Category: English

Every single year, my birthday wish was the same: I hope the real son comes home soon. When I smiled at my sister, she’d sneer and call me a sycophant. When I finally won the gold medal at the national piano competition, my parents didn’t celebrate; they smashed the piano to pieces, claiming I was “drinking the blood” of the son who was actually theirs. The entire family lived in a state of constant vigilance. They were terrified of being too kind to me, afraid they’d whet my appetite for a life that wasn’t mine. They didn’t want me to grow bold enough to challenge the “real” boy for his place in their hearts once he returned. So, when the true heir finally came back, I wasn’t jealous. I was ecstatic. That joy lasted until the first mock exam. The “real” son failed, sobbing that no matter how hard he tried, he could never measure up to me. He made a grand spectacle of a suicide attempt, nicking his wrist just enough to bleed. To “repay” me for stealing his life, my parents reported me for cheating during the SATs, weaving a web of lies that landed me in a juvenile detention center, and eventually, prison. They called it the price for living in a nest that didn’t belong to me. But the joke was on me. It turns out, I am their biological son. They had kept it a secret because they were afraid that if their lost, adopted son ever returned, seeing a “replacement” child would break his heart. Now that the eldest has finally “accepted” me, they’ve come to fetch me for a happy family reunion. I look down at the jagged, centipede-like scars crawling up my arms and lower my eyes. The prison doctor said my psychological damage is too severe—that perhaps only the warmth of my “real” family could save me now. But it was all a lie. Every bit of it. And I think it’s finally time for me to go. 1. The day I was released, the sky was a bruised grey, and a brutal wind whipped through the city, biting deep into the marrow of my bones. The guard handed me a tattered old coat. “Nate, you’re free. From today on… don’t be stupid. Don’t come back here.” His eyes flickered to my tightly clenched sleeves, and his voice softened. “And tell your family to… take you to see someone. A professional.” My eyes remained vacant. I nodded, pulling my sleeves down further. Right. My penance was served. I could go find my real family now. I hadn’t walked ten paces before a black Rolls-Royce, hazard lights blinking, pulled to the curb. The window slid down, revealing a face as familiar as it was beautiful. Becca. The “real” son’s older sister. Her gaze was exactly as I remembered: cold, devoid of even a flicker of warmth. “Nate. Get in the car. We’re going home.” I didn’t look at her. I walked straight toward the bus stop. Just as I was about to step onto the bus, a violent force yanked me backward. My spine slammed against the cold, metal frame of the car. Becca towered over me, her eyes filled with that practiced, familiar disdain. “What is this? Are you trying to pull the same stunt Jordan did? Trying to make us feel guilty?” She scoffed. “Two years in a cell and this is the only trick you’ve learned?” Since I went inside, my brain had felt like it was rusting. It turned slowly, laboriously. I stared at her blankly, taking a long time to process her words. Finally, I shook my head. I pulled a crumpled, softened scrap of paper from my pocket—something I had smoothed out a thousand times in the dark—and held it out to her. “No,” I said, my voice sounding like dry leaves. “Jordan came to see me last time. He said he found my real parents. Look. The address is here. I’m going to my own home.” She froze. Then, her face went deathly pale. She snatched the paper, tore it into a dozen pieces, and threw them into the rushing traffic of the boulevard. “Stop acting crazy.” She grabbed my arm, her grip bruising. “Mom and Dad are waiting. Get in the—” Before she could finish, a short, sharp scream escaped my throat. I tore myself away from her and, ignoring the screech of tires, lunged into the street. “Home… I have to go home…” I dropped to my knees on the freezing asphalt, frantically clawing at the scraps of white paper. The world exploded into a cacophony of blaring horns and muffled curses. “Jesus! You want to die?! Get out of the road!” Becca turned white as a sheet. She lunged forward, using her body to shield me from the oncoming cars, shouting apologies to the angry drivers as she practically dragged me back to the curb. “Nate!” Her chest heaved, fear flickering in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that suffocating annoyance. “If you really want to die, do it somewhere I don’t have to watch! Using these pathetic tactics to get attention… the Beaumonts really wasted their years raising you.” Her shouting left me dazed. My sluggish mind churned for a moment before I looked up at her, my expression one of genuine, quiet confusion. “So… when Jordan cut his wrists,” I asked softly, “was he just… doing it for attention too?” “That doesn’t seem right…” Becca’s entire body went rigid. Her voice died in her throat. For the first time in my life, she looked away, unable to meet my eyes. See? Even she knew it. “Jordan.” Since the day I could remember, that name was a curse etched into my skin. I was the fake. I was the parasite. I was the usurper. That was why my father fired the nanny who dared to serve me dessert first. That was why my mother smashed the piano I won the gold with. That was why Becca stood by and watched as they took the stray puppy I’d found and abandoned it in the woods. With every choice, they proved it: they would never allow the boy who grew up in their home to take even a fraction of the love meant for their “lost pearl.” Their hearts were tilted toward him long before he ever stepped foot back in the house. But I still didn’t understand. If he had all the love—if the world was his for the taking—why? Why, just because I beat him on one stupid test, did he have to open his veins? Jordan. What were you so afraid of? 2. Becca rubbed her temples, her frustration radiating off her in waves. “You know it’s not the same! Jordan is different from you!” “Do you have any idea how much he suffered out there? He didn’t even get to finish school! And you? You were brought into this family and given everything—the best tutors, the best life!” “You just had to be number one every single time, didn’t you? You did it to hurt him. To make him feel hopeless!” I didn’t really hear her. I was too busy with my shaking hands, trying to piece together the sodden scraps of paper. When I finished, three pieces were missing. “It’s gone,” I whispered, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “It’s gone… my home is gone!” I started to lunge for the road again. Slap! The blow was sharp and stinging, ringing in my ears. Becca dragged me by the collar to the edge of a dirty, half-frozen drainage ditch filled with stagnant water. “You want to die so bad, Nate?” She let go, pointing at the dark, frigid sludge. Her voice was like shards of ice. “Go ahead. Jump! Stop the theatrics!” With a violent flick of her wrist, she knocked the remaining scraps of paper out of my hand. They fluttered like dying leaves, landing on the grey, frozen surface of the puddle. I looked up at her. Her eyes held nothing but that familiar, condescending contempt. I remembered Jordan’s first birthday back with us. He had cried, saying the watch Becca gave him was missing, and that he’d seen me sneaking into his room. At first, I tried to fight. “I didn’t steal it! There are cameras in the hallway—” Before I could finish, Becca took a baseball bat and smashed the camera right in front of me. I went silent instantly. She was teaching me a lesson: my truth meant nothing compared to Jordan’s tears. The watch wasn’t in my room. It had been cut into pieces, the strap scattered at the bottom of the deep end of the swimming pool. Everyone in the family knew I had nearly drowned as a child. I had a crippling phobia of water; even drinking from a full glass could make me feel like I was suffocating. But that winter, Becca had me thrown into the icy pool. “Get it,” she had said. “Every single piece.” My parents watched as Jordan sobbed into their shoulders, their silence a blessing for my torment. I passed out in that water more than once, only to be revived by even colder means until my frozen, numb fingers found the last bit of the watch. Since then, my phobia was so bad that even a reflection on a wet surface could trigger a panic attack. So Becca was certain. I was terrified of water. I was terrified of death. She didn’t know that in prison, when I used a sharpened piece of plastic to open my skin over and over, all I felt was… relief. The prison doctor had shaken his head at the guards. He has a profound desire for self-destruction. If he has a family to love and support him, maybe there’s hope… Becca looked at my empty, hollow eyes and smirked, her voice dripping with mockery. “Can’t do it, can you? You don’t even have the courage to look at it. Think about how much pain Jordan must have been in to actually—” She didn’t finish the sentence. I threw myself forward, plunging headfirst into the foul, freezing water of the ditch. The slush filled my nose and mouth instantly. Getting back to my real family… that was my last reason to live. And if that was gone, I was done. But a second later, a pair of arms hooked around my waist and hauled me out, slamming me onto the muddy grass. I coughed violently, retching up the filthy water. Through blurred vision, I saw Becca, drenched and shivering. She was kneeling in the mud, her hands still reaching for me. Her pupils were blown wide, fixed on me with a look I’d never seen before. It wasn’t coldness. It wasn’t disdain. It was pure, unadulterated terror. I didn’t understand. What was she afraid of? The “fake” was finally gone. Isn’t that what she… what everyone wanted? 3. I stared at the pulp in my hands—the ink-smeared, waterlogged mess that used to be my hope. A sense of crushing weight, a weariness that seeped from my bones, drowned me again. I was so tired. If I had a blade right now, could I just sleep forever? Becca, having seen the absolute lack of hesitation in my eyes when I dove into that water, spoke for the first time with a voice that was… soft. “Nate… how could you…?” Her voice cracked. “You weren’t like this when we were kids. Since when do you take my words so seriously?” She was right. Since I could remember, she told me: Nate, you’re just a placeholder. Know your place. Jordan is my only brother. Back then, I’d just smile and hold out my arms for a hug. Later, I worked until my hands were blistered to bake her favorite desserts, only for her to sneer: Nate, why are you so pathetic? Jordan would never beg for a scrap of attention like you do. I’d still smile, holding the plate out to her. No matter how cruel she was, the little version of me followed her like a shadow. I was convinced she was just moody, not that she actually hated me. Until Jordan came back. Then I saw what she was like when she actually loved someone. She was tender. She was protective. When Jordan and I were cornered by older kids at school, she charged in and pulled him behind her. She didn’t even look at me. She just turned and walked away with him. Her friend had pointed at me, bruised in the dirt. “Becca? What about the other brother?” “He isn’t my brother.” I watched her walk away, shielding Jordan, leaving me to face the insults and the shoves alone. I struggled to sit up, my mind trying to piece together the half-remembered words from the paper, but they were fading. “Nate, come home with me. Stop this,” Becca said, her voice carrying that sickening, patronizing tone of comfort. “Mom, Dad, and Jordan are all waiting for New Year’s dinner.” She reached for my wrist. Her fingers brushed the tender skin over my scars, and a bolt of lightning-fast pain shot through me. The dam finally broke. Slap! I swung with everything I had, my palm connecting with her cheek. “Becca! You aren’t my sister! You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I screamed, my voice raw and hysterical. “I just want to go home! To my real family! To people who actually want me!” Becca’s head snapped to the side. She froze. But her eyes weren’t on my face; they were on my wrist, where the sleeve had ridden up to reveal a roadmap of old and new scars, crisscrossing in a jagged mess. Her pupils shrank. Her eyes brimmed with tears instantly. “Nate… your arm…” Her voice was a ghostly tremble. “Did… did someone hurt you in there? I thought… I told them to make sure you were looked after…” For the first time, she looked at me with grief. With heartbreak. It was absurd. I had finally stopped calling her “sister.” I had finally stopped clinging to her. Why was she the one who looked devastated? A wave of nausea rolled over me. “Becca,” I said, my voice as cold as the wind. “What kind of sick game are you playing now?” She didn’t seem to hear me. She grabbed my arm and shoved me into the car, clicking the seatbelt shut with trembling fingers. “We’re going to the hospital,” she said, her voice tight as she gunned the engine. “I’m not going to a hospital! I’m going home! Let me out!” I threw myself at her, clawing at her coat, my nails leaving long, bloody furrows across her face. Blood leaked down her cheek, but she just gritted her teeth, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and didn’t say a word. That silence—that suffocating, unresponsive wall—dragged me right back to the solitary confinement cell. My head throbbed. The last memory of the address on that paper vanished. I let go. I went limp. She glanced at me, misinterpreting my silence. She forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Nate… you… you still care about me, don’t you? You stopped.” I smiled back at her. Then, with every ounce of strength I had left, I lunged for the steering wheel and jerked it hard to the right. If I can’t go home… then we can both just go to hell. Screeeech! The tires screamed against the pavement. The car spun out of control, slamming into the guardrail with a deafening metallic crunch. The airbags exploded. Becca sat there, gasping for air, blood trickling from her forehead, her eyes wide with the shock of being alive. She turned to me, seeing the pure, unadulterated disappointment on my face, and her voice shook. “Nate… you… you really want to die that badly?” “How did you become this…?” I raised my dead, hollow eyes to hers. She flinched, then tried to soften her voice, using a tone you’d use to coax a stray dog. “Okay. Okay… no hospital. We’ll go home. Please. Just… come home.” I lowered my eyes and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Seeing me return to this “obedient” state, Becca’s shoulders finally slumped. She let out a long, shuddering breath. She thought I was finally “listening.” She didn’t know. I just remembered something. Jordan knows where my real home is. I’m going to go ask him myself. 4. The house was draped in festive lights, glowing with a warmth that felt like a mockery. Inside, Jordan was dressed in a pristine new sweater, his cheeks rosy, leaning against his mother’s shoulder. “Mom, Dad, I’m only back for a few days for break. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” Mr. Beaumont sat nearby, patiently peeling shrimp for him, his eyes full of fatherly pride. “Your advisor called, Jordan. Another award? We have to celebrate. Our boy is doing so well.” It was a picture of domestic bliss. A perfect family. Becca tightened her jaw and cleared her throat. “Mom, Dad. I brought Nate back.” The laughter died instantly. Three sets of eyes swung toward us. First to me, then to Becca’s soaked clothes and the bloody scratches on her face. My parents’ brows furrowed in unison. Jordan was the first to stand. He walked toward me, his voice laced with the practiced authority of a golden child lecturing a wayward sibling. “Nate, Becca went out in a blizzard to get you, and this is how you treat her?” He sighed, sounding disappointed. “You’re college-aged now. Can’t you be a little more mature? Stop making everyone worry about you.” My father’s face darkened. “Nate, you’re getting out of hand. Your sister just recovered from a cold.” My mother sneered, falling into her old rhythm. “He was always a troublemaker. Fighting in high school, coming home covered in bruises. I suppose you spent your time inside with the same kind of lowlifes—” “That’s enough.” Becca’s voice wasn’t loud, but it had a sharp, metallic edge that cut her mother off. She frowned. “I was clumsy. It had nothing to do with Nate.” She paused, then looked at Jordan, her voice uncharacteristically stern. “And Jordan, Nate didn’t go to college. Maybe think before you speak next time?” The silence in the room was absolute. They stared at her, stunned. No one expected Becca to snap at her “precious” brother for the sake of the “fake” one. Jordan’s eyes welled up instantly. His lip trembled, and his voice took on that pathetic, wounded quality. “Fine! He’s the brother you grew up with, I get it! I’m the outsider! I don’t deserve to speak to him! Is that it?” Becca’s expression flickered with guilt, and she looked away. My mother, heartbroken for her darling, rushed to pull Jordan into her arms. “Becca! How could you talk to your brother like that?!” Then she turned her venom on me. “And you, Nate! You walk in the door and immediately cause trouble. Why can’t you just be grateful?” I looked at this woman—this elegant, bejeweled stranger who looked at me with nothing but exhaustion and hate. The word “Mom” died in my throat. She wasn’t my mother. This was just how the world worked. “Let’s just eat,” my father sighed, trying to diffuse the tension. “Becca made us wait for you, Nate. Jordan is starving.” I looked up. “Did I ask him to wait?” My voice was dry and flat. “Becca made that choice. What does it have to do with me?” Jordan gasped. “Nate! Have you lost your mind? How can you speak to Becca like that?” “She isn’t my sister,” I said, each word clear and cold. “She’s yours.” In the middle of their shocked silence, I continued. “And I didn’t come here to eat.” I turned to Jordan, locking my eyes onto his. “I came for the address.” “Give it to me, and I’ll leave. I won’t ruin your little family reunion.” The color drained from his face. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. My father frowned. “What are you talking about? This is your home.” “I’m talking about my real home. My biological parents.” I kept my eyes on Jordan. “In prison, you told me you found them. You gave me an address. I lost it. Write it down again.” The air in the room turned to lead. My parents looked at Jordan, their expressions shifting to something dark and unreadable. Jordan stammered, “Isn’t… isn’t this family good enough? Why do you have to look for—” “I have to!” I was shaking now, my voice rising to a raw howl. “I want my home! I want my parents! I want to go back!” Becca, watching me unravel, finally snapped. She turned to her parents, her voice vibrating with suppressed rage. “Just tell him! The truth! Didn’t we agree? We were going to give him the ‘surprise’ when he got out!” I looked at her, confused. She wouldn’t meet my gaze; she just stared them down. The eldest daughter’s word still held weight in this house. My parents exchanged a look. Finally, my father sighed. He looked at me, his voice suddenly artificial, coated in a layer of forced “warmth.” “Nate… the truth is… you are our biological son.”

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On the day of my difficult delivery, my husband abandoned me in the operating room, disgusted by the sight of childbirth. With no one to sign the consent forms, I nearly died on the operating table. After I finally escaped the jaws of death, he vanished entirely for a month. It wasn’t until I brought our newborn son home from the hospital that I found my husband waiting with a table full of my favorite dishes. I comforted myself, thinking that perhaps, as a first-time father, his fear of childbirth was normal. But the very next day, a photo of me, bare-chested and nursing my baby, appeared in a private chat group of the elite. The caption read: [Freshly sourced. House calls available for direct mouth-to-mouth inspection.] … 1 The chat group instantly exploded over that single sentence. And the person who posted the picture was the same husband who had tenderly washed my hair and bathed me just yesterday. “Gentlemen, my wife is a fresh, new mother. Only six slots available. Bidding starts at $70,000.” A payment QR code was immediately dropped into the chat. More and more people joined this online auction. “Is this a scam? Who sells their own wife these days? Playing pretty hard, huh? But I like it.” “This guy is legit. Just bid!” “I bid $70,000. I’ve tasted spicy girls and mature women, but never a new mom. It must be a unique experience.” Listening to these men’s degrading fantasies about me, a fleeting, almost imperceptible flash of guilt crossed my husband’s face. “For those who are skeptical, you can inspect the goods before paying. If it’s fake, I’ll compensate you triple!” Before he even finished speaking, the wealthy men were eagerly throwing money around, fighting to sign up. “$70,000? Get out of here. I bid $170,000. I want to suck ten pounds.” “$400,000. I want all of your wife’s breast milk. Even your kid can’t touch it!” As soon as those words were spoken, a gasp echoed through the speaker. My husband deliberately lowered his voice, but a hint of excitement still bled through. “Rest assured, Mr. Wang. The day after tomorrow, 3 PM, Room 888 at the Starlight Hotel… I guarantee she’ll be drugged beforehand. She’ll be responsive but quiet…” Amidst the collective gasps, I stood outside the study, my face already covered in tears. Liam Sterling’s words, and the filthy remarks of those rich men, were like sharp blades carving my heart to bloody ribbons. Liam and I had an arranged marriage, one that I had eagerly hoped for. He, however, had no feelings for me. Before my pregnancy, he was always merely polite. But after I got pregnant, he suddenly started doting on me, staying home and never leaving my side to take care of me. Under his meticulous care and sweet words, I thought he had finally seen my worth, and I was overjoyed for a long time. Even while heavily pregnant, I personally cooked and did his laundry every day, refusing to let the nanny help. Now it seemed it was all just a grand performance, an act of deep affection just to sell me for a good price. But a question still lingered in my mind. The Sterling family was part of the elite circle. If he just needed a few million, he could have simply asked his family. Why hide his identity and use me to make money? Why grovel so pathetically to these people for an auction? Inside the study, immediately after Liam hung up the call, another one came in. “Liam, did you get the money for my medical bills? I feel so awful, my heart hurts so much.” “Be a good girl, Mia. I’ve raised the money. Once the final payment clears, you can have your surgery.” The girl on the other end let out an infatuated laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t abandon me, Liam. But using Chloe’s… thing to pay for my medical bills… is that really okay? A woman’s purity is her most important asset.” Liam sneered coldly. “Her purity being traded for your medical treatment is her blessing. In a way, she’s accumulating good karma for herself!” “If Chloe finds out, won’t she go to Grandpa and divorce you?” “Impossible. She loves me too much. Once your medical bills are covered, I’ll just buy her a strawberry lollipop, and everything will be fine!” Listening to their flirtatious banter, the last shred of love I had for him vanished completely. I knew who the woman on the phone was. She was Liam’s college junior, Mia. They had been in love for five years. In their sixth year, the Sterling family suddenly declared bankruptcy, and she vanished the very next day. Liam was devastated. It was then that I took the opportunity to bring up the childhood marriage arrangement between our families, successfully marrying Liam. After the wedding, I injected my entire inheritance from my father into the Sterling Group, bringing it back from the brink of death. I originally thought that if I gave enough, he would eventually let me into his heart. But in the end, I still couldn’t compete with a single “It hurts” from his first love. Three years of wholehearted devotion, repaid with both emotional and physical betrayal… I silently retreated to my room, looked at my sleeping son, and dialed Liam’s grandfather’s number: “The day after tomorrow, 3 PM, Room 888 at the Starlight Hotel. That will be proof enough that he never had me in his heart. Grandpa, I have done everything I can for the Sterling family. Please allow me to leave!” I was woken up by my son’s crying. Looking at him, I knew he was hungry. I immediately prepared to lift my shirt to nurse him, but right at that moment, Liam burst in and snatched my son from my arms. The baby hung upside down over Liam’s shoulder. “What are you lifting your shirt for?! Nursing at the drop of a hat—what, are you trying to get off on the kid?” “You really disgust me, Chloe!” Remembering his conversation with those rich men last night, I instantly understood his intention. As expected, for his first love, he didn’t even care whether his own son lived or died. Ignoring Liam’s deliberate insults, I panicked seeing the baby’s face turn purple and hearing his cries grow weaker. I immediately pulled my shirt down and begged Liam to put the baby down. But he completely ignored me. He reached out, stripped off my shirt and pants, and shoved me into the storage room. “You filthy bitch. Since your mind is so dirty, let’s keep your body clean. Think about what you’ve done in here!” Hearing the baby’s cries drift further away and grow fainter, I frantically pounded on the door, begging Liam to let me out. “Even if you don’t want me to breastfeed him, please, Liam, at least give him some formula!” The only response was endless silence and darkness. I slid to the floor in despair, but then flashing lights from the window pierced my eyes. There were people in the building opposite… Only then did I realize that this storage room was completely empty, and it had a floor-to-ceiling window directly facing the balcony next door. Five men on the opposite balcony were snapping photos of me with their cameras. “So this is the nursing mom up for auction, Chloe? Looks like the kid wasn’t lying. You can tell she’s engorged just by looking at her. The taste must be fantastic.” “Hahaha, so what if she’s top-tier? The money we five pooled together only bought us viewing rights. The only one who gets to touch her is the guy who bid $400,000…” Hearing this, everyone looked at the man sitting to the side, but he merely put away his phone, turned, and left the balcony. I stared in disbelief as the camera flashes raked over my body. Every flash felt like a slap, numbing me to the pain, leaving me powerless to fight back. Listening to their filthy remarks, I could only hug myself tightly, curling into a corner, burying my head, and turning my back to the window. When the flashing finally stopped, I heard the front door open. Mia, wearing a sexy, tight corset dress, perfectly “tripped” into Liam’s arms the moment he opened the door. “Liam, this dress is squeezing my chest so tight it hurts! Help me, please!” Looking at the curvaceous Mia, Liam casually tossed our still-crying son onto the dining table. Right in front of the baby, he threw Mia onto the table and started taking her. Listening to the baby’s weak cries and the filthy sounds of those two dogs enjoying themselves… I pounded the door frantically, trying to awaken whatever conscience Liam had left. But the only response I got was Mia’s louder moans and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. It wasn’t until my hands were bloody and mangled from pounding the door, and my body covered in bruises from throwing myself against it, That Liam finally let me out of the storage room. One look at his eyes, and I instantly understood what that heavy thud had been… I used every ounce of my strength to shove Liam aside and run to the living room. Mia leisurely pulled up her panties, flaunting herself at me. And my child was lying under the dining table in an unnatural position. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. It’s all my fault for making Liam lose control. We forgot the baby was still on the table…” Seeing Mia’s fake, sorrowful expression, I didn’t care that I was still naked. I lunged at her with all my might. Before I even touched a hair on her head, Liam kicked me to the ground. I landed right next to my baby. Looking at his already purple face and stiff body, all my grievances erupted in that moment. “Liam, he is your own biological son! Aren’t you afraid of karma?!” Liam held Mia in his arms with a look of utter indifference and sneered: “Chloe, if Mia hadn’t been misdiagnosed with a heart condition, I never would have let you get pregnant.” “Just now, the doctor told me Mia’s heart condition was a misdiagnosis. If the kid is dead, he’s dead. It’ll be the same when you raise Mia’s child later.” Mia touched her stomach, a smile hidden on her lips, and feigned distress: “Liam, since I’m fine now, can we cancel the auction for Chloe’s breast milk? Even if Mr. Wang has powerful backing, Chloe’s reputation is still very important…” Anyone with a brain could tell she was passively-aggressively urging Liam to hand me over to Mr. Wang as soon as possible. Only that bastard Liam interpreted it as her being gentle, considerate, and kind. Liam’s phone rang, and he answered it like a lapdog. An old, weak voice came through the speaker: “The naked video of your wife is good. I’ve transferred the final payment to your card. Make sure she’s completely bare when you bring her to the room tomorrow.” Because I was quite far away, I didn’t catch the exact details, but from his expression, I knew it had to be about the auction. I picked up my baby, who had long stopped breathing, and stumbled toward the bedroom. “Tomorrow, come with me to the Starlight Hotel. There’s a banquet, and the organizers require a female plus-one for entry!” Hearing this, I refused without thinking, “Mia is a woman. You can take her.” Before I finished, Liam rushed over, snatched the baby from me, and dangled him by his tiny fingers like a plastic bag. “Who the hell do you think you are to refuse me? Mia even put in a good word for you! Don’t push your luck!” Watching my baby’s body sway, my heart felt like it was being sliced open. “Give me back my baby.” A cold sneer curved Liam’s lips. “You want the kid? Then accompany me to the auction tomorrow. Otherwise, I’ll throw him to the wolves in Siberia so there won’t even be bones left, and he won’t be able to reincarnate even if he reaches the underworld!” Looking at his emotionless eyes, I felt desperate and helpless. “Liam, he is your child, and I am your legally wedded wife! Are you truly not afraid of retribution?!” Liam held the baby high in the air. “Chloe, cut the crap. If you don’t agree right now, I’ll tear your child apart piece by piece!” Although Liam appeared to outsiders as a gentle and refined gentleman, only I knew he was a terrifying demon who always kept his word. To ensure my baby remained intact and received a proper burial, I agreed to his terms. The child was already gone, my heart was already dead; there was nothing left for me to fear. Once he confirmed I wouldn’t change my mind, Liam tossed the baby at my feet and left with Mia in his arms. After he left, I quickly cleaned myself up and arranged my baby’s funeral. To preserve the last shred of dignity for the Sterling family, I didn’t publicize his death. I simply hired a monk to perform a small ceremony, hoping that in his next life, he would be born into a normal family and no longer suffer with me. By the time everything was done, it was the next day. When I returned home, a row of colorful, sexy, and revealing evening gowns was lined up in the living room. Liam was sitting on the sofa in an odd position. Mia, with a look of pure enjoyment on her face, was sitting on his lap, subtly grinding against him. I wanted to ignore them and go straight upstairs. But Liam called out, pointing at the rack of dresses and telling me to pick one. Looking at the clothes—all plunging necklines, deep V’s, or slits cut up to the waist—I flatly refused. Liam looked at me with disgust. “You have to wear one. Look at your fat, bloated body. Mia specifically found a designer who specializes in plus-size women’s clothing to custom-make these for you. Don’t be ungrateful!” I looked down at my bloated, protruding stomach and found it incredibly ironic. During my pregnancy, Liam treated me like a treasure. I once thought my love would finally bear fruit. But on the day I gave birth, when he saw my lower body, the disgust and revulsion in his eyes were unmistakable. He sneaked away, leading to me hemorrhaging with no one to sign the surgical consent form. I nearly died on the operating table. Since that day, I suffered from postpartum depression, trapped in constant self-doubt, which led to a hormonal imbalance that caused my body to swell. He was the cause of all this, yet he dared to blame me! I picked a dress that provided slightly more coverage and changed into it, just as they finished their filthy act. When we arrived at the auction, the five men who had been standing on the balcony that day were all present. Liam shot Mia a look. Mia pretended to be very affectionate, hooking her arm through mine and dragging me over to socialize with those scumbags. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. She’s a mother now, and still looks like this. Definitely worth the price.” “Mr. Wang is in for a treat tonight. $400,000 is a steal.” “Hey gorgeous, if you can’t take it, you can always run. Us five brothers will take good care of you.” Listening to their filthy words, Mia offered a few haphazard excuses and dragged me away, terrified I would catch their underlying meaning and discover her and Liam’s insidious plot. But as I turned around, I caught sight of Liam pouring a packet of powder into a glass of red wine, whispering something to a waiter. The waiter looked over with a guilty expression. I quickly turned my back, terrified Liam would realize I saw something. I always thought that even if Liam didn’t love me, he would spare my life out of consideration for my three years of unwavering dedication to the Sterling family. At the very least, he wouldn’t degrade me like this. Mia took the wine glass from Liam and handed it to me. “Don’t be mad, Chloe. Those bosses were just complimenting you. Try this, it’s very expensive!” I instinctively looked at Liam, but he guiltily turned his head away. Looking at the powder settled at the bottom of the glass, I sneered and pushed Mia’s hand away. “I’m afraid of karma if I drink wine offered by a mistress!” Before the words had fully landed, Liam ground his teeth, suppressed his anger, and growled at me. “Chloe, I don’t have time for your tantrums. Drink the wine right now. Isn’t Mia tired holding it?” I feigned nervousness, inching toward the exit, and asked with a naive expression: “Honey, you know I’m allergic to alcohol. Why are you…” Before I could finish, my head started spinning and my vision blurred. But I clearly hadn’t drunk or touched anything! “Looks like the drug in the earrings is working. Liam, hurry up and send her to Mr. Wang. The East City project will definitely be yours.” “You really are a clever little thing, thinking of everything. I don’t know why she suddenly became so cautious, wasting so much time.” Mia leaned weakly against Liam, her venomous, snake-like eyes roaming over me. “Liam, are you sure you want to give Chloe to that seventy-something Mr. Wang? Doesn’t your heart ache?” Liam lifted Mia’s chin and kissed her deeply. “Why would my heart ache for her? She’s just a lapdog. What trouble could she possibly cause?” I collapsed weakly to the floor, trying to grab Liam’s pant leg. “I am your legally wedded wife… you can’t do this to me…” Listening to my feeble pleas, Liam didn’t even look at me: “Tonight is a charity auction. By making a contribution, you’re accumulating good karma for your child. Isn’t this what they call a win-win?” Thinking of my dead son, despair consumed me entirely. Seeing I was no longer struggling, Liam publicly stripped off my gown and underwear. He ordered a waiter to bring a transparent gift box, tied my hands and feet, and put me inside. “Send it to Room 888 on the top floor.” Looking at their numb, indifferent eyes, I knew pleading was useless. Through the transparent packaging, I thought I saw a flash of heartache and guilt in Liam’s eyes. As the scene before me grew increasingly blurry, I viciously bit my own tongue to stay awake. Until Grandpa Sterling sent someone to rescue me. “In the end, it is our Sterling family that has wronged you.” He returned my mother’s keepsake, had me sign the divorce papers, And sent me abroad. Watching the plane take off and Capital City shrink to a tiny dot, I finally dared to let my guard down and fall asleep. Meanwhile, Room 888 was in shambles: “Liam Sterling, where is the item I bought? All I got was a broken box?!” Mr. Wang, half-naked, was smashing things in a furious, red-faced rage. Liam yelled at his bodyguards, “Go find her right now! I want her alive, or I want to see her corpse!” Hearing this, the bodyguards rushed out of the room, but quickly backed in again. Liam looked at the person walking in behind the bodyguards, his jaw dropping in shock. Before he could speak, his grandfather slapped the divorce agreement onto his face: “From now on, Chloe has nothing to do with the Sterling family! You can use Mia to compensate Mr. Wang!” Hearing this, Mia instinctively hid behind Liam, looking at him with utter grievance. She signaled for Liam to speak up and protect her. But to her surprise, Liam ignored her pleading gaze, And instead asked why Chloe would have nothing to do with the Sterling family anymore. Furious, his grandfather raised his cane and struck Liam’s leg. “You have the audacity to ask?! If I hadn’t arrived in time, you would have given your own wife to someone else as a plaything, all for this insidious, gold-digging woman!” Seeing his grandfather’s rage, Liam stubbornly replied: “It’s just nursing! It’s not like Chloe was going to lose a piece of flesh. She wouldn’t have cared.” “Besides, as long as she satisfies Mr. Wang, he’ll give me the East City land outright! She’d normally jump at the chance to do something that helps me so much!” Seeing his grandson spout such shameless words with such self-righteousness, Grandpa Sterling trembled with anger. It was only then that Liam clearly saw what his grandfather had just slapped onto his face. “A divorce agreement?” “How do you have this?!” Liam dropped his cynical attitude, his expression turning serious. Grandpa Sterling sighed deeply and recounted the events following the Sterling family’s bankruptcy. Three years ago, when the Sterling family went bankrupt, I found out and brought my father’s inheritance and the notarized documents to Grandpa Sterling. I told him I could save the Sterling family from ruin, but I had two conditions. The first condition was that I had to become Liam’s wife. Grandpa Sterling, a seasoned businessman, naturally wouldn’t believe in the “love” of a girl in her early twenties. So he confiscated my mother’s keepsake to keep me in check. Later, as the Sterling family returned to its peak, he witnessed everything I did for his grandson. Ultimately, feeling a pang of conscience, he prepared a divorce agreement, pre-signed by Liam, as my ultimate escape route. As for the second condition… I asked Grandpa to hide the real reason Mia left Liam. I was truly afraid that a proud man like him would suffer a complete breakdown if he knew the truth. But I never expected that my well-intentioned concealment would become the sharpest knife to stab me today. Liam had actually offered me to a seventy-year-old man with a nursing fetish, just to amuse Mia. After the story was told, some were shocked, some felt guilty. Looking at my signature on the divorce agreement, Liam collapsed onto the floor. “She couldn’t have signed it. She loves me so much; how could she bear to divorce me?!” “It must be fake. Grandpa, you’re joking with me, right?!” Seeing the man so completely lost, Mia couldn’t suppress her jealousy and pretended to defuse the situation: “Grandpa, don’t blame Liam. Actually, Chloe also wanted to experience nursing again because the baby died. As the old saying goes, it takes two to tango, right?” Smack~ Grandpa stood right up and slapped Mia hard across the face, saying ruthlessly: “It seems to me, this slap sounded pretty loud!” “I’m not my idiot grandson, whose brain has been replaced by hot air. Your little tricks don’t work on me. You know exactly how many schemes you used to auction off Chloe and kill the baby!” Knowing she was in the wrong, Mia ducked back behind Liam and said nothing more. Liam finally realized his grandfather wasn’t joking. He plastered on a fake smile and crawled to his grandfather’s feet. “Grandpa, I won’t sell her. I’ll return the four hundred thousand, and then I’ll go home and find Chloe. I’ll apologize to her. We’ll just tear up this divorce agreement, it doesn’t count…” The man’s nonchalant attitude only made Grandpa angrier. “Liam Sterling, you truly are a piece of work! Let me tell you, I’ve already sent Chloe to her childhood friend. Their families originally had an arranged marriage.” “I hope that boy can bring Chloe true happiness!” Hearing this, Liam stood up agitatedly, his eyes turning red. “Impossible! Chloe is mine, alive or dead. Marrying someone else? In her dreams!” Grandpa sneered coldly. “If she really becomes a ghost, she’d better be a vengeful spirit coming for your life, dragging you and this woman to hell to be deep-fried!” Finally, Grandpa looked at Mia and sighed deeply. “Since you were willing to go this far for this woman, then just marry this disaster. Consider it accumulating good karma!” With that, Grandpa left the room with his bodyguards. Hearing those words, Mia was thrilled. She happily wrapped her arm around Liam’s. “Grandpa finally let us be together! I told you good deeds are rewarded. From now on, my son will officially be a member of the Sterling family!” The man radiated a chilling aura, completely contrasting with Mia’s joy. Looking at Mia’s raised lips, Liam asked coldly: “When my family went bankrupt back then… what is the real reason you left me?” Mia’s smile froze. She hadn’t expected Liam to ask this question now. Her eyes darted around, trying to find a suitable answer. But Liam’s gaze was too sharp, as if it could see right through her soul. “Liam, don’t listen to Grandpa’s nonsense. I had my reasons for leaving you back then.” Mia’s voice carried a slight tremor. Liam sneered coldly. “Reasons? What reason could make you leave me when I needed help the most?” Mia’s face turned pale as she hurriedly tried to cover up her panic. “When your family suddenly faced that crisis, I knew your burden had gotten much heavier. But I also knew you loved me deeply. I couldn’t bear to be a stumbling block for you, so I forced myself to leave, allowing you to focus entirely on your career.” “I was in agony too, but for your sake, I chose to bear it silently. Yet here you are, questioning me.”

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When my daughter was just a month old, my husband Arthur Vance’s enemies kidnapped her and demanded a hundred million dollar ransom. Arthur claimed the business was struggling and he couldn’t come up with the money. Yet, he turned around and won a two-hundred-million-dollar necklace at an auction, presenting it to his “first love,” Chloe. As I was consumed by absolute despair, Arthur’s biggest rival, Ethan Sterling, found me, checkbook in hand. He told me that if I divorced Arthur and chose him, he would pay the ransom. Without a second thought, I signed the papers. Ethan, wanting to be absolutely certain, even personally led a team of mercenaries to rescue my daughter. I firmly believed he was my ultimate salvation, my safe harbor for life. But when my daughter turned five, I saw him coaxing her to call Chloe “Mommy.” “Ethan, you’ve suffered so much for me and my daughter. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had to marry damaged goods like Maya, let alone get blood on your hands.” “Chloe, as long as you’re happy married into the Vance family, I’m happy. But you must keep this a secret. If Maya finds out her real daughter died long ago, she’ll go insane.” It turned out the man I thought was my savior was actually the mastermind who caused my daughter’s death. Watching Ethan, Chloe, and the little girl acting so intimately, like a perfect family… I didn’t hesitate for a second. I dialed the kidnapper’s number: “I have a three-hundred-million-dollar job. You interested?” 1 At the amusement park, Ethan watched our daughter, Lily, and Chloe with eyes full of utter devotion. He was so engrossed that he didn’t even notice me standing a short distance behind him. Just then, his secretary walked up to him. “Mr. Sterling, tomorrow is the anniversary of your wife’s daughter’s passing. Will you be going personally?” Ethan pulled his gaze away. “Yes. Even though it was an accident, I’m still the reason Maya’s daughter died. But thankfully, it all worked out and Chloe successfully married Arthur.” The secretary looked at Chloe, who was laughing and showing off in the distance, and sighed. “Ms. Chloe only has Arthur Vance in her heart. Even Miss Lily belongs to her and Mr. Vance. Why do you make such huge sacrifices for her?” “If the truth comes out, forget about you; the entire Sterling family will be ruined.” Ethan spoke with absolute certainty: “It won’t come out. Maya didn’t even recognize that the baby wasn’t hers back then. She’s raised her for five years now; why would she start suspecting anything?” The secretary was silent for a moment before speaking again: “But the Madam… she’s truly very good to you. It’s not fair to deceive her like this.” Ethan let out a self-deprecating laugh. “When it comes to love, where is the fairness? It’s not like I begged her to love me.” “If she really finds out and throws a fit, I’ll just give her another child.” I instantly felt like I had been plunged into an ice cavern. But over in the distance, Lily suddenly turned around and shouted loudly at me. “Mommy! Come play with us!” Everyone turned to look in my direction. Unable to dodge in time, I tripped and fell backward into a decorative fountain. Luckily, the pool was deep enough to hide me from their view. The water was freezing, biting into my bones, but I didn’t dare surface. Chloe’s mood was ruined. She threw her cotton candy on the ground: “What are you yelling for?! Don’t you see your real mom is right here?!” Startled, Lily started crying and ran away. “You’re a bad lady! You’re not my mommy!” Ethan, who usually doted on his daughter, looked stern. “Lily, apologize to your mother right now.” Lily cried even harder. My heart ached sharply, and my instinct was to run over and hold my daughter. But Ethan’s words from moments ago churned violently in my mind. That wasn’t my daughter. My daughter was murdered by Ethan a long time ago. They couldn’t even find her remains. She was only a month old! For Chloe’s sake, Ethan was actually cruel enough to hand her over to violent thugs. And his whole act of personally going with mercenaries to rescue her? Just a charade. A trick to ensure I wouldn’t realize he had swapped the babies. Yet I had seen him as my salvation, naively raising someone else’s daughter for him. No wonder Ethan’s secretary always looked at me with such pity. A fool like me must be a rare sight indeed. Lily wouldn’t stop crying, and unable to calm her down, Ethan had no choice but to take her and leave. Only then did I pathetically drag myself out of the fountain. The biting winter wind whipped against me, but I couldn’t feel the cold. I stumbled back to the villa. Seeing me completely soaked, Ethan rushed forward and wrapped me in a tight embrace. He yelled for the maids while using his own body heat to warm me. “Maya, how did you get like this?!” I said softly, “I went to the amusement park to find you and Lily, but I accidentally fell into a fountain.” His body stiffened. It took him a long time to mask the panic on his face. “Didn’t I tell you not to go? You look after Lily every day; you finally had a day to rest.” For the past five years, Ethan had taken one day a week to take Lily out by himself, telling me to rest. Seeing him treat Lily as his own flesh and blood had always filled my heart with sweetness. I never imagined that he was actually taking Lily out to bond with Chloe. My five years… were nothing but a lie. 2 “Maya, when you were at the amusement park… did you see anything?” I snapped out of my daze. Seeing Ethan cautiously probing, I lowered my eyes. “If I had seen you guys, I wouldn’t have ended up in this pathetic state.” Ethan finally breathed a sigh of relief. He tucked the blanket tighter around me, then took a bowl of ginger soup and personally fed it to me. His meticulous, encompassing care even drew envious glances from the surrounding maids. But the chill in my heart didn’t lessen. Ethan’s acting was truly spectacular. All these years, I hadn’t noticed a single flaw. After getting me cleaned up, Ethan carried me upstairs. Lily popped out, holding a wooden box in her hands. “Daddy, is this a love letter you wrote to Mommy?” I instinctively reached out to take it. But Ethan aggressively slapped my hand away and clutched the box tightly to his chest. Looking at my red, swollen hand, Lily burst into loud sobs. She raised her little fists and tried to hit Ethan. “You hit Mommy! You’re a bad man!” Ethan looked awkward and carefully explained, “This is something someone asked me to keep safe for them.” Before I could speak, his phone rang. It was a specific, custom ringtone. Lily cried even harder: “It’s the bad la—” Ethan clamped his hand over Lily’s mouth and ordered the nanny to quickly take her away. Then he apologetically told me he had some urgent business and needed to go out. He locked that box inside his safe. Unfortunately for him, his password was very easy to guess. Even Lily knew it: “It’s that bad lady’s birthday.” I opened the box. Inside were photos of Chloe from childhood to adulthood. That’s when I learned that Ethan and Chloe were childhood sweethearts. Inside the safe, there were also several property transfer agreements, all naming Chloe as the recipient. A quick glance showed the total value was in the billions. The dates were all exactly one day before Ethan and I got married. And at the very bottom of the safe was an envelope. Inside was a photo of Chloe holding a tiny infant. On the back, in Ethan’s handwriting, was written: “Starting today, I’m going to be a dad!” The large exclamation point radiated excitement and joy. And the date the photo was taken was the exact same day the kidnappers took my daughter. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my heart. I pinched my arm fiercely to stop the tears from falling. After a long time, crouching until my legs went numb, I finally calmed myself and stood up. I replied to the kidnapper’s message. The day after tomorrow. Pick me up at the docks. A single job worth three hundred million. I was certain Ethan would be willing to pay that much for Chloe. And once I reached international waters, I could completely erase all traces of my existence. Five years of history. Ethan, I’m going to use your own script to say goodbye to you. 3 Early the next morning, Ethan hurried back. His first priority wasn’t to check if I had a fever, but to rush into his study to check his safe. Watching his back, I let out a soft scoff. Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid of me finding out? Why so nervous? Suddenly, the police showed up at our door. They only left after repeatedly confirming that the overseas call I received wasn’t from a scammer. Ethan was confused. “Maya, those overseas calls monitored by the police are all from criminals. What are you doing?” Just as I was struggling to find an excuse, he hugged me comfortingly. “It’s okay. If you’re in some kind of trouble, just tell me. Those people are ruthless outlaws; they’re capable of anything.” This kind of limitless indulgence now only made me want to vomit. He clearly knew the people on the other end were psychopathic criminals, yet, for Chloe’s sake, he still unplugged the phone line and had them kidnap my daughter. I clenched my fists tightly, but my face showed the same adoration as always. “Ethan, I’m so lucky to have you.” Ethan brought medicinal oil to rub away the bruise on my hand. “I specifically went to the countryside yesterday to get this from an old herbalist.” Looking at the label clearly stating a manufacturing address in a Shanghai industrial park, I didn’t expose his lie. Yesterday, the notification for the hotel room he booked with Chloe had been sent to my phone. They hadn’t checked out until this morning. After rubbing in the oil, he brought out a dessert. “It’s from that hotel you love.” Opening it, I saw it was my favorite strawberry flavor. This hotel only prepared these specific desserts for their VIP guests. It seemed they had used the executive suite I usually booked yesterday. Originally a four-pack of mini cakes, there were only two left. It was impossible for Chloe not to notice this detail. Which meant she was deliberately trying to disgust me. She wanted to tell me that I only deserved her leftovers. Her leftover cake, her leftover man. The nausea in my stomach intensified, and I pushed the cake away. “I don’t have an appetite.” Ethan looked terrified. He immediately called the family doctor to give me a thorough checkup. Only after confirming I was fine did his deeply furrowed brow relax. “Maya, get some sleep. I’ll go make you some porridge.” As soon as he left, I threw the cake into the trash can. A short while later, there was a commotion downstairs. I stood by the window and looked down. It was a panicked-looking Chloe. She threw herself into Ethan’s arms like a frightened little rabbit. Ethan was startled at first, glancing up toward my room, but his arms didn’t let go. I don’t know what Chloe said, but Ethan’s expression turned to pure rage. The two of them quickly arrived outside my bedroom. As soon as he walked in, Ethan slapped me across the face. “What the hell were you thinking, contacting international fugitives to kidnap Chloe?!” “It’s not her fault Arthur refused to pay the ransom when your daughter was kidnapped!” “If I knew you were this kind of person, I never would have married you!” Unable to dodge in time, I was knocked to the floor. I knocked over a vase behind me, falling into a pile of shattered glass. I caught a glimpse of triumph in the tear-streaked Chloe’s eyes. I suddenly remembered that her brother worked in the police department. He must have known about the overseas call before anyone else. She had successfully married Arthur, yet she still wanted to completely monopolize Ethan. Ethan’s eyes glared with fury as he demanded I apologize to Chloe. The fake love he had shown me finally revealed its cold, ugly truth. I didn’t explain. I stood up and, right in front of Ethan, dialed that overseas number. “Hey, Sister-in-law. Why are you calling me at this hour? Is it an emergency?” The voice of Ethan’s younger cousin came through the phone. The color instantly drained from both of their faces. I hung up and asked them, “It was just an overseas call. What exactly are you two so terrified of?” “What, do these kidnappers offer assassination services too? You guys seem to know a lot about it.” Ethan looked extremely awkward. “I… I just heard the mercenaries talking about it when I went to rescue her that time.” I touched my stinging cheek. “Then demanding an apology from Ms. Chloe isn’t asking too much, is it?” But Ethan quickly stepped in front of Chloe: “Maya, Chloe was scared too. You shouldn’t be so unforgiving.” “I’ll go buy you a new bag later. Let’s just let this go.” I was covered in glass shards, blood seeping out of multiple cuts. Yet this man, who used to cry if I even scraped my knee, acted as if he couldn’t see a thing. I let out a cold laugh and was about to speak, when Chloe suddenly started crying. “Ethan, Maya must hate me for stealing Arthur, that’s why she set me up.” “It’s fine. If she just wants to vent her anger, I’ll get on my knees and kowtow to her.” “But I finally got pregnant, and I really can’t handle this kind of shock. Please, Maya, have mercy on me.” She barely bent her knees before clutching her stomach and collapsing to the side. Ethan hurriedly caught her in his arms, shot me a venomous glare, and carried her away. I don’t know how much time passed before Nanny Wang came into the room and gasped, “Madam! Why are you bleeding so much?!” I finally snapped back to reality, the pain registering belatedly. Nanny Wang rushed to call Ethan. I stopped her. “No need. He knows.” Ethan knew Chloe was lying. Yet he still defended her with reckless abandon. Just like five years ago, when he had my daughter kidnapped for her sake. Fine, then. Ethan, I will disappear soon, exactly as you wish. 4 The family doctor arrived to treat my wounds. But halfway through, he was called away by Ethan. He looked conflicted as he spoke into his phone, “Mr. Sterling, I don’t know how to handle high-risk pregnancies…” Ethan’s furious roar on the other end was so loud I could hear it. I told the doctor to go; I could handle the rest of the bandages myself. Nanny Wang helped me pull the shards out of my back. Once my wounds were treated, I noticed that all the bodyguards assigned to the house had been called away too. They even took Lily with them, leaving me alone in the house. Xiao Jiang, the head of security who usually accompanied me, repeatedly warned before leaving, “Even though no one is here, the villa’s security system is top-notch. Please, whatever you do, do not go outside.” Watching the twenty-plus bodyguards all head toward the hospital, I finally opened the text message on my phone. “Crossed the border. Still the docks?” I replied “Come to the house” and deleted the message. Back then, Ethan hired them to kidnap my daughter, but later, afraid they would leak the secret, he tried to silence them. During the ensuing firefight, an “accident” happened, leading to my daughter’s tragic death. The current leader of the Black Sea Syndicate was the illegitimate son of the previous boss. Ethan had always been hyper-vigilant, paranoid that they would return for revenge. Chloe sent me a photo from the hospital—it was Ethan carefully feeding her bird’s nest soup. The hallway outside her room was lined with bodyguards. She sent another message: “How does it feel to be an abandoned wife again? Tastes pretty good, right?” “I just casually mentioned that seeing you ruined my mood, and Ethan immediately left you at home.” “He even said you’d be perfect for drawing enemy fire.” I ignored her. I called Ethan, but he hung up on me. Half a day later, he finally sent a text: “Be good and stay at home. I’ll be back when I’m done here.” He didn’t mention a single word about taking all the bodyguards. Shortly after, the Black Sea Syndicate broke into the house. The security alarms blared. An alert must have definitely been sent to Ethan’s phone, yet he remained completely silent. I looked at my phone and smiled. I dropped my lighter and set the villa ablaze. “Let’s go.” The men from the syndicate stopped me: “Didn’t you say Ethan Sterling’s daughter was here too?” I threw a DNA paternity report at him. “Send this to Ethan. He’ll pay three hundred million to keep it quiet.” “This is also the real reason your syndicate was wiped out back then. How you use it is up to you.” “Also, didn’t Chloe hire you to kill me? Prepare a fake corpse and send it to her. That’s almost four hundred million between the two of them.” Only then did the syndicate men lead me to the car. It wasn’t until I was already out at sea that Ethan finally sent a message. “Maya, stop messing around. Turn off the security alarms. I’ll be back in a little while.” It was almost funny. He hadn’t even opened the security feed to check. He was absolutely certain I was just throwing a tantrum and faking it. But it didn’t matter. Soon, the entire villa would be engulfed in flames. And the syndicate’s ransom note would be delivered right to his hands. I tossed my phone into the ocean. I watched as the syndicate hackers infiltrated the hospital’s security cameras. At the hospital, the police and the secretary arrived simultaneously. Both groups looked incredibly anxious, and their words collided as they spoke. “Mr. Sterling, your wife has been kidnapped by the pirate syndicate.” “Mr. Sterling, the Madam seems to have discovered the young miss isn’t her biological daughter.” 5 Ethan felt like he was hallucinating; otherwise, why would both of them be telling him such absurd things at the same time? The secretary tactfully stepped back. The police officer began detailing the case. The moment they detected the Black Sea Syndicate entering the country, they immediately notified Ethan to take precautions. They never expected Ethan to actually leave his wife alone at home. Ethan frowned deeply. “The security alarms going off at the house is just my wife playing a prank.” The police officer sighed. “But your villa is already on fire.” Hearing the commotion, Chloe walked out of her room. “Oh my, I didn’t expect Maya to be so impulsive. Actually burning down the house just to get your attention.” “Officer, you say Maya was kidnapped. Did you find any clues?” The officer shook his head. Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “There you go. If she was really kidnapped, Ethan would have received a ransom note. But we’ve been here all night and haven’t received a thing.” Ethan felt something was wrong. This kind of destructive tantrum wasn’t in Maya’s nature. Even back when Arthur completely ignored her and their kidnapped daughter. She had remained calm, desperately trying to scrape together the money from anyone she could. But just as Ethan was about to explain this, Chloe interrupted him. The police officer, helpless, advised them to be careful and left. Ethan was just about to call Maya when the secretary stepped forward again. “Mr. Sterling, please look at what the Madam sent.” Ethan took it. It was a DNA paternity report. It clearly stated that Maya and Lily were not biologically related. Ethan’s breath hitched, and his grip on the paper tightened. Maya… did she finally find out? Chloe leaned over to look and scoffed. “See? I told you Maya burning the house down was just her throwing a fit.” “She’s just trying to vent her anger. Nothing’s going to happen to her.” Listening to Chloe’s seemingly logical explanation, the unease in Ethan’s heart refused to dissipate. Ethan looked at his secretary. “Is my wife still unreachable?” The secretary nodded grimly. Ethan’s brow furrowed tightly. He ordered, “It’s only been three hours since the alarm went off. She can’t have gotten far. Take your men and find her immediately.” “Take all the bodyguards. You must find her as quickly as possible.” Chloe pouted in dissatisfaction. “If you let the secretary take everyone away, what about our safety?” “You know the Black Sea Syndicate are a bunch of ruthless murderers.” Ethan suddenly realized something was off and grabbed Chloe’s arm. “How did you know the people seeking revenge were the Black Sea Syndicate? I never told you that.” Only then did Chloe realize she had slipped up. Ethan already felt guilty toward Maya. If he knew she was the one who brought the syndicate here… Thinking quickly, Chloe clutched her stomach and let tears fall. “Ethan, the police officer just said it.” “I finally managed to get pregnant, and you treat me like this… Didn’t you say that as long as Arthur and I were happy, you’d do anything for me?” Only then did Ethan loosen his grip. The Chloe in front of him had red, teary eyes, looking like a frightened little rabbit. Normally, whenever she put on this face, he would instantly soften. But today, he only felt annoyed. Ethan suppressed his agitation and forced a smile, guiding Chloe back into the hospital room. “I’ve just been too exhausted these past two days; I lost my temper.” “Focus on your pregnancy. If you’re worried about safety, I can leave. The syndicate is after me.” Ethan stood up to leave, but Chloe, who had just been talking about being scared, grabbed him. “No, Ethan. If you leave, I’ll be even more scared.” He had never seen Chloe so incredibly dependent on him before. In the past, Chloe only cared about Arthur and was always indifferent to him. The only time she gave him a real smile was when he offered to raise her daughter for her. But what he used to desperately crave, he now found suffocating. Maya had never acted like this. Thinking of this, Ethan stood up abruptly. Ignoring Chloe’s calls, he walked straight out. He couldn’t just let the secretary look; he had to search too. Maya must be out of her mind with grief right now; otherwise, she would never have done something as extreme as burning down the house. He was the one who wronged her regarding their daughter. Once he found Maya, he would dedicate himself entirely to her. And they would have a child of their own. For the rest of his life, he would use all his love to make it up to Maya. But the moment he stepped out of the hospital, he received a call from his secretary. “Bad news, Mr. Sterling. The Black Sea Syndicate just delivered a ransom note.”

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Just before returning to work after the New Year holiday, I managed to squeeze in a tonsillectomy. Post-op, a nurse came to set up my IV drip. I immediately spotted “Penicillin” on the bottle. My throat was too sore to speak easily, so I could only point to the “Penicillin Allergy” line on the patient information card by my bed for the nurse to see. “Excuse me, I’m allergic to penicillin. The doctor prescribed a different antibiotic, a cephalosporin. Did you perhaps get the wrong medication?” To my surprise, after glancing at the prescription, she didn’t stop. Instead, she smiled and moved to inject the IV. “You need anti-inflammatories after surgery, otherwise it will affect your recovery!” “Penicillin is an anti-inflammatory. I haven’t prescribed you the wrong medication, don’t worry.” 1. I slightly opened my mouth, watching her, unheeding, as the needle was about to pierce the rubber stopper of the medicine bottle. I quickly spoke to stop her. “Miss, I’m allergic to penicillin, I can’t have this! The doctor prescribed a different anti-inflammatory for me!” Due to my panic, my voice involuntarily rose. My throat screamed with pain, like swallowing razor blades. My brows furrowed in agony. The nurse flinched, seemingly startled by my voice. Her hand trembled, and the penicillin vial dropped onto the rolling cart. “Patient, please don’t shout. You just had a tonsillectomy and shouldn’t strain your voice.” “Penicillin is an anti-inflammatory; it can help your wound heal.” “The other anti-inflammatory you mentioned has similar effects to penicillin, and the price is about the same.” Listening to her excuses, I instantly let out a mirthless laugh. I was talking about an allergy, and she was talking about price. My anger simmered, but the post-surgical exhaustion left me with no energy to unleash it. So, I reached for the information card at my bedside and held it close to her face, pointing to the line about precautions. I spoke for the third time. “You’re a nurse, for crying out loud. You should recognize the words ‘penicillin allergy,’ shouldn’t you?” “In severe cases, it can lead to anaphylactic shock and death. I, an outsider, shouldn’t have to tell you that, should I?” “Can you not see this line of text?” The nurse’s eyes reddened, and she nervously wrung the corner of her pristine white uniform. “Dr. Chen told me to remind you to speak less and give you anti-inflammatory medication. Please don’t make things difficult for me; I didn’t arrange this.” “I’m a nurse; I understand things you don’t. Penicillin is an anti-inflammatory, specifically used for post-operative inflammation.” 2. I was utterly drained. I truly wanted to just lie down on that hospital bed and never wake up, if only to avoid seeing the idiot in front of me. Taking time off for surgery had already messed up my work schedule. If I didn’t have a crucial meeting with a client in three days to present a proposal, I wouldn’t have been in such a rush to get this surgery done. I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths. I silently chanted to myself, It’s fine, we’re all just trying to make a living. The sooner I sorted out this anti-inflammatory situation, the sooner my throat would recover. Any delay with the client meeting would impact my promotion. Having composed myself, I opened my eyes. I saw several patients standing at the doorway, peering in. Perhaps my argument with the nurse had been too loud, attracting their attention. The nurse wore a mask, so her expression was unclear, but her reddened eyes betrayed her emotions. The older women, not understanding the full context, had only heard the argument between me and the nurse. They didn’t know what exactly we were fighting about. Seeing our positions, their first assumption was that an unreasonable patient was making trouble for a nurse. A kind older woman spoke up, trying to mediate: “Oh dear, stop arguing, both of you. It’s not easy for anyone.” “She’s just a student nurse, and she’s even paying to be here. If she’s done anything wrong, just be understanding.” “Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. You just had surgery, get some rest.” The nurse, hearing someone speak up for her, gave the older woman a grateful look. She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. She picked up the penicillin and walked to the IV stand. “Patient, it’s fine if you’re not satisfied with my work, but I still have to do what I’m supposed to, because it’s my duty.” “Please lie down. I’m going to start your IV.” My head instantly felt twice its size. I frantically waved my hand, trying to stop the nurse. “Call your head nurse, or Dr. Chen will do.” “My throat hurts so much right now; I don’t want to waste any more breath.” The nurse clutched the medication, glancing at the older woman at the door. Living up to her expectations, the older woman championed her. “Hey! What’s wrong with young people these days? So arrogant!” “She’s just doing her job, practically begging you, and you still won’t leave her alone.” “You have no skill yourself, so you just complain. You’ll never get rich in this life, will you?” Another grateful look. With a newfound ally, the nurse inserted the needle into the medication bottle. She grabbed my arm, preparing to connect the other end to the IV cannula on my hand. “I understand you’re uncomfortable after surgery, but don’t joke about your health.” “If you don’t get the penicillin, what if your throat gets inflamed again? You’ll be the one suffering.” I widened my eyes, pushing the nurse away with my palm. The anger made me cough violently. My throat hurt even more. I took a deep breath, feeling my blood pressure rise. I was about to lose my temper when the nurse suddenly dropped to the floor. She hugged her knees and burst into tears. “I beg you, please just get your IV. Don’t make a fuss anymore.” “If the head nurse finds out, she’ll scold me again. I’m already not getting paid as an intern, and I have to pay out of my own pocket. If I get a demerit, I’m finished.” The entire room filled with her sobs. She rattled off her misfortunes like spilling beans, describing her alcoholic father, love-struck mother, useless younger brother, and her own pitiable self. If it were the old me, I might have sympathized with her plight. But right now, all I wanted was for a doctor to switch out the penicillin for a different anti-inflammatory, properly treat my throat, and smoothly complete my upcoming client meeting. 3. People are always sympathetic towards the seemingly weak. Especially older women. Their sense of justice overflowing, they can’t stand to see someone taking advantage of another. The older women at the door began to move forward, ready to lecture me. The nurse looked up, her eyes swimming with tears, at me. I stood by the hospital bed, the vigorous movements just now causing the IV cannula on my hand to seep blood. My throat ached terribly, and a burning rage was stifled in my chest, making me feel even worse. Unable to speak, and being roasted over a fire, a sense of powerlessness washed over me. I no longer wanted to argue with a nurse who refused to listen. I turned to walk towards the ward door, heading for the nurses’ station. The nurse stood up, wiping a tear, and forcibly held me back. Her grip was surprisingly strong; her right hand tightly squeezed the back of my left hand, pressing directly on the site of my IV cannula. “If you want to find the head nurse, fine.” “But first, you need to get your penicillin. Once that’s done, I’ll call the head nurse immediately, and you can deal with me as you wish.” “I only have one request: don’t play games with your own health.” A sharp sting shot through the site of my IV cannula. I grimaced, my face flushed with pain. A trickle of blood ran down the back of my hand. She instantly panicked, grabbing a medical gauze from the rolling cart to stop the bleeding. All the while, she chided me for being unruly. “See? Wouldn’t it be better to just get the IV? Now, because of this fuss, your IV cannula will have to be reinserted. More suffering for you.” I was truly speechless with frustration. My throat suddenly hurt, necessitating surgery, which had already messed up my work schedule. And now I was stuck with this nurse. I couldn’t even speak my mind for fear of irritating the wound. I glared fiercely at the nurse and pulled my hand back. My gaze fell on the name tag clipped to her chest: Student Nurse, Chloe Sterling. I committed her name to memory. I swallowed hard and pulled out my phone, ready to call the police. Originally, I’d thought to be more lenient, just letting the hospital assign a different nurse to my IV, and that would be that. But Chloe Sterling had repeatedly twisted my words, making it seem like I was the one in the wrong. With my left hand bleeding, I could only operate with one hand. Just as I unlocked my phone, Chloe Sterling snatched it away, tossing it into the toilet bowl. She pressed the flush button. The phone was swallowed by the drain. “Patient, please don’t interfere with my work.” “I told you, if you want to complain about me, you can, but you have to finish the penicillin first.” “If you want to play on your phone, you can do it when you’re well. I’m going to reinsert your IV cannula now.” In an instant, my mind reeled. My brand-new phone, less than a week old, had just been flushed down the toilet. It cost me two months’ salary! And it held all the work documents I’d planned to organize during my hospital stay! Under my furious gaze, Chloe Sterling finally reacted, her words suddenly stuttering. “Health is the foundation of revolution, you can always buy a new phone, right?” “Just lie down first; I’ll give you the injection.” “I’m just too worried about your health…” 4. I felt utterly drained. My head swam. I was physically and mentally defeated. “I beg you, can you please just leave?” “Call your head nurse, alright?” I rasped, pointing towards the door, just wishing she would vanish from my sight. I feared losing control and wanting to tear her apart. But my current condition wouldn’t allow it. Minimizing losses was what I needed to consider right now. My phone was gone, but I still had my laptop. WeChat usually synchronized chat history on the phone, so I could still see messages from colleagues. As for the phone… I took a few deep breaths, then wearily glanced at the toilet. Even if I fished it out, I wouldn’t want it anymore. The necessary compensation would still be pursued. The immediate priority was solving the IV drip problem. My leave was tightly scheduled. Three days of anti-inflammatory medication after surgery, and then I could meet with the client the day after discharge. Thinking this, I dragged my exhausted body past Chloe Sterling, who was waiting to administer the IV. “I’m saying this one last time: I’m allergic to penicillin. It’s lethal.” “The doctor promised me a cephalosporin. Whether you mixed up the medication or the doctor made a mistake in prescribing it, I’m no longer going to pursue it.” Perhaps my gaze was too sharp, because Chloe Sterling visibly shivered. The older woman at the door clicked her tongue. “What a temper. The nurse is being so considerate, and you’re still so unappreciative.” I scoffed, retorting, “The knife isn’t in your flesh, so you don’t know the pain.” “If you sympathize with her so much, why don’t you pay for my phone?” Hearing the mention of money, the older woman fell silent, awkwardly fanning herself. “What does that have to do with me? I didn’t throw it.” Chloe Sterling, hearing about compensation, visibly tensed. She dropped to her knees with a thud, slapping her own face repeatedly. “Patient, I apologize if you’re not satisfied with my service, alright?” “My mother pulled strings and paid a lot of money to get me in here. If I don’t pass my internship, I’m finished.” “Internships don’t pay. I don’t have money to repay you. My father would kill me if he found out.” She whimpered, crying. “Please…” For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. My steps halted. I was the kind of person who yielded to gentleness but resisted force. My sympathy was too strong. But I wasn’t a saint. I frowned, telling her to get up. “If you don’t have the money, just write an IOU for now. You can pay it back when you have it.” “I won’t complain about you, but please don’t cause me any more trouble.” “Can you just get a different nurse to come, confirm my medication, and give me the anti-inflammatory IV again? Can you do that?” Chloe Sterling whimpered twice, then climbed up from the floor. She tidied up the rolling cart, preparing to leave. “Thank you, you’re so kind.” Watching her leave, the onlookers also dispersed. I could finally lie down on the hospital bed. I let out a long sigh. My head hurt. My throat hurt. My whole body ached. After lying down for a few minutes, I felt thirsty. I opened my weary eyelids, got out of bed, and headed to the water room with my cup. Passing by the fire escape, the door was ajar. A whiff of cigarette smoke assailed my nose. I instinctively frowned, wanting to close the fire escape door tightly. But then I heard a familiar voice. “Damn it, such a hassle.” “Penicillin is an anti-inflammatory, isn’t it?” “I think she just thinks penicillin is more expensive than other anti-inflammatories and doesn’t want to pay for it.” “So she can only make things difficult for me.” “Do these overworked grunts think they’re royalty when they come to the hospital? Later, when I’m giving her the injection, I’ll intentionally bump her. Let her suffer.”

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“Chloe, you’ve been cut from the Physics Olympiad team.” When the academic advisor’s voice came through the phone, I was in the library double-checking the final line of data for an experiment. Outside the window, the oak leaves had just turned yellow. I was only eighteen, still naive enough to believe the world operated strictly on test scores. I hung up and opened my student email. “Following a comprehensive review, it has been determined that Chloe Bennett is no longer a suitable fit for the International Physics Olympiad training camp. You are dismissed effective immediately.” Not a suitable fit. I gripped my mouse tightly. Three months ago, at the national qualifiers, I was the only student to score a perfect 100 in every single category. Theory, experimental, and the comprehensive interview. Every judge said they hadn’t seen a prodigy like me in a decade. And now, suddenly, I wasn’t “suitable.” 1 I marched straight to the Physics Department building. “Is Professor Lee here?” I knocked on the faculty room door, my palms slick with sweat. Three professors looked up at me. I recognized one of them—Professor Davis, the assistant coach for the training team. “Ah, Chloe,” Professor Davis adjusted his glasses. “Can I help you?” “I want to know why I was dismissed.” I held up my phone with the email open. “I didn’t receive any feedback from a review, and I have zero disciplinary infractions.” “Well…” Professor Davis glanced at the other two. “It was the result of a comprehensive evaluation by the team committee.” “What evaluation?” I refused to back down. “I ranked first overall in the last mock exam. My experimental error margin was the lowest on the team. The head coach told me I was the strongest contender for the gold medal.” “Chloe, Olympiads aren’t just about test scores.” A female professor spoke up. Her voice was gentle, but her words were ice-cold. “We also look at well-roundedness, teamwork, psychological resilience…” “Which of those did I fail?” I interrupted her. “Over the past three months, I’ve tutored three teammates in theory. I’m always the last to leave the lab. My psychological evaluation scored an A.” The office fell silent for a few seconds. Professor Davis sighed. “Chloe, this is the university’s decision. We’re just enforcing it.” “What university? The national team selection is overseen directly by the Department of Education. The university doesn’t have the authority to cut team members.” “The point is, you’ve been cut.” The female professor stood up. “Go back and study for your finals. Stop thinking about the Olympiad.” I stood there, staring at them. Professor Davis looked down and shuffled some papers. The female professor sat back down and stared at her monitor. The third professor just got up and walked out. No one gave me a real answer. When I walked out of the building, the sky had turned overcast. An oak leaf drifted down, brushing past my shoulder. I unlocked my phone and opened the Olympiad team’s Discord group. There were twenty-three people in the group. I was the twenty-fourth, and I had been kicked. I typed a message: “Does anyone know why I was cut?” A red exclamation mark appeared next to it. “You have been removed from this server.” I stared at the screen for ten seconds, put my phone away, and headed toward my dorm. On the way, I ran into Olivia, a teammate. When she saw me, her eyes darted away. “Olivia,” I called out. She stopped, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Oh, hey Chloe… what’s up?” “I got cut from the team. Do you know why?” “I… I don’t know.” She picked up her pace. “I have to get to the lab.” “You asked to borrow my lab notes just last week,” I said. “You said I explained things better than the professors.” She blushed, stammered for a bit, and finally said, “Chloe, just stop asking. It’s not going to do you any good.” Then she practically ran away. I watched her back and finally understood. It wasn’t about my grades. It wasn’t about my ability. It was about something else entirely. 2 That night, I couldn’t sleep. At 2:00 AM, I got out of bed, booted up my laptop, and logged onto the national training team’s official website. The roster had been updated. My name was gone. In my spot was a new name: Harper Sterling. I didn’t know this person. I hadn’t seen that name in the top 100 at the qualifiers. I searched her name on the site and found zero records of her participating in any prior physics competitions. Someone with absolutely zero competition history had replaced the only student with perfect scores. I took a screenshot. Then, I drafted an email to the Department of Education’s Olympiad Office. I attached my transcripts, my qualifier certificates, my original acceptance letter to the training camp, and the dismissal notice I had just received. When I finally hit send, the sky was beginning to lighten. I lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. I knew this email might just disappear into the void, but I had to send it. Just like three years ago, when I wrote down the final answer on my high school entrance physics exam—I’ve always believed that what’s right is right, and what’s wrong is wrong. Seven days later, I got a reply. Not from the Department of Education, but from the university’s Dean of Students office. “Chloe Bennett, please report to the Dean of Students office tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM for a meeting.” There were three people waiting for me in the office. Dean Miller, the Dean of the Physics Department, and a middle-aged woman I had never seen before. She was wearing a tailored Chanel suit with flawless makeup. “Have a seat, Chloe.” Dean Miller was a balding man who always spoke with a smile, but his eyes were entirely devoid of warmth. I sat down. “Regarding the email you sent to the Department of Education, we’ve seen it,” Dean Miller got straight to the point. “We asked you here today to clear things up and avoid any misunderstandings.” “What misunderstanding?” I asked. “Your removal from the training team was a standard roster adjustment,” the Dean of Physics said. “The competition team needs to stay dynamic. Sometimes we need to inject fresh blood.” “Who is Harper Sterling?” I asked. “I can’t find her in any competition records.” The office went quiet. The middle-aged woman spoke up. Her voice was incredibly soft and cultured. “Harper is my daughter. She was studying abroad before, so she doesn’t have a domestic competition record, but she’s won awards in international competitions.” “What awards? Which competitions?” I pressed. “That’s not important,” the woman smiled. “What’s important is that Harper’s overall profile makes her highly suitable to represent the national team. She has a global perspective, is fluent in French and Spanish, and has excellent psychological resilience…” “So you replaced the only student with a perfect score?” I asked. “Chloe!” Dean Miller raised his voice. “Watch your tone!” “My tone?” I looked at him. “I spent three years preparing for this. Since freshman year of high school, I’ve woken up at 5:00 AM every day to do practice problems. I spent every winter and summer break locked in a lab. I got perfect scores across the board at the qualifiers. And now, with a single sentence, you replace me with a nepo baby with zero verifiable records, and you’re telling me to watch my tone?” The office fell deathly silent. The middle-aged woman’s smile vanished. “Miss Bennett,” she said slowly. “I know you are very talented, but these competitions aren’t just about test scores. Harper’s father is Deputy Superintendent Sterling of the State Department of Education. He has always been a strong supporter of this university’s STEM programs. Harper joining the training team is simply a reflection of Superintendent Sterling’s trust in the university’s work.” I understood. I understood everything. ‘Global perspective,’ ‘psychological resilience’—it was all bullshit. The real reason was that her dad was the Deputy Superintendent. 3 “And so?” I asked. “Because her dad is the Deputy Superintendent, I have to give up my spot for her?” “It’s not giving it up; it’s an adjustment,” Dean Miller said smoothly. “The university will compensate you. Priority consideration for grad school recommendations, full-ride scholarships—we can arrange all of that for you.” “I want my spot on the Olympiad team,” I said. “That’s impossible.” The Dean of Physics shook his head. “The roster has already been submitted. It can’t be changed.” “Then I’ll appeal to the Department of Education.” “Chloe!” Dean Miller slammed his hand on the desk, standing up. “Don’t push your luck! With one word from Superintendent Sterling, you won’t just lose this competition—you might not even graduate!” I looked at them. Three adults, sitting in a comfortable, heated office, casually dictating the trajectory of my life. I thought about the day of the qualifiers. I stood at the lab station for six hours. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my pen, but I still finished logging every single data point. The head judge told me my lab report was the most flawless he had ever seen. Now, flawless wasn’t enough to beat a Deputy Superintendent. “Fine,” I said. Dean Miller let out a visible sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” “I’m being reasonable.” I stood up. “I’ll step down.” “That’s the right attitude…” “But I’m not giving up.” I looked directly at the middle-aged woman. “Tell Harper Sterling she stole my spot, but she won’t be able to hold onto it. The Olympiad isn’t a dinner party; it requires actual, raw capability. If she’s actually a genius, I’ll accept it. But if she’s an empty shell, then standing on that stage will only bring her absolute humiliation.” The woman’s face drained of color. “What do you mean by that?” “I mean,” I enunciated every word, “I’ll be watching her. If she brings home a gold medal, I’ll bow to her. But if she can’t even pass the national finals, the one humiliated won’t be me—it’ll be her, and her Deputy Superintendent father.” I turned and walked out. As the door clicked shut, I heard Dean Miller cursing: “Arrogant little brat! She doesn’t know her place!” My place. All I knew was that what’s right is right, and what’s wrong is wrong. 4 News of my dismissal spread through the Physics Department like wildfire. Some pitied me, some laughed at me, but most chose to stay silent. Olivia secretly sought me out later, cornering me in a quiet section of the library. “Chloe, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I was too scared to say anything the other day… Harper’s mom came to the training camp. She said if Harper didn’t make the team, Superintendent Sterling would slash our department’s funding.” “So I was the sacrificial lamb?” I asked. “Not just you.” Olivia offered a bitter smile. “The team originally had five official members. Now there are six. Harper took your spot, but of the other four, two were alternates who got bumped up. They originally didn’t make the cut either.” “And they just accepted it?” “What choice did they have?” Olivia said. “Dean Miller talked to them. He told them if they made a fuss, their guaranteed grad school spots would vanish.” I looked at her. This girl, who had once sworn we would win gold medals together, now only had fear in her eyes. “Are you going to stay on the team?” I asked. “I…” She looked down. “My family is from a poor rural area. That guaranteed grad school spot is too important to me. Chloe, I can’t afford to fight like you…” “I understand,” I said. And I truly did. I wasn’t naive to the ways of the world; I just refused to surrender to them. After that day, I moved out of the training team’s dorms. I didn’t have much. One suitcase fit everything. As I walked out of the building, Harper Sterling happened to be walking in, accompanied by her mother. They both saw me. Harper was undeniably gorgeous. She was decked out in designer clothes, holding the newest iPhone. She gave me a passing glance, her eyes flat and indifferent, like she was looking at a piece of furniture. Her mother, however, stopped and walked over to me. “Chloe.” She still used that sickeningly soft tone. “Harper is officially joining the team today. You’re still classmates, so I hope you can get along.” “I’m no longer on the team,” I said. “Well, it’s the same thing,” she smiled. “Oh, by the way, Dean Miller told me he approved you for the highest-tier merit scholarship as compensation. You should learn to be grateful.” I didn’t say a word. She kept walking, entering the building with her daughter. I stood there, watching their backs. The highest-tier scholarship. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars to buy my spot in an international competition. To buy three years of blood, sweat, and tears. To buy the opportunity that could have changed my life. Ten thousand dollars. I dragged my suitcase toward the regular student dorms. I passed a few classmates on the way. The looks they gave me were incredibly complex. Some opened their mouths to speak, but ultimately said nothing. I knew that from today on, in their eyes, I was just a stubborn idiot who didn’t know how to play the game. But so what? I got to my new dorm and unpacked my box. The first thing I saw was my thick physics notebook. From freshman year of high school until now, I had filled six of these. This was the last one, still half-empty. I opened it to the very last page. I had written one line: “Goal: International Gold Medal.” I took out a pen and wrote a new line right beneath it: “Even if they block the road, I will carve my own.”

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My department director, Linda, always said I was her favorite in the whole company. She praised my sharp mind and hard work, constantly boasting that I was her star pupil, hand-picked and trained by her. The other colleagues envied me, saying Linda favored me and that sticking with her guaranteed a bright future. Just because I casually mentioned having a sensitive stomach once, Linda started bringing me a stomach-soothing breakfast every single morning. She even spent her free time in the office researching and making different kinds of stomach-nourishing porridges and cakes, bringing me a new variety every day. She constantly reminded me not to skip breakfast and to take care of my health. However, her cooking skills were terrible. Either the multigrain porridge wasn’t cooked through and nearly chipped my teeth, or the cakes had too much baking soda. Our department manager held a concurrent position at the head office and was away year-round, leaving Linda practically in charge of everything in the team. Occasionally, I would vent to my colleagues about the breakfasts, but they would just tease me. “You’re complaining about a good thing! Linda manages the whole team yet still keeps your stomach in mind. Be grateful.” I could only swallow my grievances and keep my mouth shut. That is, until my third year at the company, when I landed a massive 150-million-dollar contract. The company specifically threw a victory banquet for me at a five-star hotel. The big boss even announced he would give me a special individual bonus to recognize my achievement. At the banquet, Linda personally brought over a thermos container, smiling as she said, “Chloe, your stomach is sensitive. You shouldn’t eat the heavy, spicy food from outside. I specially made you some clear noodle soup. Eat up.” Then, still smiling, she handed me a thick red envelope. I opened it to find a single coin. A shiny, one-dollar coin. Looking at the soggy, clumped-up noodles, I slammed the thermos right in front of her. “Keep your fake concern. I want my rightful bonus, every single cent of it, right now!” 1 Broth splashed everywhere. Yellowed vegetable leaves lay limply on top of the clumped, sticky noodles. It looked sloppy and half-hearted. All my colleagues froze, then someone whispered, “So ungrateful. Linda treats her so well, and she embarrasses her like this over a little bonus.” Manager Davis also looked angry, his face darkening: “Chloe, what kind of scene are you making? Director Linda made that stomach-soothing soup specifically for you, keeping your health in mind. The bonus is a gesture from the company. Is this any way to act?” Linda’s eyes instantly reddened. She pulled out a tissue and dabbed delicately at her eyes, her voice soft and fragile: “It’s all my fault. I didn’t plan it well. The noodles got soggy and made Chloe feel wronged.” “As for the bonus, it was decided by the top management. One dollar symbolizes a smooth and prosperous journey ahead. It represents the company’s high hopes for you.” “Chloe, I truly value talent. Salespeople easily ruin their stomachs. If the bonus is too large, I was afraid it would go to your head and you’d lose focus…” A wave of condemnation instantly washed over me. Some said I was spoiled and ungrateful, that I had forgotten Linda’s mentorship all for the sake of money. Looking at Linda’s aggrieved and “considerate” act, I let out a cold snort. I pulled a stack of documents from my bag, placed the one-dollar coin on top, and waved them at everyone. “Spoiled and ungrateful? Forgot my mentorship?” “In my first year, here are the files for twenty-eight contracts. The total bonuses amounted to 360,000 dollars, but every single time, they were credited to Linda, because she claimed the clients were ‘company resources.’” “Every time, she used the excuse that the sales department had high expenses, that we needed to buy gifts and give kickbacks to clients, and directly pocketed the money.” “For this 150-million-dollar mega-contract, I ground it out for four months, traveling to ten different cities to negotiate. You give me a one-dollar bonus and claim it’s for my own good? I want to know, whose pocket did the 150,000-dollar bonus from head office actually end up in?” Everyone was stunned. The color instantly drained from Linda’s face. Exposed, she still tried to maintain her composure, bending down to pick up the thermos, her voice choked with emotion. “Chloe, I’m truly doing this for your own good. Why can’t you understand?” “To be in sales, you need a healthy body. You’re young and like junk food. I’ve brought you breakfast for a whole year to protect your stomach. How many clean, healthy meals have I made for you?” “As for the bonus, you’re still young. You should look at the big picture, prioritize the company’s interests, and be humble. That’s how the bosses will value you, and you’ll get promoted faster.” A senior colleague, Sarah, quickly tried to smooth things over, pulling my arm. “Chloe, don’t be so stubborn. Linda is doing this for your future. At every sales meeting, she specifically mentions your name and praises you. We’ve all seen how she takes care of you.” Other colleagues chimed in. “Chloe, apologize to Linda quickly. She’s giving you major responsibilities and trying to groom you. How can you be so short-sighted and only care about immediate, petty profits?” Linda immediately played along, looking at me with a face full of “heartache.” “No need for an apology. We’re mentor and mentee, it’s what I should do.” “I just value talent and want to cultivate more capable and visionary elites for the company.” “Chloe, if the food isn’t good, you can tell me, and I’ll remake it. As for the bonus, if it really comes down to it, I can give you my share. Just don’t be angry.” She reached out to affectionately grab my hand. The smell of that bland noodle soup clinging to her, combined with her hypocritical posturing, made my stomach churn. I shook off her hand, my voice cold as ice. “Linda, I can take care of my own health. I don’t need you to go out of your way for me.” “As for the bonus, I earned it with my own ability. Why would I want your share? If head office wants to groom someone, they look at their capability, not someone who violates company policy, arbitrarily alters the bonus structure, and causes internal friction and drain among the staff.” Hearing this, my colleagues gossiped even louder, rolling their eyes and accusing me. “It’s just a bowl of noodles and a bonus. Is it worth throwing such a huge tantrum?” “Exactly. Linda remembered her sensitive stomach every single day for a year. Anyone else would be overflowing with gratitude. Instead, she publicly turns on her for a little money.” “Young people nowadays only care about profit. They’re so restless and materialistic, no sense of loyalty at all. Linda really nurtured an ungrateful snake.” 2 Manager Davis’s face was livid. He slammed his hand heavily on the table. “Chloe, shut your mouth! Director Linda ran herself ragged organizing this victory banquet and even prepared a gift specifically for you. What right do you have to slander her like this? You must apologize to Director Linda.” As soon as he finished speaking, Linda promptly had her assistant bring over a gift box and placed it in front of me, smiling. “Chloe, I know you work hard, constantly staying up late to finish proposals. This is a special gift for you: the newest lumbar support cushion. You sit for long periods, and your back suffers. This will make it more comfortable.” I opened the box to find a flimsy cloth cushion clearly bought from a cheap dollar store. The foam was completely flat, the edges were fraying, and the printed pattern was blurry. My accumulated anger finally exploded. I threw the cushion on the floor and stomped on it hard. “Who wants this garbage?! I brought in 150 million in sales, and the company can’t even give me a proper reward. You try to fool me with this? You dismiss me with one dollar? Do you think I’m a beggar?” The crowd looked at the cushion, then at the single coin in my hand. Their expressions grew complex, but some still sided with Linda. Sarah glared at me. “What’s wrong with the cushion? As long as it’s practical, that’s what matters. Linda remembered you have back problems from sitting too long. That kind of thoughtfulness is rare.” “Exactly. Back when we made sales, we didn’t even get a word of praise. The fact that Linda even thinks of you is good enough, yet you’re being so picky.” Linda quickly picked up the cushion from the floor, lovingly dusting it off. She grabbed Sarah’s arm, then looked at me helplessly, her eyes red. “Chloe, it’s all my fault. The company’s budget is tight lately, and the commission for the 150 million hasn’t come through yet. I don’t have much money on hand either. I went to several stores to buy this cushion. It’s my incompetence that made you feel wronged. Next time, when the commission comes in, I’ll definitely get you a better one, okay?” Watching her theatrical performance, I couldn’t help but sneer. The last time I secured a ten-million-dollar contract, the bonus was ten thousand dollars. She told me the exact same thing. I didn’t want to fight with her then, thinking it would be fine if it was distributed among the whole sales department. After all, I didn’t secure the contract entirely on my own. Jessica accompanied me to meet the client, and Michael ran around organizing the materials for me. But I later found out that the ten thousand dollars was never distributed to the sales department. She kept it, claiming it was used for the department’s “public relations expenses.” I didn’t expect her to become even more brazen, trying to pocket a bonus of over a hundred thousand dollars. I scoffed, my gaze piercing her. “Director Linda, you say the sales commission hasn’t come through. But what about the special individual bonus the company awarded? The boss personally promised it. How did it turn into one dollar when it reached you?” Linda’s eyes darted away, her face flushing red as she stammered, “The company has a lot of expenses. You don’t know the cost of running things until you’re the one in charge. As a director, I have to consider everything.” “As for the special bonus you mentioned, it’s still going through the approval process. Chloe, don’t be so impatient. Once it’s approved, I’ll give it to you immediately, okay?” Sarah immediately chimed in, “It’s just a bonus. What’s the big deal if it’s a few days late? Why have you become so mercenary, with only money in your eyes?” Other colleagues echoed her, accusing me of being too profit-driven and ungrateful. Linda wiped a tear and stopped the crowd. “Alright, everyone, stop talking. Chloe is still young. Maybe it’s just because the holidays are approaching, and she needs money. Don’t blame her. It’s all my fault for being an incompetent director. I always want everyone to share the benefits and bring more profit to the sales department. It’s all my fault.” Saying this, she pulled something out of her bag and shoved it at me, smiling. “I apologize, don’t be mad.” “You haven’t eaten anything yet, you must be hungry. I specially bought you these stomach-soothing soda crackers. Eat some to line your stomach, don’t let yourself starve. Whenever your stomach bothers you, don’t I always buy these for you?” Manager Davis and Sarah, hearing this, glared at me indignantly. “Look how good Linda is to you. Even after all this, she’s still thinking about your stomach.” I pinched the box of soda crackers. The box was crushed. I opened it to find the crackers were stale. I took a bite, and it crumbled into dry dust. The production date was from three months ago. I was so angry I laughed. I smashed the crackers hard onto the floor. “Who wants your cheap, fake kindness?! If you truly thought I worked hard, if you truly cared about my health, you would give me the bonus I earned! Stop trying to fool me with this garbage, and stop using your fake favoritism to play the good guy!” Manager Davis immediately lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. “You little brat, you have no manners whatsoever! I’ll teach you a lesson on behalf of your elders.” “A teacher for a day is a parent for a lifetime. Director Linda cares so much about you. How can you be so ungrateful? How can you break her heart like this?” “Maybe I don’t have good manners, but at least I don’t steal other people’s bonuses! I worked my tail off for three months, and she tries to dismiss me with a bowl of soggy noodles and a single dollar?! Is this the benevolence and loyalty you all talk about?!” Linda cried even harder, leaning into Sarah’s embrace, looking like the victim of a massive injustice. Sarah comforted her while looking at me with deep disappointment. “Chloe, you’re becoming more and more out of line. Linda trained you from scratch. She’s taken care of you in every way for a year. If it weren’t for Linda, could you have signed so many big contracts?” “The resources are Linda’s. The clients sign because they trust the company’s strength. You just ran a few errands, and now you’re making a scene trying to monopolize the bonus.” 3 Manager Davis stood up, his face dark. “There’s no reasoning with her. I think she’s just been spoiled. Today I have to teach her a lesson, show her what it means to respect her mentors and be grateful.” With that, he raised his hand, ready to slap me again. Linda immediately threw herself forward to stop him, crying, “No, no, no, Manager! Chloe made a huge contribution today. Even if she made a mistake, you can’t blame her. It’s all my fault. I didn’t coordinate the department’s relationships well. It has nothing to do with Chloe.” Davis’s hand was held tightly by Linda. He was both angry and exasperated. “Look at the situation, and you’re still protecting her! This ungrateful snake, does she appreciate anything you’ve done?” The colleagues all shook their heads and sighed, murmuring about how I didn’t know how good I had it and was totally ungrateful. “Look how good Linda is to you. If it were anyone else, the manager would have chewed them out and probably kicked them out the door. Would they still protect you?” Linda wiped her tears, smiled with feigned magnanimity, and bent down to pick up the thermos and the soda crackers. “Alright, alright, everyone, let’s stop criticizing Chloe.” “I’ll go make Chloe another bowl of noodles, and buy a nicer gift. Today is Chloe’s victory banquet, we can’t ruin everyone’s mood.” Watching her take the act all the way to the end, I couldn’t bear it anymore. I rushed forward and shoved her hard in the chest, screaming, “Who wants your fake kindness?!” The room fell dead silent. No one expected me to actually lay a hand on Linda. Manager Davis was stunned for three seconds. When he recovered, he grabbed a set of tableware and hurled it at my head. “You ungrateful wretch! I have to cure you of this today. I’m telling you right now, get out of this company immediately. You’re fired.” A sharp pain shot through my forehead, and warm liquid slowly trickled down my cheek. Everyone looked at me in shock, and then the accusations started pouring in again. “Serves her right. So unappreciative.” Linda immediately threw herself at Manager Davis, hugging him and crying, “Manager, let’s talk this out, don’t hit her, don’t hit her, it’s all my fault.” As she looked up, I caught a fleeting glimpse of smugness hidden in her eyes. Seeing that smug expression, I finally laughed. I pulled out my phone, opened a voice recording, and played it. The clear conversation between Linda and Manager Davis filled the room. “I kept Chloe’s 150,000-dollar commission and transferred it to my card. I’ll just give her a dollar and say the company budget is tight. She’s just a greenhorn, she can’t do anything about it.” “Baby, you’re so smart. Doting on her every day, cooking for her, acting so concerned about her bad stomach—making it look like you treat her so well. How could she possibly have the face to demand money from you?” “They’re just new employees. If they dare disobey, I have you, right? We’ll just fire them and tell them to get lost.” … The moment the recording played, the room plunged into a deathly silence. Linda’s face turned pale as paper. Her lips trembled, unable to maintain her aggrieved act any longer. Gripping my phone, I walked toward her step by step. “Linda, your fake favoritism and your scheming end today.” Everyone stared dumbfounded at Linda and Manager Davis. Sarah was frozen in place, her hand, halfway extended to help Linda, suspended in mid-air. Her face was full of disbelief. “Director Linda, did… did you really embezzle our bonuses and commissions?” The other colleagues erupted, the whispers impossible to suppress. The accusations previously aimed at me instantly turned into suspicion toward Linda. “No wonder! When I first arrived, Linda doted on me too, bought me coffee every day, told me to drink green tea. But my bonuses were always inexplicably cut in half.” “Damn it, this is textbook exploitation of newbies! The new hires work themselves to the bone getting orders, she takes all the benefits, and plays the saint so we can’t complain.” “We should suggest the company legal department investigate and see exactly how much of our commission she’s embezzled.”

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Becoming a concert pianist wasn’t just a career choice; it was the rhythm my heart beat to. But on the night of my most critical performance—the showcase that would have cemented my place in the professional world—chaos erupted. A gang of thugs burst into the concert hall, shattering the sanctity of the music. I was nearing the crescendo, my fingers flying across the ivory, when they stormed the stage. They slammed the heavy Steinway lid down. Then, to make sure the damage was permanent, one of them jumped on top of it, stomping with brutal force. My fingers. My life. Crushed into a pulp of bone and blood. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. I tried to pull my hands free, but the weight was immovable. Desperate, through a haze of agony, I locked eyes with my wife, Victoria. She was standing near the VIP exit. I expected her to scream, to run to me, to command the security team to open fire if necessary. Instead, I watched, my vision blurring, as she threw her arms out to block the security guards and my friends who were rushing the stage. I found out later that the thugs weren’t there for me. They were looking for Oliver. They had come to break Oliver’s hands to settle a gambling debt. But my wife, the woman I had vowed to love forever, pointed at me and said: “You can’t touch Oliver’s hands. Take the piano player instead. Do whatever you want with him.” In that moment, something vital inside me flatlined. I decided then and there to divorce her. But she would regret it. She would regret it when she eventually broke her childhood sweetheart’s hands herself, weeping and begging for a forgiveness I no longer had to give. … The piano lid came down like a guillotine. The sound wasn’t musical; it was a dull, sickening thud of wood against bone. I shrieked, a sound I didn’t recognize as my own, frantically trying to yank my hands back. But the thug in the heavy boots leaped onto the polished black surface, stomping rhythmically, driving the lid deeper into my flesh. The nerves in my fingertips screamed, sending shockwaves of nausea through my body. Cold sweat drenched my tuxedo. “Stop! Please, God, stop!” I begged. “I don’t even know who you are! Why are you doing this?” The thug looked down at me from his perch on the Steinway, a sneer twisting his face. “Don’t know us? Oliver sent my brother to prison. I came to return the favor, but your wife stopped me. She said you were the payment. Trading a pair of hands for a pair of hands seems fair, doesn’t it, Maestro?” “No… that’s impossible.” I turned my head, fighting the black spots dancing in my vision. There she was. Victoria. She was directing her personal security detail to form a human shield around Oliver, whispering soothing words to him, stroking his back. My mentor, Madame Laurent, tried to rush the stage with the venue security, but Victoria stepped into their path. “Stand down,” she commanded, her voice icy. “This is a family matter. Do not interfere.” I was shaking, and not just from the pain. This was a nightmare. It had to be. Crack. The sound of my knuckles shattering was louder than the screams of the audience. Blood began to drip from the keyboard, pooling on the stage floor. Panic, cold and absolute, washed over me. I will never play again. Stripped of all dignity, I sobbed, screaming out to the woman I had loved for seven years. “Victoria! For the love of God, we’ve been married for three years! Help me! Please!” She glanced at me. Her eyes were empty, devoid of even a flicker of empathy. “It is precisely because you are my husband that I need you to do this for me,” she called out, her voice carrying over the commotion. “You’re disappointing me, Cameron. It’s just a few broken bones. Oliver has done so much for us; consider this you paying back a debt of gratitude.” Her lips, painted a perfect crimson, looked like a wound. The words that fell from them cut deeper than the crushed bones. I couldn’t tell what hurt more—my hands or my heart. Four years of dating. Three years of marriage. Did she not know who I was? Did she not understand that my hands were my soul? Seven years of devotion disintegrated in seconds. The thug on the piano wasn’t done. He started kicking me in the face, grinding his heel into my scalp, trying to jam the toe of his boot into my mouth to silence my whimpering. My hands were pinned; I was defenseless. And my wife stood ten feet away, blind to my torture, her focus entirely on Oliver, who was clutching his chest, feigning a heart attack. Madame Laurent was screaming now, her face purple with rage. “Victoria West! You are his wife! If you won’t save him, how dare you stop us? Look at him! Look at what they’re doing to Cameron! Do you have no conscience?” Victoria shot a look of pure annoyance at my teacher. “Stop being dramatic. It’s a beatdown, not a murder. And Cameron,” she shouted at me, “stop embarrassing me! Can you stop pretending? I bet you’re enjoying seeing your teacher yell at me, aren’t you? I never should have married such a petty, small-minded man.” I was so weak I could barely whisper. My lips trembled as I tried to form words. “I’m not… pretending. My fingers… they’re crushed.” Victoria couldn’t hear me, or chose not to. She frowned, checking her watch. “Man up, Cameron. It’s a piano lid, not a tank. How could that break your hands? Stop playing the victim. It’s pathetic.” My ten fingers were destroyed. A chaotic mess of flesh and splintered bone. And she called it playing the victim. Madame Laurent looked like she might have a stroke. She pointed a shaking finger at Victoria. “Are you insane? That is a concert grand! It weighs nearly a thousand pounds! The lid alone is heavy enough to crush brick, and you have a two-hundred-pound man jumping on it! If we don’t get him to surgery now, he loses his hands forever!” “He is a prodigy! A once-in-a-generation talent! And you are letting them butcher him!” Victoria paused. For a second, doubt flickered in her eyes. Then Oliver let out a theatrical, hacking cough. “I really envy Cameron,” Oliver wheezed, clutching Victoria’s arm. “Having a teacher who cares so much… Victoria, don’t worry about me. Let them kill me. Cameron is a high-and-mighty artist. His hands are precious gold. We can’t let him suffer for a nobody like me.” The hesitation vanished from Victoria’s face. She rubbed Oliver’s back soothingly, then glared at me and Madame Laurent with renewed disgust. “Get the hell out of here,” she hissed at my teacher. “My husband and I don’t need outsiders meddling.” She turned her cold gaze on me. “What ‘high-and-mighty artist’? He’s a trophy husband I keep around. Helping Oliver is the most useful thing he’s ever done. If his fingers are broken, fine. He can stay home and stop flirting with other women at these recitals.” Every word was a serrated blade, sawing through what was left of my heart. I had spent years deluding myself. I told myself her lingering attachment to Oliver was just nostalgia for their youth. I told myself that I was the one she came home to. I was the one she loved. I realized then, with a clarity that was more painful than the physical trauma, that she had never loved me. Her heart was a shrine to Oliver. I wasn’t her husband. I was a placeholder. A dog she fed and expected to heel. The grief hit me so hard I gagged, coughing up a spray of blood. The thug on the piano laughed, clearly entertained by the domestic drama. He gave one final, jubilant jump. Snap. That was the sound of the tendons finally severing. Something inside me went dark. As consciousness slipped away, the last thing I saw was Oliver whispering something into Victoria’s ear. She threw her head back and laughed—a bright, tinkling sound that belonged at a cocktail party, not a torture scene. I closed my eyes. A single tear tracked through the blood on my face. Victoria West. I wasted my life on you. If I could go back, I would pray I never met you. The darkness swirled into a dream. A long, vivid memory from seven years ago. I was at a university recital. I wasn’t as polished back then; I missed a note in the second movement. But when I stood to bow, shaking with adrenaline, I saw a girl in the front row, covering her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Victoria. I thought she understood the music. I thought she heard the soul I was pouring into the keys. She approached me afterward. We exchanged numbers. We fell into a rhythm. I learned she was trying to launch a tech startup, V&O Dynamics, but was hitting wall after wall. Silicon Valley was a boys’ club, and no one wanted to fund her. So, I called my father. We hadn’t spoken since the day my mother died in a car crash—a day he missed because of a board meeting. I had moved out, cut him off, and changed my name to pursue music without his shadow. Victoria didn’t know my father was Arthur St. James, the CEO of Horizon Capital. She was proud, almost brittle in her independence, so I never told her. I just asked my dad for a favor. He wired twenty million dollars to her company the next day, no questions asked, trying to buy back my affection. Victoria’s company skyrocketed. And in the glow of her success, she proposed to me. I remember standing by the piano in her loft. She held out a ring, her eyes shining. “Cameron, will you play Für Elise for me for the rest of our lives?” I was ecstatic. “Yes. A thousand times yes.” We married. I wanted to help with the business, to be a partner in every sense. But she shut me down. She told me my job was to play. To keep the music alive for her. I loved her even more for that. A wife who protected my dream? It felt like a miracle. Even when she worked eighty-hour weeks, she would make me play Für Elise once a week. She would lie with her head in my lap and weep silently. I thought it was release. I thought it was intimacy. Then Oliver Tate came back. He joined her company as General Counsel. Suddenly, everything shifted. She stopped asking for the piano. She stopped coming home. She took Oliver to galas, introducing him as the brilliant legal mind behind her success, the “co-founder in spirit.” My father sent me videos of them at these parties—whispering in corners, touching arms. He asked me what the hell was going on. I looked at the screen, at the soft, vulnerable expression on her face—a look she never gave me—and I made excuses. She’s just grateful, I told myself. He’s helping the company. So I practiced. I poured my loneliness into the keys. I thought if I reached the pinnacle, if I stood on the biggest stage, she would finally see me again. And she did come. She was there in the audience on the most important night of my life. But she didn’t come to watch me fly. She came to clip my wings. I woke up screaming. The silence of the hospital room swallowed the sound. I was alone. Pathetically, a small part of me had hoped to see Victoria in the chair beside the bed. Right, I thought, a bitter laugh bubbling up. I’m just the dog. I looked down. My arms were encased in heavy plaster casts from fingertips to elbows. They felt foreign. Dead. I buzzed for the nurse and demanded a forensic injury assessment. Then I asked her to call my father. He was in London closing a deal, but he sent his personal assistant and the sharkiest lawyer in the city, Harrison Ford (no relation, though just as dramatic). He promised to fly back immediately. I told him not to come yet. Just the lawyer. Harrison moved fast. Within hours, the police report was filed. He told me, his voice grim but confident, “We’ll bury the thug. Assault with intent to maim. And Oliver Tate? He solicited the violence. His law license is toast. And your wife… obstructing emergency services? She’s an accessory.” “Don’t touch my wife…” I started, out of habit. The door banged open. Victoria stormed in, Oliver trailing behind her like a lost puppy. “Cameron! Are you out of your mind?” She threw her purse onto the chair. “The police just called. You filed charges? Do you have any idea what kind of PR nightmare this is for the company? For Oliver?” She didn’t even look at my casts. Not a glance. I sighed, lifting my heavy, useless arms. I wanted to test her one last time. “Victoria,” I said, my voice cracking. “The doctors say I’ll never play again. I can’t play Für Elise for you anymore.” I admit it. I was weak. I wanted to see if there was a human being left inside the CEO. If she showed one ounce of regret, one spark of horror at what she had cost me… maybe I could forgive. I would give up the piano. I would be the husband she wanted. She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a pair of hands, Cameron. It’s not like you’re dying.” She crossed her arms. “Grow up. You’re a grown man, still obsessed with plinking away on a toy. And because of that stupid piano, you’re going to ruin Oliver’s career? You are vicious.” Oliver stepped forward, gazing at Victoria with wet, adoring eyes. “You remembered,” he whispered. “Our song. You remembered.” “Of course I remember,” Victoria said softy. ” I could never forget.” I froze. Our song. The pieces slammed together in my mind. The weekly requests. The tears in her lap. Für Elise wasn’t about me. It wasn’t our song. I was just the jukebox playing the soundtrack to her memories of him. I was a proxy. A ghost. “Liar,” I whispered. Then louder. “Liars.” Victoria looked annoyed. She smoothed her blazer, trying to cover her guilt with aggression. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t owe you anything. Look, just because I don’t need you to play anymore doesn’t mean I’m kicking you out. I’ve supported you for years; I don’t mind keeping you on the payroll as a house husband.” “Drop the charges. Right now. And I’ll pretend this tantrum never happened.” I actually laughed. It hurt my ribs. “So I should thank you? Should I get on my knees and praise your generosity after you let them cripple me?” She missed the sarcasm entirely. “You don’t need to thank me. Thank Oliver. He’s the reason the company exists.” “Drop the lawsuit. Then apologize to Oliver for the stress you’ve caused him. Do that, and you can come home.” “Heh.” I gave her a smile that felt like a skull grinning. “I understand. You can go.” “You understand, but you’re not kneeling?” I stared at her, my eyes cold and dead. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Oliver stepped in, putting on his ‘nice guy’ mask. He tugged at Victoria’s sleeve. “Let it go, Victoria. Cameron is a big star. He has too much pride to apologize to someone like me.” He was pouring salt in the wound, and he knew it. “Pride?” Victoria scoffed. “What does he have to be proud of? He’s a parasite. A tick I let live on my back.” She turned on me. “Cameron St. James. Kneel. Apologize to Oliver. Or I divorce you. I will strip you of every asset. You will walk out of this marriage with nothing but the clothes on your back.” She looked triumphant. She was sure I would fold. I remembered the last time. She had brought Oliver over for dinner. I spent all day cooking. Oliver took one bite of the asparagus and feigned an allergic reaction—choking, gasping. Victoria destroyed the dining room. She smashed every plate. Then she dragged me to the ER and made me kneel by Oliver’s bed to beg for forgiveness. I saw Oliver smirk that day. A little wink that said, I win. I knelt that day because I loved her. Because I was desperate. But the man who knelt was gone. He died on the piano bench. I met her gaze. “Fine. Divorce. Tomorrow? No. Let’s do it right now.”

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Because I made his “golden girl” take a cold shower, Gary locked me in a industrial deep freezer and turned the bolt. “Sasha caught a cold because of you. It’s only fair you feel a bit of her chills,” he said, his voice as cold as the frost already forming on the stainless steel. I clawed at the heavy lid, screaming until my throat was raw, but all I could see through the gap was Sasha’s face. She wasn’t shivering. She was smiling. Her lips moved, though I could barely hear her over the hum of the compressor. “Gary worries about me so much, Elena. I’d love to help you, but I just can’t go against his wishes. You’ll just have to tough this one out.” She reached down and dialed the temperature to its lowest setting. Then, she draped a heavy industrial dust cover over the unit, snuffing out the last sliver of light. When Gary finally returned from their “honeymoon,” he decided to be merciful. He came to the basement to let me out. “I’ll let you go this once,” he called out, his tone bored, as if he were scolding a pet. “Let’s see if you’ve learned your lesson about targeting Sasha.” I hadn’t learned a thing. I couldn’t. I was a solid block of ice, and the moment the air hit me, I didn’t breathe—I just shattered. … Twelve days after my heart stopped, Gary finally brought Sasha home. They had gone to Antarctica on a whim to see the Aurora Australis. He called it the ultimate romantic gesture. Sasha was wrapped in layers of cashmere, still shivering as if the polar wind had settled in her bones. Gary hovered over her, his face a mask of devotion. “You’ve always been fragile, Sasha. You shouldn’t have pushed yourself to go to the South Pole. It kills me to see you like this.” “Achoo!” Sasha let out a dainty, rehearsed sneeze and burrowed into his chest. “I’m fine, Gary. Really. I’m stronger than I look.” Gary pinched her nose playfully. “Stop lying. Have you forgotten the last time you took a cold shower? You ran a fever for days.” Half a month ago, I supposedly turned off the water heater while Sasha was bathing. She claimed she was forced to finish in ice-cold water, resulting in a 104-degree fever that nearly “killed” her. At the memory, Gary’s eyes darkened. The tenderness he held for Sasha curdled into a sharp, jagged annoyance for me. He turned to his assistant, who was busy hauling their designer luggage into the foyer. “Sasha is staying here tonight. Go find that woman and tell her to keep her mouth shut. I don’t want any of her pathetic drama tonight.” The assistant, who had been dragged along on the trip, paused. He looked confused, then pale. “Mr. Sterling… I mean, sir… the mistress… I think she’s still in the freezer where you left her.” Sasha jumped off the sofa, her hand flying to her mouth in a gasp that was far too theatrical. “It’s been that many days? Oh my god, Gary, she’s not… dead, is she?” For a fleeting second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Gary’s face. But then he saw Sasha’s “worried” expression and he let out a harsh, dry laugh. “Elena? Dead? Please. She’s too manipulative for that. She probably picked the lock and went to a hotel the second we left, just so she could play the victim when I got back.” Is that right, Gary? I looked down at my translucent self, floating aimlessly in the foyer. I wanted to laugh, but ghosts don’t have breath. If he hadn’t used heavy-duty chains to seal that freezer, maybe I would have found a way. I wanted to live. I really did. But Gary had wanted to humiliate me. He had taken the entire household staff on the trip, leaving the mansion a silent tomb. “Elena,” he had whispered through the steel that night, “I want you to understand exactly where you rank. You are lower than the help. Stay in there and think about why you’ll never be Sasha.” It’s funny, really. Without a soul in the house to hear me, how was I supposed to get out? They forgot about the “incident” almost immediately, melting into each other on the velvet sofa. It wasn’t until the assistant ran back upstairs, his face ghost-white, that my name was mentioned again. “Sir… Elena… she’s gone. She’s not in her room. All her things are still here, but she’s nowhere to be found.” Gary waved a hand dismissively. “She’s waiting for me to go looking for her like a fool. Well, let her wait. If she doesn’t want to come home, she can stay on the streets. Give her room to Sasha. Throw Elena’s junk away.” Sasha pouted, tracing a circle on Gary’s chest. “I don’t want her old things, Gary. I want everything new.” Gary kissed her forehead. “Anything for you, baby. You’re the only thing that matters.” Sasha didn’t waste a beat. She sprinted into my bedroom and began smashing my perfume bottles against the wall. “I’ve hated this room for years! Trash it all! I want it stripped to the floorboards!” I followed them, though it was a struggle. My “body” felt heavy, as if the cold had seeped into my very essence. Every step felt like my joints were grinding into dust. At first, I panicked, trying to “pick up” the metaphorical pieces of myself I felt I was leaving behind. But then it hit me: I was already dead. I was just a lingering thought. What use did a ghost have for bones? “Gary,” Sasha called out from my bed, “if I ever ran away, would you come find me?” “In a heartbeat. But you aren’t Elena. She’s a liar, Sasha. You don’t have a deceptive bone in your body.” I leaned against the doorframe, watching them. Sasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic stick with a triumphant flourish. “Since you love me so much… I have a surprise. I’m pregnant.” I straightened up, drifting closer. That pregnancy test looked hauntingly familiar. It was mine. The one I had taken the morning Gary locked me away. There was even a tiny, dried speck of blood on the edge of the plastic where I’d snagged my finger on the packaging. Sasha hadn’t even bothered to wipe it off. But Gary didn’t see the blood. He only saw a miracle. He let out a primal shout of joy and swept her into his arms. “A baby? You’re carrying my child? Sasha, you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me!” He laid her down on my bed as if she were made of fine porcelain. He tucked the duvet around her, his voice thick with emotion. “I shouldn’t have taken you to Antarctica. I could have hurt the baby. I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay, Gary. This baby is a fighter. Just like his father.” I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned away, drifting back toward the basement. I was just a pawn in a corporate marriage. He never loved me. I knew that. I had loved him for a decade, but his eyes were always wandering—from a revolving door of secretaries to his high school sweetheart, Sasha, who had finally come back to claim her throne. I was used to being invisible. But I had stayed. My grandmother was in the hospital, and Gary’s money was the only thing keeping her alive. At the thought of her, my non-existent heart ached. Does she know I’m gone? She’s so sick now; she forgets my name sometimes. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t realize I’m never coming back. I drifted down into the darkness of the cellar. To the place where I had spent my final hours. The freezer was still there. The industrial plastic cover was stuck to the floor, fused by a dark, frozen liquid that had leaked out of the drainage valve. Gary had called in eight security guards to lift me like a piece of livestock and dump me into that box. He had shut the lid himself. My hands and feet had been zip-tied, a rag stuffed in my mouth. “Elena, you targeted Sasha out of pure spite. Are you ready to admit you were wrong?” I had shaken my head violently, my eyes red and pleading, slamming my elbows against the sides. Gary’s face had twisted in disgust. “Then stay here. Call me when you’re ready to apologize.” Sasha had stood behind him, her voice trembling with fake fear. “Gary, I’m scared she’ll try to hurt me again tonight. I don’t think I can sleep here.” Gary had looked at her with such tenderness it made me want to retch. He ordered the guards to bring in heavy chains. They wrapped them around the freezer four times, padlocking it as if they were containing a monster. “She won’t get out of there if she tries for a hundred years. You’re safe now, Sasha. I’ll let her out tomorrow after you leave for the airport.” That night, they threw a party upstairs. A “bon voyage” celebration. I could hear the muffled thumping of the bass, the laughter of people who didn’t know a woman was suffocating and freezing ten feet beneath their floor. In a final, desperate burst of adrenaline, I managed to throw my weight against the side, tipping the freezer over. It hit the concrete floor with a deafening thud. The music stopped. A minute later, Gary’s voice boomed over the basement intercom. “Elena, enough! You’re pathetic. Do you really think throwing a tantrum is going to make me pity you?” “You knew Sasha couldn’t handle the cold. Did you think of her when you shut off that heater?” “She has a fever of 104! Do you even have a soul? If anything happens to her, you’re a murderer!” “Reflect on that. You stay in there until her fever breaks.” He never came down. He never saw that the freezer had been accidentally (or intentionally) set to “Flash Freeze.” He didn’t see the scratches on the inside of the lid where my fingernails had snapped off. My hands and feet had gone numb hours ago. The blood from my torn nails had frozen instantly. I tried to make a sound, any sound. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. Please. I don’t want to die. But Gary wasn’t listening. He had turned off the intercom and gone to bed to cuddle his “golden girl.” The next morning, Sasha’s fever “miraculously” broke. She insisted they leave for their trip early to celebrate. By then, I couldn’t move. I spent my last moments thinking of my grandmother, forcing my eyelids to stay open just one more second, one more second… No one noticed I was gone. They packed their bags and flew to the edge of the world. Before he left, Gary’s voice came over the intercom one last time. “We’re leaving for Antarctica. Enjoy the silence, Elena. You’ve earned it.” “Do you see now? You’re nothing to me. Don’t ever try to compete with Sasha again.” I don’t remember the exact moment I died. I just know I held on for a very, very long time. The blood on the plastic cover had attracted flies. The sound of their wings was the only thing I could hear. When the cleaning crew finally returned today, the smell in the basement made them gag. It wasn’t that bad, really. I was frozen solid. Only the blood had a scent. One of the cleaners tried to lift the plastic cover, but it was glued down by the dark sludge at the base. “This unit is definitely shot. Whatever meat was in here has gone rancid.” “Don’t bother with it. Mr. Sterling said he was replacing the whole basement setup anyway. Just haul the whole thing to the junkyard.” The cleaner called Gary to confirm. The intercom crackled to life again. “If it’s broken, trash it! Why are you calling me about a freezer? If the meat spoiled, it’s because you people are incompetent. You’re all fired. Don’t show up tomorrow.” Gary’s voice was jagged with irritation, followed by Sasha’s soft, cooing voice in the background. Gary… do you really not remember? Are you that far gone? As if answering me, Gary spoke again. “It was probably just Elena being spiteful again, leaving a mess for me to find. Just get it out of the house. Then make some bone broth for Sasha. She needs to keep her strength up for the baby.” He paused. “And tell the security team to look for Elena. She’s probably hiding out somewhere, waiting to cause more trouble. I’m sick of her games.” I stared at the intercom. For a second, I wanted to shatter it. Gary, if you’re not going to use your brain, you should donate it to science. How could you think I escaped? Or is it just that in your heart, my life—and my death—don’t even warrant a second thought? I continued to drift through the house, waiting for the moment they realized. Gary said I had to suffer like Sasha. Well, I’m dead, and she’s being treated like a queen. That doesn’t seem fair, does it? I’ll wait. I’ll wait until Sasha joins me. Poor, stupid Gary. He really thinks that child is his. He’s playing nursemaid, doting on a ghost of a pregnancy. Go ahead, Gary. Love her. The more it hurts now, the deeper the hole will be when you fall. I wonder… when you find out that pregnancy test was mine… will you still be this happy? Or will you just be relieved that I’m gone? A few hours later, I was sitting on the edge of their bed, watching them. Gary’s phone buzzed. It was my grandmother. She didn’t quite understand how to use the phone anymore. “Hello? Hello?” she chirped into the line. Gary groaned. “You old bat. If you’re looking for your granddaughter, find her yourself. Stop calling me.” Luckily, she didn’t seem to hear him. “Gary? Is that you? Where’s my Elena? She hasn’t visited in so long. Is she working?” My chest tightened. Nana… why do you have to remember me now? When I was alive, you barely knew who I was. Gary’s voice was like a whip. “Listen to me. Tell Elena that if she wants to be part of this family, she needs to come home and apologize to Sasha. Tell her to stop using you to play these pathetic games. I’m not a fool.” Nana’s voice sharpened with sudden, lucid panic. “Give her back! Give me my Elena! What have you done to her?!” Gary hung up and immediately blocked her number. I screamed, though no sound came out. How could he block her? Since the fire that destroyed our family, Nana had been lost in the fog of dementia. Gary and I were the only two numbers she knew by heart. Now, she couldn’t reach me, and she was blocked by him. She was all alone. And to think, when we were kids, Nana treated Gary like her own grandson. The phone rang again. A different number. Gary picked up, ready to scream. “I told you to stop—” “Is this Mr. Gary Sterling?” a man’s voice interrupted. He sounded official. Deep. “We’re calling regarding an industrial freezer unit disposed of earlier today. We found human remains inside. We need you to come down for questioning immediately.” Gary froze. “What?” “There is a body, sir. A female. It’s… it’s a horrific scene. Do you have any knowledge of this?” “The victim has been identified as Elena Sterling. Your wife.” Is it finally happening, Gary? I felt a surge of cold anticipation. Gary let out a sharp, jagged laugh. His eyes flashed with a familiar rage. “Elena, you’re really going all out, aren’t you? Faking a police call? This is a new low, even for a bankrupt socialite. This is your last warning—get home and apologize to Sasha, or I’m filing for divorce tomorrow!” He slammed the phone onto the floor and ground his heel into the screen until it was a web of shattered glass. Sasha let out a whimper. “Gary… oh, Gary… my stomach… it hurts…” I crossed my arms and sneered. She was using my test. I was the one who was pregnant. She’s just a liar with a good script. She knows I’m dead, and she’s just buying time to keep him from the truth. “Call Dr. Miller,” she gasped. “The baby… save the baby…” Dr. Miller? Oh, right. Sasha’s “old friend” she’d been seeing since she got back to town.

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Liam Sterling had double standards. A hot, sexy beauty twisted her waist to hit on him. He didn’t even look up. “If you have an itch, go take a shower.” Three days without washing my hair, I ran into him downstairs. Before I could even open my mouth, Liam swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Seducing me again?” “I’m free tonight. Your place or mine?” 1 My best friend and college roommate, Mark Davis, invited me out for his birthday. I thought it was just going to be the two of us, but he took a call halfway through. “Oh, man, my childhood friends are throwing me a birthday party tonight too.” Mark came from a good background; he was a trust fund kid. His childhood friends were naturally all rich kids and socialites. They were from a different world than me. I felt a bit awkward. “I’ll just head out, then.” “Don’t be like that. We’re all bros, let’s hang out together. They’re good guys.” “And they’re not homophobic, don’t worry.” “Wait here for a sec, I’ll go meet them at the door. My buddy Liam Sterling is coming too.” “Alright.” I had to sit back down. Mark got up, in high spirits, but as he was walking out the door of the private room, he suddenly turned around with a teasing look on his face. “Oh right, I ordered a premium male model for you, my little gay friend, to feed you fruit. He’s got that aloof, god-tier vibe. Costs a thousand bucks a night.” “He’ll be here soon. You can enjoy yourself for a bit, hehe. Be bold.” “…” I’m a gay guy who just coasts through life. Mark was afraid I’d end up alone forever, so he’s actually introduced me to quite a few handsome guys. Unfortunately, none of them were a good fit. So I didn’t refuse his good intentions. A few minutes after Mark left, the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open. I looked up and froze. The guy who walked in was top-tier. Relaxed brows, broad shoulders, a strong back, tall with long legs. Paired with the mandatory black shirt for male models and a diamond-studded silver chain, he was devastatingly handsome. I sighed inwardly. A thousand bucks a night for a premium male model really is a feast for the eyes. 2 The male model looked down at me, casually asking in a flat voice: “Mark Davis’s room?” Mark Davis was the name of my college roommate. I nodded, “Yes.” “Hmm.” He gave a slight nod and headed to sit at the other end of the sofa. “Wait a minute.” I called out to the handsome male model. He lifted his eyelids. “What’s wrong?” I awkwardly patted the seat next to me. “You should sit next to me.” “?” The male model looked at me, seemingly puzzled. I explained gently: “There’s going to be a lot of people later. You’ll feel uncomfortable sitting over there.” Even though Mark said his childhood friends weren’t homophobic, it was probably just a polite pleasantry. Maybe they’d feel uncomfortable sitting next to a gay guy. It would be a sin if the handsome male model who worked so hard got complaints. “…” At this, the male model’s expression became unreadable. He looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Alright.” After the guy sat down next to me, he didn’t initiate conversation. He just sat there, eating from the fruit platter and looking down at his phone. His profile was sharp, exuding a natural sense of detachment. I got it. This was the aloof, god-tier vibe. But Mark had already paid for it; he had to do his job. For example, instead of just eating by himself, he should feed me a few bites of fruit first. I carefully poked his arm. “Um, I want to eat some too.” The male model paused and pushed the fruit platter towards me. “Sorry.” “…” I didn’t move; I just stared at his hand. He narrowed his eyes: “What, you expect me to feed you?” I nodded sheepishly, “Yeah… can you?” At least let me experience this luxurious service while there weren’t many people around. I wouldn’t have the guts to ask once the room filled up. The male model’s look instantly became meaningful, as if looking at some clumsy pick-up tactic. Then, he let out a short breath that sounded like a laugh. “You’re definitely different from the other proactive ones. You’re Mark Davis’s friend?” “Yeah, his college roommate.” “What’s your name?” “Julian.” I was a bit confused. Do male models nowadays check their clients’ IDs? “Did he tell you who I am?” “He did.” “What did he say?” I answered seriously: “He said you’re—” Before I could say the four words “premium male model,” the door to the private room was noisily pushed open. Mark walked in with a group of people. Suddenly, Mark stared in my direction and said in surprise: “Liam, I was waiting for you outside! Why did you come into the room early?!” Then I heard the male model next to me say lazily: “It was noisy outside, so I came in first to have some fruit.” “Getting to know your friend early.” “He’s pretty interesting.” … I looked at Mark, then at the man, feeling like a total idiot. My brain felt like it had been kicked by a donkey. 3 The birthday party afterward was loud as hell. Only two people weren’t active. One was Liam Sterling. He didn’t seem interested in the drinking games, lazily leaning back on the sofa the whole time. And those rich kids seemed to implicitly defer to him. Even when joking around, they used a respectful tone. The second was me. I kept my head down the whole time, not saying a word. If there was a crack in the floor, I probably would have crawled into it. I completely didn’t dare to look to my left. Mark was even curious why I was acting so autistic, not even eating the fruit the premium male model fed me. He whispered to me: “What’s up, man? Intimidated by my buddy Liam’s aura? Or did he give you a hard time when he came in?” I shook my head, “No.” “Then what exactly happened?” “Sigh, it went like this…” I leaned into Mark’s ear and whispered the misunderstanding about confusing him for a male model. After hearing it, Mark wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Holding it in was very difficult. I gritted my teeth and said: “Stop laughing. Should I apologize right now?” “I don’t think you need to.” “Why?” “If you apologize, Liam will immediately know that you mistook him for a premium male model. He’s a straight guy; it might actually upset him.” “But if you don’t apologize and just gloss over it, he’ll just think you were trying to suck up to him.” “The first option will get you remembered, and he could easily take revenge and make your life miserable with the snap of his fingers. The second option just costs you a little face. Which do you choose?” I’m not stupid. I chose the second option without hesitation. Besides, as a gay guy, I shouldn’t provoke straight guys’ disgust. Mark patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’s got a lot on his plate every day; he won’t remember small stuff like this.” “That’s good.” Mark’s words made me sigh in relief. I also felt in the mood to join the games, trying hard to ignore the man named Liam Sterling and lower my presence in front of him. But what you fear most is what happens. 4 After a few rounds of drinks, Mark proposed a new game for today’s birthday boy. Hidden tasks. Except for Liam, who wasn’t participating, everyone drew a hidden task. It had to be completed before the birthday party ended. Whoever failed had to foot the bill for the entire night. I glanced at the table full of expensive imported liquor that could probably equal my salary for years, then looked down at the hidden task card in my hand. A faint feeling of impending doom washed over me. Sigh. I’ve stumbled into the wrong crowd. [Get the WeChat of the person to your left.] My left. Was exactly Liam Sterling. Clutching my phone, I cautiously stole a glance to my left. Liam, who had been looking down at his phone, suddenly looked up, “What?” “N-nothing.” I guilty turned my head back. A seemingly peaceful coexistence. After a while, I stole another glance at Liam, hesitating to speak. He asked again: “Something on your mind?” “No.” I denied it again. Another peaceful coexistence. But Liam seemed to let out a scoff. My spine instantly stiffened like a bowstring. How could I ask for his WeChat in a way that seemed normal and wouldn’t draw too much attention? During the third stealthy glance, my face flushed due to nervousness and anxiety. Red and flushed. Unexpectedly, this stealthy glance met Liam’s gaze head-on. I don’t know when he started observing me. He glanced at my flickering eyes and flushed face, raising an eyebrow: “If you want to add me on WeChat, just say so.” ! Wow. He actually figured out my task. I quickly brought up my QR code, saying softly: “Um… is it okay?” “Sure, but next time you hit on me, you can be more direct.” ? I was a bit confused. Who was hitting on him? However, my hidden task was successfully completed, so I didn’t have to pay for the drinks. 5 After adding Liam on WeChat, I didn’t dare bother the rich kid, much less delete him. I let him lie dormant in my contacts list. The day after Mark’s birthday, I happened to have a day off from work. My niece, who was in elementary school, came over to play. As soon as the kid arrived, she wanted to play with my phone. After handing it to her, I went to the kitchen to cook. “Uncle Julian, I want to play Candy Crush.” “Okay, I have it on my phone. You can play it.” “Uncle Julian, why doesn’t your WeChat have auto-like? It’s not cool at all.” Thinking “auto-like” was some new game, I didn’t even look up, smiling as I said: “If you want it, just download it yourself.” “Okay~” My little niece happily went back to playing with the phone. After she left, I didn’t touch the mess of games she downloaded, so she could continue playing next time she came. A week passed, two weeks passed… One day, when Mark asked me out for dinner, he suddenly expressed concern: “Julian, do you have a lot of free time lately?” “No, I’m pretty busy.” “Then how come every time I post a Moment, you’re the first to like it? Even when I post in the middle of the night, you’re the first to like it. And you like it the second I post it, like you’re specifically staking out my Moments. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you had a crush on me.” “Huh?” I was confused. “No way. I’ve been so busy lately my feet haven’t touched the ground; I don’t even have time to look at Moments. Why would I like something in the middle of the night?” “That’s weird. Did you install one of those ‘auto-like’ plug-ins?” Auto-like? I remembered the thing my little niece mentioned a while ago. Oh. So it wasn’t a game. “Yeah, my niece was playing with my phone and accidentally turned it on. I’ll turn it off right now.” I quickly went into WeChat and turned off the auto-like mini-program. Now, it finally wouldn’t auto-like everyone’s Moments. But two days later, Liam, who had been quietly lying in my contacts list, suddenly sent me four very abstract words. [Playing hard to get?] ? I stared at my phone. Completely bewildered. 6 I didn’t reply. I purely thought the rich kid had messaged the wrong person. But when I met Mark for dinner after work that day, there was an unexpected guest at the table. Liam Sterling. He was dressed casually today. A black short-sleeve shirt and cargo pants, his bone structure sharp, handsome and flamboyant. Like a model stepping out of a poster. Except his face was a bit sour, as if someone had offended him. Even when I greeted him politely, he only responded with a very cold grunt. Mark whispered to me: “He called me and insisted on having dinner with me. You don’t know, even my dad has to sit below him, so I couldn’t refuse. Bro, just bear with it, I’ll treat you to a big meal tomorrow.” “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Mark was relieved and invited me and Liam to eat. I glanced at the dishes on the table; they were all very expensive, but I was used to being poor and didn’t really like any of them. The only dish I liked, a flaky meat pie, was right in front of Liam. I was a bit hesitant to reach out and grab food right in front of his cold face. At that moment, a flash of inspiration hit me. While Liam was talking to Mark, I quietly stood up a bit and swapped the positions of two dishes. I put the meat pie in front of me and placed the pan-seared sole that was originally in front of me in front of Liam. Liam, who was talking to Mark, paused and glanced at me. His dark eyes were deep, and his straight mouth curved into a smile. Inexplicably, I felt that his long-gloomy expression finally cleared up. That handsome face faintly displayed a few words: [I knew it.] As he picked up a piece of sole, Mark suspiciously whispered in my ear: “Julian, how did you know Liam loves fish?” “I didn’t know. I just wanted to eat that meat pie.” Mark didn’t press further, and I didn’t think much of it either. But overall, Liam’s mood visibly improved. He ate well and even had a few drinks with Mark. I was also satisfied. Yep. We all had a wonderful evening. 7 After dinner, we prepared to go our separate ways. Except we encountered a tricky situation. Both Liam and Mark had been drinking, so naturally they couldn’t drive. Mark was picked up by his family’s driver, while Liam planted himself in the driver’s seat of his luxury car. I was shocked. Recently, there had been no shortage of social news about drunk drivers getting into accidents, and the friends who dined with them having to pay compensation. That wouldn’t do. My current financial situation absolutely couldn’t handle any compensation! Ignoring the difference between straight and gay, I hurriedly rushed over and grabbed his car door. “L-Liam, are you heading home?” “What is it?” “Let me drive you. I have a license and I can drive. It’s not safe for you to drive alone after drinking.” “…” Liam, who originally just wanted to sit and rest while waiting for his driver, stared at me. His eyes were full of emotions I couldn’t read, like teasing, and a bit of helpless indulgence. “Then I’ll give you a chance.” “?” Why did it sound like he was doing me a favor? I was clearly trying to save his life. I couldn’t understand the thought process of these rich kids. After helping him out of the driver’s seat, placing him in the back, and buckling his seatbelt, I returned to the driver’s seat. Liam was driving a G-Wagon today. It was my first time getting my hands on a seven-figure luxury car. Even with my usually mild personality, my inner poor kid couldn’t help but get a little excited. Ah! What man alive doesn’t want a G-Wagon! I tried to take deep breaths and stay calm. In the back seat, Liam, with his eyes half-closed, suddenly let out a very light chuckle, his voice a bit raspy. “Julian, you seem very excited.” “N-no.” “Really?” “Yeah. Um… Liam, what’s your home address?” “You don’t know?” I was bewildered. Was I supposed to know? “I don’t know.” Liam let out another inexplicable chuckle. “Forest View Mansion. I posted the location on my Moments.” I, a bumpkin, scratched my face in embarrassment. I see. The top-tier wealthy neighborhood in the city. He flexed it on his Moments. But unfortunately, I was too busy to look at Moments, so I didn’t get to experience his pride. My bad.

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After I confessed my secret of being intersex to my online boyfriend, he got even more excited: “Baby, when we meet, can I kiss you?” My face flushed hot, and I gave him permission. But right before our meetup, he complained about how hard it was to get along with his new roommate. At that exact moment, my new roommate’s phone buzzed. 1 “Baby, your voice sounds so good.” “Why would I be disgusted by you? Knowing that makes me even more excited.” “Baby, I want to see you so badly. I want to hold you, kiss you.” “……” At night, I was re-listening to the voice messages Z had sent me. His deep, husky voice slid through my earbuds like a lover’s whisper, making my whole body run hot. Having this kind of body is really too much trouble. When I carefully confessed my intersex secret to my online boyfriend, Z, I was terrified he would find me disgusting. But Z seemed to sense my anxiety, coaxing me gently: “How could I? Baby, I like you even more now.” After that, he’d randomly send me sweet talk. Making me restless and terribly thirsty. Unfortunately, Z went off to college, and reportedly his new roommate was a real piece of work, so it wasn’t convenient for him to send voice memos lately. I could only listen to the stash I had saved up. Fighting the restless urges, I tossed and turned again. Suddenly, someone knocked on the edge of my bed frame, scaring me half to death. Lifting the bed curtain, a tall silhouette stood below, his tone dripping with annoyed impatience: “Liam, are you done tossing and turning? Do you have any idea how loud you are?” It was Julian again. Julian was a neat freak, a light sleeper, and had a venomous tongue. Just hearing his voice annoyed me, so I instinctively snapped back. “Mind your own business. If it’s too loud, wear earplugs.” “Our beds are connected. Are you stupid?” Meaning, earplugs wouldn’t block out the vibrations of my tossing. Fair point. But I was still annoyed and was just about to keep arguing with him. I didn’t expect Julian to literally climb up. With his knees separated by the blanket, he half-knelt between my legs. His tall frame pressed down, caging me in on both sides with an intense, oppressive presence. I instinctively shrank back: “What are you doing?” 2 He didn’t speak. Suddenly, he grabbed my wrists with a firm, strong grip. My heart skipped a beat. No way. I just tossed and turned a bit. Is he really going to climb into my bed and beat me up? I was just about to struggle when he yanked my earbuds out and tossed them to the head of the bed. My phone received the exact same treatment. He bundled me up tightly in the blanket, his large frame still pressing down on top of me. “Liam, I’m watching you. Go to sleep right now.” I tried to move but found I was completely immobilized. Psycho. I was absolutely furious: “I’ll sleep, okay?! You’re so annoying! Go back to your own bed!” But in the dark, he didn’t reply. He just kept staring at me. I had no options left. He didn’t go back until I finally closed my eyes. My heated mood felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on it. Julian completely ruined my good mood. Damn it. Back when I had this double dorm all to myself, I didn’t realize how much freedom I had. I could voice chat with Z whenever I wanted. If I got restless in the middle of the night, I could just go take a shower and change into dry pants. But now, Julian was here. All of that was gone. Julian insisted on lights out by 11:30 PM sharp, and he was a light sleeper. Any little noise I made, he’d scold me. He was also a massive neat freak. If I threw dirty white socks into my own laundry basket and left them for more than half a day, he’d complain. It was incredibly annoying. I’d thought about fighting him. But he was almost 6’2″, a full half-head taller than me. Plus, he religiously went for a morning run at 7:00 AM and hit the gym to lift weights every night. The other day, I barely threw a punch before Julian easily pinned me by the neck against the closet door, asking: “Do you submit?” I really couldn’t out-argue him, and I definitely couldn’t out-fight him. I just had to take the L. But the resentment in my chest refused to fade. The next day, when Julian’s 7:00 AM alarm woke me up yet again, I opened my eyes. Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed my phone to vent to Z: [I really can’t stand my neat-freak, venomous roommate anymore. How can such an annoying roommate exist in this world? [o(╥﹏╥)o] He replied almost instantly. With a cute hugging sticker. [Pat pat, baby] [I agree, how can such an annoying roommate exist in this world?] I sent a sticker back: [Burying my face in your chest (Ծ‸Ծ)] [Z, is your roommate really annoying too?] He replied instantly. [Yeah.] [He’s very loud, and he’s not very clean.] 3 We were practically trauma bonding! Chatting away, I excitedly sat up to type. I casually typed out a few-hundred-word essay complaining about Julian. After I hit send, I worried I might be too annoying. But Z’s reply showed zero impatience. Not only did he provide immense emotional support, he also transferred me $520. I expertly accepted it, even though I wasn’t short on money. Z was very wealthy. When we first met playing games, he was always gifting me rare skins and items. After we started dating, he’d just send me money all the time. At first, I wouldn’t accept it, but he’d send a pitiful voice memo: “Baby won’t even spend my money… Do you not love me anymore…?” My heart would melt hearing that, and I’d accept it immediately. Now, after being thoroughly comforted by Z, the frustration in my chest was greatly soothed. A smile finally returned to my face: [Love you, ლ(°◕‵ƹ′◕ლ).] Z replied quickly. [（づ￣3￣）づ╭❤～] Ending the chat, I casually looked up, and my eyes met Julian, who was just about to walk out the door. He dropped his smile, quickly looked away, his expression turning cold. The upward curve of my lips instantly vanished too. Tsk, that deadpan face again. Just looking at it annoyed me. Honestly, we weren’t at each other’s throats when we first met. I’m a sucker for good looks, and Julian is handsome. Deep-set eyes beneath thick brows, a high-bridged nose, and thin, slightly pursed lips. The first time he introduced himself as my new roommate with that face, I pathetically stared in a daze. Damn. He was exactly my type. But I quickly snapped out of it. After all, I only liked Z. But as we interacted, I realized Julian really only had that face going for him. His personality was venomous and overly particular. With that face, I’d never even seen him smile. Plus, there was that one time in the dining hall. I accidentally overheard him hanging out with his frat bros, discussing intersex people. The jokes they were making were very explicit. “Julian, what do you think? Would you be into that?” I quietly perked my ears up nearby. And I heard Julian’s icy tone: “Stop talking about something so disgusting.” 4 That word, “disgusting,” pierced right into my ears. Even though I’d been called a monster and disgusting by my parents since I was little, I should have been used to it. But hearing Julian say it just pissed me off. It wasn’t like I wanted to date him anyway, yet here he was, acting disgusted. The anger went straight to my head. As I walked past him carrying my lunch tray, I deliberately “lost my grip” and spilled it all over him. The soup dripped down his shoulder. For a neat freak, this was undoubtedly the best revenge. Julian looked up and glared at me, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a dead man. I took my time flashing a wicked smile: “Oops, sorry about that, new roommate.” After that, our relationship completely deteriorated. Whatever. It wasn’t like I cared about having a good relationship with him anyway. Whenever Julian left the dorm, even the air felt fresher. I was a junior with a light class schedule. I had already applied for grad schools abroad, so I didn’t need to study for the GREs. Laying in the dorm feeling bored, I missed Z again. I tentatively sent him a sticker: [Miss you.] He replied instantly: [Baby, I’m here.] Normally, when interacting with people, I’m not much of a chatterbox. But with Z, I always had a million things to talk about. Z would reply to every single message with infinite patience. No matter what mood I was in, he always knew how to catch me. I sent him a sticker: [Shooting love biubiubiu~] Suddenly, a message popped up from him: [Baby, let’s meet up.] My heart skipped a beat, my grip slipped, and my phone dropped right off the bed. Snapping back, I was just about to climb down and pick it up. The dorm door opened. Julian, with an ice-cold expression, closed the door, locked it, looked down, and saw my lit-up phone screen. The screen was cracked in one corner, but it didn’t affect the clarity of the chat log at all. Me: ! Z’s profile picture was a faceless torso shot of him wearing a black tank top, his muscle definition incredible. Now, with the screen unlocked, Julian definitely saw all the sickeningly sweet messages between me and Z. Damn it. He found out I was e-dating a guy, and he’s definitely going to use this to mock me. But surprisingly, he didn’t make a sound. Julian stared down at the screen, looking like he had been paralyzed. Then he turned his head, his dark eyes staring intensely at me. 5 His stare gave me the creeps: “What the hell are you looking at?!” After climbing down to retrieve my phone, I looked heartbroken at the cracks on the screen, muttering: “So annoying. I just got this new phone. Nothing good ever happens when I see you.” Normally, Julian would definitely snap back. But this time, he didn’t make a peep. I shot him a suspicious look. I realized he was still frozen in place, who knows what he was thinking, but his breathing had grown heavy, and his ears were bright red. Hah, probably pissed off by me. Serves him right. I looked away and typed on my phone: “I dropped my phone just now and cracked the screen. And that psycho roommate just happened to bump into it o(╥﹏╥)o.” Normally, Z would immediately comfort me and join me in cursing Julian. But this time, he didn’t reply for a long time. Z’s request to meet was still hanging there. Was he thinking I didn’t want to meet? I hesitated, typing and deleting, and finally gritted my teeth: [Let’s meet! I want to see you too!] The moment I sent it, I regretted it a little. My heart rate was skyrocketing. Half expectant, half nervous. Even though Z hadn’t shown his face, he had sent quite a few photos over time. Not a single pec or ab was missing, and the occasional close-up of him in grey sweatpants was enough to let the imagination run wild. When Julian called me on voice, he always loved to tease me: “Baby’s so bashful, you can’t even handle this?” Every time I heard him say that sweet talk, I’d blush and run to the bathroom to change my pants. Honestly, my thoughts about him weren’t that pure. Just looking at a photo Z sent of his hand once, I… In the photo, his fingers were long, the knuckles thick and pronounced. They looked incredibly strong. If we actually met, what would happen? Would Z really hug me, kiss me, really use those hands… My face flushed hot, and I quickly shook my head. Suddenly, a message came from him. [If you really don’t want to meet, you don’t have to force yourself. We can just keep chatting online for now.] I stared at that sentence. Why did his tone suddenly feel so formal? Before I could figure out how to reply, Z suddenly sent another transfer—$520. That’s a good chunk of change. I sent a [!?] Z: [Just treat it as compensation for your phone screen.] But buying a screen replacement wouldn’t cost this much. And… why wasn’t he calling me baby anymore? I pursed my lips in annoyance. After that, Z was noticeably much colder. I was incredibly frustrated. Was it because he thought I didn’t want to meet up, so his attitude cooled off? 6 It had been days. Z only sent ‘good morning,’ ‘good afternoon,’ and ‘good night,’ plus a money transfer. When I tried to chat with him, he’d say he was busy, and then attach another transfer. I stared at a screen practically full of $520 transfers, feeling “money-sick” for the first time. Many times, I impulsively wanted to text Z: [Let’s just meet! Right now!] But I hesitated, wanting to send it but not daring to. I was still scared. Z said online that he didn’t mind my intersex body at all, but what if we actually met? Would he also find it disgusting and call me a monster? Just like my parents. Even my own biological parents couldn’t accept me, let alone an online boyfriend. I ultimately didn’t send it. My mood was terrible, plus Julian had been acting like a psycho recently. He was like a lingering ghost; he was everywhere I was. And he loved staring at me, like a dog. My mood got even worse. One day, I walked out of the dining hall, looked back, and realized he was following me again. Unable to take it anymore, I stormed up and grabbed him by the collar: “Why the hell have you been following me lately? You want to fight?” Normally, he’d sneer at me coldly: “Liam, are you a kindergartener? Why are you always trying to fight?” But today, he was unusually quiet. He let me grab his collar, and even shook his head submissively: “I wasn’t.” I’d have to be stupid to believe him. I leaned in closer, narrowing my eyes to see through his bad intentions. But I noticed his ears were red. He turned his head away to avoid my gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily. That face, usually a deadpan mask all day, showed a different expression for the first time. It looked like… shyness. Damn, what am I thinking. I shook my head, let him go, and warned: “Stay away from me!” 7 But it was like Julian was deliberately trying to do the exact opposite. He stopped his morning runs, and he stopped setting his early alarms. I had a rare chance to wake up naturally. The moment I opened my eyes, a pair of dark eyes was right above me. Julian was sitting cross-legged on my bed, staring at me. His lips curved up, his voice deep and magnetic: “Liam, morning.” That smile actually looked pretty good. I rubbed my eyes. I must be seeing things. My eye twitched, and I looked down, pretending I hadn’t heard him, acting very busy folding my blanket. Annoying people always end up together. For the only group project in my junior year. I somehow ended up in the same group as Julian. During the group discussion, normally he would have constantly contradicted me. But today went surprisingly smooth. No matter what I said, Julian nodded along incredibly supportively. Me: ? After the discussion ended, Julian suddenly offered to buy the whole group drinks. I thought with his personality, he’d probably show off and buy Starbucks or something. But he said he was buying boba. I couldn’t help but swallow, swallowing the words of refusal I was about to say. My favorite! When Julian handed me his phone, I took it, pretending to be aloof. Just as I was about to order a Cocoa Ballet, 70% sugar, double ice cream, sub A2 milk, I realized he had already added that exact order to the cart. It perfectly matched my taste. Julian glanced at me staring blankly at the order screen: “I like this flavor, what about you, Liam?” “I… same here.” Why did this feel wrong somehow? Could it really be such a coincidence? After getting back to the dorm, I finally remembered that the shorts I changed out of this morning were still unwashed, soaking in a basin. I figured Julian was going to complain about it again. But I found they had already been washed and hung up to dry. I was stunned. Above my head came Julian’s low voice: “Oh, the shorts. I washed them while I was at it. Hand-washed, they’re very clean, and… “They smell really good.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392115”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel