Category: English

I flew two thousand miles to surprise my wife. Instead, I was greeted with an invitation. “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” Her groom wasn’t me. But her wedding dress was one I had chosen, and the wedding plan was one I had designed. When she saw me, she accused me of not knowing when to let go, claiming it was all just business. Does a performance require passionate kissing? I didn’t argue. I just turned around and took a hard drive with me. It contained all the original design drafts I’d created for them over the past four years. What Mara didn’t know was that three months later, at a bidding presentation, she’d be on her knees in the snow, bankrupt, begging me for ten dollars just to buy a meal. Lucas POV To surprise my wife, I flew to the island without telling her. The taxi had barely stopped when the hotel’s greeting system sent me a text message: “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” My hand froze around the gift box. Mara Cole was my legal wife of four years in a secret marriage. Xavier Grant was her first love from college overseas, and also the star designer at my studio. Just last night, Mara had been packing her luggage. “I’ll be inspecting resort projects for a while. The clients are difficult to deal with, so I can’t get away. I’ll make up for our anniversary properly when I get back.” She complained that Xavier was clumsy and needed her to look after him. I believed her. Like an idiot, I helped her organize her clothes and told her she was working hard. She was working hard, hard enough to organize a grand wedding between inspections. I stepped into the lobby. White veils billowed in the cold sea breeze. The décor looked very familiar. A month ago, I’d stayed up three nights straight in my study to draw up this exact plan. At the time, Mara had leaned against the doorframe, holding coffee and pleading with me. “The client wants a dream wedding. Xavier’s run out of inspiration. Help him out.” I joked that this design was worth fifty thousand dollars. She hugged me and acted cute. “Helping him is helping me.” Turns out I was the free wedding planner for her own wedding. “Sir, do you have an invitation?” The receptionist stopped me. I was wearing a hoodie and jeans, carrying a small box, completely out of place among the suited guests around me. “I’m an old friend of Mara’s.” The receptionist stepped aside. The banquet hall was brilliantly lit. Mara wore a mermaid-cut wedding gown and looked so beautiful she seemed like a stranger. We’d been legally married for four years, but we’d never had a wedding or any celebration. The reason was that we had to keep a low profile during the startup phase, and I was behind-the-scenes personnel who didn’t need formalities. Right now, she stood under the spotlight, gazing at the man across from her like he was the only one in the world. Xavier Grant, nothing but an empty-headed pretty boy, spoke with deep affection. “Mara, we’ve missed so much. Today, I can finally hold your hand in front of our friends and family…” Applause thundered. Guests murmured about what a perfect couple they made, praising Xavier’s so-called brilliance. Some even claimed the island project was his work. My nails dug into my palms. Every award Xavier had ever won was something I had created. His breakthrough work was my rejected draft. His award-winning design was something I’d destroyed my stomach staying up late to finish. Even the stage beneath his feet was my creation. In the front row sat Mara’s mother, Diana, wiping away tears of joy. She took the generous support payments I sent every month, and now she sat there without a care in the world. Next to her sat my business partners, people who ate the afternoon tea I bought, now applauding as my wife married someone else. Everyone in the world knew-except me, the fool left in the dark. What inspection? What fake business marriage? All excuses. I could see it clearly: the genuine happiness radiating from Mara’s face. The officiant called out loudly, “The groom may now kiss the bride!” Mara turned her head. Her gaze cut through the crowd and landed on me. Her smile froze instantly on her face. She pushed away Xavier, who was about to kiss her, in panic. The bouquet in her hands fell to the floor. “Mara?” Xavier looked confused. Mara ignored him. She stared at me, her face deathly pale. I looked at her and expressionlessly raised the delicate gift box in my hand. Then, as she watched in horror, I let it go. The box hit the floor. The necklace inside probably broke. Just like this absurd four-year marriage. I turned and walked out of the banquet hall without looking back. Behind me came commotion and the rapid clicking of high heels on the floor. “Mara! Where are you going?” If this had been yesterday, if she had chased after me like this, I would have cried with emotion, thinking there was still a place for me in her heart. But now, I just found it ridiculous.

Lucas POV I hadn’t even reached the elevators when someone grabbed my arm hard. “Lucas! Stop right there!” Mara was out of breath, holding up her wedding dress train, her updo coming loose. There was no guilt on her face-only furious indignation. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?” I laughed bitterly. I’d caught my wife at her wedding, and her first reaction was to interrogate me. “Mara,” I looked at her like she was a stranger, “what’s today’s date?” She froze. “October sixteenth.” “Four years ago today, we registered our marriage. You said the company had something come up and left me on the side of the road. Today I flew two thousand miles to surprise you, and you gave me an even bigger surprise.” Mara’s expression stiffened for a moment, then reverted to her usual assertiveness. She straightened her hair, all business. “Can you use your brain like an adult? This is a business strategy! The clients value family values. Xavier is our brand face. For a contract worth tens of millions, we had no choice but to put on an act.” “An act requires inviting your mother? Exchanging rings? Smiling that happily?” “That’s because we had to make it realistic! How else could we fool the clients if we didn’t make it look real?” Mara raised her voice. “Who do you think I’m working myself to death out here for? It’s bad enough you don’t trust me. Now you’re sabotaging everything. If this project falls through, can you afford to compensate for it?” She was even trying to turn this around on me. “You’ve disappointed me so much. If you had even a little sense of the bigger picture, you wouldn’t cause trouble at such a critical moment.” Watching her mouth run on and on, my thoughts suddenly drifted far away. I thought back to four years ago. Back then, I was recognized as a genius in the architecture program at a university overseas. I’d won international awards before even graduating. And Mara was just an ambitious but mediocre rich girl. She started a studio but couldn’t land any projects. She cried in the rain out of desperation. I was the one who shoved the design drawings I’d labored over for half a month into her hands and told her to enter the competition. That one time made her famous overnight. Later, she said she loved me. She said I was her source of inspiration. I believed her. I gave up the opportunity to pursue advanced studies at a prestigious architectural firm for her sake, willing to be the person behind her. Over these four years, all the studio’s core proposals came from me. The credit always went to Mara or Xavier. She always said I had an introverted personality and was suited to working behind the scenes and making money. She also said Xavier had a good image, so he should be the public face. So I became the nerd who only knew how to draw. In Xavier’s words, an assistant. They took my work and accepted awards. They enjoyed the flowers and applause while I waited for her to come home with cold coffee. I thought it was sacrifice. Turns out it was just pathetic. The last trace of love in my heart went cold. I looked at that haughty expression on her face, as if she thought she controlled everything and was certain I couldn’t leave her. But what’s valuable in this industry isn’t the studio-it’s the person who creates. “Are you finished?” Mara frowned. “What’s with that attitude?” I looked at her calmly, suppressing the turmoil in my eyes. “Mara, your dress zipper isn’t closed properly.” She instinctively reached for her back. I stepped back, creating distance. “Go back. Don’t keep the groom waiting.” “You’re done making a scene?” She looked suspicious. “I’m done. Disrupting a wedding is immoral. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” I turned toward the elevator. “Go back to the room and wait for me! I’ll explain tonight!” she ordered from behind me. No need. I don’t need her love anymore either. As the elevator doors closed, I took out my phone and looked at the date on the screen. Today was our wedding anniversary. I opened my messaging app and found a contact-Chloe, my college classmate and also a divorce attorney. The last time I’d contacted her was four years ago. She’d sent me a message cursing me out back then. “Lucas, if you’re going to be someone’s ghostwriter for a woman, don’t call me your friend anymore.” I hadn’t replied at the time. My finger hovered over the screen. I took a deep breath and relied. “I’ve made up my mind. Is it still possible to pursue my dream now?” I waited a few seconds. The screen showed she was typing. Chloe only sent back a voice message. I could hear wind in the background. “Lucas, I’ve been waiting for this call for four years. Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Same old place.” I closed my phone and looked at my reflection in the elevator mirror. No one knew that my dream was to open a design studio that was truly my own. Back then, I hadn’t been worn down by life yet. All I thought about was architectural ideals. Later, I hid that dream away and had Chloe guard that small flame for me. I thought I’d never rekindle it in this lifetime. I exited the chat and casually opened my cloud storage. Inside were all the original drafts and revision records from four years of working for Mara. No matter how much I loved her, as a designer’s professional habit, I had kept the source files.

Lucas POV That same day, I went straight to the front desk to check out. I threw the carefully prepared anniversary gift into the lobby trash can. I was pulling my suitcase at the hotel entrance, about to hail a cab, when Mara chased after me. She blocked the taxi door, her face iron-gray. “Lucas, where are you going?” “Back to New York.” I opened the car door and shoved my suitcase into the back seat. “What are you throwing a fit about?” Mara lowered her voice, annoyance in her tone. “You just walk away like this-where does that leave my reputation?” I paused, then turned to look at her. “That’s your banquet, not mine.” Mara grabbed my sleeve, her nails digging into my flesh. “Lucas! When will you stop? I already told you this is just an act! I didn’t hold it against you earlier, and now you’re pushing your luck?” She took a deep breath, seemingly trying to suppress her anger. “I know you’re upset, but you need to understand my difficulties. Xavier is a public figure. The studio has relied on him as our public face these past few years. If things go wrong today, millions in prior investment will go down the drain. As a member of the company, can’t you be more mature?” Over these four years, whenever I tried to claim my rightful due, she would use “the bigger picture” to suppress me. As if my unwillingness to sacrifice made me immature and childish. I didn’t even have the desire to argue. “Mara,” my tone was calm, “I’ll have my lawyer draft divorce papers. For the specific property division, my lawyer will contact you.” Mara clearly hadn’t expected that. Her pupils contracted slightly, a flash of shock crossing her face. “Divorce?” She crossed her arms and laughed coldly. “Without me, you can’t even pay rent in New York. Your mother is still lying in a nursing home. Who’s been paying her medical bills every month? You?” One major reason I’d agreed to stay in the background was that my mother had suddenly fallen ill and urgently needed a large sum for surgery. Mara had provided that money. That was also why, no matter how much she exploited me these four years, I’d silently endured it. I felt I owed her. But she seemed to have forgotten that over these four years, the drawings I’d produced, the projects that won bids, the value I’d created had long surpassed those medical fees. “That’s none of your concern.” I opened the car door and got in. “This divorce is final.” Seeing I was serious, Mara’s expression finally changed. Her eyes turned vicious. “Lucas, don’t regret this! According to the prenup, you won’t get a single cent of the studio’s shares! Since you want to make a scene, fine-make one! When you calm down and can’t afford medicine, don’t come crawling back to me!” She pulled a document folder from her bag and slammed it onto the passenger seat. “I was going to let you rest on the island for a couple days, but since you want to leave, go back and work! The Brooklyn library project-final draft is due next week.” “Xavier will be entertaining clients these next few days and won’t have time to draw. Go back and finish the proposal. If you don’t do it right, don’t blame me when your mother’s medication gets cut off next month!” I looked at the folder on the passenger seat. This was a key city project-also critical to whether Mara’s studio could go public this year. At a time like this, she could still take for granted dumping work on me and threatening me with my mother’s life. I picked up the document folder. Outside the car, Mara looked at me with contempt, probably thinking I’d compromised for the money. “After you finish this project, I’ll transfer fifty thousand dollars as your closing fee. Driver, go!” She slammed the car door for me, then turned and walked away without looking back. The car started. I opened the folder and pulled out the materials inside. This was a project costing over a hundred million dollars. The design requirements were extremely high. Xavier had struggled with it for two months without getting approval. The client had already issued an ultimatum. If I walked away now, I could vent my anger temporarily, but I’d lose all claim to the four years of work I’d put in and the benefits I deserved. Besides, a simple divorce agreement wouldn’t be enough to completely bring them down. I needed evidence. That evidence was all on the company’s internal network, in Mara’s safe. I had to go back. Not only that. I had to make this project absolutely flawless. Because only if they thought I was still under their control would they reveal their weaknesses. “Sir, to the airport, right?” the driver asked carefully. “That earlier… was that a fight?” I resealed the folder and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. “No fight.” I said calmly, “To the airport.”

Lucas POV Three days after returning to the company, I clocked in on time. The office was covered in banners, and the front desk displayed a poster of Xavier and Mara kissing on the island. Several female colleagues huddled together sharing chocolates, their conversation loud. “Mara and Xavier have such a great relationship.” “The island wedding cost two million dollars. They really know how to spend.” I walked through the crowd toward my corner workstation. My spot was next to the printer, my desk piled with discarded paper. No one paid attention to me. “Lucas is here?” Derek walked over holding a box of chocolates and casually tossed it onto my keyboard. “Mara said everyone gets a share. Brought back from the island. A few hundred bucks a box.” I didn’t look at the chocolates. I pressed the power button on my computer. Seeing I wouldn’t engage, Derek turned to the female colleague beside him and raised his voice. “Some people are just born to do grunt work. We eat souvenirs while they have to work.” Laughter rippled around me. I logged into the company’s internal network. Derek was Xavier’s assistant. I ignored him. I opened the Brooklyn Library folder. The initial draft inside was logically chaotic and completely unusable. Obviously Xavier couldn’t handle the client and dumped this mess on me. I turned off the auto-sync function and changed the file path to my private network drive. This time, the company wouldn’t have backup copies of the source files. “How’s the proposal coming?” Mara’s voice came from behind me. The room instantly went quiet. Colleagues lowered their heads. Mara stood by my workstation, staring at my screen. “Just started.” I answered. “Hurry up.” She tapped the desk. “Friday presentation. Xavier has a sore throat, so you’ll present.” In the past, Xavier always handled these occasions while I assisted from below. Having me go this time-I guessed the project was too difficult and Xavier was afraid of exposing himself. “Got it.” Mara pointed at the chocolates on my keyboard. “Why aren’t you eating them? You think they’re beneath you?” “I don’t like them.” She sneered and turned to leave, but stopped after two steps. “My mom’s sixtieth birthday banquet is this weekend. If the proposal passes, I’ll let you make an appearance.” Attending Diana’s birthday party as her legal spouse had become a reward. “No need,” I looked at the screen. “I’m busy.” Mara’s expression darkened. “Suit yourself.” She clicked away in her heels into the general manager’s office. Ten minutes later, Xavier arrived. He walked straight to my workstation, bent down, and lowered his voice. “Did you watch the whole thing that day? My wedding was pretty good, wasn’t it? Thanks for the rough draft.” I stopped my mouse and turned to look at him, mockery in my voice. “It was good.” Xavier looked triumphant and straightened up. “Work hard. That’s the only place you’re useful.” He patted my shoulder, whistling as he walked away. I pulled out a tissue, wiped the spot on my shoulder he’d touched, and tossed the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket by my feet.

Lucas POV I went to the break room with my water cup. Derek was leaning against the coffee machine, holding a half-eaten box of gift chocolates. When he saw me come in, he shifted to block the doorway. “Lucas,” he looked me up and down, “I heard you went to the island? Why didn’t you go in for a drink before coming back?” I walked around him to get water. Derek followed, leaning against the water dispenser. “Stop pretending. Everyone in the company knows you have a crush on Mara. Look at yourself. Xavier is an overseas student-he’s got talent and looks. You’re just meant to draw. It’s complete wishful thinking.” The water overfilled and some spilled, scalding my hand. I ignored him and turned to leave. Derek called out loudly behind me. “Stop having these inappropriate thoughts. They’re a perfect match. People like you can only be background decoration.” Back at my workstation, Xavier was sitting on my desk. He was holding an architectural model in his hand. It was a small model I’d carved by hand the year I first joined the studio, given to Mara as a birthday gift. Later, Mara thought it was tacky and casually tossed it in the company’s junk pile. I picked it back up and kept it in the corner of my desk. Xavier was playing with it, disgust on his face. “What is this piece of junk?” He looked at me as I walked back. “Lucas, your taste has always been this terrible. Having something like this on the desk lowers the class of the entire studio.” I put down my water cup and reached for it. “Give it back.” Xavier raised his hand, dodging me. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. His wrist relaxed, and the model dropped into the trash can by his feet. “No need to thank me.” He dusted off his hands and jumped down from the desk. “I’m just helping you clear out the garbage. From now on, only keep work-related things on your desk. Don’t clutter it with this nonsense.” Low laughter came from around us. Xavier straightened his collar, didn’t even glance at me, and walked away.

Lucas POV At three in the afternoon, my phone rang. I walked to the window at the end of the hallway to answer. “Lucas,” my mother’s voice was a bit weak, “it’s getting cold these days. You and Mara need to take care of yourselves.” I gripped the phone tightly. “I know. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. I just miss you both. Has Mara been busy lately? If she is, don’t make her come see me. You young people need to focus on your careers.” My mother was always like this, afraid of causing me trouble. I was about to speak when I heard the sound of high heels behind me. Mara was walking out of the elevator with her arm linked through Xavier’s, followed by several administrative staff who’d just finished a meeting. She saw me. I saw her too. Mara stopped, her gaze sweeping over the phone in my hand, a playful expression crossing her face. She didn’t avoid the situation. She turned to Xavier and said, “Xavier, this weekend is my mom’s birthday party. It’s your first time attending as my partner. I’ve already prepared your gift. You need to make a good impression.” Her voice echoed in the empty hallway. Silence on the other end of the phone. A few seconds later, my mother’s puzzled voice came through. “Lucas? Was that Mara’s voice just now? What is she saying about a partner? What first time?” I felt blood rushing to my head. Mara stood not far away and tightened her grip on Xavier’s arm. Xavier smiled cooperatively. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your mom is satisfied.” “Lucas? What’s going on? Is Mara talking to someone else?” My mother’s voice grew anxious. I took a deep breath and turned away. “It’s nothing. She’s rehearsing lines. The company has a theater activity recently.” “Oh, you scared me. I thought…” “I have a meeting. I have to go.” Without waiting for my mother to say more, I hung up directly. Behind me came the sound of Mara and Xavier’s laughter. They walked into the elevator. I looked at the darkened phone screen, my fingers gripping it until my knuckles turned white. I put away my phone and turned back to the office. The progress bar on my computer had just finished. File transfer complete. Mara, I’m going to give you a gift you’ll never forget.

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While performing a medical examination on my boyfriend’s best friend Lydia, I discovered she had cancer. To help her raise money for surgery quickly, I took the initiative to offer to buy her house. But just two days after I moved in, her cancer miraculously disappeared, while I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. She filed a complaint at the hospital, saying I had forged medical records to trick her into selling me her house. “You forged medical records just to scam my house away from me. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” I denied it repeatedly, pulling up all her medical records and even showing the bank transfer receipts. But she just sneered. “Those can all be faked. If I really had late-stage cancer, how do you explain my miraculous recovery?” My boyfriend Pedro also frowned and accused me. “I checked with the bank. You haven’t even paid Lydia yet!” I couldn’t defend myself and was ultimately fired from the hospital. Even all my assets were seized by Pedro as compensation for Lydia. But I died in agony from a cancer outbreak. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn, back to the day Lydia wanted to sell her house. “If only someone would buy my house, then I could survive!”

Hearing the familiar hint in Lydia’s words, I realized I had been reborn. In my previous life, I caught her hint and took the initiative to offer to buy her house at a price above market value. She knelt before me excitedly, thanking me over and over. But just two days after I moved in, she went to the medical office to file a complaint against me. She said I had deliberately forged her late-stage cancer medical records to buy her house at a low price while she was desperate. “The moment she took over my house, the director told me I wasn’t sick at all. How can that be such a coincidence?” “Pedro already said how much she wanted her own house but couldn’t afford one. Now isn’t this the perfect opportunity?” I was fired from the hospital. Even when I produced evidence to prove my innocence, it was useless. In the end, I was left homeless, dying in agony on the street with no one caring. And I could never figure out how I, who had always been healthy, could suddenly be diagnosed with late-stage cancer. This time, no matter what she says, I won’t buy her house again! I pretended not to understand her hint, putting my hands in my pockets and smiling faintly. “Why don’t you post your medical records and property deed online? There are so many kind people out there. As long as your price is right, someone will definitely be willing to buy.” Lydia’s smile froze. She stood up abruptly, her face showing the humiliation of being insulted. “Dr. Betty, I just want to sell my house. I haven’t reached the point where I need to be humiliated by strangers online!” “You’re insulting me! I’m sick, but I’m not a beggar. If it has to be like this, I’d rather not sell the house.” I said nothing more. Seeing my silence, the anxiety on Lydia’s face intensified. She changed tactics. “Pedro’s girlfriend is also my friend. We have such a good relationship. You surely can’t bear to see me struggling with money, right? How about…” She drew out her words, her eyes drifting toward me. I nodded, took out several business cards from real estate agencies from my drawer, and pushed them toward her. “These are all well-known agencies that sell properties quickly. If you list with all of them simultaneously, you’ll definitely sell soon.” Lydia was choked by my words, her face full of unwillingness and irritation. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice sharp and urgent. “Are you deliberately pushing me into a pit of fire? Those unscrupulous agencies are all eyeing my commission fees.” “If I give them the money, how will I pay for treatment?” “What I meant was, as long as you buy it, I’ll…” I immediately cut her off. “You’d better think of another way. I don’t have money.” Lydia’s face instantly darkened. She grabbed my hand, her tone full of entitlement. “You don’t have money, so you can’t buy my house? I’m not asking for much, just seven hundred thousand. You’re telling me you can’t come up with that?” “It’s still early. Come with me right now to transfer the ownership!” With that, she pulled me quickly toward the door. I lowered my eyes, watching her eager appearance, and sneered. Was she trying to force a sale? I yanked my hand back forcefully. Lydia’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “I know you look down on my illness, but my house isn’t sick!” “I’m begging you not to force me to list with an agency! I haven’t raised enough for my surgery yet. I really can’t afford the agency fees!” Before I could speak, Pedro rushed in from outside. He supported the swaying Lydia and frowned at me accusingly. “Betty, Lydia just wants to sell her house. Why are you being so aggressive?”

I put on a stern face and adopted a businesslike attitude. “As her attending physician, I’m only responsible for treating and saving patients. I have no obligation to help her raise money for surgery.” But Pedro didn’t take my words to heart. He waved his hand impatiently. “You want to buy a house, Lydia wants to sell a house. It’s a win-win situation. Why are you making such a fuss? You even insist she list with an agency.” “You’re just petty, always scheming against your own people.” Watching his complaining expression, I was dazed for a moment. In my previous life when Lydia complained about me, he had the same impatient look. “I’ve known Lydia for over ten years. She never lies. You should just admit it.” “Apologize to Lydia and give her back the house. Consider the purchase money as compensation for her, and she’ll definitely forgive you.” “Sacrificing a little benefit is better than losing your job.” He defended Lydia at every turn and never believed me even a little. A surge of impulse rose in my chest, and I couldn’t help but speak. “Pedro, let’s break…” But before I could finish, Pedro pulled out a set of keys from behind and showed them off to me. “Good thing Lydia said she wanted to surprise you and already transferred the house to me, otherwise you would have lost your house!” He casually tossed the keys on my desk without another glance at me, instead urging me to transfer the money quickly. All color drained from my face. My mouth opened and closed several times before I finally found my voice, asking Pedro with a trembling voice. “You bought Lydia’s house?” Pedro nodded nonchalantly. I quickly threw the keys back. “I don’t want this house. Since you love being charitable, you keep it and live there!” Pedro’s face turned from green to white. After a long pause, he squeezed out a sentence. “We’re going to get married eventually. Can’t we just use it as our wedding house? Besides, I’m just helping a friend. Can you not be so petty?” “Hurry up and transfer the money to Lydia. Don’t delay her surgery!” I didn’t speak for a long time. Lydia dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, raising her voice. “Dr. Betty, please give me the money! I’m waiting for this money to save my life!” “You can look down on my house, but you can’t refuse to pay after the house has been transferred! I’m waiting for this money for surgery!” Pedro chimed in, every word implying I was untrustworthy and unrighteous. The patients who had been waiting outside the door heard this and began accusing me one after another. “I don’t dare let a doctor without basic human morality treat me. Who knows if she’ll also try to take my money?” “Exactly. She can refuse to pay now. Who knows if next time, if we ask too many questions, she might deliberately prescribe the wrong medicine and kill us!” “With this kind of doctor in the hospital, I don’t dare come here for treatment anymore! Who knows if the hospital will cover for her too!” As soon as this was said, the commotion grew louder, demanding the hospital fire me. The smile on Lydia’s face gradually became smug. She held her phone in front of me, chin slightly raised, signaling me to pay. I straightened my clothes and calmly opened the recording on my phone. “From beginning to end, I never agreed to your request to buy the house, nor did I say I would buy it. Why should I pay?” “Just because your family is poor doesn’t mean you can morally blackmail people here, right? If everyone else follows your example, wouldn’t I have to buy everyone’s house?” The noisy hallway suddenly fell silent.

Lydia’s eyes reddened. “Betty, I know you’re worried other patients will follow my example, which is why you kept refusing me, but now the keys are in your hands. Stop denying it!” Pedro also echoed her, telling me to just admit it. He smiled confidently, as if as long as he spoke, I would definitely compromise. I sneered. “Dream on!” Pedro’s face instantly darkened. He slapped me across the face. “Betty, the money’s already been given. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” “I’m telling you, today you’re taking this house whether you want to or not!” “Lydia already transferred it to your name. You have no right to refuse!” I covered my face, watching them determined to force the house on me, and my thoughts drifted. In my previous life, when I was diagnosed with cancer, it was already late-stage. The director lamented that if only I had discovered it earlier, it wouldn’t have been untreatable. But I had never shown any symptoms. Could it really be late-stage cancer? Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the director sending me my test results. “Betty, you’re perfectly healthy. I think you’ve just been overworked lately, imagining you have cancer. Just get more rest.” The weight in my heart lifted. But the next second, a deeper confusion welled up. If I didn’t have cancer, then what about the late-stage cancer in my previous life? I pretended to stay calm and looked up at Pedro with a smile. “Since you both insist I take the house, I’ll take it.” Just as their expressions relaxed, I changed my tone. “However… put the house in your name. After all, you paid for it with your money. It’s only reasonable to put it in your name.” Pedro’s expression stiffened, his eyes evasive. “This house was mortgaged using your identity information. I can’t change it to my name.” He paused, his tone changing from humble to righteous. “We’re going to be family anyway. Just write off this money!” In my previous life, when he used all my savings as compensation for Lydia, he said the same thing. “Everything I’m doing is atoning for your sins. Why are you so ungrateful?” “Betty, you owe Lydia. You can never repay her in this lifetime! Let alone this little money!” Thinking of this, I couldn’t contain my anger anymore. I kicked Pedro’s knee. “You used my identity to get a mortgage to buy your best friend’s house? Since you love outsourcing charity, why don’t you take the house and the mortgage?” “You can afford the house money! Either put the house in your name, or…” I paused and turned to Lydia with a smile. “Return every cent of the bank transfer to me! I don’t care whether your surgery happens or not.” Hearing this, Pedro turned his face away without a word. But Lydia cried breathlessly. “Betty, you’re making such a fuss because you think my house is dirty! I’m sick, but my house isn’t sick!” “If I die, will you accept my house? Then I’ll satisfy you!” With that, Lydia ran quickly toward the window and, with force, climbed onto the windowsill, preparing to jump.

In an instant, the entire hallway filled with successive cries of alarm and blame. “It’s just using your identity to get a mortgage to buy a friend’s house. You’re going to get married eventually. What’s wrong with family members taking on a mortgage? The house is in your name anyway.” “Exactly! To prove her house is clean, she’s about to jump to her death. Are you satisfied now?” “If I were you, I would have accepted the house long ago! Such good fortune falls in your lap, you should be thrilled!” Pedro glared at me and pushed me aside hard, catching Lydia around the waist. Seeing her safe, Pedro breathed a sigh of relief. He turned and berated me. “This house is tied to Lydia’s life. You’re just losing some money and taking on debt, but Lydia is losing her life!” “Even if you really don’t want this house, you shouldn’t force Lydia to return the money! Don’t you know you can sell it yourself?” Hearing this, Lydia’s crying, which had been subsiding, grew louder again. She grabbed Pedro’s hand, crying breathlessly, shaking her head repeatedly. “You can’t let Dr. Betty sell it. I’ll only give my house to her. I won’t agree to anyone else.” “I don’t have much time left. Please just grant me this last wish!” I looked around. Everyone wanted to tear me apart and devour me. Since Lydia insisted I accept the house, I wanted to see what was so important about this house that she had to force it on me! After thinking it through, I stopped resisting and agreed to take the house. Seeing my agreement, Lydia immediately stopped crying. She blinked and made a request hesitantly. “Dr. Betty, I’m glad you don’t mind. But I want to see you move in with my own eyes…” Before she finished, Pedro agreed on my behalf. “Whatever conditions you state, whether it’s a thousand or ten thousand, Betty will agree!” Lydia’s eyes lit up, immediately pushing further. “Then Dr. Betty, I want to receive videos from you every day showing you living there, just to satisfy my attachment to the house.” “I won’t watch much. I just want to see you sleeping, to feel like I’m experiencing it with you.” But she still wasn’t satisfied and continued, demanding that Pedro and I sleep in the same room. But I had to sleep on the bed while Pedro slept on the floor. I agreed through gritted teeth, but became more guarded. Now Lydia laughed outright, eagerly pulling me toward the hospital exit, saying she wanted to help me move. Watching Pedro move my luggage into the master bedroom, Lydia’s tightly clenched hands finally relaxed. She smiled while helping me organize things, her instructions never stopping. “Dr. Betty, I bought this bed at a high price. It guarantees high-quality sleep. You must use it well!” “Especially this mattress, it’s a matching set with the bed, and it fits perfectly. Don’t change it unless necessary.” I nodded carelessly, paying no attention to her words. Before leaving, Lydia, pale-faced, repeated those words again. She paused, as if kindly reminding me. “Dr. Betty, you should pay more attention to your health lately. What if you also get cancer? Don’t be like me, only discovering it so late. If you feel any discomfort, make sure to get checked immediately.” My heart surged with alarm. How did Lydia know I would get cancer? But the next second, remembering the test results on the report, my heart settled. My gaze unconsciously swept over the walls and furniture, everything looking freshly renovated. A suspicion arose in my mind. Could my cancer be related to this house? I carefully recalled Lydia’s behavior in forcing the house on me and her parting words. I became increasingly certain there was something wrong with the house. I called in professionals to test the entire house for formaldehyde, but the result showed zero formaldehyde, nothing wrong with the house. To verify my suspicion, I took tools and searched every corner of the house, but found nothing. Just as I was puzzled, I suddenly remembered my best friend’s earlier joke. “Sleeping in a sick patient’s bed, aren’t you afraid of bad luck? There might be a curse.” At the time, I laughed at her superstition, but this sentence awakened me. What if it really was a problem with the bed? My gaze slowly fell on that bed, and I yanked the mattress off onto the floor. Looking at what was revealed under the mattress, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. I finally understood how Lydia’s late-stage cancer disappeared!

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On our seventh wedding anniversary, the police called me to come to the station. A couple had reported that my company’s products gave their child food poisoning. The wife was Mary. The husband was Terry. I froze, because my husband’s name was also Terry. When I arrived at the police station, I saw Terry with his arm around a woman. He lit a cigarette: “I have a three-year-old child with her. That’s how it is.” I smiled and pulled out the divorce papers I’d prepared four years ago: “You can sign them now.” Mary left the police station in tears, carrying her son. Because I’d argued her into silence. Faced with my legal knowledge, she broke down crying in frustration. When we got home, I strode ahead while Terry followed with a frown: “Could you have a better attitude? What kind of ability is bullying a mother and child!” “Bullying?” I whirled around: “There’s nothing wrong with my company’s food. She obviously fed her child something he shouldn’t have eaten and wanted to frame me to get compensation! Can’t you see that! “Who’s bullying who!” Terry frowned. I stepped forward: “You know perfectly well how clean my formula is, yet you still helped them report me.” I laughed coldly, looking at him with mockery: “You really haven’t changed.” He let out a sigh: “Lisa, sometimes you really lack empathy.” I froze. “The child is only three. She’s a first-time mother. When he got food poisoning so badly, of course she panicked. “Instead of being understanding, you seized on a single mother’s small mistake and wouldn’t let it go. “You…” He looked me up and down. His lips suddenly curved into a mocking smile: “You’re not fit to be a mother. No wonder you can’t understand how parents feel.” I stared at him in disbelief. The next second—crack! My palm landed hard across his face. “Terry! Why can’t I be a mother! Don’t you know?!” Terry seemed to finally remember, lowering his eyes to avoid my gaze. But I wouldn’t let him off: “Back in school, when you got drunk and fought with those guys, they came at you with a broken bottle. “I blocked it for you! The bottle stabbed my abdomen, that’s why I can’t get pregnant!” Guilt flickered across Terry’s face. I smiled bitterly: “If I’d known you were fighting those guys over Mary that day, I would never have saved you.” Terry’s throat bobbed: “…I’m sorry… I said the wrong thing.” “You’ve said a lot of wrong things these past seven years.” I looked at him: “Frankly, you just don’t take me or our marriage seriously. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said something like that without thinking. “Have you ever said the wrong thing to Mary?” He fell silent. I answered for him: “Of course not.” “I…” “Terry.” I cut him off: “Don’t make excuses. “Not taking it seriously means not taking it seriously, just like when I said I’d give you one last chance.” I looked at my name on his chest. I laughed coldly: “You just paid lip service to cherishing our last opportunity.” “I’ve already taken things underground with her. What more do you want?”

I looked at him in disbelief. He seemed irritated: “These past four years, have you seen any trace of them in my life? “No, right?” I couldn’t believe it: “Terry…” “Enough, Lisa.” He frowned: “Originally, if you hadn’t been so petty and unreasonable about this, you wouldn’t have found out and damaged our relationship. We could have lived together just fine.” People really do laugh when they’re extremely angry. This complaint against my company should have just been a matter for the legal department. I didn’t need to get involved. But I recognized the complaint number as familiar—it was Mary’s. I investigated personally and discovered Terry’s lingering connection with her. Terry sighed: “Just pretend you didn’t see this. “Lisa, don’t destroy the relationship we’ve worked so hard to repair.” I laughed. I slammed the divorce papers on the table: “If you really valued this relationship, you wouldn’t still be in contact with her!” “What are you doing?” Seeing the words “Divorce Agreement,” Terry’s breathing visibly caught. “Put that away!” He tried to tear up the agreement, but I pressed it down firmly. “Terry, I told you—four years ago was our last chance.” “Lisa…” “Three days.” I stared at him: “Give me an answer.” “Lisa! Lisa!!” I left without looking back. He didn’t call me back. I left him alone with the agreement, his fingers trembling slightly. I waited two days. Terry didn’t respond. He didn’t reply to my messages either. I decided to go home in person to push for an answer. But just as I reached the door, I heard the sound of drinking inside: “Terry, it’s the last day for that divorce agreement. You really not going to do something about it?” “Do something?” Terry laughed coldly: “She’s being unreasonable! She should give me an explanation!” What? My hand froze on the doorknob. “We’ve been married seven years. The past is the past—bringing Mary home was admittedly too much. But these past four years we’ve been more in love than any couple. Even if we fight, she shouldn’t threaten me with divorce.” Terry waved the agreement: “Hasn’t she thought about how much this tantrum hurts our relationship?” I bit my lip. His friend glanced at the door, his breathing catching, but chose not to alert anyone. Instead, he asked another question: “Terry, what if she’s serious?” “Serious?” Terry laughed: “We’ve risked our lives for each other. It’s not that easy to break apart.” “Then why did you have a child with Mary? I thought you’d really turned over a new leaf.” Terry clinked glasses with them: “When you have a life-and-death love, you don’t need to be as careful as in the beginning. “We saved each other’s lives. She and I can never be separated in this lifetime.” I took a sharp breath, my heartbeat racing with anger. I quietly closed the door. It seemed it was time to go through litigation. When I had my people prepare the lawsuit materials, Terry’s message came through on the third day: [Instead of wasting time making trouble with me, you should quickly compensate Mary for her losses] After that, he sent a court summons—a lawsuit filed by Mary. She was suing my company’s food safety, claiming it caused her child’s food poisoning. I hadn’t expected that after I made her cry in court that time, she still wouldn’t give up. But this persistence had to have someone backing her. I called Terry: “You helped her file?” Terry chuckled softly without answering. The answer was obvious. “What if I don’t pay?” “Lisa, you should think carefully. The legal team appearing in court this time is from my company.” My breathing caught.

“Why be so stubborn? Just admit it.” I gripped my phone: “This company was built by my grandfather. It’s accumulated so much goodwill over a hundred years. Admitting fault means destroying the brand image Lisa Group has built?” Terry sighed: “Must you make things difficult for them?” “You’re the ones making things difficult for me!” I gritted my teeth: “Mary fed her child something he shouldn’t have eaten!” Terry was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had turned cold: “Then do as you wish.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear. I stood there gripping my phone. Julian from the legal department looked at me with concern: “Lisa, Terry Group has sent us a lawyer’s letter. Their team has never lost a case domestically or internationally. We…” I clenched my fist: “Fight it. I’ll be right there with you.” Julian’s eyes lit up. On the day of the hearing, when I appeared as both defendant and lead attorney, Terry was visibly stunned. He didn’t know I had a law degree. My phone buzzed—a message from him. I ignored it and faced Terry Group’s legal team head-on. Throughout the proceeding, Terry’s expression grew increasingly dark. He discovered his legal team wasn’t invincible. And that I’d been hiding my legal abilities all along. When the court dismissed Mary’s lawsuit, Mary broke down crying in the courtroom. I glanced coldly at Terry. His expression was unreadable. But as we left the courtroom, he caught me at the door. He smiled meaningfully: “Ms. Lisa, you’re far more capable than I imagined.” “What, Mr. Terry planning to appeal for your mistress?” “No.” He smiled: “You’re so capable, why would I oppose you?” I looked at him in confusion. He was already leaving: “Then I wish Ms. Lisa great success in her career.” I frowned: “What is he planning?” That night I didn’t go home from the office. I checked the warehouse, inspected safety and fire prevention, making sure there wasn’t a single vulnerability. Only then did I feel at ease. Julian left work with me: “Thank goodness you were there, otherwise those litigators would have swindled all our profits! “Terry is so heartless, actually having his team claim all our operating income as compensation for Mary! “When it was clearly Mary who fed her child the wrong thing! The favoritism is too obvious!” “Exactly! Whose husband is Terry anyway!” Julian quickly covered her subordinate’s mouth, carefully watching my expression. I just stiffened slightly, then smiled: “It’s fine. Let’s go.” Julian’s face brightened: “Okay!” Just as we left the factory grounds, a huge explosion came from behind. Julian immediately shielded me. Hot wind rushed past. I whipped around. Above the factory—flames shot into the sky!

“Dad! Mom!” I rushed back like a madwoman. Julian and the others grabbed me: “Lisa! It’s dangerous! You can’t go in!” “My parents’ belongings are still in there!” “Lisa!” They held me tighter. Fire trucks and patrol cars arrived one after another. The scene was cordoned off. Everyone held me back, not letting me get close. My breathing shook: “My parents’ belongings are still inside! Everything’s in there! Let me go!” “Even so! They’re gone now anyway!” The rescue workers pleaded earnestly. I stared at his soot-blackened face. All my strength to rush forward vanished. I turned around. In the distance, a Rolls-Royce. A familiar face appeared behind the window. Terry held a cigar between his fingers, watching my side with satisfaction. In the passenger seat, Mary held her child, finally smiling. Terry got out of the car. “You humiliated Mary in court. You should give her some compensation, right?” I couldn’t speak. “Although all the inventory is gone, I’ll pay to replace it afterward. Don’t blame her—it was all my idea.” My throat tightened painfully. Inside were all the traces left by my parents and grandfather. When I was five, Mom held me while she and Dad took me through it all. Pointing at each piece of equipment, telling me the story of the brand’s founding. They stroked my head: “The company will be yours someday. Take good care of it.” “Dad, Mom, I’m sorry…” Everything went black. The world spun before my eyes. Terry’s smug, leisurely expression froze in that moment. “Lisa!” Before I lost consciousness, I heard his panicked voice. When I opened my eyes again, my abdomen ached with a sinking pain. I covered it, looking blankly at the doctor and Terry. The doctor sighed: “The baby is gone. Caused by excessive grief.” “Baby…” I propped myself up: “I was pregnant?” The doctor nodded: “Two months.” I fell back onto the bed. Two months… these past two months, I’d been busy with the lawsuit. So those times I felt dizzy and nauseous weren’t just from being too tired… “Your body already has difficulty conceiving. Why weren’t you more careful? “In the future, I’m afraid you really won’t be able to get pregnant.” I closed my eyes. Tears streamed down my temples, soaking the entire pillow. After the doctor left, Terry gripped my hand tightly. “Lisa, I’m sorry, I didn’t know… I…” His voice caught. His forehead pressed against my hand, his shoulders trembling slightly: “I’ve been hoping for this child for so long… It’s all my fault… I should have noticed you were pregnant… “But at that time I was still preparing for the lawsuit against you…” Indeed, both he and I had been hoping for a child of our own. Now it was gone. There would never be another. Because he wanted to vent Mary’s anger. “Lisa, I’ll send them away. This time I’ll really send them away.” His phone rang. He answered, his expression freezing instantly. “I’ll be right there.” “Where are you going?” I looked at him with red eyes: “Mary, right?” He hesitated: “It’s not her. The child has a fever.” “What about my child!” My nails dug deep into his palm and the back of his hand. He paused, then pried my fingers open one by one: “I’ll come back.” I covered my aching abdomen, laughing through tears. I had no child anymore. But he did. Mary did too. When Julian came to see me, I’d already fallen from the bed. She quickly helped me up: “Lisa! I’ll get the doctor right away!” “No need.” I stared straight ahead: “Discharge me. Take me home.” In front of Terry’s and my marital home, I wore a warm coat, holding a torch in my hand. “You’re really going to burn it?” I tossed the torch onto the pile of kindling. My voice was flat: “Yes.” Terry had carried me into this place once. Those beautiful memories were too painful to look at. If I was leaving, I’d burn the past clean. “Should we say goodbye to Terry?” “No need.” The private plane was already waiting on the tarmac. I handed her the divorce papers: “Just give him this.” The plane took off. The fire still hadn’t died. I didn’t look back. I’d never come back again.

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At the engagement party, my fiancé Lucas and his mother suddenly pulled out a “Prenuptial Promise Agreement” and handed it to me. “Aria, since we’re about to get married, just sign this agreement.” I took the agreement and opened it: [The bride must guarantee she is a virgin before marriage and deposit $300,000 as a “virginity guarantee deposit” into the mother-in-law’s account] [If the bride is found not to be a virgin after marriage, the $300,000 will be fully forfeited, and the bride’s salary must be handed over in full to repay the groom’s brother’s mortgage] My mother trembled with rage. “Are you marrying a wife or buying a slave?” But Lucas just spread his hands with an innocent expression. “Ma’am, girls these days are too wild. If Aria really is a virgin, what’s there to be afraid of signing this?” Lucas’s mother’s wrinkled face scrunched together as she pressed her hand firmly on the back of mine. “Aria, don’t blame Lucas for being cautious.” “These days, girls out there have wild hearts—who knows who they’ve been with behind closed doors?” “The Miller family is a respectable household. Lucas’s brother Tyler is still in school, and we’ll need plenty of money going forward.” “If you put this $300,000 into my account, it’s your ‘proof of loyalty,’ showing that you only have the Miller family in your heart. I’ll definitely treat you like my own daughter from now on.” My mother was shaking with anger, her knuckles white from gripping her wine glass. “Lucas, Aria has been with you for three years. Hasn’t she been good enough to you? Why should Aria use her salary to fill the hole for your brother’s house?” Lucas took a sip of champagne, the alcohol spraying on my face. His refined features twisted. “Ma’am, please don’t get upset.” He set down his glass with a light clink. Then he turned to look at me, his eyes gentle. “Aria, our family is very traditional. Look at the relatives at this table—whose wife wasn’t a virgin before marriage? Three hundred thousand dollars buys peace of mind and reputation.” “If you’re really as pure as you say, what’s the difference between the money being in your mother’s account or my mother’s account?” “Unless…” He drew out the sound, his gaze sweeping over my chest and waist, making me nauseous. “Unless your body has long since lost that value.” The Miller family relatives around us started whispering, their voices growing louder. “Exactly, Lucas is such a steady young man. These terms aren’t excessive.” “Young people these days—who knows how wild they are in private?” “The Millers are honest people who’ve been burned before.” “Aria seems like a smart girl, but making such a fuss over signing something—how immature.” Lucas’s best man, Derek, shouted loudly. “Aria, just sign it! Lucas is giving you this opportunity because he loves you.” “Our Lucas is a manager at a publicly traded company. Girls lining up to date him could stretch to Paris. He’s being generous just waiting for you.” “This $300,000 is Lucas giving you face!” I looked down at the “Prenuptial Promise Agreement,” feeling suffocated. Just then, my phone buzzed in my purse. It was a confirmation message from my best friend Bella. I glanced at it, then took a deep breath and gripped the pen tightly. Seeing this, Lucas’s mother pushed the ink pad toward me, its bright red color glaring. “Sign it, Aria.” Lucas’s voice was low, carrying undeniable pressure. “The car convoy is still waiting outside. We still need to go to your house for the bride pickup ceremony.” “If you back out now, where will your father the university professor put his face?” I looked up and met Lucas’s eyes—so certain I wouldn’t dare resist. He was sure I would sign, sure I wouldn’t dare make a scene in this setting. He didn’t know that the DNA test report in my purse had been there for a week. I held the pen. The whole room fell silent.

“Lucas,” I spoke, my voice cold, “if I sign, can you guarantee you’ll treat me well for the rest of our lives?” “Absolutely!” Joy flashed in Lucas’s eyes as he reached out to put his arm around my shoulder. “As long as you’re obedient, you’ll have the final say in our family.” I dodged his hand, the pen tip touching the paper with a sound. Instead of signing my name directly, I quickly added a line of small text after the virginity clause. [If the groom conceals an illegitimate child before marriage or commits major deception, he must compensate the bride $3 million and leave the marriage with nothing.] Then I signed “Aria Carter” and slapped the agreement down in front of Lucas. Lucas froze, not expecting me to pull this move. His mother couldn’t read the fine print clearly. Seeing only that I had pressed my red thumbprint, she smiled broadly and snatched the paper to tuck into her clothes. “Good, good that you signed!” “Lucas, quick, pour Aria some wine. We’re all one family now!” But Lucas’s expression darkened. He stared hard at that line of text, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Aria, what is this supposed to mean?” He lowered his voice, his tone angry. “Illegitimate child? Have you lost your mind? Everyone knows my character!” I picked up my wine glass and swirled it, watching the clear liquid. “Lucas, since you think purity and honesty are the foundation of marriage.” “Then I’m adding this clause. You shouldn’t have any objections, right?” “After all, if you’re innocent, what’s there to be afraid of signing this?” I threw his words right back at him. Lucas’s best man Derek leaned over to look, but Lucas shoved him away. “What are you looking at! Eat your food!” Lucas shouted once, then turned back with a forced smile. “Fine, Aria. You’ve got guts. We’ll see about this.” The banquet returned to its lively state. But no one at the main table was talking. My mother held my hand, her palm covered in cold sweat. She leaned close to my ear, her voice trembling. “Aria, let’s leave. We’re not going through with this wedding. This family’s heart is too black.” “Mom, it’s not time yet.” I patted the back of her hand. “Some accounts need to be settled in front of the whole world to be truly satisfying.” Lucas’s brother Tyler, that twelve-year-old boy, was grabbing at chicken drumsticks and eating with oil all over his mouth. He looked at me sideways, his eyes full of hostility and greed. “Aria, my brother said that from now on all the money you earn has to go toward buying me a house.” Tyler mumbled indistinctly. “My brother also said your family’s old house will have to be put in my name too. Because when you marry my brother, it becomes our family’s property.” My mother’s eyes looked ready to pop out. “Lucas, is this how you teach children?” Lucas’s mother slapped the back of Tyler’s head. “What nonsense is this child spouting!” Lucas covered his mouth and coughed, then picked up his glass to toast the next table. His steps were clearly somewhat unsteady. I watched his retreating figure, a smile playing at my lips. Tyler’s face looked exactly like Lucas’s. Especially the black mole behind the ear. Lucas said he was an “old-age baby” his mother had at forty. But what “old-age baby” would look so identical to his older brother? I stood up, excusing myself to go to the restroom. Pushing open the private room door, I saw Lucas standing in the shadows of the fire escape corridor, roaring into his phone. “Didn’t I just transfer you five thousand?” “How much more do you want? I’m telling you, today is my engagement day. Don’t push me!” A woman’s crying and shouting came through the phone, especially piercing in the empty hallway. “Tyler is your son too. You can’t just ignore him!” “If I can’t get that $300,000, I’m taking the kid to make a scene at your office!” I gripped my phone and pressed the record button. Lucas was panting in the shadows, his back tense. “Madison, listen carefully!” His voice was very low, his tone vicious. “That idiot Aria has already signed. As soon as that $300,000 comes through, I’ll transfer it to you immediately.” “I’m also figuring out the mortgage situation. Her salary card will be managed by my mom from now on—you won’t be short on child support.” “Now shut up and stay put with the kid!” The woman on the other end was still relentless. Lucas punched the wall with a dull thud. “Don’t talk to me about status. You were the one who insisted on having the baby. Now you want legitimacy?” “Dream on!” “Aria’s father is a professor. Her family has prestige and respectability. What can you give me?” “Besides demanding money, what else can you do?” I stood behind the door, dizzy with rage.

Three years. I’d been with him for three years. I thought he climbed so desperately because his family was poor. I thought he was so indulgent with his brother because he loved his family. Turns out I was just his cash cow to support his illegitimate child. Turns out that $300,000 “virginity deposit” was hush money for his ex-girlfriend! “Who’s there?” Lucas turned around, his gaze sweeping toward the corner where I was hiding. I didn’t hide. I pushed open the fire door and walked out, waving my still-recording phone. Lucas’s face instantly turned deathly pale. His whole body froze. “A-Aria? When did you get there?” He stammered, taking a step back. I walked toward him as he kept backing away with each step I took. “From when you called me an idiot. From when you said you’d use my salary to support your son.” “Lucas, you’ve calculated this so well—I could hear the clicking of your abacus from three floors away.” The panic on Lucas’s face quickly turned into something sinister. “Aria, give me the phone.” He reached out his hand, his tone dark. “You heard wrong. That was… that was Derek’s situation. I was helping him handle some trouble.” “Helping Derek handle an illegitimate child? Lucas, do you think I’m three years old?” I jerked backward, avoiding his lunging hand. “Tyler has the exact same mole behind his ear as you do.” “The DNA report is in my purse. How long are you going to keep pretending?” Lucas’s pupils contracted sharply—he hadn’t expected I’d actually gotten a DNA test. “You followed me?” “You actually dared to investigate me?” He shrieked, then glanced at the guests outside. He dropped to his knees in front of me with a thud, his hands gripping my thighs tightly. “Aria, I was wrong!” “It was an accident. I was young and foolish back then—Madison trapped me.” “I do love you! If I didn’t love you, why would I go to such lengths to marry you?” “I just wanted to cut ties with her, so I wanted to use this money to send her away.” “Help me, just this once. As long as we get married, I promise I’ll never see them again!” Looking at his tearful face, I only felt disgusted. “Let go!” I struggled desperately, my high heels leaving black marks on his suit pants. “Lucas, you make me sick.” “This wedding is off. Get lost!” “Off?” Lucas looked up, tears still on his face but his eyes ice-cold. “Aria, saying you want to call it off now—it’s too late!” “There are over a hundred relatives watching outside. Does your father’s reputation mean nothing?” “You signed the paper. That $300,000—you’re giving it whether you want to or not!” He suddenly stood up and grabbed my wrist, sending sharp pain through it. “Delete the recording and come back with me to toast.” “Otherwise, I guarantee you won’t walk out of this hotel today!” “Lucas, have you lost your mind?” Tears welled up from the pain, but I protected my phone with all my strength. “I have lost my mind—driven crazy by self-righteous women like you!” Lucas dragged me toward the private room. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You think your good background makes you special?” “In my eyes, you’re just an ATM!” “If you know what’s good for you, cooperate obediently. We can finish this act and go our separate ways afterward.” “But if you dare ruin my event, I’ll make your whole family pay!” Pushing open the private room door, the malice disappeared from Lucas’s face. He put on an expression of deep grievance. “Mom, Aria… she wants to call off the engagement!” Lucas called out with a sob in his voice, and the entire banquet hall instantly erupted.

Lucas’s mother had been bragging about that agreement to several relatives. Hearing this, she jumped up. “What? Call off the engagement?” “Aria, what’s wrong with you?” “You’ve already signed, already pressed your thumbprint—what are you making a fuss about now?” My mother rushed over and pulled me from Lucas’s grasp. Seeing the purple finger marks on my wrist, her eyes turned red. “Lucas, what did you do to my daughter?” “We’re calling off this engagement. It must be called off!” “Fine, call it off. But hand over the $300,000.” His mother stood with hands on hips, spittle flying. “And the money for this engagement party, and all the money Lucas spent on you these three years—not a penny less!” “You tramp, trying to run off with the money before even entering our door? No way!” The surrounding relatives also crowded around. Every one of them glared at me, pointing and gossiping. “The Carter girl is too outrageous. Who calls off an engagement at the engagement party?” “She must have someone else on the side and feels guilty.” “Just look at her—she doesn’t seem like a decent girl. Poor Lucas.” I broke free from my mother, walked to the main table, and grabbed the microphone. Lucas realized what I was about to do and rushed over like a madman to snatch it. “Aria, don’t you dare!” “Stop him!” Though my mother didn’t know what was happening, she still blocked Lucas’s path with all her might. Derek and several groomsmen also surrounded us, the scene descending into chaos. Lucas’s mother rushed toward my purse, shrieking. “A report! Lucas said she has some report in her purse.” “It must be a report about her and some wild man!” She ripped open my leather purse, contents scattering everywhere. A blue folder fell to the ground, its cover reading: [Paternity Test Report]. The entire room fell silent. Lucas’s mother froze. She couldn’t read, but she recognized photos. Inside the report was a comparison photo of Tyler and Lucas drinking water. Bella had secretly taken it. “What’s this?” “Isn’t that just Lucas and Tyler?” His mother muttered, her eyes evasive. Seeing this, Lucas completely lost it. He knew that once the truth came out, the image he’d carefully cultivated at work would be completely destroyed. “Aria, I’ll kill you.” He roared, randomly grabbing a heavy fire extinguisher from the table and swinging it down at my head. “Aria, watch out!” My mother screamed and lunged to shield me. I stood in place, a smile playing at my lips, not dodging at all. At that moment, an electric current suddenly sounded from the banquet hall’s four speakers. Then Lucas’s calculating voice echoed throughout the venue. [That idiot Aria has already signed. As soon as that $300,000 comes through, I’ll transfer it to you immediately…] [Tyler is your son too. You can’t just ignore him…] The fire extinguisher stopped less than four inches from my head. Lucas froze mid-air. His face turned from red to blue, then to ashen gray. All the guests—over a hundred people—gaped, staring hard at the big screen. On the screen, where wedding photos had been playing, now scrolled video of Lucas in the fire escape corridor, roaring into his phone. It was Bella. I’d arranged for her to go to the control booth beforehand, waiting for exactly this moment. “Lucas,” I spoke: “Hmph, $300,000 virginity deposit. Do you think your life is worth that price?”

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To be fair, Mom forced me—someone with a heart condition—to participate in the fitness test. At five hundred meters, my heart started hurting. I reached for my medication. The moment I pulled it out, Victoria Hayes, the class president, snatched it away and threw it aside. “Only five hundred meters and you’re already faking it? Just because your mom is the assistant principal doesn’t mean you can slack off.” She glanced toward Mom in the distance and said ingratiatingly, “Ms. Carter, Aria is trying to give up again. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to encourage her to keep going.” Mom looked at me coldly, without a trace of sympathy on her face. “Everyone else can run. Why can’t you? Are you just being a drama queen? Today, you’re going to finish this fifteen hundred meters even if you have to crawl!” I gritted my teeth and kept going, but my chest felt like it was exploding. My vision gradually darkened. At one thousand meters, I collapsed on the track. I couldn’t get up anymore. My soul slowly rose into the air as I looked at Mom with guilt written all over my face. I’m sorry. I’ve disappointed you again. This time, I really can’t finish the fifteen hundred meters.

My heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest. My legs gave out and I fell flat on the ground. Victoria stopped beside me and kicked me with her foot. “Stop lying there. You’re dragging down the whole class!” Seeing that I didn’t move, she grabbed my upper body and pulled me up, then let go. My forehead hit the track with a dull thud. I knew it must hurt, but I couldn’t feel it anymore. After all, compared to the tearing sensation in my chest, this pain was nothing. “Who do you think you are, some delicate princess? Stop acting weak. It’s just fifteen hundred meters. Ms. Carter is watching right over there. Get up now!” A few classmates passing by stopped and glanced at me. “I heard she has a heart condition. Could she actually be dying?” “How is that possible? Ms. Carter is her own mother. If she really had health problems, would she let her run?” “Besides, if she were actually dying, would her mom have that expression? She looks like she wants to kill someone, not like she’s worried about her daughter.” They laughed mockingly and their footsteps gradually faded away. They say that when you die, hearing is the last sense to go. I floated in mid-air and looked up anxiously toward Mom. She was frowning, looking at me with disappointment and disgust. I instinctively lowered my head and murmured to myself. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve disappointed you again. Mom walked over from the other end of the track and stopped about ten feet away from my body. “Aria! Stop faking it. I just saw your arm move. Get up right now.” I still didn’t move. Victoria came over and said quietly, “Ms. Carter, maybe Aria is angry? She’s so stubborn. How about we just forget about this fitness test?” I stood nearby, shaking my head desperately. Mom, how could I be angry? I just don’t have any strength left. I really just want to rest for a moment. Just one moment. But Mom couldn’t hear me. Seeing that I remained motionless, her expression grew darker. She walked up to me and kicked me hard in the stomach. My body swayed with the force of her kick, like a useless bag of garbage. “Get up right now! How long are you planning to lie here?”

I lay on the ground without moving, as if deliberately defying her. She trembled with rage, her face flushed red. “Aria, you’ve really outdone yourself. To avoid this fitness test, you’re actually playing dead with me?” “You’re disgusting. Just as disgusting as your father!” My heart clenched painfully. I sobbed once in grief. I raised my hand to wipe away tears, only to find my face was dry. So dead people can’t cry. Mom raised me alone. From the time I could remember, Mom repeatedly told me that Dad had betrayed their relationship and betrayed our family. Mom put all her energy into me. She knew my heart wasn’t good, so every morning she would get up early to run with me, doing adaptive training. But when I started high school, everything changed. Mom was a teacher at this school. She said she wasn’t just my mother, but also everyone else’s teacher, and she had to treat all students equally. To avoid suspicion, she gave the first-place chemistry competition award that should have been mine to second-place Victoria. To avoid suspicion, she forced me—someone with a medical exemption—to stand on the starting line for the fifteen hundred meter run. And now, she was saying I was like that man she’d hated her entire life. But Mom, I really wasn’t playing dead. I just couldn’t hold on anymore. Victoria bent down and grabbed my arm. “Aria, get up first. You’ve already run one thousand meters. Just hold on a little longer and you’ll be done.” She pulled hard on my arm. Maybe I was too heavy. She couldn’t pull me up and instead stumbled backward a few steps before falling on her butt. My body, half-lifted, fell heavily back to the ground. Another dull thud. Victoria froze, her eyes suddenly reddening. “Aria, there’s no need to take your anger out on me. I didn’t offend you. Why did you have to push me?” “Besides, Ms. Carter is doing this for your own good! Why can’t you appreciate her intentions?” She sniffled, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t know how much I envy you for having a mom like this.” Mom walked over, pulled Victoria to her side, and comfortingly patted her back. “It’s okay now. Don’t cry.” Then she turned to me, her gaze sweeping over my body. “Aria, is this how determined you are to defy me?” “Since you want to play dead, I’ll beat you awake today and see how long you can keep this up!” She reached down and grabbed my hair, slamming my head hard against the track. Once, twice, three times… Blood seeped out, spreading across the track. I floated nearby, watching her grab my hair and slam my head down again and again. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. I remembered that Mom used to be so good to me. When I was little and accidentally scraped my skin, Mom would frantically find iodine and carefully clean my wound. Then she’d gently comfort me, “Aria, don’t be scared. It’ll get better soon.” But now, all the disgust and anger on her face poured out with each violent impact. As if the person lying on the ground wasn’t the daughter she’d carried for ten months, but an eyesore and a burden. More and more students gathered around to watch. “She’s definitely faking it. If she really felt bad, would Ms. Carter be this angry?” “She’s taking advantage of having a teacher for a mom, trying to get special treatment. Now she’s getting what she deserves.” “It’s just fifteen hundred meters. Is playing dead really necessary? So dramatic.” More and more students crowded around. Mr. Parker, the head of discipline, also appeared. Mr. Parker immediately told Mom to stop. “Ms. Carter, how can you hit a student?” Mom finally stopped and sighed lightly. “Mr. Parker, this is my daughter. She’s playing dead to avoid the fitness test.” “Spare the rod and spoil the child. Today I have to teach her a proper lesson!”

Mr. Parker saw the crowd of students and coughed lightly. “Ms. Carter, so many students are watching. Even when disciplining children, you need to use appropriate methods. Leave her some dignity.” With that, he turned and left. Mom looked down at me. “Still not getting up?” “Fine. You can lie there all you want. No one’s going to care about you!” She took a deep breath, suppressing the anger churning inside her. “Continue the fitness test. Don’t let one person hold up the entire class.” The sound of footsteps gradually faded. The murmuring voices also disappeared. No one looked at me on the track anymore. The sun grew stronger and stronger, beating down directly on my body. I still lay there lifelessly, the blood on my forehead gradually drying. Half an hour passed. The fitness test was completely over. Some students glanced my way, their eyes showing some reluctance. “Aria’s health isn’t good. Nothing really happened to her, right?” Victoria pursed her lips. “She’s totally faking it. Didn’t you see how angry Ms. Carter was?” “And she’s still lying on the ground playing dead.” Her close friends chimed in quietly, “Aria’s just been spoiled rotten. Taking advantage of her mom being assistant principal, she always steals the spotlight, and now she’s faking illness to drag down the whole class.” “Exactly. Does she really think she owns the school?” Victoria listened to these words, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. Then she turned and walked toward Mom. She lowered her voice and said quietly to Mom, “Ms. Carter, just now some students wanted to help Aria up, but Aria said…” She paused, hesitant to continue. Mom frowned. “Said what?” “She said… she won’t get up unless you apologize to her.” Mom’s expression instantly darkened. “Ms. Carter, Aria has been lying there for a long time. If this continues, something will definitely happen. How about… you just apologize to her? It’s just one sentence. Get her up first, then deal with it.” The plastic water bottle in Mom’s hand deformed slightly from her grip. She clenched her back teeth, her voice filled with endless fury. “Who does she think she is? Wanting me to apologize to her? Completely useless!” “She’s taking advantage of the fact that I’m her mother to be this brazen!” “If she’s got guts, she can lie on the track all day!”

The few students who had been worried about me heard Mom’s words and simply turned away. No one looked at me anymore. The sky suddenly darkened. The glaring sunlight from moments ago was swallowed by thick, heavy clouds. It started to rain. Large raindrops pelted my face. The rain mixed with the dried blood on my forehead, flowing down my cheeks and into my mouth. Students on the track scattered, running toward the school building. As Mom passed by me, she said, “Get up soon. When you’ve figured it out, come to my office.” Then she turned and left too. In less than three minutes, there was no one left on the track except me. I lay there as rain poured into my ears, into my nose, into my mouth. My clothes were soaked through, clinging to my body, ice-cold and bone-chilling. But I couldn’t feel it anymore. My soul floated up and followed the students to the school building. Mr. Parker hurried into the office. “Ms. Carter, isn’t your daughter still on the track? It’s raining. Stop being angry and get her back inside. Don’t let her catch a cold.” Mom sat at her desk without looking up. “She’s clever enough. How could she let herself get hurt?” “She’s deliberately throwing a tantrum with me, waiting for me to apologize and personally invite her back.” Mr. Parker opened his mouth, finally sighed, and turned to leave. Half an hour later, someone knocked on the door. Mom relaxed for a moment, but when she saw who came in, she felt vaguely disappointed. Victoria and a few other students came in with some practice problems for Mom to explain. Mom showed no impatience. She patiently explained over and over until everyone nodded in understanding. I stood nearby watching her. She used to explain things to me patiently like this too. The office door suddenly sounded. Mom froze for a moment, then relaxed and leaned back in her chair. Victoria smiled. “Ms. Carter, it must be Aria coming to apologize to you.” The corners of Mom’s mouth turned up slightly, then quickly pressed down again as she put on a mocking expression. “Just now she was lying on the ground playing dead, and one rain shower washes away your backbone?” “Aria, if you know you were wrong, shout ‘I was wrong’ three times, then go apologize to everyone in class and say you dragged down the entire class!” The knocking continued. Mom frowned and got up to open the door. When she saw who was outside, Mom was shocked. “Mr. Hawkins, why are you here?” The principal’s face was grim. He asked, “Your class had the fitness test last period, right? That girl who collapsed on the track—is she from your class?” The panic in Mom’s heart was instantly replaced by disdain. She scoffed lightly and waved her hand. ” Mr. Hawkins, don’t worry. That’s just my daughter Aria. This child has been spoiled since she was young. She’s so stubborn. She’s faking a collapse to avoid the fitness test and throwing a tantrum with me.” “Don’t worry about her. When she’s done making a scene, she’ll get up on her own.” The principal’s expression grew even worse. He was about to speak when the school nurse rushed over. “Mr. Hawkins, this is bad. The girl on the track isn’t breathing.”

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For ten years, I was Adrian’s ghostwriter, crafting his path to literary stardom. When our daughter needed fifty thousand dollars for emergency heart surgery, he’d just won a million-dollar prize—but wouldn’t spare a dime. He snapped at me over the phone: “Rachel’s son has a cold and I can’t leave! All you ever do is ask for money!” I hung up, sold our house, and got my daughter the surgery. Three months later, Adrian threw a celebration party at a hotel. Glass in hand, basking in glory, he spotted me in the crowd. I wore a server’s uniform, carrying a tray, bowing with a smile. My daughter, cradled in my arms, lifted her pale little face and asked politely, “Sir, could I have some orange juice?” Hearing our daughter call him “sir” instead of “daddy,” his smile froze instantly. “Fiona, what the hell are you doing here?” He lowered his voice, each word forced through gritted teeth, humiliated at being confronted publicly. I ignored him, adjusted my server badge marked “07,” then knelt down to look tenderly at my daughter. “Lily, would you like some orange juice? Mommy will get you some.” “Okay.” Lily nodded obediently, her small hand clutching my sleeve. She’d just recovered from heart surgery. Her body was still weak, her little face so pale it was almost translucent—heartbreaking to see. I stood up with her in my arms, ready to leave. Adrian grabbed my wrist, his grip nearly crushing my bones. “Stop! I’m talking to you!” The woman beside him—renowned editor Rachel—immediately stepped forward, elegantly tugging his sleeve. “Adrian, calm down.” Her voice was soft and soothing. Then she turned to me, her eyes displaying perfectly calibrated pity. “Fiona, I know you might be going through difficulties, but do you understand what occasion this is? Making a scene like this helps no one.” With one sentence, she painted me as a hysterical woman desperate for money. The guests around us—literary elites and media reporters—turned their gazes toward us like spectators at a show. Adrian’s face darkened like a thundercloud. He felt I’d humiliated him beyond measure. I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Mr. Walker, do we even know each other?” He froze. I pulled my aching wrist from his grip and pointed to Lily in my arms, my voice not loud but carrying clearly to every corner. “My daughter wanted some orange juice, but she doesn’t know you, so she called you ‘sir.’ What, Mr. Walker doesn’t understand basic courtesy and has to yell at a child?” Lily seemed frightened by the tense atmosphere. She shrank into my arms and whispered, “Mommy, I don’t want it anymore. Let’s go home.” My heart clenched painfully. I kissed her forehead. “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Mommy’s here.” Adrian’s gaze finally fell on Lily. He looked at her pale little face, at the faint outline of surgical scars visible beneath her clothing, and his body visibly stiffened. “Her… her condition…” “The surgery was successful.” I smiled, but my words cut like knives. “After all, I sold our only house and finally scraped together the fifty thousand for the surgery.” “You sold the house?!” Adrian’s voice shot up, his eyes full of disbelief. That house had been bought outright by my parents as our wedding home. Rachel’s expression changed. She quickly grabbed Adrian’s arm, her voice carrying a hint of warning. “Adrian, calm down! Don’t forget what today is!” Adrian seemed to wake from a dream. He looked around and realized everyone was watching him with probing eyes. He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his emotions, and pulled out his wallet. He extracted a card and held it out to me. “There’s a hundred thousand in here. Password’s your birthday. Take it and stop making a scene, okay?” His tone was like he was dismissing a beggar. I laughed. Laughed until tears nearly came. I didn’t take the card. Instead, my gaze dropped to Rachel’s wrist. There, a gleaming Patek Philippe ladies’ watch sparkled. “Miss Carter, that’s a beautiful watch,” I said softly. Rachel instinctively pulled back her hand, then displayed it openly with a smile. “Fiona has good taste. Adrian gave it to me as a gift.” “A gift?” I nodded, my smile deepening. “The Golden Pen Literary Award prize was one million dollars. After taxes, exactly eight hundred thousand. Miss Carter’s watch, if I’m not mistaken, is a limited edition that retails for exactly eight hundred thousand. Mr. Walker is so generous—using his daughter’s life-saving money to buy his mistress a watch.” Boom. The entire ballroom felt like a bomb had been dropped. Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop. Every eye shifted from me to that eight-hundred-thousand-dollar watch on Rachel’s wrist. Rachel’s face drained of all color instantly. “You… you’re lying! I bought this watch myself!” she shrieked, her voice distorted by guilt. Adrian was completely dumbfounded. He stared at Rachel’s wrist, then at me, his eyes filled with confusion and shock. “Rachel, what the hell is going on?” “Adrian, don’t listen to her nonsense! She’s just jealous and trying to sabotage us!” Rachel was so agitated that tears streamed down her face. She grabbed his arm, shaking desperately. “That prize money—I… I was saving it for you! I didn’t touch it!” “Is that so?” I laughed coldly, picking up a glass of red wine from a server’s tray and walking toward her. “Miss Carter, why so agitated? If you really bought it yourself, you shouldn’t mind me helping you verify its authenticity, right?” Without waiting for her response, I raised my hand and poured the entire glass of red wine over that eight-hundred-thousand-dollar watch. “Ahh—!” Rachel let out a piercing scream. The surrounding guests gasped in shock. “Fiona, you’re insane!” Adrian roared, rushing forward and shoving me aside. I lost my balance. Holding Lily, I staggered backward several steps and slammed into the table behind me, sharp pain shooting through my lower back. Lily burst into tears, terrified. I ignored my own pain, holding my daughter tight and soothing her gently. Meanwhile, Rachel was nearly hysterical with distress. She grabbed napkins, frantically wiping the watch, shouting incoherently, “My watch! My watch! This cost eight hundred thousand!” Only after she’d said it did she realize her words. She clapped her hand over her mouth, staring at Adrian in horror. Too late. Everyone had heard. Adrian’s face went from iron-gray to deathly pale to ashen. He stood frozen like a weathered statue, looking at Rachel, then at me. That look in his eyes—as if he were staring at his mortal enemy. I held Lily, who’d stopped crying but was still sobbing quietly, and walked past him without a second glance. At the door, I removed the server’s uniform and handed it to the manager who’d rushed over. “Sorry, I quit. Also, please tell Mr. Walker something for me.” I paused, turned back, meeting those bloodshot eyes of his, and said clearly, word by word: “Adrian, let’s get divorced.”

I didn’t give him time to react. Holding Lily, I disappeared from the hotel entrance. Back at the cramped, run-down apartment we were renting, I discovered a large bruise on my lower back from the collision. After bathing Lily and getting her to sleep, I sat at the creaking old desk and opened my laptop. I logged into a pen name account I’d abandoned ten years ago—”Lynn”. On the screen appeared a Reddit post from ten years ago: [Hello everyone, I’m Lynn. Starting today, I’m going to write a very, very long story.] Back then, I was spirited and ambitious, believing the future held infinite possibilities. Then I met Adrian. I fell in love with him, abandoned my pen name, and became the invisible shadow behind his spotlight. Now, it was time for “Lynn” to see daylight again. I spent the entire night organizing everything: all the manuscripts I’d ghostwritten for Adrian over the past decade, creative outlines, email correspondence, even recordings of our plot discussions—all sorted, categorized, encrypted, and packaged. These would be my sharpest weapons to bring him down. At dawn, my phone started vibrating frantically. Adrian. I didn’t answer. He persisted relentlessly—calls, texts, SnapChat voice messages, a bombardment of communication. Annoyed, I blocked him completely. Before long, knocking sounded at the door. I opened it to find Adrian’s haggard face. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes, stubble covered his jaw, his designer suit was wrinkled—not a trace remained of the literary giant’s elegance. “Fiona.” His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper. “Let’s talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” I blocked the doorway, staring at him coldly. “Where’s Lily? How is she?” He tried desperately to see inside. “She’s sleeping. Keep your voice down.” “Fiona, I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong.” He suddenly grabbed my hand, his eyes frighteningly red. “What happened last night was my fault. I shouldn’t have refused you money. I shouldn’t have let Rachel—” “So what?” I interrupted. “Are you here to apologize or to beg me not to divorce you?” He froze, seemingly unprepared for my directness. “I… I never wanted a divorce.” He lowered his head, defeat in his voice. “Fiona, after all these years together…” “Together?” I laughed as if I’d heard the world’s funniest joke. “Adrian, you want to talk to me about our relationship? Last year on Lily’s birthday, she had a 104-degree fever, crying for daddy. I called you over a dozen times—you turned off your phone. Later I found out you were in Switzerland skiing with Rachel and her son. This year when Lily was diagnosed with heart disease and the doctor said she needed immediate surgery, I begged you on my knees to give me the prize money to save her life. What did you say?” I mimicked his cold tone from that phone call: “‘Fiona, can you stop being so selfish? Mason has a cold and needs care! Lily’s surgery can wait—it’s not like she’ll die immediately!’” Each word was like a rusty blade, twisting repeatedly in my heart. Adrian’s face turned white as paper. He opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a single word. “Adrian, in your heart, my daughter’s life is worth less than your mistress’s son’s cold. Do you really think this marriage has any reason to continue?” I watched his devastated expression. My heart felt no satisfaction—only barren emptiness. “So save your speech. I don’t have time for this today.” I tried to pull my hand away and close the door. But he suddenly blocked it with his body and pulled out a crumpled paper from his pocket. A divorce agreement. “Fiona, look at this.” He unfolded it and held it before me. “I’ll sign it. I agree to divorce. The house, the car, all the assets under my name—I’ll give them all to you and Lily. I have only one condition.” He raised his head, looking at me with almost pleading eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about the ghostwriting. Please. I’m begging you.” I looked at him, at this agreement he’d drafted overnight, and suddenly felt utterly ironic. He still didn’t understand. He thought I was doing all this for money. “Adrian.” I took the agreement and, before his eyes, tore it to shreds, inch by inch. In his shocked gaze, I told him clearly: “Too late. I’ll get the money back, every cent. But not this way.” “What… what do you mean?” An ominous premonition rose in him. I smiled slightly and turned my phone screen toward him. On it was a Reddit post I’d just published under the “Lynn” account. [@Everyone, I’m the real author of “Return on a Snowy Night,” “River at Sunset,” and other books—Lynn. Tomorrow at 10 AM, I’m holding a press conference to present all evidence of ghostwriting.@Adrian Walker @Golden Pen Literary Award @Dolphin Publishing] The moment Adrian saw that post, his face lost all color completely.

“You’re insane! Fiona, you’ve lost your mind!” Adrian lunged like a cornered beast, roaring as he tried to grab my phone. I’d anticipated this. I stepped back and slammed the door shut with a bang, locking him outside. “Fiona! Open the door! Delete that post! Do you hear me!” He pounded frantically on the door, shouting, drawing neighbors who poked their heads out curiously. I ignored him, quickly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed, woke Lily, and slipped out through the fire escape. I’d known he’d come, so I’d booked a hotel in advance. After settling Lily, I contacted Julian Smith, the country’s top rights protection attorney, and several media outlets known for in-depth investigative reporting. Julian’s team was extremely efficient. We met that afternoon. After carefully verifying all the evidence I’d provided, Julian pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and gave me a definitive answer. “Ms. Monroe, rest assured. This case is a guaranteed win. Not only can we recover all the royalties and compensation you’re owed, but we’ll make Adrian and the publishing house pay a devastating price.” Looking at this calm, professional, powerful man before me, my anxious heart finally settled. That evening, the internet exploded. “Adrian Walker Ghostwriting Scandal” surged to the top of trending topics with unstoppable force, followed by a deep red “EXPLOSIVE” tag. Countless readers, fans, and onlookers flooded my Reddit. The comment section was absolute chaos. Some accused me of chasing clout, desperate for fame. [This is ridiculous. Adrian needs a ghostwriter? His talent is universally recognized!] [Another D-list nobody trying to climb up by stepping on a celebrity. Case closed.] [Screenshot saved. Waiting for Adrian’s legal team to destroy her.] But some rational longtime readers detected something in my writing style. [Wait… this “Lynn” person’s writing style seems so similar to Adrian’s early work. I remember Adrian became famous with “Return on a Snowy Night,” but his later books always felt like something was missing.] [I thought so too! Especially his recent book “A Dream of Life”—it felt so hollow, completely lacking his earlier brilliance.] [The more I think about it, the scarier it gets… If the ghostwriting is real, what have we been fans of all these years?] Public opinion split into two camps, arguing explosively. Adrian and the publishing house responded quickly. They jointly issued a strongly-worded statement, calling this baseless slander and defamation against me personally, and stating they would reserve the right to pursue legal action. Rachel was the first to share the statement, adding: [Truth will prevail. I believe in Adrian’s character and talent. Don’t let yourselves be deceived by people with ulterior motives.] Her “righteous stand” won her considerable praise and successfully redirected attacks toward me. [Rachel’s right! We believe in Adrian!] [This Fiona person is Adrian’s ex-wife, right? Getting revenge after divorce by throwing mud—how vicious!] [Probably didn’t get money in the divorce settlement, so now she’s bitter and wants to destroy Adrian.] Reading these comments, I just smiled. Let them have their last night of denial. After tomorrow, they’d know what it meant to fall from the clouds into hell.

The press conference was scheduled at a five-star hotel ballroom. When I arrived, the venue was packed with media from everywhere. Cameras and flashing lights created a blinding sea of illumination. Adrian, Rachel, and the publishing house president, Derek Ford, sat prominently in the front row. They’d clearly come prepared, cold smirks on their faces as if attending my public trial. Adrian had even brought his “hardcore fans”—dozens of people holding banners reading “Support Adrian, Resist Slander,” protesting outside the venue. I wore a crisp white suit, professionally made up, and walked calmly to the podium accompanied by attorney Julian. Camera flashes intensified instantly. Reporters swarmed like sharks smelling blood, thrusting microphones desperately toward me. “Ms. Monroe, you claim to be Adrian’s ghostwriter. What evidence do you have?” “Is this action revenge because of unequal divorce settlement distribution?” “Is there really conflict between you and Ms. Carter?” I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I signaled for quiet. Once the venue settled somewhat, I picked up the microphone and spoke slowly, looking directly at Adrian in the audience. “Media friends, hello. I know you’re all full of questions today. So we won’t waste words—let’s go straight to the evidence.” The large screen behind me lit up. The first piece of evidence was the handwritten manuscript of “Return on a Snowy Night.” That familiar handwriting, yellowed paper, densely marked revisions—Adrian’s expression changed instantly. “These… these are just discarded drafts! They don’t prove anything!” Derek Ford shouted with forced composure, his obese body trembling with tension. “Is that so?” I smiled slightly and pressed the remote. A video began playing on the screen. It showed Adrian and me from five years ago. We were in the study, heatedly discussing the ending of “River at Sunset.” “No! The protagonist must die! Only tragedy can elevate this story!” Video-me was emotionally intense. “But Fiona, readers want a happy ending. Written this way, the book won’t sell.” Video-Adrian frowned deeply. “I don’t care! This is my work. I must preserve its integrity!” … This video clearly recorded our creative disputes and clearly proved I was the one with final decision-making authority. Adrian’s face had lost all color. Rachel beside him also widened her eyes, as if seeing me for the first time. “This… this is fabricated! It’s fake!” Rachel shrieked. “Fake?” My attorney Julian stood up, his voice steady and powerful. “Ms. Carter, we’ve had this video authenticated by the country’s most authoritative forensic institution. We can guarantee its authenticity. If you continue publicly defaming my client, we have the right to sue you for libel.” Julian’s response left Rachel speechless. She could only glare at me hatefully. I ignored her and presented the third piece of evidence. All email correspondence between Adrian and me over the past decade. Every book outline, every chapter manuscript—I’d sent them all to him via email. The emails also contained his various “guidance” on my drafts. For example: “Fiona, this plot drags too much. Can you make it more exciting?” “This female supporting character’s personality is unlikable. Readers won’t like her. Change it.” “The ending must be happy. Otherwise fans will riot.” These emails thoroughly exposed his complete literary ignorance combined with his love of giving orders. The venue erupted. Camera flashes targeted ashen-faced Adrian relentlessly. “Mr. Walker, what’s your explanation?” “Did you really have your ex-wife ghostwrite for you for ten years?” “Has your public persona completely collapsed?” Reporters surrounded Adrian. He was cornered, unable to speak a single word. Derek Ford, seeing things going badly, tried to pull Adrian away, but reporters blocked them completely. And I released the final, most devastating strike. An audio recording. Adrian’s voice, slightly drunk and boastful. “What bullshit talent? I can’t write a single word. But my wife loves me. I tell her how to write, and she has to write it. Readers actually think I’m some literary giant—it’s hilarious. They’re just a bunch of idiots I’ve been playing all along.” This recording was from years ago, when he’d gotten drunk and bragged to his buddies. I’d captured it accidentally. At the time, I’d thought it was just drunken rambling. I never imagined it would be useful today. When the recording finished, the entire venue fell silent. Even the fans protesting outside went quiet. Everyone looked at Adrian like they were looking at garbage. Adrian completely broke down. He collapsed in his chair, pale as death, muttering repeatedly, “It’s over… all over…” Just then, an unexpected person stood up. An experienced senior editor from the publishing house, Mr. Lee. He walked tremblingly to the podium, picked up another microphone, his voice filled with grief and anger. “I… I can testify. Everything Fiona said is true. All these years, the manuscripts Adrian submitted were full of typos and illogical. Our editorial department worked overnight to fix them. We all knew the real author was Fiona, but Derek Ford suppressed us for money, wouldn’t let us speak… I… I’m sorry to Fiona, and even more sorry to all readers everywhere!” After speaking, he bowed deeply to all the cameras. This bow became the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Derek Ford’s eyes rolled back and he fainted. Rachel screamed and tried to run but was surrounded by angry reporters and readers. And Adrian, under endless camera flashes and interrogation, was completely nailed to the pillar of shame like a stray dog.

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My husband Anderson’s mistress Rachel waited for him for eight years, but he kept putting off divorcing me. Rachel finally couldn’t take it anymore. She hastily found a boyfriend and declared she was getting married. When Anderson found out, he drank himself into a gastric hemorrhage at a bar. Grabbing my hand, he said: “I’ve wronged Rachel.” Rachel deliberately chose my and Anderson’s wedding anniversary to get married. She wanted to show me that she wasn’t the loser in this fight. And I’d been waiting a long time for this day too. I sent the video of her and Anderson’s intimate moments to her future husband. Then I asked Anderson for a divorce. This was our eighth wedding anniversary. He and Rachel had been entangled for eight years too. I was thirty-five this year. Rachel was thirty now. Neither of us was young anymore. I no longer shared daily observations with Anderson, didn’t get jealous, didn’t check up on him. I’d become exactly what he wanted to see. But Anderson fell more and more in love with me, even planning out where we’d be buried together after death. On our eighth anniversary, I prepared a table full of dishes. I called Anderson, but he didn’t pick up. I stubbornly called again and again. I had my eye on a large penthouse in the city center. On such a special day, it would be easiest to persuade Anderson to pay for it. Usually I didn’t care where he was living it up, but today he had to show up. “Alice, Anderson’s in the hospital with a gastric hemorrhage. Get here quick!” On the phone was Anderson’s friend Bob’s anxious voice. I calmly finished the dinner I’d prepared and replied, “Okay.” On the way, I received a message from Rachel. [See? Even though I’m getting married, he still thinks about me. I deliberately ruined your anniversary] [If I’m miserable, you should be too] [You used your dead child to morally blackmail Anderson, forcing him back to the family. You should have expected this day. When you wake up at midnight, do you ever think of that poor child?] I closed my eyes as my heart clenched painfully. Soon, I’d be able to avenge my child.

When I arrived, Bob accused me of taking too long. “But you’re here, aren’t you?” “I’m not a doctor. What did you expect me to do?” Bob said disappointedly, “You’re Anderson’s wife. How can you be so indifferent? If I’d known…” He suddenly stopped. I gave a cold laugh and finished his sentence for him. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have persuaded Anderson to return to his family. Now he’d still have someone who knows when he’s cold or warm.” I’d heard this from Bob too many times. He was the one who urged Anderson to cut ties with Rachel and return to the family. He was also the one who now thought my care didn’t measure up to Rachel’s. From initial relief to repeatedly complaining about me to Anderson. Fortunately, I no longer cared about Anderson’s friends’ attitudes like before. They could say whatever they wanted. Anderson probably thought the same way. So every time Bob spoke up, he never stopped him, just looked at me with complicated eyes. Anderson wanted me to know what he’d given up for me. Everyone knew Rachel was the one he truly loved. I was the villain who interfered, possessing him but not knowing gratitude. “Get out. This is between Alice and me.” Anderson slowly woke up. Bob, disappointed in him, wanted to say more but froze at Anderson’s next words. “Rachel, I regret it. Don’t leave me. Don’t marry another man.” Anderson drunkenly grabbed my sleeve. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch you have children with another man…” This was the first time Anderson cried like this in front of me. His suppressed sobs were like a broken old violin. Only intermittent, trembling muffled sounds remained, stuck in his throat, unable to come out. He’d mistaken me for Rachel. When Anderson was still with Rachel, people around them often called Rachel “Mrs. Anderson.” After he returned to the family, I never heard it mentioned again. Apparently to avoid touching a sore spot. Bob looked at me with pity. “Are you satisfied now?” “Using your dead child to tie Anderson to your side, now neither of you is happy. Is this the life you wanted?” I smiled politely. “Yes, this is what I wanted. Seeing them both unhappy makes me satisfied.” “You should have died on that hospital bed with that child!” Bob left in anger. Only Anderson and I remained in the room. Anderson gripped me tightly. Following this position, I sat on the edge of his bed and slapped him hard across the face. “Are you sober now?” They all wanted me dead. I was determined to live well, better than all of them. Anderson’s face swelled red. “Alice, how did I end up in the hospital?” “Rachel’s getting married. You were upset, drank with Bob, and ended up here with a gastric hemorrhage.” I pulled out my phone and played his drunken words, including how Bob had provoked me. “You still can’t forget her.” Anderson’s face went pale. “Why don’t you care about my health anymore?” “Before when I was sick, even in pouring rain, you insisted on carrying me to the hospital. You rubbed your heels bloody.” I didn’t expect that would be his first thought. That was long ago, back when Rachel hadn’t yet interfered in our relationship. “That’s why I was so stupid back then. If I couldn’t get a cab, I should have just waited longer like today. Why suffer so much?” Anderson bowed his head guiltily. “I really don’t like her anymore. Tonight I just remembered the past and felt a bit melancholy.” “I didn’t know Bob was talking about you like that behind your back. I won’t associate with him anymore.” I interrupted his next words. “Sign this purchase contract.” “You’ve already wronged me emotionally. You can’t shortchange me financially too.” Anderson took the paper and pen as if it were routine, pausing slightly as he signed, the pen pressing hard through the paper. “Is this all we talk about now?” Since he returned to the family, I said nothing but quietly moved my things to the guest bedroom. His study was full of gifts from Rachel too. I never asked about it. We were like strangers living under the same roof, staying out of each other’s way. I only showed him a pleasant face when I needed him to spend money. “Why won’t you forgive me after everything I’ve done? What do I have to do for you to be like before?” I nodded. “If you can hear that on our anniversary, I drank myself into the hospital because my mistress got married, and you can stay as calm as I am, then I’ll forgive you.” “…I’m sorry.” I looked with satisfaction at the signature on the contract, unable to say “it’s okay.” Anderson pushed his luck, placing his hand on mine, his eyes pleading. “Let’s have a child too. Bob’s wife already had their second.” I gave a mocking laugh. Why bring it up now of all times? It was only because Rachel was going to have children with another man that he wanted a child. I brushed off his hand. “Forget it.” “I can’t be as heartless as you. You may not remember, but I’ll never forget that child. No matter how many children we have, none will be him.” “And I could never give you children. If you want children…” “No more children. Just the two of us is fine. We’ll always be together.” Anderson panicked and held me, as if afraid I’d leave.

Anderson was unusually restless tonight. Instead of staying in the hospital properly, he insisted on following me home. I knew tomorrow was Rachel’s wedding day. He was afraid I’d cause a scene, so he stayed by my side to monitor me. Even though he didn’t want Rachel marrying another man, he wanted her to find happiness. He was always so good to Rachel. When we got home and saw the clean dining table, Anderson froze. “Alice, today’s our anniversary. Where’s the food you made?” I looked annoyed. “Who told you to drink yourself into the hospital? You weren’t going to eat it anyway, so I fed it to stray dogs.” Anderson stared at the table in long silence. Exhausted from the day, I went to shower, too lazy to guess what he meant. Anderson used to travel for work, eating irregularly, which caused his stomach problems. After that, I started cooking, bringing every meal to his office to watch him eat. Later, for Rachel’s sake, he stood me up again and again. I reheated the food countless times until it was unrecognizable. When Anderson came home and saw the cold food on the table, he only had one word: sorry, he’d already eaten out. I dumped the food in the trash. After that, I never saved meals for Anderson again. But Anderson only noticed now. When I came out of the shower, Anderson was waiting by the door with a glass of warm water. “We’re husband and wife. We can’t keep sleeping in separate rooms.” “No thanks, I don’t want it.” “You used to drink warm water every time you finished showering. I measured it to your preferred temperature.” “This cup is the matching couple’s set you bought with Rachel.” I looked directly at Anderson. “When I accidentally broke your cup, Rachel was furious. You didn’t come home for a month. I lost twenty pounds. When you came back, you demanded to know if I understood my mistake.” “This is the second one she bought. You specifically told me never to touch it, never to damage Rachel’s thoughtful gift.” Anderson froze slightly, hastily putting it down. “I forgot.” He looked at me hesitantly. “What do you want to say?” “Are you going to see the house tomorrow?” Seeing me nod, he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m free tomorrow. I’ll go with you.” I snorted inwardly. To ensure I didn’t make a scene at Rachel’s wedding, Anderson was really putting in effort. “Fine.” Anderson seemed very excited. I don’t know if it was Bob’s words from earlier, but I kept dreaming about the miscarried child that night. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Just as I was about to get up for some air, a pair of warm hands wrapped around my waist from behind. I smelled alcohol and broke out in goosebumps, instantly jumping up. “Anderson, how shameless are you? Rachel’s getting married and you don’t want to stay faithful to her, so you come touch me?” The anger I’d suppressed erupted, disgust showing on my face despite myself. Anderson flinched at my expression. “I just thought we should move to the next stage.” “Time to turn the page.” I smiled. “Fine.” Before Anderson could feel happy, I opened my phone, scrolled a few times, and pointed the lit screen at him. “How many children do you want? We can go adopt tomorrow.” The photos showed blind, deaf, and deformed orphans. “Infidelity, emotional abuse, shirking responsibility.” “I’m afraid children in our home would pick up bad habits. Only children who can’t see or hear would stay in our house.” Anderson fell silent. “Get lost. Don’t disgust me.” I pushed him out the door and locked it.

The next day, he wore the suit I’d bought him years ago, looking at me hopefully. “Does it look good?” Actually, it didn’t. After all these years, no matter how carefully preserved, the clothes had faded and wrinkled, looking cheap and lower quality than the suits he wore now. But I still insincerely praised it as “nice.” Anderson, delighted, transferred another ten million to me. “Those days were so hard, but we got through them. From now on, we’ll have better and better lives, right honey?” After getting the money, I shook my head. Anderson pretended not to notice. I was very satisfied with the house. One apartment per floor, in a core location, with two subway lines below and a huge shopping mall within a kilometer. The saleswoman followed behind me, smiling from ear to ear the whole time. Anderson was distracted, frequently checking his phone. I didn’t care where his mind was, as long as he paid. But in the time it took me to use the restroom, Anderson disappeared. There was only one message on my phone. [She insists on waiting for me before going on stage. I’m afraid she’ll pester me after marriage. This is the last time, I’ll be back in half an hour. Wait for me] The saleswoman looked at me awkwardly. “Ma’am, who’s paying?” I wouldn’t wait anymore. No one had to wait for anyone. “Charge the card.” What Anderson didn’t know was that I’d also prepared a big gift for Rachel. If he hurried, he should make it in time.

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The night before the wedding, my fiancé Damien told me about a wedding custom from his hometown. The bride must cross over a burning brazier without wearing underwear, or she would offend the gods and bring disaster. I agreed reluctantly, thinking of him. Until the wedding day, when Nina suddenly lifted my skirt and shouted with a laugh. “Everyone come look! I knew she wasn’t wearing anything underneath!” “Elara, I was just making a bet with friends about whether you’d wear underwear. You’re not mad, are you?” I was utterly humiliated and knocked the camera from her hands. But Damien immediately shielded Nina behind him, laughing without a care: “Elara, it’s April Fools’ Day. Everyone’s just joking with you.” “The astrologer said I’d have bad luck this year unless someone caused a scene at my wedding. You understand, don’t you?” I laughed bitterly. But he didn’t know that before being recognized by the billionaire Hartley family, I had gained a supernatural ability — whatever lies I told would come true. Just then, a large truck careened out of control toward Damien.

At the last second, Damien barely dodged, avoiding being crushed to a pulp. But he acted like nothing happened, reaching to put his arm around my waist. “Come on, Nina didn’t mean it. Don’t take it to heart.” I calmly stepped back twice, dodging his hand. “Don’t touch me!” “Damien, did the astrologer really say that?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Damien frowned slightly, his tone becoming a bit impatient. “Does it really matter whether it’s true or false? Why do you keep harping on this?” “Nina has depression, but you stole everything that belonged to her, causing her depression to flare up until she almost committed suicide.” “She’s never blamed you. It was just an April Fools’ joke. Do you need to get this angry?” Watching him smile as he picked up the camera and returned it to Nina, I sneered. “Depression?” “You think I’ll still believe that?” My gaze fell with interest on Nina’s young, pretty face. Her complexion was rosy, her eyes bright and alert. Where was even half a sign of depression severe enough for suicide? Damien stiffened, apparently not expecting me to be so direct, then showed just the right amount of grievance. “Elara, this is all true!” “Nina really has depression. If she gets too emotional, she’ll go into shock!” At that moment, Nina’s jealous gaze fell on my wedding dress, her face full of dissatisfaction. “Damien! Why are you explaining so much to her!” “If it weren’t for your grandfather insisting you marry the real Hartley heiress, why would you marry her?” I couldn’t help but laugh. I said nothing. No wonder when someone lifted my skirt and took embarrassing photos, Damien didn’t care, acting like nothing had happened. Then everyone who owed me, everyone who bullied me, should pay the price! I turned, meeting Damien’s gaze, and asked with a smile: “I’ll ask you one last time. Will she really go into shock?” Whether Damien was lying, I would soon know. But before he could answer, Nina beside him looked impatient, pointing at my nose and saying sarcastically: “How ridiculous! You haven’t even married into the Sinclair family yet and you’re already so paranoid! Would Damien actually lie to you?” Damien nodded, agreeing: “Nina’s right. The doctor warned her not to get emotionally excited. If her condition acts up, she might go into shock…” Before he finished speaking. “Ah —” Nina’s mocking face suddenly trembled. Nina collapsed abruptly, her face visibly turning deathly pale, her whole body convulsing. “Nina!” Damien’s eyes widened instantly, panicking. The scene became chaotic. I looked at Damien, sneering inwardly. “Today is April Fools’ Day. Maybe Nina is just messing with us. Don’t make such a fuss.” Since you deceived me first, I need not show mercy. Let your words come true!

Damien froze in his steps. “Elara, I promised I’d marry you. There’s no need to go after Nina.” I smiled gently. “Damien, you seem to have gotten something wrong. It’s not that I’m desperate to marry you.” Damien looked confused. That handsome face so close to mine looked at me with slightly trembling eyelashes, tenderness nearly overflowing from his eyes. I lifted his chin, laughing softly. “It’s the Sinclair family begging me to marry down to you, to facilitate a business alliance between the Sinclairs and Hartleys. I also hope you can be loyal, not lie to me, and not disappoint me.” Damien stayed by hospitalized Nina’s side day and night. I was happy to have the peace and quiet. However, after Nina was discharged. She completely changed from her usual arrogant demeanor, bringing cake to my door to apologize. I frowned. I didn’t need to guess to know the cake contained chocolate that would cause me to go into anaphylactic shock. I pretended everything was normal, smiling as I accepted the cake. Perfect. Let her experience the taste of her own medicine. My nose filled with the scent of chocolate. I asked, knowing full well: “Is this mango cake? I love it!” Nina paused, then smiled in agreement. “Of course! It’s definitely mango flavored!” “Hurry and try it. It tastes amazing!” I took a deep breath and cut a large piece, handing it to her first. Nina quickly took a big bite, as if proving her sincerity. Seeing me hesitate, she asked with reddened eyes: “This mango cake is delicious. Won’t Elara eat any? Are you still unwilling to forgive me?” I curved my lips slightly. Nina had nearly gone into shock from secretly eating mangoes as a child. How could she not know she was allergic to mangoes? Heaven has a road but you won’t take it. Hell has no gate but you insist on breaking in! Then I’ll play along! Before long, Nina suddenly clutched her stomach, looking like she wanted to cry but couldn’t, more like a stubborn little white flower. “Elara!” She opened her mouth trembling. “Even if you’re jealous that I’ve had parents who loved me since childhood, you can’t poison me! If I hadn’t eaten so little, I’d be dead here today!!” Damien rushed over at the sound. He held the disfigured Nina, looking at me with undisguised disgust. “Elara Hartley, don’t you know Nina is allergic to mangoes? When did you become so… vicious??” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at her mouth running off like that. She knows she’s allergic to mangoes but still eats it? Isn’t she looking for death? Maybe her depression is acting up again and she’s seeking death? Call the police quickly, don’t let her die in my house!” I scoffed, not looking at her pig-liver-colored face, leisurely pulling out my phone. Nina bit her lower lip, looking like she was making a noble sacrifice. “Don’t call the police!” Seeing me completely unharmed and even mockingly taunting her, a flash of hatred crossed her eyes. She said through gritted teeth: “Even if she’s jealous of our childhood friendship, I can’t call the police. That would ruin the Hartley family’s reputation…” Looking at the red rash on her arms and neck, Damien frowned slightly, his gaze falling on the cake on the table. “Nina is still being generous, but didn’t you buy a chocolate cake?” Hearing this, I quickly stopped Damien from taking Nina to the hospital, pretending to be shocked. “What chocolate?” “She clearly said it was mango cake!” “Damien, don’t you know I’m severely allergic to chocolate?” Damien coughed lightly, explaining helplessly: “Elara, you can’t blame this all on Nina! She didn’t know you were allergic to chocolate.” “Besides, you’re fine. Nothing happened…” “Damien.” I looked up into his eyes. “Are you blind?” “She lifted my skirt to humiliate me, and now she sends me chocolate cake to make me go into shock!” “Damien, my patience has limits too.” Damien said nothing. The atmosphere instantly returned to silence. I was too lazy to figure out his true feelings. After all, it was Damien who would marry only me, not that I could only marry him. Watching Damien drive away with Nina, I gently swirled the wine glass in my hand. I wondered if they’d still be able to smile after going to the hospital. I took a hot shower and turned off my phone to avoid being bombarded with calls. Just as I drifted into sleep, the bedside lamp suddenly blazed on. Then, a man’s roar woke me up. Damien gripped his phone tightly, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been calling until I nearly broke my phone! And you’re still in the mood to sleep! Nina’s face is ruined! Do you know that?” I rubbed my eyes and looked up to see Nina’s face covered in red rashes, swollen like a pig’s head.

With just one look, I was nearly scared off the bed. In the dim light, Nina’s face was wrapped in bandages, the exposed skin festering with not a single patch of good flesh. She stood before the bed, looking at me with extremely vicious eyes, as if wanting to tear me to pieces. Damien gently pulled her into his arms, turned to look at me, his face instantly livid. He called his lawyer, saying he would sue the cake shop owner and pursue it to the end. I looked Nina up and down and sneered. “Tsk!” “Who told you to be greedy! Eating despite being allergic to mangoes! Now you’re swollen like a pig’s head!” Damien glared at me furiously. “Elara Hartley! Has your conscience been eaten by dogs!” “Nina’s face is ruined and you’re still making sarcastic remarks!” Nina glared at me viciously, her eyes full of poisonous hatred. Damien took a deep breath and grabbed my wrist hard. “Nina’s accident is your responsibility too. You must compensate her. I think you should give her that villa on the mountain and half the shares in your name!” “I’ll also persuade her to forgive you.” I laughed softly. One playing the bad cop, one playing the good cop. Nina got all the benefits, Damien got all the good reputation. Perfect. I was just thinking about how to ruin Damien’s reputation. Who told him to be two-timing, playing both sides. I forced out two tears, pretending to be wronged. “Why! She’s an outsider. Why should she get my family’s money!” Nina also took the opportunity to play the victim, making Damien’s heart ache instantly. “Damien, don’t worry about me.” “Even if I die outside, I won’t take a penny from the Hartley family!” Damien’s brow furrowed. He looked at me with complete dissatisfaction, as if looking at a child who didn’t understand. “Elara, you stole her identity as the heiress. Isn’t that enough? Now you want to drive her to death?” “It’s just this little bit of money. Can’t you let her have it?” I scoffed and couldn’t help asking: “Compensate her? Does she deserve it?” “I was sold to a mountain village as a child and suffered abuse. Don’t you know that?” “From the moment I was born, her mother stole me and sold me to human traffickers. The fact that I haven’t kicked Nina out of the house or called the police to send their whole family to prison is already merciful enough!” What I said was all true. Damien couldn’t refute it, obviously losing face. He sighed lightly, took my hand, and comforted me: “Elara, I know you suffered a lot as a child, but Nina grew up pampered. Without money, what will she do for the rest of her life?” “Don’t worry. Even though Nina and I grew up together, you’re just as important to me as she is.” “Just as important?” I suppressed the smile at the corner of my mouth and nodded. “Fine! I’m about to marry into the Sinclair family anyway, so hand over all the assets in your name for me to manage!” Nina immediately pointed at my nose and cursed angrily. “Elara Hartley! It’s not enough that you’re monopolizing Damien! Now you’re eyeing the Sinclair family money too! Do you have no shame!” Damien didn’t want me to make things difficult for Nina anymore and brushed me off. “Of course. After you marry me, my money is your money.” I smiled with satisfaction and gave Nina a provocative look. But Nina behind me was dismissive, touching her slightly protruding belly with a sneer. “So stupid.” But just as Damien finished speaking, his grandfather called. Specifically asking me to take over all of Damien’s assets and help manage them.

I froze all the bank cards in Damien’s name. Without money to keep Nina, he angrily sent me a voice message. “Elara Hartley, unfreeze those cards right now!” That night, they were taken away by police for dining and dashing. The incident even made headlines on the city’s entertainment news. After Damien was released from the detention center, he stormed into my CEO office looking furious. I sat in the executive chair, legs crossed, smiling smugly. “Your grandfather handed over all your assets for me to manage. Isn’t that what you agreed to first?” Damien was momentarily speechless. But Nina put her hands on her hips and shouted at me angrily. “Why is the old man so good to you! No matter what, you’re not a Sinclair. You’re always an outsider!” I lifted my eyelids and glanced at her belly with a smile. “Outsider? I’m Damien’s wife-to-be. His money isn’t for me to manage, should it go to you? What are you?” Damien seemed intimidated by my presence, his face livid, apparently guilty, not daring to say another word. I now controlled the finances. Next was teaching this shameless pair a lesson. But Nina was dismissive, stroking her slightly protruding belly with a charming smile. “After all, this is the Sinclair family’s money. You’re still not a Sinclair!” “I’ll tell you the truth. I have a Sinclair in my belly —” Damien quickly covered her mouth, preventing the truth from being revealed. I smiled. I’d known about Nina’s pregnancy for a long time. After all this talk, I was waiting for her to say this. “What did you say? Are you carrying Damien’s child?” I looked at Damien with confusion, pretending to be heartbroken. “Is what she’s saying true? I thought you two just had no boundaries, but you’ve been sleeping together behind my back, and now there’s even a child!” “I’m going to tell Dad. I’m not getting married!” I turned resolutely to leave, scaring Damien into quickly abandoning Nina to coax me. I knew clearly in my heart that he agreed to marry me only because his grandfather favored me. A flash of panic crossed Damien’s eyes. He quickly denied it. “Of course not!” I asked with a serious face, repeatedly: “Damien, don’t lie to me. That’s really not your child?” Damien didn’t hesitate for a second, patting his chest to assure me: “The child she’s carrying is definitely not mine!” I couldn’t help but smile and nodded. “I believe you, but I require a DNA paternity test.” Three days later, Damien and I held a grand wedding, inviting celebrities from both business and political circles. Halfway through the wedding, I took an envelope from a staff member. Damien looked at me helplessly. “Elara, this is all a misunderstanding.” “If that child isn’t mine, will you kneel and apologize to Nina?” Damien was clearly doing this on purpose. Making me lose face on our wedding day was his way of punishing me. Damien snatched the report from my hands and showed it to everyone. Seeing “no blood relation” on it, the whole venue erupted in harsh condemnation. “I knew Nina was innocent!” “Hurry up and kneel to apologize! Don’t waste everyone’s time!” “Why isn’t Elara Hartley reacting? Did she already know something?” Nina also shed tears, glaring at me resentfully, as if I had deliberately bullied her. “Hmph! Now the truth is out. Let’s see how you try to argue your way out!” Seeing me about to refute, Damien suddenly gripped my wrist, leaned close to my ear, his voice extremely low. “Elara Hartley, admit defeat.” “Even if you cry and beg me now, you must kneel and apologize to Nina!” I laughed dismissively, lifted my skirt, and gracefully took the stage. “Don’t rush!” “I know you bribed the staff to give me a fake report.” “But I have a medical report here, about you. Want to see it?” Ignoring the shock on everyone’s faces below, I just quietly glanced at Damien. Then calmly pulled out that medical report. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, all eyes gathering here. After a moment of silence, I heard Damien’s roar. “Impossible! This must be a mistake!” I smiled. “You have oligospermia. Has no one told you?” As soon as the words fell, Damien’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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I was in the middle of something when I happened to glance at my husband’s phone and saw a text message pop up. [Dear Sunshine Academy Parents! Please remember to bring your little ones to the school’s opening ceremony on time tomorrow morning. Don’t be late!] I froze. My husband and I had been married for five years, and we didn’t have any children. Why on earth was he receiving a message like this? I initially thought it was just a wrong number. But a second later, another notification popped up. [Leo’s Dad, the children are going to absolutely love the million-dollar playground you donated!] [Also, the academy has prepared a grand thank-you presentation for you and Mrs. Sterling. Feel free to arrive a little early tomorrow! ~] Leo. Wasn’t that the name of my husband’s secretary’s son? I took a deep breath and quietly put the phone back exactly where I found it. Then, I sent a quick text to my assistant: [Pick me up tomorrow morning. We’re going to Sunshine Academy.] … A few minutes later, Arthur Sterling walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He picked up his phone, checked the screen, and a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corners of his mouth. Right after, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Instead of answering, he started getting dressed and turned to me. “Honey, there’s a minor emergency at the company I need to handle. Don’t wait up for me tonight.” I pretended I hadn’t seen a thing. I nodded and walked him to the front door. But the moment he left, I pulled out my phone and opened the GPS tracking app for his car. That limited-edition Rolls-Royce was the five-year anniversary gift I had given him a week early. I didn’t expect him to use it to drive straight to his mistress this fast. Half an hour later, I followed the GPS signal to the most exclusive, ultra-luxury gated community in the city. I watched as Arthur smoothly pulled the car into the driveway of a massive mansion. Almost immediately, his secretary, Mia, ran out the front door. She threw herself into Arthur’s arms, whining playfully. “Arthur, I specifically dropped Leo off at my mom’s house today. Why are you so late?” My breath hitched in my throat. It really was her. Suddenly, I heard the voices of a few neighbors taking an evening stroll nearby. “That young couple is so in love. They’re so loud every night.” “I know, right? Once I even saw them doing it in their private pool…” “Well, that mansion cost thirty million dollars. Rumor has it the guy paid cash and put the deed entirely in his wife’s name. Don’t be jealous of young love.” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter, hollow laugh. The truth was, six months ago, I had found a real estate brochure for this exact neighborhood in Arthur’s briefcase. Back then, I was stupidly thrilled, thinking he was planning to surprise me with a new home for our anniversary. I never imagined he was actually buying it for Mia. Before I could fully process the sting, Arthur’s doting voice drifted over. “Did I not feed you enough in my office this morning? You’re that impatient?” Mia playfully slapped his chest. “I bet Mrs. Sterling keeps you on a tight leash, doesn’t she?” Arthur scooped her up into his arms effortlessly. “What Mrs. Sterling? You are my Mrs. Sterling.” “Besides, how could she ever compare to you?” What? Even though I had braced myself, hearing him say those words out loud still made my heart cramp with pain. When Arthur first met me, he was a broke kid with absolutely nothing to his name. My dad was fiercely against our relationship. To stay with Arthur, I eventually caved and agreed to my dad marrying his new girlfriend, Sarah. Only after I accepted Sarah as my stepmother did my dad finally stop opposing our marriage. Because of that compromise, I felt so guilty that I knelt in front of my biological mother’s headstone for three days and three nights, begging for her forgiveness. And this… this betrayal and humiliation was what I got in return. I bit my lip, pulled out my phone, took several clear photos of the mansion, and sent them directly to my private investigator and my lawyer. If I had the power to turn Arthur Sterling into a rising star in the business world, I certainly had the power to strip him of absolutely everything. Once that was done, I dialed Arthur’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally answered. His tone was laced with impatience. “Honey, didn’t I tell you there was an emergency at the office? Why are you calling me?” “Oh, right, how could I forget you’re at the office,” I said softly. “I just wanted to let you know that my dad is on his way to your office right now. He said he wanted to drop by and see you since he was in the area.” There was a dead silence on the other end, followed by the sound of frantic rustling. “Dad is coming?! Okay, I’ll get ready.” He hung up immediately. I let out a cold laugh. I looked up and watched him sprint out of the mansion, his shirt half-unbuttoned and his tie askew. Mia stood at the doorway, her eyes red, looking incredibly reluctant to let him go. I smirked. Why would my dad randomly drop by his office at this hour? I was just messing with him. But so what? I just couldn’t stand seeing them happy. After Arthur drove off, I walked up and knocked on Mia’s door. Thinking Arthur had come back, she threw the door open and lunged forward playfully. “Arthur! I knew you couldn’t bear to leave me!” But the moment she saw it was me, she froze solid. She stumbled backward in a panic. “Mrs. Sterling… no, please don’t misunderstand!” “What I just said was… no, it’s not what you think…” I looked at her, my face twisting with instinctive disgust. “All the ambition of a thief, but none of the guts?” “Secretary Mia, if you’re this pathetic, what am I supposed to do with you?” She wavered for a second, then finally straightened her posture and stared at me. She let out a laugh. “Mrs. Sterling, if you already know everything, why are you here asking questions?” “Don’t you think you look completely pathetic right now?” I raised an eyebrow. I didn’t expect her to have the nerve to talk back to me. “Pathetic? What’s pathetic about me?” Mia lifted her chin. There wasn’t a shred of guilt in her eyes; instead, they were filled with contempt. “You know Arthur doesn’t love you, yet you refuse to let go.” “Do you really think you can buy a man’s heart with money?” She seemed to gain confidence as she spoke, her voice rising. “Arthur has been sick of you for a long time! Otherwise, why do you think he hasn’t let you get pregnant in five years?!” “Heh, you don’t even know, do you? To make sure you never had a baby, he’s been secretly slipping birth control into your drinks every single day!” “If I were you, I would have packed up and left a long time ago!” I listened quietly, not interrupting her. Actually, I found it a little amusing. I crossed my arms, looking past her to take in the sprawling mansion, and then raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “So what if you gave him a child?” “As long as he hasn’t divorced me, you and your son are nothing but a dirty mistress and an illegitimate bastard who can never see the light of day!” “And this house behind you? It was bought with my money!” “If anyone is packing up and leaving, it’s going to be you!” “You!” Her head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. She looked at me in absolute shock. “You! You dared to hit me?!” I smiled, pulled the massive diamond wedding ring off my ring finger, and tossed it into the drainage gutter by the driveway. “Congratulations. You just picked up a piece of trash I don’t want anymore.” Her face turned pale, but she stiffened her neck and spat back, “What are you so smug about?!” “Arthur is the famous CEO of Sterling Enterprises now! He doesn’t need you anymore!” “Believe it or not, all it takes is one word from me, and he’ll divorce you!” I laughed out loud. “Is that right? Then let’s see exactly what he chooses tomorrow morning.” Without giving her a chance to retort, I turned and walked away. Arthur didn’t come home the entire night, but he didn’t try to contact me, either. It seemed Mia was a coward after all. She didn’t even have the guts to tell him I had confronted her. I slept incredibly well. Bright and early the next morning, I got into my assistant’s car. “Let’s go. Sunshine Academy.” I was genuinely curious to see what Arthur looked like playing the role of a loving father. By the time we arrived, the street in front of the kindergarten was already lined with luxury cars. A few minutes later, Arthur’s car pulled up. Right on cue, Mia stepped out of the backseat, holding her son, Leo. “Mr. Sterling! Mrs. Sterling!” The kindergarten principal rushed forward to greet them with a beaming smile. “You’re here! Please, come right in. The thank-you presentation is about to begin.” A crowd instantly formed around them. “So he’s the CEO who donated the new playground!” “Mr. Sterling really spares no expense for his child!” “I know, right? I heard he built his company from scratch and is worth over a hundred million in just a few years. Incredible!” Hearing the praise, Arthur looked incredibly smug. He took Leo from Mia’s arms and said with a doting smile, “If it weren’t for my wife building this empire by my side, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” “As long as my wife and Leo are happy, no expense is too great.” I found it utterly hilarious. Mia built an empire by his side? Did he forget that if my dad hadn’t invested fifty million dollars, he’d still be a low-level sales rep at a nobody firm? If I hadn’t leveraged my family’s network and resources, he never would have landed any of those massive contracts. Just as they were about to walk through the academy gates, I let out a cold laugh and stepped out of my car. I pulled off my sunglasses, staring directly at Arthur, and spoke loudly enough for the crowd to hear: “A man who married into his wife’s money actually has the nerve to keep a mistress and a bastard child on the side. You’ve got some real guts.” The moment Arthur saw me, his entire body went rigid. Mia, however, was quick on the draw. She immediately linked her arm tightly through Arthur’s. I walked up to them with a mocking smile. “CEO Sterling really goes above and beyond to take care of his employees, doesn’t he?” “Taking care of your secretary to the point of getting her pregnant, and then dropping a million dollars on a playground to keep her happy. What a generous boss.” The crowd exploded into gasps and whispers. The way they looked at Mia changed instantly—from envy and admiration to blatant disgust and contempt. “What? That woman is his secretary?!” “So she’s a homewrecker! Does that mean Leo is an illegitimate kid?” Mia’s face drained of color, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I’m not a mistress! Arthur and I have been together for six years! Leo is five years old!” She looked up at Arthur with a pitiful, tear-stained face. “Arthur, tell them. Isn’t that true?” Arthur finally snapped out of his shock and glared at me fiercely. “Chloe, why are you here?” “What exactly are you trying to pull?!” He wrapped his arm tightly around Mia, then turned to the crowd with an apologetic look. “Everyone, I am so sorry you had to witness this.” “This woman is our family’s maid. She’s suffered from severe delusions for years. She genuinely believes she is my wife.” “I kept her employed out of pity because she’s taken care of our household for so long.” “I never imagined she would follow us here today and cause a scene.” What? I couldn’t believe my ears. He actually called me his maid? The parents in the crowd immediately rallied behind them, pointing at me and whispering loudly. “So she’s just a crazy maid.” “The help these days is out of control. Delusional enough to think she’s the lady of the house.” “Look at her clothes. How could a maid afford that? She definitely stole them from Mrs. Sterling’s closet!” “Shameless trash! How dare she slander the real Mrs. Sterling by calling her a mistress!” Right then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mia: [See that? Arthur chose me!] [Why didn’t he come home last night? Hmm, so hard to guess. 😉] [I was going to let you off the hook and not tell Arthur you hit me, but you just had to come here and humiliate yourself.] Immediately after, a video file popped up in the chat. In the video, Arthur and Mia were in his office… in extremely compromising, explicit positions. No wonder Arthur didn’t come home last night or call to interrogate me. What I didn’t understand was where Arthur found the audacity to treat me like this. I looked up, staring dead into his eyes, and asked coldly, “Arthur, aren’t you afraid my dad will find out about this?” Hearing that, Arthur’s brow furrowed. Then, he actually leaned in close to my ear and sneered in a low voice, “Your dad? Your stepmother is about to pop, and rumor has it she’s having a boy.” “Do you really think you’re still getting a piece of the Davis family fortune?” So that was it… But what he didn’t know was that long before I agreed to let my dad marry Sarah, they had already signed a bulletproof prenuptial agreement. The contract explicitly stated that everything belonging to the Davis family would go to me. To put my mind at ease, Sarah had even convinced my dad to transfer all his voting shares in the company to me on the spot. Thinking of that, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I quickly forwarded the explicit video and chat logs directly to my dad. Seeing me stay silent, Arthur’s face darkened. “Are you going to get lost or not?” “If you ever dare to pull a stunt like this in front of my wife and son again, don’t blame me for what happens next!” Hearing his threat, the crowd felt fully validated. The principal immediately rushed forward, eager to please. “Mr. Sterling, please don’t worry! I’ll have security throw this crazy woman out right now!” The other parents chimed in in agreement. “Hurry up and leave! Stop embarrassing yourself!” “Seriously! If you’re that desperate for a man, go stand on a street corner! Coming to a kindergarten to try and steal a child’s father—you have no shame!” Within seconds, several security guards carrying batons marched up to me. I instinctively took two steps back. “Don’t you dare touch me!” Suddenly, someone in the crowd reached out and tried to yank my handbag off my shoulder. “Isn’t this the new limited-edition bag that’s been sold out for months?!” “You psycho! Give that back to Mrs. Sterling right now!” “Stealing clothes is one thing, but trying to steal a husband?! Who do you think you are?!” “I say we strip her right here! Let the kids learn exactly what happens to thieves!”

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My boyfriend of three years, Liam, always looked down on my job as an Uber driver. He said it was a dead-end gig. That night, he told me he was hanging out with some guys from work. He said they’d probably be out late and he’d just grab a Lyft home, telling me not to wait up or pick him up. Around 10:30 PM, the app pinged with a new ride request. I accepted it out of habit, pulled up to the pickup spot, and waited in the driver’s seat. In the rearview mirror, I saw a man and a woman get in. The guy was hammered, slumping heavily against the woman. She had her head down, her hand casually slipping under the waistband of his pants. He tilted his head back, seeking a kiss, a deep flush spreading across his cheeks. He didn’t recognize me. As he moved, the necklace around his neck slipped sideways against his collarbone. It was the necklace I had personally clasped around his neck for our three-year anniversary. He had told me it was the best gift he had ever received in his entire life. 1 I pulled out my phone and deliberately dialed his number. A ringtone went off in the backseat. His body went rigid for a second. He turned his head slightly to squint at the glowing screen of his phone, then immediately flipped it face-down onto the leather seat. He buried his face back into the woman’s chest, not even bothering to look up. The phone rang six times before it went to voicemail. I called again. It rang out again. The third time, he reached down and hit “Decline” with swift, practiced efficiency, as if he were hanging up on a telemarketer. I slid my phone back into my pocket. Both my hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. The woman in the backseat looked up and barked at me: “Hey, Uber! What the fuck are you staring at? Keep your eyes on the road!” “Three miles took you twenty minutes. Are you intentionally taking the long way to milk the meter?” I didn’t say a word. Liam chuckled softly, patting her chest playfully. “Come on, Sarah. You know how these gig apps are. They just give rides to anyone. She drives like a fucking snail.” He paused, not lowering his voice a single decibel. “And she keeps staring at my abs in the mirror. It’s disgusting.” He said it with a smile. It was a tone I had heard for three years. It was the exact same flippant, dismissive tone he used when complaining about delivery drivers or sneering at waiters. Like he was talking about a stray dog blocking his path. Sarah, apparently a senior exec at his firm, snapped at me again: “The AC. Set it to 72. Do you not know how to work a dial? Your hands are shaking. Did you buy your license off the internet?” I adjusted the temperature to 72 degrees. I didn’t say a word. “I asked you a question. Are you deaf? Where is your customer service?” Liam chimed in from the backseat, his voice lazy and drawling: “What kind of class do you expect from an Uber driver? Don’t let her ruin your mood, Sarah.” “These bottom-feeders… they just don’t know any better. Let her drive. Don’t expect her to understand what decency is.” Bottom-feeders. The word slipped out of his mouth so casually, as flatly as if he were commenting on the weather. Sarah smiled, clearly satisfied. Her arm tightened around his waist, her thumb slowly tracing circles against the skin under his dress shirt. He didn’t pull away. He leaned deeper into her embrace. I kept my eyes locked on the road ahead. Without uttering a single syllable, I pulled the car smoothly up to the entrance of their luxury hotel. Sarah stepped out first. She reached into her designer bag, pulled out a few crumpled dollar bills and a handful of loose change, and tossed it casually through my open window, aiming right at my face. The paper bills hit my forehead and fluttered down. The coins slammed against the dashboard, bouncing loudly. One quarter rolled and wedged itself deep into the crevice of the passenger seat. “Take that and buy yourself a coffee. Maybe it’ll wake up those few brain cells you have left. Think about how pathetic you are.” She clapped her hands together, as if dusting off something filthy. “With your driving skills, you’re only fit to deliver DoorDash. Letting you drive actual people is an insult to the profession.” Liam slowly got out of the car. As he walked past my window, he stopped. He looked down and spat on me. The spit landed on the sleeve of my jacket, seeping into the fabric and leaving a dark, wet stain. Then, he linked his arm through Sarah’s. The two of them pushed through the heavy glass doors of the hotel and disappeared inside. I sat in the driver’s seat, completely motionless. I slowly bent down, picking up the crumpled bills from the floor mat, one by one. I dug my fingers into the seat crevice, prying out that single quarter, and clenched it tightly in my fist. I opened the dashcam app on my center console and replayed the interior footage from the very beginning. The video quality wasn’t cinematic, but it was more than enough. His face, her hands, that specific necklace catching the light—it was all crystal clear. I saved the video file directly to my phone. Then, I sent a text to my company’s legal department: [Run a full forensic audit on Sarah Jenkins’s accounts for the past two years. I want every single detail.] Three years. From the first time he told me my Uber job was a dead-end embarrassment, to tonight, calling me a “bottom-feeder” in my own rearview mirror. I had spent all this time waiting for him to say something different. To be someone different. I waited for nothing. The legal team replied the next day. Their tone was highly cautious. Sarah Jenkins had authorized a massive transfer of funds from the corporate petty cash and expense accounts. It was a substantial sum, signed off and wired directly into a private, external checking account. The name on the receiving account… I stared at the line of text three times to make sure I was reading it right. Liam Sterling. 2 I set my phone face-down on the counter and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. The water was ice cold, but I didn’t feel it as it slid down my throat. I sat back down and pulled up my calendar. I cross-referenced every single “late-night team meeting,” every “staying at my buddy’s place,” and every “networking event” Liam had claimed to attend over the past three years. I opened Sarah’s corporate travel and expense logs and compared them line by line. Match. The second date, match. Third, fourth, fifth… almost every single date matched perfectly. The timestamps aligned within a fifteen-minute margin of error. It was choreographed. I pulled up the “selfies” he had sent me over the years. I had never bothered to scrutinize the backgrounds before. Zooming in on one photo taken in a hotel hallway, I saw a reflection in a decorative mirror behind him. A sliver of a silhouette, the collar of a blouse, the hem of a skirt. It was the exact outfit Sarah had posted on her Instagram that very same day. I saved every single screenshot and dumped them into a master folder on my desktop. My father had been calling me relentlessly for the past few days. Our luxury auto group was expanding into its third major metropolitan market. The West Coast division desperately needed an executive who could make the hard calls. He called me, skipping the pleasantries entirely: “How much longer are you going to play around driving Ubers?” “Do you have any idea how many critical decisions are bottlenecked right now waiting for you to come back?” I said, “Just give me a little more time.” He went silent for a moment. “Are you still hung up on that boy?” I didn’t answer. He sighed, his voice softening. “Your mother told you years ago that boy was shallow and short-sighted. We tried to stop you, but you insisted on slamming your head against a brick wall. Are you finally done?” I said, “Dad, as soon as I finish cleaning up the mess here, I’ll head back and take over the West Coast division. Send Chloe over to me first.” He was quiet for a while before finally saying, “Alright. I’ll have Chloe fly out to you tomorrow.” After hanging up, I got a text from Liam. He said he had to stay late at the office to finish a pitch deck. He asked if I had eaten, told me not to wait up, and said he’d be home very late. He ended the text with “Be a good girl and wait for me at home,” followed by a kissing emoji. I replied with a simple “Okay.” Then I grabbed my coat, walked out the door, and called an Uber. I gave the driver the address of Liam’s “office.” When I arrived, the corporate building was completely dark. The entire floor was deserted. I walked across the street, found a concrete planter to sit on, and waited. Ten minutes later. Sarah’s sleek Audi turned the corner and pulled to a stop on the side of the road. Liam approached from the opposite direction, walking quickly. He opened the passenger door and slid in. The windows rolled up. The car stayed parked. It didn’t drive away. I pulled out my phone, switched to video mode, and pointed the camera directly at the Audi. Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. A full hour. The car just sat there under the amber glow of the streetlight, the engine idling. The chassis was shaking. The movement wasn’t violent, but it was rhythmic and continuous. I saved the video, stood up, dusted off the back of my jeans, and called a ride home. He walked through the front door at 1:00 AM. As he entered, he sighed heavily and said, “Working late is brutal.” He tossed his briefcase onto the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and went straight to the shower. When he came out, his hair was still damp. He leaned against the headboard, scrolling through his phone, a look of profound, lazy satisfaction on his face. It wasn’t the exhaustion of a long workday. It was the heavy, satiated relaxation of someone who had just gotten exactly what they wanted. He looked up and noticed I was still awake. “Why are you still up? Don’t you have to drive tomorrow?” I said, “Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a noncommittal “Hmm” and didn’t ask anything else. He turned off his lamp and lay down. Three minutes later, his breathing was deep and even. Over the past three years, how many of those “late nights at the office” were actually spent sweating in the passenger seat of that Audi? I sent Chloe a text: [Fly in tomorrow. We need to talk.] Chloe arrived the next afternoon. She sat down across from me, her first words being: “Boss, have you finally snapped out of it?” I slid my phone across the table to her. The screenshots of the forensic accounting, the hour-long video of the shaking Audi, the dashcam footage from the Uber ride. I showed her every single file, one by one. She watched it all in silence. A long silence. Then, she slid the phone back to me. “How do you want to play this?” I said, “The annual corporate gala. We’ll end it there.” 3 A week before the gala, Liam suddenly became incredibly, suffocatingly attentive. Before I even woke up in the morning, a hot matcha latte and fresh pastries from my favorite bakery were waiting on the nightstand. When I got home from “driving,” the apartment was spotless. My clothes were neatly folded on the bed, and my house slippers were perfectly aligned, pointing toward the door. At night, he would actively pull me against his shoulder while we watched TV, his fingers lightly tracing circles on my waist. He would look down at me and smile randomly, looking exactly like the sweet, devoted guy I met three years ago. I knew exactly what he was doing. He needed to bring me to the corporate gala. He needed my cooperation. He needed me to look stable, compliant, and supportive, so I wouldn’t cause any drama. He needed me to continue playing the role of the oblivious, devoted girlfriend, just like I had for the past three years. I played along perfectly. I smiled as I took the water he offered, asking him, “Why are you being so sweet lately?” He wrapped his arms around my neck, pressed his cheek against mine, and whispered, “Because I love you, obviously.” The necklace hung from his neck, catching the light and sparkling brightly. Over the weekend, he dragged me to a high-end mall. In a designer boutique, he picked out a silk blouse for me. It cost over eight hundred dollars. While paying at the register, he casually mentioned to the sales associate: “She doesn’t really care about fashion. If I don’t force her, she’ll just wear the same old faded t-shirts everywhere.” The sales associate offered a polite, professional smile but didn’t respond. Her eyes flicked over my casual clothes for a split second. I understood that look. It was the look of someone wondering why a guy like him was wasting his money on someone like me. On the drive home, he kept his eyes on the road and delivered a steady stream of instructions: “At the gala, just keep a low profile. Don’t mention the Uber driving. If anyone asks, just say you’re ‘transitioning careers’.” “Don’t try to make conversation with anyone at Sarah’s table. They operate on a different level; you won’t be able to keep up.” “Don’t go around offering toasts, don’t wander off. Just sit quietly and look nice.” He delivered these instructions with a casual, natural authority. It wasn’t a discussion; it was a mandate. Like he was instructing a slightly slow-witted child on how to behave in public so they wouldn’t embarrass the family. Patient, but overwhelmingly condescending. I sat in the passenger seat and nodded. “Understood.” He patted my hand approvingly, a satisfied smile on his lips. Then, he looked down to reply to a text. He tilted the screen slightly away from me so I couldn’t see it. But in the reflection of the passenger window, I caught a glimpse of the contact name. Sarah, followed by a red heart emoji. The night before the gala, he told me he had to go to the venue early to coordinate logistics. I didn’t follow him this time. I had enough evidence; I didn’t need any more. I called Chloe and told her to double-check the master file we had prepared: The dashcam footage, the hour-long Audi video, the forensic accounting breakdowns, and the petty cash transfer agreement bearing Liam’s signature. I told her to compress it all into a single file and have the broadcasting equipment ready to go. Chloe asked, “Boss, are you absolutely sure you want to drop this at the gala?” I said, “I’m sure.” She was quiet for two seconds. “Alright. Consider it done.” Liam came home past midnight. As usual, he walked through the door complaining, “I’m exhausted.” He took a shower, slid into bed, and just before falling asleep, rolled over to look at me. His tone was purely instructional: “Make sure you wear that blazer I bought you tomorrow. No sneakers. Stay close to me.” “I’ve already given Sarah a heads-up about you. Just don’t say anything stupid.” I said, “Okay.” He turned off the lamp and lay back down. His breathing leveled out almost instantly. The morning of the gala, he woke up early, styled his hair meticulously with pomade, and put on a brand-new, tailored casual suit. He stood by the door, waiting for me. I walked over. He picked up a delicate brooch and pinned it carefully to the lapel of my blazer. His fingers adjusted it a few times, pressing it flat. He looked at it, then adjusted it again. “Perfect.” He patted my chest lightly, smiling. “Don’t embarrass me today, okay?” I looked down at him. I wanted to say, “I won’t.” But instead, I just nodded. Because today, I wasn’t going to be the one getting embarrassed. As we walked into the grand ballroom, Liam linked his arm through mine and walked quickly, almost as if he were afraid of being seen. A female coworker walked toward us. Her gaze swept over me from head to toe. She didn’t bother lowering her voice as she said to Liam: “Is this your girlfriend? The Uber driver?” She wrinkled her nose, not even trying to hide her disdain. “She reeks of cheap gas station coffee.” Before Liam could respond, a guy next to her laughed and chimed in: “Liam, seriously man, Sarah thinks so highly of you. Bringing an Uber driver to a corporate event? You’re dragging your own brand through the mud. And here I thought you were a smart guy.” A few people standing nearby snickered quietly. Liam kept pulling me forward. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t say a word. He just walked faster, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. He wasn’t holding me tight because he felt protective; he was holding me tight because he was terrified I was going to open my mouth and ruin his image. 4 After delivering her keynote speech, Sarah stepped off the stage and began mingling with the crowd. She spotted me instantly and stopped. Right in front of a circle of executives and colleagues, she spoke loudly and clearly: “Well, well. So this is Liam’s girlfriend? The Uber driver?” She looked me up and down slowly, shaking her head. Smiling, she turned to the VP of Sales standing next to her: “Look at this. I guess Liam really does have terrible taste, bringing an Uber driver to a black-tie event.” “He’s our top luxury auto salesman. Isn’t this just humiliating himself? And to think, I actually believed he had some ambition.” The VP offered a sycophantic, awkward laugh, nodding in agreement. Sarah turned back to me. She patted my shoulder. Her touch wasn’t friendly; it was heavy, condescending, pressing down on me. “Little girl, what kind of future do you think you have driving a cab?” “Life is short. Don’t drag Liam down with you. If he stays with you, he’s going to be eating dirt for the rest of his life.” I didn’t say a word. Liam kept his head down, staring at the floor. Not a single syllable escaped his lips. Liam’s younger sister, Emily, squeezed through the crowd holding a champagne flute. She yelled out loudly: “Sister-in-law! Oh, wait, I guess we don’t know if you’ll actually make it that far yet!” She looked around the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention, then raised her glass with a mocking smile. “Everyone, my brother is the top salesman in this entire company. Does anyone else think he’s absolutely blind for dating an Uber driver?” The crowd erupted in laughter. Someone murmured, “Yeah, he could definitely do better.” Others shook their heads or sipped their drinks, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. Emily turned to look at me. Her fake smile vanished, replaced by blunt, naked contempt. “Look, lady, I’ll just be honest. Are you worthy of him? In what universe do you deserve my brother?” “What do you actually have? Do you have money? Do you have connections? All you have is a driver’s license.” “Uber drivers are the absolute bottom-feeders of society. The kind of trash that will never, ever climb out of the gutter. Do you seriously lack that much self-awareness?” Another wave of laughter rolled through the crowd. This time, Liam finally spoke up. He muttered, “Emily, that’s enough.” But his tone was as flat and unemotional as if he were commenting on a mild breeze. Then, he raised his glass, turned his back to me, and went to clink glasses with a coworker. He didn’t look at me once. I sat in my chair, my hands resting quietly on my knees. I didn’t touch my drink. I thought about the past three years. Every single time he told me, “Can you please show a little ambition?” I thought about the smirk on his face when he sat in the backseat of my car and said, “Bottom-feeders belong at the bottom.” I thought about Sarah throwing crumpled dollar bills in my face. I thought about that Audi parked under the streetlight for an hour, the engine idling. I thought about the forensic accounting screenshot. Payee: Liam Sterling. His mother, Mrs. Sterling, suddenly stood up from a nearby table. Her voice was shrill and grating, loud enough for the entire section to hear: “What can a filthy Uber driver possibly offer my son?! Can she buy him a mansion?! Can she buy him a Porsche?!” “Her entire monthly salary is less than the commission my son makes selling one car!” Her finger was practically jabbing me in the eye. The people around us were laughing openly, pointing and sneering. Right at that exact moment, Chloe slipped into the ballroom through a side door. She didn’t look at anyone. She walked smoothly and silently to the AV booth in the corner. She bent down and plugged the HDMI cable directly into the main projector interface. The massive LED screen behind the stage flared to life. The first image: The official corporate business license for the National Luxury Auto Group. Under the “Legal Representative / CEO” section, it read clearly: Evelyn Vance. The second image: The corporate organizational chart. Sarah’s name was listed under the “Regional General Manager” bracket. My name was sitting directly at the very top. Above hers. The entire ballroom went dead silent. [The color drained from Sarah’s face in less than a second.]

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