Category: English

Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been a massive poser. My dad was a gambling addict, my sister was an aspiring cam girl, my little brother was a violent sociopath, my grandmother was a raging misogynist, and I… I was a shameless poser. Until one day, I found out I was actually the biological daughter of the richest man in the state. After being brought back into the billionaire family, the very first thing I did was show off. The second thing I did was forget my roots. The third thing I did was post: [I don’t need a lot of money; I need a lot of love.] 1 Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been broke and a massive poser. Even though my family was dirt poor, I pretended to be incredibly wealthy at school. My dad was a gambling addict who owed a mountain of debt and spent years hiding out of state, working odd jobs. My mom ran off with another man and we never heard from her again. Whenever my classmates talked about their parents, I’d say mine were high-level corporate executives who flew around the world every day. “Yeah… they’re super busy. I barely see them a few times a year. But I mean, they do give me a few tens of thousands a month for an allowance.” “I just play golf in my free time, travel around, you know, the usual.” A rich classmate bought a new Miu Miu hair clip and asked why I never wore designer brands. I stared at my fingernails with practiced indifference. “My parents always tell me to keep a low profile, so they only buy me niche, boutique brands. This sweater I’m wearing was custom-made by hand in France.” I discreetly hid the unravelling thread on my sleeve and offered a perfect, condescending smile. “Compared to those mass-produced luxury goods, it’s the difference between something with a soul and something without one, obviously.” For the end-of-the-year talent show, the rehearsal fees and costumes cost a total of two hundred dollars. I was the only person in the entire class who didn’t participate. I raised my hand elegantly. “Teacher, I’ll pass on the rehearsals. I have my one-on-one private piano lessons every day.” After school, a classmate asked me: “Chloe, why isn’t your driver here to pick you up yet?” I intentionally dawdled, refusing to leave. “I told my driver to bring the blue Ferrari today. It might take a little longer. Ugh, I’m used to it. Getting the car ready takes time, after all.” My classmate: “Okay, well, I’m going to head out.” 2 I didn’t dare sneak out of the school gates until every single person was gone, running all the way back to my cramped, dingy house. My younger sister, who was a year younger than me, had her face caked in heavy makeup and was live-streaming some borderline-inappropriate dance. She used to date some punk with bleached blonde hair at school, constantly got into fights, and was eventually expelled. Seeing me walk in, she answered a phone call, then immediately started bossing me around: “Hey, sis. Spot me eight bucks. I’ll pay you back when I get some cash.” I rolled my eyes at her and rejected her flat out. “No.” “Ew, are you looking down on me?” She flew into a rage and glared at me. Then she screamed into her phone: “It’s just a cup of boba! Do you think I can’t afford it?! “Girl, emergency. Spot me some cash.” She started calling her “gang” of street friends one by one. After making dozens of calls, she finally managed to scrape together eight dollars. She smugly winked at me. “Once we’re out in the real world, we’ll see who’s really the boss!” Absolutely delusional. My fingers twitched, suppressing the overwhelming urge to slap her across the face. Whatever. It had nothing to do with me anyway. 3 When I got back to my room, I found that the hundred-dollar bill I had in my drawer was missing. That was the money I had painstakingly saved up, trading all my loose change for one crisp, new bill, specifically so I wouldn’t expose my lie when paying the class fees. “Who touched my things?” My grandmother, holding my violent, sociopathic little brother in the kitchen, looked guilty and wouldn’t meet my eyes. I walked right up to her and asked blankly: “Did you steal my money?” “What do you mean ‘steal’?! You’re the older sister, what’s wrong with spending a little money on your brother?” She shoved me hard, not forgetting to add sarcastically: “Who knows how you even got that money anyway? Tsk, tsk. Better to spend it on my precious grandson.” My six-year-old sociopathic brother was utterly fearless. He giggled and made a face at me. “I took it! So what?! Grandma said your money is my money. “If you dare yell at me, I’ll tell Daddy to come back and beat you to death!” I looked down at him and let out two cold laughs. When our dad was around, I had to act meek and submissive to survive, catering to this little “golden boy’s” every whim. But now that the gambling addict had fled out of state to dodge his debts, he wasn’t coming back for at least six months to a year. It was time to show them who the real master of this house was. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into my small room. Before the old hag could even react, I swiftly locked the bedroom door. I rolled my wrists, a wicked smile spreading across my face. “Hehe.” I backhanded him twice across the face. He was stunned by the slaps, not daring to move an inch. A few seconds later, he burst into wails and charged at me, trying to hit me. I easily subdued him with a few more slaps. “Still want to fight back?” Hearing the kid crying inside, the old hag outside started frantically pounding on the door. While simultaneously cursing: “Chloe! How dare you hit your brother! Let him go! Oh my god, my precious baby…” I didn’t say a word. I just kept slapping him. Finally, the old hag outside broke. She compromised: “Chloe! I’ll give the money back! Let my grandson out right now!” “Money first. Slide it under the door.” “Here! Here!” She slid a bill through the crack under the door. I let go of my brother, whose cheeks were both swollen, and unceremoniously snatched the bill from the floor. After rubbing it between my fingers, I licked the corner of my lips. “Double the compensation, and I’ll let him go.” “You! You’re breaking your promise!” The old hag slumped against the door handle, looking like she was about to faint. But the sound of another slap from inside instantly woke her up. “If you don’t hand it over, your grandson might get beaten to death.” She sounded like she was having a complete breakdown: “I’ll give it to you! I’m giving it to you, stop hitting your brother!” After receiving the second bill, I satisfactorily let him out. “You… you have such a vicious heart!” The old hag hugged her grandson at the door, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Thank you for the compliment.” I offered a shamelessly sweet smile. 4 Acting as if nothing happened, I pushed past the two of them and slammed a bill down in front of my wannabe-gangster sister. “From now on, don’t tell anyone outside that I’m your sister. If you see me, pretend you don’t know me. Understand?!” Last time, she almost ruined all my hard work by shouting my name at school. Thankfully, my poser skills were top-notch. I claimed she was our maid’s daughter, and no one questioned it. This money was compensation for her silence. My sister looked at me with a lazy, sideways glance. “If you ever need anything, come find me, your big sis Lily. I’ll remember this favor. My street connections are at your beck and call.” I closed my eyes, forcing a smile after a long pause. “Just don’t say you know me. That’s all I need. Thanks.” The old hag yelled from the side: “Lily, if you dare take that money, I’ll have your father beat you to death! Chloe is being ridiculous, and you’re playing along?! “Give that money back to Grandma right now!” My sociopathic brother glared at us with pure hatred, crying and screaming: “You’re all bullying me! I’m going to beat you to death!” Acting like she couldn’t hear them, Lily started calling her “sisters.” “Let’s go. Big sis Lily is treating today. I’m taking you all out for a feast.” I sighed, went back to my room, and shut the door. What kind of cursed, catastrophic starting stats were these?! Whatever, time to read some revenge fantasy web novels. I found a novel about a real vs. fake heiress. When I read the female lead’s background story, I almost cried. What was the difference between her and me?! Oh, right. She wasn’t as good a poser as I was. Thinking about this, I suddenly lost interest and opened Xiaohongshu (a lifestyle/social media app similar to Instagram/Pinterest). The “stealth wealth” posts I scrolled past almost made me die of anger. Shanghai Princess: [Haha, you’re so funny. When I was studying in the US, my Ivy League friends never understood these jokes. I still prefer hanging out with you guys. Being alone in Beverly Hills gets so lonely. It’s so nice to be back in China. But I’ll only be at Harvard for a short time anyway, I still have to go back to Beijing. Even though my official residency is in Shanghai, my parents bought me a villa in the Beijing Manor estate in the East Third Ring Road to live in.] I had previously tried to build a rich-girl persona online, but I got exposed and had to delete my account. Right now, I was studying these posts frame-by-frame, determined to make a comeback. Just as I was thinking this, my sociopathic brother, who only bullied the weak and feared the strong, started pounding on my door. He had called his dad to complain. “She hit me! How dare she hit me! Waaah… “Isn’t her money my money?! Daddy, come back quickly and sell her for cash! Didn’t you say she was only here to pay for my future wife?!” And the old hag added fuel to the fire: “Exactly. She’s completely out of control. Because no one’s here to discipline her, she’s bullying my precious grandson, and she even knows how to steal my money now. “Oh my god, my life is so miserable…” “Shut up!” I gripped my blanket tightly and roared viciously. The noise outside the door stopped. Immediately, my gambling addict dad called me. “You little bitch, do you have a death wish?! Just wait until I get back and show you a lesson! You can forget about your two hundred dollar allowance this month! “Apologize to your brother and your grandmother right now!” I hung up the phone, grinding my teeth. I scrolled through my photo album and found a picture of my brother. I didn’t even need to edit it to make him look ugly; his natural face was already abstract enough. I used my burner account to create a post on Xiaohongshu, asking if he could be a child model. Watching the hate comments rapidly rolling in, I peacefully closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. 5 With my allowance gone, and the old hag watching me like a hawk, I didn’t even have the chance to start a fight. After pinching pennies for a few days, I literally couldn’t afford lunch at school. My classmates curiously asked why I wasn’t eating. With 30% elegance, 30% disdain, and 40% careless indifference, I replied: “My parents said the food here isn’t healthy and told me not to eat it. “My family’s Michelin-starred chef prepares custom, high-end meals for me every day. You wouldn’t understand.” Someone questioned: “Then why are you drinking the school’s water?” I remained perfectly composed. “Usually, my family’s water is flown in directly from icebergs. But it’s too much of a hassle, and I’m not that delicate. I’m just treating it as experiencing the common life.” … When I got home that night, I froze the moment I walked in. My bedroom door had been smashed open, and everything inside was completely trashed and thrown everywhere. I rushed to the side of my bed and crouched down. The hundred-dollar bill I had hidden under the bedframe was gone. The old hag and her grandson were hiding in their bedroom. I pounded on the door with all my might but couldn’t get it open, leaving me completely powerless and furious. The living room was completely bare. There wasn’t a single cent left. What was I going to do? The class fees were due tomorrow. I had to swallow my pride, kneel outside their door, and beg her to give the money back. “The class fees are due tomorrow! That money is incredibly important to me. Please, I’m begging you, give it back…” Her mocking, sarcastic voice drifted out from inside: “Now you come begging me? Heh, impossible! “Just wait to embarrass yourself tomorrow!” I was so angry I could die. Just wait. The day I get rich, the very first thing I’m going to do is slap you to death. But mental fantasies weren’t going to solve my immediate problem. I agonized all night, having absolutely no idea what to do. In the morning, my sister handed me a five-dollar bill, winking at me sleazily. “Short on cash? However much you need, you can just ask your big sis! With my street connections, tsk, I can definitely scrape it together for you.” Heh. Thanks, but no thanks. I forced a tight smile, grabbed my backpack, and hurried out. 6 The entire way to school, I was trapped in a state of absolute panic and breakdown. What was I going to do? If I couldn’t even produce this tiny amount of money, my cover would be blown. Everyone would look down on me and isolate me. I would be ruined! It felt like I was standing in pitch darkness, with countless eyes staring at me, pointing fingers at me. HONK! HONK! HONK! The piercing sound of a car horn violently yanked me back to reality. I stood frozen in place, looking left and right. I was… in the middle of crossing the street? “Are you blind?! Do you not have eyes?!” The car window rolled down, and a man wearing sunglasses roared furiously. He carried an aura of absolute superiority; one look and you knew he was a wealthy second-generation heir from an affluent family. And he was driving a blue Ferrari. If only it were mine. Snapping out of my unrealistic fantasy, I meekly apologized: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention just now.” When he saw my face clearly, the man suddenly froze. He opened the door, stepped out of the car, pulled me to the side, and asked with a frown: “What is your name?” “Huh?” I didn’t know what he was getting at, but I answered obediently: “Chloe Vance.” “Mm… you weren’t scared just now, were you? I was definitely too impatient.” He suddenly raised his hand and rubbed my head firmly. “Leave me your contact info. If you feel unwell later, just contact me. I can compensate you.” Why did this guy’s attitude change so fast? I nodded slowly, completely failing to notice that he had just plucked a few strands of hair from my head. Even though something felt a bit off, my vanity ultimately won out. While he was getting back into his car, I secretly snapped a picture of the luxury sports car on my phone. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist, flawless face, and superior aura, he was the absolute perfect prop for my poser facade. “Wow, is that really your brother?” “Of course! He dropped me off at school today.” Girls around me started screaming: “Oh my god, he’s so hot!!!” I proudly lifted my chin. “My brother is usually incredibly busy attending to various business engagements. He barely managed to carve out some time today to keep me company. “Like I told you guys before, this Ferrari is just the standard model. We have dozens of cars like this in our garage.” Gasps of awe echoed around me. Basking in their envious and jealous stares, I played the part flawlessly. “It’s really no big deal.” 7 When it was time to collect the class fees, I was the only person in the entire class who hadn’t paid. The teacher looked around the room, while I, forcing myself to remain calm, raised my hand. “Teacher, my family always just gives me a credit card. I don’t carry cash.” “You didn’t bring any?” The teacher frowned, then said, “Well, you can just have your parents Venmo it to me.” “Teacher, my parents are out of the country on a business trip. They’re incredibly busy and don’t have time for things like this.” I could lie through my teeth without even blushing. “It’s fine. I’ll just give your parents a call later. “Everyone except Chloe has paid, right? Since we have almost everything, I’ll take my leave.” She didn’t give me a chance to argue further and walked right out of the classroom. I gritted my teeth, having absolutely no idea what to do. I could only pray that my gambling addict father wouldn’t answer the phone. Otherwise, the persona I had painstakingly crafted over the past two years would be completely destroyed. Swallowing hard, I hesitantly opened the contacts app on my phone. Ask that rich guy for money? But why on earth would he help me? I was dreaming. I don’t know how long I sat there spacing out before my homeroom teacher suddenly called my name from the doorway. “Chloe, step out here for a minute.” It’s over. My heart, which had been hanging by a thread, completely died. Following her out into the hallway, I spoke stiffly, like a wooden puppet: “Teacher, is something wrong?” She looked at me sternly. “Chloe, why are you lying?” I kept my head down, not daring to speak. The students inside the classroom were whispering amongst themselves. I could feel their gazes darting toward me, every single one filled with malicious curiosity. “Your father said he doesn’t know anything about this! He said that at home, not only do you bully your little brother and your grandmother, but you’ve also started stealing money!” Her tone was filled with disappointment. “I never expected you to be such a vain person. Lying and deceiving your teachers and classmates at school…” Watching her lips moving, a loud ringing sound engulfed my ears. The overwhelming sense of humiliation from years ago surrounded me once again. It felt like I was back in kindergarten. Because my family was poor and my parents weren’t there to defend me, everyone bullied me and ostracized me. “Chloe is so pitiful, she doesn’t even have a mommy or daddy…” “Let’s go. Don’t play with her. She looks dirty.” Even when playing games, they would intentionally push me to the ground. “Teacher! I saw her cheat! She stepped on the line!” “Yeah, I saw it too!” “Me too!” … And now, my classmates were doing the same. Countless dark shadows pointed fingers at me, their gazes aggressive and invasive. “So Chloe was faking it the whole time. How shameless.” “A poor kid trying to play the rich heiress. I knew I couldn’t stand her!” “Let’s all stay away from her…” I didn’t do anything! Countless hands pushed me into a cramped, suffocating corner. The most innocent-looking malice poured down on me like dirty water. What exactly did I do wrong? Why did they all isolate me and bully me? Just as I felt like I was going to lose my mind, I suddenly felt a warm embrace. I looked up blankly and saw the older brother from this morning. He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and ruffled my hair with a look of mock disgust. My brain completely short-circuited. No way. What is he doing here?

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At my absolute lowest point, Liam Vance married me. Everyone said he only married me to spite my younger sister. But when he died in a car accident, he left his entire estate to me. And a voice recorder. Pressing play, his low, raspy voice filled the room— He said: “Chloe, could you… maybe like me back just a little bit?” After all those years, I finally saw the massive, overwhelming love he had hidden beneath the ice. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. My adoptive mother was gripping my hand, saying: “Chloe, will you go to prison in your sister’s place?” 01 Before I turned sixteen, I was the pampered, carefree eldest daughter of the Sterling family. Doted on by my parents and favored by my older brother, my life was perfect. Until Mia showed up with a DNA test, revealing that a nurse had swapped us at birth. She was the real heiress; I was just the imposter who stole her life. I wanted to leave. But my biological parents had passed away long ago, and Mrs. Sterling couldn’t bear to see me become an orphan. So, they officially adopted me. My adoptive parents treated me well, my brother didn’t give me the cold shoulder, and Mia never made things difficult for me. I was grateful. But later, Mia got into an argument backstage with an actress on a movie set. During the scuffle, the actress fell down the stairs and ended up in a vegetative state. There were no security cameras. But someone had to take the fall. And I happened to be there, witnessing the whole thing. My adoptive mother came to me in tears, begging me to take the blame for Mia. Mia knelt in front of me, sobbing, slapping her own face, and begging for my forgiveness. The whole family cried as if their hearts were breaking. So, I nodded. I took the blame, went to prison, and suffered through absolute hell. At first, the Sterling family still came to visit me, crying out of guilt or apology. But slowly, the visits stopped completely. Once, during a prison activity, the warden asked about our plans after release. I thought about it for a long time before carefully writing down: [After I get out, I want to see my mom and dad.] A fellow inmate saw it and laughed at how simple my wish was. “Of course your mom and dad will come pick you up. Why wouldn’t you see them?” I smiled and didn’t argue. But when I was finally released, no one came. Only Mr. Sterling’s assistant showed up. He drove me to the airport and handed me a large sum of money. He didn’t say a single word. But I understood everything. Mom and Dad didn’t want me anymore. The Sterling family had abandoned me. 02 I didn’t take the money. Not out of pride. I just didn’t want to owe the Sterling family anything anymore. They raised me for twenty years; I went to prison for their daughter for five. We were even. I rented a small apartment and ran myself ragged until I finally found a job that didn’t care about my criminal record. But just half a month later, I was fired. After I persistently questioned him, the manager finally stammered out: “You offended someone you shouldn’t have.” I froze, unable to say another word. Someone I shouldn’t have offended. Aside from the Sterling family. Who else could it be? That day, clutching my bag, I walked out onto the street. A fine, misty rain was falling, the cool droplets blowing onto my face and body. As I passed the central plaza, the giant screen was broadcasting a live event featuring Mia. I stopped and looked up. Standing on the award stage, she was breathtakingly beautiful, radiating confidence. The camera panned, and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Sterling looking at her with tears of joy. Looking at her like she was an invaluable treasure, their eyes full of nothing but love. For some reason, I suddenly remembered my adoptive mother visiting me in prison for the first time. Seeing how dangerously thin I had gotten, she cried and promised: “Chloe, after you get out, Mom will take care of you for the rest of your life. Mom loves you.” But the last time I saw her, two years ago, the only emotion left on her face was a faint trace of guilt. She said: “Chloe, Mia is getting engaged to Liam Vance. She really loves him. After you get out, could you leave the city? So the Vance family doesn’t find out about the past.” Liam Vance. The crown prince of the Vance family. We had TVs in prison, so I would occasionally hear about the epic, deep romance between Mia and Liam. Everyone said Liam Vance was a notorious playboy, but he gave it all up for Mia. He even stepped into the entertainment industry he so deeply despised, just to pave the way for her, funneling resources to her, and even personally presenting her awards. Sometimes, I envied Mia. I envied that she had parents who loved her, a boyfriend who adored her, and in her short twenty-something years, she had already achieved both career success and true love. Unlike me. No parents, no career, no lover. And… no one who loved me. 03 As for marrying Liam, that was a complete accident. After getting fired, I moved back to my hometown and worked as a waitress in a restaurant. It was pretty busy. I have no idea how he found out where I was. When he tracked me down, I was serving beers to a customer. The man had too much to drink and started getting handsy. I frowned and slapped him. Enraged, he kicked me hard, knocking me to the ground. Beer and food spilled all over me. It burned. Still not satisfied, the man cursed and raised his hand to hit me again, but the next second, he went dead silent. I opened my eyes and looked straight into a pair of eyes as bright as stars. Liam Vance smirked, though it looked lazy and lacking any real warmth: “Chloe Sterling, you really are here.” I got up, brushed the food scraps off myself, nodded, and tried to walk past him. But I hadn’t taken two steps. When I heard his voice from behind me: “Seeing as you’re in such a pathetic state, want to marry me?” I whipped my head around in shock: “Have you finally lost your mind?” “I’m serious.” Liam looked me over, his eyes dark and unreadable. He sounded completely serious. “To be honest, your sister dumped me, and I’m pissed. And the Sterling family pushed you to this point. I guess we can consider ourselves an alliance of victims.” The yellow streetlight flickered twice before finally burning out. I couldn’t see his face clearly. I could only hear him let out a scoff, the tip of his cigarette glowing a faint red in the dark: “You have absolutely nothing left anyway. Marrying me, you don’t lose anything. What are you afraid of?” I thought about it. I didn’t say anything. He just waited for me quietly. It wasn’t until a cold wind blew past, making me shiver instinctively, that Liam took off his custom-tailored trench coat and draped it over my shoulders. Instantly, my nose was filled with the faint scent of his tobacco. I said: “Okay.” 04 When the news of our marriage broke, everyone was shocked. They all said Liam only married me to spite Mia. At our wedding, when Liam said “I do,” I noticed Mia in the audience, her eyes red from crying, before she lost her composure and fled the venue. I glanced at the man beside me, but he just smiled and didn’t even look her way. As if he had never loved her, as if he truly didn’t care. After we got married, Liam treated me very well. He arranged for me to be his secretary, keeping us tied together every single minute of the day. When I asked him why, he just gave a flirtatious smile: “I can’t feel at ease leaving a beautiful woman alone at home. What if a thief steals you away? I’d be losing out on my own purity.” I laughed at his nonsense. And didn’t bother arguing with him. All those years in prison, I suffered too much. My body couldn’t handle any strain. A normal person’s cold or cough would turn into a major illness for me. Liam hired top specialists from everywhere to treat me, and I finally got a little better. By my hospital bed, he held my hand, looking incredibly serious and devout: “Chloe Sterling, I bought you. Your life belongs to me. You are not allowed to die before I do!” Such childish words. But seeing the faint bitterness in his eyes, I finally nodded. I didn’t understand why he was sad. But I had long since learned not to ask, not to pry. “Okay.” “Till death do us part.” But, in the end, the one who broke the promise. Wasn’t me. It was Liam Vance. 05 “Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance passed away at 3:00 AM yesterday due to a severe car accident, despite our best efforts to save him. “My deepest condolences.” Pushing open the door to the morgue, Liam’s parents were already weeping uncontrollably. Looking at Liam’s deathly pale face, I could only think to myself: God favored him, giving him a family background, looks, and abilities that others could only dream of, but why was God so stingy to only give him thirty-four years? What a shame. What a shame. I handled Liam’s funeral entirely on my own. Even after five years of marriage, many people still didn’t believe in our relationship. Mia, whose love had turned to hate, was constantly waiting for me to become a joke. But no one expected that Liam would leave all his property and shares entirely to me. His parents had no objections. They just left, their backs hunched, their former vitality completely gone. A week later, Liam’s lawyer, Mr. Chen, brought me the asset transfer documents. Before leaving, he handed me a voice recorder: “This was recovered from Mr. Vance’s belongings. I believe you should have it, Madam.” 06 “Chloe Sterling.” From the voice recorder, the man’s voice was cool and clear, laced with a bit of static, making it sound even huskier: “I never married you to spite Mia. I married you because I liked you.” I froze, but my heart remained strangely calm. As if I had expected it. Liam let out a soft laugh: “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but we met a long time ago. “Back then, you were the untouchable ‘ice queen’ of the school. You were incredibly smart, the teachers’ favorite. My mentor was always talking about you. Every time he finished chatting with your teacher, he would angrily tell me—” “Liam Vance, I hate you right now. Stay away from me.” He imitated his mentor’s tone, sounding unexpectedly cute. I instinctively let out a laugh. But the next second, I slowly pulled it back. Liam continued: “I hated you so much back then, but I couldn’t stop looking at you. I guess I’m a bit of a glutton for punishment, hehe. “But later, you went to prison. For so-called intentional assault. “I didn’t believe it. I had to find out the truth, but unfortunately, the Sterling family cleaned up all the evidence perfectly. So, I set my sights on Mia.” So that was it. The legendary, deeply moving romance between Liam and Mia was just an excuse for him to uncover the truth behind my imprisonment. But Liam never expected Mia’s lips to be sealed so tight. But eventually, he still found clues. I suddenly remembered that before we got married, Liam had excitedly asked me one day: “Chloe, do you want revenge?” “No.” I shook my head: “We’re even.” After all these years. I finally understood that on that day, he had probably uncovered the truth. He investigated the truth for me. And for me, he buried it again. It turned out, it was all because of me. The emotions in my eyes trembled violently. My entire body couldn’t stop shaking, and tears fell drop by drop.

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My boyfriend always had this habit of whispering sweet nothings into my ear after he thought I’d fallen asleep. Little things. Baby. Wifey. I love you so much. I had caught him doing it a few times before, but I was always too exhausted to keep my eyes open, letting the exhaustion pull me under. Tonight, though, I wanted to tease him. I kept my breathing even, feigning sleep. Right on cue, his voice dropped into that low, soulful register. “Sweetheart. I love you the most…” My heart melted into a puddle. I cracked my eyes open, throwing my arms wide to pull him into a massive, suffocating hug. Only to find him staring at the glowing screen of his phone, his thumb holding down the voice memo button on iMessage. 01 My arms hung suspended in the dark. To hug, or not to hug. Time seemed to freeze in our dimly lit bedroom. It would have stayed frozen, too, if Tyler hadn’t suddenly looked up, his eyes going wide with sheer panic. He shoved the phone behind his back so fast I heard his elbow crack against the headboard. His mouth opened and closed, but no actual words came out. Slowly, I retracted my awkward, hovering arms. I shoved down the sudden, violent spike of adrenaline in my chest and forced a painfully calm smile. “Who are you sending voice notes to?” Tyler scooted backward, pressing himself against the wall. “Harper… it’s not what you think…” “Give me the phone.” He let out a hollow, synthetic laugh. “Haha, come on, I was just messing around with the boys!” “I said, give me the phone.” What happened next genuinely blew my mind. In the span of three seconds, Tyler’s expression underwent a masterclass in manipulation. When he looked back up at me, his face was a perfectly calibrated mix of thirty percent innocent, forty percent pathetic, and thirty percent deeply offended. His voice actually trembled when he spoke. “Harper! It’s for my work! Is this really the kind of person you think I am?” I didn’t quite understand the sheer audacity of it, but I was spectacularly awestruck. “Tyler, let’s get one thing straight. You’re the one sexting someone else in our bed. Who exactly gave you the audacity to point the finger at me?” I was so furiously angry that a laugh tore out of my throat. I actually started clapping, offering a slow ovation for his performance. I had to admit, the way the corners of his eyes flushed pink, the way his unshed tears caught the bedside light—he looked beautiful. If he didn’t, I never would have given him the time of day to begin with. He was a D-list TikTok thirst-trap, a guy who built an audience by flexing his abs and looking pretty for the camera. He had slid into my DMs claiming he was “obsessed” with the menswear I designed, asking to borrow a few pieces for a shoot. He borrowed the clothes, and eventually, he borrowed his way into my apartment. I was not a woman who believed in love. But Tyler… Tyler was relentless. He was the Good morning, the Did you eat?, the Goodnight texts. He was the one who always had to send the last message. He remembered Valentine’s Day, our anniversaries, the little mundane milestones, slowly, painstakingly building a glittering illusion of romance around me. And now, with his own hands, he had shattered it. My chest felt like it had been carved out with a rusted spoon, but I have always been fiercely proud. I never believed in it anyway, I told myself. Tyler just slipped up and let the mask drop. He was nothing but a harsh lesson, a cosmic reminder that I was right to never expect anything from love. He was an empty, vacuous thing wrapped in attractive packaging. He was a songbird I kept in a gilded cage, and if the bird couldn’t stay loyal, I simply wouldn’t keep him. I am the one throwing him away. I repeated the mantra in my head, desperately trying to convince myself, but the tears blurred my vision anyway, hot and entirely out of my control. “Harper, please…” Tyler leaned in, trying to use his usual boyish charm to coax me down. Except this time, I took a step back. I dodged him. “I messed up. I swear on my life I’ll never do it again, okay?” I crossed my arms defensively over my chest, staring at him. I let the silence stretch out, heavy and suffocating. Tyler abruptly grabbed the water glass from the nightstand and hurled it onto the hardwood floor. It shattered into a hundred pieces. “Fine! Then let’s break up!” “Done.” My immediate, icy response must have stung his fragile ego. He looked stunned, and then, like a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum, he screamed, “Get the hell out! I never want to see you again!” I rolled my eyes, turned on my heel, and marched out to the living room to pack my bags. As a freelance fashion designer hustling from the ground up, I was constantly flying between coasts, living out of suitcases. I barely spent any time at home. If the post-pandemic industry slowdown hadn’t forced me to take a breather, I never would have been home long enough to discover my boyfriend’s little secret. I didn’t have much unpacked anyway. It took me exactly ten minutes to zip up my duffel bag. But right as my hand hit the front doorknob, I froze. Wait a damn minute. I pay the rent on this apartment! The realization hit me like a freight train, followed instantly by a wave of pure rage. I dropped my bag with a heavy thud and marched right back into the bedroom. When Tyler saw me walk back in, the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smug little smirk. He fully believed I’d changed my mind, that I couldn’t bear to leave him. Once upon a time, I thought his boyish arrogance was somewhat endearing. Now, I just wondered how someone so young could be so utterly repulsive. I mirrored his smile, drew in a deep breath from my diaphragm, and said, “Get the hell out.” 02 The more I compromised, the more I felt like a fool. Standing in the center of my apartment, everywhere I looked, I saw traces of Tyler. Worse, the intrusive thoughts began to spiral: What if, while I was traveling for work, he brought other women back here? Into this bed? I physically recoiled from the mattress. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Ugh! I was so angry. I shouldn’t have just kicked him out; I should have cursed him to hell and back and slapped that smug look off his face! And so, at two in the morning, I found myself rage-cleaning. I was crying, violently scrubbing the counters, and tossing all my bedsheets into the washing machine on the hottest cycle. Work had been practically stagnant lately. Life was already hard enough. Why the hell was I volunteering to suffer over love? “Smart women don’t catch feelings, they catch flights. Single, thriving, and building an empire!” Chanting this newly adopted life motto, I threw a couple of clean sweatshirts over my bare mattress and finally cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I was violently jolted awake by a FaceTime call from my best friend. I had texted her in the middle of the night to tell her I got cheated on. The second she woke up at ten a.m. and saw the message, she called. That’s the thing about true best friends; they show up when your world falls apart. “Hey,” I croaked, my eyes swollen to the size of golf balls. Even through the blur, I could see Blair looking at her screen like she’d just seen a ghost. “Holy shit! Harper, did you get jumped?” “Shut up. I’m mourning the death of my love life, do you mind?” She scoffed. “No, you’re looking at this all wrong. Ending a toxic relationship is a cause for celebration! I told you from day one that Tyler was a walking red flag…” She caught the bleak look on my face and quickly pivoted. “Okay, fine, fine, we can mourn. But I’m taking you to a much better place to do it!” An hour later, standing on the edge of a literal cliff with the wind violently whipping my hair across my face, I realized I didn’t know my best friend at all. When she said she was taking me out for a “plunge,” I assumed she meant that new subterranean speakeasy downtown. Bars. Cocktails. Dim lighting. Because of this assumption, I had spent an hour doing a full beat of makeup and poured myself into a custom-designed, emerald-green silk playsuit. It hugged every curve, the deep v-neck toeing the line between elegant and dangerous. Instead, Blair drove us two hours upstate to a gorge. To go bungee jumping. Cocktails and cliffs. Vastly different dress codes. Blair spent a solid minute looking me up and down. “Well. Thank God you wore shorts.” I knew what she meant—you can’t exactly strap into a harness in a miniskirt—but a few guys in the line next to us still let out low, sleazy chuckles. Instinctively, I whipped my head around to glare at whichever creep was laughing, but my eyes instantly locked onto someone else. He was taller than the rest of the guys in line. The kind of tall that commands a room without trying. He was wearing casual clothes, but as a designer, I understood the architecture of fabric; from the way his shirt draped across his shoulders and chest, I could tell he was built like a god. He had the natural, effortless proportions of a runway model, possessing more raw magnetism than any professional I’d ever dressed. It’s an occupational hazard. When I see a perfect canvas, I stare. Sensing my eyes on him, he looked right back at me. Suddenly, the tips of his ears twitched—the smallest, most imperceptible movement, like a golden retriever spotting its owner. The tiny detail delighted me. The corner of my mouth hooked up into a brazen smirk. He immediately brought a large, long-fingered hand up to cover his right ear, ducking his head slightly as a dark, dusty pink began to spread across his cheekbones. Blair aggressively elbowed my ribs, grinning like a menace. “Oh, he’s a ten. Let me wingman this for you.” Her eyes were practically stripping the poor guy naked. I quickly grabbed her arm and dragged her forward before she could embarrass me further. Unfortunately, the universe has a sick sense of humor. We had paid for a tandem jump because Blair claimed she was too scared to go alone. But the second we stepped onto the metal grating of the platform and she looked down into the gaping chasm below, she dug her heels in. She refused to jump. Almost everyone else was paired up. If I didn’t find a partner, I’d have to take off the harness and do the walk of shame back to the car. The instructor asked the crowd three times if anyone wanted to tandem jump with me. I saw a few of the sleazy guys eyeing me, thankfully held back by their glaring girlfriends. Just as I accepted that I had driven two hours upstate for nothing, the gorgeous guy stepped out of the crowd. “I’ll jump with her.” His voice was a deep, gravelly timbre that went straight to my knees. “Step closer to him!” the instructor barked. “Hold on tight!” 03 The instructor kept yelling at us, but we were standing so rigidly apart you could have driven a Honda Civic between us. Suddenly, Blair planted her hands on my lower back and shoved me forward. I collided hard against his chest. Maybe it was his solid muscle, or maybe it was my own momentum, but we actually bounced off each other for a second before his arms came up. It was a strange, electric sensation. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. Despite being with Tyler for a long time, our physical intimacy had been incredibly sparse. It stemmed from trauma. My mother had gotten pregnant with me out of wedlock before marrying my father, and she spent my entire childhood enduring the subtle, biting contempt of his family. Because of that environment, I grew up with a deep-seated, psychological aversion to letting men touch me. Tyler had tried, of course. He would put on the tacky lingerie sets he modeled online and parade around the bedroom. But all I could ever think about was how the stitching was uneven, how the structural integrity of the garment failed to support the torso, and how the fabric choice was cheap. I had worried about frustrating him. I had even quietly resolved to finally sleep with him next month for his birthday, and then… Thinking about it now, a bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. Tyler wasn’t exactly suffering in my absence. He clearly had plenty of other girls keeping his bed warm. Suddenly, two massive hands gripped my waist. He pulled me flush against his body. He’s so hot. Literally. He felt like a furnace. Before I could process it, gravity vanished. We plummeted. I always thought I wasn’t afraid of dying. I thought I was cynical enough to accept the end. But as the wind ripped the air from my lungs, every biological instinct screamed, Survive! Fueled by sheer terror, I locked my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest, clinging to him like if I pressed hard enough, I could fuse my skeleton with his and somehow be safer. A bungee jump only lasts a few seconds, but when you’re in freefall, time dilates into a terrifying eternity. Every time the cord snapped taut and we rebounded, I felt the heavy thud of his chest and heard a low, muffled groan rumble in his throat. I was mortified, but I was way too terrified to let go. Realizing he was making noise, he bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle it. Seeing his lips bruised to a dark, flush red made my face burn even hotter. When we were finally hauled back up, I had to sit on a nearby bench for ten minutes just to stop my legs from shaking. My jumping partner had vanished the second our boots touched solid ground. Damn. I should have asked for his Instagram, I thought, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I slapped both hands against my cheeks. Pull it together, Harper. What the hell is wrong with you today? A cold bottle of water suddenly appeared in my line of sight. I traced the arm holding it all the way up to his perfectly sculpted face. “Thank you,” I said softly. I took the water, noticing the cap had already been cracked open for me. I took a small sip, then pressed the condensation-covered plastic against my burning cheek. It was too hot out here. “Let me get your Venmo. I’ll pay you back for this,” I said, mustering my courage. “Everything at these tourist traps is a rip-off.” He froze, looking at me like a deer in headlights, before frantically waving his hands. “No, no, it’s not expensive! I can afford it.” His panicked desperation to assure me he wasn’t broke was equally endearing and frustrating. I blinked, then let out a soft laugh. Sometimes, men used awkwardness as a shield. He clearly knew I was trying to get his contact info and was politely shutting me down. He probably had a girlfriend and didn’t want the drama. Thinking about that, my crush on him deepened a little, even as my heart sank. There were genuinely good men in the world; my mother and I just had the rotten luck of never running into them. Blair finally came bounding over, looking entirely too pleased with herself as she unzipped her massive backpack. It was packed with craft beers and heavy snacks. No wonder she had complained about it weighing a ton when I offered to carry it earlier. “Are we having a picnic, Blair? Seriously?” I asked through gritted teeth. She ignored my murderous glare and immediately turned her aggressive friendliness onto the guy. “It’s way too heavy to hike back down with! Harper, you know how kind I am, I’m just forcing us to drink it to save your back. Come on, handsome, sit with us!” I fully expected him to make an excuse and leave. Instead, he stood there, genuinely contemplating it, before nodding seriously. “It is too heavy to carry back.” I’m usually a happy drunk. The only problem is that alcohol destroys my verbal filter. Three beers in, I completely forgot there was a stranger sitting with us. The fresh memory of Tyler’s betrayal came crashing down, and the floodgates opened. I ended up burying my face in Blair’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. “Blair, is this karma? Did I reject too many guys in college? Was I too mean? Is that why the universe cursed me with a walking red flag the second I graduated?” Blair patted my back, looking at me with a mix of pity and exasperation. “I told you to be nicer. You could have just strung a few along for the ego boost, like everyone else does! College is supposed to be fun, but you chose to be a nun. Who are you blaming now?” “Wait. You didn’t have a boyfriend in college?” A deep, quiet voice cut through my tears. I sniffled, pulling back to look at his face. Through my blurry, tear-filled vision, I gave him a deeply serious answer. “No!” 04 A sudden, striking light flared in his eyes. “You didn’t?” he murmured to himself. “Wait a minute,” Blair interjected, zeroing in on him. “Why would you assume she had a boyfriend in college?” He stared at me for a long time. His eyes were dark, unreadable, and intensely focused. I tilted my head, waiting for his answer. Finally, a slow, devastating smile broke across his face. “Just a guess.” Oh, God. My heart skipped a violent beat. It was a genuine, unguarded smile. It transformed his already perfect face, making the sharp angles softer. The slight curve of his eyes made him look boyish and incredibly warm. It felt like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Staring at beautiful men was clearly good for the soul. I felt spiritually cleansed. Halfway through the afternoon, Blair wandered off to find a bathroom. When ten minutes passed and she hadn’t returned, I got anxious and decided to go look for her. My face was still warm from the alcohol, but I wasn’t drunk anymore. I was lingering in that pleasant, hazy space between tipsy and entirely lucid. “Do you want me to come with you?” He started to stand up, concern etching his brow. I was fast. Before he could fully rise, I planted a hand firmly on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the picnic blanket. I told him to stay and guard the bags. It was weird. This was the first time we’d ever met, but there was an inexplicable familiarity to him. I didn’t even know his name yet, but my intuition screamed that he was the safest person on this mountain. I shook my head, marveling at how strange human connection was. You can see someone every day for years and feel miles apart, or you can meet a stranger and feel like you’ve known them for a lifetime. It was a shame I hadn’t met him sooner. The dirt trails leading into the woods were uneven and rocky. I slipped my expensive heels off, carrying them by the straps, and walked barefoot against the cool earth. I swayed slightly, taking deep breaths of the pine-scented air. With every exhale, it felt like the heavy knot of grief in my chest was loosening. Cell service in the mountains was practically nonexistent. I walked for ten minutes and couldn’t find the bathrooms. When I realized the path was getting narrower and the crowds had completely disappeared, a spike of anxiety hit me. I had wandered off the main trail. I spun around to head back. But as I rounded a bend, three men stepped out from the trees, blocking my path. The leader had bleached blonde hair and a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the deep cut of my silk playsuit. “You lost, sweetheart? Want us to escort you back?” He reached a hand out toward my arm. I took a sharp step back, forcing my voice to stay level. “No. Thank you.” I kept my eyes pinned to the dirt, trying to sidestep them, but they shifted, forming a wall. “Hahaha! Did you hear that, boys? She’s got manners!” “Since you already thanked us, it’d be rude not to show you a good time, right?” The greasy, predatory grins on their faces made my stomach violently turn. Bile rose in my throat. Stay calm. Stay calm. Without breaking eye contact, I slid my hand behind my back and rapidly pressed the emergency SOS button on my iPhone. Then, I held out my phone and the gold watch on my wrist. I prayed this was just a mugging. I forced a tight, placating smile. “Take this. Consider it a gift. I won’t go to the cops, just let me walk past. Please.” The two guys in the back looked at the watch, hesitating, but the blonde leader’s eyes never left my chest. He spat his cigarette onto the dirt. “I have never seen a girl built like this in my life. I wouldn’t care if I died tomorrow, I’m taking this today.” The pure malice in his voice stripped away any illusion of safety. The hesitation in the other men vanished, replaced by the same sick, hungry look in their leader’s eyes. The situation was critical. I instantly changed tactics. I dropped my hands, adopting a shy, submissive posture, and softly suggested that just the blonde guy take me into the denser trees. His ego was massive. He genuinely believed his raw magnetism had won me over. He grinned ear to ear, waving off the grumbles of his friends. I picked him for two reasons: he was the most distracted by his own lust, and he was the skinniest and shortest of the three. Against him, I actually had a fighting chance. We walked deeper into the woods. At first, he was patient. But soon, his hands started reaching for me. I pushed his chest back. “I have HIV!” I blurted out, praying it would kill the mood. Instead, the adrenaline seemed to make him crazier. He laughed, a high, unhinged sound. “HIV? Let me give you an exam, then!” He lunged forward to rip my playsuit. In a split second, I swung the heel of my shoe with everything I had, smashing it squarely into the bridge of his nose, and bolted. “Fuck! You dead bitch! I’m going to kill you!” The sound of his screaming alerted the other two. Heavy footsteps crashed through the brush behind me. I ran like I had never run in my life. Sharp rocks and dead branches slashed at my bare feet, but I didn’t feel it. My brain shut down every system except one: Run! The wind roared in my ears, but the heavy thud of their boots was gaining on me. Suddenly, through the trees, I heard voices! The main trail was right above the embankment! Just make it up the hill. Just make it up the hill and you’re safe! My hand reached out for the dirt ledge— And a heavy hand locked around my ankle. “Help—!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391768”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After relinquishing my seat as the billionaire’s wife to a penniless university student, my former mother-in-law compensated me with fifty billion euros and promptly shipped me off to Eastern Europe. During those years in Eastern Europe, I opened a small flower shop in a quaint seaside town. I found a new social circle, fell in love with a new boyfriend, and was on the verge of getting married and starting a family. Then one day, the door to my flower shop burst open. An old friend stood there, her face a mask of shock as she blurted, “You’re still alive? Why didn’t you go back to London to find Aaron Britton? Do you have any idea how frantically he’s been searching for you all these years?” I simply offered a faint smile, holding up the ring on my finger. “But I’m already married and have a child.” The words hung in the air, instantly chilling the atmosphere to an unsettling silence. At my friend’s urgent, silent prompting, I turned my head. Aaron Britton stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his noble, frosty eyes fixed on me. But my mind drifted back to our third year of marriage, when Aaron confessed he’d fallen for a university student named Alice. He asked for a divorce, offering to leave with nothing. I cried, I raged, I even begged him, casting aside all my dignity. Yet Aaron merely looked at me with cold indifference. “Mora, I’m sorry, but I don’t love you anymore.” I ran to Alice’s university like a madwoman, creating a scene that solidified her reputation as the other woman. Alice, in turn, hated me enough to run me over with her car. Lying in a pool of my own blood, my first thought was to send Alice to jail. But Aaron rushed back that very night, kneeling by my hospital bed, pleading. “Mora, please, let her go. She’s so young. I won’t divorce you; I’ll come back to the family. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” In that moment, watching him beg so humbly for another woman, I felt my heart twist into a knot of agony for the first time. But I loved him too much, loved him enough to agree to his terms. For the next three years, Aaron indeed cut all ties with Alice. Everyone said he’d turned over a new leaf. He came home punctually every day, remembered all my preferences, brewed me ginger tea during my period, and held me tight when I had nightmares. But once, while we were dining at a restaurant, he got into a furious brawl defending a harassed waitress. The moment I recognized her face, a chill colder than ice spread through me. He pulled a business card from his inner pocket and handed it to Alice, his voice low. “Go see this person. He’ll arrange a decent, easy job for you.” Alice suddenly looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears, and knocked the card to the floor. “I don’t want any of this. What I want, what I’ve always wanted, is just you. Aaron Britton, only you.” Alice’s tears streamed down her face. “For three years, I thought about you every single night, unable to sleep.” “I secretly went to our old dating spots and just sat there all day long.” “Aaron, why can’t we be together when we clearly love each other?” Her sobs were heart-wrenching. Aaron looked at her anguished face, his eyes swirling with profound pain and struggle. “How do you think I feel? But only by returning to my family could I protect you.” “Alice, please listen.” He turned to leave, but Alice suddenly lunged at him from behind, kissing him fiercely, heedless of their surroundings. Hidden behind a planter, I watched, transfixed, as Aaron’s Adam’s apple bobbed, making a final, desperate struggle. Then, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and passionately, fiercely, returned her kiss. I stood there, my blood seeming to freeze in my veins. I thought my heart had died three years ago, that it couldn’t ache anymore. But I was wrong. A dead heart could still be tormented. Now, seeing the undisguised passion and adoration in his eyes, I suddenly felt like those three years of steadfastness had been a colossal joke. 2 I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. I turned and stumbled towards the elevator. A large hand suddenly reached out from the side, clamping over my mouth. It was the drunk man Aaron had beaten. “That was your man, wasn’t it? He beat me up, so I’m going to make you pay.” “Thump!” A heavy punch landed on my abdomen, followed by a rain of fists and slaps on my body and face. My consciousness slowly blurred, and I finally collapsed onto the floor like a broken rag doll. Just as I thought I was going to die there, passersby rushed in and saved me. The doctor’s expression was grim after the examination. “Multiple contusions, possibly fractured ribs. We need a family member’s signature.” The nurse in charge dialed the top contact on my phone. It rang for a long time before being answered. The other end was quiet, then came a series of sounds that made my cheeks flush. A few seconds later, Aaron’s voice, feigning calmness, came through the phone. “Hello, Mora, I’m sorry, the company has an urgent overseas video conference. Drive home safely yourself. I’ll be back once I’m done.” He didn’t even wait for my reply before hastily hanging up. Lying in the hospital bed, I forced a smile that was uglier than any cry, my voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t have family. I’ll sign myself.” With the final stroke, my vision completely blackened, and I passed out. When I awoke again, I was in a hospital room permeated with the smell of disinfectant. A familiar, concerned voice spoke by my bedside. “Mora, you’re awake. How do you feel? Does it still hurt?” Looking at his face so close to mine, at the distinct dark red mark visible on his neck, I felt a wave of nausea. Seeing no response from me, he took my hand, his eyes sincere. “Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with the man who hit you. No one who harms my Mora gets away with it.” I looked at Aaron, this man I had loved for over a decade, who was now so unfamiliar that he chilled me to the bone. Some mistakes, once crossed, should have been corrected completely. Now I finally understood that some hearts, once they fly away, can never truly return. I slowly withdrew my hand, masking the surging pain and deadness in my eyes, and then nodded gently. Aaron immediately let out a sigh of relief. He thought I had, as always, chosen forgiveness and endurance. 3 After being discharged, I returned to the villa, opened the safe, and took out a yellowed divorce agreement. Aaron’s signature, made three years ago, was in the bottom right corner of the paper. At the time, he had said, “Sign it, Mora. Let’s part amicably.” I had torn the agreement to shreds like a madwoman, throwing it in his face, crying, “Aaron, I’d die before I’d sign this.” Now, looking at this agreement, which I had carefully pieced back together and preserved, I felt nothing but profound irony. With each stroke, I wrote my own name. Once done, I took a picture of the signed agreement and sent it to my lawyer. [Attorney Miller, please expedite my divorce proceedings. All terms as per the agreement, the sooner the better.] After sending the message, I started packing. It turned out that living in one place for so long, leaving only required one night. Aaron didn’t return until the next evening. He carried an exquisite gift bag, a gentle smile on his face. “Mora, look what I brought you. The limited edition bracelet from your favorite brand. I had someone bring it back from abroad.” He walked in and saw me sitting by the window, lost in thought. “You must have been bored from being in the hospital for a few days. There’s a business gala tonight; it’s a good chance to get some fresh air.” I didn’t take the gift, just raised my eyes to look at him. Only then did Aaron notice my suitcase by the wall. “What’s this?” “Just tidying up some old things. Planning to donate them.” I explained calmly, then stood up. The gala was held in the ballroom of a five-star hotel. When Aaron walked in with my hand in his, he attracted many glances. He introduced me to several important partners, behaving thoughtfully, chatting and laughing, giving the impression of a deeply loving couple. I smiled and nodded cooperatively, but my heart was utterly cold. Until a server carrying a tray of drinks approached. It was Alice. Suddenly, without warning, the crystal chandelier overhead detached and plummeted towards Aaron. In a flash, Alice, standing nearby, threw herself forward with all her might, pushing Aaron violently aside as if her life depended on it. “Crash!” The massive chandelier smashed down, landing squarely on Alice. She fell into a pool of blood, instantly losing consciousness. “Alice!” Aaron’s eyes widened with horror, and he lunged forward, kneeling beside Alice like a madman. He suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes roaring, “Call an ambulance, now!” He scooped up the blood-soaked Alice and rushed out, heedless of everything. In his panic and urgency, he even bumped into me, who was standing in his way. I staggered from the impact, hitting my forehead hard against a cold Roman pillar beside me. Sharp pain shot through me, and warm liquid trickled down my temple. I clung to the pillar, barely steadying myself, and when I raised a hand to touch my forehead, it came away scarlet. Aaron, meanwhile, cradling Alice, had vanished from the ballroom like a gust of wind, never once looking back at me. The surroundings were chaos – gasps, murmurs… Someone came over to ask if I was alright, but I felt as if I couldn’t hear anything. Clutching my bleeding forehead, I stumbled out of the chaotic ballroom. I didn’t go to the hospital, but found a nearby clinic for simple disinfection and a bandage. Back home, the villa was empty and still cold. I washed the blood from my face and sat on the sofa, opening my phone. The top trending video in the city was of Aaron. The video was filmed at the renowned St. Michael’s Cathedral on the city outskirts, known for its 999 steep stone steps. It was said that a truly devout person, climbing the steps on their knees, would find their prayers for safety answered most effectively. In the video, Aaron had shed his blood-stained designer suit, wearing only a thin shirt. His expression was solemn, his gaze resolute, as he arduously climbed towards the cathedral at the summit, one step, one kneel, one bow at a time. A reporter nearby held a microphone, asking, “Mr. Britton, who are you praying for? Is it for your family?” Aaron looked into the camera, his eyes tender and firm. “For the person I love most, praying for her safety.” The person I love most… I slammed my phone shut, but the suffocating pain in my chest refused to subside. 4 In the following days, Aaron never returned. Until one day, as I stepped out to throw away the trash, two police officers approached me. “Are you Ms. Mora Thorne? We’ve received a report from Ms. Alice Davies, accusing you of hiring someone to assault her, specifically instructing them to throw acid on her. We need you to come with us to assist with the investigation.” My pupils constricted. I couldn’t believe it. “I hired someone to throw acid on her?” Just then, Aaron walked over. Hearing the police’s words, his face instantly changed. “There must be a mistake, right? My wife couldn’t possibly do something like that.” The police officer’s expression was serious. “We have preliminary evidence: the suspect’s confession and relevant transfer records.” He handed a document to Aaron. Aaron took it, flipping through it quickly. The more he read, the darker his face grew, the colder his eyes became. Finally, he slammed the document onto me, the papers scattering across the floor. “Mora Thorne, tell me, what is this?” I looked down at the papers on the floor, which contained blurry screenshots of bank transfers and a handwritten confession. It stated that a woman named Thorne had instructed him to throw acid on Alice. Before I could explain, Aaron’s voice was icy and resolute. “Take her. Handle it as you see fit.” Then, he didn’t spare me another glance, turning and quickly walking away. He was rushing to see Alice. I spent an entire night in the cold detention center. The next morning, the police informed me that Alice had agreed to a settlement. I signed the papers and walked out of the detention center. Just as I was about to hail a taxi home, someone from behind covered my mouth and nose with a towel. When I regained consciousness, I felt myself stuffed inside a sack, my mouth gagged with a cloth, my hands and feet tightly bound. Faint voices reached my ears; it was Aaron and Alice. “Aaron, do we really have to do this to her? Isn’t it too much? She’s still your wife, after all.” Aaron’s voice was icy. “Too much? Did she think it was ‘too much’ when she hired someone to throw acid on you?” “You’ve undergone three skin graft surgeries, enduring unimaginable pain! I’ll use my own methods to give her a lesson she’ll never forget.” Lying in the sack, my blood seemed to freeze instantly. It was Aaron. He was the one who had me kidnapped, all to avenge Alice. The man I loved most, my husband of seven years, was doing this to me for another woman. Then, I felt the mouth of the sack tighten. Something heavy was then forced inside, pressing down on me. It was rocks. “Mmm… mmm…” I struggled wildly, trying to scream, but only muffled whimpers escaped. The sack was roughly lifted, and with a splash, I was thrown into the icy cold river. The river water instantly surged in from all directions, submerging my mouth and nose, filling my lungs. Suffocation, cold, despair. I thrashed desperately in the sack, but my hands and feet were bound, and the rocks dragged me down to the bottom. Just when I thought I was certainly going to die, the sack was suddenly pulled out of the water. I choked, greedily gasping for the freezing air. But a few seconds later, I was forced back under. This was repeated over and over. Pulled up, pushed down; pulled up, pushed down… a cruel game of cat and mouse. In the fear of imminent death and the extreme cold and pain, countless images flooded my mind uncontrollably. Sixteen years old, a blushing boy handing me a love letter under a cherry tree, clumsy handwriting, burning sincerity; Eighteen years old, at the departure gate of an international airport, he hugged me tightly: “Mora, wait for me to come back. I’ll definitely marry you.” Twenty-two years old, his first attempt at cooking for me; Twenty-five years old, at our wedding, the tears glinting in his eyes as he lifted my veil… Those beautiful, sincere affections and promises I thought would last a lifetime, it turned out they were all lies. Or perhaps they were once true, but later given to someone else. And I, like a fool, clung to the phantom of the past, unwilling to let go. The next time I was pulled out of the water, I finally couldn’t hold on any longer, and I coughed up a large mouthful of blood mixed with river water. Before my consciousness completely faded, I thought I heard Aaron’s cold voice from the bank. “That’s enough! Throw her ashore and let her fend for herself.” I don’t know how long I lay on the riverbank until a faint glimmer of dawn light stung my eyes. I struggled, using my last ounce of strength to open my phone. The screen lit up, and two unread messages popped up. The first was from Aaron: [Mora, since I chose to return to the family, I won’t do anything to betray you again. Please stop hurting Alice. She almost had her face ruined this time, and her mental state is very fragile. I’ll stay with her for a few days and then come back to you.] The second was from my lawyer: [Ms. Thorne, all divorce procedures have been completed. Your divorce certificate has been sent to your home by express delivery. I wish you all the best for your future.] I looked at these two messages and suddenly laughed. I laughed so hard I coughed up more blood, laughed until tears streamed down my face. I blacklisted Aaron’s number without hesitation, then, supporting my bruised and battered body, I shakily stood up. Every step felt like treading on knife blades, and the fractured part of my leg sent excruciating pain shooting through me. But I just bit my lip, moving forward with difficulty, one step at a time. Returning to that cold, empty villa, on the living room coffee table, there was indeed an express delivery envelope. I tore it open, and inside were two dark red divorce certificates. I picked up the one belonging to me and opened it. In the photo, I was wearing the white shirt from our wedding, smiling gently and serenely. I did not pick up Aaron’s. I gently placed the blank divorce certificate in the most conspicuous spot on the coffee table. Then, I turned and picked up the suitcase I had already packed. I took one last look at this place I had lived in for seven years, loved for seven years, and dragged myself through for seven years. No lingering attachment, no looking back. I opened the door and walked out.

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1 My brother was drugged, and I was forced to unbutton my own shirt. After I got pregnant, our parents told us we weren’t biological siblings and told him to marry me. My brother nodded, then went out street racing that same day and got into a terrible car accident. I didn’t care that both his legs were paralyzed; I was absolutely determined to be his bride. I thought he would be moved by my devotion, and that we would grow old together. On our wedding night, the villa caught fire. When I choked awake from the smoke, my very first thought was to drag him out of the inferno. Instead, he smashed a heavy vase over my head. Right before I lost consciousness, I heard his freezing, emotionless voice. “You and our parents destroyed my true love. I’ve already legally transferred all my assets to Chloe as compensation.” “Since you people ruined my life, you can all burn in hell with me.” … I was jolted awake by my brother, Arthur Sterling’s, agonizing, heavy panting. I opened my eyes to see my familiar old bedroom. There were no red wedding decorations, and there was no suffocating, rolling black smoke. I had been reborn. The sheer shock and overwhelming joy made me dizzy. “Mia, get me a glass of water.” Arthur’s low, raspy voice drifted through the wall from the next room, sending a violent shiver down my spine. I glanced at the watch on my wrist, a cold sweat instantly breaking out across my back. I had been reborn on the exact night my brother was drugged. The sticky, horrifying sensation of blood blinding my eyes from my past life, and the agonizing pain of burning alive, seemed to physically hit me all over again. My immediate instinct was to run. To get as far away from Arthur as possible. Before I could even put my shoes on, he was already standing in my doorway. “Mia, I just called Chloe Sinclair. I need you to drive over and pick her up right now.” Even though the drugs were heavily amplifying his lust, I still caught the distinct, unmistakable look of guarded disgust in his eyes when he looked at me. A terrifying, bold thought suddenly bloomed in my mind. My brother had also been reborn. I nodded frantically, grabbed my car keys, and squeezed past him, practically sprinting out the door. Even as I stepped out the front door of the villa, I could feel the intense discomfort of Arthur’s gaze burning into my back. The address Arthur gave me was an apartment near his company headquarters. So, Arthur and Chloe had moved in together this early on. When he said I ruined his true love, he actually meant it. The second Chloe saw my car, she yanked the passenger door open and slid in. “How is your brother doing right now?!” Chloe looked incredibly anxious, but I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination or if there was a hidden, eager thrill of getting exactly what she wanted dancing in her eyes. “You’ll see when we get there.” I had zero desire to make small talk with Chloe. Not because I was jealous, but because neither my mother nor I had ever liked her. Chloe was an impoverished student whose education was sponsored by my family. Initially, my parents adored Chloe because she was incredibly hardworking, driven, and had phenomenal grades. She was the top scorer in her entire city’s college entrance exams. My parents personally drove her to the capital to start university. My mother was especially happy. Since Chloe was a year ahead of me and had exceptional grades, she could tutor me during my crucial senior year of high school. She was incredibly responsible with me. Every week after our tutoring session, she would give my father a highly detailed progress report. Even after I explicitly told her that my mother was the one managing my academics, she completely ignored me and kept reporting directly to my father. I always felt her eyes radiated a calculating, manipulative shrewdness, but at the time, I just assumed I was being overly sensitive. Until one night, she called my dad, sobbing hysterically that a drunk man was harassing her. When my dad rushed to the scene, she threw herself directly into his arms. My dad was so terrified he threw his hands up in the air, his face turning a sickly shade of green. My mother, who had just parked the car and arrived at the exact same moment, saw the entire thing. Chloe sobbed pathetically, claiming she viewed my dad as a father figure and was just so terrified that she reacted instinctively. My parents verbally comforted her, but after that incident, she was never allowed inside our house again, and my dad never personally handled any of her issues. After graduating college, she wanted to study abroad. She showed up at our house with a basket of fruit, looking incredibly pitiful, and begged my parents for a massive loan. My mother wasn’t stingy. She had her secretary wire Chloe fifty thousand dollars. Right before Chloe left, she came to say goodbye and ran straight into my brother, who had just returned from completing his master’s degree overseas. The very next day, Chloe returned the fifty thousand dollars to my mother. She claimed she had an epiphany: a person should be grounded and practical. She decided to work first and earn her own money to fund her studies abroad. My brother, who was just leaving the house at the time, looked at the plainly dressed but incredibly resolute Chloe. His eyes were entirely filled with deep admiration. 2 A month later, Chloe officially joined our family’s corporation and became my brother’s personal secretary. I warned my brother that Chloe had ulterior motives and was intentionally targeting him. “Mia, not everyone’s brain is completely consumed by childish romance like yours.” Yet, within a year, he moved Chloe directly into his private apartment. I drove like a maniac the entire way. Chloe gripped the “oh shit” handle with a death grip. “Mia, I know you’re upset, but please consider our physical safety!” When Chloe rushed into the villa, I didn’t follow her. Instead, I just sat in the car, zoning out completely. I knew exactly what was about to happen between my brother and Chloe better than anyone. I wasn’t jealous. My horrific, agonizing death in my past life—and the fact that my parents were dragged down to a miserable end because of me—made me realize with absolute clarity that my love for my brother was nothing but lethal poison to him. And the comment Chloe made in the car just now completely validated that brutal truth. “Mia, he’s your brother. Your twisted, disgusting obsession with him is what drove him to flee the country to study in the first place. Now that he has me, you need to give up.” So Arthur had known for a very long time that I was in love with him. He went abroad to study entirely to escape me. If I had known that sooner, in my past life, when I handed him that glass of water and saw him suffering so agonizingly, I never would have unbuttoned my own shirt. Before getting out of the car, Chloe threw one last sentence at me. “You’re a grown woman now. It’s time you found someone appropriate to date and marry.” She was probably terrified I would keep obsessing over Arthur. Don’t worry. I have absolutely zero lingering fantasies about Arthur Sterling. I sat in the car for the entire night. It wasn’t until dawn broke that I finally opened the front door and went upstairs. Arthur, wearing a bathrobe, was walking out of his bedroom. “Where the hell were you last night?” His neck was covered in undeniable, dark hickeys, and his voice was thick, raspy, and languid. “I went to hang out with Lily.” Lily was my best friend; Arthur had met her before. The fact that he still possessed the mental bandwidth to casually ask about my whereabouts made me feel a surge of relief. Maybe he had finally let go of his resentment, and we could cleanly revert back to a normal sibling dynamic. “I know you look down on Chloe’s background and think she’s poor, but let me make this incredibly clear: she is the woman I am absolutely going to marry. Show her some respect from now on.” When did I ever look down on her background? I couldn’t stop a genuinely confused frown from crossing my face. “Wipe that arrogant, superior look off your face. She literally sacrificed herself to clean up the catastrophic mess you caused.” I was even more confused now. “What are you talking about?” Arthur’s patience evaporated. “Are you honestly going to stand there and deny you spiked my drink last night?! Do you have any idea how pure and innocent Chloe is?! She wanted to wait until our wedding night to give herself to me, and you ruined everything!” “I didn’t do it!” I yelled back defensively. Yes, I had been in love with Arthur for years, but I would never, ever resort to such cheap, disgusting, underhanded tactics. “Chloe and I went out for dinner, came straight home, and the only thing I drank was the glass of milk you left on my nightstand! If it wasn’t you, who the hell was it?!” In my past life, I always wondered why my brother never investigated who drugged him. I always assumed he fell for a trap at some business dinner and was too ashamed to bring it up. It turned out he believed I was the one who drugged him. No wonder he hated me so intensely. Hated me so much that he dragged the very parents who gave us their blessing down to hell with him. Hated me so much that he refused to even let the six-month-old child growing inside me take a single breath in this world. My heart tasted like bitter ash, and my eyes burned. “Believe whatever you want, but I am telling you, it absolutely was not me.” Right at that moment, Arthur’s bedroom door cracked open. Chloe, wearing one of Arthur’s oversized dress shirts, peeked out like a terrified, fragile little rabbit. “Arthur, is Mia mad at me?” Arthur shot me a look loaded with intense warning. “Mia would never be mad at you. She’s going to offer us her full blessing.” “You’re absolutely right, brother. Sister-in-law.” I forced a bright smile onto my face. “You saved him. I’ll advocate for you both and convince Mom and Dad to agree to the wedding.” A flash of barely concealed triumph crossed Chloe’s face, while Arthur looked at me with intense, analytical suspicion. What was there to be suspicious about? He was literally willing to die for her. Even if I knew she was a manipulative snake, I absolutely refused to let my parents risk even a single hair on their heads. “Please don’t put Uncle and Auntie in a difficult position. I know I’m not worthy of Arthur. I just want to stay by his side.” Ah, so Arthur has a fetish for manipulative ‘green tea’ victims. No wonder he never loved me. 3 Arthur wrapped his arms around her, looking incredibly heartbroken for her. When he wasn’t looking, Chloe shot me a look of absolute, smug victory. “Mia, my clothes got… torn by your brother. Could I borrow an outfit from you?” Chloe asked with manufactured shyness. “Didn’t I buy you a dress last month? I haven’t seen you wear it once. Since you clearly don’t like it, just give it to Chloe.” That was the dress he bought me for my birthday. Did I not like it? He knew perfectly well I treasured it too much to actually wear it. He was actually taking back the gift he gave me. My heart gave an involuntary, painful squeeze, but it settled almost immediately. Chloe put on my dress and did a beautiful, dramatic twirl. Completely ignoring my presence, she threw her arms around Arthur, acting incredibly coquettish as she asked him if she looked pretty. But none of this triggered me anymore. This time around, my only goal was for my parents and me to stay alive and well. My parents were on a two-week vacation. The very first day they returned, Arthur aggressively and impatiently announced his intention to marry Chloe. When I walked through the front door, the floor was covered in the shattered remains of my father’s teacup. My mother’s face was dark as she rubbed my father’s back to calm him down. Arthur sat directly across from them, his face completely devoid of emotion. “Mom! Dad!” I ran over and threw myself into their arms, fighting with everything I had to hold back my tears. Their expressions instantly softened into absolute warmth and tenderness. “Why are you still acting like such a little kid? You’re all grown up and still throwing yourself at us like this.” My dad affectionately ruffled my hair, and my mom pulled me down onto the sofa next to her. “Your brother wants to marry Secretary Sinclair. What do you think, Mia?” My dad had always favored me, and Arthur immediately shot me a look that was utterly devoid of warmth. “I think it’s wonderful. Chloe and Arthur are a perfect match.” My mom’s brow furrowed deeply. “Do you honestly believe that?” “Mom, Arthur is 26 years old. He has the right to choose his own happiness. All we need to do is support him.” What was the point of not supporting him? We couldn’t stop him anyway. Seeing that my parents still refused to relent… “It doesn’t matter if you like Chloe or not. Arthur likes her. After he gets married, we can just live separately. I’m going to stay with you and Dad forever.” My words visibly softened their expressions. I quickly shot Arthur a pointed look. This was our unspoken, childhood routine. Whenever Arthur wanted to do something my parents disapproved of, it was my job to butter them up and put them in a good mood before he asked. “Mom, Dad, after Chloe and I get married, we will be incredibly filial to you. I am begging you, please agree to this marriage.” Seeing Arthur drop solemnly to his knees, I piled on the persuasion as hard as I could. Realizing there was no room for negotiation, my parents finally nodded and agreed. Arthur got exactly what he wanted—he was going to marry Chloe. The tragedy of my past life definitely wouldn’t repeat itself this time. I slowly uncurled my tightly clenched fists. After my parents went to their room to rest, I went back to my own bedroom. I had just opened my diary, preparing to write, when the door suddenly swung open from the outside. I looked up. It was Arthur. He glanced at my notebook, his face instantly turning a dark, furious shade of green. I had barely stood up when his hand shot out and clamped violently around my neck. “Mia, are you writing down all your filthy, disgusting fantasies about me again?!” His hand was massive, and as his grip tightened, I felt like I was suffocating. “What the hell are you talking about?!” I struggled to force out a few syllables. Arthur snatched my diary off the desk. “When you were a teenager, didn’t you use a diary exactly like this to document your sick, incestuous obsession with me?!” So he really had read my diary. What right did he have to violate my privacy like that?! A mixture of absolute fury and profound injustice exploded in my chest. I used all my strength to violently pry his fingers off my throat. I snatched the diary back and slammed it hard against his chest. “What exactly is your problem?! I gave you and her my full blessing, isn’t that enough?!” “Yes, I used to have feelings for you, and that was my mistake! But I absolutely do not like you anymore! What more do you fucking want from me?!” I rarely ever lost my temper with him. He looked completely stunned. “You love reading my diary so much? Then look at it! I did write about a man in here, but it absolutely isn’t you!” With that, I shoved past him and sprinted out of the house. Sitting in the coffee shop with Lily, she was vibrating with absolute excitement. “Did you really agree to date my brother?! Are you actually going to be my sister-in-law?!” In her overwhelming joy, her voice spiked, drawing stares from the other tables. I quickly reached over and clamped my hand over her mouth. “I… randomly ran into him a couple of days ago, and we just really hit it off.” My face felt incredibly hot. Lily excitedly rubbed her hands together. 4 “Confess right now! My brother asked you out six months ago and you rejected him! How did you guys hook up again?!” Lily’s older brother, Julian Thorne, had indeed confessed his feelings for me six months ago. At the time, my entire universe revolved around Arthur, so I rejected him. After being reborn and desperately trying to fix my mistakes, Chloe and Arthur started aggressively flaunting their relationship in my house every single day. Chloe took every available opportunity to aggressively mark her territory and assert her dominance over him. Even though I backed down completely and repeatedly swore I had absolutely zero interest in Arthur, it didn’t matter. I had no choice. I had to avoid them. Feeling incredibly depressed, I went to a bar to drink. After downing a few too many and feeling incredibly dizzy, a random guy cornered me outside the restrooms and tried to get handsy. I was terrified, tears springing to my eyes, when Julian suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He threw a single, brutal punch that dropped the guy to the floor, completely unconscious. When Julian pulled a literal handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe my tears, I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into laughter. “Julian Thorne, are you an ancient relic? Who even carries a handkerchief anymore?” He helplessly shook the expensive piece of plaid fabric. “Do you have any idea how much this tiny square of fabric costs?” “I don’t care how much it costs, it’s definitely not as convenient as a tissue.” He nodded in reluctant agreement and tossed the outrageously expensive handkerchief straight into the trash can. “Whatever Mia says, goes.” Lily always complained that her brother wasn’t as aloof and aristocratic as my brother. She said he acted like a cynical, irresponsible playboy. But that “irresponsible playboy” had become a terrifying, ruthless titan in the city’s business world. Since taking over the Thorne family corporation three years ago, he had nearly doubled its market value. A tiny handkerchief instantly bridged the gap between us. Whenever I was in a bad mood, I would text him, and he always managed to say something incredibly bizarre and weird that hit my exact sense of humor perfectly. Since being reborn, the only times I actually felt completely relaxed were when I was texting Julian. “I thought elite CEOs were supposed to be swamped with work. How do you have the time to text me all day long?” Julian replied almost instantly. “Because it’s you on the other end, and I absolutely refuse to make you wait a single second. I’ve basically had my phone glued to my hand 24/7 for the past few weeks.” Is this what it feels like to be loved? Arthur never, ever made me feel this way. This time, I wanted to experience what it actually felt like to be loved. I agreed to give it a shot with Julian. I’ve kept a diary since I was a little girl. Lately, the man filling its pages was him. I had no idea if Arthur had actually read it, but the next time I went home, the diary was sitting perfectly aligned on my desk. Arthur hadn’t been home for days, so I took the opportunity to finally tell my parents about me and the Thorne family heir. I held their hands and made them promise that they would always live with me. My parents smiled and nodded, treating me like a child. I didn’t care; they nodded, which meant they were officially bound to stay by my side. That evening, Arthur brought Chloe home for dinner. Dressed head-to-toe in luxury brands, she actually managed to project a decent aura of high society elegance. At the dinner table, my parents weren’t exactly thrilled, but thankfully, they didn’t make a scene. After dinner, we all sat together in the living room. “Arthur, Chloe. We absolutely do not oppose your marriage, but there are a few fundamental things we need to establish upfront.” Arthur had been occasionally glancing at me all evening, his eyes carrying an unreadable, deeply uncomfortable weight. Chloe sat perfectly straight, her eyes practically shining as she stared at my father. “Arthur is getting married, and Mia has a serious boyfriend now too. To avoid any future conflicts, I am telling you both right now: regardless of who is getting married or moving out, our family’s assets will be split exactly 50/50 between the two of you.” Before Arthur could even open his mouth, Chloe blurted out: “That’s completely unreasonable! Mia is a daughter; she’s going to marry into another family! Giving her half is literally just handing your wealth over to outsiders!” My mother hadn’t looked Chloe in the eye the entire night. “You haven’t even married into this family yet, and you’re already trying to dictate our finances? Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?” I looked at Arthur. He looked back at me, the corners of his mouth suddenly curling up into a smirk. “Mia, is your new boyfriend only with you because he’s after our family’s money?” He pulled Chloe into his side. “I agree. Splitting it 50/50 is completely unreasonable.” Chloe leaned heavily into Arthur’s chest. “Mia is just an adopted daughter. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind supporting her financially for the rest of her life. She can just find a random guy to marry and they can both keep living here.” My parents’ faces turned terrifyingly dark. Looking closely, I could see my father’s shoulders trembling slightly. “Who the hell told you Mia was adopted?! You are the one who was adopted!”

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I was reborn on the exact day I originally confessed my feelings to my childhood crush. Surrounded by the cheering crowd, he looked at my tear-stained face and asked coldly, “Mia Harrison, do you really find this pathetic attention-seeking fun?” Then, he turned to the girl standing next to him—his perfect ‘unattainable ideal’—and his voice softened entirely: “Wait for me a minute. I’ll come find you as soon as I deal with this.” He turned back to me, lecturing me impatiently: “Why are you always crying?” “If you have free time, you should try reading a book. Stop obsessing over this romantic nonsense all day…” I was so incredibly annoyed. I shoved him hard, stumbling past him, and threw myself directly onto the notorious school delinquent who was standing behind him, watching the drama. “Hubby…” I buried my face in his chest, sobbing hysterically. Eighteen-year-old Liam Vance was still alive. Everything could still be fixed. 01 Before Liam died, he made me pinky-promise that I would live to be a hundred years old before I came to find him. I promised him, and then I turned around and lied. On the third day after his death, I followed him. Right before I closed my eyes, I even found a convenient excuse for myself. When I saw him, I’d tell him I had a nightmare that he was flirting with other ghost girls in the afterlife, so I had to come check on him. The truth was, I hadn’t slept at all. Without him, I literally couldn’t sleep. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in my 18-year-old body. I was standing in the middle of a crowd, holding a bouquet of flowers, surrounded by relentless chanting and cheering. “Confess! Confess!” The crowd was massive, but my eyes instantly locked onto that blinding head of bleached blonde hair. He was standing in a corner no one was paying attention to. His gaze swept over me—seemingly casual, but incredibly intense. Looking at him, I instantly lost control of my tears. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Arthur Sterling’s voice cut through the noise. “Mia Harrison, do you really find this pathetic attention-seeking fun?” In my daze, I finally noticed the person standing right in front of me. His brow was slightly furrowed, his expression freezing cold. The lively atmosphere instantly died. The awkward silence stretched until Chloe Sinclair finally broke it. “Arthur, we need to finalize the draft for the award acceptance speech.” Arthur turned to look at her. “Wait for me a minute. I’ll come find you as soon as I deal with this.” His expression held a rare, genuine tenderness. Chloe was a top-tier academic prodigy, just like Arthur. People constantly joked that the valedictorian and the salutatorian were a match made in heaven. Chloe would just scoff and reply dismissively: “I’m not one of those pathetic little girls who only has romance and boys in her head.” When she said that, Arthur looked at her with a rare, profound admiration. He had told me the exact same thing once—that he despised girls who only cared about romance. But back then, my brain was exclusively occupied by him. I was actually delusional enough to think that if I confessed to him on my birthday, he wouldn’t embarrass me in public. It was only much later that I realized how deeply he despised feeling emotionally manipulated. Just like he did right now. He snatched the flowers from my arms, looking incredibly impatient. “If you have free time, you should try reading a book. Stop obsessing over this romantic nonsense all day.” 02 I froze. Whispers erupted from the crowd. “Look, Mia is crying.” “She’s been trailing after Arthur for years. Looks like the school beauty just became the school joke.” “Ugh, I feel second-hand embarrassment just watching this.” In my past life, I definitely cried hysterically because of the sheer humiliation. But right now, the only thing I could see was that blonde guy standing in the corner. I stared directly at him, my mouth opening and closing. I was trembling so hard I couldn’t make a sound. The tears just kept streaming down my face. Seeing my reaction, Arthur frowned deeply and let out a heavy sigh. “Mia, why are you always crying?” I was so incredibly annoyed. He wouldn’t stop talking, and he was physically blocking my view. I forcefully shoved Arthur out of the way, sprinting forward and throwing myself onto the boy I had miraculously gotten back. “Hubby…” “Hubby, you’re still alive… thank God, waaaahhh…” His chest was burning hot, radiating that familiar, sunny scent. I held onto him, sobbing so hard I was hiccuping. The body in my arms went completely rigid. “Uh… sis… I think you’ve got the wrong guy?” His face was flushed bright red all the way to the tips of his ears. 03 “Mia Harrison, who the hell are you calling ‘hubby’?!” Arthur’s voice rang out from behind me, laced with unmistakable anger. “How many times are you going to pull this exact same stunt?” Oh, right. In my past life, to make Arthur jealous, I frequently pretended to be overly intimate with other guys. He would get slightly annoyed and then offer some half-hearted coaxing. Except, this time, the guy I chose was the delinquent thug he despised more than anyone else in the school. I ignored Arthur, clinging to Liam and crying even harder. “Waaaah, hubby, you really are still alive…” I couldn’t believe it. My hands instinctively dove under his shirt, desperate to feel his chest and confirm the fatal stab wound from my past life wasn’t there. Liam was absolutely terrified by my actions. “Holy shit! What are you doing?!” I sobbed through my hiccups, “Take your shirt off. Let me see.” His face instantly turned a dark, explosive red. “I am a respectable man!” I cried even harder. “Waaaah, hubby, I need to see it, please, just let me see…” His hands hovered in the air, completely unsure of where to put them. Finally, he lowered his voice in sheer desperation. “Hiss… wait… can we wait until there’s no one around, please?” Watching this spectacle, Arthur’s eyes filled with absolute disgust. “Mia, aren’t you humiliated putting on this kind of show in public?” “I am not going to coddle you this time.” He turned on his heel and stormed off. Without the main attraction, the crowd quickly dispersed, grumbling in disappointment. 04 “Princess, the show’s over. Aren’t you going to let go?” The voice above my head carried a heavy dose of sarcasm. I just shook my head violently, burying my face in his neck, sobbing and hiccuping. “Never. I am never letting go for the rest of my life…” Eighteen-year-old Mia Harrison didn’t have shattered legs. She wasn’t consumed by clinical depression. Eighteen-year-old Liam Vance hadn’t jumped in front of a knife for her yet. Everything could still be fixed. Liam stared at me in disbelief and threatened, “I’m going to walk out of here right now, you know that?” “Mm…” He scooped me up into his arms and carried me out of the classroom. The moment we stepped into the hallway, the booming voice of the Dean of Discipline echoed toward us. “Hey! Liam Vance! Instead of being at practice, you’re out here holding a female student?! Are you sexually harassing her?!” I continued to cling to him like a koala, completely unbothered. Seeing my absolute refusal to move, Liam’s face flushed red as he frantically explained: “Reporting to the Dean! The female student broke her leg! I’m carrying her to the nurse’s office!” The Dean’s tone softened considerably. “You little punk. Didn’t know you had a caring side.” Suddenly, the memory hit me. In my past life, Liam had done exactly this. Carrying me all over the world to see specialists for my legs, staying by my side through every grueling physical therapy session. Once the Dean was out of earshot, Liam looked down at me, looking like he was about to lose his mind. “Seriously, Princess, what exactly is your endgame here?” I kept my arms locked tightly around his neck. “Hubby…” He shuddered, his scalp literally tingling. He gritted his teeth. “Do not call me ‘hubby’!! Who the hell is your hubby?!” “You are…” I pouted, looking incredibly wronged. “You’re my favorite, sweetest hubby…” His brain looked like it was about to short-circuit. He reminded me through gritted teeth: “Princess, do you remember who literally threw my love letter in the trash yesterday?” I felt a sudden, massive wave of awkwardness. My timing couldn’t have been worse. Liam had confessed his feelings to me yesterday. And I had viciously stomped his letter into the dirt. “I absolutely despise meathead sports jocks like you. All brawn and zero brains.” Ironically, I was an arts student—all flexibility and zero brains. Honestly, I didn’t actually hate Liam. I only hated him because Arthur hated him. Arthur despised anyone he considered stupid, especially someone like Liam, who had terrible grades and threw his weight around the school. I blinked innocently, offering my most sincere, earnest explanation: “Um, yesterday was actually… a test. I was testing you.” I quickly added a solemn vow: “Hubby, I promise, from now on, I will only ever like you.” The corner of Liam’s mouth twitched violently. “Hiss… can you please stop calling me ‘hubby’?” I shook my head firmly. “No.” He gritted his teeth, finally accepting his fate. “Ugh, whatever… call me whatever the fuck you want…” He looked down at me, still clinging to him like a monkey, and sighed heavily. “But seriously, Mia… “You are a human being, not a primate. Can you please get off me now?” “But I want to hold you a little longer, hubby~” His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. The tips of his ears were burning bright red. Eighteen-year-old Liam was trying to act tough, but he was actually just a soft, easily flustered puppy. 05 Liam ended up carrying me all the way to his Second Great-Uncle’s house. The old man sat in an alleyway, doing fortune-telling and mystical readings, acting cryptic and bizarre every single day. “Uncle, I think she’s possessed.” The old man stroked his beard, taking one look at my tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. “Hmm. Eyes blood-red. She’s definitely got something dark attached to her.” He pulled out a piece of yellow paper and hastily scribbled a talisman on it. “Stick this talisman on her. It wards off evil spirits and demonic attachments.” Liam set me down outside the door and ordered me: “Wait here for a second. Do not follow me. I’ll be right back.” I completely ignored him and stealthily crept right up to the doorframe. I heard him asking in a hushed, secretive whisper: “Uncle… what I actually want to know is… do you have a talisman that will make her stay ‘possessed’ like this forever?” I secretly rejoiced in my heart: You little idiot. You’ve been madly, hopelessly, dangerously in love with me this whole time. Liam, in this life, it’s my turn to run to you. 06 I actually lived with the Sterling family. Our families had been close for generations, and Arthur and I had an arranged marriage setup since we were babies. When I was ten, my parents died in a sudden accident. Arthur had gripped my hand tightly. “Mia, you still have me. I will always stay by your side.” I moved into the Sterling estate, and his parents treated me incredibly well. Since I started dancing at a young age, his mother hired the absolute best instructors for me. My closet was overflowing with beautiful clothes she bought for me. But no matter how good they were to me, I wasn’t their actual child. They were raising me to be their future daughter-in-law. It wasn’t until my legs were shattered and I couldn’t walk normally that they decided a “crippled” daughter-in-law was too humiliating for their family image. They told me: “Mia, we’ve always loved you like our own daughter, and Arthur sees you as his own little sister. Don’t worry, we will definitely find you a good husband.” At the dinner table, Arthur’s parents put food in my bowl and asked about my studies. Remembering what they said in my past life, I found the whole scene incredibly ironic. I set down my chopsticks. “Uncle, Auntie, I want to move into the school dormitories. It’ll help me focus better on my studies, and you both know my academic grades aren’t very good.” They looked visibly surprised. “The dorm environment is so rough, how could you possibly live there?” “Mia, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Arthur’s grades are excellent; just have him tutor you.” I shook my head calmly. “No, he’s been really busy preparing for academic competitions lately. I shouldn’t bother him.” Arthur’s mother seemed to pick up on something. “Did you two have a fight?” Arthur remained silent. I just smiled. “Not at all. He treats me very well, and I’ve always seen Arthur as my own older brother.” “I’m sure that in the future, he’ll find a daughter-in-law for you who is just as brilliant and exceptional as he is.” Arthur’s gaze snapped to me, pausing for a long moment.

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Right before I died, my parents sat down and did the math with me. They told me that in this life, they had never mistreated me. Whatever other kids had, I had too. “But, we just don’t have that kind of money anymore,” my mother said. “Your mom and I are just normal people. The doctor said your leukemia is incurable. Even if we go bankrupt trying to save you…” my dad trailed off. “Not to mention we still have to put your brother through college and help him with a down payment for a house. If he doesn’t have a house, who would want to marry him?” “Lily, let’s stop the treatments. Okay?” My mother’s voice trembled as she said it. She framed it as a question, but she had already made the decision. My father stood beside her, offering his own twisted comfort: “You want Ethan to have a good life too, right?” After they decided to give up on my treatment, they had the doctors pull my IVs and take me off life support. My father stood to the side, crying. My mother had tears in her eyes, but she stood rigidly, saying nothing. They had my Uncle David lift me up and place me in a wheelchair. She wouldn’t even touch me. As they rolled me to the hospital entrance, she looked at my uncle and said, “I’m leaving her in your hands.” Uncle David nodded, remaining silent. I looked back at her through blurry, tear-filled eyes. “Mom, aren’t we going home?” I didn’t realize it then, but the moment they decided to give up on me, I no longer had a home. They didn’t take me home. On the drive with my uncle, he told me, “Your brother is about to take his final exams and apply for colleges. Being at home would distract him.” “You wouldn’t want your parents and your brother to have to watch you looking like death every single day, right?” Tears streamed down my face, but I nodded. “Then where am I going?” Where was I supposed to go? Uncle David didn’t answer. He just drove in silence for a very long time. Three hours later, he brought me to a tiny, rundown cabin. It was out in the countryside, surrounded by nothing but empty fields. The cabin stood there, completely isolated from the rest of the world. He locked me inside and came by once a day to drop off food. Laying there, staring at the walls of that tiny, ten-by-ten room, it suddenly hit me: I had already been locked inside my tomb. What was Ethan doing? Was he doing his homework? Did Mom make him her special chicken noodle soup? If I were home, Ethan would always sneak two chicken wings into my bowl, and then eat the drumsticks himself. But honestly, just having the wings was enough to make me happy. Thinking about that, I closed my eyes. I could almost see Ethan smiling at me. I could see him pulling me onto the couch to watch cartoons. I could hear him say, “Don’t be scared. Your big brother is right here.” And then, I never woke up again. When I regained consciousness, I was no longer in that terrifying, suffocating little cabin. I was home. Afternoon sunlight spilled across the living room. My mother was talking to Uncle David. My uncle’s expression was heavy, his eyes rimmed with red. “She passed in the night. I only found out this morning. She went peacefully, no pain. I don’t know if she was having a good dream, but she still had a smile on her face…” As he spoke, tears began to slide down my uncle’s cheeks, hitting the floor. My mother didn’t say a word. She sat quietly, her face devoid of any visible emotion. She simply stared blankly at the small box of my belongings that my uncle had brought back. “And the arrangements?” my uncle asked. “Cremate her,” she said coldly. “Leave the ashes there.” Uncle David nodded. Right then, Ethan walked through the front door. He was spinning a basketball on his finger. Before he even fully stepped inside, he called out, “Mom, is Uncle David here? I saw his truck outside.” A momentary flash of panic crossed my mother and uncle’s faces. Ethan walked in, looking around the living room before heading straight toward my bedroom. When he didn’t find me, he looked at my uncle, confused. “Uncle Dave, didn’t Lily come back with you? Mom said she went to the countryside to hang out with you for a few days. Where is she?” My mother discreetly pinched my uncle’s arm. Uncle David quickly lied, “Oh, Lily is with… your Grandma. She said she wants to stay there until after summer break.” It turned out, Ethan had no idea how sick I really was. He only knew I had been running a lot of fevers, and that Mom had taken me to the doctor. Ethan frowned. “Summer break is still two months away. She’s not coming back? She’s just going to play out there?” My mom walked over and took his backpack and basketball. “Oh, you know your sister isn’t cut out for studying anyway. Let her play. Don’t worry about her.” Ethan looked annoyed. “Who said that? Lily is really smart. Ever since I started supervising her homework, she jumped up ten spots in her class rankings. I need to keep keeping an eye on her.” He turned to my uncle. “Uncle Dave, bring Lily back tomorrow.” My uncle remained completely silent. Before his eyes could turn red again, he turned and walked out the door. My mom walked him out. In the hallway, she whispered, “Don’t tell Mom. She loves Lily the most. She won’t be able to handle it.” Uncle David didn’t say anything. He just looked at her. “Sarah, do you even have a heart? Does this really not hurt you at all?” My mother’s face remained an impenetrable mask. After a long pause, she simply said, “The living still have to live.” Ethan was preparing for his final exams. His workload was massive. But instead of rushing to do his practice tests, he walked over to my desk. He looked at the messy piles of notebooks I had left behind and shook his head with a fond sigh. He started organizing them. Suddenly, he picked up my history workbook. He opened it and saw that I had drawn a pair of roller skates on Abraham Lincoln so he looked like he was zooming away. Ethan laughed out loud. He picked up a pencil and scribbled in the margin: You need to focus on your studies, you little brat. He neatly stacked all my workbooks. Then, he opened my planner and wrote out a detailed study schedule for me. He carefully calculated how many vocabulary words I could memorize each day, mapped out my reading assignments, and wrote it all down. At the bottom, he added a little note in parentheses: (If you can’t finish it all, don’t force yourself. As long as you’re a little better than yesterday, that’s enough.) After finishing my study plan, he stretched his arms over his head. Then, as if remembering something else, he picked up the pencil again. At the very bottom of the schedule, he wrote one last sentence. Lily, you study hard for your own sake. I just want the best for you. He smiled gently as he wrote it, probably imagining how motivated I would be when I finally saw the note. My mother was cooking in the kitchen. When I was little, I loved hanging out in the kitchen with her. Whenever she cooked, I’d act as her little assistant, passing her ingredients and utensils. I always looked so serious doing it. I liked to pretend the kitchen was an operating room. Mom was the lead surgeon, and I was the trusty scrub nurse handing her the scalpels. Sometimes, I’d even take a paper towel and dab the sweat off her forehead, just like the nurses did on TV. It always made her laugh. She’d look at me with such affection and say, “Alright, Nurse Lily, hand the doctor an egg.” Day after day, she had grown completely used to the fact that the kitchen belonged to the two of us. Cooking wasn’t a lonely, tedious chore when I was there. People always say that when someone dies, it doesn’t really hit you right away. When exactly do you realize that a person is truly gone forever? Usually, it happens like this— “Grab me two tomatoes.” My mother scrambled the eggs, and without thinking, tossed them into the hot pan to fry. Once they were done, she scooped them onto a plate, turned around, picked up her knife, and reached her hand out behind her, waiting for me to hand her the tomatoes. Suddenly, her hand froze in mid-air. She looked up. The kitchen was completely empty. She was entirely alone. The whole house felt suffocatingly quiet. She stood frozen in the silence. Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes, brimming over her lashes. She clenched her fists, violently choking back her sobs, desperately trying to suppress the wave of emotion. She tried her hardest to pretend nothing was wrong, letting the tears fall uncontrollably down her cheeks while maintaining a cold, wide-eyed stare. She opened the fridge, grabbed the tomatoes herself, and looked down at the cutting board to slice them. And then, she suddenly remembered. She had never, not once, asked while cooking: “Lily, what do you want to eat today?” She only ever asked Ethan. Ethan would always just say, “Whatever.” And I would lean against her arm and say sweetly, “Whatever Mom makes is my favorite!” Uncle David went back to the countryside to handle my affairs. He took me to the crematorium, and then carried my ashes back to that tiny cabin, all alone. It was nighttime when he arrived. Everything was pitch black. He walked into the cabin. There were no lights. A memory flashed in his mind—the image of me lying there in the dark, clinging to my last breaths, waiting to die. I always lay facing the wall, my back to the door. He set my urn down and went to fold up the blankets I had used. Then, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the single window, he saw the wall I had stared at every day. There, etched into the drywall, was my timeline. I had used a small pebble to scratch tally marks into the wall. Above the marks, I had written a messy, crooked sentence. When I finish the last tally, Mom will come take me home. The final tally mark was missing its very last stroke. I had died that night. Uncle David froze. His brow furrowed in deep agony. He grabbed the blankets, turned around, and left. When he got back to his house, Grandma Jenkins was sitting in the yard under the porch light. She had her reading glasses on, squinting furiously at her old, brick-like flip phone. She looked incredibly angry. I knew exactly why she was angry. I used to call her every other day just to chat. Once, I waited two days to call, and she got so mad. She claimed I hadn’t called her in half a month. I laughed and said, “It hasn’t been half a month! It’s only been two days!” She scoffed proudly. “You think two days is acceptable?! Why haven’t you talked to your grandma in two days? If you don’t want to call, then just don’t call ever again! Just pretend I’m dead!” Her dramatic, prideful act always made me laugh uncontrollably, and I’d spend the next ten minutes gently coaxing her. I promised I would call her every single alternate day. Right now, she was gripping that flip phone, her face tight with stubborn anger, refusing to go to bed. The neighbor lady saw my uncle walk up and said, “Oh, thank God you’re back. Your mother has been wandering around with that phone for days, asking everyone if it’s broken or if she forgot to pay the bill. Please check it for her.” Uncle David knew exactly why Grandma was acting like this. He walked over, gently took the phone from her hands, and tried to help her inside. Grandma resisted. “Give me my phone back.” “Why do you need the phone?” Uncle David said, trying to mask his emotions. “Go to sleep.” “What if Lily calls me? What if I miss it? Give it back.” Uncle David stood in silence, refusing to hand it over. After a long pause, he finally offered a comforting lie. “Lily and Ethan have their final exams coming up. They’re studying day and night. She just doesn’t have time.” Grandma nodded in immediate understanding. “I know, I know. They have their finals. But Lily wouldn’t forget me. Lily isn’t heartless like the rest of you. She doesn’t get busy and just forget I exist. She’s closest to me.” Stubbornly, she snatched the phone back from my uncle’s hand. She sat on the edge of her bed, gripping it tightly, staring at the blank screen. Uncle David’s eyes grew red again. His lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come out. It looked like he wanted to just rip the band-aid off and tell her that Lily was never going to call again. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break her heart. He rubbed his eyes and said, “I saw Lily today.” Grandma’s eyes lit up. She leaned forward eagerly. “Really? You went to their house today?” Uncle David nodded. “Yeah. Lily said her grades used to be bad and she knew it worried you. So she promised she’s going to score a perfect 100 on her finals to show you.” Grandma smiled, nodding her head in pure joy. “Good, good, good. If she’s working that hard, I wouldn’t even mind if she didn’t call me for a whole month.” But then she immediately backtracked. “No, a month is still too long.” Then, remembering something, she beamed happily. “Tomorrow is Sunday. She’ll definitely FaceTime me tomorrow.” Satisfied, she lay down, pulled the covers up, and tucked her precious flip phone safely under her pillow. She closed her eyes, already plotting how she was going to playfully scold me tomorrow for not calling her for five whole days. Thinking about it, she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face. My dad worked very late. By the time he got back to our neighborhood, it was already midnight. The streets were empty. A small pack of stray dogs was roaming around, digging through the trash. One of the dogs stopped and stared at the tall, exhausted silhouette walking through the darkness. The dog stood there, watching him for a long time. My dad recognized him. His name was Shadow. I was the one who named him. When Shadow was a puppy, he almost died. He was the runt of the litter. When it was time to eat, the other puppies aggressively pushed him out of the way to get to their mother’s milk. He was kicked to the side, and even the mother dog rejected him. They say animals instinctively reject weak offspring. They think weak pups can’t survive, so they choose to give their limited resources to the stronger ones. That day, I was walking back from picking up a package with my dad when I found Shadow in the bushes. His mother was right there, but she completely ignored him. I couldn’t bear it. I tugged on my dad’s sleeve. “Dad, can we take him home?” My dad glanced at the puppy and frowned. “No. Your brother needs to study. We can’t have a noisy dog in the house.” I listened to him. I didn’t bring him inside our apartment. Instead, I went down to the basement of our building and used cardboard boxes to build Shadow a little shelter. I lined it with an old blanket I didn’t use anymore, bought him goat’s milk, and set up a small heat lamp to keep him warm. I hid him in a quiet corner and fed him every single day. I researched everything about taking care of puppies and found out he needed his shots. I carried him to a nearby clinic that offered free vaccines for strays. The vet told me Shadow had congenital defects and had been abandoned by his mother. He said Shadow probably wouldn’t live long enough to even need his vaccines. Holding Shadow, I cried my eyes out. But Shadow seemed to sense my sadness. He licked my face, his innocent eyes full of concern and confusion. He didn’t understand why I was crying, but I knew what he was doing. He was trying to comfort me. I shook my head, looked him dead in the eyes, and told him with absolute certainty: “Shadow, listen to me. You can do this. You have to stay alive for me.” Against all odds, Shadow actually lived long enough to get his shots. The vet smiled warmly when I brought him back in. He patted my head, and then patted Shadow’s. With kind, glowing eyes, he said, “Love always creates miracles.” As time went on, Shadow grew up. He became the undisputed king of the neighborhood strays. He was a fierce fighter and bowed down to no one—but the moment he saw me, his tail would wag so hard his whole body shook. Right now, Shadow stood in the distance, watching my father. He slowly approached, sniffing my dad’s shoes and ankles, desperately trying to find my scent. But my dad was exhausted and impatient. He kicked Shadow away. But Shadow refused to give up. He ran off into the dark, and a few minutes later, he came running back. In his mouth, he was carrying a pink, dirt-stained blanket. He chased after my dad. Disgusted by the dirty stray, my dad was about to kick him again when his eyes suddenly caught sight of the faded Hello Kitty print on the blanket. He froze. It was the blanket he had bought for me. When I was in kindergarten, I treated that blanket like a treasure. I couldn’t fall asleep unless I was holding it. It was precious to me because I had begged him for months before he finally agreed to buy it. My dad stared at it, completely shell-shocked. He started chasing Shadow. “Why do you have that blanket?! Give it here!” Shadow grabbed the blanket and bolted. My dad chased him through the dark. He ran and ran, until he tripped and fell hard onto the pavement. And then, he finally broke down crying. He clenched his fists, pounding them against the asphalt, weeping silently into the night. A ragged, agonizing sound tore from his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to scream my name. Shadow took the blanket back to his little cardboard shelter. He curled up in his dark corner, wrapping the pink blanket tightly around himself. He didn’t sleep. He just stared out into the pitch-black night, his dark eyes filled with thoughts I couldn’t comprehend. Maybe he was wondering where I went. Maybe he was wondering if I was ever coming back. Wondering when we would see each other again. When he could run in circles around me, wagging his tail, so happy he wouldn’t even know what sound to make to tell me— “It’s been so long.” My father picked himself up off the pavement, brushed the dirt off his pants, and forced his emotions back down. He walked into the apartment. As soon as he took his shoes off, his eyes landed on the little snack cabinet I had built for him out of cardboard boxes. It was fully stocked with all the snacks I had carefully prepared for him. He always worked so late. He would come home starving, and over the years, he had developed stomach ulcers from the hunger. Because he was always too tired to cook a real meal at midnight, I started preparing a stash of snacks for him. Stuck to the boxes were sticky notes I had written, letting him know which flavors were in which bins. He reached out, his fingers tracing the little hearts and cartoon faces I had drawn on the notes. He grabbed a bag of chips, sat heavily on the couch, and numbly opened it, stuffing a handful into his mouth. A moment later, my mother walked out of the bedroom. He didn’t turn around. His voice was raw. “Honey, what if we just…” Before he could finish his sentence and say we should continue my treatments, my mother cut him off. “She’s dead.”

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Everyone in Manhattan’s elite circles knew Silas Sterling had a girl he kept on a pedestal. She was spoiled, entitled, and utterly arrogant. Even on our wedding day, she showed up in a white gown that mirrored my own, making me look like the punchline of a joke. I stayed silent until my family and I systematically dismantled Silas’s empire and drove him into bankruptcy. Only then did that girl crawl to me on her knees, begging for mercy. I looked down at her with a cold smirk. “Weren’t you the one dying to be his bride?” I asked. “Well, I hope you both enjoy each other’s company in federal prison. Till death do you part.” 1 As I began my walk down the aisle, I saw her. She was standing on the mezzanine balcony of the ballroom, draped in a white silk gown that mirrored my own. She looked down at my fiancé, Silas Sterling, with eyes brimming with tears. And Silas? He was looking right back at her, his expression filled with a longing that made me, the actual bride, look like a circus act. Beside me, my father’s hand tightened on my arm, his knuckles white. I placed my hand over his, forcing him to stay calm. The whispers from the pews were like static in the air: “Who is that girl? Showing up to a wedding dressed as the bride? Where’s the class?” “Don’t you know? That’s Chloe, the ward Silas raised for eighteen years. They’re… ‘close’.” “Everyone knows she’s obsessed with him. The only reason Silas chose Elena Vance is because his mother forced his hand to secure the Vance family merger.” Under the icy glare of the Sterling matriarch, Silas finally, reluctantly, tore his eyes away from the balcony. Chloe was eventually pulled back into the shadows by a bridesmaid, forced to change into a cocktail dress before being ushered to a seat. I marched forward with a dignified smile—the perfect picture of the “refined heiress” Mrs. Sterling Senior demanded. In front of the priest and the city’s elite, I let Silas slide the ring onto my finger. I watched Chloe’s eyes turn a deeper shade of red with every word of the vows. Silas looked miserable. I looked amused. Oh, you’re heartbroken? I thought. Let me give you something real to cry about. Before the reception could even begin, I grabbed Chloe’s hand in front of a group of socialites. I flashed a wide, beaming smile. “You must be Chloe, right? From today on, you can call me Mom.” The surrounding guests froze for a heartbeat before several of them muffled their laughter. I maintained my “gracious” expression, looking at her with faux maternal warmth. “They say a daughter is a father’s first love,” I added, my voice dripping with sugary malice. “Looking at the two of you, I can see that’s true in more ways than one!” Chloe looked like she had been stripped naked in the middle of Times Square. Her deepest, dirtiest secret had just been paraded in front of everyone she wanted to impress. She turned and bolted out of the hall in a fit of hysterical tears. Silas tried to follow her, but I clamped my hand onto his arm with a grip like a vice. “Husband,” I whispered, the smile never leaving my face. “For the sake of the multi-million dollar merger between our firms, I suggest you stay and finish the toast.” He glared at me, his face twisted in a silent snarl of rage. But he stayed. He didn’t have a choice. 2 The wedding was a “success,” at least for the stock market. Silas was immediately buried in the overseas expansion project we had launched together. He didn’t have time to play peacemaker between his new wife and his “little girl,” so I had to handle her myself. When I arrived at the Sterling estate for the first time as its mistress, I found my designer luggage sitting on the wet grass of the front lawn. Chloe was standing in the grand doorway, arms crossed, looking down her nose at me like she owned the place. I grew up as a Vance. My family’s staff didn’t even breathe without my permission. When my personal assistant saw the suitcases on the grass, her hand literally twitched. I held her back. I stepped out of the car, leaned down, and picked up an emerald necklace that had spilled out of one of my bags. I stood up and looked at Chloe with a playful glint in my eye. “Do you have any idea how much this insurance premium costs?” Chloe scoffed. “Only peasants care about the price of jewelry. I have drawers full of stuff Silas bought me. Do you want some of my hand-me-downs, Elena?” I didn’t say a word. I just looked at my assistant. She didn’t need a verbal command. She stepped forward and delivered a backhand so sharp the sound echoed off the limestone pillars. Chloe stumbled back, clutching her face in disbelief. “How dare you?” she shrieked. My assistant sneered. “Know your place. You’re talking to a Vance.” Following my nod, the staff pinned Chloe down, forcing her to her knees at my feet. I reached down and tilted her chin up with one finger, admiring the shock on her pampered face. Then I slapped her. Twice. Hard. This was a gated community. The houses were close. The sound of the blows brought the neighbors out onto their balconies. I didn’t care. I let out a light laugh. “Listen to me, Chloe. I know Silas has babied you for a decade. But I’m the woman of this house now. You want to marry him? Get in line. But until you do, you’re under my thumb.” “Keep acting out, and I will break you every single time until you learn to sit.” Chloe tried to scream a curse at me. I slapped her again, making sure her lip bled. Suddenly, someone came sprinting from the neighboring lawn. “Elena! Stop it! She’s just a kid!” I turned to see Greg Montgomery, the neighborhood playboy, grabbing my wrist. I didn’t hesitate. My free hand swung around and connected with his face, too. As he stood there, stunned and clutching his cheek, I hissed: “Greg, mind your own business. Chloe is a legal adult. If you want to play house with her, do it on your own time. This is a family matter, and frankly, you don’t have the bank balance to interfere.” His face turned beet red. “The Vance Group just acquired thirty percent of your father’s firm,” I reminded him. “If you want to keep your trust fund, I suggest you go back inside.” He went silent. I looked at my staff. They grabbed Chloe by the hair and dragged her into the house like a bag of trash. 3 Chloe wasn’t related to Silas by blood, but he had raised her since she was a toddler. Their dynamic was sick. Her bedroom was literally connected to his through a shared walk-in closet. The house staff whispered that Silas liked to stay close in case she had “nightmares.” I laughed when I heard it. “So,” I said to the head housekeeper, who was looking at me with pure terror. “I’m the third wheel in my own marriage? Is this a group project?” The housekeeper knew I wasn’t someone to mess with. By that evening, every single one of Chloe’s belongings had been moved to a guest suite in the basement. I watched the boxes go down, my expression cold. I didn’t care what Silas did in his spare time. But if Chloe thought she could scream in my face and get away with it, she was delusional. Silas came home that night, clearly tipped off that his “princess” was being mistreated. At the dinner table, I sat elegantly in a silk robe, sipping soup. When I set a bowl down for Silas, he looked at me, let out a disgusted scoff, and swiped the bowl off the table with his forearm. The scalding broth splattered across my hand. Across the table, Chloe’s eyes lit up with malicious joy, though she quickly masked it with a fake, worried pout. “Does it hurt?” Silas sneered. “Not as much as Chloe’s face hurts after you attacked her this morning. Do you think you’re untouchable just because of your last name, Elena?” Chloe stood up, playing the peacemaker. “Uncle Silas, please… don’t fight. It was my fault.” I slowly stood up. The “gracious wife” mask was gone. I looked Silas dead in the eye and delivered a bone-shattering slap across his face. “Silas Sterling,” I said, my voice like a whip. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt. But don’t you dare think for one second that I’m the kind of woman who takes hits.” The ring on my finger had caught his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. Chloe screamed and rushed to his side. “Silas! Are you okay?” I didn’t stop. I grabbed the porcelain dinner plate and smashed it onto the floor. A shard flew up and nicked Chloe’s eyelid. She shrieked, covering her eye. My security team stepped in, forming a wall between me and an enraged Silas. I picked up a sharp piece of porcelain from the floor. 4 Silas tried to lunge at me, but he couldn’t get past my guards. “ELENA! STOP!” he roared. I ignored him. I looked at my assistant and nodded. She stepped forward, grabbed Chloe’s arm, and held it steady. Before Chloe could even realize what was happening, I used the porcelain shard to carve two quick lines into her cheek. Nothing deep, just enough to leave a permanent reminder. Chloe wailed, backing away in horror. I stood there, smoothing out my robe, and picked up a glass of Cabernet. I raised it toward Silas. “Silas, if you were smart, you wouldn’t have married me. You need the Vance money to keep your company afloat, and as long as I’m the one paying the bills, I run the house.” “Chloe is a houseguest. If she insults me again, I’ll make sure she’s deaf or blind by morning. Do I make myself clear?” I set the glass down and walked upstairs without looking back. While we were fighting, my staff had already called Silas’s mother. They told her Chloe had staged a coup and that Silas was helping her bully me. Since the Vance-Sterling merger was the only thing keeping their family out of the tabloids, Mrs. Sterling Senior was terrified. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, her private car was already in the driveway to pick me up. I left with my staff and spent the next two weeks at the Sterling family estate. Mrs. Sterling spent the entire time apologizing to me, plying me with heirloom diamonds to make sure I didn’t tell my father to pull the funding. I played the “broken, dutiful wife” perfectly. 5 I stayed at the family estate until Silas finally came to beg me to return. My brother had “accidentally” mentioned to Silas during a board meeting that he was looking into other investment opportunities. Silas knew what that meant. When we finally returned to the villa, the layout had changed. The housekeeper had replaced the modern furniture with the heavy, antique pieces I preferred. It felt like a fortress. I took off my coat and smiled at the butler. “Where is Chloe?” Before Silas could speak, the butler bowed. “Miss Chloe moved into a private apartment downtown. She said she didn’t want to disturb your peace.” I raised an eyebrow. “She moved to the Chelsea District?” I asked. The butler hesitated. I smirked. “Isn’t that building known for housing ‘kept women’?” I laughed. “Silas, really? You’re making it look so tawdry. People will talk.” “Poor Chloe. Her reputation in the city is going to be ruined. She’ll never find a decent husband now.” Silas’s face was a map of humiliation. He and I were both sharks; we knew exactly what the move meant. He wanted her where I couldn’t touch her, but in doing so, he had effectively branded her as his mistress. I didn’t care. I spent the next month systematically taking over the house. I fired the staff loyal to him. I audited the household accounts. I made sure every person under that roof knew who held the checkbook. By the time Chloe came back for a visit, the house was a Vance stronghold. She had been quiet lately, focusing on her senior year at the New York School of Design. Silas had spent millions to get her in, despite her mediocre grades. He even promised her a trip to Paris once she finished her thesis. At dinner, Chloe was back to her old tricks, whining about how “hard” her design project was. Silas was cooing over her, promising her the world. I couldn’t help it. I let out a sharp laugh. Chloe snapped. “What’s so funny? Do you think my education is a joke?” “I think your grades are a joke,” I said smoothly. “That’s an Ivy-equivalent school. Do you really think you got in on talent?” My assistant chimed in with a smirk: “Our lady graduated summa cum laude from Oxford. She actually knows what a library looks like. Unlike some people who buy their way through.” I looked at Silas. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. He had kept Chloe in a bubble, making her believe she was a genius. I just enjoyed watching the bubble pop.

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The Campbell family, the wealthiest in the capital, sent people to find Alice Campbell. I was with her, catching chickens on our farm. They said Alice was the Campbell family’s missing heir, presumed gone for five years, inheriting billions. “This money is the Campbell family’s compensation for your five years. We hope you’ll accept it.” I knew this money was hush money, severing any connection between Alice and me. Alice’s eyes were bloodshot. She clutched my sleeve, looking wronged and sad. “I’ll go back, but only if he comes with me!” Watching everyone exchange awkward glances, I wiped chicken manure from my hands and, in front of Alice, accepted the black card. “Alice, you go back alone.” “I’m used to living in the South. The North is dry and cold; I don’t like it.” Alice, it’s not that I haven’t gone back with you before. It’s just that I died too tragically in my last life. This time, I’ve learned my lesson. 1. The December wind was damp and cold. Alice tightly gripped my sleeve, her eyes glistening. “Lucas, are you abandoning me?” The same words, the same look as in my previous life. But this time, I wouldn’t soften. Through her, I looked at the dark mass of people standing on the ridge, then slowly, one by one, pried Alice’s fingers from my hand. “Alice, you don’t belong here.” “Have you forgotten? You’re just a stray cat or dog I picked up on the roadside.” Alice’s glistening eyes immediately turned crimson at my words. These were the words Alice hated most. When I first found Alice, she couldn’t even speak clearly. When asked her name or where she lived, she knew nothing, only shook her head. Helpless, I had no choice but to keep her with me. Some mischievous children in the village nicknamed her “Fido,” saying she was a dog following me everywhere. Alice hated those words, but couldn’t stop others’ mouths. “Alice, it’s okay.” “Their mouths are their own. As long as we know it’s not true, that’s what matters.” My deceased grandfather taught me that. Later, I taught it to Alice. But now, I was saying those very words to Alice myself. “Lucas, are our five years of shared life only worth this amount of money?” Alice’s voice trembled as she spoke. In my previous life, I also felt our five years together shouldn’t be severed by mere money. So even knowing that returning to Capital City with her would mean facing scrutiny and criticism from the Campbell family, I still wanted to stand by her side and face it together. “Alice, without money, people die. But without sentiment, people live more easily.” “You should know how important money is, having been with me for these five years. This money can ensure my grandmother and I live comfortably for the rest of our lives.” I didn’t want to get further entangled with Alice. I called out to the people behind her: “What are you still waiting for?” “Are you expecting your Miss Campbell to climb into the car herself?” My utterly indifferent words landed, and Alice completely lost it. She snatched the card from my hand, forcefully snapped it in half, and threw it into a nearby muddy puddle. Alice desperately clung to me, holding on tightly. “Lucas, I don’t want to go!” “I just want to be with you! I promised Grandma I would take good care of you. You even said we’d have a son and a daughter, that we’d work hard together to buy a house and move to the city!” “Now I can give you the best life, why have you suddenly changed?” Five years had etched Alice’s dependence on me into her bones. She felt she couldn’t leave me, that she absolutely needed me. That was only because, for now, she didn’t remember her fiancée in Capital City. And that fiancée had waited for her painstakingly for five years. If she had known all of this back then, she wouldn’t have chosen to take me with her. “Alice, stop acting like a child.” “Are you really taking a children’s game seriously?” Those arms wrapped around me loosened. “Lucas, you’re so heartless.” The tearful accusation made it sound as if I were a cruel, unfaithful lover deserving of a thousand cuts. But Alice, you don’t know. In my previous life, I also believed we could have a lifetime of happiness. But it wasn’t until you remembered the person you loved that I realized how foolish I had been. The moment my grandmother and I died in that foreign land, I wished for another chance. I would never go back to Capital City with you again. The news that Alice was the daughter of the capital’s wealthiest family quickly spread throughout our impoverished little mountain village. Everyone, wearing ingratiating smiles, gathered in our yard to watch the spectacle. “Lucas, you’ve really hit the jackpot. Don’t forget us folks once you’re rich and famous!” “That’s right, I heard the Campbell family only has one daughter. So you’ll be the heir to a fortune, won’t you?” “I always said this Alice looks different from the children in our poor backwater. See, she’s a rich family princess!” The yard was bustling with their chatter. I glanced over, then walked to the water pump, washed my hands, and splashed water on my face. “Everyone, disperse.” “Alice is gone.” I knew the people gathered at the door simply wanted some benefits from Alice. After all, a little dust falling from the capital’s wealthiest family was enough for an ordinary family’s year-long sustenance. Everyone was surprised I hadn’t gone with her, and murmurs of discussion rose and fell. Too lazy to bother, I closed the door. “Lucas…” Grandma’s weak voice came from the bedroom. I quickly went in. Seeing Grandma, who in my previous life had frozen to death at the Campbell family’s gate because of me, tears welled up in my eyes. “Good child, why are you crying?” “Is it because Alice didn’t want to take you, and you’re sad?” I shook my head. “Then tell Grandma what’s wrong. Grandma will stand up for you.” I shook my head again, helping Grandma sit down. “Grandma, I chose not to go with her.” “I want to stay by your side forever.” Grandma lovingly ruffled my hair, holding me and gently stroking my back. “Silly child…” The lullaby she hummed was like a sleep-inducing melody, drawing me into a dream. But in that dream was my previous life, a past I could never forget. The first day I followed Alice back to Capital City, I stood at the opulent Campbell Manor, carrying the dried fish, dried meat, and free-range chickens Grandma had specially prepared for me. At that moment, I realized what it meant to be out of place. I clutched Alice tightly beside me, as if she were my only lifeline. Alice gently squeezed my hand, smiling. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Those were words I often said to her. When I first found Alice, she was injured everywhere, especially her right knee, which was severely hurt. She always walked with a limp, often mocked and bullied. Back then, I stood in front of her, defending her, telling her, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Grandma and I worked desperately to earn money for her treatment, buying her the best and most expensive rehabilitation equipment. She always said with red eyes that she would repay us someday, promising to earn money and support us once she recovered. Later, she did. But she also broke her promise. “You’re Lucas?” The question came from Alice’s mother, Eleanor. Fifty years old, yet showing no traces of time. Completely different from the fifty-year-old women in our village. I timidly nodded, the expensive carpet beneath my feet feeling like pins pricking my soles. “These are specialties my grandmother asked me to bring. Here, for you…” I crouched down, taking out the items one by one as Grandma had instructed. Alice bent down, handing them over to Eleanor piece by piece. But when I looked up, I saw the almost identical expressions of disgust on their faces. They covered their mouths, frowning, as if what was before them was something filthy. My heart instantly turned cold. Seeing their reaction, Alice roared, “Is no one going to take these?!” No one dared to defy this young princess. At her command, several people scrambled out and carried away everything I had brought. Alice, her face cold, helped me up, then solemnly introduced me to everyone. “This is my boyfriend, Lucas.” “He is my future husband. If you don’t accept him, it means you don’t accept me.” In the enormous living room, you could hear a pin drop. No one dared to speak; the atmosphere was terribly eerie. Until a soft sigh came from the crowd, and a path was automatically cleared. I looked in that direction; a man in a suit silently watched Alice and me. “Alice, you say he is your future husband.” “Then what am I?” 2 The first time I saw Victor, I realized a man could be so refined and handsome. He was like a star stepped out of a movie, dazzling and brilliant. It was then I learned that he and Alice had been childhood sweethearts, growing up together. Their bond was so deep that even when Alice was missing for five years, Victor remained, waiting painstakingly. “Alice, I waited for you for five years. Do you know what those five years were like for me?” “Alice, how could you forget me?” “And how could you fall in love with a man like this?” Alice instinctively let go of my hand. That was the first time I saw such a conflicted expression on Alice’s face. Alice arranged for me to stay in a villa, just across the street from Campbell Manor. That night, Alice held me tightly as she slept, talking about her hopes for the future. “Lucas, this will be our home from now on. Don’t worry, I will give you a proper answer.” “I told you, I only recognize you.” Those words were like a steady anchor, calming my uneasy heart. Alice hadn’t recovered her memory, but she still remembered how to handle company affairs. She traveled between three points every day, and I rarely heard her mention Victor again. Fearing I’d be bored, Alice brought my grandmother to Capital City. Grandma and I spent every day making her favorite dishes, and she always smiled contentedly. Every evening after dinner, we would watch the sunset from the rooftop. We used to love watching the sunset behind the farm in our village; she said she wanted to watch sunsets with me for the rest of her life. Those few months were the happiest time of my life. We no longer worried about money and lived the life we had dreamed of. But later, Alice became increasingly busy with the company, and Grandma and I often went days without seeing her. Occasionally, she’d visit, but only for a short while before leaving. Sunsets, too, became something I watched alone. I often zoned out until nightfall, still unable to wait for Alice to watch the sunset with me. It wasn’t until Alice’s birthday that she said she wanted to take me back to Campbell Manor. I once again stepped into that intimidatingly large house. I wore a suit I wasn’t used to, surrounded by eyes filled with malicious judgment. I tightly gripped Alice, but this time, Alice didn’t say, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” She said, “I’m going upstairs to change. Wait for me here.” I wanted to follow, but she went upstairs before I could speak. The next second, I saw Victor. “Do you know Alice is undergoing memory recovery treatment?” “She’s about to remember me.” A piercing ringing sound erupted in my ears; my nerves snapped at that moment. A violent impact, and I was brutally knocked to the ground. Victor’s sharp heel dug into the back of my hand, almost drilling a hole through it. “Ah…” The elegant music and the chatter of the crowd drowned out my cry of pain. I lay there on the ground, watching Alice, dressed in exquisite attire, pass through the crowd. “Alice!” Victor smiled, waving to her, and walked to her side. They danced song after song amidst thunderous applause, clearly the most perfectly matched couple in the world. Like a prying thief, I numbly turned and left the Campbell residence. Outside, Eleanor was seeing off guests. “Alice and Victor’s wedding is set for the fourth day of the New Year. Make sure you all come.” Amidst the flattery and congratulations, Eleanor said, “Campbell Manor is not a place for just any stray cat or dog.” I knew “stray cat or dog” referred to me. Though it was only across the street, it felt like I walked for an eternity. That day, Alice didn’t return to the villa for the first time. [Lucas, something came up at the company. I won’t be coming over today.] I knew Alice was lying. But some things, I just wanted to hear her say to me. Yet she didn’t come for half a month straight. When she finally did, her face was grim. “Lucas, Victor said he came to Jade Creek Village to find me. He even met you.” “But you kept it hidden. You said you hadn’t seen me. Is that true?” That was the first time I saw Alice angry with me. The way she looked at me was like she was looking at a stranger. I held back the tears welling in my eyes, stubbornly looking up. “I didn’t.” I wouldn’t admit to something I hadn’t done. “I never saw anyone come to Jade Creek Village looking for you!” “You’re still lying!” Alice roared, playing a video on her phone, amplified. The video showed villagers from Jade Creek Village saying they had seen Victor. “Seen him, yes, he came from the city. I even gave him directions.” “That’s right, I told him the person he was looking for was at the Lius’. I was wondering why he didn’t take Miss Campbell home!” “Lucas must have been hiding something malicious!” … One accusation after another, almost everyone was blaming me for hiding Alice. I had no way to defend myself, only continuously clutching Alice’s sleeve, saying I hadn’t. “Lucas isn’t like that, Alice!” “Five years, don’t you trust him?” Grandma, holding me, confronted Alice, pulling at Alice’s hand, telling her not to be fooled by the villagers. But those dark eyes held no trace of tenderness. “My name isn’t Alice; it’s Alice Campbell.” She shook Grandma off, and even when Grandma fell to the ground, her face showed no emotion. I suddenly realized the person in front of me wasn’t my Alice anymore. Her name was Alice Campbell, and she was Victor’s Alice. “If I had known this, I would never have brought you back to Capital City!” Alice’s resolute words were an unspoken death sentence for me. “Alice, you remembered, didn’t you?” I recalled Victor’s words, realizing the woman in front of me had recovered her memory. She hadn’t appeared for half a month straight. Only because she remembered that the person she was meant to love, meant to marry, wasn’t me. “You really didn’t have to put on such a show for me. If you had just said it, I wouldn’t have clung to you.” Alice looked down at me from above, emotionless. “There was no show.” “Lucas, Victor… he waited for me for five years. I can’t let him down.” I lowered my head and couldn’t help but smile, tears streaming down my face. “Her five years are five years. Are my five years not five years?” Alice’s step faltered slightly, but in the end, she walked out of our home without looking back. “This house is your compensation. The Campbell family will also cover your future living expenses.” “From now on, don’t look for me again.” After that, that villa became my cage, and also my tomb. That year was the darkest period of my life. The pain from the dream extended into reality, and I struggled awake. Sitting up, I looked around the room and let out a long sigh of relief. Good, it was just a dream. This time, I didn’t go with Alice. Suddenly, there was an urgent knock at the door. I pushed open the door, my palm sweating slightly, hidden by my side. Standing outside the door was no one else. It was Alice.

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Our families were merging their trusts, and an alliance was required. When my older brother asked me who I wanted to choose, I didn’t hesitate. I chose my arrogant, playboy childhood best friend: Cole Harrington. Yet, after we married, he kept his first love strung along. They even ended up having a child together. When his wealthy friends joked about his infidelity, Cole just scoffed. “Vivienne Vance is the world’s biggest doormat. No matter what I do to her, she’ll never leave.” My heart finally died. I packed my things and walked away, only to end up in a horrific pile-up on the interstate. Two lives were lost that night—mine, and the baby I was carrying. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the evening of the engagement gala. Chapter 1 “Vivi, have you decided who you want to choose?” my brother, Wyatt, asked gently. I stood frozen, trembling from head to toe, completely unable to process that I had actually been reborn. Before I could answer, Mrs. Harrington stepped right up to me, slipping a priceless vintage estate ring onto my finger. She smiled warmly. “Vivi will definitely pick our rotten boy. They grew up together, thick as thieves. No one can compare to their bond.” “Mom, are you drunk without touching a drop?” Cole sneered, his brow furrowing as he looked at me. “Who wants to marry Vivienne? Her grades were awful, she’s short, and her looks are painfully average. Marry her? She’d taint the Harrington gene pool.” His gaze was laced with a deep, unmistakable disgust. It was the exact same venomous tongue as my past life. Back then, I was so blinded by love I thought it was just our usual childhood banter. I never realized that Cole genuinely despised me. Snapping out of my daze, I immediately took two steps back. “Mrs. Harrington… Cole and I are just friends.” The words dropped, and the bustling ballroom went dead silent. Everyone in elite society knew the Vances and Harringtons were century-old allies. And everyone knew I had been hopelessly in love with Cole Harrington since we were kids. Mrs. Harrington’s smile stiffened. She pulled her eyes away from me and sharply slapped her son’s shoulder. “Stop talking nonsense! If our family manages to marry Vivi, it means we hit the absolute jackpot.” Cole clearly hadn’t expected me to reject him. His already icy expression dropped a few degrees colder. My hands shook as I tugged at Wyatt’s tuxedo jacket. My eyes were red. “I don’t feel well,” I whispered. “I want to go home.” The corporate marriage wasn’t urgent. Wyatt immediately raised his hand to summon his driver. But in the next second, Cole grabbed my wrist. He practically dragged me toward the exit, his voice hard. “Wyatt, I’ll take Vivi home myself.” His grip was like a vice; I couldn’t pry his fingers off. I wanted to call out for help, but when I looked back, Mrs. Harrington had expertly stepped in front of my brother to block his path. The moment we stepped out of the hotel doors, Cole ruthlessly threw my hand away. Off-balance, my high heels betrayed me. I stumbled backward. Out of pure instinct, I reached my hand out toward him to catch myself. Cole hadn’t anticipated the fall. He reached out to grab me, but my reflexes kicked in faster. I violently yanked my hand back and crashed hard onto the concrete pavement. A sharp, shooting pain radiated up my spine. My face twisted in agony. Cole’s expression shifted. He stepped forward to help me up. “Don’t come near me,” I snapped without a second of hesitation. Catching my breath, I unbuckled the designer stilettos, pushed myself off the ground with my bare hands, and stood up. My reaction turned Cole’s face completely dark. He sneered, “What kind of game is this? Playing hard to get? Vivienne, since when did your tricks get so pathetic?” I looked up at him. Without realizing it, tears had pooled in my eyes. “Cole…” There was so much I wanted to say, so much pain I wanted to hurl at him. But meeting his eyes—seeing that same profound disgust—every word felt like a fishbone lodged in my throat. I looked down and let out a broken laugh. Before he could speak again, I threw the ten-thousand-dollar heels onto the pavement, turned my back, and walked away barefoot without a single ounce of hesitation. Those shoes were a coming-of-age gift from Cole. Mrs. Harrington had told me he spent weeks picking them out. Knowing how important tonight’s gala was, I specifically chose to wear them. But I forgot that the shoes were a half-size too big. They didn’t belong to me. Just like I forgot that forcing a fit with the wrong person will never work out. Chapter 2 Cole didn’t chase after me. To him, this was just another calculated, manipulative stunt to get his attention. When I finally got home, I climbed into the bathtub, feeling entirely drained. My mind was a hurricane, spinning with every horrific event from my past life. My hands clamped down on the edges of the porcelain tub, shaking uncontrollably. The water slowly crept over my nose, and I choked violently, coughing up water as I scrambled out of the tub, finally fully awake. I wrapped myself in a robe and stared at the mirror. This face had no burn scars. It was flawless. I touched my cheeks, bowed my head, and began to sob hysterically. In my past life, the Harrington estate caught fire. Cole didn’t hesitate; he scooped up his first love, his “golden girl,” and carried her out to safety, leaving me behind. I was left trapped in the flames. By the time the firefighters pulled me out, my face was irreparably destroyed. Afterward, Cole explained it away. “I didn’t see you. Chloe’s legs were pinned under a beam, and the fire was spreading too fast. I had to save her first.” Remembering that, I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the cheek. It was laughable. I was as stupid as a dog in that life, played like a fiddle by Cole’s empty excuses. Maybe because the shock of rebirth was so heavy, I tossed and turned all night, trapped in nightmares of the past. When I woke up the next morning, my entire body ached with exhaustion. Perhaps noticing something was wrong last night, Wyatt—who usually left for the corporate office at dawn—was sitting downstairs waiting for me. “Come eat breakfast since you’re up.” Wyatt looked at the dark circles under my eyes, a flash of deep heartache crossing his face. “Did I wake you up when I came in late last night?” I shook my head, my eyes watering as I sprinted into his arms. I hugged my brother with everything I had. Wyatt froze for a second, then set his newspaper down and gently patted my back. He spoke softly. “If loving the Harrington boy is too exhausting, then stop loving him, okay? Even if you never marry in this lifetime, I can take care of you forever.” I sniffled, choking back a sob. The truth was, the families didn’t strictly need an alliance. Wyatt had just noticed how deeply I loved Cole, so he paved the road for me. Remembering how Wyatt had died taking a bullet for me in my past life, my chest tightened with agonizing pain. I hugged him even tighter. Until a light cough broke the silence. I turned my head, my eyes still red. I hadn’t noticed a man sitting on the adjacent sofa. With tears blurring my vision, I couldn’t make out his face at first. The man smirked. “Good morning, Princess.” I blinked in shock, quickly stepping out of Wyatt’s arms as I recognized Liam Sullivan. He was Wyatt’s closest friend. In my past life, after my brother was murdered, it was Liam who hunted down the killer and beat him to death with his bare hands. The last time I saw him, he was behind the glass in a state penitentiary. He told me he wanted to take me away. He told me Wyatt’s death wasn’t a simple kidnapping. But I was blinded by love. I genuinely believed that Cole, a man I had known for decades, could never be involved in something so sinister. By the time I realized Liam was right, I was bleeding out on the interstate. In a daze, I also remembered the very last voice I heard before I died. “Why are you here?” I blurted out in shock. At this hour, Liam should have been dead to the world, sleeping off another wild night of partying. Liam raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Ahem,” Wyatt cleared his throat, gesturing toward the breakfast spread. I nodded, sat down, and started eating, sneaking glances at the man behind me every so often. After a few bites, Wyatt hesitated before asking, “Vivi, did Cole do something to upset you recently?” I looked at my brother, not quite understanding. Wyatt unlocked his phone and pulled up Cole’s latest Instagram story. It was a photo of a foggy mountain peak at dawn. The caption read: “What do I do? I made the princess angry. How do I coax her back?” My fingers clamped around my spoon, my entire body trembling with a rage I couldn’t suppress. In my past life, it was this exact post that tricked me into believing Cole actually cared about me. It wasn’t until much later I discovered that his “princess” was his first love, Chloe Jenkins. It was never me. The warm oatmeal suddenly tasted like wax. I couldn’t swallow it. I lowered my eyes, my voice shaking. “Wyatt, I don’t want to talk about Cole ever again.” In this life, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. The twenty years I spent loving him was nothing but pathetic, unrequited delusion. Wyatt paused. He didn’t say a word. He just opened his text thread with Cole—a thread where Wyatt had been asking him if I made it home safe—and ruthlessly blocked and deleted the contact. He smiled warmly. “As long as your brother is around, you will never suffer a single grievance.” Tears welled in my eyes again. Wyatt was always like this. He chose me without hesitation. When I loved Cole, he built the bridge. When I hated him, he’d gladly burn it down. Chapter 3 After breakfast, Wyatt took me to his corporate headquarters. Originally, I was supposed to inherit the company. But because I was so obsessed with marrying Cole, I wanted to dedicate all my time to him. I practically never showed up to work, which caused massive operational issues. Wyatt had to abandon his ventures in Europe just to come back and clean up my mess. The employees all knew about my obsession with Cole. As I walked through the lobby, an assistant covertly tried to hand me a limited-edition movie poster of Cole. Before I could even react, a hand shot out, snatched the poster, crushed it into a ball, and tossed it into the nearest trash can. I looked up. It was Liam. Wyatt’s voice rang out coolly. “From this day forward, no merchandise or mention of Cole Harrington is permitted in this building.” It hit me then—I had almost forgotten that Cole was an A-list Hollywood actor. Once we got into the executive office, Wyatt instructed his assistant, “Pass the word down. Tear down any posters of Cole Harrington in the breakrooms. And also…” “Wyatt, you don’t have to go that far,” I interrupted. After all, Vance Corp still had massive business dealings with the Harringtons. Wyatt saw through my worry. He shook his head with a light laugh. “I told you, you won’t suffer any grievances.” With a wave of his hand, he sent the assistant off to execute the order. Wyatt had to step out for an emergency board meeting, leaving just me and Liam in the massive office. I didn’t actually interact much with Liam. The only thing I knew about him was that he had been hopelessly in love with a girl for years, but couldn’t have her because she loved someone else. Feeling his intense gaze on me, I awkwardly looked away. A moment later, my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, stared at the screen for three seconds, and hung up without hesitation. Liam raised a brow, amused. “Not gonna answer?” “Spam call,” I said, my face dropping into a scowl. A second later, a text popped up: [I’m sick. Bring me medicine.] Followed immediately by a hotel room number. I stared at the screen, my brow furrowing deeply, completely oblivious that Liam had stood up and walked over. By the time I noticed, Liam was smirking over my shoulder. “Well, well. Who’s sending our princess hotel room numbers?” My situational awareness was usually top-tier. In the past, I could sense Cole walking into a room before I even saw him. But this time, I jumped, clutching my chest as I gasped for air. Liam seemed equally surprised by my severe reaction. He grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me, though he couldn’t resist a jab. “That room number looks familiar. Isn’t that the Harrington golden boy’s permanent suite at the Ritz?” Every heir in our circle had a dedicated suite at the top hotels. Cole’s room was always 0726. In my past life, I never thought twice about it. But now, it clicked with sickening clarity. July 26th. Chloe’s birthday. My fingers began to tremble violently. Liam, who had been teasing me just a second ago, instantly sensed the shift. His smirk vanished, replaced by a dark frown. “What is it? Did that Harrington punk put his hands on you?” “I might not be good at corporate politics,” Liam added, his voice dropping low, “but I’m excellent at breaking bones.” I shook my head quickly, then immediately blocked and deleted Cole’s number. “He’s an insignificant person now. It’s not worth getting into trouble over someone who doesn’t matter,” I said, looking up at Liam. His eyes were incredibly intense, holding a flirtatious depth that made my face flush. Liam clearly didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push it. Chapter 4 Back in suite 0726, Cole was waiting for his medicine. Yesterday, someone had witnessed our fight outside the gala, and the elite group chats were having a field day. [Ooh, trouble in paradise? The childhood sweethearts breaking up?] [The Vance princess looked genuinely pissed this time.] [Cole, stop pissing Vivi off. If she actually stops caring about you one day, you’ll cry yourself to sleep.] Reading the messages, Cole let out a cold, arrogant scoff. He had known Vivienne since they were toddlers. He knew her personality inside and out. Once she showed up with the medicine, he’d buy her a cheap designer trinket, and she’d immediately go back to being his pathetic, loyal puppy. They had played this game a thousand times. He was genuinely getting bored of it. He lounged on the velvet sofa, scrolling through TikTok for over half an hour, but his medicine never arrived. The group chat was still popping off, people asking if she had come crawling back yet. The relentless teasing finally struck a nerve. Cole aggressively closed the app, opened his pinned contacts, and dialed her number. Call failed. He froze. He stared at the screen, bewildered, and dialed again. Call failed. The young heir of the Harrington empire had never been blocked a day in his life. He didn’t even know what the dial tone meant. He had to Google it. When he read the search results, he sat entirely paralyzed for a full minute. When reality finally set in, his face contorted in rage. He hurled his brand-new iPhone against the marble floor, shattering it into a dozen pieces. “Vivienne Vance. You’ve got nerve.” Miles away, I had no idea what kind of tantrum Cole was throwing, and frankly, I couldn’t care less. By the time Wyatt finished his board meeting, it was past noon. Liam stretched lazily and suggested, “Let’s get hotpot. I’m craving it.” I looked at Liam. Whenever I was in a terrible mood, I loved eating insanely spicy hotpot. I would eat until my lips went numb so I wouldn’t have the brain capacity to think about my miserable life. Cole had definitely ruined my morning, but right now, I felt surprisingly free. Wyatt didn’t know the context, but seeing I had no objections, he told his assistant to book a table for three. We went to our usual high-end spot. Walking through the doors, a wave of nostalgia hit me. In my past life, when I got pregnant, Cole claimed spicy food would stunt the baby’s development. For nine excruciating months, I wasn’t allowed to touch a single drop of chili oil. To hell with Cole Harrington. To hell with his rules. The moment we sat down, I ordered everything on the menu, telling the manager, “I want the broth entirely spicy. Extra spicy. Lethal.” It was the first time I had ever shown such a fiery temper. Even the manager looked a bit shocked. Suddenly, I remembered Wyatt telling me once that Liam couldn’t handle spice at all. I quickly corrected myself, “Wait, make it a split pot, please.” We were seated in a private VIP room, so I didn’t have to worry about maintaining the elegant socialite facade. When the food arrived, I dove in, practically inhaling the beef. Wyatt shot Liam a curious look, communicating silently. Liam just waved his hand dismissively. But midway through the meal, a loud commotion erupted outside our private doors. I hated loud noises. Hearing the shouting, my face instantly scrunched up. Seeing my reaction, Liam raised a hand and flagged down the manager. “I’m buying out the restaurant for the rest of the afternoon. Let the current guests finish, but don’t seat anyone else. It’s getting too loud.” He pulled out a sleek black Amex card. The manager didn’t take it. He looked terrified. “Mr. Sullivan… it’s the Harrington boy. He just walked in.” Neither the Vances nor the Harringtons were people a restaurant manager could afford to offend. He was paralyzed. I stopped chewing. Before any of us could react, a voice cut through the tension faster than the door opening. “Wyatt, you don’t mind if I bring a plus-one, do you?” Chapter 5 Cole strode into the room without waiting for an answer. Before anyone could reject him, he waved a hand behind him. Chloe Jenkins, dressed in a form-fitting silk dress, stepped out from behind his shadow. She offered a sickeningly sweet smile. “Pardon the intrusion, everyone.” Cole pulled out a chair and sat down right across from me. Facing Wyatt and Liam’s deadly glares, he smiled effortlessly. “Suddenly had a craving for hotpot. This is my assistant, Chloe. We went to high school together, figured it was a good time for everyone to meet…” “I refuse,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. Crashing our private lunch like this was something Cole had never done before. I didn’t understand what he was playing at, and I didn’t care to figure it out. Chloe, who had been halfway through sitting down, immediately stood back up, acting deeply wronged. She looked at Cole with huge, teary eyes. Cole’s casual smile vanished instantly. Completely ignoring my brother’s presence, he issued a cold warning. “Vivienne, if you keep throwing these tantrums, I swear to God I will never speak to you again.” The entire room fell into a suffocating silence. Even the manager, who had been secretly wiping sweat from his forehead, froze in place. Wyatt’s face turned thunderous. He opened his mouth to absolutely decimate Cole, but I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. I looked Cole dead in the eye. “Please. Never speak to me again. Cole Harrington, from today onward—no, from yesterday onward—we are complete strangers. Whether you live or die has absolutely nothing to do with me.” I never want to love Cole again. I never want to know him again. This was the vow I repeated to myself all night long. Cole’s entire body went rigid. He clearly never expected me to say something so final. His eyes darted to Liam, who was sitting comfortably beside me. Cole didn’t recognize Liam. Assuming he was just some young, fresh-faced heir, Cole sneered mockingly. “Ha. No wonder you cut ties with me so fast. You already had a backup lined up.” “You really have no shame, Vivienne. Professing your undying love to me yesterday, booking a private room with another guy today.” “Then again, a pretty boy like this does have a decent face.” His insults flowed effortlessly, turning the air in the room dangerously cold. Even Chloe felt the shift; she desperately tugged at Cole’s jacket under the table, but he ignored her. Liam just laughed. He leaned back in his chair, radiating an arrogant, untouchable aura. He didn’t seem angry at the insults at all. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and pointed directly at Chloe. Cole didn’t understand the gesture. Not until a horde of paparazzi burst through the restaurant’s front doors. Liam clapped his hands lazily. He smirked. “If Vivi actually liked me, it would be the honor of my life. But an A-list actor caught secretly hooking up with his assistant? I wonder if that headline is explosive enough?” He threw a flirtatious wink at the flashing cameras. The reporters, entirely seduced by the drama, instantly swarmed Cole and Chloe, cornering them against the table. Before I could even process what was happening, Liam grabbed my hand, pulled me up, and sneaked me out the back exit. I hadn’t expected Liam to speak up for me. Remembering what he just said, my heart skipped a strange beat before settling back down. “Liam, thank you.” I turned to look for my brother. Wyatt, usually the epitome of calm, was furiously barking orders into his phone at his executive assistant. “Set up a meeting with the Harrington board. Let’s see exactly how they raised this bastard of a son.” “And run a full background check on Chloe Jenkins and her exact relationship with Cole!” He didn’t skip a beat. Wyatt was still burning with rage. I gently grabbed his hand. Originally, I just wanted to quietly sever ties with the Harringtons and never see them again. But I knew Wyatt. He would never let anyone disrespect me like that, and Cole’s insults had crossed a massive line. “Wyatt, Cole’s words can’t hurt me anymore. I just want you…” I paused, looking over at Liam as well. “I just want you both to be safe, healthy, and alive.”

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