, that smirk on his lips, that mocking look in his eyes, laughing as he asks me: “Have you no shame, Maya?” Every time I scream back that I do, I wake up. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and started packing. After numbing myself through their funerals back then, I left that town. I went to a new city, working and studying at the same time. Working to pay for tuition and life was brutal. But I didn’t dare let myself stop. If I stopped, I’d cry. I went to a hospital, and the doctor said I had severe depression. He said I needed someone to help me pull myself out of that day. But there was no one like that… After being gone for eight years, the urge to go back has grown stronger lately. I want to see that river where they jumped. I want to jump in and ask them why they were so heartless. I’m just so tired… Since I was going back anyway, I decided I wasn’t against seeing my old classmates. So when the class president asked if I was coming to the reunion, I was the first to say yes. I haven’t spoken in that group chat in eight years. I’d deleted all their contacts, too. Including Tyler’s. 05 I bought a ticket for the earliest high-speed train. I felt lighter than I had in years. In eight years, not a single day had felt this peaceful. I looked at the scenery outside the window, smiling as I chatted with the young couple in the seats next to me. The girl said, “You have no idea how hard I had to chase him. So many girls wanted him, but I stuck it out for two years. Now, I’m taking him home to meet my parents!” “Are you so happy because you’re going home to see your parents, too, sweetie? I feel like the air itself gets sweeter on the way to see them.” I was silent for a moment, then forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m going home, too.” “Home… to see my parents.” I whispered the last part so softly only I could hear. But those words made me happy. I was going to… see my parents soon. I hummed a song the whole way there. After getting off the train, I went straight to the place the class president had booked. 06 Most people were already there by the time I arrived. As soon as I walked in, the room went dead silent. I casually took a seat in the chair closest to the door. I let the smile slide off my face. The class president adjusted his glasses to break the silence. “Maya, you made it?” I nodded. Brittany, a girl who always hated me in school, let out a sarcastic snort. “Wow, if it isn’t the valedictorian herself, Maya Evans. Hardest person to get a hold of. Seeing your face makes me lose my appetite. Someone should give Tyler a heads-up so he doesn’t show up today…” No one knew the real reason I dropped out back then. But they all knew I liked Tyler, and that I’d given him a gift. The girl sitting next to Brittany nudged her to stop. The class president frowned. “Brittany, shut up. Tyler’s been looking for Maya for eight years. He’ll just be happy she’s here.” Brittany laughed out loud. “Tyler’s a nice guy, okay? Everyone knows you have to apologize even if you just reject someone… “He’s been looking for her for eight years just so he can apologize. “Is it a crime not to like someone? Everyone knows Maya transferred school because Tyler humiliated her. You make it sound like Tyler actually liked her. “Doesn’t Tyler have a girl he likes now? I heard she’s rich and beautiful. What’s Maya got going for her, besides being pretty? A crippled dad? A house that’s literally falling apart? “Give me a break…” Brittany was getting cruel, and the others were starting to look uncomfortable. I stood up, my expression completely calm. Not angry. “I’m not staying to eat, so you don’t have to worry about your appetite, Brittany. I just came to see everyone. Now that I have, I’m going.” With that, I pulled open the door and walked out. The class president ran out after me. He grabbed my hand, looking intense. “Tyler really has been looking for you for eight years. You aren’t going to wait for him?” Tyler’s face flashed in my mind. So handsome. Such beautiful eyes. But when he looked at me, there was never any emotion in them. Just that smirk on his lips. I shook my head, smiling. “I’m on a tight schedule. When you see him, tell him I’m sorry. Truly… I am so sorry.” The class president froze where he stood. 07 After I left, I bought a lot of ritual spirit money. I burned so much of it at my parents’ graves. Enough to last them a hundred lifetimes. After burning the money, I went back to look at our old house. Everything inside was covered in dust. I didn’t clean it. I didn’t touch anything. I stood by the door for a long time until it was pitch black outside. There are no streetlights in the countryside. I checked my phone; it was almost 11 PM. I called a cab to take me to the锦江 bridge. The river was very peaceful at night. Occasionally, a motorcycle would pass by—delivery guys. I held onto my suitcase and stopped at the edge of the bridge. No one paid me any attention because I had a suitcase. They probably just thought I was tired of walking and was resting. I waited until midnight, until there was not a single person left around. I taped a note to my suitcase, climbed over the railing, and without a second thought, I jumped. In the second I fell, I might have hallucinated, because I thought I heard Tyler’s voice. “Fuck, don’t you dare jump, Maya!” 08 As I lost consciousness, I seemed to see Tyler again, wearing our high school uniform, leaning against the hallway railing under the dim lights. His jacket was loose around his frame, a lollipop hanging from his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, eyes filled with laughter. “Well, if it isn’t the class valedictorian?” I’d heard about Tyler Cole since my freshman year. The girls in class talked about him every single day. He was just that good-looking. His skin was fair, his features sharp and defined. There was something magnetic about him when he smiled—dangerous and alluring. When the classes were reshuffled sophomore year, I ended up in the same class as Tyler. He sat right behind me. After class, a crowd always gathered around him, chattering. I’d never had so many people around me before. I wasn’t used to it, so I’d always grab my water bottle and pretend to go refill it. Truth was, I was just hiding by the back door. And that’s how I heard them talking about me. “What was the advisor thinking? He knows Ty likes hot girls, but the only girl near him is the nerd valedictorian.” “The advisor is brutal. Everyone knows Ty dated a ton of cute girls freshman year. Now, he’s cutting him off. Maya doesn’t even count as a girl.” “Honestly, Ty, I have never seen anyone as plain as Maya. Who still wears those tiny, thin-rimmed glasses? Her bangs are so long they cover her face, and her uniform is always done up perfectly. She looks like a total grandma.” “Ty, you wouldn’t actually be interested in her, would you?” That question was followed by a burst of laughter. “Fuck off.” That was Tyler’s voice. It had that roughness of puberty, but it was nice. Then, he let out a short laugh. “Me? Tyler Cole? Do you really think my standards are that low?” I froze. I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and uniform pants, and suddenly felt a profound sense of humiliation. I kept my head down until they finished talking before silently going back to my seat. 09 My seat never felt like mine after class. There was always a constant stream of girls coming to see Tyler. And Tyler never turned anyone away. Later, the school added a mandatory swimming class. We had to order swimsuits—they were $180 a set. Before class ended, the teacher told me: “The valedictorian will handle collecting the money.” Brittany let out a quiet laugh and raised her hand. “Teacher, everyone knows Maya’s family is poor. Is it really a good idea to trust her with all that money?” My hands clenched under my desk. Brittany had hated me since freshman year. I didn’t expect to be in the same class with her again sophomore year. I usually lived by the rule of not making trouble, so I was about to tell the teacher to have someone else do it. Just then, a hand with long, elegant fingers appeared in front of my face. “Here, valedictorian.” I looked up. Tyler was looking down at me. His eyes were stunning. I was dazed for a moment. Maybe I stared too long, because the guy next to Tyler nudged him, smirking. “Well, looks like another one’s hooked.” That snapped me out of it. Tyler suddenly leaned in close. My pupils dilated. He smiled, a charming, dangerous look. He whispered right in my ear: “I know I’m hot, but valedictorian… “You are not my type.” I lowered my eyes, took the money from his hand, turned back to my desk, and nodded. “I know.” Tyler seemed stunned for a second. He raised an eyebrow. “Good. Stick to your books, nerd.” With that, Tyler stood up, grabbed his basketball, and walked out of the classroom. 10 The others didn’t hear what Tyler said to me. They just knew Tyler had stepped in for me. So they all handed me their money. Brittany gave me hers reluctantly, giving me a warning look. “Stay away from Tyler. Take a look at your own family before you go dreaming. You’re completely out of your league.” I ignored her, quietly collected all the money, and then used my own lunch money to pay for my swimsuit set. After counting the money and making sure it was all there, I immediately handed it in to the teacher. By the time I was done, it was lunchtime, and most people were already eating. I took a bun out of my bag and started eating it in the empty classroom. My head was spinning, trying to figure out where to find a part-time job to make up for my lunch money. If I asked my parents, they would give it to me, but I didn’t want to. While I was halfway through eating, Tyler walked in. He looked surprised to see me. I just glanced at him once before lowering my eyes and continuing to eat my bun. Tyler walked straight to his seat. Suddenly, he poked me. His voice was rough. “Done eating, nerd?” I shoved the last two bites of the bun into my mouth, turned around, and nodded silently. He leaned sideways, lifting his uniform shirt. His waist had a massive scrape that was still seeping blood. He tilted his head, smiling at me. “Help me put some medicine on this, will you?” I chewed the bun quickly and nodded. “Okay.” I walked over to his side and crouched down. I looked at the medicine bottle he took out of his pocket and frowned. “Why didn’t you buy iodine? Alcohol is going to hurt like hell.” Tyler let out a soft laugh. “Real men aren’t afraid of pain.” As soon as he said that, I soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and dabbed it onto his wound. “Hiss—” I looked up at Tyler. “Real man?” Tyler looked down at me, stunned for a second. Then he laughed. “Valedictorian, your eyelashes are really long.” It was an absolutely careless, casual comment. I knew that. I lowered my eyes, but my hand got a little heavier with the cotton ball. Tyler didn’t make a sound, but his abs were rock hard, showing just how much pain he was in. He finally couldn’t take it anymore. He said through gritted teeth: “Fuck, that hurts… be gentle.” I paused, and without thinking, I gently blew air onto the wound. After I did it, I froze. Tyler froze, too. Then, neither of us said another word. 11 After I put the medicine on Tyler, we went back to being like strangers. After class, I’d even see him walking different girls back to their dorms. There was a massive tree right in front of our dorm building. Tyler and one girl were standing under that tree. The girl was gorgeous—a senior. She stood on her tiptoes, pouting at Tyler. Just as Tyler leaned down, he suddenly glanced over in my direction. I immediately turned my head away. Tyler shifted his gaze. He just leaned down, pinched the girl’s cheek, smiled, and walked away. For some reason, I always found myself paying a little more attention to Tyler. Lying on my dorm bed, I thought about it and finally came to a conclusion. I just liked his face. It was nice just looking at him. Later, whenever I ran into Tyler with other girls, I’d immediately walk somewhere I couldn’t see him. Or I’d walk far behind them, keeping my head down. I figured that way I wouldn’t offend him. The next time Tyler got hurt, he came to find me holding the medicine bottle. It was his arm this time. He leaned one arm on my desk, raised his injured arm, blinked at me, and said, “Valedictorian…” I’d just picked up the medicine when I saw that senior girl walking toward us. I shot up from my seat so fast my head slammed into Tyler’s chin. “Hiss—Nerd, you don’t have to headbutt me just because you’re happy to see me. What if I get a concussion…” He reached out his hand toward my head. I backed up, dodging his hand. Seeing the senior girl getting closer, I hurriedly bowed to Tyler and ran off. Tyler was left standing there, his expression hard to read.

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My roommate, Sierra, loved to cam naked in our dorm room. Late at night, suggestive and provocative noises would constantly drift from her side of the room. “Daddy, where do you want to look?~” “Don’t be so impatient, babe… my roommate is asleep~” “You’re so bad~ tilt your camera down a little…” I gently advised her that camming with strangers wasn’t safe. If someone took screenshots, the consequences could be disastrous. Sierra took my advice and stopped doing it. But then, a girl in the dorm next door hooked a billionaire heir through a sugar baby app. He even rented a helicopter to drop rose petals over the campus to ask her out. It made waves across the entire university. Sierra went absolutely psychotic with jealousy. “It’s all your fault, you interfering bitch! If you hadn’t run your mouth, that billionaire would belong to me right now!” She heated her curling iron until it was searing hot and shoved it into my body, burning me to death from the inside out. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day she was camming. 01 I woke up from a phantom, agonizing pain, my body drenched in a cold sweat. “Daddy, where do you want to look?~” The familiar, sickeningly sweet, coquettish voice drifted from the bed opposite mine. I stiffly turned my head. Through the crack in her bed curtains, I saw Sierra posing seductively at her phone. She was wearing heavy makeup. The strap of her black lace camisole deliberately slipped down her shoulder. She had purposefully tousled her hair to create a messy, provocative look. My nails dug deeply into my palms. The pain told me this wasn’t a dream. I was reborn! I had returned to the day Sierra was streaming naked. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave. In my past life, I warned her out of the goodness of my heart. I told her that if the guy screen-recorded it and leaked it, it would ruin her life. Sierra’s face instantly dropped. She cared about her image more than anything else in the world. School had just started, and she didn’t want to become infamous for the wrong reasons. But giving up the camming meant giving up the digital gifts and cash transfers. She wasn’t going to let that go easily. She immediately put on a pitiful, victimized expression and faked a few tears. “Harper, I don’t want to do this either, but my parents completely cut off my allowance…” My bleeding heart took over. I immediately Venmoed her $500 to help her out. After that, she stopped the naked video chats. But instead, she started treating me like her personal maid, ordering me around constantly. If I wasn’t taking out her trash, I was making her bed. The worst part was my skincare products and my clothes. If she liked something of mine, she would just take it and use it without even asking. I endured it all in silence. I thought giving up some material possessions was worth it if it meant Sierra had changed her ways. After all, my family had plenty of money. But later, when a girl in the next class managed to snag a trust-fund billionaire through the exact same app… When the guy rented a helicopter to drop rose petals all over the quad to declare his love… Sierra went rabid with jealousy. And she took all her resentment out on me. “It’s all your fault, you interfering bitch! If you hadn’t run your mouth, that billionaire would belong to me right now!” She waited until I was asleep, tied me to the bed frame, and gagged me with duct tape. Then, she took a scorching hot curling iron and shoved it brutally inside me. The pain tore my soul apart, but the tape muffled my screams. Sierra’s smile was twisted and demonic. “Only a complete idiot like you would believe my parents cut me off! You got played like a fool, you self-righteous saint! You deserve to die!” It turned out she had been scamming me the entire time! The blistering metal burned through my flesh. My vision went black from the sheer agony. I took my last breath in the most excruciating pain imaginable. But now, I was back. I bit down hard on my lower lip, only letting go when I tasted the metallic tang of blood. In this life, I wouldn’t say a single word to stop her. I was going to let her swallow the bitter fruit of her own actions and fall straight into hell! 02 Inside her bed curtains, Sierra’s voice grew even more saccharine. “Don’t be impatient, babe… my roommate is asleep~” After a rustling sound, she lowered her voice. “You’re so bad~ tilt your camera down a little…” My stomach violently churned. I pretended to roll over, intentionally making a loud noise. Sierra jumped, poking her head out to look at me. “Harper, you’re awake?” I forced a sleepy, innocent smile. “Yeah, I just had a nightmare.” “Oh, I’m just FaceTiming my boyfriend right now.” She giggled, intentionally tilting her phone screen toward me. On the screen was a greasy, balding, middle-aged man, staring hungrily at Sierra’s exposed skin. In my past life, this was the exact moment I intervened and planted the seed for my own murder. This time, I changed my strategy entirely. “Wow, your boyfriend is so handsome!” I leaned in, faking absolute envy. “How did you guys meet?” Sierra was visibly stunned for a second, but then she proudly tilted her chin up. “A dating app, duh. He’s a senior executive at a publicly traded company. He said he’s going to buy me a Louis Vuitton bag!” She lowered her voice. “He loves looking at me… you know what I mean.” Suppressing my urge to vomit, I put on a worshipful expression. “Sierra, you’re amazing. I can’t believe you can pull such a high-quality guy.” Sierra floated on my praise. “Oh, this is nothing. I have guys lining up around the block for me.” She paused, shooting me a condescending glance. “But don’t get any ideas. A boring block of wood like you couldn’t handle a man like this even if you tried.” “I could never compare to you,” I said. I lowered my head, pretending to be insecure, while I sneered coldly on the inside. For the next few days, I played the perfect role of Sierra’s ultimate fan. When she cammed, I stood guard at the door. When she went on dates, I signed her in for attendance at lectures. When she bragged, I gassed her up at the exact right moments. Sierra began to trust me more and more. She even started shamelessly showing off her “prey” to me. 03 But as time went on, Sierra’s prey started showing their true colors. The bald guy who promised her a Louis Vuitton bag blocked her the second he got a full-body naked show. Another guy claiming to be a trust-fund kid sent her a pathetic $5 Venmo and then completely ghosted her. “What a bunch of broke losers!” Sierra slammed her phone onto her bed, shaking with rage. “They say they’re going to buy me gifts, and then they don’t even transfer enough to cover a decent dinner! Wasting my damn time!” I leaned in, faking concern. “Really? That sucks. I thought their Instagram profiles made them look super rich?” “Photoshop! It’s all fake!” Sierra’s chest heaved with anger. “They act like billionaires online, but they ain’t shit in real life!” I sneered internally. In my past life, she scammed me by saying her parents cut her off, and I stupidly subsidized her life. Then she turned around and used my money to buy luxury goods to flex on social media. Now, she couldn’t scam a single dime out of these guys. She deserved every bit of it! I let out a sigh and lowered my voice, acting mysterious. “Actually… I know a secret sugar dating app. It’s packed with legitimate millionaires. My cousin met her husband on there, and she married straight into extreme wealth.” Sierra’s eyes instantly lit up. “Really?! What app?” I acted hesitant. “But… I heard the verification process is super strict. They don’t just let anyone connect with the top-tier guys…” Sierra’s face darkened. “What do you mean? You think I’m not good enough?” “No, no!” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m just worried you might run into scammers.” Sierra scoffed coldly. “Only an idiot like you would get scammed. I know how to spot the real ones. Just tell me the name!” I pretended to hesitate for a moment longer before finally giving her the name of the app. Of course, I didn’t tell her the truth. It wasn’t a billionaire dating app at all. It was an underground, niche fetish and escort platform! It was a cesspool of deviants, scammers, and predators. I only knew about it because my older brother, a detective in the cybercrimes unit, had mentioned it to me. His unit had been monitoring the site for months and was waiting for the perfect moment to execute a massive raid. But until that happened, Sierra could go ahead and enjoy herself to the fullest! 04 Sierra downloaded the app and eagerly registered an account. She meticulously selected her most provocative photos, added some seductive captions, and quickly attracted a swarm of men in her DMs. Among them, a user named “Richie” was especially enthusiastic. He immediately CashApped her $500 as a “nice to meet you” gift. Sierra smugly waved her phone in my face. “See? Now this is a genuine, high-quality man!” I leaned over to look. Richie’s profile picture was him leaning against a Rolls Royce. His bio claimed he was the CEO of a boutique finance firm, and his feed was full of yachts and Rolexes. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. What kind of high-rolling CEO driving a Rolls Royce would be stingy enough to only send $500? And on top of that, he sent it in three separate installments? Only someone as sheltered and greedy as Sierra would actually fall for this bait. But I faked a gasp of amazement. “Wow, Sierra, you’re incredible!” She smirked proudly. “Just watch. I’m going to hook a massive whale this time!” That night, the noises coming from behind Sierra’s bed curtains were more explicit than ever. She was almost entirely naked, using her blanket to just barely cover herself. “Daddy~ Do you like me like this?” She intentionally dragged out her syllables. “Move the camera lower? You’re so bad! I’m not that kind of easy girl!” I fought back my nausea and kept listening. I could hear a heavy, ragged breathing coming from the phone speaker. “Get closer… yeah…” “You’re so bad~” Sierra let out a sickeningly sweet giggle. “When are you going to buy me the present you promised, Richie?~” “I’ll take you to the designer boutique tomorrow.” The greasy male voice took on a commanding tone. “But right now, moan for me!” Amidst the sound of fabric rustling, Sierra let out a high-pitched, exaggerated scream. “Ah! Richie, you’re so naughty… my roommate is right here!” My entire body broke out in goosebumps. My stomach flipped. In the past, Sierra used to lower her voice when she cammed. But ever since I started acting like her loyal sidekick, she stopped hiding it entirely. It gave me a brand-new perspective on just how degenerate she truly was. She had absolutely zero boundaries! 05 The next day. Sierra woke up at the crack of dawn to get ready for her date. She dug out a sheer, black lace dress and practically bathed in half a bottle of cheap perfume. She even meticulously curled her hair into bouncy, seductive waves. “Harper, how do I look?” She spun around. Her mini skirt was so short it barely covered her underwear. I forced back my disgust and put on a look of pure envy. “You look stunning. Richie is going to be obsessed with you!” Sierra gave a triumphant hum and swayed her hips as she walked out the door. At 11:00 PM that night, our dorm door was violently kicked open. Sierra stumbled into the room, reeking of cheap liquor and terrible cologne. Her black lace dress was wrinkled like a dirty rag. The neckline was ripped open, and her neck was covered in shocking, aggressive hickeys. There were even suspicious, dried white smudges near the corner of her mouth. “Look! The Cartier bracelet Richie bought me!” Sierra shoved her wrist right into my face. The rhinestone-encrusted bangle glinted with a cheap, plastic shine under the dorm lights. I took one look and almost burst out laughing. This fake was so bad it didn’t even qualify as a high-end replica. The logo was engraved crookedly, and the metal edges were sharp and jagged. But I dramatically covered my mouth. “Oh my god! Richie treats you so well!” “This is nothing!” Sierra scoffed proudly, adopting a secretive look as she pulled a small, pink remote-controlled vibrator out of her purse. “Richie said that if I wear this to my lectures tomorrow, and if I’m a good girl and do exactly what he says, he’s going to buy me a Birkin bag next time!” My eyes went wide in genuine shock. This was even more unhinged than I anticipated! But I forced myself to act shy. “Isn’t that a little… extreme?” “It’s called having a kink!” Sierra rolled her eyes at me disdainfully. “A basic country bumpkin like you will never understand how high society plays!” She waved the toy in the air. “I’m going to leave it turned on all day tomorrow, and Richie is going to be watching me on video call the whole time!” Looking at her twisted, arrogant expression, my stomach violently churned. This wasn’t a billionaire CEO. This was a complete, utter psychopath! 06 The next day, Sierra actually wore the toy to class. She sat in the very back row, her face flushed with an unnatural, feverish red. “Mnn…” A suppressed, ragged gasp slipped past her lips. A student sitting in front of her turned around in confusion. The professor adjusted his glasses. “Is the student in the back feeling unwell?” Sierra bit her lip and shook her head, but her legs clamped tighter and tighter together. Suddenly, her entire body spasmed, and she went completely rigid. The professor at the podium was right in the middle of a crucial explanation. “So, the solution to this equation is…” “AH!” A piercing, sharp scream interrupted the lecture. The entire auditorium whipped their heads around to look. Sierra jumped up, her face bright crimson, knocking her chair over with a loud CLANG. The professor frowned. “Is there a problem, miss?” “I-I…” Sierra’s eyes darted around in absolute panic, her legs trembling violently. I glanced down and saw a suspicious wet stain spreading across the fabric of her skirt. A few guys nearby were already snickering behind their hands. The professor’s face turned stormy. “Quiet! You, please step outside!” Mortified beyond belief, Sierra grabbed her bag and bolted for the aisle. I “accidentally” stuck my foot out and tripped her. “AH!” She crashed hard onto the floor. And that was when the little pink toy slipped right out from under her skirt. The entire lecture hall went dead silent for a split second, before erupting into deafening, explosive laughter. “Holy shit! She’s playing with that in class?! Legend!” “Oh my god! Who knew Sierra was such a freak behind closed doors!” “Record it! Record it! Put it on the campus Discord!” Sierra scrambled frantically on the floor to grab it, but her hand slipped, and she accidentally hit the max-power setting. BZZZZZZZ— A loud, aggressive buzzing noise echoed through the auditorium. She shrieked in horror. The toy slipped from her grasp, skittered across the floor, and landed right at the professor’s shoes. The elderly professor stared at the vibrating plastic object at his feet, his face going from red to a terrifying shade of purple. “This is an absolute disgrace! I am reporting you to the Dean for disciplinary action!” Sierra had a complete mental breakdown, grabbed her toy, and sprinted out of the classroom. I watched her fleeing figure, a cold, sharp smile playing on my lips. This is just the beginning, roomie.

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When my parents died unexpectedly my junior year of high school, my relatives circled like vultures, eyeing the estate and the insurance payout. They harassed me constantly at my front door. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I knocked on the door of my heavily tattooed neighbor. “Hey man, are you in a gang?” 1 The car crash happened fast. My dad died on the way to the hospital. My mom didn’t make it out of the ER, but she hung on long enough to say her last few words to me. She gave me the PINs to her and my dad’s accounts, told me where the deed to the house and other valuables were kept, and her final sentence was: “Don’t trust anyone.” She didn’t even have the breath left to say anything sentimental. She was in so much pain. She just looked at me with tear-filled eyes, and then she was gone. I was still in my school uniform. I had run so fast to get to the hospital that my shoelaces were untied, and I hadn’t bothered to retie them. I knelt numbly beside my mom’s bed, listening to the doctor pronounce her dead. Faced with such overwhelming grief, the tears just wouldn’t fall. I felt disconnected, like I was moving through a dream. Eventually, I took their shattered cell phones. Feeling completely numb, I followed my mom’s final instructions, transferring all the money from their accounts into my own. The funeral was organized with the help of my parents’ friends. They put me in touch with a lawyer, and the drunk driver’s insurance company paid out a substantial settlement. And then, the relatives descended. My uncle and aunt showed up wearing brand new clothes, their eyes gleaming as they stared at my family’s modest three-bedroom, 900-square-foot house. “Noah, now that your parents are gone, your aunt and I will move in to take care of you,” my uncle announced, taking charge after barely two sentences. “But your cousins will have to come too. Your room is the biggest, so the boys can share that. How about you sleep in that little room next to the balcony?” Our house had three bedrooms. The master was my parents’, my room was a decent size, and the smallest room—which could barely fit a twin bed and didn’t even have a window—was basically a closet. The settlement details were being handled by the lawyer and my parents’ mutual friends. My relatives didn’t know the exact figures or the timeline. My uncle continued, “You’re not eighteen yet. I’ll hold onto your parents’ settlement money for you. I’ll give you a monthly allowance, and when you graduate college and get married, I’ll give the rest back.” My older cousin was already in his twenties, and my uncle was desperate to buy him a house so he could get married. Last year, he had come to my dad asking for a loan. My dad lent him a few thousand dollars, but they complained it wasn’t enough. And they had never paid back any of the money they’d borrowed in the past. “No thank you, Uncle. I can take care of myself,” I said. Their expressions instantly changed. They launched into a long, dramatic speech, even squeezing out a few crocodile tears. They said I was my parents’ only son, they were worried I wouldn’t be okay, and that my parents’ spirits wouldn’t rest in peace if I was left alone. I still refused. I was 17. I wasn’t stupid. The two people who loved me most in the world were gone. This old house, located right next to some of the best public schools in the district, was a safety net my parents had built for me since they got married. I was going to protect it no matter what. My uncle and aunt spoke sweetly, but their eyes were calculating. When I didn’t cave, my mom’s younger brother and sister showed up next, also fighting for custody. Or, more accurately, fighting for the right to live in my house and control my parents’ settlement money. 2 No matter how good the soundproofing is, it can’t withstand that kind of screaming match. They were all trying to out-shout each other. They weren’t arguing logic; they were just competing to see who could be the loudest and say the nastiest things. At first, they tried to keep up appearances, but by the end, the masks completely slipped. My mom’s brother: “He’s my sister’s son, of course he’s coming with me! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting. You’re not getting a single dime of my sister’s settlement money!” My dad’s brother naturally shot back: “My sister-in-law married into our family, which makes her a Miller! Noah is a Miller! What’s wrong with me taking care of him? Sounds to me like you’re the one after the settlement money!” “…” I knew exactly what kind of people these relatives were. While my parents were alive, they constantly leached off them. Unless I had money lining my pockets, I would be nothing but a burden in their eyes. Suddenly, someone started pounding violently on the front door. Bang, bang, bang! The force was so heavy it sounded like they were going to punch a hole straight through the wood. The arguing abruptly stopped. My uncle cursed as he went to open the door: “Which blind idiot…” As the door swung open, his voice died in his throat. I looked past the other relatives in the room and saw a young man standing in the doorway. He was dressed entirely in black. He was very tall, and his tight black t-shirt showed off a massive, muscular build with sharply defined lines. More importantly, his entire right arm was covered in a sprawling tattoo sleeve. Right now, he was standing at my front door, looking incredibly annoyed, his eyes dark and menacing. My uncle, who had been so arrogant just a second ago, stuttered under the man’s intense glare: “Wh-who are you looking for?” The man spoke, his voice deep but laced with obvious anger: “Are you done screaming yet?” After delivering his warning and getting a terrified guarantee from my uncle, the heavily tattooed guy opened the door to the adjacent apartment and walked in, still looking furious. I was stunned. The apartment next door had been empty for a long time. The previous neighbors moved out after their kid went to college, and the place had been sitting on the market. It looked like it had finally sold. And that heavily tattooed guy was my new neighbor. After the door slammed shut, my aunt and uncle seemed to finally snap out of their daze, turning their heads back. “Noah, how do you have such a terrifying neighbor?” my aunt complained. I glanced at my other aunt, who was holding my hand and wiping fake tears, then looked at the rest of the people in the room—my mom’s brother, his wife, my aunt’s husband, my dad’s brother, his wife, and my older cousin. My parents had financially supported their siblings for over twenty years, yet they had never managed to get their lives together. Now, seeing me sitting on a pile of cash, I was nothing but a juicy steak to them. “Uncle David, Uncle Mark, Aunt Sarah,” I addressed them one by one, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I’m 17 years old. I can take care of myself. You should all go home.” “What does that mean, Noah? Are you kicking your own uncle out?!” “Your parents are gone! We are your closest family now!” “…” A bunch of people who were so afraid of chipping in for funeral costs that they only showed up at the very end… what kind of “family” was that? “My house can’t fit this many people.” I crossed my arms and looked at my uncle. “Uncle David, didn’t you say I should transfer all the money to you, and you’d give it back when I get married and have kids? I’m almost a legal adult. I could find a girlfriend very soon. If you all move in now, I’ll just have to kick you out when I get married. It’s too much of a hassle…” Before I even finished my sentence, my mom’s brother howled: “What?! David Miller, you told Noah to transfer the money to you?! Have you no shame?! You’re just trying to use that money to buy a house for your son, aren’t you?!” They started fighting again, though their volume was noticeably lower this time. 3 They all wanted to stay, and none of them could stand the idea of anyone else staying. Because my apartment simply couldn’t hold all of them, they eventually dragged each other out the door. Of course, even if they wanted to stay, I wouldn’t have let them. These people didn’t seem to care what I thought, even though I was the legal owner of this house now. After locking the front door, I walked back into my parents’ bedroom. It was still filled with their things, looking no different than before. It just looked like they had gone on a business trip. But I knew they were never coming back. The emotions, acting like they were on a delay, finally surged up and hit me head-on. I sat on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. The tears finally burst forth, and a profound, overwhelming grief swallowed me whole. For the first 17 years of my life, I had never felt this kind of loneliness. The stable, relatively happy life I had known turned out to be as fragile as a bubble, shattering completely. I hated the drunk driver. I hated him for driving under the influence, and I hated that it wasn’t him who died. He was going to prison and paying a settlement, but he couldn’t give me back my living, breathing parents. The tears fell freely, refusing to stop. Even though I was the only person left in this house, I still didn’t dare wail out loud. I just curled up in the corner and sobbed quietly. After that day, I started going back to school. But those relatives hadn’t given up on the fat piece of meat they saw me as. For the sake of the money, they didn’t even go back to their own towns. They rented cheap apartments nearby and harassed me at my front door constantly. At first, they played nice, saying they wanted to take care of me. But then my uncle brought up his son needing a house to get married and asked for a “loan.” My other uncle said he needed a new car. My aunt said her kid wanted to transfer to a better school in the city. It was like they had coordinated it. They were all trying to dig into my pockets, completely ignoring the fact that that money was the price of their siblings’ lives. They could play the victim, and of course, I could too. So, they finally dropped the act and started emotionally blackmailing me, calling me an ungrateful brat. At times like this, I was actually glad my grandparents on both sides had already passed away. I couldn’t leave my house without running into them. It felt like I was the one who owed them a massive debt, and they were the debt collectors. This couldn’t go on. I was incredibly annoyed. So, on a Sunday afternoon, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. When he opened the door, he was shirtless. He had short, messy hair and looked like he had just woken up. The tattoo on his right arm snaked all the way up his shoulder and onto his chest. It looked like a dragon. He looked incredibly intimidating. “Hey, man,” I suppressed the anxiety in my chest. “Are you… in a gang?” 4 After hearing my question, my heavily tattooed neighbor’s face froze for a second. Finally, he just looked at me blankly and asked, “What do you want?” His chiseled face had strong, sharp features. He was genuinely handsome. But the aura he gave off made it very easy to ignore his looks. I had been observing this neighbor. Most days, he left the apartment around 8 or 9 PM and didn’t come back until early the next morning. Occasionally, if he came back a little later, it coincided with me waking up early to study, and I’d hear his door open. The doors in this old apartment complex used heavy, outdated locks, so they were loud when they opened. I guessed this neighbor worked some kind of physical labor job because he was tall, incredibly muscular, and had an intense, aggressive vibe about him. Facing someone like him, I was internally terrified, but I kept my voice as steady as possible. “Hey man, I… I’m your neighbor. I live right next door. I was hoping I could ask you for a favor.” “Not interested.” He started to close the door. I quickly reached out to stop him. “Wait, wait! I’m not asking for a freebie. I’ll pay you! You don’t even really have to do anything. Just help me scare off a few people.” The tattooed guy stopped closing the door. He seemed to study me for a second. “You want to hire me as a bodyguard?” “…” That was basically the gist of it. Before I could answer, he said coldly, “If you’re getting bullied, call your parents. What kind of logic is asking a stranger for help?” “I don’t have parents anymore.” “What?” The tattooed guy’s tone seemed to falter, and his gaze landed on my face. “My parents died in an accident. Those relatives of mine are eyeing the stuff they left me, and they keep harassing me.” I looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. “Man, it’s the same people who disrupted your sleep the other day. You definitely don’t want to see them again either, right?” “Those people were here trying to shake you down?” The tattooed guy frowned slightly. “Yeah. One by one, they all owe my parents money and have never paid it back. Now they want to steal the settlement money my parents left me.” I nodded. “Hey man, what’s your daily rate usually? I’ll hire you for your daily rate to help me out, okay?” I just needed him to show his face when those relatives showed up and scare them off. The tattooed guy finally let out a scoff. “Do you even know what my daily rate is before you ask that?” I honestly didn’t, but I couldn’t think of a better plan right now. “Man, just give me a number?” I asked tentatively. Instead of answering, he asked, “When do those relatives of yours usually show up?” “I don’t know, but probably around evening.” It was the weekend; they knew I’d be home. My uncle and the others had been sending me long, rambling messages on WhatsApp, trying to guilt-trip me. Some of the messages were just nasty insults. Most of them were voice memos, and I was too lazy to even listen to them. “Alright. Go back inside.” I heard this incredibly intimidating neighbor reply. I walked back to my apartment feeling thoroughly confused, still unsure if he had actually agreed to take the job or not. Around 5 PM, there was a knock at my door. I was instantly on high alert. But aside from the knocking, there weren’t any obnoxious voices outside, and the rhythm of the knocking was different from theirs. I stood behind the door and heard unfamiliar voices talking. So I asked, “Who is it?” “Me.” It was my neighbor’s voice. I opened the door, and when I saw the scene outside, I froze. 5 There were several guys standing outside. Aside from my tattooed neighbor, there were three others. They were all very tall and heavily built. The biggest one had a buzz cut and muscles that looked like they belonged on a heavyweight boxer. He had a very aggressive face. Another one had dyed blond hair, was covered in accessories, and had tattoo sleeves on both arms. There was also a guy with curly hair wearing a tank top. He was thinner than the rest but looked equally intimidating. Most importantly, they were all carrying grocery bags. “Man?” I looked confused at the leader, my neighbor. He led the guys inside, and as he walked past me, he said, “I don’t have any cookware over there yet. We’re borrowing your place for hot pot.” With that, he navigated his way to my kitchen and led the group over. “Oh, right,” he looked back at me. “Leave the front door open.” The guys didn’t pay any attention to me. They just went straight into the kitchen and started prepping. They had brought a ton of meat and vegetables. Because it was too cramped, the biggest guy got kicked out of the kitchen. “Kid, why are you staring at me?” He caught me peeking and asked in a booming voice. I instinctively replied, “Man, your muscles look really impressive. I was just admiring them.” That comment seemed to please him. He let out a booming laugh. “You’ve got a good eye.” “Man, what’s your name?” I asked. Through a brief conversation, I learned that the big guy currently making himself entirely at home on my sofa was named Marcus. The blond guy in the kitchen was Jayden, and the curly-haired guy was Eli. As for my neighbor, his name was Jax. The smell of hot pot drifted out of the kitchen. I watched them carry out the pot, plates of meat and vegetables, and two large bowls of dipping sauce. In the short time they had been here, they looked more like the homeowners than I did. “Kid, why are you just standing there? Come eat! Don’t be shy in your own house,” Marcus called out. “…” The broth was incredibly spicy. I was inhaling sharply as I ate. It was hot, but it smelled amazing. The tattooed guy sitting next to me cracked open a can of Coke with one hand, popped a straw in it, and handed it to me. “Can’t handle spice?” “Jax, I’m fine.” I had heard the others calling him that. “I love it, I’m just not very good at handling heat.” Jax didn’t care how I knew his name. He got up, poured me a glass of ice water, and set it in front of me. “If you can’t handle the spice, just rinse the food off before you eat it.” His action, however, stunned the other three guys. The blond guy complained, “Jax, last time I had a breakout and didn’t want to eat spicy food, you told me to go eat at a separate table…” The curly-haired guy chimed in with the same tone: “Jax, remember when you said picky eaters can get out…” Marcus just laughed loudly. Jax scoffed. “What, you want to kick the homeowner out while you’re eating at his house? Are you guys trying to stage a mutiny?” The others teased him a bit more. When they opened their mouths, they were actually pretty easy to get along with. It was just their physical appearance that was easily misunderstood. Halfway through the hot pot, sure enough, there was noise coming from outside. 6 I heard several voices. “Noah Miller, you actually have the mood to sit at home and eat hot pot?!” My uncle’s voice came from outside. He had clearly smelled the food and saw that my front door was wide open. Then came my aunt: “The elders are suffering so much because of him! He has no conscience!” “…” The group walked in, looking unified, like they had coordinated their approach beforehand. They all wanted to extract money from me. However, when they gathered at the doorway and looked inside, the four adult men sitting next to me all looked up and stood up simultaneously. They were all very tall, and unlike my uncle’s flabby weight, this was pure, gym-built muscle. The intimidating aura of these guys standing together was off the charts. “Noah Miller, who are these people you’re hanging out with?!” “If your parents knew you were acting like this, they’d be rolling in their graves!” “You’re young and naive. You won’t be able to hold onto the money your parents left you for long. You’ll probably blow it all on these shady friends of yours!” “…” They felt they held the moral high ground as they walked in. Jax and his friends took two steps forward. Just those two steps made my relatives retreat a few paces in fear. “Noah Miller, what is the meaning of this? Did you hire these thugs to intimidate your elders?” my aunt spoke up first. She had a sharp tongue, but even she was intimidated by these tall, intimidating strangers. Jax looked at them and spoke first: “Since you people are the ‘elders,’ the kid’s parents recently passed away, and he’s all alone. We’re not even asking you to provide any help, but shouldn’t you at least pay back the money his parents lent you?” My relatives had never, ever considered the concept of “paying back” the money. Hearing this, their expressions varied wildly. “What money? When did they ever lend me money?” My mom’s brother was the first to deny it, swearing up and down that it never happened. Then came my dad’s brother’s wife: “Noah’s dad transferred money to us a few years ago, but wasn’t that the allowance money for his grandparents before they passed away? We never borrowed money!” My other aunt had a similar excuse ready. I felt numb. Even though I already knew exactly what kind of people they were, I still felt that my parents’ sacrifices were completely unworthy of them. “I still have my parents’ phones. The text message logs say otherwise,” I spoke up suddenly. “And Uncle David, did you forget? You borrowed five thousand dollars from my parents the year before last, and you even signed an IOU. Do you want me to bring out the chat logs and the IOU to confront you?” Their eyes widened. They had been showing up constantly lately just to extract money. How could they possibly agree to lose money now? Actually, no matter how sweet they sounded when they borrowed the money, they never had any intention of paying it back. The front door suddenly slammed shut. They looked back and realized that the curly-haired guy had circled behind them and locked the door without them noticing. Jax: “If the debts aren’t settled today, no one is leaving.” My relatives instantly panicked and turned to try and open the door to leave. Naturally, that wasn’t happening. “What do you think you’re doing?! Believe it or not, I’ll call the police!” Marcus laughed. “Call ’em. Let the cops come and see who’s really being shameless. Paying back debts is a basic rule of society. He has proof you owe him money. Suing you in small claims court wouldn’t be hard at all.” Seeing that they couldn’t reason their way out of this, my uncle turned his gaze back to me. “Noah Miller, is this how you treat your own flesh and blood? Letting them bully us?” He tried to sound self-righteous. “Are you even a Miller anymore?!” 7 “Not anymore, Uncle. You never treated me like a human being anyway,” I said flatly. Marcus burst out laughing at that. “You’re a pretty funny kid.” These guys blocking the door was still very intimidating. My relatives, who usually relied on their status as “elders” to be arrogant, were terrified. They eventually coughed up a few hundred dollars each. They muttered about paying the rest in installments. As Jax watched them transfer the money to me, he added one sentence: “Put ‘Debt Repayment’ in the memo line.” Only then did he open the door and let them go. I looked at the extra couple of thousand dollars in my phone, feeling relieved. I knew full well that “paying in installments” was just a lie to get out the door. But they had come here not only failing to extort me, but actually losing money themselves. It felt incredible. “Guys, you were amazing!” Marcus waved his hand. “Ah, people like them just bully you because you’re young and have a thin skin. The second they run into real trouble, they panic. You and Jax are neighbors; I doubt they’ll dare show their faces around here again.” Eli clicked his tongue. “A bunch of fully grown adults with working arms and legs, targeting a kid’s house and wallet. Shameless!” “We see this kind of thing all the time,” Jayden said, sitting down and continuing to eat. “Scumbags who only pick on the weak.” They went back to happily eating. After they finished, they wiped their mouths, said goodbye to Jax, and left, saying they had to get to work. I looked at my tattooed neighbor and asked, “Jax, how much do I owe you guys for the day rate?” He hadn’t told me their daily rate yet. Jax glanced at me, then glanced at the table. “You clean up. Keep your money. Don’t go around telling people how much cash you have.” He didn’t want my money, and his friends seemed to have just come over for hot pot before strolling away. They left a huge bag of unfinished drinks and snacks at my place. It wasn’t until Jax was about to leave that I finally snapped out of it and stopped him to exchange contact info. I originally didn’t know what he did for a living. Seeing him leave late and come back early, it wasn’t until I saw a post online one day that I realized he was a bartender at a nearby club. So he wasn’t in a gang after all. I thought back to my initial impression of him and felt a little guilty. Jax had truly done me a massive favor. After that day, terrified of being hounded for the debt, my uncle and the others made a silent pact to stop harassing me. Another weekend rolled around. I texted him in advance, wanting to treat him and the other three guys to dinner. I checked his club’s operating hours; there was plenty of time for dinner beforehand. At first, Jax just replied with one word: [Unnecessary]. I insisted, and he finally compromised, telling me to send him the restaurant address and time, and he would notify the other three. Around the agreed-upon time, I knocked on the door next door. A man wearing a burgundy dress shirt stepped out. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top buttons were undone, leaving his collar open. The tattoos on his right arm and chest were faintly visible. He was also wearing a silver cross necklace. Jax smelled like expensive cologne. “Let’s go,” he said to me. 8 I picked a place not too far from the club where he worked. I chose it intentionally. I booked early, so we even got a private room. The other three guys arrived early. “Noah’s here? Come sit. We’re riding your coattails today.” I walked over and smiled at them. “No way, Marcus. I’m the one who owes you guys. Things have been so much quieter lately. Please, don’t be polite.” As their eyes landed on Jax, Eli suddenly let out a low whistle. “Jax, dressing up this flashy just to grab dinner with our boy?” Jax lightly kicked his shin, not using much force. “Shut up. This is my work uniform.” The other three instantly burst into laughter. Work uniform? Seeing my confusion, Eli threw his arm around my shoulder and explained: “Noah, Jax opened a club with some partners. Jayden and I are in the house band, Marcus handles security. Right now, they’re short-staffed, and good, high-quality bartenders are hard to find. So he stepped in himself. Now, men and women alike just stare at his face and come in to spend money on eye candy.” Jayden smirked. “Jax is basically the face of the club now. Anyone else can call out sick, but he can’t. Every night, rich guys and girls come in asking if he needs money or a sugar daddy/mommy.” Jax shoved a piece of watermelon into his mouth. “Stop corrupting the kid!” “17 isn’t a kid! I’d had two serious relationships by the time I was 17!” Jax: “That’s why you didn’t get into college.” “…Bro, really? Hitting me with the academic insult?” Jayden protested. “You went to college, and now you’re working the same job as me?” “Food isn’t enough to shut your mouth!” “…” I had ordered the food in advance, and it didn’t take long for the waiter to start bringing out the dishes. Halfway through the meal, Jax stepped out to use the restroom. When he didn’t come back right away, I stepped out too. I passed by the front desk and saw him trying to pay the bill, only to be told it had already been settled. He turned around, and our eyes met. I grinned widely at him. “Jax, I said I was treating. I paid ages ago.” Jax: “…” “Who lets a minor pay the bill when a bunch of adults go out?” he muttered. A moment later, he couldn’t help but add, “You’re so young, where did you learn to play the networking game like this?” “My mom taught me. If you’re going to treat someone to a meal, you have to show genuine sincerity.” Jax reached out and patted my head. “What does a high school kid need with all this social maneuvering? Focus on studying, that’s the right path.” After we finished eating, the other three guys asked if I wanted to come hang out at their club. Jayden said, “Noah, our club is actually really fun. There are lots of hot guys and girls. You’re so good-looking, you’d definitely be popular…” Before he could finish, Jax cut him off: “Noah, I’ll walk you home.” He also shot Jayden a glare. “Jayden, stop being a bad influence.” “Jax, why are you so tense? If people didn’t know better, they’d think we run a sketchy underground club!” Jax: “…” After this dinner, I definitely felt closer to my new neighbor, but we still didn’t have much overlap in our daily lives. I was a student; he was a club owner and bartender. We were fundamentally on two different paths. I finally gradually got used to living alone—going to school every day and coming home to an empty house. Until summer break arrived. 9 I spent more time at home, mostly just grinding through practice tests. The neighbor’s club was doing great business. He usually didn’t get home until nearly 6 AM. One night, I had insomnia and couldn’t sleep until 4 AM. While getting up to use the bathroom, I suddenly heard a loud THUD outside my front door. Usually, at this hour, any noise out there would only be made by Jax. I hesitated for a few seconds before carefully opening the door and peeking out. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway hadn’t turned off yet. Jax was collapsed entirely on the floor. I froze, then quickly stepped out and crouched down beside him. “Jax?” I called out softly, shaking him gently. Jax reeked of alcohol. He was clearly incredibly drunk. “Jax, wake up.” I patted his pockets but couldn’t find his keys. He didn’t react at all. He didn’t even open his eyes. The only thing I could confirm was that he wasn’t dead. I glanced down the hallway. I couldn’t just leave him passed out in the corridor. I gritted my teeth, used all my strength to pull him up, and half-carried, half-dragged him into my apartment. He was tall and solidly built. He was heavy. It took an insane amount of effort to maneuver him into my room. After taking off his shoes, I turned around, locked the door, turned off the lights, and went into the master bedroom to sleep. The consequence of insomnia was waking up late the next day. The sun was already high in the sky when I finally became lucid. The first thing I did was get out of bed and walk out to the living room. Jax was sitting on my sofa. I had no idea how long he had been sitting there. “Jax, you’re up early?” Jax turned to look at me. He was still wearing last night’s clothes. He rubbed his temples. “How did I get in here last night?” He had completely blacked out. Makes sense, considering how drunk he was. I gave him a brief rundown, including the fact that I couldn’t find his keys in his pockets. Jax patted his pockets again and finally concluded: “I probably left them at the club.” I found some spare, unused toiletries in my house for him. “Jax, I’m going to order some food on DoorDash. What do you want?” The sound of the running faucet in the bathroom stopped, and a voice called out: “Whatever you’re having, I’ll have.” When Jax came out and saw the takeout containers on the dining table, and then glanced at the stash of instant ramen in the corner, he asked, “Do you just survive on DoorDash and ramen when you’re on break?” “Is there a problem?” I looked at him, confused. During the school year, I could eat at the cafeteria. At home, takeout was just more convenient. I could cook a little, but my culinary skills weren’t exactly stellar. Jax didn’t say anything else. After eating, he grabbed his phone, sent a message to someone, and then left, taking the trash with him. I thought it was just a perfectly ordinary day until the next evening when Jax sent me a text: [Come over for dinner]. ? It was my first time inside Jax’s apartment. There were several dishes set out on the dining table. The aroma was incredible. Jax, wearing a black tank top, carried a bowl of soup out of the kitchen. “Sit down.” “Jax, you know how to cook?” I was still a little shocked. Jax gave a non-committal “Mhm,” and placed a ladle of soup in front of me. “Eat up. I can’t finish all this by myself.” None of the dishes on the table were bad. I ate while giving Jax a thumbs-up. “Jax, you’re amazing!” Jax didn’t even try to be modest. He pulled a corner of his mouth into a smirk. “Obviously.” I hadn’t experienced the feeling of eating a home-cooked meal like this in a very long time. Even though it was at a neighbor’s house, it still made me feel incredibly moved. I buried my head and ate voraciously. Jax didn’t seem to notice the emotional shift in my mood. From that day on, my heavily tattooed neighbor would occasionally show off his culinary skills and invite me over to eat.

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Every day, it felt like there was a line of girls trying to win over my deskmate. Cheerleaders, prom queens, the most popular girls in school—they all flocked to him. But my quiet, brooding deskmate? He didn’t have an ounce of chivalry in his body. He’d look dead into the eyes of these gorgeous girls and spit out a single word: “Leave.” It was always dripping with pure, unadulterated annoyance and apathy. Yet, that same guy would turn around, pin me against the lockers, and look at me with dark, intense eyes. His voice would carry a desperate, almost pleading edge: “Don’t like anyone else. Please.” 1 I’m just an average, background-character kind of girl. Average family, average grades, average looks—maybe cute on a good day, but definitely nothing special. My life was a predictable loop: school, homework, home. Everything was incredibly, agonizingly ordinary. I went through the motions every single day, completely content with my routine. Until, one day, I realized my life wasn’t so ordinary anymore. It all started in my junior year, when the teacher assigned me a new deskmate. His name was Arthur. He was the valedictorian, the school’s resident bad-boy genius, and undeniably gorgeous. He had a quiet, brooding personality and constantly radiated a dark, “don’t-mess-with-me” aura. He looked like he hated the world. But that didn’t matter, because he was hot, and he was smart. Naturally, he was the target of countless teenage crushes. Except for me. I had zero interest in him. My crush was on the sunny, outgoing quarterback from the class next door. Which is exactly why the teacher made Arthur my deskmate. Why didn’t she pair him with a guy? Because Arthur apparently had severe mysophobia—he was a massive germaphobe. If someone even brushed against him, he’d act like a layer of his skin had been peeled off. His face would instantly turn like thunder. Teenage boys are full of testosterone. One wrong look, and a fight would break out. With girls, he’d hold back from throwing punches, but his mouth was lethal. He’d verbally decimate them. So, I became the safest, most logical choice to sit next to Arthur. 2 My designated “persona” in class was quiet and a bit slow. Sitting next to Arthur, we minded our own business. We coexisted in total peace. We didn’t talk. We didn’t even say hi. We kept our textbooks stacked in the middle of the desk like a demilitarized zone. We had basically zero interaction. Even though his temper was notoriously bad, every morning, there would be new love letters on his desk. And every single time… he shoved them into his backpack. At first, he threw them in the trash, but people would dig them out and read them aloud. After that, he just started taking them all home. I assumed he was taking them home for a mass bonfire. Arthur never lacked girls chasing him, but recently, I’d noticed something very strange. Every few weeks, a different, highly popular girl would suddenly start making her presence known to him, trying aggressively to get his attention. And every time they failed, it was like a switch flipped. They turned into completely different people. Their personalities would change entirely. Driven by a bizarre sense of curiosity, I started observing them like a detached spectator. 3 “Arthur, I really don’t understand this calculus problem. Could you help me with it?” The girl speaking was Chloe, the captain of the debate team. She was delicate and pretty, like a daffodil. She stood next to Arthur, placing her textbook on his desk, her voice laced with manufactured shyness. Arthur slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze freezing cold. “I don’t know how to do it.” That was a blatant, bald-faced lie. He got a perfect score on every single math test. I had never seen his grade fluctuate. The smile on Chloe’s face stiffened. “Oh… okay, then.” I watched her maintain her smile and tactfully walk away. Based on the look in her eyes, I guessed she wouldn’t give up that easily. Sure enough, during P.E. class that afternoon, I saw her approach Arthur, who was resting under the shade of an oak tree, and hand him a bottle of water. “Arthur, you must be thirsty. Have some water.” “I’m not thirsty.” Arthur rejected her flat out. He then reached down, picked up his own water bottle from the grass, twisted the cap off, and took a drink. I saw Chloe clench her fists tightly behind her back. “That’s okay. I’ll just leave it here. You can drink it later if you want.” Chloe maintained her perfect, polite smile and walked away. The cool breeze under the tree rustled Arthur’s dark hair, brushing it away from his forehead. His profile looked like it was carved from marble. At an age where he should be full of youthful energy, his eyes were clouded with a heavy, suffocating darkness. He looked lifeless. Suddenly, he turned his head and caught me staring. I casually looked away, staring blankly at the clouds in the sky, acting like nothing had happened. 4 At the end of P.E. class, as we were lining up to be dismissed. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp and stumbled forward. She was standing directly in front of Arthur. However, she vastly underestimated Arthur’s coldness. He smoothly took a step to the side, watching with absolute indifference as Chloe crashed hard onto the track. His hands, hanging loosely by his sides, didn’t even twitch with a reflex to catch her. Chloe cried out in genuine pain. Her fake fall had turned into a very real, very painful face-plant. Arthur looked down at her from above. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth looked exactly like he was watching a clown perform a stupid trick. Starting the next day, Chloe gave up. She went back to being her normal self and stopped revolving her life around Arthur. While the teacher lectured passionately at the front of the room, the boy next to me was scribbling equations I couldn’t even begin to understand on scrap paper. Dense, complicated, and entirely incomprehensible. I noticed that whenever he was writing these formulas, his entire aura shifted. A rare, intense spark of life would ignite in his usually dead eyes. 5 Today was the day the midterm grades were posted. The entire junior class was buzzing. Arthur, who had maintained an iron grip on the number one spot since freshman year, finally had a rival. There were two students tied for first place! Right next to Arthur’s name on the ranking board was the name of a girl. Like a dark horse, she shocked everyone. The classroom was full of whispers, everyone gossiping about this new academic powerhouse. Arthur sat at his desk, completely unfazed. I looked down at my own math test—which the teacher had just finished reviewing—staring at the barely-passing grade. I let out a quiet, pathetic sigh. My sigh caught Arthur’s attention. His gaze shifted to my score. There was no disdain, no arrogance. Just a very calm, flat look. But I still discreetly flipped my test over. Looking at the perfect 100 on his test, I was genuinely jealous. The disparity between humans is truly staggering. During the break after morning announcements, a girl intercepted Arthur in the hallway. She had a high ponytail, sharp features, and was stunningly beautiful. Like a rose with thorns. “Are you Arthur?” “I tied with you for first place on the midterms! I just wanted to let you know, next time, my name is going to be above yours!” The “Rose” tilted her chin up, arrogantly declaring war on Arthur. Arthur stared at her. For a split second, I actually thought he was captivated by her beauty. But then, a flash of deep annoyance crossed his eyes. Without saying a single word, he completely ignored her and walked right past her up the stairs. The Rose’s face flushed bright red under the watchful eyes of the crowd. She yelled at his retreating back: “Arthur, don’t you look down on me! I swear I’m going to beat you!” 6 After that, the Rose always seemed to “coincidentally” run into Arthur. Every single time, she looked at him with fierce pride, her words dripping with stubborn, motivational clichés. “I’m going to crush you.” She was using reverse psychology. Trying to provoke him. But Arthur never took the bait. When the second round of midterms came, everyone was on the edge of their seats. They couldn’t wait to see how the Rose was going to crush Arthur. However, to everyone’s absolute shock, Arthur remained in first place. He got perfect scores in every subject! He even got a perfect score on the English essay! The Rose was in second place! After the grades were posted, the Rose confronted Arthur. “You just got lucky. Getting a perfect score on an essay is a fluke. I’m not giving up! Just you wait!” After delivering her speech, Arthur—who had never once responded to her—finally spoke. “You’re so annoying. Whatever you’re trying to do has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “You’re loud.” Arthur’s eyes were dark, his tone freezing cold. The Rose froze, trembling with anger. 8 The Rose went quiet. She stopped showing up. I was honestly a little curious about who the next girl trying to force her way into his life would be. Several more girls showed up over the next few months, each trying a completely different tactic to get close to Arthur. Without exception, none of them caught his attention. All they got in return was the exact same, single word: “Leave.” Among all these beautiful girls, one in particular stood out to me. She was elegant and quiet, like a jasmine flower. She was a transfer student. Unlike the others, she didn’t throw herself at Arthur the moment she arrived. For the first week, she made absolutely no move. But I knew she was definitely waiting for the perfect opportunity. Because on her very first day, during her introduction to the class, her gaze lingered on Arthur for several seconds. When it was my and Arthur’s turn to do classroom cleanup duty after school, one of the guys in our class reached out and grabbed a chocolate bar off Arthur’s desk. It was a gift from one of the girls. He hadn’t touched it; he just left it sitting there. At the time, the guy had asked, “Arthur, another girl brought you food. Are you going to eat it?” Arthur was wiping the chalkboard. He didn’t even turn around. “No,” he said flatly. The next second, the guy ripped the packaging open. “I’m starving. If you aren’t going to eat it, I will.” Arthur turned around. Seeing the chocolate already in the guy’s mouth, his eyes instantly darkened. He raised his hand and hurled the heavy, chalk-dust-covered eraser directly at the guy. It hit him square in the chest, sending a cloud of white dust into the air. “What is wrong with you?!” “I said I wasn’t going to eat it. I didn’t say you could touch my things.” Then, the two of them started throwing punches. The next day, they were hauled into the principal’s office. The guy swore up and down that Arthur threw the first punch. Arthur didn’t say a word about the chocolate. The principal told Arthur to apologize. He refused, remaining stubbornly silent. So, the principal pulled out the ultimate threat. He was going to call Arthur’s parents! Arthur’s fists instantly clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. I could practically feel the rage radiating off him. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just explain the situation with the chocolate. Teenage boy logic is truly bizarre. I thought about it. We were deskmates, after all. I figured I should probably step in and explain. Just as I raised my hand, the “Jasmine” girl abruptly stood up. “Principal, Arthur didn’t do anything wrong!” She recounted the entire story of what happened yesterday, clearing Arthur’s name. I looked at her, finding the whole situation incredibly amusing. So this was what she had been waiting for. 9 Half a month later, Jasmine was preparing to transfer to another school. She had failed. I was genuinely surprised. I didn’t know what had happened recently, but I had seen her and Arthur eating at the same table in the cafeteria. I thought she was special to him. That day after school, I was walking home and saw her turn into an alleyway. I remembered that it was a dead end. I was standing by a food truck, waiting for my crepe to be ready. The crepe was finished. I ate the whole thing. She still hadn’t come out. Hesitating for a moment, I walked toward the alley. Walking straight in, there was a fork to the left. As I rounded the corner, I saw Jasmine with her back to me, talking to an empty brick wall. Her usual quiet, elegant demeanor was completely gone. She was cursing and swearing. “What the actual fuck. I played this role for so long, and it didn’t do a damn thing.” “Does he have some kind of hidden mind-reading skill?” “He actually came up to me while I was eating and told me he knew I was approaching him with an ulterior motive, just like everyone else. He said he saw right through me from day one.” “I was holding back so much! I read so many ‘saving the broken bad boy’ novels before I got here. I analyzed the failures of all the girls who came before me!” “And it still didn’t work.” “This male lead’s difficulty level is SSSS. System, I am not doing this job anymore.” I stood hidden around the corner, stunned by the words I was hearing. Male lead. Strategy. System. My brain suddenly connected the dots, drawing a clear, terrifying line. I felt like I had just touched upon something massive. I slowly backed out of the alley. Under the twilight sky, a familiar silhouette appeared in my line of sight. The boy had his white baseball cap pulled low, walking on the main street ahead of me. On his pale skin, the bright red scrape near the corner of his mouth was glaringly obvious. He suddenly glanced sideways, his eyes meeting mine. His expression was dark and brooding. I looked at Arthur, my face completely blank. We stared at each other like strangers. After a brief second of eye contact, we both looked away and walked in opposite directions. Jasmine’s words kept replaying on a loop in my head. As I walked home, a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips. How incredibly fascinating. An orange tabby cat was sitting in the branches of the oak tree by the sidewalk. It stared intently at my retreating back, and I was completely oblivious. 10 The next day, Jasmine said her goodbyes to the class. As she stepped down from the podium, passing Arthur’s desk, her face showed a mix of frustration and resignation. The cut near Arthur’s mouth looked a little better, but it was still obviously from a fight. Jasmine wanted to try one last time. She placed a Band-Aid on Arthur’s desk. I was confused. Putting a Band-Aid on a wound that had already stopped bleeding? Was that just for aesthetics? I shook my head. Arthur picked up the textbook the Band-Aid was resting on and gave it a slight shake. The Band-Aid fluttered weightlessly to the floor. Jasmine’s face twisted. She stormed back to her seat, fuming. During the passing period, I proactively went over to Jasmine and placed a pastry on her desk. “A goodbye gift for you.” She froze for a second, hesitating. “Your name is…” “I’m Harper Davis.” “Oh! You’re Arthur’s deskmate. Thank you for the gift.” I smiled, completely unbothered by the fact that she didn’t know my name. In this class, I had almost zero presence. I always stuck to my “background character” persona. “Let’s eat lunch together later.” “Oh!” She was clearly taken aback by my sudden friendliness. “I’ll wait for you after school. We can walk out together.” I finished speaking just as the bell rang. I didn’t give Jasmine a chance to refuse. I turned and went back to my seat. During that class, the English teacher was losing her voice and decided to give us a pop quiz instead of lecturing. Halfway through the quiz, the boy next to me started rummaging for something. I heard the dry, scratching sound of a pen tip digging into the paper without any ink. I glanced over and saw my deskmate, his brow furrowed with intense frustration. I pulled a box of ink refills from my backpack. Just as my fingers reached toward my pencil case, I remembered his severe germaphobia. I hesitated. Instead, I slid my hand under the desk, holding the box out to him, lightly brushing his uniform jacket to get his attention. Arthur looked at me. He was silent for a moment before pulling a single ink refill from the box. I heard a stiff, awkward, “Thank you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402455”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Here is the thing about amnesia: it really messes with your perspective. Apparently, before the accident, I was the resident mean girl. A real piece of work. I found out via group text. I sent out a blast to my contacts: [Hey guys, super awkward, but I have amnesia. Who are you again…?] My phone immediately started blowing up. First, from my childhood best friend, the brooding, untouchable type I apparently used to torment: [Is this some twisted new game to torture me? I left dinner downstairs. Make sure you eat.] Next, from my overly protective stepbrother, whom I used to treat like dirt: [Are you still mad at me? I wired some allowance to your card. I’ll come home to keep you company tonight.] Finally, from the gorgeous, popular girl I apparently lived to harass: [Acting again? If you have amnesia, go back to sleep. I already signed you in for class.] Me: “?” Hold on. Did I misremember my own life? Based on these texts, I was living in some reverse-harem romance novel where everyone secretly adored me. 01 Doctors and nurses hurried back and forth in the hospital room, the air thick with the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant. I propped myself up, wincing as a wave of dizziness washed over me. A few feet away, a doctor was talking to a middle-aged man in a sharp suit. “How is she doing?” “Miss Davis’s amnesia isn’t too severe. She just seems to have forgotten certain specific people…” Listening to their conversation, I froze. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? “I don’t think I have amnesia!” I couldn’t help but interrupt. “I know my name is Harper Davis. My dad is Richard Davis, and my mom is Margaret.” The middle-aged man turned his head and asked me with a gentle, patient tone, “Then do you remember who I am, Miss?” I nodded quickly. “Of course, you’re our family’s butler, Mr. Thomas.” The man remained silent for a long moment, his expression complicated. “Miss… I’m your family’s driver. And my name isn’t Thomas. I’m George.” Me: “?” He sighed and turned back to the doctor. “Thank you for your hard work, Doctor. I’ll go contact her parents.” From their brief exchange, I learned that I had accidentally tumbled down the stairs at the campus library. After passing out, my classmates had rushed me to the hospital. When they left the room, I finally snapped out of my daze and started scrolling through my phone. Looking at the pinned contacts at the top of my messages, if it weren’t for my parents’ familiar numbers, I would have sworn I picked up a stranger’s phone. A contact saved as “Coldhearted Monster” happened to send two messages right then. [Be downstairs in thirty minutes to pick up your food.] [I’m too lazy to bring it up to your door.] I racked my brain but couldn’t recall who this guy was. I could only ask him: [Could you please buy me lunch?] He replied quickly, but every word felt sharp enough to cut. [Buying the princess her lunch is my literal duty.] [But next time, could you tell me in advance if you want food from off-campus?] [Otherwise, standing in line for thirty minutes really delays your dining schedule.] Wow. This guy was charming. But now wasn’t the time to eat. I quickly replied: [Never mind, I’m not eating today.] The other side went silent for a while. Even though I couldn’t see his face through the screen, I could feel a faint sense of anger radiating from his texts. [Is it because the breakfast I brought you this morning wasn’t to your taste?] [So you’re throwing a tantrum again, is that it?] I hurriedly explained: [No, I promise. I have amnesia T_T.] He mocked: [Is this the princess’s new trick to torture me?] Me: “?” Was I really that awful? Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I sent him a picture. [I’m really not lying. Look, I’m still lying in a hospital bed.] For a long time, there was no reply. I guessed he had either fainted from anger or was just too lazy to deal with me. I started scrolling through our chat history. This “Coldhearted Monster” routinely helped me pick up food, grab my packages, and buy me lattes. Sometimes, he even took orders to do my assignments and let me copy his answers for exams. But my attitude towards him was far from friendly. I always spoke to him in a bossy, commanding tone. A wave of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? “Harper—” The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a young man rushed in. He wore a simple white short-sleeved button-down. He had a clean, refined face with striking bone structure. Even the fingers gripping the takeout box were pale and slender. I stared at him, momentarily dazed. Some people might get amnesia. But their core appreciation for good looks never changes. My standards for my ideal type hadn’t changed either. I looked up at him and asked cautiously, “You are?” He stiffened. He pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and asked, “You don’t remember who I am?” I frowned in deep thought. “Are you the Coldhearted Monster?” His expression turned complicated. “…My name is Noah Wright.” Noah reached out, wanting to check the injury on my forehead. “You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?” Seeing me flinch, he stiffly lowered his hand, his tone turning cold. “I’m not worried about you. I’m just afraid that if you bumped your head, you’d try to pin the blame on me again.” In just a few short sentences, he sketched out a picture of how selfish and spoiled I used to be. The guilt in my heart deepened. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, he asked in a low voice, “You really don’t remember who I am?” I answered honestly, “I don’t remember, but looking at our chat history, you must be the guy who always runs errands for me.” Noah: “…Not exactly.” I looked up suspiciously. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “We are childhood sweethearts.” When I still didn’t say anything, Noah added flatly, “And yes, we were also arranged to be engaged when we were kids.” I was shocked. “What? But our chat history doesn’t look like that at all… I thought you were just a classmate I wasn’t close with.” Noah laughed out of pure frustration. “If it wasn’t for that relationship, who would be willing to run your errands every single day?!” “Who would go out of their way to buy you food and save you a seat?” I defended myself in confusion: “But you just said buying my food was your duty.” Noah raised an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah, isn’t it the duty of a fiancé?” Just then, George the driver walked into the room. He looked a bit surprised to see Noah. “Noah, you’re here?” Noah stood up politely to greet him, smiling. “I came to check on her.” George was about to find a chair to sit down, but Noah’s next words made him jump right back up. “By the way, George, Harper doesn’t believe that we grew up together.” “Tell her. Aren’t we already engaged?” George’s eyes widened. “Huh?” He looked at Noah, who seemed perfectly normal, and then at me, whose face was full of questions. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded with a complex expression. “Yeah… that’s true.” 02 The first person I saw when I woke up was George. Given how he had run around handling my admission paperwork and contacting my parents, I already had a certain level of trust in him. Looking at Noah’s expression, it didn’t seem like he was joking. I felt a secret thrill in my heart. My ideal type had suddenly transformed into my fiancé. I felt like I hit the jackpot! Sure enough, even with amnesia, you’ll still fall for the person you used to like at first sight. When George stepped out to take a phone call, Noah placed the takeout box on the overbed table and handed me some silverware. “Eat first.” I took one look and smiled. “What a coincidence, these are all my favorites.” Noah lowered his eyes, scooping some soup for me, his tone calm. “It’s not a coincidence. This is the exact menu you specifically ordered this morning.” Guilt washed over me. “…That must have been a lot of trouble for you.” Noah casually wiped his hands with a napkin, saying flatly, “It’s not like it’s just been a hassle for one day.” “I’m used to it.” I felt a surge of pity and tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s eat together then?” Noah’s body went rigid. He rubbed his nose and coughed lightly. “I only bought one portion.” I felt confused again. “Don’t we usually eat together?” Noah turned his head away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the window. “…We do, but I already ate today.” I didn’t doubt him, and my mind was finally at ease. While he was drinking water, I continued eating and chattered away with him. “Noah, actually, the moment I saw you, I felt like I remembered something.” He choked on his water, coughing violently. He almost lost his composure. “You remembered?” Noah’s voice sounded strange, lacking his initial calm and collected demeanor. I nodded. “Yeah, the first time I saw you, I thought we looked like a perfect match.” “No wonder we’re engaged. You truly are my destined husband.” I laughed. “And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven’t changed at all.” “My imaginary husband looked exactly like you.” Noah: “…” A flush of crimson slowly crept up his flawless face, and the tips of his ears turned bright red. Noah scrambled up so fast he almost knocked over the overbed table. Me: “?” Noah tried his hardest to steady his nerves, but his flushed cheeks betrayed his current mood. He waved his phone. “Um… my study group just sent a notification. I have to head back for a bit.” “I need to submit some data to my advisor this afternoon.” I urged him understandingly, “Then hurry back! I feel much better. I’ll just rest by myself this afternoon and I’ll be fine.” Noah nodded, softening his tone. “I’ll come back and check on you later tonight.” He practically sprinted out of the hospital room as if he were fleeing. I couldn’t help but sigh at how exhausting grad school must be nowadays. A message from an advisor was like a death warrant. George happened to return from the hallway. Seeing me alone, he looked surprised. “Noah left?” I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he said he’d come back to see me later.” George let out a sigh of relief and then discussed things with me. “The doctor thinks it’s best if a family member comes to the hospital.” “Since your parents are out of the country right now and can’t get back immediately, should I contact your brother?” Brother? I had a brother? Seeing my blank look, George gave an “I expected as much” expression. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back to me. “This is your brother.” I looked down. A profile picture of a beagle wearing sunglasses caught my eye. His contact name was: “Trust Fund ATM” The daily conversations in the chat were pitifully sparse, consisting almost entirely of his transfer history to me. And occasionally, if someone made me mad, he would immediately step in to fix the problem. His response speed was so fast, it felt like I had purchased a VIP premium service. “Harper, you probably don’t remember, but Mason is your brother. Not by blood, though—he was adopted by your parents.” “He’s three years older than you and has always taken great care of you.” George explained. I understood and sent a message to the contact. [Brother.] He replied almost instantly. He sent fifty question marks in a row. Although I didn’t understand what he was so shocked about, I honestly continued typing. [Are you free right now?] Trust Fund ATM: [I’m free! What’s wrong? Did someone bully you again?] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me their info, I’ll go teach them a lesson.] Trust Fund ATM: [Do you need pocket money? I’ll wire it right now.] Trust Fund ATM: [Also, what did you just call me? Can you call me that one more time T_T…] What a weird brother. What a weird request. But I obliged him: [Brother, can you come to the hospital for a bit?] He sent another row of question marks. Immediately after, a voice call came through. I’ve always hated answering phone calls. Even with amnesia, that hadn’t changed. So I mercilessly hit the decline button. Trust Fund ATM: [? Why aren’t you answering the phone? What happened?] Trust Fund ATM: [Are you a scammer?!] Trust Fund ATM: [Scammers rot in hell. Give the phone back to her, or I swear to God I will end you.] Me: […I just don’t want to answer the phone. Too lazy.] Trust Fund ATM: [Oh, then it is you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] He sent another row of question marks. It really matched his profile picture perfectly. Trust Fund ATM: [Then do you still remember who I am?] I was getting a little annoyed: [I know, aren’t you my brother?] Trust Fund ATM: [Yes, yes, yes!! I am your absolute favorite brother!!] Please don’t add weird modifiers to yourself, okay? I pretended not to see it: [If you have time, can you come to the hospital? The doctor needs to see a family member.] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me the address.] After sending the location, I added, afraid he’d worry: [Don’t worry, my condition isn’t too serious.] Trust Fund ATM: [Okay, your brother will be right there ^^.] I reassured him: [No rush, George is keeping me company in the room, and my fiancé just came to see me too.] There was a moment of silence from the other end. Soon after, another row of shocked question marks arrived. Trust Fund ATM: [FIANCÉ?? Who the hell is that!!?] 03 Not long after, Mason arrived in a hurry. He was still wearing a dress shirt and suit pants, but his clean-cut short hair and the stud in his left ear completely clashed with his outfit. “Harper…” Mason sat by my bed, his face full of emotion and expectation. “So, after your amnesia, you only remember me?” Me: “Uh, actually, I didn’t remember you either…” Mason: “?” I held up my phone in front of him and kindly said, “George told me that the person with this profile picture is my brother.” Mason glanced at the phone, his mouth twitching. “Why is my contact name ‘Trust Fund ATM’?” I felt like everyone I met today should be hospitalized instead of me. “If I knew that, would it still be called amnesia?” Mason: “I suppose that makes sense…” Even though my stepbrother didn’t look entirely reliable, he was currently my only family member around. I tugged at his sleeve and asked softly, “Brother, can I be discharged? I want to go home.” Mason’s heart completely melted into a puddle. “No problem! I’ll go handle the paperwork right now!” He walked briskly toward the door, then turned back and cleared his throat. “By the way, Harper, I forgot to tell you something.” I looked up suspiciously. Mason took a deep breath and whispered earnestly, “You’ve always called me ‘Brother’ at home.” … Half an hour later, I was sitting in the car heading home. Beside me, Mason kept asking, “Do you want anything to drink? Do you want some snacks?” I shook my head, smiling. “No thanks, Brother.” Mason: “Ah… then do you want to listen to music? Do you want to play a video game?” I continued to shake my head. “Thank you, Brother, but don’t worry about it.” Mason carefully savored the way I addressed him, finally withdrawing his gaze in pure satisfaction. I scrolled through our chat history and voiced my doubts. “Brother, why do I feel like our relationship wasn’t very good before?” Mason bristled like a wild dog with its fur standing up. “Who said that?! Who said that?!” I shoved the phone in front of him and said honestly, “I saw it myself. And my tone when talking to you wasn’t very nice…” Mason looked like he was about to cry tears of emotion. “It wasn’t bad at all! I thought it was incredibly nice.” Me: “?” Bro, are you okay? In the chat history, I used to boss Mason around like a dog. If there was even the slightest thing I wasn’t happy about, I inevitably cursed him out terribly. Yet Mason never fought back or defended himself; he just silently endured it. And at the end, he would even say: [Stop being mad, it’s all your brother’s fault. I transferred some money to you, go buy a bag and cheer yourself up.] How could I have been so awful! Mason started listing my virtues. “Look, normally when someone bullies you, you tell me to go beat them up. Isn’t that because you care about my health, worrying that I’ll develop a beer belly and become a greasy middle-aged man, so you make sure I exercise and stretch my bones?” “Also, every week you ask me to send you money. Why? Because you know I’d just waste it, so you cut off the waste at the source! Besides, the things you bought weren’t just junk; you bought gold and designer bags. What is that? That’s an investment! You were managing my finances for me!” “Even if you used to be a little blunt, it doesn’t matter. We’re family. As the saying goes, the words from the people you love the most hurt the most. You loved me the most, so I totally understood.” Me: “?” As the car drove into a gated community, Mason held an umbrella to shade me from the sun when I got out. He suddenly asked, “By the way, you mentioned earlier that your fiancé came to see you too. Who is that?” I smiled brightly and said, “He said his name is Noah Wright. Do you know him?” Mason fell silent. After a long while, he finally gritted his teeth and cursed. “Damn it. He stole my base.” “If he spouts any sweet-talking lies, don’t you dare believe a word.” “That guy might look pure and harmless on the outside, but he’s rotten to the core and a master manipulator.” Just as he finished speaking, a scoff came from ahead. “Are you introducing yourself?” 04 My eyes fell on the girl standing on the stairs. She had her arms crossed, looking at us with a half-smile. I looked questioningly at Mason beside me. Didn’t they say I only had one brother? Did I have a sister, too? Mason: “Uh… she’s… Stella.” As he said this, Mason carefully gauged my reaction. “She’s Maria’s daughter. Maria is the nanny who works for our family.” “Her house is currently being renovated, so Mom and Dad told her to stay here on the weekends.” Earlier in the car, George had mentioned that there was a nanny who had taken care of us for over twenty years. That must be Maria. Seeing that I had no reaction, Mason whispered in my ear, “We don’t need to pay attention to her. Let’s just go back to your room and rest.” “Don’t forget to take your medicine later.” Hearing this, Stella slightly raised an eyebrow. But she nonchalantly stepped aside to let us pass. As I walked up the stairs, I saw Stella still standing near the front door. Sensing my gaze, she lifted her eyelids and gave me a look. Stella was very pretty. The kind of pretty that would make people do a double-take if they passed her on the street. Her eyes had a slight upward tilt at the corners, adding an air of cool detachment. I tilted my head and smiled, waving at her. Stella looked stunned for a moment. Early the next morning, I received several video calls in a row from my parents. My mom was crying on the other end of the screen. I comforted and coaxed her, assuring her that the doctor could come to the house anytime to check on my recovery. They finally felt relieved. Right after hanging up, I heard a commotion downstairs. I shuffled out in my slippers and peeked over the railing. Both Mason and Noah looked furious. Meanwhile, Stella sat on the couch, watching TV as if she had all the time in the world. Mason gritted his teeth, glaring angrily. “You actually took advantage of her amnesia to say you’re her fiancé?! Do you have no shame?!” Noah poured himself a glass of water, acting like no one else was in the room. “I wasn’t lying. We were already engaged.” Mason looked like he wanted to punch him. “You call that an engagement?! Neither of you even showed up for the dinner! You used to act like sworn enemies, fighting every time you saw each other!” “You always hated it when she ordered you around using the ‘fiancée’ title. Why didn’t you mention that?” Noah considerately corrected the inaccuracies in his statement: “That’s not true. Before high school, we got along quite well. You’re misremembering.” “Is that the main point?!” Mason was so angry he could have fainted. “I have never seen anyone as shameless as you.” Stella, who had been watching for a long time, lazily chimed in. “You haven’t seen much of the world, then. I think you’re pretty shameless, too.” Mason: “?” Stella yawned. “You still insisted she call you ‘Brother’ when you didn’t even deserve a name in this house. Wasn’t your nickname always just ‘Hey’?” “And saying she clung to you the most at home? From what I saw, you were the one acting like a clingy stray dog.” Mason finally snapped back to reality, laughing out of sheer anger. “I was so busy dealing with Noah, I forgot about you.” “Stella, this is my house! Watch your tone!” Stella looked up nonchalantly. “I know. If your parents hadn’t asked me to stay, do you think I’d want to be here?” The tension between the three of them downstairs was explosive; it had become an absolute chaotic battleground. I hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “What are you guys talking about?” The three of them abruptly looked up at me on the second floor. Mason was the first to react. He quickly put on a smile. “Harper, we were just chatting.” Me: “?” Don’t you think your “chatting” tone was a little too vicious? I tilted my head, my gaze bypassing him to look at Noah behind him. “Noah, why are you here too?” Noah rightfully pushed Mason aside and walked toward me. His tone was much softer. “I came to take you back to campus.” Mason grabbed his collar. “You’re taking her? Am I dead to you?” They both looked at me simultaneously. “Harper?” Me: “…” My gaze fell on Stella, who was sipping tea, completely unbothered and acting as if none of this concerned her. “Stella, do you also go to Stanford?” She clearly hadn’t expected the conversation to suddenly involve her. She was taking a sip of tea and suddenly choked. She forced herself to remain composed, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and looked up at me with a complex expression. “Yeah, why?” I smiled, my eyes sparkling. “Then let’s go back together.” 05 On the way back, I could count the number of times Stella spoke to me on one hand. To ease the tension, George the driver kept giving me background information on her. I finally learned that Stella used to come over to play at my house all the time when we were kids. Even though she was the nanny’s daughter, my parents adored her. She had always been quiet and introverted, the complete opposite of my personality. George was so used to talking about it that he completely dropped his filter. “Harper, you and Stella grew up together. If there was some conflict later on, you just need to talk it out. You guys are still good friends.” I frowned slightly. “I had a conflict with Stella?” Two coughs sounded next to me, and Stella quickly changed the subject. She looked at me with her cold, clear voice. “Your brother said you have amnesia. Are you sure you’re not just acting again?” Before I could answer, George quickly chimed in. “Of course not! I was the one who handled the hospital admission paperwork for her!” Stella choked on her words and went silent. I watched her rest her head on her hand and stare out the window, wondering what she was thinking. I couldn’t help but whisper. “Stella, what kind of person was I before?” Stella didn’t turn around, but her words were directed at me. “Why don’t you ask Mason and Noah?” I cupped my face and let out a long sigh. “Half of what they tell me is true and half is fake. They’ve praised me to the heavens. I don’t believe them.” “So you believe me?” Stella turned to look at me, casually listing my offenses. “You were selfish, arrogant, bossy, and mean.” “If things didn’t go exactly your way, you’d throw a massive tantrum, like you were possessed by a demon.” I froze. Stella’s tone was flat. “Do you believe me when I say that about you?” After a moment of thought, I nodded. This time, she was the one who was stunned. “I think you’re absolutely right. I must have been a really terrible person before.” I said with earnest guilt, “I read my chat history. I definitely wasn’t as nice as those two made me out to be.” Stella frowned slightly, opening her mouth, but ultimately remained silent. “Then… did I bully Mason a lot?” I asked worriedly. “You stayed at my house often, you must know, right?” Stella didn’t pull her arm away even though I was tugging at it, which she clearly wasn’t used to. She paused, resting her head on one hand, and said casually. “Yes, Mason was your number one lackey.” “Whatever you wanted, he gave it to you. Even if you wanted the stars in the sky, he’d probably call NASA to get them.” “He spoiled you the most since you were little. But if he failed to do exactly what you ordered, you would either hit him or scream at him.” I subconsciously swallowed hard, my nose stinging, my voice trembling. “I… I hit him?” My palms throbbed faintly. I remembered Mason’s indulgent smile from earlier that day. I really wished I could punch myself. Stella shot me a look, her expression complex. “What are you thinking? Of course not punching and kicking…” I was dumbfounded. “Huh? Then what was it?” Stella waved her hand, sounding awkward. “It’s not polite to say. Just consider it the ‘reward’ you gave him.” “Anyway, he seemed to enjoy it.” The car pulled up to the campus gates. Stella headed straight toward the academic buildings. Halfway there, she turned around and asked me. “You have a class at ten. Are you going?” I rubbed my groggy head and asked guiltily, “Can I skip it?” Stella let out a mocking laugh. “Sure enough. Even with amnesia, the habit of skipping class is still in your blood.” I wanted to defend myself but had nothing to say. She truly was an expert in human behavior. “I’ll sign you in. If you’re not feeling well, just go back to the dorm and rest.” Stella waved at me lazily. “Go on back.” I quickly thanked her. I hadn’t expected Stella to be this nice. She wasn’t nearly as stuck-up as she seemed. I didn’t even know why I had a conflict with her in the first place. I actually really wanted to be friends with her. With these chaotic thoughts in my head, just as I turned around, I heard a barely audible sigh behind me. “Actually, you weren’t as bad as you think you were.”

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My husband told me to stop suffocating him. He said I should go find other men to occupy my time. Being the obedient wife I am, I went out and found three. Later, those three men demanded I make a choice and commit to them. So, being obedient once again, I asked my husband, Elias, for a divorce. But suddenly, Elias claimed he was madly in love with me. He fought the divorce tooth and nail. He actually cried while washing my underwear, pleading with me. “You can bring them here. The five of us can live together as one family. But divorce? Absolutely not!” So, I listened to Elias and didn’t get a divorce. And I brought all three of them home to live with us. I’m just an obedient woman. What did I do wrong? 1 In the seventh year of loving Elias Thorne, I finally married him. Just as I was filled with joy, ready to be the perfect wife, Elias cheated. He made the trending tabloids kissing a hot young A-lister. Looking at the photos felt like being struck by lightning. I went to him, crying, demanding answers. But he just looked at me with pure annoyance. “Alana, don’t you have anything better to do with your life? Is hovering over me every single day supposed to be fun? Tell you what—why don’t you go find some guys to play around with, and stop bothering me, okay?” I stared at Elias, utterly dumbfounded. The words coming out of his mouth were horrifying. How could I just go out and randomly find men to “play around” with? But I had always been obedient. So, I sought out Elias’s best friend, Bennett St. James. 2 Bennett St. James. The man the entire elite business circle feared and respected. Rumor had it he was cold, completely detached from worldly desires, and never let women get close to him. My hands were shaking as I typed the text. I wrote it and deleted it, over and over. Finally, I just sent: “Mr. St. James, do you have time to meet? Elias told me to… find someone to play with.” After sending it, I threw my phone across the room, my cheeks burning with shame. Elias’s best friend shouldn’t count as just a “random guy,” right? I just didn’t know if he would agree… Surprisingly, my phone buzzed almost immediately. Just one word: “Yes.” The location was a very secluded, high-end tea house. When I arrived, Bennett was already there. He sat by the window. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting light over his handsome, aristocratic face, making him look even more aloof and unattainable. His long, slender fingers held a teacup. The steam rose gently, blurring his striking features. The air was filled with a calming scent of sandalwood mixed with the aroma of tea. I was so nervous I was practically shaking. I sat opposite him, my throat dry. Every word I had prepared vanished from my mind. He looked up at me, his eyes calm as a still pool, utterly unruffled. “He told you to come to me?” Bennett asked after pouring me a cup of tea. His voice was beautiful, too. Like cool, crisp water over stones. I twisted my fingers together, lowering my head. My nose stung, and I nodded vigorously. “Yes.” Silence stretched across the room. Just as I felt I couldn’t sit there any longer and wanted to bolt, he set his teacup down gently and looked at me. “When you say ‘play around’… what kind of playing did you have in mind?” 3 Bennett St. James. The man who looked so cold and detached in public actually tried to ride me to death in private. “I really can’t do anymore, please…” I was slumped on top of him, completely exhausted, my face buried in his firm chest, my body trembling. Bennett’s thumb gently wiped away the involuntary tears from the corner of my eye. He coaxed me softly, “Okay. We’ll stop after we finish this box.” Hearing Bennett’s tender voice, I lifted my head, my vision blurry with tears, and glanced at the nightstand. On the nightstand was a box labeled “Trojan, 12-pack, Magnum Size.” I looked down at the trash can. There were already five used ones inside. That meant there were still… “Ugh, you jerk!” I cried even harder. 4 Bennett frequently worked me over until my back ached and my legs felt like jelly. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and secretly went to see a doctor. The doctor took my pulse, his frown deepening by the second. Finally, he sighed. “Young lady, you need to practice abstinence. Get some real rest for a while, or you’re going to shorten your lifespan.” Me: !!! What!! Doing it too much leads to an early grave?! I was terrified. I didn’t dare go see Bennett again. But since I didn’t go to him, he came to me. He actually showed up at the house I shared with Elias! When the doorbell rang, I was curled up on the sofa watching a reality show. Assuming Elias had gone out and forgotten his keys, I opened the door without checking. The moment I saw Bennett standing outside, I nearly slammed the door right back in his face. “What… what are you doing here?” My voice trembled. I instinctively tried to close the door. Bennett reached out and blocked the door frame. His strength wasn’t overwhelming, but I couldn’t move the door an inch against him. His gaze landed on my panicked face. He asked, “Why haven’t you come by to ‘play’ lately?” Play? You play so hard, who would dare to play with you?! “I… I’ve been a bit busy lately.” My eyes darted around, making up random excuses. “Busy?” Bennett raised an eyebrow slightly. He took a step forward, pressing into my space. The crisp scent of sandalwood combined with an oppressive aura washed over me. “Too busy to even answer your phone?” He forced me backward into the foyer, my heart pounding in my chest. The doctor’s warning about “shortening your lifespan” echoed wildly in my mind. “Mr. St. James, I really don’t think… this is appropriate,” I said, drumming up the courage to try and reason with him. “What happened that day was impulsive on my part. We should really…” “We should really what?” he interrupted. His gaze was calm, but held an undeniable weight. “Elias told you to play, remember? You’ve forgotten?” Mentioning Elias made me deflate instantly, like a popped balloon. That’s right. Elias made me do this. How could I not listen to him? But… I really was afraid of dying! Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Elias’s confused voice came from behind me. “Bennett? What are you doing here?” 5 Elias hadn’t gone out?! My soul nearly left my body. I spun around so fast I nearly tripped, my cheeks burning with guilt. I felt exactly like I’d just been caught in bed with another man. Bennett, however, remained completely composed. He turned to look at Elias coming down the stairs, his voice calm and flat. “Just passing through. Thought I’d swing by and check on you. I was just chatting with Alana at the door.” As Bennett spoke, his gaze drifted meaninglessly over to me. My spine went rigid instantly. Elias didn’t seem to sense anything was wrong. As he walked downstairs, he said casually, “What’s there to chat with her about? She just sits at home doing nothing all day.” Before, hearing those words would have made me sad for a long time. But now, my heart was filled only with panic, terrified that Bennett would say something outrageous. Bennett didn’t reply. He just looked at me, the corner of his lip seemingly curving into an extremely faint smirk that vanished instantly. Elias finished changing into his shoes and walked over. He naturally wrapped his arm around my waist and said to Bennett, “My brother is back in town. Since you’re here, why don’t we all grab dinner tonight? I’ll call Ryder Croft and some of the others.” My body went stiff. The spot where Elias touched me felt like it was on fire. He rarely made affectionate gestures toward me in front of others, yet today… Bennett’s gaze lingered on Elias’s hand around my waist for a fraction of a second before he looked away. He replied flatly, “Sure.” 6 Dinner was at an incredibly exclusive, private club. Besides me, Elias, and Bennett, there was also their good friend, the wealthy playboy Ryder Croft, and Elias’s younger brother, Liam Thorne. During the meal, I constantly felt like three separate sets of eyes from different directions were locked onto me. But every time I lifted my head, the four men across from me were chatting amongst themselves. No one was looking at me. Was I being too sensitive? I peeked at them again. No one was looking. I must be overthinking. I lowered my head and went back to my soup. When I finished my soup and was about to ladle another bowl, a bowl of hot soup was placed right in front of me. It was Elias. He was ladling the soup for me while chatting with the others. I was genuinely touched. I said sweetly, “Thanks, honey.” My voice was soft. Only Elias, sitting next to me, should have heard. But the other three men at the table stopped talking instantly. All of them stared straight at me. The look in their eyes… it was as if they were the ones I’d just called “honey.” And their gazes were terrifying. Like wolves looking at prey. I recoiled slightly and went back to lowering my head and sipping my soup. Elias seemed very pleased that I called him “honey.” He got even more attentive, peeling shrimp for me and putting food in my bowl. Seeing the other three looking at me from time to time, Elias even teased them, “Jealous that I have a wife? You guys need to step up and marry one of your own.” Ryder and Liam said nothing. But I noticed they were looking at me even more frequently! Only Bennett let out a somewhat wistful, faint chuckle. “I’d like to marry, but she already has a husband.” The second Bennett said that, the whole room went silent. I nearly fell out of my chair in shock. He couldn’t possibly be talking about me, could he?! Elias reacted first. His handsome brow furrowed slightly, and he reached out to steady me. “How are you so grown and still can’t sit straight in a chair?” Turning back to Bennett, he teased, “Alright, smart guy, so you’re chasing a married woman. Who cares if her husband agrees? As long as she agrees, isn’t that enough?” Elias slapped Bennett on the shoulder encouragingly. “Take it from me—no matter how sturdy the wall, a good sledgehammer can knock it down!” At Elias’s words, Bennett gave him a very meaningful look and stated with certainty, “You’re right, Elias.” Ryder and Liam also nodded in thoughtful agreement. Then they raised their glasses, called Elias “brother,” and toasted him. Elias happily accepted, even pulling me closer by my shoulder, laughing as he bragged to me about how the three of them finally got some sense and decided to call him “brother.” I forced out a smile, not daring to speak. Because I realized that underneath the table, three different legs were rubbing against me! 7 When dinner was almost over, Elias stepped out to take a call. I felt like a massive weight had been lifted. I immediately bent down to look under the table. Underneath, the three men and their six legs were all behaving perfectly. Me: ? Was I being too sensitive again? But the touch had felt so real. It didn’t seem like my imagination. While my mind was spiraling with wild thoughts, Bennett suddenly peeled a few pieces of shrimp and put them in my bowl. He said, “Eat the shrimp. I saw you liked it earlier.” Bennett’s single sentence drew Ryder and Liam’s attention directly to us. Their eyes darted back and forth between me and Bennett. Just as I started breaking out in a cold sweat, fearing they’d figured something out, Ryder was the first to act. He put a piece of fish in my bowl, smiled, and said, “I saw you go for the sweet and sour fish six times. You must really love it.” Me: ? Why did he even know how many times I took the fish? Before I could react, Liam placed a small plate in front of me. On it was all the meat from a single, perfectly butchered crab. “Eat mine,” Liam said with an innocent, harmless smile. “If you like it, I’ll peel all your crabs for you from now on.” Me: … What was happening? I seriously felt like I had fallen into a wolf’s den. 8 The three of them seemed to be competing to see who could give me more food. My bowl was never empty for even a single second. Eventually, I really couldn’t eat anymore. Since Elias had been gone to the restroom for a long time, I was worried he’d fallen in, so I got up and went out to look for him. After leaving the private room, I felt much more relaxed. I searched for Elias along the hallway. When I saw Elias out on the patio, and saw the lipstick mark on his white shirt, tears immediately poured down my face. “Why are you doing this to me?” I choked out, confronting Elias. “I did everything you told me to do. I was so obedient. And you still have to go fooling around behind my back.” I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. Was it that I still wasn’t obedient enough? Seeing me cry, Elias’s initial instinct was to reach out and wipe my tears. But for some reason, he stopped halfway. The pained expression on his face turned into annoyance. “It’s not what you think. And didn’t I tell you to stop smothering me? If you’re bored, go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. Use my credit card!” With that, he turned and left. I stubbornly called out after him, “If I listen to you, will you love me?” “Yes!” Elias snapped without looking back. I was left standing there, staring at his retreating back. So, it really was because I wasn’t obedient enough that my husband didn’t love me. As I walked back, lost in despair, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a pitch-black supply closet. I immediately screamed and burst into tears. “Don’t cry. It’s me.” In the darkness, Ryder wiped away my tears, sounding deeply pained. When you can’t see, your hearing becomes sharper. Listening to Ryder’s voice, I stopped crying instantly. His voice was deep and resonant. It sent a shiver down my spine. Inevitably, I remembered what Elias had just said. He told me to go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. I was very obedient. So, with a bit of a sob in my voice, I asked Ryder, “Can you… can you play with me?” “Do you… do you have any idea what you’re saying?” In the darkness, Ryder’s voice grew even huskier. “Mm-hm.” I sniffed. Seeing that Ryder wasn’t reacting, I started to backtrack. “If you don’t want to play with me, I’ll go find…” Everything I was about to say was swallowed by Ryder’s lips. He was wild, just like his name. I could barely handle it, but it felt amazing. Just as we were about to hit the point of no return, Ryder suddenly stopped. “Hmm?” I was completely dazed, looking at him in confusion. “I don’t have a condom.” Ryder leaned down, burying his head in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. The arrow was already notched, and now you’re telling me we have to stop? My whole body was wound tight and aching. I rubbed against Ryder, my voice trembling like I was about to cry. “But… I feel so uncomfortable…” After three seconds of silence, Ryder sank down to one knee. My breath caught. Suddenly, I felt like a song was playing in my head. … A විශේෂ Signal… Pushing toward a Flood… No escape… … 9 Half an hour later, I walked out of the supply closet with Ryder, my ears burning bright red. “Here. Wipe your mouth and hands.” I whispered, handing Ryder a tissue, my face scarlet. Just as Ryder was about to take the tissue, a dark, harsh voice suddenly rang out from nearby. “What are you two doing?” I instinctively looked up and saw Liam. He stood at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Those eyes, so similar to Elias’s, were locked tightly onto us—specifically on my obviously swollen lips and flushed cheeks. My heart immediately jumped into my throat. “No… nothing…” I instinctively crumpled the tissue in my hand and hid it behind my back. I said softly, “I just happened to run into Ryder…” Ryder was much calmer than me. He naturally pulled his hand back and slid it into his pocket. He took half a step sideways, unobtrusively shielding me with his shadow. He faced Liam’s scrutinizing gaze, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Just chatting. Why, is something wrong, Liam?” Liam took two steps forward. His eyes darted between the two of us before settling on my dodging gaze. “Nothing.” He pulled at the corner of his mouth, but the smile held no warmth. “Alana, it’s late. I’m taking you home.” “Oh, okay. Let’s go.” I didn’t think twice. I was about to follow Liam, but Ryder beat him to the punch, grabbing my arm. He chuckled lightly, looking at Liam. “Liam, you just got back to the States. You probably don’t even have a valid driver’s license here yet, do you? How are you going to take her?” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I felt like the atmosphere between Liam and Ryder instantly became hostile after that sentence. “It’s fine. I can call a cab for her.” Liam opened his thin lips, his gaze icy as he stared at Ryder. Ryder let out a low scoff. “Little boy, wait until you grow up.” With that, Ryder ignored Liam’s reaction and pulled me away. I looked back at Liam once. He stood still, not chasing after us. He just watched me with a gaze so complex I couldn’t understand it. I saw indignation, ambition, and even a faint trace of… vulnerability? 10 Ryder drove a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. It was incredibly spacious. I was exhausted and fell asleep in the car. Hazy in my sleep, I think Ryder stopped the car once to buy something. But I was so tired I didn’t pay much attention. By the time the car came to a complete stop, I was gradually waking up. I was home. Just as I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, Ryder grabbed my hand. He held up a small box and asked, “Want to finish what we started earlier?” … This time, the song played on repeat for four hours. By the time everything finally settled, Ryder straightened my clothes, got out of the car first, and walked around to my side to carry me out. Just then, we heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was Elias. He was completely wasted. His assistant was struggling to help him out of the back seat after parking the car. “Urgh… Ryder?” Seeing Ryder, Elias squinted to identify him. His voice was slurred. “Wha’re you doin’ at my house?” Ryder appeared perfectly natural. “Just dropped Alana off.” Elias was so drunk he didn’t even notice that five hours had passed since dinner. He slapped Ryder on the shoulder, moved by gratitude. “Tha-thanks, bro. Dropping off my wife. You’re… you’re a good man!” I got out of the car a step late. Hearing that sentence made the scarlet flush rise on my face again. I was too guilty to look anyone in the eye. “It was nothing.” Ryder smiled with airy indifference, as if the man who had lost all control in the car minutes ago wasn’t him. “Alright, well, go on home then.” Elias staggered a couple of steps. He leaned heavily against me, throwing his arm over my shoulder for support. “I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!” With that, Elias stumbled into the house, dragging me with him. I didn’t even have a chance to look back at Ryder before the door was closed. 11 It took every ounce of strength I had to haul Elias up to the bedroom and onto the bed. He must have been incredibly drunk. The moment he hit the mattress, he fell fast asleep. He only mumbled incoherently, “Baby… I love you so much…” Hearing his words, I was genuinely touched. It really was true: if I listened to him, he loved me more. I secretly made a vow in my heart. I had to be even more obedient from now on, so he would love me even more! 12 When I woke up the next morning, the space next to me was empty. Elias was already gone. I instinctively reached for my phone to check the time. It was after 10 AM. Then I realized Bennett had sent me a ton of messages yesterday. Bennett: [Where are you?] Bennett: [Did you just leave with Ryder?] Bennett: [Is it because you aren’t satisfied with me?] Bennett: [You can tell me if you aren’t satisfied. Just don’t stop playing with me, okay?] … Bennett sent dozens of messages. The further down I read, the more they made my face burn and my heart pound. I didn’t dare reply to any of them. Exiting the chat with Bennett, I saw that Ryder had also sent me messages. He told me to drink lots of water and stay hydrated. He also sent me ten million dollars via Venmo. After freshening up, I went downstairs, still in my pajamas. As I walked downstairs, still half-asleep, I suddenly froze and stared at the living room. Liam was sitting on the sofa, holding a coffee cup, casually watching TV. He looked so comfortable, as if he belonged there. He even greeted me naturally. “Liam? What are you doing here?” I asked in astonishment. Liam gave me a sunny, innocent smile. “I just got back to the States. I’m scared to live alone, so when Elias found out, he told me to move in here.” “M-move in?” I was utterly confused. “Yeah.” Before I could react, Liam put down his coffee cup, stood up, and walked toward me. At 19, Liam was wearing a white button-down shirt. He looked fresh and clean. He walked right up to me and looked down at me, his eyes filled with a trace of pitiful pleading. “Is嫂嫂 (Alana) not happy I’m here?” “I…” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think I was imagining it, but I felt like the way he looked at me wasn’t quite right. I felt uneasy about him moving in. Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Liam spoke again, his face filled with sorrow. “If Alana finds it inconvenient, I’ll go back to the family estate and live by myself! I’ve been used to being alone ever since my parents divorced and sent me abroad, anyway.” After Liam finished speaking, his puppy-dog eyes were red-rimmed. He looked at me, his voice choking slightly. “I’m sorry, Alana. I’m causing you trouble. It’s my fault. I just crave family affection so much.” Seeing Liam so utterly heartbroken and fragile, any trace of doubt or awkwardness I had was immediately swamped by a massive wave of guilt and pity. What bad intentions could he possibly have? He was just a pitiful child who wanted to live with his family! Elias told me to take good care of him, so how could I push him away just because I was being sensitive? I immediately reached out and stopped him from dragging his suitcase away. I said urgently, “You are not leaving! You live here! This is your home!” “Thanks, Alana!” Liam smiled instantly. His eyes sparkled, and all traces of sadness vanished without a trace. “You’re the best!” Just as we were talking, Elias rushed through the door. “Why are you back at this hour?” I asked. Elias looked stressed and overwhelmed. He was rushing up the stairs to his office, talking as he went. “There’s a sudden crisis with the major overseas project. I have to fly out immediately to fix it.” Five minutes later, Elias ran downstairs with a stack of documents. “Brother.” Liam called out to him. Elias only just noticed Liam, but he didn’t have time for specifics. He offered a quick greeting and headed for the door. Before leaving, he said to me, “Alana, take good care of Liam while I’m gone. I’ll be back in about a month. When I get back, we need to talk…” Elias was talking as he bolted out the door.

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Steven and I have formed an unholy alliance. Me? I’m the biological son, the one who was switched at birth and grew up in the sticks. I’ve survived by becoming a master of the “weaponized pout”—a high-end manipulator who knows exactly how to play the victim to get what he wants. Steven? He’s the fake son, the one who took my place in the penthouse. He’s spent twenty years perfecting the role of the “Stained Glass Saint”—pure, fragile, and utterly full of it. But they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Looking at my biological parents and my “big sister,” it’s clear where we get it from. They aren’t just cold; they’re predators. Between the veiled threats, the emotional blackmail, and the empty promises, it’s obvious they only brought me back to use me—and Steven—as bargaining chips for their crumbling empire. … Pushed to the edge, Steven and I finally shook hands on a deal. To get out from under our parents’ thumbs, we set our sights on the apex predators of the city: Diana Blackwood, the powerhouse CEO of the Blackwood Group, and her younger sister, Morgan. We crafted the perfect personas. Steven would be the unyielding, misunderstood intellectual; I would be the ethereal, untouchable hermit. We were setting up the ultimate “Honey Trap.” What we didn’t expect? The trap was already set—and we were the ones walking into it. Eighteen years in a backwater town, and then suddenly, my billionaire parents “found” me. I was rebranded as Dominic Rossi and hauled back to the city. On the drive to the estate, they broke the news: the “fake” son would be staying with us. His biological parents—the ones who raised me—had died in a convenient car accident during my junior year of high school. Hospital records showed he was younger than me. I kept my head down, eyes fixed on my lap, feeling a cold knot of dread in my gut. Sure enough, the second I stepped into the foyer of the marble-clad mansion, a guy in a crisp white shirt with tear-rimmed eyes threw himself at me. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, his voice trembling with practiced precision. “It’s all my fault. Please don’t be mad. Don’t blame Mom and Dad. I’ll leave right now. I’ll go.” I hadn’t said a single word, and already, I was being cast as the villain. A professional victim? I thought. Finally, a worthy opponent. Beside me, our mother, Martha Rossi, rushed forward to pull him into her arms. “Hush, darling. You’re my son, too. You’ve done nothing wrong. This is your home, and you aren’t going anywhere.” Then, she shot me a look of sharp disapproval. I didn’t roll my eyes, though I wanted to. Instead, I let my lip quiver just a fraction. I let my shoulders slump, radiating a quiet, crushing loneliness. “I know I shouldn’t have come back,” I whispered, my voice sounding hollowed out. “He’s been with you his whole life. You have a bond. I’m just… the stranger who showed up twenty years late.” I paused, letting a single tear track down my cheek. “But I just wanted to know what it felt like to have parents again. Since his parents died so young… it’s been so hard surviving on my own.” I put a tiny, jagged edge on the words “his parents.” A reminder that Steven, for all his tears, didn’t share their blood. Martha’s face went pale. A flicker of unease crossed her features. I knew how to play the “pity card” better than anyone; I’d had to do it to survive the foster system after my adoptive parents died. The tide turned instantly. Martha stepped away from Steven and pulled me into a tight, scented embrace. “Oh, honey, it’s my fault. I lost you when you were so small. You’ve suffered so much.” She turned back to Steven, her voice hardening. “Steven, what has gotten into you? I thought you were more mature than this. Your brother just got home, and you’re already throwing a scene and making him feel unwelcome? Is this how I raised you?” Steven’s “saint” act cracked. He shook his head frantically. “No, Mom, I didn’t mean—” He looked at me, eyes wide with a mix of shock and budding hatred. “Dominic, you misunderstood me,” he said, pivoting quickly. “I’m just bad with words. I was afraid you’d hate me because I took your place.” He didn’t mention leaving again. Instead, he reached out and grabbed my hand. “Here, let me show you to your room!” He dragged me to a corner on the second floor and pushed open a heavy oak door. The room was a nightmare of clashing neon greens and garish reds. I squeezed my fists shut, my nails digging into my palms. “Do you like it, Dominic?” Steven asked, a sharp, triumphant glint in his eyes. “Mom and I picked everything out ourselves!” I caught Martha looking slightly uncomfortable out of the corner of my eye. I realized then—this “decor” was all Steven’s idea. He’d put me in the smallest room and decorated it like a cheap motel to remind me of my “roots.” A power move. I looked at him, then let out a blinding, joyful smile. I grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them tight. “Thank you, Steven. I’ve never had a room this nice in my entire life.” The tears started again—overflowing this time. “I can’t believe I actually deserve to live somewhere like this. But wait… where is your room? I don’t want my arrival to ruin the life you’ve built here.” The room went silent. The air grew heavy. Harriton Rossi, my father, who hadn’t spoken since we walked in, finally cleared his throat. “Enough. It’s just a room. For God’s sake, stop the crying; you’re a grown man. Martha, get someone in here tomorrow to swap this out. Give Dominic the master suite on the east wing. A son of Harriton Rossi deserves the best.” I looked at Steven, whose fake smile was now plastered on his face like a death mask. I let a tiny, cruel smirk touch my lips for just a second. “Thanks, Dad.” Our parents said their goodnights and headed to bed, leaving our older sister, Cordelia, to deal with me. Steven managed one last trembling sigh. “Cordelia, you take care of Dominic. I’ll… I’ll stay out of your way.” He walked off, his head bowed, looking like a discarded puppy. Predictably, Cordelia’s face softened with worry. She frowned at me and said, “Just get some sleep. Call a maid if you need anything.” Then she turned and chased after Steven. The kid was good. I’d give him that. The next few days were a blur of skirmishes. We fought for territory in the house, for attention at the dinner table, for the favor of the staff. He won some; I won some. But I was miserable. This house was a cage, and I quickly realized there wasn’t enough room for two sons. The battlefield soon shifted to the university. The next day, Martha took me to Steven’s elite private college to finalize my transfer. Money talks; even mid-semester, the doors swung wide for a Rossi. I said goodbye to Martha and walked into the lecture hall behind the dean. “So you’re the one bullying Steven?” A guy named Jax—some trust-fund jock—stood up before the dean even left the room. “A gutter rat from nowhere thinks he can come in here and push Seb around just because he’s got the right DNA?” Steven sat in the middle of the crowd, his head down, but I saw the spark of smugness in his eyes. Childish. I slowly scanned the room. When I ignored Jax, he slammed his hand on the desk. “Look at you. Low-class trash. No manners. It’s clear your ‘parents’ were just uneducated peasants who didn’t teach you a thing.” The dean shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. In this school, the students’ parents owned the buildings. He wasn’t going to stick his neck out for me. I let my expression shift—from calm to a fragile, wounded dignity. “I won’t let you insult the people who raised me,” I said, my voice trembling with controlled rage. “They may have been poor, but they were the best people I’ve ever known.” “What? What are you talking about?” Jax sneered. “I wasn’t talking about the Rossi family!” I looked confused, then horrified. “But… Steven and I were switched. The people who raised me were his biological parents…” “Shut up!” I snapped my mouth shut, looking guiltily at Steven, who had gone deathly pale. “Steven, I’m so sorry,” I whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t mean to out you.” I wasn’t sorry. I was the biological heir; why should I help them hide the truth just to save Steven’s social standing? Steven hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. He felt every pair of eyes in the room land on him like a spotlight. He panicked. The “saint” instinct took over. “I’m sorry, Dominic!” he wailed, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to steal your life. Please don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. Mom and Dad just love me too much to let me go back to poverty… if you hate me that much, I’ll leave right now!” As he stood up, he pitched forward, his eyes fluttering shut, and collapsed in a dead faint. The room erupted. The truth about the switch was instantly forgotten as everyone rushed to his side. They carried him to the infirmary like a fallen martyr. And I? I became the villain again. “Even if you’re the real one, how could you be so cruel?” “Exactly. Who cares about blood? Martha and Harriton love him more anyway. You’re just jealous.” “He’s like one of those evil twins from the movies.” One “faint” and the narrative flipped. My “brother” was a pro. News of our little drama spread through the city’s high society like wildfire. Everyone knew the Rossis had a biological son who was a nightmare and a fake son who was a saint. People started whispering that the Rossi family was “unstable.” The consequence? When we got home, the atmosphere was lethal. Martha and Cordelia looked at us with pure disappointment. Harriton, however, looked like he was ready to kill. He marched up to us, his face a mask of cold fury. Slap! Slap! My ears rang. My cheek burned with a white-hot sting. I looked at my father—the man who, days ago, had promised me “the best.” I was stunned. Steven, however, seemed used to it. He apologized instantly, his voice a flat, rehearsed monotone. “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let the family become gossip. It’s my fault. Dominic is new; he doesn’t understand how things work yet.” Harriton glared at me. “Don’t let your petty jealousy ruin this family’s reputation. Steven is my son. If I hear about you bullying him or embarrassing this name again, I’ll break your legs.” Martha stepped in, playing the peacemaker. “What can you expect? Those people who raised him… they didn’t know anything. We’ll just have to train him better.” She spoke about the people who loved me, who gave me everything they had, with nothing but disgust. They had never laid a finger on me. I looked at the floor, silent. Cordelia caught my eye and signaled to our parents. Martha quickly moved to hug me. “Dominic, don’t be mad at your father. He’s just stressed. In a family like ours, everything is connected. He’s doing this for the good of the house. For your good.” Harriton waved his hand dismissively. “Enough. Go to your rooms. Reflect. You’re grounded until further notice.” For a week, Steven and I were locked in that gilded cage. We didn’t stop our little war behind closed doors—he played his part, I played mine—but my soul was starting to wither. I missed my old life. I missed being alone. Then, one afternoon, Harriton came home and told us to get ready. “There’s a gala tonight. Be ready in three hours.” We were poked, prodded, and dressed by a team of stylists for three hours. By the time we arrived at the ballroom, the sun was down. Martha and Cordelia were already there, glowing under the chandeliers. For the first hour, we were paraded around like prize horses. Hypocrisy at its finest. Martha dabbing at fake tears, Cordelia playing the protective sister, Harriton playing the proud patriarch. A perfect, loving family. I touched my right cheek. The ghost of the slap still lingered. Just as I thought the night was just about “brand management,” the real reason for the gala emerged. The people we were being introduced to were getting younger, and my parents’ posture was getting more desperate, more servile. We were rejected by three different groups. My parents’ faces grew tighter with every “no.” Finally, we reached two women. They didn’t look at our faces; they looked at our bodies with a predatory, cold interest. Like they were appraising furniture. Instead of being offended, my parents looked relieved. They were beaming. I smiled back, but my internal alarm bells were screaming. When we finally got home, Harriton called us into the study. “The women you met tonight—Ms. Diana Blackwood and Ms. Morgan Blackwood. You remember them?” Steven and I exchanged a look. We remembered. They were the two who had stared at us like we were meat. “Good. Because from now on, your only job is to please them. Do whatever it takes to make them want to marry you.” “What?!” “Why?!” We spoke at the same time. Harriton’s expression darkened instantly. Steven recovered first. “Dad, I’m only twenty. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to leave you.” “Marriage doesn’t mean you’re gone. And twenty is old enough. You’re an adult.” “But—” Harriton cut him off, his eyes drilling into us. “Did you hear what I said?” I gritted my teeth. “Dad, I don’t even like them. Can’t we—” Slap! Another one. This time, the insults followed. “You think you’re something special? You’re a tool. My company needs their backing. Whether they want to marry you or just use you is up to them, and the only reason you even got a foot in the door is because I set the meeting.” “Let me be clear: if we don’t get this merger, this family is finished. If you two screw this up, don’t expect me to remember you’re my ‘sons.’” He stormed out. I stayed on the floor, hand to my face, eyes turning to ice. Steven’s hands were shaking at his sides, clenched into white-knuckled fists. That night, I tossed and turned, running through escape plans. I couldn’t stay here, but they wouldn’t let me go easily. A soft knock at the door startled me. Knock, knock, knock. I opened it and raised an eyebrow. “You?” It was Steven. The “saintly” mask was gone. His eyes were burning with pure, unadulterated resentment. “Going to let me in?” I stepped aside and shut the door behind him. “I’m not in the mood for games, Seb. If you don’t have something useful to say, get out.” Steven smirked. “Let’s work together.” My eyes widened. I looked him up and down. “Did you hit your head? We work together?” Steven’s cold laugh was jagged. “What choice do we have? You really want to throw your life away so they can buy another yacht? I’ve known since I was a kid that this family only cares about the bottom line. I played the perfect son because I thought they loved me. Then you showed up, and they didn’t even look back. They threw me away to go find their ‘real’ son.” He looked at me with a twisted sort of empathy. “I thought maybe it would be different for you. But look at your face. You’re just a different currency to them.” I kept my face flat. “Go on.” Steven took a deep breath. “I refuse to be discarded like trash when I lose my value. Let’s team up and burn this house down. Unless, of course, you’re actually attached to this ‘family’?” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Not even a little.” The two slaps had cleared any lingering sentimentality. “What’s the plan?” I asked. “We can’t just run. They’ll find us. We’re still ‘valuable’ to them.” “We need leverage,” Steven said. He pulled out his phone and pulled up a file. I scrolled through. It was a dossier on the elite families of the city—the ones at the very top. “We find a patron they’re too scared to touch,” Steven whispered. “We find someone who can protect us so we can leave through the front door.” “And how do you guarantee any of these people will help us?” “That’s where our ‘charms’ come in, brother.”

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