Category: English

My childhood best friend, Aria, suffers from a condition called “skin hunger.” She needs to hold me every day to soothe her anxiety. But ever since the so-called “fated male lead,” Ethan, appeared, she stopped touching me. Instead, she openly hugged him right in front of me. Desperate to win her back, I rejected an arranged marriage with the daughter of the city’s wealthiest family and even threatened to cut ties with my own parents. To my shock, Aria just sneered at me: “Wow, you actually threatened to cut ties with your family? I almost respect you for having the guts. “Too bad you’re just a giant man-child who hasn’t been weaned yet. You aren’t worth a single fraction of Ethan.” Then, a barrage of floating text—a bullet screen—appeared in my vision: [The second male lead is an absolute idiot. Your arranged fiancée is literally the most beautiful woman in the business world.] [With her help, building your own business empire is basically a guaranteed success.] Hearing that, I instantly changed my mind and bowed my head to my parents. “Mom, Dad, I agree to the marriage.” 1. I was standing in my father’s study. I had just declared that I was severing all ties with the family. The glowing text of the bullet screen rolled frantically across my vision, desperately trying to persuade me. [Don’t do anything stupid! You gain absolutely nothing from this!] [The second you leave your family, the male lead is going to completely destroy your future.] Ethan gripped Aria’s hand tightly. His brow was furrowed, his eyes filled with apparent concern. “Liam, don’t do this. How about I just back off? I’ll give Aria back to you. “You’re the heir to the Sterling Group. You’re the only one truly suited for her. A normal guy like me shouldn’t get between you two.” Aria glared at me coldly, instinctively pulling Ethan behind her to protect him. “You don’t need to beg him. Let him do whatever he wants. “Can’t you see? He’s just putting on an act. He’s a spoiled rich kid who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. Do you really think he’d give all this up? “You’re just too naive, Ethan. That’s why he thinks he can manipulate you.” Her tone was dripping with disgust. “Liam Sterling, drop the act. Looking at you makes me sick.” This was the same childhood friend who used to agree with everything I said. Now, she was acting as a human shield for another man. She seemed to have completely forgotten that she used to grip the hem of my shirt, begging me not to leave her side. Aria suffered from skin hunger. She needed daily physical contact to calm her anxiety. She was my playmate; we grew up together. I guarded her like her own shadow, never leaving her side. Our houses were just a street apart. She used to climb over my balcony, sneak into my room, and we would hold each other until dawn. In class and between classes, she followed me everywhere like a little shadow. Whenever she got stuck on a homework problem, she would act cute and whine until I explained it to her. Even when we occasionally argued, the second I stopped talking to her, she would immediately drop her pride and coax me into forgiving her. Every New Year’s Eve, we stayed up together to ring in the new year. Her wish every single year was to marry me. She made that wish for ten years straight. Everything changed in high school. It happened that summer. She went to an outdoor movie with some friends. On her way home, a massive thunderstorm broke out. She hadn’t seen me all day, her skin hunger flared up, and she was too weak to walk. When I found out, I rushed to get her. She was completely soaked, burning with a high fever, lying helplessly in my arms. She gripped my shirt tightly, whispering weakly, “Liam, don’t leave me alone.” My heart ached as I kissed her forehead. “Never.” Suddenly, a new line of text popped up in my vision. [If the current Aria could see the future—if she could see herself forcing Liam to cut ties with his family, and watching him get bullied without caring at all—she would absolutely despise her past self.] The text vanished quickly. 2. At first, I didn’t notice anything wrong. I thought I was just overthinking things. Until the new transfer student walked into our classroom. His name was Ethan. He came from a poor family and only managed to attend our elite school on a scholarship. As he walked past Aria with his long legs, I noticed a flash of stunning realization in her eyes. Ethan looked exactly like the male lead in a romance novel. Aria was captivated at first sight. He chose a seat in the back row by the window. He was a loner, yet somehow drew people in. From that day on, the number of times Aria initiated contact with me decreased drastically. And that’s when the bizarre bullet screen appeared again. [The male lead is here! His vibe is absolutely incredible.] [Look at how obsessed the female lead is. I am absolutely shipping them.] [Honestly, it kind of hurts to see the childhood best friend looking so sad. He’s really handsome too, you know.] [That’s just reality. The childhood best friend never stands a chance against the fated ‘new guy’.] Those few comments of sympathy were quickly buried under a mountain of text praising Ethan. Gradually, Ethan began to occupy every corner of Aria’s life. On the first day of the new semester, I tried to stop them from interacting. I grabbed Aria’s arm and insisted, “We’re walking home together after school.” It was the first time Aria ever agreed to me so reluctantly. Right at that moment, a group of girls surrounded Ethan, chattering excitedly, asking for his number and offering him gifts. Without a second thought, Aria sprinted over and grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Sorry, he’s already taken.” From then on, Aria walked home with Ethan every single day. On the second day, Aria gave the lunchbox she had made for me to Ethan. On the third day, Aria’s skin hunger flared up, and Ethan held her tightly. In the days that followed… I could only watch helplessly as they grew closer and closer. One day, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped Aria and told her I needed a hug too. She looked at me with pure disdain. “Liam, look at yourself. You’re covered in sweat and you stink. Ethan smells so good. I’d much rather hug him.” 3. Later, some local thugs started harassing Ethan. Aria, completely ignoring her own safety, rushed in to defend him. Watching those thugs vulgarly harass Aria drove me completely insane. I charged in and started fighting them. I thought my true feelings would finally be seen by Aria. But it was as if I didn’t even exist. She only cared about checking if Ethan was hurt. I had been knocked down. My expensive watch was shattered, and my wrist was scraped and bleeding, but I didn’t feel the physical pain. Watching Aria hold Ethan so tightly, my heart suddenly spasmed, feeling like it was being sliced open. Right then, I had a premonition. I was going to lose her. In college, they tested into the same university. After graduation, Ethan joined Aria’s parents’ company and became their youngest director. At business galas, Aria and Ethan always appeared as a couple. When her skin hunger flared up, I wanted to go comfort her, but I just watched as she hid herself in Ethan’s embrace. That spot used to belong exclusively to me. What chilled me even more was that even my parents started favoring Ethan. When my father’s company faced a crisis, it was Ethan who spotted the vulnerability in the contracts and helped us navigate the disaster. My parents started frequently inviting Ethan over for dinner. My mother personally cooked for him, even giving him the braised pork belly that was my absolute favorite dish. Everything I had was slowly being taken away by Ethan. All the love and privileges that originally belonged to me became his. Then, my parents arranged a marriage for me. The prospective bride was the daughter of the city’s wealthiest family, a woman of unparalleled beauty. I went to Aria, telling her I was going to reject the arranged marriage because she was the only one in my heart. But she looked at me with contempt. “Why don’t you just cut ties with your family then? That’s the only way to prove how much you actually love me.” In a fit of rage, I decided to sever all ties with my family. Even when I said I was giving up my entire inheritance, Aria’s eyes didn’t show a ripple of emotion. I remembered how it used to be. If I spoke even a single harsh word, she would endlessly try to coax and comfort me. I felt my heart slowly freezing over. The bullet screen warned me: [Liam Sterling actually cuts ties with his family over this, and ends up completely broke.] [He thinks doing this will make Aria feel bad for him. But she only feels guilty for a few days before the male lead completely ‘heals’ her.] [This actually ends up being a blessing in disguise for the main couple’s relationship. Their affection for each other skyrockets.] [Ethan stays by Liam’s parents’ side, supporting them. They’re so moved they want to adopt him as their godson.] [And Ethan happily agrees.] [In the end, Liam ends up living on the streets, while his parents and his childhood friend help Ethan build his business empire. They all say how incredibly lucky they are to have Ethan in their lives.] 4. Despair washed over me like a tidal wave. Did no one in this world truly care about me? Just because I wasn’t the ‘male lead’? Suddenly, a string of text caught my eye, completely riveting my attention. [The second male lead is an absolute idiot. Your arranged fiancée is literally the most beautiful woman in the business world.] [With her help, building your own business empire is basically a guaranteed success.] I rubbed my eyes in shock, thinking I was hallucinating. More comments flooded the screen like falling snow. [Exactly! She’s had a secret crush on the second male lead for years. When his career hits rock bottom, she silently supports him from behind the scenes, never showing her face.] [When the second male lead’s startup fails and he’s drowning in debt, she pays it all off for him instantly. When he tries to push her away, she uses gentle methods to make him stay. Every time he wants to leave, she quietly provides him with the absolute best resources, until he willingly chooses to stand by her side.] [Yeah, yeah! The author even wrote a bonus chapter for them. It’s basically a ‘Dominant CEO falls for me’ story, but she is so incredibly gentle with him.] These comments made my blood boil with excitement. To be honest, my lifelong dream had always been to build my own business empire. Standing in the study, looking at the crushing disappointment in my parents’ eyes, I suddenly realized how incredibly irrational cutting ties with my family was. Out in the living room, people were trying to persuade Aria. “Why don’t you try talking to him? If you say something, he’ll definitely listen.” “Yeah, he cares about you so much. He’ll consider whatever you tell him.” Aria stood there, her expression blank. She knew Liam too well. This was just a momentary impulse; there was no way he would actually cut ties with his family. If he really didn’t want the marriage, they just needed to communicate properly. She would figure out a way to solve it. But she couldn’t keep indulging him like this. It wasn’t fair to Ethan, and it would only make Liam more and more dependent on her. She needed to make him understand that life isn’t a game. She said softly, “Stop this. You’re making your parents very worried. “You need to have a proper talk with your parents about the marriage. But you need to be clear about one thing: even without this arranged marriage, we are just friends. “There will never be anything else between us.” Right at that moment, I turned around and took long strides toward my parents. Standing in front of them, I stated solemnly, “I’ve thought it through. I agree to this marriage. When can I meet the lady?” Aria’s expression instantly froze. “Liam Sterling, what kind of game are you playing now?” I completely ignored her. After careful consideration, throwing away my future for a woman who constantly sided with an outsider was absolutely not worth it. I emphasized again: “I have made my decision. I accept this marriage.” 5. I took my mother’s hand and said softly, “Mom, I’m serious. Please set up a meeting with her as soon as possible.” My mom froze for a moment, then burst into tears, hugging me tightly. “You terrified me just now.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. I turned to look at him. “Ethan, what’s with that look? Are you disappointed that I changed my mind?” Everyone’s eyes immediately focused on Ethan. Ethan’s expression stiffened for a second before he calmly replied, “You’re misunderstanding. I’m just worried you’re making this decision too hastily.” His expression was composed, his tone firm. “Liam, I know you have misunderstandings about Aria and me. But I believe time will prove everything. I will use my own abilities to prove that I am worthy of her.” Aria looked at Ethan with eyes full of love, gripping his hand tightly. “Ethan, you’re the only one in my heart.” If it were before, seeing her confess her love to another man like this would have ripped my heart to shreds. But now, I just looked at Ethan and said, “Don’t misunderstand. I’m getting married soon. I haven’t had any feelings for her for a long time. “I’ve moved on.” I looked directly into Aria’s eyes and enunciated every word: “Aria, from this moment on, I will never interfere with your life again.” Aria was stunned. Then, a mocking smirk curled the corner of her lips. “Hah. Liam Sterling, you finally learned how to play hard to get? “I hope you can keep this backbone of yours.” Ethan looked serious. “Aria, there’s an important meeting at the company. We should head back.” Ethan always prioritized his career, and Aria greatly admired that about him. But this time, she was clearly distracted. It took her a long moment to snap back to reality. “Right. Let’s go.” She was absolutely certain that it wouldn’t be long before Liam came crawling back, clinging to her just like he always did. It was always the same routine. He was like a shadow she couldn’t shake off. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he would never leave. There was no way he could just let go like this. He was probably just copying some trope from a TV drama, trying to play hard to get. Victoria Vance had returned from abroad. She was the most dazzling queen of the business world in the book. Every movement she made was elegant and composed, yet she carried an undeniable, overwhelming aura of authority. Let alone the declining Sterling family, even the currently prominent families in Shanghai couldn’t compare to her. She was likely here to discuss the details of the arranged marriage. For this meeting, I specifically changed into my most formal suit. When I pushed open the door to the reception room, she was already waiting. She was a woman of extraordinary presence. Her features were exquisite, her figure tall and elegant.

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My dad had a respectable job and always acted like a man who took responsibility. My mom didn’t have a high degree, and she was timid and afraid of conflict. So, when they divorced, I decisively chose to live with my dad. Not long after, my dad remarried. My new stepmom sold me to human traffickers. My mom crossed mountains and rivers, risking everything to find me and bring me back from the middle of nowhere. The moment we reunited, my mom held me and sobbed: “Peach, I’m so sorry! Mom failed to protect you!” My dad, in order to pay for his stepson’s expensive private school tuition, forced me to drop out of high school. My mom couldn’t win back custody, so she could only secretly slip me the tuition money she had painstakingly saved up. Eventually, I was pushed off a balcony by my stepbrother and died. My dad testified in court: “The girl committed suicide.” After I died, I floated in the air as a spirit. I saw my mom holding a sign with the word “Injustice” written in blood-red letters, kneeling outside the courthouse for days, refusing to leave… When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. I was back on the exact day the judge asked me to choose between them. 1 In the courtroom, the judge called me in. “According to the law, since the child is over eight years old, we must respect her true wishes.” “You are already fourteen. You understand the circumstances of both your parents. Who do you choose to live with?” I had just been reborn, and my head was still a bit foggy. Thinking I was hesitating, my mom rushed to say, “Peach, come live with Mom. Mom can take good care of you.” My dad shot her a look of absolute disdain and said, “What kind of care can you provide? Are you going to feed my daughter scraps for the rest of her life?” “I already found a job! I can support Peach!” “With your education, how much can you possibly make? For the past dozen years, every single penny you spent was mine!” Listening to their argument, my mind gradually cleared. In my past life, I was a fourteen-year-old girl going through a rebellious phase. My mom was strict. She wouldn’t let me get extra ear piercings, dye my hair blonde, and definitely wouldn’t let me skip class to date boys. I found her incredibly annoying. My dad, on the other hand, rarely came home and basically never disciplined me. Whenever he did show up, he would just hand me a wad of cash and tell me to take my friends out for KFC buckets. So, when they were fighting for custody, I chose my dad without a second thought. Hearing my decision, my mom started crying uncontrollably. Her tears soaked her clothes. Her hair, her lips, her eyes… everything was covered in tears. She kept calling my name as she watched my dad smugly lead me away. Now, this scene was playing out again. Both my parents were staring at me with desperate, expectant eyes, waiting for my decision. “I choose Mom.” A look of pure, unadulterated shock and joy flashed across my mom’s eyes. My dad looked at me in utter disbelief. “But I have one condition! “I want to change my last name! I’m taking my mom’s last name!” 2 Outside the courthouse, my dad grabbed my arm. “Peach! What is wrong with you? My financial situation is infinitely better than your mother’s. You’ve always been a kid who knows how to weigh the pros and cons!” “Exactly. Because I know how to weigh the pros and cons, I would never choose you!” In my past life, my spirit hovered in mid-air, watching my own blood-soaked body being loaded into a body bag. My dad put on a pathetic show, kneeling on the ground and crying, telling the police that I committed suicide because the pressure of the SATs was too much for me. Total bullshit! I scored a 1550 on the SATs. What pressure did I have? It was his cheap stepson, who couldn’t even get into a community college, who pushed me off the balcony out of pure jealousy. If his stepson was the murderer, my dad was a complete and utter accomplice. Under the scorching sun, my mom held that “Injustice” sign, kneeling in front of the courthouse, ignoring the pointing and whispering of the crowds. Her knees were worn raw and bleeding, but she refused to leave, demanding justice for my death. If I chose him again in this life, I would literally be asking for a death sentence. “Peach, what do you mean by that?” “What do I mean? Do you really not understand?” I stared at him provocatively, making the hair on his arms stand up. My mom was also confused by my behavior. “William Vance. Let me jog your memory. Does the name Chloe Summers ring a bell?” My dad’s previously firm gaze instantly became evasive. “Who… who is that?” I sneered internally. Why is he pretending? 3 Chloe Summers was his college goddess. My dad chased her for four years and worshipped her for four years. After graduation, the Summers family refused to let them marry, forcing Chloe to marry into a wealthy, elite family instead. So, my dad, introduced by relatives, ended up marrying my mom. Years later, Chloe and her son were kicked out by that wealthy family with absolutely nothing. No one knew why. My dad, the ultimate simp, decisively stepped up to be the fallback guy. He subjected my mom to three years of severe emotional abuse and the silent treatment, forcing her to agree to a divorce so he could rush to marry Chloe. My mom might not have known the name Chloe Summers, but my dad certainly knew it better than anyone. “Peach, I know who she is. She’s your dad’s college classmate. I met her once when I went to pick your dad up from a college reunion. Let’s not bring up irrelevant people. Let’s just go home!” My mom tried to pull me away, but I wasn’t about to let my dad off the hook that easily. After today, I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. If I didn’t make him squirm a little, it would be an insult to my tragic death in my past life. “Mom! Are you blind? Chloe Summers is his first love and his mistress!” My mom froze, but she didn’t look surprised. “You knew?” I always thought my mom was uneducated, slow-witted, and completely oblivious to my dad’s affairs. “Then why did you endure it for three years?” Three years of the silent treatment! My dad came home less than twenty times a year. When he did, he would just pack a few clothes, shove two thousand dollars into my hand, and rush back out the door. “Peach, Mom didn’t want you to be sad, so I kept it a secret. I didn’t want you to know your father was that kind of person. I didn’t want you to grow up with an inferiority complex.” “So, you suffered for three years… for me? “Just to maintain the illusion of a happy family, you lied to yourself like that?” My mom looked a little guilty under my stare, her hands clasped together, nervously rubbing her fingers. 4 Honestly, what right did I have to judge my mom?! In my past life, I was such a rebellious brat. Whenever my mom sat up late under the desk lamp, looking heartbroken, I called her dramatic and said she was just bored because she didn’t have a job. When my dad hung up on her countless times, I would make snide comments, saying she was a failure as a woman because she couldn’t even keep her own man. Whenever my mom left the house, it was never for more than an hour—just quick trips to the supermarket or the grocery store downstairs. But my dad? When he left, it was for a week minimum. He went to Dubai for business trips, he attended conferences at the World Trade Center… he was so important! I expressed more than once that Dad was way more important than Mom. So, my mom enduring three years without asking for a divorce… was truly entirely because of me! Thinking about this, I wanted to slap myself across the face. I looked at my dad, unable to suppress a cold laugh. “William Vance, do you see now?! Mom and I both knew about you screwing around! “Think about how arrogant and smug you were acting in that courtroom just now. Isn’t it hilarious? You looked like an absolute clown!” My dad was already feeling guilty. Hearing me lay it all out stripped him of his usual intimidating aura. He stood frozen in place, looking like a deflated balloon. 5 I linked arms with my mom, turned around, and hailed a cab to go home. “Peach, I’m so sorry. Because of me, you won’t be able to live in the big house anymore.” My mom looked at me guiltily, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Your dad bought that house before we got married. The law protects pre-marital assets now. I couldn’t get a single piece of it.” I comforted her, telling her it was fine. We could rent an apartment. Even though she didn’t have a college degree, she was incredibly skilled at making handicrafts. I could help her start a social media channel. We definitely wouldn’t starve. But I still felt a knot of anger in my chest. My dad cheated during the marriage; he was clearly at fault! But in the end, he didn’t lose a single thing. He kept the house and the cars. Mom and I walked away with absolutely nothing but child support. And that child support would end the second I turned eighteen. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Sensing my frustration, my mom said, “Proving infidelity is incredibly difficult, especially since your dad is resourceful and hid his mistress very well. Why did he give me the silent treatment instead of just asking for a divorce? He wanted to drag it out until I was completely emotionally drained, so he could eventually file for divorce citing ‘long-term separation’.” “I know. But Mom, don’t worry. I am confident that even though we didn’t get those assets, I will never, ever let him and Chloe’s family enjoy them in peace.” My mom smiled and said, “Alright! I have two working hands. I won’t let you suffer.” “Yeah! The best days for us girls are still ahead!” My mom happily started packing our bags. There was a sense of profound relief and joy radiating from her. But not me. In a corner she couldn’t see, I glared at my parents’ wedding photo on the wall, my face contorted with dark, vicious hatred. My mom didn’t know what I went through in my past life, and I didn’t want to tell her. In this life, she had let it go. But I would never easily let William Vance and his pathetic new family off the hook. 6 A few days later, I gathered all the necessary documents and went to the police station to legally change my last name. My mom said I didn’t actually need to go this far. Even though they were divorced, the blood relation between me and my dad couldn’t be severed. But I was adamant about changing it. His last name disgusted me. Just as I finished filling out the application form, I saw two familiar faces walk in. “What a small world. Is this the only police station in the entire city?” The voice was sickeningly sweet and coquettish. It was Chloe Summers. She walked in arm-in-arm with my dad. When she saw me, she dramatically rolled her eyes. My dad asked, “Peach, what are you guys doing here?” I waved the name-change application form in my hand and said, “Changing my last name, obviously. I explicitly stated this in court.” Hearing this, my dad’s face immediately darkened. “Do you have to take things to such extremes? I let your mother down, yes, but how did I ever let you down? Why do you insist on changing your last name?” “Why? Because it feels dirty!” I glanced at the hand Chloe had wrapped around my dad’s arm. A massive diamond ring was already sparkling on her finger. I remembered when my mom first married my dad, he was just a broke kid. Forget a diamond ring; their entire wedding was incredibly bare-bones. My dad promised that once he made it big, he would definitely buy her a proper wedding ring. Yet here I was, fourteen years old, and I had never seen this legendary “Emperor’s Diamond Ring.” One time, my mom finally brought it up, but my dad immediately shut her down with a few harsh words. “You don’t even work! Do you have any idea how much a diamond ring costs? Does my money grow on trees? “Besides, you’re a housewife doing chores all day. Wearing a ring would be inconvenient anyway!” My mom didn’t argue, and she never brought up the wedding ring ever again. 7 “The ink on the divorce decree isn’t even dry yet, and you’ve already got the wedding ring on. Dad, exactly how desperate are you? Can’t go a single day without a woman in your bed?” My dad looked incredibly uncomfortable, but Chloe snapped back first: “You’re only fourteen! Where did you learn such filthy language?! You act like a little street thug!” “Shut your mouth!” My mom stepped forward, blocking me. “A homewrecking mistress has no right to lecture my daughter!” My mom intentionally said the word “mistress” very loudly, drawing the attention of quite a few people in the busy station lobby. I saw my dad tug on Chloe’s hand. He was somewhat of a public figure in this city, and he clearly didn’t want to make a scene. Unfortunately for him, I absolutely did. I was just a fourteen-year-old girl right now. I had nothing to be afraid of. I immediately activated my Oscar-worthy acting skills and started bawling in the middle of the lobby. “Dad! Your mistress is yelling at me! Did you give her permission to do that?! “I thought my dad, William Vance, was a real man who stood tall and protected his family! But you’re just standing here letting your mistress bully your wife and daughter in a police station!” I screamed my dad’s full name as loudly as I could, and surprisingly, a man in the lobby actually recognized him. “Oh hey, isn’t this CEO Vance?” Seeing this, my dad had to force a calm expression and greet the man. The man looked at my mom standing next to me, then looked at Chloe standing next to my dad. His expression was incredibly complicated, but he still walked toward my mom. “Mrs. Vance, are you here running errands with the kid?” My mom engaged in polite, elegant small talk with the man. Her demeanor was graceful and poised—she didn’t look at all like the stereotype of a housewife who only knew how to do chores. My dad also joined the conversation, discussing some business matters with the man, completely leaving Chloe hanging on the side. I shot a sideways glance at Chloe. Her face was cycling between green and white. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. 8 In my past life, I lived with my dad and had to live under the same roof as Chloe. She constantly criticized me. She complained that I only picked the meat out of the dishes at dinner, she complained that I used too much toilet paper, she complained that I didn’t tutor her son with his homework. She said, “Peach Vance, can’t you see? In this house, you are the outsider.” Now, she was the one who was the unwanted outsider. “William, they called our number.” Chloe tugged on my dad’s sleeve, and the two of them walked to the counter under the contemptuous stares of everyone around them. I remembered my dad came to the police station to update the marital status on his household registry document. He had to change it to “Divorced” before he could legally marry Chloe. In my past life, I threw tantrums for days over this and even hid his registry document just to stop them from getting married. That made Chloe hate me with a burning passion, which led her to hire human traffickers to sell me into the mountains. This time, how could I let them get what they wanted so easily? I picked up my iced coffee, popped the lid off, and slowly walked up behind my dad. The exact moment my dad opened the registry booklet and presented the page to the clerk, I deliberately “tripped” and splashed the entire cup of coffee directly onto it. Then, amidst the gasps of the crowd, I frantically used my sleeve to “wipe” the coffee stains off the page. But I rubbed it incredibly hard, scrubbing the official document until it dissolved into a soggy, pulpy mess of wet paper. My dad roared, “Peach Vance, are you crazy?!” I replied coldly, “Watch your phrasing. My name is now Peach Sterling.” “You did that on purpose?!” “Of course!” My dad raised his hand, fully intending to slap me, but my mom reached out and blocked it mid-air. My mom gripped his wrist. He twisted and pulled for a long time but surprisingly couldn’t break free at all. “William Vance, never underestimate the physical strength of a stay-at-home mom. Especially a woman who has to carry a child and mop the floors every single day. Her arm strength is terrifying.” With a sharp flick of her wrist, my mom shoved William back several steps. The clerk yelled, “Hey, hey, hey! This is a police station! No fighting in here!” William quickly asked the clerk if he could get a replacement registry document, but was told the printer was out of official paper and he would have to wait until tomorrow. Chloe stomped her feet in frustration. Even though she desperately wanted to go crazy, she was intimidated by my mom’s presence and didn’t dare lay a hand on me. Seeing her expression made me want to laugh. “What’s wrong, Auntie Mistress? Are you in that much of a hurry? You finally managed to push out the original wife, and now you’re terrified that delaying your marriage license by one day will ruin your master plan?” Chloe muttered a few more curses before my dad dragged her away. After they were out of earshot, my mom finally asked me, “Peach, what was the point of doing that?” I knew full well that doing that was essentially useless. Even if I stole the document, I couldn’t stop those two scumbags from getting married. All I wanted to do was draw Chloe’s aggro. I needed her to view me as a massive threat so she would resort to the same drastic measures against me as she did in my past life. 9 A month later, I officially became Peach Sterling. Shedding the “Vance” name felt like taking a breath of fresh air. It was liberating. Calculating the timeline, today was the exact day Chloe would make her move. Today also happened to be her son Leo’s birthday. In my past life, when the three of them celebrated his birthday, I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I asked my dad for some money, planning to eat out and come home late. Before my dad could even reach for his wallet, Chloe surprisingly jumped in, enthusiastically shoving a hundred-dollar bill into my hand. Smiling brightly, she told me to treat my classmates and that it was perfectly fine if I came home late. Whenever things are unnaturally perfect, there’s always a demon lurking behind the scenes. And just like that, I got kidnapped. This time, I was fully prepared. I wasn’t afraid of whatever tricks she had up her sleeve. I told my mom in advance that I was going to a classmate’s house after school to do homework, so she shouldn’t wait up for me for dinner. I also deliberately called my dad to ask for allowance money. Chloe, you better be smart about this. I practically handed you the perfect opportunity on a silver platter. You absolutely must make your move. After school, I slipped something into the deepest inner pocket of my jacket and started wandering the streets. Small alleys, dark side streets… wherever it was dark, I went. Wherever it was deserted, I slipped in. Finally, the pair of dark hands I had been eagerly anticipating arrived. Two men clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me toward a waiting van. I put up a token struggle for a few seconds, then found a comfortable position and let them restrain me. Once in the van, the three traffickers started chatting. “Boss, I feel like something isn’t right.” “What’s not right?” “This little girl was way too easy to grab.” “That bitch said this kid is only fourteen. How hard could she possibly be to grab?” Two of the traffickers glanced back at me. I quickly stifled a yawn and continued to perform my best impression of a terrified, trembling victim.

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My mother was in the hospital, and a crisis at the office was screaming for my attention. I begged my husband, Logan, to take a meal to her. He didn’t even look up from his phone. “She’s your mother, Riley. Why is it my job to play delivery boy?” I practically got on my knees, swallowing my pride until he finally, begrudgingly, gave a stiff nod. When I finally sprinted back to the hospital, heart hammering against my ribs, I found my mother alone. Logan was nowhere to be found. He’d simply ordered DoorDash and left it at the nurses’ station. My mother, still weak and unable to feed herself, had sat there while her blood sugar plummeted to dangerous levels. Even then, she squeezed my hand, her voice a thin reed. “Don’t fight with him because of me, honey. He’s just… a busy man. Men have their own burdens.” A week later, she was discharged. Afraid of being a “burden” to our marriage, she refused my invitation to recover at our place. She took a bus back to her quiet house in the suburbs, alone. That same evening, my mother-in-law, Martha, was admitted for a routine procedure. Logan leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes searching mine with a sudden, needy intensity. “The doctor says Mom needs surgery. You’ll need to take a week off to look after her. You’re better at the hospital stuff anyway.” I felt a cold, sharp laugh bubble up in my chest, though my face remained a mask. My mother was an inconvenience. His mother was “our” mother. If he wanted the lines drawn so clearly, I decided right then to give him exactly what he asked for. 1 My mother hadn’t wanted the surgery. I’d forced her into it. I’d watched my father ignore the small aches until they became the cancer that took him, and I refused to let history repeat itself. On the first day of her hospitalization, Logan actually showed up. My mother looked at him like he was a visiting saint. She struggled to sit up, gesturing for him to take the only comfortable chair, offering him the fruit I’d just peeled for her. He stayed for ten minutes. By the time I returned from speaking with the surgeon, the chair was empty. I called him. “Where are you?” “Work’s blowing up, Riley. You’ve got this handled.” I hesitated, my voice trembling. “Logan, I’m an only child. I don’t have a sister to tag in. I need you here for the night shift so I can close my eyes for an hour.” Before we married, he’d promised my parents he’d be the son they never had. Now, his voice was tight with irritation. “Being a companion isn’t hard work. The nurses do the heavy lifting. I’ve got too much on my plate. I’ll try to stop by later, okay?” He didn’t. For the next two days, I was a ghost. During the day, I pushed my mother’s wheelchair through sterile corridors for pre-op tests. At night, I dozed in a plastic chair, waking every time she stirred. My body felt like it was made of lead. On the day of the surgery, Logan appeared again. I was helping the nurse slide my mother back onto the bed, her face pale and slack from the anesthesia. I felt a surge of relief—surely, he was here to take over. “I have a massive board meeting today,” he said, adjusting his cuffs. “Tie my tie for me? I can never get the Windsor knot right.” That was why he was here. Not for my mother. Not for me. For a knot in a piece of silk. As I looped the fabric around his neck, I kept my voice low. “I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours, Logan. Can you please stay tonight? Just one night.” He frowned, looking at his reflection over my shoulder. “I’m a guy, Riley. It’s awkward for me to help your mom with… you know, the bathroom stuff.” I went still. Part of me—the part that had been conditioned to be the “good wife”—actually thought, Maybe he’s right. He glanced at my sleeping mother, checked his watch, and walked out without a second look. That night was the longest of my life. As the morphine wore off, the pain flared. My mother didn’t want to wake me, so she suffered in silence, her hospital gown soaked through with cold sweat. When I realized what was happening, the guilt hit me like a physical blow. I didn’t close my eyes again. By day six, my mother finally regained a bit of appetite. She whispered that she wanted a specific chicken soup from a deli across town. I was halfway out the door when my boss called. A file was missing—a massive contract—and I was the only one who knew the filing system. My mother gripped my wrist. “Go,” she rasped. “Your job matters, Riley.” Torn and desperate, I called Logan. I begged. I pleaded. “I told you, I’m busy,” he snapped. “Busy doing what?” I yelled, the fatigue finally breaking my filter. “What is so important that you can’t bring a bowl of soup to my mother?” “I’ll be blunt,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “She’s your mother. Why are you always making her my problem?” My hand shook so hard I almost dropped the phone. I hung up. Ten minutes later, he called back, sounding bored. “Fine. I’ll get the soup. But tell her I can’t stay.” I told him she needed help eating. She couldn’t hold a spoon yet. When I finally finished at the office and raced back to the hospital, I found my mother grey-faced. The nurse was hanging a glucose drip. “Her blood sugar crashed,” the nurse said, her eyes judging. “No one fed her.” On the bedside table sat a cold plastic container of soup from a random takeout joint. No Logan. He’d just dropped it and left. I picked up the container and threw it into the trash can. The thud echoed in the silent room. My mother reached for my sleeve. “Don’t fight with him, Riley. He’s just focused on providing for your future.” Tears burned my eyes. She was dying of neglect in a hospital bed and still worrying about my marriage. I had to step out into the hallway just to breathe. I wiped my face, went downstairs, and bought a warm, soft porridge. I fed her myself, one spoonful at a time, until she drifted off. Finally, she was well enough to leave. When I checked the bill, the insurance coverage was better than expected. She only owed a few thousand dollars. She clutched the receipt, a tiny smile on her lips. “Good. I didn’t drag you down too much.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. No matter how much I begged her to stay with us, she insisted on going home. She didn’t want to “intrude.” I watched her through the window of the Greyhound bus, her small hand waving until the bus turned the corner. I stood on the sidewalk and let the tears fall. I went home and crashed into a deep, dreamless sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to Logan’s phone blaring. He sat bolt upright, his face turning ashen. “Riley, wake up. It’s Mom. She’s in the ER.” 2 Outside the OR, Logan was a wreck. He paced the floor, his breathing shallow, looking like a lost child. In spite of everything, I tried to comfort him. I offered him water. I sat beside him. Then, he grabbed my hand, his grip bruising. “You need to take the week off work. You have experience with the hospital routine now. You know how to talk to the doctors. Mom will recover so much faster with you looking after her.” He added, “I’ll help you, of course.” Help me? The phrasing stung. As if Martha was my primary responsibility and he was just a volunteer. I opened my mouth to argue, but then the “Surgery in Progress” light flickered, and I swallowed my words. The surgery was a success. Martha was awake by the afternoon, though she was tethered to a catheter and couldn’t move. The moment she was moved to a ward, Logan’s father, Arthur, marched in with ten relatives in tow. They acted like they were at a tailgate party, loud and oblivious. The nurse eventually pulled me aside and told me to clear them out. When I asked Arthur to lower his voice, he huffed. “Some people have no respect for family,” he muttered loudly to a cousin. The other patients in the room were glaring at us. I felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up my neck and stepped out into the hall. Inside, I heard someone ask who was staying for the night. Logan’s cousin spoke up, her voice matter-of-fact. “Riley will stay, obviously. It’s her mother-in-law. Who else would do it?” No one questioned it. Not even Logan. It was the natural order of things in their world: the daughter-in-law serves. Logan was a “man”; he didn’t do “caregiving.” Eventually, the circus moved on. Logan told me he was taking the relatives out to dinner. “Can’t have them coming all this way on an empty stomach,” he said. After they left, a nurse gave me a dizzying list of instructions. I took notes, pushing down the simmering resentment. This was Martha’s health, after all. Logan returned late with a bland hospital meal for his mother. He didn’t bring anything for me. My head started to spin. My own blood sugar was dipping. I had to ask the lady in the next bed for a piece of toast just to keep from fainting. Logan looked briefly guilty and went out to buy a “Deluxe Combo” from the cafeteria. “Here, Riley. Eat up.” I’d barely taken two bites when Martha started calling out. She was itchy. She was thirsty. She was uncomfortable. By the time I settled her, my food was cold and my appetite was dead. The doctors needed an hourly log of her urine output. It was critical for tracking her kidney function. I found Logan on the small cot. “You need to help me with the log tonight. I can’t stay awake another twenty-four hours.” Guilt-tripped by his earlier forgotten meal, he actually agreed. Two hours later, Logan was snoring so loudly it shook the walls. I tried to shake him awake, but he just groaned and rolled over. I could have left it. I could have let the log stay empty. But I couldn’t do that to Martha. I stayed awake all night, measuring, recording, and watching the clock. The next morning, Martha woke up to find her “devoted” son sitting by her bed, while I had finally collapsed into a ten-minute nap on the chair. Her voice was sharp with disapproval. “Since when does the nurse sleep longer than the patient?” 3 My head was throbbing with a migraine. I’d slept for maybe thirty minutes total. I told Logan I was going home to shower and change, and that he needed to stay. Martha, looking much more energetic, called out as I reached for my bag. “Riley, I’m feeling so sticky. Could you give me a sponge bath before you go?” I looked at Logan. He looked at the ceiling. “I’m a guy, Mom. It wouldn’t be right.” Fine. I dragged my exhausted body to the basin, filled it with warm water, and scrubbed her down. I finally made it home and collapsed onto the bed. Ten minutes later, my phone rang. Logan couldn’t find the nebulizer. I told him where it was and hung up. Ten minutes later: How do you hook up the oxygen flow? Ten minutes later: Where did the nurse put the charts? In three hours, he called me ten times. My migraine intensified until I was nauseated. Finally, he whined, “Riley, I really can’t handle this. You need to come back.” When I walked into that hospital room, Logan looked at me like I was a life raft. Martha immediately waved him away. “Go on, honey. Riley’s here now. Go back to the office; I know how important your work is.” Logan patted my shoulder. “Thanks, babe. My boss has been riding me all morning. I’ll leave Mom in your capable hands.” The second the door closed behind him, Martha’s face contorted. “Quick! Get the bedpan!” She’d been holding it. She’d waited for her son to leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with the “unpleasantness” of her bodily functions. She was a “good mother”—she shielded her son from the reality of illness, while using me as a human shield. The smell was overwhelming. I looked at the mess, the stained sheets, the bedpan, and I actually gagged. Martha took offense instantly. “Riley! I’m your mother. How can you be so heartless?” I’m your mother. Logan’s voice echoed in my head: She’s your mother. Why are you always making her my problem? The room started to spin. I walked out into the hallway, fumbling for my phone. A professional-looking woman in scrubs—a private health aide—was walking by. 4 By the time I walked back in, the aide had cleaned everything up with practiced efficiency. She saw the state I was in and put a hand on my arm. “You look like you’re about to break, sweetie,” she said. “I do this for a living. If you need a break, here’s my card.” I was mid-sentence, asking about her hourly rate, when Martha shrieked. “No! I don’t want a stranger touching me! I want my family!” She glared at me, her eyes wet with staged tears. “You’d do it for your own mother, but for me, you want to hire a servant? You’re so unfilial!” The woman in the next bed chimed in. “She’s right, dear. It’s a bit selfish, isn’t it?” I turned to Martha. “I’ve been awake for days. I am physically failing. This woman is a professional. She knows how to do this better than I do.” “It’s a waste of money!” Martha barked. “You just don’t care about me. When I took care of my mother-in-law, I didn’t sleep for two weeks. We didn’t even have these fancy cots back then. Young women today are so soft. You can’t handle the slightest bit of hardship.” I realized then: this wasn’t about care. It was about power. She had suffered under her mother-in-law, and now she wanted her turn to hold the whip. I stood at the foot of the bed, my voice ice-cold. “Do you know how many times Logan came to help when my mother was in this same hospital last week?” Martha paused, then sniffed. “Logan is a son-in-law. It’s a miracle he went at all. You can’t expect a man to do nurse’s work.” “He didn’t even stay to feed her,” I said. “He sent DoorDash.” “He’s a provider!” Martha snapped. “He’s out there making a living. Why would he waste his time wiping tables?” Where was that money, though? He hadn’t spent a dime on my mother’s care. I looked at her—her entitlement, her casual cruelty—and I saw Logan. The apple hadn’t just fallen near the tree; it was rooted in the same bitter soil. I had spent our entire marriage believing that if I were the “perfect” daughter-in-law, Logan would eventually see my worth. That he would step up when my family needed him. I was a fool. To him, his mother was “our” responsibility. My mother was mine alone. I pulled out my phone and sent Logan a text. [Your mother, your problem. I’m done.]

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The silence that follows a lost pregnancy isn’t just quiet; it’s heavy. It’s a physical weight that presses against your lungs until you’re convinced you’ll never draw a full breath again. After the miscarriage, I didn’t just fall into depression; I drowned in it. The darkest night was when I found myself in the bathroom, the cold edge of a kitchen knife pressed against the pulse in my neck. Grant didn’t scream. He didn’t call 911. Instead, he simply picked up another blade, held it to his own throat, and offered a twisted, tragic smile. “If you go, June, I’m going with you. I’ll be right behind you in the dark.” Because of those words, I fought. I dragged myself back from the ledge a thousand times, clinging to the idea that our love was a tether strong enough to keep us both grounded. Until today. We were walking out of the clinic, and a wave of nausea hit me so hard I began to retch. I reached for Grant’s hand, seeking the anchor I’d relied on for a decade. But he didn’t hold me. He let go, his fingers slipping away as if I were something contagious. He let out a sharp, jagged laugh. “Physical symptoms again? Honestly, June, give it a rest.” I froze, wiping my mouth, my eyes stinging. “Grant?” “It’s been five years since we lost that baby,” he said, his voice cold, devoid of the warmth that used to be my sanctuary. “You’ve turned our life into a funeral march. Meanwhile, Valerie went to the most dangerous corners of the world just to clear her conscience for what happened, and she never uttered a single complaint.” The name hit me like a physical blow. Valerie. Our former house manager—the woman who had been a shadow in our home before the tragedy. “What are you talking about?” I whispered, a sickening dread pooling in my stomach. He climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door with a finality that made me flinch. He looked relieved, like a man who had finally shed a heavy coat. “It means I’m done. I’m going back for her.” My hand tightened around the small, crumpled paper in my pocket. The surprise I had been trembling to tell him—the tiny flicker of hope the doctor had just confirmed—would stay hidden. It seemed there was no longer a home for it to come back to. 1 Tears tracked down my face, turning icy in the wind whipping through the half-open window. Grant reached over, his thumb brushing a stray drop away with a tenderness that felt like a mockery. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I’m being honest with you. You should be happy I’m not lying anymore.” He let out a soft, mirthless chuckle. “Since we’re laying it all out, you should know the truth. Five days ago, when I told you I was on a business trip in San Francisco? I wasn’t. I was with her. We spent the night under the stars in Big Sur.” The world tilted on its axis. I remembered that night. I had fainted from exhaustion and stress, waking up in an ER bed. When Grant finally showed up, his eyes were bloodshot, his face haggard. I thought he had been driving all night, frantic with worry for me. I had held his hand and promised him—swore to him—that I would stay strong, that I wouldn’t do anything reckless. I thought he was suffering with me. But he had been tangled in the sheets with another woman. “After you got sick, my entire life started revolving around your grief,” he continued, eyes fixed on the road. “But Valerie has been out there, alone, suffering in silence for so long. I can’t turn my back on her anymore.” The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely speak. “So why tell me this now? Why kill me like this?” His hand paused on my cheek. “She’s too good for her own sake. She doesn’t want to take your place, but I won’t let her live in the shadows like some dirty secret. You’re still my wife, June. But she’s going to be part of my life, too. I want her in the light.” I looked at him, my heart literally bleeding. “And if I don’t accept that?” He laughed, a short, dismissive sound that told me my consent was an afterthought. “The house, the cars, the accounts—take your pick. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. I’ll even keep her out of your sight if that’s what it takes. But a divorce? Don’t even dream of it.” I stared at his profile, his jaw set with the arrogance of a man who owned everything, including me. I felt like I was suffocating. We had been together since we were kids. He was my entire world. When people mocked me for being the “illegitimate daughter” of a disgraced family, Grant was the one who threw the first punch to defend me. When we had nothing, I worked three jobs, coming home with a fever so high I nearly developed myocarditis, just so he could have the seed money for his first startup. When he finally made it, he told me to quit. “You have me now,” he’d said, his eyes full of a devotion I thought was unbreakable. “I never want you to suffer again. Trust me.” I did. I believed in the version of him that loved only me. He just forgot to mention that his heart was now an open floor plan. I gripped the hem of my coat, wanting to believe this was a nightmare. I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the ultrasound photo. Maybe if he saw this… maybe if he knew… But before I could pull it out, his phone buzzed. “Grant… I shouldn’t be calling,” Valerie’s voice came through the Bluetooth, thick with tears and a practiced vulnerability. “My car broke down on the shoulder of the highway… I don’t know what to do…” I reached for his arm, a silent plea. Grant didn’t even look at me. “Don’t be scared,” he told her, his voice dropping into that protective register that used to belong to me. “I’m coming. Stay inside and lock the doors.” He didn’t offer another explanation. He just pulled over to the curb and said two words. “Get out.” The weight of those words hit me harder than any blow. “Grant,” I choked out, “have you forgotten how we lost our first child? Have you forgotten what she did?” 2 The air in the car turned frigid. Grant didn’t flinch. “June, that was an accident. Move on.” I sat there, stunned. I could almost taste the herbal tea she had “accidentally” brewed for me back then—the one filled with ingredients that triggered my contractions. I could still feel the phantom fire in my abdomen. “It wasn’t an accident,” I hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “She did it on pur—” He shoved my hand away. “Enough with the theatrics. Valerie is waiting.” He practically dragged me out of the car. I stood on the sidewalk, shivering as he sped away, the taillights disappearing into the gray Seattle mist. The cramps started then. A dull, rhythmic throbbing that sent me stumbling back toward the clinic. The doctor’s face was grim an hour later. Between the years of chronic depression and the sudden physical and emotional trauma, the pregnancy was non-viable. This baby—the one I had prayed for, the one I thought was a miracle—was gone before I could even name it. The old grief returned, a familiar monster. I tried calling Grant, my hands shaking so hard I dropped the phone twice. All I got was his voicemail. Over and over. When I finally caught a cab home, I saw his car in the underground garage. He wasn’t alone. “Grant, I lied to you… I just wanted to see if you’d really come,” Valerie was whispering inside the car. She leaned in, her lips finding his. I watched his throat move as he swallowed, his resolve crumbling as he kissed her back with a hunger that broke what was left of me. They were frantic, tearing at each other. My eyes landed on the blue-and-white silk tie wrapped around Valerie’s wrist. It was the one I’d bought him for our tenth anniversary. The world felt like it was liquefying beneath my feet. I screamed—a raw, primal sound—and began pounding on the car window. The door opened, and I lunged for Valerie, my hand raised to strike. But Grant caught my wrist, his grip like a vice. “June! If you want to hit someone, hit me. But you will not touch her.” Valerie cowered behind him, her eyes flashing with a hidden, triumphant gleam. “How can you do this?” I sobbed, my voice cracking. “How can you look at her and not see our dead child?” Grant looked at me, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of regret. Then, he let out a cold, mocking laugh. “June, was that even my kid?” The world went silent. My brain felt like it had short-circuited. “You were working at that lounge back then,” he said, his voice dripping with a newfound cruelty. “Who knows whose it was? I was too poor to care at the time, so I didn’t blame you.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at my own reflection in the side mirror—pale, disheveled, a ghost of the woman I used to be. “I gave you my name. I gave you a life. I didn’t care that you carried someone else’s mistake. But this constant drama? I’m bored of it.” “You don’t believe me?” I whispered. He didn’t answer. He just looked at the fresh hickey on his neck and pushed me aside. I lost my balance, my shoulder slamming into the side mirror. The glass shattered, the shards slicing through my coat and into my skin. He didn’t even check on me. “Another stunt?” he sighed. “June, if you keep this up, I won’t have any affection left for you at all.” He drove away with her. I stood in the dark, watching the exhaust fumes fade. I started to laugh, a jagged sound that turned into a sob. I picked up a piece of the broken mirror, the edge sharp and inviting, and pressed it deep into my wrist. 3 In the haze of blood loss, I drifted back to the night I met him. He was working bar-back at a dive in the city, and I was the “trashy” illegitimate daughter some prep-school elites had brought along to humiliate. He was the one who broke a bottle over a table when they started saying things no girl should hear. He grabbed my hand and we ran through the snow, laughing. “Don’t be afraid,” he had said, looking back at me with eyes full of fire. He gave me the only warmth I’d ever known. But that fire cost us everything. He lost his job; I lost my place in my family’s shadow. We lived in a condemned apartment, huddled together under thin blankets. He promised me a home. When he collapsed from exhaustion working construction and couldn’t get paid, I bit my tongue and took a job at an exclusive lounge. High-end, “bottle service,” where the tips were fast if you could handle the sharks. I’m allergic to alcohol—severely. But I forced myself to down drinks with clients to hit my quotas, just to pay Grant’s hospital bills. I’d come home shaking, covered in hives, and he would just hold me, his eyes red with unspoken guilt. We moved cities. We fought for every inch of success. I played the “hostess,” smoothing his path with the connections I made in the nightlife. And then came Valerie. He brought her in as a house manager to help me during my first pregnancy. I was naive. I missed the way her fingers brushed his when she served him coffee. I missed the longing in her gaze. Until the night I saw them. A kiss in the hallway. We nearly destroyed the house that night. He cried. He knelt at my feet and begged. “It was a moment of weakness, June. I love you. We have a baby coming. Please.” Valerie knelt too, claiming she was obsessed, begging not to be fired because she had nowhere to go. I was soft. I let her stay in the guest house. He stayed away from her after that. Or so I thought. But his phone would light up in the dead of night. Months of texts from her—unanswered, but not blocked. A silent permission for her to keep loving him. The night I finally broke and smashed his phone, I went into early labor. The tea Valerie brought me—the “soothing” tea—ended everything. I wanted her gone. I wanted her to pay. But Grant sent her away “for her own safety,” protecting her from my wrath. The betrayal became a thorn in our marriage. We stopped being intimate. The second pregnancy was a miracle I fought for. And now, it was over. I woke up in a hospital bed, the familiar emptiness in my womb more painful than the stitches in my wrist. I felt nothing but a cold, dead numbness. I picked up my phone and sent one message. Grant, I want a divorce. 4 I waited for days at our empty house. No reply. Instead, I got a video from an unknown number. A field of roses. Grant on one knee, sliding a massive diamond onto Valerie’s finger. I looked down at the tarnished silver band hanging from a chain around my neck. We were so poor when we got “married” that we bought it at a flea market. He had looked into my eyes and promised me the world. “I’m going to replace this with the biggest diamond in the world one day, June. I’m going to tie you to me forever.” The diamonds came, but the promises evaporated. The front door opened. Valerie walked in, catching me staring at the old ring. She laughed. “June, honestly. Why are you still holding onto that trash? It’s pathetic.” She stepped closer, her eyes scanning my flat stomach. “No wonder he’s leaving. You can’t even keep a baby alive. You’re a cursed woman.” “Shut up!” I screamed. The grief boiled over. I lunged at her, grabbing her hair and slamming my hand across her face. She didn’t fight back. She just smirked. A second later, I was shoved aside so hard I hit the floor. “June! Are you insane? You’re acting like a goddamn lunatic!” Grant stood over me, his face twisted in disgust. I was shaking, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. He looked at my pale face and softened for a fraction of a second, reaching out. But Valerie beat him to it. She dropped to her knees in front of me, sobbing. “I’m so sorry, June! Hit me again if it makes you feel better! I’ll leave, I won’t take the ring, just please don’t hate him—” Grant’s face hardened. “You hit her over a ring? A piece of jewelry I bought for her?” “He’s my husband, Valerie,” I choked out. “June is just lonely, Grant,” Valerie sobbed. “She has no job, no kids… she’s bored.” Grant took a deep breath. “You’ve spent too much time in this house rotting. You need to get out. My firm has a dinner tonight with some high-stakes investors. You’re going. You’re going to be the charming ‘Mrs. Grant’ one last time and help me close this deal.” “She’s not well, Grant…” Valerie purred. “She can drink,” Grant said coldly. “Everyone knows June is the best at working a room. You’ve been ‘sick’ long enough. Get ready.” I looked at him, my voice a whisper. “Grant… the baby is gone. Truly gone this time.” He didn’t even blink. “How long are you going to use that excuse? One baby dies and you want the whole world to stop? People lose kids every day. Move on.” The words were a blade to the heart. “I’m taking Valerie on a trip,” he said, turning his back on me. “Decide what you want to do while I’m gone. But tonight, you go to that dinner.” I was forced into a dress and driven to a private lounge. The men there were vultures. They pushed drinks on me, their hands wandering. “I thought Mrs. Grant was a pro,” one of them sneered, pinning me against the booth. “Come on, one more shot.” “I’m allergic,” I gasped, struggling. “Grant said to give you the full experience,” the man whispered, his hand sliding up my thigh. “He said you liked it rough.” The humiliation was a tidal wave. As I fought him off, I felt a warm, terrifying gush of red. The surgical site from my miscarriage had torn. “Blood… she’s bleeding!” someone yelled. … Grant was at the airport, checking his phone. He was waiting for a call—a report from the bodyguards that I had behaved, that I was “broken in” again. But the call never came. He opened his messages and saw the one from three days ago. Grant, I want a divorce. And then, a new one from a blocked number: a photo of the lounge floor, covered in red.

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After the car crash, my adopted brother thought I had amnesia. He pointed at his best friend, Lucas Vance, and tried to mess with me: “This is your boyfriend.” In my past life, I immediately exposed his lie and continued to desperately cling to him. Eventually, I died a horrific death in a secret psychiatric facility where my adopted brother had locked me away. Three years after my death, a severely depressed Lucas Vance slit his wrists in front of my grave. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the car crash. This time, I walked straight up to Lucas and opened my arms: “Hubby, hug me.” Across the room, my adopted brother accidentally crushed the medicine bowl in his hand. The man standing in front of me, his eyes turning red, pulled me into his arms and answered in a hoarse voice: “Okay.” 1 The hospital room smelled strongly of disinfectant. My adopted brother, Arthur Miller, and his best friend, Lucas Vance, stood side-by-side in front of me. I shook my throbbing head, completely disoriented, feeling like the scene playing out before me couldn’t possibly be real. “Where am I? Who am I?” Arthur, assuming I had amnesia, eagerly pointed at Lucas, his eyes filled with mocking amusement. “You’re my sister, Mia Miller. And this is your boyfriend, Lucas Vance.” I looked at Lucas in shock. The man’s sharp, handsome features were cast downward, tinged with a deep loneliness. He intentionally avoided looking at me, but his gaze kept flickering back to me anyway. He looked like he was suppressing an agonizing amount of emotion. Just exactly like he did in my past life. 2 In my past life, I had been desperately, hopelessly in love with my adopted brother, Arthur, for years, clinging to him until he couldn’t stand it anymore. After the car accident, he mistakenly thought I had amnesia. Desperate to shake me off, he lied and told me Lucas was my boyfriend. Honestly, when I first woke up from the crash, I did have a brief moment of amnesia. But my memories returned very quickly. Faced with Arthur’s cruel joke, I didn’t think much of it. Instead, like a stubborn idiot, I immediately exposed his lie, desperate to prove my memory was intact. I tentatively grabbed the hem of Arthur’s shirt, tears welling in my eyes. “Brother, I don’t have amnesia. I’m not lying.” Arthur didn’t know what to do with me. He stiffly pulled me into his arms. Just like he had done every time I cried for the past five years. “I’m sorry, Mia. Brother made a mistake.” I was overjoyed, completely tossing that bizarre incident to the back of my mind. I went right back to clinging to Arthur like I always did. Since I was sixteen, I realized my feelings for my adopted brother were anything but platonic. Every time he got a new girlfriend, I would deliberately sabotage the relationship. The psychology books call it toxic possessiveness. I couldn’t deny it. And Arthur silently permitted my outrageous behavior. Many times, when I was dealing with those girlfriends, he was secretly pulling strings in the background to help me. He indulged my worst impulses, and he let me cling to him endlessly. Once, when I was blackout drunk, I threw my arms around him and demanded a kiss. He didn’t push me away. Instead, his body went completely rigid as he let me take whatever I wanted from him. Back then, I arrogantly assumed Arthur loved me back. But I ignored the most critical detail: he had never, ever verbally confessed his feelings for me. I held him and kissed him for a long time, until he suddenly jolted awake and shoved me away in absolute disgust, ordering me to get off him. Arthur wiped his swollen lips, a cruel, mocking smirk twisting his features. “Mia Miller, how could you possibly be in love with your own brother? You’re a sick freak.” I felt like I had been violently woken from a dream, like a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went stiff, paralyzed by agonizing shame. “I don’t. I don’t love you.” My voice grew quieter with every word. His sarcastic retort, however, was sharp and piercing. “You don’t love me, huh?” The raw disgust in his eyes carved out my heart piece by piece. I couldn’t answer. Deep down, in my most private thoughts, I did love Arthur. I was an orphan. My brother was the only person in the entire world who treated me well. How could I possibly not fall in love with him? Arthur, acting as if he had just uncovered my darkest, most depraved secret, looked at me with even deeper revulsion. “A sick freak like you belongs locked away in a psych ward to be ‘rehabilitated’.” 3 My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stared in shock at Arthur, who was smirking at me. He was looking back at me, the cruel amusement in his eyes completely undisguised. In that split second, goosebumps erupted all over my body, and I couldn’t suppress a violent shiver. I dug my nails so deeply into my palms that the sharp pain forced me to stay rational. I looked Arthur dead in the eye and answered, enunciating every single syllable: “I understand, Brother.” In this lifetime, I absolutely refused to let my life intertwine with his ever again. Everything between us ended the moment I died that horrific, agonizing death in my past life. The days in that psychiatric facility were a living hell. Arthur visited me once every two weeks. Unable to endure the daily beatings and electroshock therapy, I sobbed and begged him to let me out. I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left: “Brother, I was wrong! I’ll never love you again, I swear!” But every single time, Arthur would just stare down at me with cold, detached superiority, his voice devoid of a single drop of humanity. “Mia, it seems your illness is acting up again.” And with those words, the agonizing, unbearable torture would resume. I tried desperately to contact anyone I knew, begging them to save me. But Arthur had planned for everything. He had buried my existence so deep that absolutely no information ever leaked out. In just six short months, I was tortured to death. After I died, Arthur acted like a lunatic, clutching my corpse and refusing to let go. He said he regretted everything. He said he loved me. He sobbed endlessly, repeating his twisted logic and his deep-seated terror. Falling in love with his adopted sister would have made everyone look at him with disgust and suspicion. My soul stood right next to him, watching the entire spectacle with absolute, chilling apathy. I just wanted to vomit. Even now, just looking at Arthur made me physically nauseous. So, I immediately shifted my gaze to Lucas. I opened my arms to him, forcing down my tears, and said in my sweetest, most pathetic voice: “Hubby, hug me.” 4 CRASH! The sound of porcelain shattering in the hospital room was deafening. I slowly turned my head. Arthur’s palm was a bloody mess. The dark brown medicinal broth mixed with his blood, dripping onto the pristine floor. It was absolutely nauseating. He stood frozen, the cruel amusement entirely vanishing from his eyes. Replaced by an endless, burning fury. However, I had absolutely no interest in him right now. All of my attention was focused entirely on Lucas Vance. From the second the word “Hubby” left my lips, Lucas’s eyes had rapidly turned red. His body went rigid, and he looked up at me in pure shock. Confusion and overwhelming emotion battled in his eyes, eventually coalescing into a profound, violent tremor. His lips parted slightly, his voice thick and raspy. He took a few quick steps forward, pulled me tightly into his chest, and murmured low in my ear: “Okay.” Arthur clenched his bleeding fist, fresh blood bubbling up from the cuts. He coughed a few times, raised his injured left hand, and shoved it right in front of me. The metallic stench of blood made me gag. Lucas smoothly pulled me aside, unzipping his trench coat to wrap it securely around me. I peeked my head out from his chest, only for a warm hand to immediately cover my eyes. “Don’t look. It’s disgusting.” With that, Lucas positioned himself defensively in front of me, glaring furiously at Arthur. His disgust was palpable. “You know perfectly well she hates blood and pain, and you’re deliberately trying to make her sick?!” A strange, unfamiliar feeling bloomed in my chest. I pulled Lucas’s hand away and looked closely at his pale, handsome face. His features were immaculate, exactly as I remembered them. But looking closer, he seemed sharper, more aggressive than before. In my memories, Lucas had always been silent and reserved. This was the very first time I had ever seen him deliver such a ruthless, uncompromising reprimand. Arthur was clearly just as shocked. “None of your fucking business.” Arthur rolled his eyes and held his trembling, bloody hand out again. He looked like he was desperately waiting for my reaction. “Mia, I’m hurt.” If this were the past, I would have panicked, frantically searching for ointment, sobbing uncontrollably while I bandaged his hand. But now, I just shrank deeper into Lucas’s embrace, casting a look of pure disgust at his filthy, bloody hand. “Brother, there are doctors and nurses right outside. I don’t know how to treat a wound.” “You???” I cut him off, annoyed. “I’m tired. I want to go home.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught someone’s lips curving upward. He looked like a smug little puppy wagging its tail. 5 Physically, I was fine. The doctor said I just needed bed rest at home. Lucas absolutely refused to let me walk. He insisted on carrying me out of the hospital. Arthur’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. In that moment, he finally snapped. He grabbed my arm in a death grip. “Mia, didn’t you say you wanted to go home?” I pried his vice-like fingers off me, one by one. His grip left bright red marks on my skin. “I did. I’m going to my boyfriend’s house. Is there a problem with that, Brother?” “Mia Miller, you are going to regret this.” Arthur let out a self-deprecating laugh, practically growling the words through gritted teeth. Regret? My only regret was not realizing my own heart sooner. My only regret was being an absolute idiot in my past life, letting Arthur play me like a fiddle. Lucas carried me to his car and carefully buckled me in. He started the engine, slammed on the gas, and we sped away. For the entire drive, his large hand completely enveloped mine, never letting go for a single second. When we arrived at his place, I felt gross and sticky from the hospital and desperately wanted a bath. Lucas thoughtfully ran the bathwater for me. He pulled a brand-new, unopened bottle of essential oil from the cabinet. He opened it. It was my favorite scent: jasmine. Then, Lucas opened his massive walk-in closet and pulled out a set of loungewear still with the tags on. It fit me absolutely perfectly. I was genuinely confused. Lucas scratched the back of his neck, his face flushing red all the way to the tips of his ears. “I saw it when I was shopping, thought it would look good on you, so I just bought it.” “You ‘just bought’ all of this?” I pointed at the massive section of women’s clothing taking up more than half his closet. They were all brand new. And they were all from my favorite designer brands. “Don’t misunderstand, I was just… I just…” I blinked at him, waiting for the excuse. Lucas sighed heavily, his expression basically screaming, ‘Fine, the gig is up.’ “Is it a crime to buy clothes for my own girlfriend?” Was this really the insecure, sensitive Lucas I remembered? The guy who used to blush furiously if I so much as spoke two sentences to him? In my past life, right up until I died in that psychiatric ward, he and I barely interacted. It wasn’t until after I was dead that I finally glimpsed the sheer, overwhelming depth of Lucas’s love for me.

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After the ninety-ninth failed round of IVF, my husband, whose low sperm count was the official problem, spoke with a chilling coldness. “Isabelle is just so fertile. I touch her, and she gets pregnant. Unlike you.” He stood there, holding the hand of Isabelle, the imposter heiress who had been raised as my sister, and gave me three choices. One, I could turn a blind eye and continue playing the part of the CEO’s wife. Two, I could take ten million dollars and disappear. Three, I could leave with nothing. Everyone in the city knew how proud I was, how desperately I loved Vincent Ashwood. They expected a storm. They expected me to shatter with jealousy, to burn everything to the ground rather than accept defeat. But I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I calmly pushed the check back across the table. “Let the child call me ‘Mother.’ I’ll continue to be a good Mrs. Ashwood.” After all, this was my third rebirth. 1 In my first life, I chose to walk away with my pride and nothing else. In the second, I swallowed that pride and took the ten million. Both paths led to a horrific end. So, in this third life, I figured the three of us could just make it work. It would be a tight squeeze, but we’d manage. Vincent’s handsome face froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Audrina, you’re actually willing to accept another woman carrying my child?” I reached out and straightened the collar of his shirt, my touch making his jaw tighten. I offered him a perfectly gentle, perfectly composed smile. “After all these years, after all the needles and the hormones and the agony of one failed procedure after another… wasn’t the goal for you to have a child? Now that my dear Isabelle has helped us, why on earth would I object?” Isabelle’s pretty face went pale. She bit her lip, the fury in her eyes practically spilling over. She must have pictured me screaming, clawing, a hysterical mess. She never imagined I’d be applauding. “Audrina, I thought you’d be furious,” she stammered. “I didn’t expect… Anyone would think you don’t love Vincent anymore.” Vincent’s sharp gaze shot to me. I just smiled and patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. There are many ways to love. Learning to love what he loves is just one of them.” In my first life, I had chosen to leave with nothing. Too proud to take his dirty money. But what could a housewife, detached from the professional world for years, possibly do? I couldn’t even land a decent clerical job. I ended up in a dingy apartment, chewing on stale bread, living a miserable existence. Even then, Isabelle wouldn’t let me be. She arranged a “car accident” that ended my life. In my second life, I learned my lesson. I took the ten million. I thought it was my ticket to a new beginning. But without connections or resources, starting a business was a nightmare. The one time I found a seemingly reliable partner, it was a trap. The night I was cornered on a rooftop by debt collectors, I heard Isabelle’s mocking laughter through a jumbled phone call. “Vincent never had a fertility problem. He’d been slipping her birth control pills all along. He only married her to get her family’s investment in the Ashwood Corporation. Now that she’s useless, did she really think she could just start over? Of course she had to die.” When I opened my eyes again, I decided to just give up fighting. They were a match made in hell, a bitch and a dog. How could I possibly tear them apart? The three of us would be perfectly cozy together. My magnanimity clearly threw Vincent off balance. He frowned, studying me with a confused expression, but his words were a warning. “Then you’d better play the part of Mrs. Ashwood well. If you dare lay a hand on Isabelle, don’t blame me for being merciless.” I gave him a sweet, brilliant smile and immediately got to work. “Isabelle can’t be traveling back and forth in her condition. She can stay in the guest room from now on. She can focus on the baby, and I’ll take good care of her.” Isabelle’s face immediately crumpled into a mask of distress. “I’m carrying Vincent’s child, and you want me to stay in a guest room? So far from the baby’s father? Are you trying to separate us on purpose?” “You’re right, how thoughtless of me,” I said, not giving anyone a chance to argue. I turned to the butler. “In that case, please move Mr. Ashwood’s things into the guest room as well. We wouldn’t want them to suffer a long-distance relationship under the same roof.” Isabelle’s eyes widened. Before she could launch into a tearful complaint, I turned my smiling gaze on Vincent. “Darling, you’re the father. It’s best for the baby’s development if you stay with the expectant mother. You can’t possibly be thinking of staying in the master bedroom with me. That would break poor Isabelle’s heart, wouldn’t it?” Isabelle bit her lip. Vincent’s eyes softened as he looked at her, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “I’ll stay with you and the baby. Come on, let’s go rest.” They walked up the stairs arm in arm, a picture of intimacy. In another life, the sight would have driven me mad with jealousy and rage. Now, I simply returned to the master bedroom and made a phone call I never thought I’d make. “We have a deal. I become a major shareholder in your group, and you help me destroy the Ashwoods.” 2. That evening, I slid a document across the desk to Vincent. “I’ve drafted a postnuptial agreement regarding our assets. Take a look.” Vincent scoffed, annoyed. “You want to talk about money with me now?” My eyes welled with tears, but I fought them back, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. “I’ve endured so many needles, so much pain. My body is broken, my pride is gone, and now I have to take care of the woman carrying your child,” I said, my voice cracking just so. “I haven’t uttered a single complaint. All I’m asking for is access to your supplementary credit card to do some shopping, to buy a few dresses. Is that too much to ask?” Vincent looked at me, his expression a complex mix of guilt and impatience. “As long as you behave, my money is your money. Spend what you want.” I watched, a serene smile on my face, as he signed the papers. My heart was a frozen stone in my chest. He had no idea that his signature had just given me complete control over his liquid assets. How I spent it was now entirely up to me. The next afternoon, dressed to the nines, I met my best friend Sophie for a shopping spree. In my previous lives, I had been so consumed by my love for Vincent that I’d pushed everyone away. Sophie had tried to talk sense into me a few times, but eventually, she gave up. I had died utterly alone. When I stood before her now, she was stunned. “Audrina? You actually ditched Vincent to go shopping with me? I heard the imposter heiress moved in with a bun in the oven. I expected you to be either drowning in tears or sharpening a butcher knife. You look tired, but… surprisingly calm.” I looked at my reflection in the shop window. My face was young, yet etched with a profound exhaustion. For three lifetimes, Vincent had used his family as an excuse, pressuring me, insisting I had to produce an heir or he’d divorce me. I loved him, so I threw myself into the brutal cycle of IVF, torturing my body for two years until I was a ghost of my former self. The irony was that I wasn’t the one who couldn’t conceive. It was him, feeding me birth control pills after every time we were intimate. He watched me suffer, offered no comfort, and then had the audacity to call me useless. How utterly, cruelly absurd. And I, for a man who had plotted my ruin from the start, had thrown away my friends, destroyed my health, and twisted my own life into a pathetic knot. I sighed. “I’m twenty-seven, Sophie, not seventeen. If he were madly in love with me, maybe I’d fight for him. But for a cheating bastard like him? He’s not worth a single tear.” Sophie stared at me for a long moment, then pulled me into a fierce, relieved hug. “It’s about damn time, you idiot! You gave up everything for him, running to clinics and trying crazy remedies until you ran yourself ragged. IVF is agony, and you did it ninety-nine times? Your stomach must be a pincushion. Were you crazy?” This life, I had been reborn on the very day of my ninety-ninth IVF failure. It was too late to stop myself from that last act of lovesick foolishness. But it wasn’t too late to choose a different way to live. I hugged her back tightly. “Never again. From now on, I live for me.” Elated, Sophie dragged me to an exclusive nightclub. The doors opened to reveal two rows of handsome young men, each with a unique style. “Audrina, take your pick! Tonight’s on me! We’re celebrating your escape from prison, your glorious rebirth!” I’d never been interested in men from places like this. But then I thought about it. I did need a child. And as it happened, today was my ovulation day. My eyes scanned the room, landing on a young man in a crisp white shirt. His silhouette was lean and sharp, the line from his neck to his shoulder clean and elegant. His long, slender fingers held a quiet, magnetic allure. Sophie followed my gaze. “That’s Noah. A university student, works part-time. Brilliant kid, but proud. He never takes clients.” I put down my glass and walked over to him. “Are you clean?” The young man looked up, his gaze intense. “I’ve never been with a woman.” I was satisfied. “Spend the night with me. Name your price.” He stared at me for a few seconds, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. One of the other hosts stepped forward nervously. “I’m sorry, miss, but Noah’s situation is unique, he doesn’t…” But Noah raised a hand, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Okay.” That night, he carried me into the presidential suite. He was a wolf, fierce and hungry. I cast aside the shackles and sorrows of my past two lives and let myself drown in the moment. My phone on the nightstand lit up and went dark, again and again. “Vincent Ashwood.” He called ninety-nine times before finally stopping. When it was over, I left cash on the table. As I walked out, ignoring the long list of missed calls, I didn’t see the man in the bed behind me watching my every move, his expression unreadable, as he answered a call of his own. “Brother, I’m not crazy. I know exactly who she is…” 3. When I got home, Vincent was sitting in the main armchair in the living room, his face a thundercloud. The ashtray in front of him was overflowing with cigarette butts. “Audrina!” he roared. “Where were you last night? Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” Isabelle clung to his arm, her voice a timid whisper. “Vincent, don’t be so harsh… Maybe Audrina was just upset and needed some space.” I calmly slipped off my heels and handed my purse to a waiting maid before I finally met his furious gaze. “I was out with Sophie. Had a few drinks with some guys to blow off steam. Is there a problem?” “You are Mrs. Ashwood!” Vincent’s rage boiled over at my indifference. “You went out drinking with other men? Am I dead to you?” I patted his shoulder condescendingly. “Now, now, what did we agree on yesterday? I’m going to be the perfect Mrs. Ashwood. You and Isabelle can be as lovey-dovey as you want. That’s wonderful for you, but I get lonely. And since you’re otherwise occupied, I naturally have to find someone who’s available to comfort me.” Vincent was so angry he could barely speak. Isabelle quickly fanned the flames. “Audrina, how could you be so shameless? Vincent is only being kind to me because you can’t have children. But to betray him like this… you’re breaking his heart!” Even now, they were trying to use that lie to make me feel guilty, to shame me into submission. My hands clenched into fists, but I kept the smile on my face. “As you said, I can’t have children. After ninety-nine failed IVF attempts, it’s pretty clear that even if I did ‘betray’ him, I wouldn’t end up pregnant like some people. So you can relax.” I turned my smile on her. “And you’re a pregnant woman, Isabelle. You need to keep your emotions stable. Stop trying to stir up trouble, alright? Be good.” A flicker of guilt crossed both their faces. I ignored them and turned to the butler. “From this day forward, Miss Isabelle’s meals are to be prepared with the utmost care. Five nourishing soups a day. Bird’s nest, sea cucumber, fish maw… only the highest quality ingredients. We must ensure she and the baby get all the nutrients they need.” Isabelle looked stunned. “Audrina, I can’t possibly eat that much…” “Of course you can! You’re eating for two! Don’t worry about your figure. The baby’s health is what matters.” Isabelle had always been vain about her looks. At the mention of her figure, a flicker of anxiety crossed her face. She looked to Vincent for help. “Vincent, I don’t want to…” Vincent, already agitated, just waved a dismissive hand. “Just listen to her.” I took Isabelle’s hand, my touch cloyingly affectionate. “Dearest, during pregnancy, hormonal changes can cause weight gain, skin discoloration, acne, even hair loss… it’s all perfectly normal. Please don’t worry. I will take the best care of you and the baby.” My words were soft and soothing, but Isabelle’s palm was slick with sweat. She saw my concern as a threat. Publicly, she drank the nourishing broths I had the kitchen prepare. Privately, she forced herself to throw them up. To maintain her figure, she spent two hours a day in the gym, ate nothing but salads, and secretly hired a prenatal yoga instructor to create a “no weight gain” plan. I watched it all unfold as I selected a gown for the upcoming anniversary gala. “Miss Isabelle is very active,” I instructed the butler. “Add an extra portion of soup to her daily menu. And make sure you watch her drink every last drop.” I was curious to see what kind of baby could survive that kind of prenatal abuse. 4. That weekend, I slipped into a haute couture gown, adorned myself with jewels, and made my way to the Ashwood Corporation’s anniversary gala. As always, the guests flattered and fawned over me. I moved through the crowd with a practiced smile, the perfect corporate wife. Half an hour into the event, Vincent arrived. And on his arm, her belly just beginning to show, was Isabelle. The room erupted in whispers. “Isn’t that the fake Jiang family heiress? With Mr. Ashwood?” “So the rumors are true! She really moved in! That must be his baby!” “The real wife must be losing her mind. This is going to be a bloodbath.” Isabelle saw me, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. As they passed me, she suddenly stumbled, lurching towards me. I was ready for it and sidestepped neatly. But she grabbed my wrist, using the momentum to throw herself backward. “Audrina… why did you push me?” she cried, her face instantly pale. She clutched her stomach, tears welling in her eyes. “Vincent, my stomach… it hurts…” Vincent’s face turned to stone. He raised his hand and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Audrina, she’s your sister! And she’s pregnant! Can’t you show a shred of decency?” The sting of his handprint bloomed across my cheek. After everything they’d done to me in my past lives, the pain didn’t break my heart. It just filled my chest with pure, unadulterated rage. “If I couldn’t stand the sight of her, she never would have set foot in the Ashwood mansion in the first place, let alone be here now, flaunting herself and slandering me in public.” Vincent’s gaze flickered to Isabelle. She just clutched his arm, her eyes red and pleading. “Vincent, you believe her? Not me?” His face hardened again. “Audrina, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Apologize to Isabelle. Now.” “I did nothing wrong,” I said, my voice like ice. Isabelle’s sobs grew louder. Vincent’s eyes were cold slits. “If you’re going to be this stubborn, then fine. As of today, the monthly allowance stipulated in our agreement is suspended. When you’re ready to get on your knees and apologize to Isabelle, we can discuss reinstating it.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t believe I’d actually tried to reason with a cheating, abusive bastard. I twisted the wedding ring from my finger, a ring I had worn for three lifetimes, and threw it at his face. “A man who cherishes his wife finds fortune. A man who abuses her loses everything. You’re choosing your mistress over me, Vincent. I hope you don’t live to regret it.” With that, I turned and walked away, not bothering to look back at the fury contorting his handsome features. In the days that followed, the household staff, sensing the shift in power, began to ignore my orders. They served me leftovers, cold and congealed. The internet, meanwhile, exploded with stories about me. “ASHWOOD CEO’S WIFE, BARREN FOR YEARS, DRIVEN MAD WITH JEALOUSY, ATTACKS PREGNANT SISTER.” “MRS. ASHWOOD’S SECRET LIFE: NIGHTS OF DEBAUCHERY WITH MALE ESCORTS.” “THE TRUTH REVEALED: VINCENT ASHWOOD DRIVEN INTO ANOTHER WOMAN’S ARMS BY HIS TOXIC, INFERTILE WIFE.” Suddenly, I, the victim, was a pariah, a villain in a story they had written for me. Vincent saw the headlines and offered me an ultimatum. “If you kneel and beg Isabelle for forgiveness, I’ll make these stories disappear. I’ll even let you save face at the family dinner tonight.” I glanced at the text message that had just arrived on my phone. The final piece was in place. Tonight, the trap would spring. I looked up at him. “You’re the one who leaked these stories. You’re the one who’s hurting me. The one who should be kneeling is you.” “You’re insane!” he spat, laughing with rage as he slammed the door on his way out. At the family dinner, I was seated at the far end of the long table, ignored and served nothing but cold appetizers. Isabelle, however, was seated right next to my mother-in-law, who held her hand affectionately. “Isabelle, dear, your belly is so pointed. It must be a boy,” she cooed. “Vincent, you must take good care of her. She’s the savior of the Ashwood family. Not like some people, who are not only useless but also a complete disgrace.” Everyone flocked around Isabelle, showering her with compliments, conveniently forgetting she was the other woman. They followed my mother-in-law’s lead, piling on the insults, each word a calculated sting. Isabelle kept glancing my way, her eyes glittering with triumph. Just then, Vincent’s assistant burst into the dining room, his face ashen. “Mr. Ashwood, it’s a disaster! Apex Holdings just snatched the development rights for the Eastside Core property!” he panted. “And our shipping contracts, the tech park project… several key suppliers just pulled out simultaneously! They said Apex made a better offer! Sir, our core assets are being poached! At this rate, the company is going to collapse!” Vincent shot to his feet, stunned. “How is that possible? Where would they get that kind of liquid capital?” The assistant was sweating profusely, his voice trembling. “I checked, sir. A new major shareholder invested in Apex Holdings two weeks ago. A massive infusion of capital. That new shareholder is… it’s your wife.” The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Vincent’s head snapped towards me, his eyes filled with utter disbelief. “Audrina. Was this you?” I met his gaze, my smile as sweet as poison. “Yes,” I said. “It was me.”

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It was New Year’s Eve, the day Noah and I were finally ending our seven-year long-distance relationship and announcing our engagement. But an emergency miscarriage case pulled me into the OR. The patient, Sarah, was hemorrhaging heavily, and tests showed she had Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV. The medical team looked grim. On the table, Sarah begged, “Please save my baby.” I shook my head. “You should know how your health affects your child.” She avoided my gaze. “But my husband wants a child. He’s the CEO of Sterling Holdings—we’ll pay anything.” My mind went blank. Sterling Holdings’ only CEO was Noah Sterling. I frowned. “Are you sure? Reports say he has a fiancée from a prominent family.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. “My husband did mention a fiancée around your age. But he said she’s boring, wouldn’t let him touch her before marriage—nothing like me, cute and flirty.” “He heard about my accident and is already on his private jet here.” Seeing her messenger photo—one I knew too well—I froze. The next second, Noah texted me: “Darling, year-end work is too busy. I won’t make the family gathering. I’ll make it up to you next time.” 1 After the surgery, the anesthetic hadn’t fully worn off, but Sarah was already urgently asking the nurse for her phone. “Baby, I hurt so much having the baby. Why aren’t you here with me yet?” “I know you look down on me because I’m just a mistress. Maybe I should just die with the baby then, so I don’t dirty your eyes.” As she spoke, she tried to prop herself up from the bed and head towards the third-floor window. On the phone, Noah’s urgent voice could be heard: “My sweet, I know you’re exhausted from labor. This is when you need me most. I’ve called the private jet and I’m rushing over now.” “I’ve already bought you that Hermes bag you said you liked last time. I’ll pick you and the baby up soon and take you to the best postnatal care center.” Hearing that all-too-familiar voice, my thoughts were pulled back to six years ago. At that time, Noah had just taken over Sterling Holdings. To prove his capabilities, he aggressively expanded the business, gaining both wealth and reputation, which earned him the resentment of many rival companies. On our one-year anniversary, a group of men rushed out of a parking garage and surrounded us. To protect Noah, a dagger was plunged into my abdomen, and the garage quickly became a pool of blood… That day, Noah frantically carried me into the hospital, kneeling and begging the doctors to save me, promising to do anything if they could just make me well. I woke up later, but due to the severe abdominal injuries, I had lost the ability to bear children. At that time, Noah, his eyes red and tearing up, held me. “River, I’m sorry… it’s all my fault. I will protect you for the rest of my life, never letting you suffer another injury.” Seeing the vasectomy consent form he handed me, in that moment, I knew he was the one for me, forever. Now, it all seemed so ridiculous. On the hospital bed, Sarah had already ended the video call, her eyes filled with the satisfaction of a goal achieved. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and asked, “Your child is infected with so many diseases. Will your husband even acknowledge this child?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her and Noah’s sickening chat history, finally stopping at an image of a will. “My husband already noted in his will that fifty percent of his assets will go to my son. He’s already prepared a multi-million dollar mansion for our son before he’s even born.” “Besides, that old hen at home lost her ability to lay eggs long ago. My husband is practically desperate to get rid of her, so how could he not acknowledge his own biological son?” I clenched my fists, struggling to control my emotions. Sarah, however, mistakenly thought I was jealous of her. She chuckled, leaning closer to my face. “Sister, don’t be jealous of me. I can tell you have good bone structure. It’s okay if you’re a bit older; with some makeup, you could also snag a rich man.” “You should find a man like my husband, utterly devoted to me, making sure everything is taken care of even before the child is born, ensuring our mother and child live without worries for the rest of our lives.” “Since you saved me and the baby, I’ll teach you some tips on how to handle men.” 2 I instinctively recoiled a step, my face unable to hide my disgust. “A man who has a fiancée but still flirts around, that kind of man just sickens me.” Sarah, however, didn’t care, shrugging indifferently. “Men are visual creatures; they have no resistance to young, pretty women, especially when the old woman at home can’t satisfy them. I just crook a finger, and he’s hooked.” “I used to think he had a deep connection with his fiancée, too, until one night his fiancée was in critical condition with a high fever and fainted. The hospital called him, but I just pouted a little, and he stayed with me to play crane games…” “You tell me, how could I easily let go of a man who values me so much?” My hands, clutching the hem of my clothes, trembled. That time I had a high fever and fainted, I almost didn’t make it. He told me he was on a business trip and couldn’t come back, then sent me a designer bag to placate me. Turns out he was with another woman. As she spoke, Sarah’s eyes scrutinized me up and down. “Sister, you look like you haven’t been intimate with a man… Is your relationship with your husband not good?” “Or has your husband also been satisfied by all the pretty women outside and lost interest in you?” “Do you want me to give you some advice?” Looking at Sarah, my breath caught. More than anger, I felt sheer dread. Sarah had been diagnosed with Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV, so Noah would naturally not be immune. Noah and I had been together for seven years, and every time he brought up intimacy, I had refused, wanting to save the best for our wedding day. Unexpectedly, that decision had saved me. Looking at Sarah’s condition again, the disease had caused skin lesions all over her body, even spreading to her neck. I couldn’t help but frown. “Does your husband know about your medical conditions? You’re both being very irresponsible towards your child.” As a woman, these diseases were Sarah’s most unspeakable, most hidden past, yet I had just blurted them out. Sarah’s eyes instantly widened in fury. “Of course my husband knows! Not only does he know, he doesn’t care about my past. He’s spoiled me rotten all these years and wanted me to have his child!” I didn’t believe a word Sarah said. I knew Noah well; power came first, feelings second. If he had known about Sarah’s condition beforehand, he would never have risked himself by being with a woman riddled with disease. Sarah saw the doubt in my eyes, and she rolled her eyes in displeasure. To prove she was telling the truth, Sarah pulled out her phone and played a recording of her and Noah in a passionate moment. In the recording, their intimate sounds mingled. Sarah pressed against Noah’s chest, her voice tearful. “Noah, darling, if one day you find out I’ve been hurt by someone, and have an illness I shouldn’t have… would you still love me?” “Of course I would, my sweet. You’re always so careful, you couldn’t possibly get sick. Even if by some chance you did, I’d love you no matter what you became. Come quickly… give it to me.” Sarah then lowered her voice, sounding wronged. “But Noah, darling, you have a fiancée. Even if you don’t mind me… surely your fiancée wouldn’t mind? I’m so afraid one day you’ll leave me because of that woman.” Sarah’s crying made Noah heartbroken; he quickly pulled her into his arms. Noah’s dislike for me intensified, his tone abruptly changing, his voice growing cold. “She’s the one who should be sick. Seven years of dating, and she never let me touch her. Maybe she’s the one with an illness she’s afraid for me to discover.” “Let her live her whole life guarding her purity then.” “My sweet, in bed, let’s not talk about that unlucky woman. Come on, let me see if my sweet has gained weight recently…” Sarah held up her phone. What followed were alternating moans and gasps from two people, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. “Sister, if you were Noah’s fiancée, what would you do? You’d probably hang yourself with a rope by now.” “To be such a failure as a woman, it’s only her.” “Slap!” I walked over and slapped Sarah across the face. “You and Noah don’t deserve to be human, and you certainly don’t deserve to be parents!” 3 “Are you crazy?!” “How dare you insult me and Noah?!” Sarah was furious. “As a doctor, you hit a patient without explanation. Is this your medical ethics? I’m going to make everyone judge this!” With that, Sarah pressed the call button for the nurse, loudly shouting to summon all the medical staff. She completely ignored the baby, startled and crying from the commotion, and clutched her own cheek, complaining, “Your doctor here assaulted a new mother! Are there no rules or regulations anymore? I’m calling the police to have her arrested!” I glanced at her disdainfully. “The police will be here, and you’re the one they’ll be arresting!” “Knowing you have syphilis and HIV, you deliberately infected someone else. I merely reminded you of your responsibilities, and you accuse me of lacking medical ethics. Go ahead and call the police. Let’s see who they take away.” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone, pretending to dial the emergency number for her. The nurses around us whispered amongst themselves. Everyone was discreetly aware that Sarah had been admitted as a special patient. They were clearly shocked she was so shameless as to flaunt it. Seeing no one speaking up for her, Sarah grew even more incensed, weeping and complaining, “You’re lying! I didn’t infect anyone… that’s my husband! He knows about this, and he was the one who got sick first!” Sarah pointed her finger at me again. “No matter what, as a doctor, you assaulted a patient. You have no professional ethics! I’m calling the director to complain about you!” The head nurse quickly stepped forward to calm Sarah. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans is the top surgeon at our city’s premier hospital. We specifically called Dr. Evans to operate because of your unique condition.” “Dr. Evans is usually very gentle and has won numerous awards in her years of practice, never having any disputes with patients. There might be some misunderstanding. Please have some water and rest, and we’ll mediate.” Sarah eyed me, full of disdain. “A top city doctor, yet so tactless. I wonder what kind of means she used to get where she is. She probably isn’t so clean herself.” The next second, Sarah’s phone rang. From the other end, Noah’s concerned voice could be heard: “My sweet, I’m at the hospital entrance. I’ll be right there.” Sarah instantly dropped her feisty demeanor, crying out plaintively, “Noah, darling, what took you so long? I’ve been bullied!” The head nurse, sensing something amiss, pulled my hand and whispered, “Dr. Evans, thank you for your hard work on this surgery. I see the patient is stable now. We can handle the rest. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I heard your husband is coming back to be with you. You should go home early and spend time together.” Sarah heard the head nurse trying to send me away and immediately complained to Noah on the phone: “Noah, darling, this doctor not only hit me, but she also said our son is sick and won’t live long! Now the head nurse is trying to quietly send her away!” “Noah, darling, I’m so scared alone… Please come quickly and stand up for me and our baby!” Noah couldn’t bear to see his darling suffer. He immediately ordered his security to seal off all hospital exits, disregarding hospital order, prohibiting any medical staff from entering or leaving. “This kind of morally corrupt doctor, I’ll have her blacklisted in the entire city. No hospital will be allowed to hire such a disgraced doctor.” “My sweet, wait for me. I’ll see which doctor is so bold as to touch my Noah Sterling’s woman and child!” Sarah wore a triumphant expression, clearly intending to make me suffer. Everyone in the hospital room was anxious. On one side was the cooperating city hospital, on the other was Noah Sterling of Sterling Holdings. Neither was someone they could afford to offend. I, in contrast, was calmer than anyone present. Sarah hung up the phone and walked over, hooking a finger under my chin, provocatively. “You can still apologize now, it’s not too late. Kneel down and clean my shoes with your tongue, and I might let this go.” The head nurse forced a smile. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans did help you and your baby. Maybe we can just let this matter drop?” “She slapped me, and she expects me to just let it go?” Sarah adopted an arrogant pose. “I’m giving her two choices: either she kneels and apologizes to me, or she waits to be blacklisted from all hospitals in Havenwood!” The head nurse looked at me, her expression hesitant and worried. Everyone knew how difficult it was to get into a top city hospital; countless people fought tooth and nail just to get close. For a woman like me to become a leading doctor in such a hospital, the effort involved was unimaginable. If my career was to be destroyed by a single word from Noah, it would be unacceptable for anyone. “What, scared now? It’s not too late to kneel and apologize.” I scoffed, my head held high. “Upholding justice and punishing evil, I did nothing wrong. I will not apologize.” Seeing no sign of me backing down, Sarah’s resentment festered. She glared at me, warning, “You just wait!” With that, Sarah turned and snapped at the head nurse, “I was assaulted in your hospital. You must give me an explanation. Noah can blacklist one person from all hospitals, and he won’t mind adding a few more!” The head nurse, not wanting to make things difficult for me, tugged at my sleeve, about to step forward and apologize, but I pulled her back first. “Smack!” Another slap landed on Sarah’s face, sending her stumbling back several steps. “You actually dared to hit me again!” “I hit you, you arrogant opportunist!” I wanted to step forward and teach her another lesson, but the head nurse and several other medical staff held me back. Sarah dared not cause any more trouble. She clutched her face and rushed out, opening the door and practically throwing herself into a man’s arms. Tears welled in her eyes, and the red imprint of my hand was clearly visible on her cheek. “Noah, darling, you’re finally here! That woman hit me again. Please, you must get justice for me.” “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, all because you came too late. The baby and I almost didn’t get to see you.” Noah held Sarah, his heart aching. “How incredibly brazen! I’ll see who’s audacious enough to lay a hand on my woman and child!” Sarah wept dramatically in Noah’s arms, a sight that would make even other women feel pity. What man could resist such a woman? “Don’t cry, sweetie. I’ll stand by you.” With that, Sarah led the man into the hospital room. The moment the door opened, Noah and I locked eyes. Noah froze. Sarah, still confused, pointed at me, seething, “Noah, darling, she hit me! You must uphold justice for me!” I looked at Noah impassively. “Mr. Sterling, shouldn’t you be working overtime at the company?”

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My boyfriend and his childhood friend were both competing in the same dance competition. To ensure she won the championship, he actually hid razor blades in my dance shoes. My feet were a bloody mess, and I couldn’t go on stage. Afterward, he offered a fake apology. “Mia, your grades are excellent. Even if you don’t dance, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to succeed.” “But Chloe is different. She has to get first place to get into the city dance troupe.” The school administration was going to call the police, but because I loved him, I chose to give him another chance. I never imagined he would escalate. To completely eliminate any competition for his precious childhood friend, he locked me in an empty dance studio and smashed my feet with a hammer. 1 The moment the dance studio door locked, I stared at Liam Vance in absolute terror. “Dancing is my dream too, Liam. Please, don’t do this.” I begged him desperately, but Liam acted as if he couldn’t hear a word. He ordered his childhood friend to hold me down while he raised a large sledgehammer and approached me. “You’re so talented, you can have any dream you want. Why does it have to be dancing?” “Mia, don’t blame me. Blame the dance troupe for only having one opening.” I was the best dancer in the school. As long as I was competing, Chloe Sinclair had absolutely zero chance of winning. I came from a poor family. My parents died in a car crash when I was young, and my grandmother raised me. I had loved dancing since I was a child. When I found out that getting into the city dance troupe meant free tuition plus a monthly stipend, I started practicing like my life depended on it. My grandmother was getting older and could no longer support us. Since my freshman year of high school, I spent every spare moment dancing. For two whole years, all my effort was dedicated to this one audition. The first prize in the previous competition came with a ten-thousand-dollar cash reward. I had planned to use that money to buy medicine for my grandmother. The rest would have paid for my senior year tuition. But all my beautiful plans were destroyed by Liam’s selfishness. I had already lost one opportunity. If I failed this audition, I would have to drop out of school. But none of that mattered compared to my physical safety. I couldn’t become a cripple. I couldn’t become a burden to my grandmother. Before Liam could swing the hammer, I screamed. “Liam! I won’t go to the audition tomorrow! I forfeit!” Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, I pleaded earnestly. “I promise, I’ll accept your financial help. I won’t compete with Chloe anymore. Just please don’t hurt me!” Liam finally wavered. He threw the hammer aside and lunged forward, hugging me tightly. “Why didn’t you just agree earlier?” “Mia, I didn’t want to hurt you, but Chloe has sacrificed so much for me. I’ve already failed her once. Helping her achieve her dream is the only way I can repay her.” Just as I thought I had convinced Liam to let me go, his phone rang. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the name “Chloe Angel” flashing on the screen. My heart sank. While he answered the phone, I broke free from his friend’s grip and sprinted toward the door. “Help!” “Is anyone there?! Please help me!” My hand had barely touched the doorknob when I was grabbed from behind, a hand clamped over my mouth, and dragged back. Liam was still on the phone. Chloe’s voice echoed through the silent night, crystal clear. “Liam, I just found out. The dance troupe has already decided to select Mia. Her audition tomorrow is just a formality.” 2 Chloe started crying as she spoke. “Why am I working so hard if I can never achieve my dream? What am I doing wrong? Liam, tell me, am I just destined to be a loser as long as Mia is around?” “Why does everyone choose her and not me?!” Listening to Chloe’s broken sobs, Liam’s gaze toward me turned dark and ruthless. He lowered his voice and said, “Chloe, I promise you, Mia will never have the chance to dance again.” “You’re going to nail that audition tomorrow.” He hung up, picked up the discarded sledgehammer, and walked toward me again. “I’m sorry, Mia. Chloe lost her innocence trying to save me. I should have stayed with her and protected her for the rest of her life, but I rejected her for you.” “We both owe her. After this, we’ll be even.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I never knew Liam and Chloe had that kind of history. I shook my head frantically, trying to stop his insane actions. But he was completely out of his mind. When the excruciating, bone-shattering pain exploded from my ankle, my entire body convulsed into a tight ball. I opened my mouth wide but couldn’t scream. I even forgot how to breathe, how to let my heart beat. The world seemed to plunge into a dead, silent darkness. All I could see was an endless sea of blood red. When I regained consciousness, I heard Liam’s hoarse, heartbroken sobbing. He was holding me, his entire body trembling violently. “Mia, forgive me just this once. I promise I will love you and take care of you for the rest of my life.” “I’ll spend my entire life making this up to you.” I opened my eyes and looked at my twisted, shattered ankle. The crimson blood almost completely engulfed me. The pain radiated through my entire body, draining all my strength, leaving me paralyzed in Liam’s arms. My dream, my life, completely destroyed by him. What was the point of him taking care of me for the rest of my life? “Mia, if you want to cry, just cry. If you want to curse me, curse me.” “I know I wronged you, but I had no other choice. This was the only way I could repay Chloe. Only then could we be together with a clear conscience.” “A clear conscience?” I repeated those words, slowly lifting my eyes to look at Liam’s tear-stained face. “You smashed my ankle. I might never be able to walk normally again, and you’re telling me about a clear conscience?” “You pursued me. You wanted to be with me. I never asked you to give up Chloe for me. Why should I have to suffer the consequences of your guilt toward her?!” “If I had known this was the price of being with you, I would have rather never met you.” Using every ounce of strength I had, I shoved him away and began to slowly, agonizingly drag myself toward the door. Every inch I crawled tore at my soul with excruciating pain. A long, gruesome trail of blood trailed behind me. My words infuriated Liam. He yelled defensively, “Is it a crime that I love you?!” “If I didn’t love you, why would I have rejected Chloe? I already promised to take care of you forever! What more do you want?!” “You only lost your chance to dance! Chloe lost her entire future with the man she loves! You have me, isn’t that enough?! Why do you have to steal her future too?!” He was the one who committed the atrocity, yet he was having a hysterical breakdown, blaming me. Blaming me for being greedy, for being ungrateful. Right before I lost consciousness, I looked at him with profound disappointment. “Liam Vance, we are done.” “I will never, ever love you again.” 3 The way Liam and I met was incredibly cliché. During my freshman year, I was cornered and harassed by some local thugs in an alley. He swooped in like a hero, fighting them off. He took a knife wound for it—a deep gash on his arm. I was incredibly grateful and deeply admired his heroism. After that, he pursued me relentlessly. I slowly fell for him, falling deeply in love. It was only after we got together that I learned about his childhood best friend, Chloe Sinclair. Liam always maintained a clear boundary with Chloe. I thought he was just being considerate of my feelings. I never imagined they shared such a dark secret. In his own words: he couldn’t give Chloe his love, but he would give her anything else she wanted. Just because Chloe said she couldn’t win first place with me around, Liam hid razor blades in my dance shoes the day before the competition. Afterward, he carried me frantically to the hospital, begging the doctors to make sure my feet wouldn’t scar. I received over thirty stitches that night. Terrified that anesthesia would affect my future dancing, I gritted my teeth and endured it without painkillers. I passed out from the pain several times, only to be jolted awake by more agony. Meanwhile, Chloe took her friends out partying until dawn to celebrate her first-place win. She even brought the ten-thousand-dollar prize money in an envelope when she came to visit me in the hospital. While Liam was out buying food, Chloe gloated, “So what if you’re his girlfriend? I will always be the most important person in his heart.” “Believe it or not, with one word from me, he could make sure you never dance again.” I recorded her saying that and played it for Liam, demanding to know what their relationship really was. Liam angrily smashed my phone and told me to trust him. “No matter what happens, I love you.” “I only owe Chloe a debt of gratitude, nothing more. Mia, I will give you all my love.” It turned out that Chloe had confessed her feelings for Liam long before high school. But Liam only saw her as a friend and never thought of her romantically. Chloe refused to give up and followed him everywhere. To the bar, to play basketball, to illegal street races—she was always there. Once, Liam was targeted by some thugs seeking revenge. To help him escape, Chloe was sexually assaulted by them. Afterward, Chloe begged him not to go to the police. She didn’t want the stigma. Liam was consumed by guilt, but he still didn’t want to date her out of obligation. Since then, he granted her every wish, even destroying my dance career for her. It was the third day when I finally woke up in the hospital. I tentatively tried to move my foot, and agonizing pain instantly shot up my leg. I couldn’t help but groan, alerting the caretaker beside me. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?” I looked at her blankly. Just as I was about to ask what happened, I saw the TV on the wall. It was broadcasting a replay of the city dance troupe selecting dancers from a local high school. On screen, Chloe, wearing a leotard, looked graceful and slender. She smiled radiantly, her movements elegant, quickly earning applause from the crowd. To my surprise, the dance troupe had expanded their recruitment this year, accepting three students from our school. “Those girls are so lucky. I hear once you get into the city troupe, room and board are completely free.” “If they get into a good university, the troupe even pays their tuition. As long as they keep performing, they’re set for life.” The caretaker sighed sympathetically as she looked at me. “But don’t lose hope, dear. Your boyfriend said you have excellent grades. You can do scientific research or something. You won’t necessarily need to walk around a lot.” 4 “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I cut her off coldly and asked her to get the doctor. I asked the doctor about my condition. When I learned I would never walk normally again, a suffocating despair washed over me. “Doctor, I used to be a dancer. Getting into the city troupe was my dream. What about my future…” “Sigh.” The doctor sighed softly, advising me to stay positive. “You’re still young. There are many paths you can take. Don’t give up.” After the doctor left, Liam arrived. And Chloe was with him. She actually pushed a wheelchair into the room. The moment she saw me, she rushed over with fake concern. “Mia, you’re finally awake.” “You have no idea how worried Liam and I have been these past two days.” She looked deeply concerned, while Liam stood nearby, looking pleased. “Mia, Chloe knew you hadn’t been eating or sleeping well. She really cares about you.” Liam even added that Chloe had bought the wheelchair with her own saved-up allowance. “You refused the money Chloe offered you last time. You can’t refuse her gift this time.” “Yes, Mia. It breaks my heart to see your feet like this. You’ll have a lot of trouble getting around after you’re discharged, so please accept my gift.” I glared at them with pure hatred. “Since when does an abuser giving a gift to their victim mean anything good?” “Are you two trying to put on a show of eternal friendship or some tragic romance? I’m not in the mood for a performance. Get out!” My ruthless sarcasm instantly angered Liam. It also made Chloe’s eyes well up with tears. She looked at Liam, looking wronged and humiliated. “Liam, I know Mia hates me. I’ll leave.” Instead of leaving, she threw herself into Liam’s arms and started crying. “Liam, what can I do to make Mia less angry? If I could, I’d give her my spot in the dance troupe.” A flicker of heartache crossed Liam’s eyes. He pulled Chloe behind him and glared at me. “Mia, why are you taking your anger out on Chloe? I did all of this. If you want to hate someone, hate me. What’s the point of these passive-aggressive attacks?” “Chloe doesn’t know anything. She came here out of the goodness of her heart.” I was so angry I almost laughed at their sheer audacity. “If she didn’t know anything, why did she bring a wheelchair?” I pointed at Chloe. “I’m a cripple now. I can never dance again. And she says she wants to give me her spot in the troupe? Don’t you see how incredibly insulting that is?” I didn’t want to waste another breath arguing with them. I turned my head toward the window and issued an ultimatum. “Liam Vance, we are broken up. Stop acting like you care.” “And the fact that you intentionally assaulted me? I’ve already called the police. I will seek justice through the law.” Liam stared at me in disbelief. “Break up? I don’t agree to that.” “And I already told you I’d compensate you. You actually want to call the police and have me arrested? You are so heartless. I really misjudged you.” Just as he finished speaking, Chloe suddenly swayed and collapsed against him. “Liam, my heart is racing.” “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten in two days and my blood sugar is low, but I feel so dizzy!” She closed her eyes and went limp in Liam’s arms. Liam quickly picked her up and rushed to find a doctor. Before he left, he threw one last threat over his shoulder. “Mia, I’m letting this go because I know you’re upset. But don’t forget, I’m paying for all your medical bills right now.” “If you break up with me, you’ll be kicked out of this hospital immediately. You won’t even have a place to sleep.” 5 My chest tightened, and a wave of indescribable bitterness washed over me. My grandmother’s health was too frail to care for me in this state, and it was true—I didn’t have the money to pay my medical bills. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him control me. After Liam left, I found an excuse to send the caretaker away. I pulled my phone from under my pillow and dialed a number. “Principal Huang, I am willing to accept your sponsorship. Can you accept a cripple as your future employee?” “Okay. My current address is… I will see you in three days.” Liam thought I was just trying to scare him, that I wouldn’t actually press charges. When the police arrived to investigate, he was still lying, claiming he didn’t mean to smash my ankle. “It was an accident. I didn’t do it on purpose.” “She’s my girlfriend, and I’ve already compensated her. I paid for her surgery.” “My friends can testify for me. We were arguing, we were both angry, and I accidentally hurt her. It wasn’t intentional.” Infuriatingly, he had destroyed the security cameras in the dance studio beforehand, and his two friends backed up his story. There wasn’t enough evidence to charge him with intentional assault. Ultimately, under police mediation, the Vance family agreed to pay me one million dollars for post-operative care. “It’s 20,087,650 dollars.” I handed the itemized bill, calculated by my lawyer, to the Vance family. “If you refuse to pay this in full immediately, we’ll see you in court.” Liam’s parents, eager to sweep this under the rug, quickly signed the settlement agreement. Liam, however, acted as if he had suffered a massive humiliation. “Mia, you’re threatening to sue me over two million dollars?” “You know I’m going to inherit the family business. I can’t have a criminal record. And you’re still trying to sue me?” I expressionlessly accepted the money from the Vance family and left the police station with my lawyer. Liam resentfully chased after me and blocked my path. “Don’t you understand? If you just stayed with me, I could give you so much more.” “But spending two million to see your true colors is worth it. Mia, I am so disappointed in you.” His tone was icy, his eyes full of mockery. “You better not regret this later. I would never accept a cripple as my girlfriend anyway.” My foot was still healing, and I was confined to a wheelchair. But right then, I grabbed the armrests and painfully forced myself to stand. With every ounce of strength I had, I slapped Liam across the face. “Don’t you forget, you’re the one who made me a cripple. What right do you have to mock me?” Smack. Liam’s head jerked to the side. Half of his face turned bright red, with five clear finger marks stinging his skin. Hearing the commotion, his family rushed out and threatened to sue me for assault. “You have the audacity to act like this right outside a police station?! Liam must have been blind to ever fall in love with a girl like you.” “Look at you, acting like a common street thug. You don’t even have a fraction of Chloe’s grace. Even if your foot wasn’t crippled, you’d never win first place.” As they were pointing fingers and yelling at me, Liam suddenly roared. “Enough!” He gave me one last resentful, humiliated look, then dragged his family away. Everyone thought I would transfer schools, or maybe even leave the city entirely. But I didn’t. I used the settlement money to move my grandmother into a top-tier nursing home. Then, I met with Principal Huang, who had come to discuss the sponsorship. When he saw me, he was confused. “You have money now. You don’t need our sponsorship at all. Why do you still…” I smiled bitterly. “That money cost me my future and my dreams. I’d rather not have it.” 6 Principal Huang was the principal of a middle school in a neighboring county. For years, he had been sponsoring outstanding students from impoverished families to attend university. But his sponsorship came with conditions. Any student who got into a top university had to return and teach at his middle school for five years after graduation. He had approached me before my junior year of high school, but at the time, I was determined to join the dance troupe, so I politely declined. Now that my dream was shattered, I couldn’t think of any other company that would hire a cripple after I graduated from college. Principal Huang was deeply sympathetic to my situation and quickly finalized the sponsorship agreement. To ensure I could focus entirely on preparing for the college entrance exams, he rented an apartment for me off-campus. “Don’t feel burdened by this. All these expenses will be deducted from your future salary.” While I was trying to find a new path for my future, someone secretly photographed me with Principal Huang and posted it online. They claimed I was a sugar baby for an older man. “Didn’t expect a cripple to be in such high demand these days.” “So what? Her foot is ruined, not her face. As long as she’s pretty and willing to put out, why not?” “Maybe cripples are better in bed.” Everywhere I went, I heard these disgusting rumors. Some people even had the audacity to ask me my nightly rate to my face. “Hey, I’m younger and stronger than that old man. Serving me is way better than serving him. What do you say? Want to try it tonight?” I didn’t want to engage with these pathetic losers, but walking with crutches made me vulnerable. While trying to dodge them, someone tripped me, and I fell hard onto the ground. Just as the guy reached out, pretending to help me up while trying to cop a feel, a cold, hard voice rang out. “Let her go.” It was Liam. Without a word, he grabbed the guy by the collar, pinned him to the ground, and started beating him mercilessly, until the guy’s mouth was bleeding and he was begging for mercy. “Liam, stop! You’re going to kill him!” Chloe was crying, trying to pull Liam away, but he was like a madman, throwing punch after punch. I watched this unfold with complete apathy. Then, I picked up my crutches and struggled to my feet, limping away step by step. Chloe rushed over to grab me. “Can’t you see Liam is defending you?! How can you just walk away without saying a word?!” I shook her off, a cold smile forming on my lips. “If someone stabs you, and then calls an ambulance right as you’re bleeding to death, are you supposed to thank them?” Liam froze. Even from a distance, I could see the heartbreak in his eyes. Hilarious. I was the one being questioned, the one being attacked. What was he so heartbroken about? I walked past Chloe and kept going. Even when I was far away, I could still hear her screaming. “Liam, please stop hitting him! Didn’t you hear what Mia said?! She hates you! No matter what you do for her, she will never forgive you!” Later that evening, police sirens echoed across the campus. Students returning from outside looked at me strangely. “Her ex-boyfriend got arrested for defending her, and she’s just sitting there calmly taking notes.” “Liam is such an idiot. They’re broken up, and he’s still fighting her battles. A heartless bitch like her deserves to be crippled.” “You guys probably don’t know this, but I heard she extorted the Vance family for over two million dollars when they broke up!” “She’s so quiet, but she’s actually ruthless.” Just another version of the rumors. I didn’t even have to guess who was so obsessively tracking my life. 7 The college entrance exams were looming, and time was tight. I didn’t have a single second to waste on these rumors. I definitely wasn’t going to argue with ignorant people. In a month, we’d all go our separate ways, and my future would never cross paths with theirs again. But no matter how aloof I acted, trouble still found me. The next day, Chloe cornered me in the restroom. Her eyes were swollen, and she glared at me with pure venom. “Mia, Liam got arrested because of you! Are you happy now?” “He lost his temper and hit that guy because of you, and you just walked away without a word.” “You have to come to the police station with me right now and testify that he was acting in self-defense.” Under Chloe’s relentless badgering, I went with her. At the police station, I was perfectly calm during the questioning. “The student who was beaten didn’t touch me inappropriately. I didn’t feel any malicious intent from him.” “Liam assaulting him has absolutely nothing to do with me. I have nothing else to say.” “Of course, I take full responsibility for my statement.” Because of my testimony, Liam’s self-defense claim was thrown out. He was charged with intentional assault. Unfortunately for him, the boy he blinded in one eye came from a prominent family, not someone who could be bought off with loose change. The Vance family spent a fortune trying to keep Liam out of jail. I heard they spent over twenty million in bribes alone. Ultimately, the Vance family decided to send Liam abroad. Chloe threw multiple tantrums in front of me, calling me a curse. She blamed me for destroying Liam’s future. “Liam promised we would go to A University together. After graduation, he would take over his family’s company, and I would be his assistant. Now, because of you, everything is ruined!” I sneered and looked at Chloe. “Are you saying that if Liam goes abroad and comes back, his family won’t let him inherit the company anymore?” “Or is it that the Vance family is only paying for Liam to go abroad, and he can’t take you with him this time? Are you afraid he’ll find someone new over the next few years and forget all about you, his ‘old love’?” Chloe’s face flushed with anger. “What are you talking about?! What new love, what old love?! Liam and I have the purest friendship!” Just as she was about to attack me, Liam appeared. He ordered Chloe away and cornered me in the study hall. “Mia, I came to say goodbye.” He said he didn’t blame me for what I said at the police station. “You were angry. You wanted revenge. I accept that.” “Mia, I’m just worried that after I leave, no one will protect you. What will you do if you run into trouble again?” I self-deprecatingly held up my crutch. “Before, I fought thugs bare-handed. Now, thanks to you, I at least have a weapon.” “Mr. Vance, if you truly want what’s best for me, why don’t you take Chloe with you? That way, she won’t be constantly harassing me and interfering with my studies.” Liam looked at me with complex emotions. After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay. I promise you.” A week later, both Liam and Chloe completed their paperwork and left the country. Without those two plagues, high school felt significantly brighter. On the eve of the college entrance exams, Principal Huang was invited as a special guest speaker to give a motivational speech to the students. 8 He specifically mentioned my name on the podium. “Mia Harrison is not the first student from your school to sign a sponsorship agreement with us, but she is the most unique.” “After suffering a malicious physical attack, she didn’t give up or fall into despair. She remained resilient and continued fighting for her future.” “Students, we should all learn from Mia. No matter when or where, never easily give up. As long as you keep moving forward, you are making progress!” Thunderous applause erupted from the audience. The malicious rumors surrounding me vanished with it. After the exams, everyone exchanged contact information and formed group chats. I received many private messages apologizing to me, as well as many words of encouragement. To my surprise, there was also an email from across the ocean. Liam only wrote one sentence in the email. “Mia, if you don’t meet anyone who captures your heart during your four years of college, will you look back at me?” I deleted and blocked the email address, tossing it into the trash along with my past with him. College life was fulfilling and intense. Besides attending classes and participating in clubs, I also went to the hospital for regular physical therapy. Medical technology in our country was rapidly advancing. In my senior year, I underwent a cutting-edge bone graft procedure. It was incredibly expensive, but the results were miraculous. At the graduation ceremony, after four years, I stepped onto the stage once again. I flawlessly performed the dance I never got to finish four years ago. I became famous overnight. The video was shared across all major platforms, amassing over a hundred million views. Someone recognized me and left a comment. “I went to high school with her. If someone hadn’t broken her ankle in her senior year, she definitely would have been recruited by the city dance troupe.” “I also know her family was really poor. Just her grandmother taking care of her. She was planning to use the competition prize money to buy medicine for her grandmother, but someone hid razor blades in her shoes on the day of the competition.” The official account of the city dance troupe actually sent me an invitation. They asked if I was still willing to join them. Looking at the invitation, four years late, my eyes filled with tears. “If you want to go, go. Achieving your dream is the most important thing.” Principal Huang, whom I had invited along with my grandmother to attend my graduation, had told me from the start that he wouldn’t force me to work for him after graduation. But I couldn’t break my promise. “You were the guiding light when I was lost. Since I chose this path, I can’t go back on my word.” “Whether in life or work, you must be a person of your word. My grandmother taught me that.” I politely declined the dance troupe’s offer to be their lead dancer and resolutely followed Principal Huang back to the county to become an ordinary teacher. Every day, facing the innocent, eager faces of my teenage students, I felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. Occasionally, I encountered students in early romances, and I used examples to guide them in the right direction.

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Everyone knows I am Weston Montgomery’s exclusively devoted, pathetic doormat of a girlfriend. If he told me to jump into a river, I jumped. If he told me to kneel in the rain all night, I knelt. I was so obedient that even when he kept a mistress on the side, I voluntarily delivered condoms to their hotel room. People in our circle praised him for raising such a good “dog,” and mocked me for doing whatever it took to marry into wealth. But when he took the initiative to propose to me at a family dinner, I shook my head and refused: “I’ve done everything I could.” “But there is no need for a wedding.” 1 The atmosphere instantly became incredibly awkward. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery exchanged nervous glances, tactfully keeping their mouths shut. Weston, who had been half-drunk and smiling, stiffened. He suddenly stood up, knocking over the dining table, and glared at me in disbelief: “You’re refusing to marry me? Harper, what kind of high-and-mighty act are you putting on now?” “Haven’t you been chasing after me all these years just to marry into my family? Now you’re playing hard to get?” I lazily lifted my eyelids to look at the furious Weston, then turned to his parents. I stood up, nodded at them, and said: “I’m done eating. I’ll be heading back now.” His parents quickly stood up, grabbing Weston by both arms to stop him from doing anything drastic. They offered me an apologetic smile. “Thank you for everything, Harper. Weston must have forgotten to take his meds. Don’t take it to heart.” “Of course, if you are willing to marry him, we would be more than happy to—” “Mom! Dad! What are you talking about?! Harper is the one begging to marry me! Why are you walking on eggshells around her?” “Let me tell you, Harper, if you don’t want to marry me, there’s a long line of women who do! If you weren’t such a good little lapdog, do you think I would have ever given you a second look?” His words were as piercing as ever, but over the past three years, I seemed to have gotten used to them. From initial disbelief to calm acceptance, and now, to complete indifference. It took me three years to accept the fact that Weston had completely forgotten me and that his personality had drastically changed. Now, we had reached the end of the line. I gave Weston one last, deep look, grabbed my coat, and walked out. The sound of things crashing and shattering echoed behind me, but I didn’t look back. Walking up to the car, I tried the door handle a few times, but it wouldn’t open. The chauffeur walked up to me with a sour expression, shoved me hard, and sneered: “This is Mr. Montgomery’s car, and I am Mr. Montgomery’s driver. Do you really think you’re someone important? Mr. Montgomery isn’t going out, so why do you think you can sit in his car?” “Get lost. Don’t be an eyesore.” The bodyguards standing nearby all looked at me with mocking eyes; a few even failed to hold back their laughter. I stood quietly in place. Looking at these people—who had obeyed my every command back when Weston and I were doing well—I only felt a deep sense of irony. When you lose your status, people show their true colors. I didn’t say another word, turned around, and walked out. 2 The Montgomery estate was in an exclusive villa district where you couldn’t hail a cab. I had to walk all the way to the main road outside. A cold, drizzling rain had begun to fall. The streets were mostly deserted. Just as I reached the side of the road, a Porsche pulled up smoothly right in front of me. I tried to walk away to hail a ride, but the car seemed to have eyes, following my every step. I frowned, bent down, and tapped on the window. A familiar face appeared before my eyes. Stella Harrington curled her lips into a disdainful smirk, mocking me: “What’s wrong? Got kicked out of the family dinner?” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. A doormat is a doormat. You’ll never get a seat at the big table in this lifetime.” I stared at her for a long moment before slowly curling my lips into a smile: “What do you think Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery would do if they found out that you were the one who tried to assault Weston years ago, which led to his mental breakdown?” Stella froze. She crushed her cigarette, stepped out of the car, grabbed me by the collar, and screamed: “How do you know about that?!” “No wonder… the last time he ordered you to bring us condoms at the hotel, you completely lost it and trashed the room to keep us apart. I thought you were just jealous, but you were actually protecting your master, huh?” “Go ahead, tell them! If you tell them, Weston might remember that night, and he’ll go insane all over again. Then no one will dare marry him, and his parents will be begging me to marry him!” She was right. The only reason Stella could show her face so brazenly in front of Weston was that she knew the Montgomery family wouldn’t dare expose the truth, even if they knew. Otherwise, Weston might be triggered into another psychotic break and attempt suicide again. A surge of pure rage shot from my chest to my limbs. I felt my blood freezing over. The woman in front of me hadn’t said enough. She chuckled and spat on the ground near my feet: “You’re just a coward!” “If you couldn’t protect your own boyfriend back then, don’t blame me!” “Now I want him again. I want to play with him, and what the hell can you do about it—” Smack! I threw all rationality to the wind and drove a vicious elbow into her, knocking her to the ground. Rage rushed to my head. I stepped forward, pinned her down, and raised my fist to strike again. In that split second, a piercing pain erupted from the back of my head. My entire body went numb, as if a pause button had been pressed. I turned my head blankly. Weston stood there, holding a blood-stained brick. His face was half-angry, his expression dark: “Are you crazy, Harper?! Who gave you the right to hit Stella?!” “Being jealous is one thing, but this is crossing the line!” I reached up and touched the back of my head. My hand came away covered in blood, and my vision instantly blurred. Stella scrambled up from the ground, hid behind Weston, and glared at me with a wicked smile: “Where did this rabid dog come from, biting people for no reason? I’ll kill you!” Saying that, Stella raised her foot and viciously kicked me with her high heel. Caught off guard, the kick landed hard. The agonizing pain from my head and my thigh made me nearly black out. In the final second before my consciousness faded, I saw Stella nestled in Weston’s arms, looking down at me with a provocative, triumphant glare, spitting on the ground one last time. 3 When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was a blinding expanse of white. There was no one by my side. I struggled to press the call button. When the nurse came in, Mrs. Montgomery was with her. Her eyes were red. She waited until the nurse finished checking my vitals and told her I needed a week of rest before profusely thanking her and seeing her out. The room was silent for a while before Mrs. Montgomery choked out a sob: “It’s all my fault. I didn’t keep a close enough eye on Wes. He ran out last night wanting to win you back, to marry you. Who could have known this would happen!” “I… I…” She wept so hard she could barely speak, turning me—the victim—into the one who had to comfort her. After a long time, Mrs. Montgomery finally stopped crying. She lowered her head and said softly: “Since things have come to this… even though his father and I desperately want you to stay by Wes’s side, it’s no use anymore. Whenever you want to leave, we’ll make the arrangements for you.” It felt like something was blocking my throat. After a moment, I managed to squeeze out a few words: “Okay.” “Seven days from now. I’ll go to Australia to study.” Mrs. Montgomery nodded silently, sighed deeply, and left the room. I stared up at the pristine white ceiling, my mind flashing through the events of the past three days like a movie reel. How did Weston and I end up like this? 4 Three years ago, Weston and I had just reached the stage of meeting the parents. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery didn’t treat me with the warm enthusiasm they did now. Instead, they looked down on me—a girl from a rural town, completely mismatched for their prestigious family. Furthermore, I had no parents, only a terminally ill grandfather. Weston hated his family’s elitism because of this and secretly planned to elope with me. But I stopped him, earnestly telling him: “Your parents are doing this for your own good. That’s why they disagree.” “Let’s take a break for a while. Once I’m in a better place, I’ll go to your house and convince them, okay?” But we didn’t make it to that point before things took a drastic turn. My grandfather, dragging his dying, withered body, went to beg Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery. He even signed the papers to donate his body to the medical research hospital owned by the Montgomery family, serving as a rare cadaver for science. By the time I found out, my grandfather was already gone, his body sent to the dissection room. While I was having a breakdown over his death, another tragedy struck. Stella Harrington had recently returned from abroad. Coveting Weston, she drugged him and took him to a hotel, attempting to force herself on him. I busted into the room at the very last second and called the cops. Of course, calling the cops did nothing to the powerful Harrington family. But the trauma of the event triggered a severe psychological breakdown in Weston. He lost his ability to care for himself and forgot who everyone was. Later, with professional treatment, he physically recovered, but his personality had drastically changed. And… he forgot me. Thinking of the past brought a wave of inexplicable bitterness to my heart. If Weston and I had never met or fallen in love, none of this would have happened. My ever-smiling grandfather wouldn’t have given his life just to secure my future. But overthinking was useless. Weston’s parents suddenly became incredibly warm to me, asking me to care for Weston for three years and agreeing to our marriage. I originally thought my grandfather’s death should have meaning—that I should fulfill his dying wish and find my happiness. But I didn’t expect that these past three years would bring me no happiness at all. Now, the three-year deadline had arrived. Weston wanted to marry me, but I didn’t want to marry him anymore. Now, I just wanted to go far away and live my own life. 5 In my dreams, I saw my grandfather’s ashen face and heard Weston’s crying. When I woke up from the nightmare, it was already the next day. Half my pillowcase was soaked—I didn’t know if it was tears or sweat. I struggled to sit up and checked the time. Six days left until I departed. Weston still hadn’t shown up, which put my mind at ease. It was better not to see him; I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. But speak of the devil. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, a commotion erupted outside my door. Weston’s voice came through clearly: “Are you people working for the Montgomery family? Can’t you see who I am? I’m Weston Montgomery! Let me in!” It seemed his parents had stationed bodyguards at the door, afraid he would hurt me again. However, it was useless. The door was forcefully shoved open by Weston. He froze for a second when he saw my head wrapped in bandages, a flash of awkwardness crossing his face. He took two steps forward, handed me a thermos of chicken soup, and said coldly: “I personally cooked your favorite chicken soup. Drink it.” I shook my head and smiled faintly: “No thanks.” “I’m allergic to chicken.” Weston stared at me in disbelief for a long moment, then let out a scoff and sat down nearby: “Allergic? Then how come you never said you were allergic every single time I made you cook chicken soup for me?” “You’re still mad, aren’t you? Fine, I shouldn’t have hit you that hard. But you shouldn’t have hit someone either. Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? Everyone in our circle knows you are my dog. When you go around hitting people and making a fool of yourself, isn’t it my reputation on the line? How am I supposed to show my face in public?” I suddenly understood. To Weston, I was his dog, his follower, but not his girlfriend. The Weston who once deeply despised his family’s status because he couldn’t marry me now had “the Montgomery family” in every other sentence. He had changed completely. I was so foolish. I thought that by taking care of him meticulously for three years, he could go back to how he used to be. I forgot that maybe this version of him was his true self. Seeing my silence, Weston snorted coldly. Frowning, he took the soup out of the thermos and literally tried to force it into my mouth: “I made this. The least you could do is taste it!” “Drink it! Drink! I refuse to believe it’ll actually kill you!” Despite my struggling, a few drops of the broth got into my mouth. Instantly, I felt an intense itching all over my body, and my cheeks started burning up. I swatted the soup away, spilling it all over the floor and splashing it on Weston’s shoes. He looked up furiously, about to curse at me, but froze when he saw my face. He immediately screamed: “Nurse! Get in here! Someone is having an allergic reaction!” In his panicked pupils, I could see the reflection of my bandaged, swollen face, puffed up like a balloon. The bodyguards rushed in and pulled Weston out. Right before he was dragged away, he still stubbornly shouted: “How can the allergy be this severe?! You’ve cooked it for me a hundred times! You were never this delicate before!” “Suddenly acting so fragile—it’s ridiculous! Are you trying to play the victim so I’ll feel sorry for you? Disgusting!” I lay calmly on the bed, accepting the nurse’s treatment. My blood felt frozen, but my heart was completely still. I was used to it. Weston always found a way to paint me as a manipulative schemer, throwing dirty water on me just to make himself feel better. I had made chicken soup for him many times. But every single time, I took heavy-duty allergy medication beforehand just so I could taste-test the seasoning. He loved chicken soup. When we were first together, he found out I was allergic and wouldn’t even let me touch chicken. Once, a delivery place accidentally included chicken in my order, sending me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. Weston blamed himself endlessly. After that, whenever we ordered takeout or ate at a restaurant, he would call ahead or march into the kitchen to interrogate the chef about exactly what kind of meat was in the dishes. Times had changed. People had changed. 6 After the injection, I fell into a deep sleep. I woke up at night. Weston was sitting by my bed, his eyes bloodshot. His face was full of heartache. For a split second, I thought he remembered me. My heart raced, and I called out shakily: “Wes?” But the next second, his expression shifted. He looked at me coldly and nodded: “Just like Stella said. Everything you did these past few days was just to make me feel sorry for you!” “A grown woman playing these pathetic games… It’s disgusting. Even if you married into the Montgomery family, I’d feel like you stained our name!” After ranting, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for an explanation. Over the past three years, whenever he yelled at me for anything big or small, I would anxiously explain myself, terrified he would have a bad impression of me when he recovered his memory. But now, I just glanced at him indifferently and said nothing. Weston clearly didn’t expect me to have zero reaction. His face turned red with anger, and he pointed at me: “Harper! What is with your attitude lately?! Do you really think I can’t live without you?” “I canceled several dates—I didn’t even go to dinner with Stella—just to stay here with you, and you’re giving me attitude?!” “Fine, I admit you got hurt badly this time, and you were wronged. Okay, we’ll let it go. Once you’re fully recovered, we’ll discuss the wedding date. We’ll get married. Consider it compensation. Happy now?” Hearing his “compromising” tone at the end, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The more I thought about it, the funnier it got. I started laughing hysterically, laughing until I coughed. Weston’s face turned deathly pale. He stared at me intently: “What are you laughing at?” I shook my head, coughing wildly for a moment before quieting down. I looked calmly at the man who was now a complete stranger and said faintly: “I’m laughing at your confidence. Did I ever say I was going to marry you?” “I told you at the family dinner the other day: I won’t marry you. What’s the point of using marriage as compensation now? You might as well just give me five hundred thousand dollars. The Montgomery family has plenty of money, don’t they?” Weston was stunned. He stumbled back a few steps, nearly falling to the floor. He shook his head: “How did you become like this?” I didn’t answer, just looking at him with a half-smile, intent on carving the word “gold-digger” into his brain. Even now, I couldn’t bear to say cruel things to him. So let’s just make sure neither of us has a good impression of the other. That way, when he eventually remembers me, he won’t be too sad. After all, I’m just a gold-digger. Weston seemed to have suffered a huge shock. He stood frozen for a long time, then finally nodded: “Fine. You want money? No problem. I’ll have finance wire it to your card tomorrow!” “For three years, I tried to give you money to get rid of you, but you refused. I actually thought you were a good woman. I didn’t realize you just thought the price was too low. Now you’re opening your mouth like a lion!” “Disgusting!” With that, he turned and left, slamming the door violently behind him. After he left, I heard his suppressed sobs through the door. I gripped the blanket tightly, then released it, turning my face toward the window. A crescent moon hung in the sky outside. It was the third day. Five more days, and I would be gone. Some ties should have been cut long ago.

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While ordering late-night snacks for my boyfriend, I followed a popular internet joke and messaged the delivery driver to check up on him. He quickly sent a photo: “Your boyfriend seems to be cheating; a woman opened the door.” I was furious and immediately took a taxi to catch him in the act. But on the way, I encountered a thug, was dragged into an alley, and brutally raped to death. My boyfriend was devastated and arranged my funeral. He never married and showed no signs of cheating. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the night I ordered takeout for my boyfriend. I immediately blocked that delivery driver and had a new one deliver the food. But I still received a call: “Miss, your boyfriend seems to be living with another woman…” … Hearing the delivery driver’s voice through the receiver, a violent shudder ripped through my body. In my past life, it was this exact phone call that sent me spiraling. I had hailed a cab in the dead of night, desperately rushing across state lines to the city where my boyfriend, Miles, was stationed for a work project. But I never made it to his apartment. Just steps away from his building, I was dragged into a blind alley by a group of men. I was brutalized. I was murdered. The killers left almost no evidence behind, and the case quickly grew cold. It was Miles who refused to let it go. He hired the country’s most elite private investigators, liquidating every asset he had to fund a relentless manhunt. “Claire, if I hadn’t taken that out-of-town project, you wouldn’t have missed me. You wouldn’t have come looking for me,”he had wept at my funeral, his voice shattered. “It’s my fault. I killed you.” “Even if I have to sell my house, even if I have to sell my own kidney, I will find the bastards who did this to you.” He was entirely consumed. By the time he was barely thirty, his hair had turned entirely white from the agonizing, sleepless years on the road. When the perpetrators were finally caught, Miles buried me in his family’s private estate, claiming me as his wife in death. He lived the rest of his days utterly alone, guarding my memory. There was never another woman. Never a whisper of infidelity. Remembering all of this, a heavy, suffocating ache bloomed in my chest. Miles had loved me with a devotion that transcended death, and yet, here I was, having dared to doubt him. I abruptly hung up the phone. I didn’t know why this new delivery driver—a completely different person from my past life, since I had purposely requested a change on the app—was still trying to smear Miles’s name. But in this life, I didn’t care what anyone said. I would never doubt him again. After washing my face, I curled up on the living room sofa, letting the quiet dark of the apartment wash over me as I sifted through the fragmented memories of my past life. Suddenly, the front door clicked open. My best friend, Blair, stepped inside, shaking out her umbrella. She froze when she saw me in the dim light, her eyes widening. “Claire? Why are you still just lying around?” “Should I be doing something else?” Meeting my confused gaze, Blair bit off the rest of her sentence. Her eyes darted to the side—a fleeting, almost imperceptible shift. Then, she forced a bright smile. “I just meant, with the thunderstorm outside… you know how terrified you are of lightning. I figured you’d be pacing a hole in the floor, not lounging like a cat.” Her tone was warm, dripping with that familiar, protective sincerity. But my heart turned to lead. She was lying. Blair, Miles, and I had been inseparable since our freshman year of college. We were the quintessential trio, bound by promises of lifelong loyalty. I knew Blair just as intimately as I knew Miles. That split-second eye dart? That was her tell. I opened my mouth to press her, but a piercing ring shattered the silence. My phone. It was the delivery driver again. I moved to decline it, but Blair was faster. She snatched the phone from the coffee table, swiped accept, and instantly hit the speaker button. A gruff, gravelly voice echoed through the room. “Look, lady, I’m only speaking up because I saw the ‘Happy Birthday, Hubby’ note on the cake box. The guy who took this order? He had his arms wrapped around some other girl. It wasn’t exactly friendly. Don’t let some trash guy play you for a fool.” Before I could process the words, a notification chimed. A video file from the driver in my app messages. The footage was shaky, shot from the hallway. A door opened just a crack. A man reached out to grab the takeout bags, and a woman was clinging to his bicep, pressing herself against him in a cloying, intimate way. When the man lifted his chin to thank the driver, the hallway light caught his face perfectly. It was Miles. My brow furrowed. The air in the room felt suddenly very thin. What the hell was going on? The delivery app assigned drivers at random. There was no conceivable way this stranger was in on a prank. Was Miles actually cheating on me? While my mind spun, Blair slammed her palm onto the glass coffee table, her face twisting in fury. “That son of a bitch! How dare he do this to you!” She grabbed my wrist, pulling me up. “Come on, Claire. We are driving over there right now. We are going to catch that cheating bastard and his little tramp dead to rights in that bed. He is going to look you in the eye and give you an explanation!” She was practically dragging me toward the door. I was still numb, stumbling in her wake, when Blair suddenly doubled over with a sharp gasp. “Oh my god, it hurts!” she cried out, dropping to her knees, her face draining of color. A chilling wave of déjà vu washed over me. This was exactly how it happened in my past life. Blair had been absolutely enraged by the infidelity, insisting I go confront him, promising to drive me herself. But right as we reached the front door, she was struck by a sudden, agonizing bout of stomach cramps. She couldn’t stop throwing up. So, I went alone. And I died screaming on the asphalt outside Miles’s apartment complex. A terrifying, pitch-black theory began to take root in my mind. In my previous life, the detectives eventually concluded that my murder wasn’t a random mugging gone wrong. It was a premeditated hit. I had been lured to that specific location. But the most maddening part was that the police never caught the mastermind. The thugs they arrested had taken a vow of silence to protect whoever hired them. “We did it on our own! It has nothing to do with anyone else!” they had spit at the judge. “Give us the chair, we don’t care!” So, who was the puppet master? I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the nausea rising in my throat. I didn’t want to follow this thought to its logical, devastating conclusion. Blair was still groaning on the floor, clutching her stomach, but between her winces, she was looking up at me. Urging me. Pushing me out the door. Beneath the feigned pain, her eyes glittered with a dark, impatient anticipation. Every word of outrage she had spoken on my behalf suddenly echoed in my ears not as support, but as a death warrant. I slowly looked down at her. I forced my breathing to slow, keeping my voice utterly level. “Blair, why are you so desperate for me to leave the apartment tonight?” I watched her face carefully. “Why are you so absolutely certain there’s no misunderstanding? Why jump straight to the conclusion that Miles has betrayed me?” The color vanished from Blair’s lips. She stared at me, her mouth slightly open, entirely speechless. My heart dropped another agonizing inch. A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. Ring! My phone lit up again. A FaceTime call. From Miles. I answered. His face filled the screen, handsome and glowing with that soft, familiar affection. He offered me a gentle, teasing smile. “Hey, babe. Did you order me midnight snacks? Miss me that much?” He leaned closer to the camera. “I saw the weather app. It’s pouring back home, isn’t it? You hate the thunder, so I figured I’d stay on video with you. Keep you company.” Looking at his tender expression, hearing the soothing cadence of his voice… it had only been a few minutes since I woke up in this timeline, but it felt like an eternity had passed. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes. I wanted to spill everything to him. But before I could even form a syllable, a woman’s breathy, teasing giggle drifted from the background of his end. “Babe, let’s do Iceland next month, okay?” I stared at the screen, every muscle in my body locking up. In the corner of the frame, just for a fraction of a second, I saw a cascade of long, golden-blonde hair. The next second, Miles’s eyes widened in sheer panic. The camera jerked wildly as he practically sprinted out of the room, slamming a door behind him. Bang! It felt like a bomb had detonated inside my skull. The ambient noise of the apartment faded into a high-pitched ringing. Through the phone, Miles’s voice dripped with manufactured concern. “Claire? Honey, your face just went completely pale. Are you okay?” Blair had crawled up beside me. She saw the whole thing. Her face flushed crimson with rage. Without asking, she snatched the phone from my hand, hung up on Miles, and began pacing the room, hurling every curse word in the English language at him. When she finally ran out of breath, she looked at me with hesitant, pitying eyes. She pulled out her own phone and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Claire… do you understand now why I wanted you to catch him with your own eyes? I… I wasn’t going to tell you this.” She unlocked her phone and pulled up her private message thread with Miles. She held the screen out to me. My eyes widened in absolute horror. The screen was filled with paragraphs of sickeningly sweet, obsessive texts. All from Miles. To Blair. [Blair, that night at the freshman mixer? You were the one I wanted to ask out. But you started talking to that guy from the football team, so I settled for Claire instead.] [I haven’t felt anything for her in years. Honestly, touching her makes my skin crawl. If it weren’t for the fact that you pulled away, and the only way I could see you was by staying close to her, I would have dumped that frumpy bore ages ago.] The timestamps were damning. Even just moments ago, while he was supposedly comforting me about the thunderstorm, he was texting his devotion to my best friend. [Blair, I’m just playing a part with her. You’re the only one I love. When I get back from this trip, I’m ending things with Claire. I’m coming for you.] My hands shook uncontrollably as I tapped on Miles’s profile picture in her phone. I checked his number, his handle, his linked social accounts. It was him. No fake accounts. No hacks. The man who shared my bed, the man who claimed to love me, had been telling my best friend I disgusted him. Thick, hot tears spilled over my eyelashes and splashed onto the screen. We had been together for almost a decade. How had I been so completely, utterly blind to the monster hiding behind his smile? But the math still didn’t make sense. If he despised me, why did he sacrifice his youth, his sanity, and his wealth to avenge my murder in the past life? Was it the butterfly effect? Did my decision to stay home tonight change his feelings? Or was he always cheating, and the tragic, devoted widower routine was nothing but an elaborate, calculated cover-up? Blair sighed, wrapping her arms around me in a tight, suffocating hug. “Claire, I didn’t know how to tell you. Stuff like this… it destroys friendships. Once the truth is out, things are never the same.” “That’s why I wanted you to see it for yourself. But if you don’t want to go confront him now… we don’t have to. Just know that whatever you decide, I am here. I will always support you.” I offered a hollow nod, murmuring something noncommittal. I pulled away from her, walked into my bedroom, and collapsed onto the mattress. I felt like every drop of blood had been drained from my veins. Too many puzzle pieces were scattered in my mind, and none of them fit. Was Miles cheating? Why did Blair lie about expecting me to be awake? Who was I supposed to trust? And the most terrifying question of all: Who was the mastermind who paid to have me butchered in the dark? Suddenly, a loud, urgent knocking echoed from the front door. Helen, Miles’s mother, bustled into the apartment, her face glowing with breathless excitement. She hoisted a massive, velvet-wrapped jewelry box in the air. “Claire, sweetheart! Look what just arrived. The custom bridal suite is finally ready. Come see!” She set it on the table, practically vibrating with pride. “Miles said the engagement ring he gave you last year wasn’t enough. He knows you grew up in the foster system, that you never had a real family to spoil you. So, he wanted to make sure you felt like a queen.” “He picked every stone himself. It’s top-tier platinum and flawless diamonds. He liquidated his entire stock portfolio to pay for this.” The box popped open. A blinding array of diamonds caught the light—a breathtaking necklace, cascading earrings, a tennis bracelet, and a massive, custom-cut ring. The craftsmanship was so exquisite it felt unreal. Miles and I had been together for eight years. He had proposed three times. But because I grew up moving between group homes, lacking any blueprint for a healthy marriage, I had always been terrified of taking the final step. I kept stalling. Before he left for this trip, he had held me tight and laughed gently. “Take all the time you need, Claire. I’m not going anywhere. But I’m buying the wedding jewelry now, and I’m getting you the best in the world. You deserve it.” In my past life, even though I died before we could say our vows, he had placed this exact, impossibly expensive jewelry suite inside my casket. Later, to fund the private investigators tracking my killers, he had sold his own home. That unwavering financial sacrifice was the anchor of my trust in him. If a man was truly betraying you, why would he willingly bankrupt himself for your memory? Seeing my resolve waver, Blair frantically grabbed my arm. “Claire, wake up! You cannot marry this man! Did you already forget what he was doing behind your back ten minutes ago?” Helen’s face drained of its joy. Insulted and determined to prove Blair wrong, she whipped out her phone and dialed Miles on FaceTime. When the video connected, the background noise was chaotic—loud music, clinking glasses. Helen’s voice turned icy. “Miles, what exactly are you doing right now?” Miles’s exhausted but cheerful face appeared. “Mom! Hey. The project wrapped up early, so we’re celebrating. I threw a little party for the team at the rental.” He panned the camera around the room. There were about seven or eight people in business casual attire holding drinks. In the corner, the blonde woman from the earlier video was draped over another male coworker, posing for a selfie. Miles rolled his eyes at the camera and lowered his voice. “She’s the new intern. Terrible at her job, completely lacks boundaries with the guys. Mom, please don’t tell Claire she’s here. You know how Claire hates girls who act like that. I don’t want her getting upset over nothing.” Hearing the explanation, Helen let out a massive sigh of relief. She hung up the phone and studied my face carefully, choosing her words. “Claire… has there been some sort of misunderstanding between you two lately?” “My son treats you like you hang the moon. He would never do anything to hurt you.” Then, her gaze snapped to Blair, hardening into a glare. “Unlike some people, who threw themselves at my son in college, got rejected, and never quite got over it. People who use the title of ‘best friend’ just to try and poison my daughter-in-law’s marriage!” I followed Helen’s piercing glare. I saw Blair’s face turn completely white. I saw the flash of raw, naked panic in her eyes. In that fleeting second, the fragments of my past life and the bizarre events of tonight slammed together in my mind. A bolt of lightning illuminated the dark. I finally understood. I knew exactly what was happening. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, who had ordered my murder. It was the one person I had never, ever suspected.

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