Category: English

1 I was about to cross the Atlantic with the life-saving matched targeted drug when my husband’s ex-wife suddenly rushed into the aisle. With red eyes, she flashed the international distress signal, thumb tucked inside a clenched fist, to the air marshal. My mother-in-law was clinging to life in the ICU. To seize the golden three-hour window for her surgery, I fought tooth and nail to protect the medical cooler, shoving the ex-wife into the lavatory and locking her in. I didn’t waste a single second delivering the drug to the operating room. We pulled my mother-in-law back from the brink of death. But because she was arrested for filing a false report and endangering aviation safety, my husband’s ex-wife sank into depression and took her own life in prison. On the day my mother-in-law was discharged, my husband lured me to the rooftop of the hospital and pushed me off without a shred of hesitation. “Seraphina was just too kind! She was only worried about everyone’s safety on that flight! How could you treat her like a terrorist?” I shattered onto the pavement below. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the cabin, with the air marshal’s baton drawn, closing in on me. This time, I didn’t struggle. I knelt, hands over my head, cooperating fully. “Officer, I suspect this box might be dangerous too. For everyone’s safety, please run a full bomb threat check immediately!” Whatever. Once we land, the person rotting in the ICU waiting for a surgery that will never happen isn’t my mother anyway. The air marshal pinned me against the cabin wall, my arms twisted painfully behind my back. That was the moment I knew I had actually traveled back in time. My husband, Oliver, was shielding Seraphina, his face painted with protective tenderness. “Don’t be scared, Seraphina. I’m right here. You’re safe.” Dressed in a pristine white maxi dress, Seraphina shrank behind Oliver like a startled fawn. Under the air marshal’s wary gaze, she pointed a trembling finger at the thermal cooler clutched in my arms, tears streaming down her face. “Officer, she has hazardous material! She’s trying to kill everyone on this plane! I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I had to speak up!” The marshal’s expression hardened. He radioed for backup and snapped a plastic zip-tie around my wrists, shoving me rough against the paneling. I took a deep breath, keeping my voice deadpan. “Officer, this is a misunderstanding. I flew to Boston to collect matched targeted stem-cell drugs. This cooler contains life-saving medication for my mother-in-law in London. It’s not a bomb.” The officer stared at me, eyes filled with deep suspicion. In my past life, my mother-in-law had been genuinely kind to me, so a part of me still wanted her to survive. “Officer, she’s been placed on life support, and the hospital has issued three critical condition notices. Please inspect it quickly. If the temperature seal is compromised for too long, she won’t survive the night.” Hearing this, Oliver instantly barked at me: “Cut the crap, Gemma! The doctor literally called ten minutes ago and said Mom’s stable in the ICU! You’ve been acting like a manic wreck this entire trip, and now you’re cursing my own mother to die?” Seraphina’s eyes flickered. Seizing the moment, she adopted an expression of deep, sorrowful realization. “Did you hear that, Officer? His mother is perfectly fine, yet she’s putting on this frantic, life-or-death act! Look at how wild her eyes are. She’s definitely hiding something malicious! I can’t let any potential threat to innocent lives slip by!” Staring at the security guard’s taser, I didn’t scream, cry, or lose my mind like I did in my previous life. Instead, I calmly walked with the airport security team to the screening room to undergo a thorough inspection. Half an hour later. I presented every single prescription, purchase receipt, and international medical permit. After verifying the documents, the lead officer gave Seraphina a harsh, stern lecture on the legal consequences of making false reports and disrupting public order. Seraphina’s eyes welled with tears, but her jaw remained stubborn. “Officer, I only did it for everyone’s safety! What if there really was a threat and no one had the courage to speak up? Even if I’m misunderstood, I will always choose to protect people!” The officer rolled his eyes, a gesture completely lost on Seraphina. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to bow deeply to the exhausted security team, her voice dripping with sweet, angelic sincerity. “Thank you for keeping us safe, officers. You work so hard to fight crime. Please take good care of yourselves!” Once we stepped out of the security office, Oliver didn’t blame her at all. He pulled her into a comforting embrace and glared at me. “Gemma, what’s with the attitude? Seraphina is fragile. She only reported you because she was genuinely terrified! It’s your own fault for acting so sketchy and scaring her in the first place!” I looked at his self-righteous face and spoke in a flat tone. “Oliver, because of your ‘precautionary measures,’ our flight has already taken off without us.” 2 To catch the next available flight, we had to sprint through the massive airport terminal. I ran at the front, clutching the medical cooler. Seraphina, in her long white dress, stumbled behind, panting heavily. “Gemma… why are you running so fast… wait for me…” I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to glare at the lagging couple. “Why am I running? Because of you! We had plenty of time on the way to the airport. But you just had to spot a dead stray cat on the curb, force the driver to pull over, dig a grave, and hold a mini-funeral for it! You wasted thirty minutes!” “And then you pulled that stunt with security! If we don’t run now, we’ll miss this flight too. Do you actually want to save Oliver’s mother or not?” Hit where it hurt, Seraphina’s tears cascaded instantly. She clutched Oliver’s sleeve, looking utterly devastated. “Oliver, I’m so sorry… I just can’t stand to see animals suffer. Every life is equal, even a stray cat’s… How can Gemma be so heartless…” Oliver’s heart melted. He shielded Seraphina behind him and snapped at me with absolute irritation. “Gemma, that’s enough! The doctors said Mom is stable! What are you rushing for?” “Seraphina has the heart of a saint. She can’t stand seeing animals hurt. What did she do wrong? She’s willing to put herself on the line for others, while you’ve been acting like a bulldozer this entire trip!” I let out a cold laugh. “Oliver, the person we are flying to save is your mother.” “You think I don’t know that?!” Oliver snarled. “If she’s my mother, why are you rushing like the grim reaper is chasing us? Are you hoping she dies?!” I shut my mouth, refusing to waste another breath on this hopeless idiot, and boarded the plane. Of course, once we got on, Seraphina found another way to cause a scene. Her assigned seat was across the aisle from us, but she insisted on swapping seats with a passenger, demanding to sit right between Oliver and me. “I can’t. I’ll panic if I sit alone. I need to be next to Oliver…” The flight attendant tried to explain the seating policy, but Seraphina refused to budge, standing in the aisle with tear-filled eyes. Eventually, amid the annoyed groans of the surrounding passengers, Oliver stepped in to guilt-trip the poor passenger next to me until they finally gave up their seat. Sitting triumphantly between us, she wrapped her arm around Oliver’s, casting a smug, provocative glance my way. I didn’t even give her a second look. I slipped on my sleep mask and leaned back. Because of all these delays, the window for my mother-in-law’s surgery had shrunk to almost nothing. 3 Once the plane reached cruising altitude, we hit a pocket of turbulence. The cabin jolted violently. Beep The medical cooler in my lap let out a faint, high-pitched mechanical hum as its internal cooling system adjusted to the vibration. Hearing the beep, Seraphina, who had been secretly watching me the whole time, flinched. It was as if some loose wire in her brain had suddenly sparked. “Oh my god! No!” She threw off her blanket and leaped up like a lunatic, pointing a trembling finger at the cooler in my arms, screaming hysterically. “That’s a bomb timer, isn’t it?! That’s why you lied about his mom dying! That’s why you were acting so desperate to smuggle this box onto the plane!” “No! I won’t let you do this! Everyone, run!” She lunged at me. Her sudden shriek instantly jolted the dozing passengers awake. Seraphina pinned me down, sobbing uncontrollably as she made her dramatic accusation to the crowd. “I get it! You’re jealous because Oliver has been looking after me during this trip! You think he still loves me! You let your jealousy turn into hatred, and now you want to blow up the plane and take everyone down with you!” She wept beautifully, looking like a tragic saint willing to sacrifice herself for humanity. “But Gemma, these passengers are innocent! If you hate me, I’ll beg the captain to open the cabin door right now! I’ll jump! I’ll give my life to save everyone else, just please spare Oliver and these innocent people!” Terrified out of their wits by her theatrical performance, the passengers panicked. They scrambled away from us, screaming for the flight crew. “Jesus! A bomb?! Where is security?!” “Search her box! Don’t let her touch anything!” And Oliver, the absolute moron, was moved to tears by Seraphina’s selflessness. He threw his arms around her to protect her, staring at me in sheer disbelief. “You actually put a bomb in that box just to get back at us?! Are you insane?! Even if you hate Seraphina, how could you risk the lives of an entire flight? You are a monster!” I held onto the cooler tightly. “Are you out of your mind? You know exactly what’s in here! It’s your mother’s targeted medication! It must be kept under sterile, temperature-controlled conditions. If we break the seal and expose it to cabin air, the formula will be ruined!” “Stop lying!” Oliver bellowed. “It’s just a quick look! How could looking at it ruin the medicine? The more you hide it, the guiltier you look! Did you swap the medicine for a bomb when we weren’t looking?!” Faced with a cabin full of hostile, screaming passengers, I calmly pulled a thick folder of documents from my bag and handed it to the lead flight attendant. “These are the purchase certificates from the lab in Boston, along with the customs clearance and medical transport permits for both countries. You can verify them. Security would never have cleared a bomb.” The flight attendant carefully inspected the paperwork, letting out a massive sigh of relief. She turned to reassure the passengers. “Please calm down, everyone. This passenger’s documentation is entirely legitimate. The noise was just the standard cooling cycle of her medical equipment.” As the tension dissolved, the passengers’ fear quickly curdled into disgust. They glared at Seraphina. “What is wrong with her? Making up a whole conspiracy theory out of nowhere!” “Nearly gave me a heart attack. What a psycho.” Seraphina panicked as the crowd turned on her. She shrank into Oliver’s arms, whimpering, “Oliver, I was only trying to protect everyone. I would never let anyone harm a single soul. Not even Gemma…” Oliver turned his wrath on me. “Gemma, look what you’ve done! Are you happy now that everyone is ganging up on Seraphina?! If you had just shown the paperwork earlier, none of this would have happened!” Just as the flight attendant was about to ask Seraphina to return to her seat, Seraphina suddenly covered her ears and let out an even louder, more blood-curdling shriek. “No! I heard it again! The beep! The bomb is about to go off!!!” 4 “Help! Someone help!” Right on the heels of Seraphina’s piercing scream, a frantic cry for help erupted from a few rows back. An elderly man, who had already looked pale, had been frightened into cardiac arrest by Seraphina’s screaming. He was convulsing, clutching his chest, and collapsing into the aisle. “My dad has a heart condition! Is there a doctor?!” the man’s son sobbed in sheer terror. The cabin descended into utter chaos. The crew frantically made an emergency announcement asking for any medical professionals on board, but not a single doctor or nurse was on the flight. Seraphina looked at the dying man, then felt the murderous glares of the surrounding passengers. Her eyes darted around, and she suddenly pointed a finger at the thermal cooler in my lap, shrieking at the top of her lungs. “Gemma! Since you claim it’s not a bomb but a miracle drug, save him! Use it on the old man!” “If this medicine can save Oliver’s mother, it can save him too! A life is at stake, open the box and give it to him!” I was nearly laughing at her brainless logic. “Seraphina, this is a targeted therapy drug specifically designed for organ failure, not a magical potion! He is having an acute myocardial infarction. The pharmacology is completely different. If you inject him with targeted stem-cell therapy, you’ll kill him even faster!” But Seraphina wouldn’t back down. She dropped to her knees in the aisle, unleashing her favorite weapon: moral extortion. “You’re just selfish! You don’t want to save him, or maybe you’re just terrified of opening that box! If there isn’t a bomb inside, why are you so desperate to keep it closed?!” “You would rather watch an old man die right in front of us than lend a hand! How can you be so cruel? If it were my medicine, I would have given it up in a heartbeat!” I ignored the lunatic and turned to Oliver, my eyes colder than ice. “Oliver, do you really want me to open this box? I am warning you one last time. The moment we break this seal, the drug is completely ruined. This is your mother’s life we are talking about.” Before Oliver could speak, Seraphina leaned weakly against his shoulder, whimpering softly. “Oliver… Gemma is so cruel… Just to protect her petty pride, she’d rather watch this poor man die and use your mother’s name to threaten you…” Slap! A sharp, stinging blow struck my cheek. My head jerked to the side, my skin burning with sudden pain. Oliver retracted his hand, pointing a trembling finger at my face as he yelled. “Gemma, I’ve had enough of you! The entire trip, it’s always ‘your mother this’ and ‘your mother that’! You’ve done nothing but curse my mom! I know you don’t give a damn about her. You’re just using her condition to make things difficult for Seraphina!” He pulled Seraphina protectively against his chest, puffing his own out with self-righteous anger. “Seraphina literally quit her job and fasted to pray for my mother’s health. She even flew out to Boston with me! What did you do? You just stood there acting smug and holding this stupid box!” Seraphina shed a tear, pressing her hands together like a devout saint. “Oliver, saving a life brings good karma. It’s a blessing for your mother. If she knew we saved this man, God would surely look down on her with mercy.” “Did you hear that?!” Brainwashed to the core, Oliver roared at me. “Open the damn box and save him! If anything happens, I’ll take the blame!” I touched my swollen cheek, and a cold, dark smile spread across my face. Years ago, when my mother-in-law had forced them to divorce, she had held my hand and told me that Seraphina’s toxic martyrdom would eventually destroy their entire family. How prophetic those words were. “Fine. Remember, you asked for this.” I’m sorry, Mom, I thought. No matter how much I wanted to save you, your own son wouldn’t let me. I handed the sealed thermal cooler to the hovering flight attendant. “Miss, since the family of the patient is demanding it, please open the box in front of everyone.” Desperate to defuse the cabin panic and check for any threat, the flight attendant quickly grabbed a pair of shears. A sharp click echoed through the quiet cabin. The sterile seal of the cooler was broken. The passengers held their breath. The old man’s son leaned forward, eyes wide with desperate hope. Oliver eagerly reached out his hand, eyes fixed on the opening lid. “Quick, give me the medicine…” But his voice died in his throat. His hand froze mid-air. The entire cabin stared into the box, and a collective gasp of horror rippled through the passengers. Oliver slowly turned to me, his eyes bloodshot, and let out a wild, frenzied scream. “Gemma!!! What the hell is this?! Where is my mother’s medicine?!”

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My girlfriend’s stamina was absolutely terrifying. For the eight years we had been together, my body had been pushed to the absolute breaking point. So, when I found out her golden boy, her elusive first love, was finally returning from overseas, my eyes literally welled up with tears of sheer relief. Dawn had finally broken. My initial plan was to pack a bag and vanish into the night. But thinking back on how good Stella had been to me over these past eight years, I decided she deserved one last home-cooked meal. “Babe, what are you craving for dinner?” Her voice came through the phone speaker, crisp and icy. “Fish.” A shiver ran down my spine. “Honey, how about we switch up the menu…” Before I could even finish my sentence, the line went dead. She was a tyrant. I gritted my teeth. Fine, let’s go all out. It was my last night anyway. I refused to believe I couldn’t handle her one last time. During dinner, Stella pulled a pristine napkin from her lap. Slowly, methodically, she picked the tiny bones from her fish and lined them up on the white fabric. One bone. Two bones. She didn’t stop until she placed the seventh bone. 1 Night fell. I was gasping for air, my eyelids heavy as lead. Stella was in an even deeper state of bliss, completely boneless and melting against my chest. Her usual cold, distant demeanor had completely evaporated. The corners of her eyes and the curve of her brows held a lingering, intoxicating warmth. Looking at the stunning woman curled up in my arms, my body betrayed me and reacted again. Sensing the shift, Stella scrambled out of my embrace, her breath hitching. After a long moment of silence, she asked softly, “Noah, is something on your mind?” I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I was so caught up in the afterglow that I completely forgot my exit strategy. Taking advantage of her rare good mood, I tested the waters. “Sweetheart, I heard Sebastian is back from Europe.” Stella furrowed her perfect brows. “What does his return have to do with you?” How could it not? That was the man she had been pining over for a decade. I tried to reason with her. “Look, babe, I know you never truly got over him. Now that he’s back, I’m willing to step aside. I want you to be happy.” “If I can’t give you the fairy tale, I’m giving you your freedom.” The more I spoke, the more worked up I got. I was practically bringing myself to tears with my own nobility. But Stella’s face turned entirely to ice. A terrifying, inexplicable chill settled in her eyes. I knew that look. It was the calm before the hurricane. I wisely shut my mouth. After what felt like an eternity, she let out a heavy sigh, turned her back to me, and pulled the covers up. “Noah, never say anything like that to me again.” Seeing her act so utterly put out made my blood boil. Who was she kidding? Everyone knew she was still hung up on Sebastian. I was literally serving her freedom on a silver platter, and she had the nerve to act annoyed. Fine. If she wouldn’t listen to reason, she couldn’t blame me for ghosting. With my mind made up, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from her. Exhaustion quickly took over, pulling me into a heavy, dreamless sleep. When I opened my eyes, sunlight was pouring into the bedroom. The space beside me was empty. Stella was fiercely disciplined and ruthlessly ambitious. You didn’t become the Vice President of a publicly traded tech firm just eight years out of college by sleeping in. I was her polar opposite. I took life as it came. After graduation, I floated around the tech sector. Now, pushing thirty, I was just a mid-level department manager. I dragged myself out of bed, called my boss to burn a sick day, and immediately headed out to meet a real estate agent. I had picked out a new apartment the exact day I heard Sebastian was coming back. The place was perfect. Utilities were set up, the Wi-Fi was blazing fast, the furniture was brand new, and most importantly, it was incredibly close to my office. I didn’t even try to haggle. I signed the lease right there on the kitchen counter. When the agent heard I wanted to move in today, he eagerly hooked me up with a moving crew. I didn’t own much. My work laptop, some clothes, and a few boxes of books. By noon, my side of the closet was wiped clean. Walking out of the building, I glanced back at the luxury condo we had shared for the last eight years. A bitter ache twisted in my chest. Even when Stella started making serious money, we never upgraded. To me, this place was home. But for the sake of my own survival, I had to cut the cord. The destructive power of a girl’s first true love was legendary. If I lingered even a second too long, I’d be caught in the blast radius. 2 By the time the sun set, my new place was spotless. Looking around the quiet, brightly lit living room, the tight knot in my chest finally began to loosen. Just as I was admiring my handiwork, my phone absolutely blew up. Our high school WhatsApp group, which was usually a ghost town, was blowing up with notifications. Chase, our old class president, had sparked the chaos. “Alright people! To welcome Sebastian back to the States, drinks and dinner are on me tomorrow night at eight. Private lounge at the Plaza Hotel. I want to see everyone there!” Chase was Sebastian’s ultimate wingman back in the day, so him hosting a welcome back bash was fully expected. The chat went wild. People were hyping Chase up and flooding the chat with emojis for Sebastian. Then, Sebastian himself chimed in. “Thanks for remembering me, guys. I really hope to see all of your faces tomorrow.” Immediately after, he dropped a massive digital gift card into the chat for everyone to claim. The group completely lost its mind, calling him a boss and a legend. I watched the screen in dead silence. I didn’t type a word. I didn’t click the link. Hailey, a girl who used to share a desk with Sebastian, suddenly derailed the hype train. “Why is Stella so quiet? Is she not in the group anymore? Is she coming tomorrow?” The chat went completely dead. Back in high school, Sebastian and Stella were the undisputed golden couple. He was the handsome star athlete, she was the untouchable ice queen, and they permanently locked down the top two spots in our class rankings. Even the strictest teachers looked the other way when they held hands in the hallways. Back then, Stella was the picture of a devoted girlfriend. To any other guy, she was a brick wall. But for Sebastian, she was soft, sweet, and entirely attentive. When he played basketball, she stood on the sidelines holding his water bottle. When they ate in the cafeteria, she would quietly move the best pieces of meat from her tray onto his. Every guy in our class watched them with a toxic mix of jealousy and despair. But things fell apart after graduation. Sebastian chose to attend a prestigious university in the UK. They had a massive, explosive fight about it. Stella begged him to stay. Sebastian was dead set on leaving, demanding she come with him. But Stella came from a working-class family. There was absolutely no way she could afford international tuition. They shattered completely. When college started, Stella fell into a dark, suffocating depression. As her former classmate and long-time admirer, I saw my window. She was in a new city, reeling from a brutal heartbreak, and entirely vulnerable. I didn’t hesitate. I stepped right into the void. During winter break of our freshman year, after a party and far too many drinks, the line between us blurred. I’ll freely admit I wasn’t some noble knight. I acted purely out of raw, desperate infatuation. I didn’t let myself think about the consequences. But the next morning, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes and realizing she had given me a part of herself she had never shared with Sebastian, I froze. At that exact moment, I knew I was in way over my head. I was completely hers. Once we made it official, I gave her everything I had. But Stella always kept me at an arm’s length. I understood why. I was the rebound. I was the guy who kept the loneliness at bay when she was bleeding out. I couldn’t blame her for that. I still poured my heart into her. I was young and foolish enough to believe that if I just loved her hard enough, eventually she would see my worth. So, when she asked me not to post pictures of us on Instagram, I kept my feed empty. When she told me to stay home from her corporate promotion dinners, I stayed home. For eight years, I swallowed my pride. I accepted that she was cold to the world and lukewarm to me. That was just who she was. But there were nights when I would wake up to an empty bed. I would find her standing on the balcony, her eyes lost in the city lights, carrying a melancholy that I could never touch. I knew exactly who she was looking for. 3 The buzzing of my phone yanked me back to reality. The group chat was completely off the rails now. “Stella will definitely be there. Has anyone even heard of her dating anyone since high school?” “Exactly. She’s been waiting for our boy Sebastian.” “So, Mr. Wall Street, are you planning on winning a certain someone back?” Sebastian replied with a single smiley face emoji. He said absolutely nothing, but that emoji screamed volumes. I had already made peace with walking away. But reading those messages still felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting in my gut. I let out a bitter laugh. Sebastian was clearly treating her like a prize he had already won back. My phone vibrated in my hand. It was Stella. I answered, and her clipped, professional voice filled my ear. “Noah, I’m stuck at the office. Don’t wait up for dinner. Bye.” She hadn’t even been home. She had no idea my closet was empty. Before she could hang up, I cut in. “Wait. Don’t hang up.” “Stella, have you looked at the high school group chat today?” Her tone was completely flat. “No. I don’t have time for that.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Tomorrow night, they’re throwing a massive welcome home party for Sebastian. Are you going?” The silence on the other end stretched on for so long that I thought the call dropped. Finally, her voice came through, colder than liquid nitrogen. “No. Why, do you want to go?” What kind of trap was that? If she wasn’t going, was I banned from attending? Besides, how was I supposed to know if she was lying just to sneak off and see him? “Yeah, I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?” I shot back. “Besides, if we both pull a no-show, certain people might get the wrong idea. That wouldn’t be a good look.” Stella caught the hidden venom in my words. Her voice dropped an octave. “Noah, cut the passive-aggressive act. You’ve called me by my first name three times today. I don’t like it.” Click. She hung up. I scoffed at the screen. You don’t like it? Well, I don’t like a lot of things. For eight years, I called her sweetheart, baby, honey. She exclusively used my first name. The only time she ever called me her man was when we were tangled in the sheets. I gave up eight years of my life chasing a title she was never going to give me in the daylight. The fantasy was over. I was done bleeding myself dry for a lost cause. I opened the chat one last time. People were literally taking bets on what their romantic reunion was going to look like. Disgusted, I tossed my phone onto the sofa. A heavy, suffocating pain spread through my chest. Walking away was the right move, but it didn’t mean I had magically stopped loving her. I loved her desperately. But after eight years of talking to a wall, even the deepest love runs out of oxygen. Staying any longer would just be pathetic. That night, I was deep in a dreamless sleep when my phone shattered the silence. I blindly swiped to answer. Stella’s voice poured out of the speaker, so cold it could freeze whiskey. “Noah. Where the hell are you?” I jolted awake, my heart slamming against my ribs. “S-Stella. I moved out.” The words felt clumsy and guilty on my tongue, even though I had nothing to be guilty about. I could literally hear her teeth grinding together. “Give me one good reason.” Did I really need to spell it out? Your golden boy is back in town ready to sweep you off your feet. I was just clearing the stage. “I don’t need a reason. I’m just not in love with you anymore. We’re done.” Dead silence. I didn’t say another word. We just stayed on the line, listening to each other’s ragged breathing through the dark. After a long time, the edge finally left her voice, leaving something soft and broken behind. “Noah, I knew something was wrong with you these past few days. But you wouldn’t talk to me.” “We’ve been together for eight years. We might not have the paperwork, but we’re basically married. If you’re going through something, tell me. We can fix it together.” I let out a harsh, cynical laugh. Fix it? How do you fix a ghost from the past? “Save the fake sympathy, Stella. I’m not going through anything. I just don’t want you anymore. It’s over.” Before she could form a response, I pulled the phone away and ended the call. Just before the screen went black, I swore I heard a sharp, trembling sob. Nonsense. Stella crying over me? Impossible. I was just hearing things. 4 I woke up the next morning, stretched, and felt surprisingly incredible. Living alone actually had its perks. I didn’t have to worry about draining my life force just to keep Stella satisfied. I grabbed a coffee and a breakfast sandwich downstairs and started plotting out my Saturday. I had the whole day to myself, and I was absolutely going to that reunion tonight. I needed to see with my own eyes if the woman who swore she wasn’t going would miraculously show up. After breakfast, I hit an upscale barbershop for a clean, sharp fade. Looking in the mirror, I had to admit, the raw material wasn’t bad. I was just horribly packaged. Plaid shirts, faded jeans, and hiking boots. No wonder Stella treated me like a dirty secret. Honestly, I couldn’t even fully blame her. I walked straight to Nordstrom and dropped some serious cash on a tailored navy suit. I even let the sales associate talk me into some skincare products. When I looked in the dressing room mirror, I gave myself a slow nod of approval. Money really does buy confidence. At exactly six o’clock, I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the Plaza Hotel’s VIP lounge. Most of the class was already there, drinks in hand, buzzing with nostalgia. Right in the epicenter of the room stood a man in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, soaking up the adoration like a sponge. “Sebastian, man, I heard you started your own private equity fund. You guys must have all the insider tech, right?” Sebastian offered a smooth, mysterious smile, playing the enigmatic billionaire perfectly. When he didn’t give up the goods, people pressed harder. “Come on, Seb. We’re family here. If you’ve got the golden ticket, you can’t keep it all to yourself.” Chase, the class president, threw an arm around Sebastian’s shoulder and laughed loudly. “Relax, guys! You know our boy isn’t like that. When he makes a move, he’ll take care of us.” The crowd visibly relaxed, practically lining up to kiss the rings of both Sebastian and Chase. Chase caught my eye from across the room and raised his whiskey glass. “Noah! You made it!” I wasn’t exactly a star player in high school, so I was surprised he remembered my name. Sebastian followed Chase’s gaze and gave me a polite, measured nod. But there was something sharp and highly amused in his eyes. I walked over and bumped fists with Chase. He was a trust-fund kid, loud and a little obnoxious, but he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. Then I looked at Sebastian. Eight years in Europe had done him well. He was sharper, wealthier, and radiating an effortless alpha energy. Even in my new suit, I felt a little outgunned. Sebastian swirled the ice in his glass. “Noah. I remember you went to the same university as Stella.” I nodded, waiting for the hook. He asked casually, flawlessly nonchalant. “Do you guys still keep in touch?” Before I could even open my mouth, Hailey, his former desk-mate and ultimate fangirl, let out a loud scoff. “Please. Stella’s standards are way too high. Why would she keep in touch with him? I don’t think they exchanged two words our entire senior year.” A ripple of laughter echoed through the group. I just shrugged. I had already dumped her. Let them think whatever they wanted. It wasn’t like I had ever planned on using her name for street cred anyway. Chase frowned at the laughing crowd. “Shut up, guys. None of you talked to her either.” That shut the guys up real quick. It was true. Aside from Sebastian, Stella treated the male population like they were invisible. Hailey noticed Sebastian constantly checking his Rolex and glancing at the door. She bumped his shoulder playfully. “Seb, your heart is literally hovering by the entrance.” Sebastian offered a modest, handsome smile. “If you’re that anxious, just call her,” Hailey pushed. “We might not have her number, but there’s no way you don’t.” Sebastian neatly dodged the question. “Whether she comes or not is entirely up to her. I wouldn’t want to pressure her into changing her mind just because I called.” Hailey looked at him like he was a god. “You are such a gentleman.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. The guy was putting on a masterclass in manipulation. He knew exactly what he was doing. If he called her, she would drop everything and run here. Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the banquet hall slowly swung open. Stella stood in the doorway, framed by the hallway lights. She was still wearing her sleek, tailored executive blazer and skirt. The room gasped. The boys practically scrambled over each other to form a welcoming committee. I took a sip of my drink, a bitter smirk on my face. She swore she wasn’t coming, yet here she was, making the grand, dramatic entrance. Was this the only way to ensure every eye in the room was on her? But damn, a first love’s gravity was terrifying. A blind man could see exactly who she had rushed here for. Sebastian stepped through the crowd, parting them like the Red Sea. His eyes were liquid velvet. “Stella. You made it.” Stella looked like murder. Her aura was so dark and heavy it could crush coal into diamonds. She completely ignored Sebastian. Her eyes frantically scanned the room, hunting for something. Sebastian’s polite smile faltered slightly. “Stella? Are your eyes swollen? Have you not been sleeping?” Hearing that, I looked up from the shadows near the bar. He was right. Her beautiful, striking eyes were red and puffy. I scoffed internally. Was seeing Sebastian again really that overwhelming? She actually cried over him? Stella acted like Sebastian hadn’t even spoken. Her desperate gaze snapped onto me, locking on like a laser. 5 The entire room watched in absolute, breathless silence. Stella walked straight past Sebastian and stopped right in front of me. Then, the ice queen shattered. A dazzling, breathtaking smile bloomed on her face, making the entire room feel like a summer morning. She reached out her delicate hands and grabbed my collar. “Honey,” she whispered, her voice like warm honey, “that’s not how you tie a half-Windsor.” With practiced, intimate movements, she undid my messy knot and expertly retied it. I stood there holding my scotch, utterly paralyzed. Who was this woman? Eight years. Eight miserable years, and she had never once called me anything affectionate in public. And now, standing three feet away from the love of her life, she was adjusting my tie and calling me honey? Was she actively trying to get me murdered? I opened my mouth to stop the madness, but Stella was putting on the performance of a lifetime. She smoothly looped her arm through mine, pressing against my side. She looked out at the sea of shocked faces, her smile radiant.

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1 I went to a private school with my junior colleague Luke to configure their network. My bladder was bursting, so I used the first-floor restroom. On payday, instead of my twenty-five-thousand-dollar commission, I received a ten-thousand-dollar fine. Our newly appointed manager, Marcus, pointed his finger right at my nose, screaming. “Luke told me everything! You using the client’s restroom is just taking advantage of them. It completely ruins our reputation as a premium network service company!” “Using a client’s resources carries a fine of one thousand dollars a minute! You were in there for ten minutes, so that’s a ten-thousand-dollar penalty, and all your commissions are confiscated. Be grateful I’m letting you keep your job because of your seniority!” “We are in the service industry! If you can’t even hold your pee, why are you even working in the field?” These major clients were accounts I had built from the ground up over the past seven years. Every annual renewal was handled personally by me. Now, they were using them as leverage to rob me of my income. Seeing the cold glare in my eyes, Marcus slammed a document onto the desk. “Don’t like it? Then pack your bags and get out! But don’t forget, the service contracts for your accounts specifically name you as the designated technician. If you walk out, not only will we sue you for breach of contract alongside the clients, but we’ll also have you blacklisted from the entire industry!” Looking at his arrogant, sneering face, I let out a cold chuckle. I didn’t argue. But three days later, when those major service contracts were up for renewal, he was the one who panicked. “Don’t look at Marcus like that, Owen,” Luke said, poking his head out from behind Marcus. He put on a perfectly innocent face. “I only reported it because I care about the company. You were in that school restroom for ten whole minutes. The teachers outside were giving us some really weird looks. We’re there to fix their internet, not use their facilities.” I stared at the apprentice I had personally trained. Just last month, when he broke a highly expensive fiber tester in the server room, I was the one who paid out of my own pocket to cover for him. Now, to suck up to the newly appointed manager, he threw me under the bus without a second thought. Marcus crossed his arms, looking down his nose at me. “Hear that? Even the rookie has more professional awareness than you! Owen, you’ve been with this company for seven years, and this is what you’ve degenerated into? Confiscating your twenty-five-thousand-dollar commission and slapping you with a ten-thousand-dollar fine is a mercy. If it were up to me, I’d have fired you on the spot.” The office was dead silent. A dozen or so colleagues sat at their desks, ears perked, soaking in every word. I gripped the paper fine in my hand. “Marcus, the school’s facilities director explicitly told me we were welcome to use the first-floor restroom. How is that taking advantage of a client?” Marcus slammed his hand on the desk. “They were just being polite, and you took them literally? Do you have any concept of professional boundaries? You used their water, you used their paper. Is that not a resource drain? You were freeloading off our client!” The sheer absurdity of his logic made me laugh out loud. Luke quickly chimed in. “Owen, just apologize. Marcus is only trying to enforce proper discipline. We all know you’re getting older and your bladder isn’t what it used to be, but you can’t let your personal health issues ruin the company’s professional image.” A few colleagues who loved playing politics snickered behind their hands. “Seriously, using a client’s bathroom? That’s pretty trashy.” “Seniority doesn’t give you a free pass to behave like a slob.” I looked at their indifferent, mocking faces. Over the past seven years, I had pulled countless all-nighters to fix their mistakes and save their projects. Now, they were the first to throw stones. Marcus, seeing my silence, assumed I was intimidated. He raised his chin triumphantly. “Owen, since you recognize your mistake, you will write a formal apology and pin it to the company-wide chat. Also, starting today, your field transit reimbursements are canceled. That money will go toward compensating for the reputational damage you’ve caused.” Luke picked up the thermos from Marcus’s desk and handed it to him with a groveling smile. “Drink some warm water, boss. I’m sure Owen will reflect on his actions. He’s got a family to support, so he knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.” I watched their little performance in silence. Arguing with fools was a waste of breath. I folded the fine and slipped it into my pocket. “Fine. Deduct the money. And I won’t file for travel reimbursements.” Marcus blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected the most headstrong engineer in the department to capitulate so easily. He let out a cold snort. “Smart move. Get that apology into the chat before the end of the day. A hundred-dollar penalty for every hour it’s late.” I didn’t bother replying. I turned and walked straight back to my desk. Behind me, Luke called out in a mocking, singsong voice, “Owen, if you need help writing that apology, there are plenty of templates online. Just don’t embarrass our department with bad grammar.” 2 My computer screen lit up, and the messaging icon in the bottom right corner began to blink. It was a message from Preston, the CEO of Aegis Networks, our primary competitor. “Owen, have you given any thought to my offer? If you join us, I’ll double your base salary and put you on our highest commission tier.” Looking at the message, a cold smile played on my lips. Aegis was a rapidly growing firm in the city, and they had been trying to recruit me for over a year. Out of loyalty to my current employer, I had always politely declined. “Mr. Preston, I’ll report to your office in three days.” A handshake emoji popped up instantly. “Fantastic! I’ll have HR draft your contract right away.” Locking my phone, I felt an incredible weight lift off my chest. For seven years, I had worked myself to the bone. To hit our department targets, I had lived in freezing server rooms even when I was running a high fever. But now, since Marcus wanted to play by these ridiculous rules, I would show him how well I could follow them. At three in the afternoon, Luke ran over to my desk, drenched in sweat and looking panicked. “Owen, the network at the Southside Plaza is completely down. I’ve been troubleshooting for hours and can’t figure it out. The client is losing his mind. You need to come with me right now.” I leaned back in my chair, not even bothering to look at him. “No.” Luke froze. “Owen, stop throwing a tantrum. This is a massive account, and the owner has a terrible temper. If he files a formal complaint with Marcus, we’re both screwed.” I picked up my mug, gently blowing on the steaming tea. “Marcus canceled my travel reimbursements this morning. He also made it clear that my aging bladder makes me unfit for field work. I think a demanding, high-profile task like this is best left to a capable young man like yourself.” Luke stomped his foot in frustration. “Owen! How can you be so petty? We’re a team. You can’t just leave me hanging!” I set my tea down, my eyes calm. “Go ask Marcus. If he signs a formal emergency dispatch order, I’ll leave immediately.” Luke grit his teeth and ran toward the manager’s office. Two minutes later, he trudged back, looking utterly defeated. Marcus didn’t know the first thing about network engineering; his only solution was telling Luke to figure it out himself. At exactly six, the moment the clock struck end-of-day, I saved my files, shut down my computer, and picked up my backpack. My colleagues stared at me in disbelief. Normally, I was the last one to leave the office. Luke, still pulling his hair out in front of his monitor, called out frantically, “Owen! You can’t leave! The Southside server room is still dead!” I didn’t turn around. “My shift is over. See you tomorrow.” Walking out of the office building, the evening breeze felt incredibly refreshing. At eight-thirty that night, I was sitting on my sofa, enjoying an old movie, when my phone began to buzz violently. The department group chat was blowing up with messages from Luke. “@Owen, please pick up your phone! The Southside system is totally paralyzed! The entire commercial street has no internet! The client says if we don’t fix it tonight, they’re terminating the contract and demanding a full refund!” Right after, Marcus’s name flashed on my screen. I put the phone on silent, letting it ring out three times before I finally answered. The moment I pressed accept, Marcus’s furious roar blasted through the speaker. “Owen! Get your ass down to the Southside server room right now! For every minute you’re late, I’m docking a week’s pay!” I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear. “Is there a problem, Marcus?” 3 “Don’t play dumb with me!” Marcus screamed over the line. “The client is ready to smash our equipment! Grab a cab and get down there now!” I swallowed a bite of my dinner, chewing slowly before replying. “Marcus, it is currently 8:35 PM. That falls well within my personal, off-the-clock hours. Furthermore, you personally stripped me of my field privileges this morning. Have you forgotten?” “I am your manager, and you will do as you’re told!” he shrieked. “I am ordering you to go! This is an emergency work requirement!” I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “According to Section 3, Article 5 of the employee handbook, any non-emergency overtime after hours must be approved in writing by a department head, guaranteeing time-and-a-half pay. Where is my digital approval slip?” The line went dead quiet. It took him several seconds to find his voice, his teeth practically grinding together. “Fine, Owen. You think you’re clever, don’t you? Just wait until tomorrow.” He slammed the phone down. The next morning, I clocked in right on time. The atmosphere in the office was suffocatingly tense. Luke was slumped over his desk with deep dark circles under his eyes, looking half-dead after pulling an all-nighter at Southside. Marcus stormed out of his office with a thick stack of papers, his face dark. “Everyone, conference room. Morning meeting, now!” He threw the documents onto the table with a loud slam. “Some people in this department think that just because they have seniority and a bit of technical know-how, they are above the team! Our clients lose money, and they’re snoring away at home! Starting today, we have a new policy: everyone must keep their phones active after hours. If you fail to respond to a call within ten minutes, you’ll be fined five hundred dollars!” My colleagues exchanged uneasy glances, but under his oppressive gaze, no one dared to speak up. Satisfied with the silence, Marcus cleared his throat. “Additionally, I’d like to introduce a new member of our team.” He turned to the door, and a young man with bleached yellow hair and expensive streetwear sauntered in. He cast a dismissive, arrogant glance over the room. The scowl on Marcus’s face instantly dissolved into a sycophantic grin. “This is our new Project Manager, Thomas. Thomas is young, but he has a brilliant mind and comes to us from a top-tier corporation. I expect everyone to fully cooperate with him.” Someone whispered in the back, “Thomas? Isn’t that Marcus’s nephew?” Marcus shot a lethal glare in that direction, then turned his gaze slowly to me. “Owen. Your accounts that are up for renewal, especially Apex Enterprises, are being reassigned to Thomas starting today. For the next few days, you don’t need to do any actual field work. Just shadow Thomas and teach him how to manage these high-profile clients.” I saw right through it. Apex Enterprises was a multi-million-dollar account. Signing their renewal would net a massive commission, easily reaching six figures. Marcus wanted to steal my hard work and hand the glory directly to his nephew. Thomas walked over to my desk, looking me up and down. “Let me see the renewal proposal you drafted for Apex.” I opened my laptop and pulled up the document I had prepared weeks ago. Thomas stared at the screen for less than a minute before scoffing. “What is this garbage? You honestly expect to present this outdated junk to Mr. Caldwell at the bidding conference?” 4 Luke scrambled over, eagerly placing a cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of Thomas. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Thomas. Owen’s getting older, and his thinking is completely rigid. He relies entirely on outdated methods. These days, winning clients is all about synergy, ecosystem matrices, and underlying paradigms. His proposal is practically prehistoric. If you ask me, we should approach it like this…” I watched Luke spin a web of meaningless corporate buzzwords. Stepping back, I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Since you find my proposal so lacking, Thomas, I’ll happily step back and let you take full charge of the negotiations. My old-school brain clearly can’t keep up with your modern pace. To ensure I don’t hold the company back, I’m washing my hands of the Apex project.” Thomas smirked, raising an eyebrow. “At least you know your place. Without you dragging us down, I’ll close this deal with my eyes shut.” “Thomas is a true leader,” Luke gushed. “Incredibly decisive.” For the next couple of days, I clocked in and out exactly on time. While Thomas and Luke locked themselves in the conference room trying to construct their absurd “ecosystem matrix,” the office fell into complete disarray. Finally, the last day of our current service contract arrived. I pulled out a cardboard box and began packing my personal belongings. My colleagues whispered and watched me out of the corners of their eyes. Marcus stepped out of his office, letting out a mocking sneer at the sight. “Well, well, Owen. What’s all this? Throwing a tantrum and packing your bags to gain sympathy?” He walked over, tapping his knuckles against my desk. “Let me tell you, your little guilt trips won’t work on me.” I carefully placed my small desk succulent into the box and brushed the dust off my hands. “Actually, Marcus, since our service contracts are officially up today, I’ve decided to resign. Best of luck with everything.” I picked up my box and walked out. Behind me, the glass doors slid shut, cutting off Marcus’s frantic, angry shouting. The following morning at nine, I stood in the sleek lobby of Aegis Networks, dressed in a sharp suit. Preston was waiting at the entrance alongside his entire executive team. “Welcome aboard, Director Owen,” Preston said, shaking my hand warmly. By two in the afternoon, I was sitting in the main conference room of Apex Enterprises. The air conditioning was running high, keeping the room icy cool. As the representative of Aegis Networks, I had arrived early, sitting quietly at the far, dimly lit corner of the long table, adjusting data on my tablet. When Thomas and Luke swaggered into the room with their team, they didn’t even notice me. I watched them take their seats opposite me. While sorting through his papers, Luke happened to glance across the table. The moment he saw my face, his entire body froze, and the pen in his hand slipped, clattering onto the desk. He frantically nudged Thomas. Within seconds, both of them were squirming in their seats, their faces turning a visible shade of pale. Just then, the conference room doors swung open again. Marcus strode in, finishing up a phone call and taking his place at the head of their team, ready to dominate the presentation. But as soon as he sat down, he noticed the terrified expressions on his team’s faces. Following Luke’s trembling gaze, his eyes locked onto mine. Marcus stared, not even registering the Aegis Networks nameplate sitting in front of me. His face contorted with rage. He slammed his hand onto the table, pointing a finger directly at my face in front of everyone in the room. “Owen?! Are you out of your mind?” he shrieked. “You’re a fired piece of trash! How dare you sneak into an Apex boardroom? Have you no shame? Get the hell out of here right now!”

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My boyfriend keeps choosing his bitch intern over me. So I cut his place in my future. I stand next to the self-check-in kiosk in Boston South Station and tell my boyfriend, Gavin, we’re done. “Because your seat isn’t next to mine?” He laughs. “Yes.” He’s still laughing. He pulls out his phone and taps record. “Fine. You said it. Don’t take it back.” We’ve known each other since we were seven. Together since eighteen. He thinks I can’t leave him. He doesn’t know this train ticket is just an excuse. I refunded the one he booked for me. I changed my destination. This time, I’m out. In a few hours, we’ll be in two different cities, living two completely different lives. … Gavin holds the phone in front of my face. The recording bar is still moving. I don’t change my expression. “May 23, 2026. Day 2,591. Aria Bennett and Gavin Hayes are broken up.” He freezes for a second. Then shakes his head, almost amused. “Okay. How long is it this time? Three days? Four?” He scrolls back through his phone and taps another recording. “Gavin… I miss you so much… I take it back, please don’t break up with me…” My own voice spills out — drunk, crying, loud enough that people nearby turn to look. “This one’s from three months ago,” he says, smiling. He keeps scrolling. I push the phone away from his face. “I mean it this time.” He looks up. The smile fades. “Just for a seat.” His voice drops. “Really, Aria?” Yes. Really. …… A group of us planned this Cape Cod trip for this weekend. Gavin’s intern, Lily Sutton, insists on tagging along. So he refunded everyone’s original tickets and rebooked the entire group on Amtrak Acela. He and the rest are all in Car 2. I’m in Car 10. Alone. The seat next to him? Saved for Lily. And just to make sure I saw it — he posted the screenshot on Instagram. Who’d drop everything to travel with you on a whim? Two seat numbers, side by side. Like two needles in my chest. …… “Aria, don’t be like this.” He sighs. “I missed you the first time I booked. By the time I noticed, Car 10 was all that was left.” “It’s four hours. You don’t need to be jealous.” He says it like I’m overreacting. Like I’m the unreasonable one. I take a breath. “You don’t get it. I’m not jealous about who sits next to you for four hours.” “Got it, got it.” He cuts in. “Then how about this — I book flights right now, just you and me. Done?” “Gavin! Are you switching to flights? Can I come? I’ve never flown before.” Lily slides up out of nowhere. She hands Gavin an Americano like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then sips her own iced latte through the straw. She notices the tension and adds, sweetly: “Sorry, Aria — I didn’t know what you liked. I’m so used to grabbing his Americano and my latte, I forgot to ask you.” I turn to leave. She grabs my arm. “Aria, please don’t get the wrong idea.” “I’m just an intern. Gavin and I are just friends. My finals are coming up and I’m super stressed. He’s only inviting me out so I can decompress.” “Don’t let stuff like this come between you two.” “Stuff like this?” I laugh, cold. “Asking my boyfriend out to a movie. Alone. That’s stuff like this?” “Sending him photos of you trying on dresses. Stuff like this?” “Forcing yourself onto our trip when no one wants you there. Stuff like this?” “You’re not clueless. You’re just shameless. You know exactly where the line is, and you walk right over it every time.” “You want him so badly? Take him.” Lily’s eyes fill up instantly. She drops her head and bites her lip. “Aria, enough!” Gavin pulls out a tissue and hands it to her. “I get that you’re upset. Take it out on me. Why are you yelling at her?” Her tears roll right on cue. “Gavin… don’t fight. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come.” She turns and walks toward the exit. Gavin sighs and goes after her. The station is loud. Crowded. I can’t breathe. I watch his back disappear into the crowd. Seven years. And I might as well have been no one.

I packed until 5 a.m. last night. My head is splitting. I walk past the Starbucks to grab a coffee and I hear them before I see them — Gavin’s friends, all sitting together near the gate. “Where’s Aria? Why isn’t she with you guys?” “They’re fighting again. She’s threatening to walk out again.” A short laugh. “Before the trip even starts? What is it this time?” “He didn’t save her the seat next to him.” “That’s it?” Someone shrugs. “Honestly, dude. Only you could put up with her.” Gavin pushes his hair back from his forehead. “Yeah, I need a minute. I’ll deal with her once we hit Cape Cod.” Another guy chimes in. “Aria’s only like that because you let her be. You made your bed.” “Honestly? Lily’s a way easier kind of girl. Sweet. Chill. Hey Lily, what’s your type? Could you go for a guy like me?” Lily covers her mouth and laughs. Looks like Gavin already smoothed things over with her. Before she can answer, Gavin kicks the guy’s shin under the table. “Back off.” Then he turns to Lily, softer now. “Stay away from guys like him. He’s burned through more girlfriends than he can count. If he tries to add you on Instagram — don’t accept it.” The whole group erupts. “Damn, Gavin. A little protective?” “You bring her along but won’t let her near any of us? What’s your deal?” “Saving her for yourself?” Lily blushes hard. “Guys, stop. Even if I liked someone like Gavin — he wouldn’t go for me.” Every head turns toward Gavin. He just smiles. Says nothing. Lily laughs at herself. “See? He’s not denying it. So fine, guys — someone set me up, please.” Then Gavin says, slow and easy. “I never said that.” Someone whistles. The whole group cracks up. “Oh — wait. Oh no.” Lily suddenly counts heads on her fingers. Pulls out her phone. Her face changes. “God. I underbooked the rooms.” “I just looked at the headcount when I booked. Four guys, three girls. I only got three rooms…” She scrolls fast. “Everything’s sold out now. What are we gonna do?” She looks up, sees me, and walks straight toward me. “Aria, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” “The hotel next door still has one room. It’s like a thousand dollars more — but Aria, you’re richer than me, right? Could you grab it?” I look at her flatly. “You messed up. Why am I paying for it?” Her face crumples. “Aria… I’m just an intern. I’m not even out of school. I don’t make much…” I cut her off. “You’re the one who insisted on booking everyone’s rooms. Everyone paid you. If you can’t handle it, don’t volunteer for it.” She drops her head and starts crying. “Enough.” Gavin walks over, voice light. “It’s just a room. Just book another one. Aria, you’re not a kid. Relax.” I smile. “Relax while your intern walks all over me?” Lily looks up at Gavin through her tears. “I swear I didn’t mean it.” Gavin lowers his voice and turns to me. “Aria. Lily’s not playing games. You’re being unfair to her.” “I’ll book you a sea-view room. End of discussion. Drop it.” “I’m the one who needs to drop it?” I laugh again. Louder this time. My phone rings suddenly. I turn to walk away and answer it. Gavin grabs my wrist. Hard. “Aria.” His voice is low now. “We got through seven hard years together. And now you’re throwing a fit over a seat?” My skin goes pale where he’s holding me. I yank my arm free. A red mark blooms across my wrist. I stare down at it. I see it clearly. Seven years. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I was his charity case.

I step outside the station and pick up. “Aria, what time do you land at LaGuardia? I’ll come get you.” My best friend Naomi laughs on the other end. “Two in the afternoon.” “You’re actually moving to New York? Gavin’s letting you?” “I broke up with him.” She pauses. “Fine. But — are you really gonna be okay leaving him?” I think about it for two seconds. “Yeah. I am.” I’m serious. When I was seven, I was in a car accident. It wasn’t bad. But it scared me so much I stopped speaking. For three months, I didn’t say a single word. The boys at school made it a game. They tore up my notebooks. Hid my backpack. Pushed me around. Gavin dragged the worst one into the principal’s office himself. He came out with a bloody nose. Wiped it on his sleeve. Grinned at me. “It’s done. Anyone messes with you, they go through me.” I stared at him for a long time. And then I said my first word in three months. “Thank you.” He froze. Then he took off running down the hallway, yelling to everyone he passed. “She talked! She just talked!” After that, we were inseparable. Sixteen years. He was woven into every part of who I was. Until three months ago. Gavin’s firm hired a new intern — Lily Sutton. That’s when everything changed. He changed his lock screen. He swapped it for a landscape shot. From a team retreat at his company. It used to be us on Cape Cod — a wave crashing in, him hoisting me onto his back, me laughing so hard I’m crying. I didn’t ask why. He didn’t explain. Later, Lily kept causing fights, and they kept leading to breakups. Every time we split, I couldn’t sleep. I had to drink myself into bed. Until last month. I was leaving the office at eleven at night. Just as I was about to head home, I heard footsteps behind me. I walked faster. So did they. I called Gavin. Once. Twice. Thirteen times. He didn’t pick up. I panicked. I missed a step on the curb. My ankle rolled, and I hit the pavement hard. My finger must have hit something — because suddenly, the line was ringing. I just realized that my screen had cracked, but the call screen was still open. It connected in under two seconds. The background on his end was dead quiet. I could hear him stand up. “Aria. Don’t hang up. Keep talking to me. Tell me where you are.” I told him what happen to me. “Give me ten minutes.” He was in front of me in nine. His hair was damp at the temples from the run. He crouched down and lifted my ankle into his hands like it was glass. His thumb pressed lightly against the swelling. “Does this hurt?” I nodded. He didn’t say anything. Just stood up. Turned around. Crouched again with his back to me. “Get on.” Later, Gavin explained why he didn’t hear the call. He said Lily had bought an extra movie ticket. Said it would’ve been rude to waste it, so he went with her. He’d put his phone on silent. I looked at him. I could feel something just shift between us. The big screen in the station cycles to a new ad now. It’s the new Forbes cover. From across the waiting area, one of Gavin’s friends points. “Hey — isn’t that Sebastian Crowe?!” I look up. I look at his face. Then I look toward Gavin. He’s scrolling on his phone. Lily is leaning into his side. He doesn’t move away. My phone buzzes in my pocket. “I’ll be waiting in New York.” A second one comes right after. “Pick you up at LaGuardia.”

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Seven days after we buried my husband Adriano, I brought his mother’s illegitimate son home. The main hall is full when we walk in. Capos. Cousins. The family Council. Adriano’s aunt — Lucia Bellandi — perched at the head of the long table like she’s already won. Her son Enzo stands behind her, fourteen years old, chin up, practicing the look of a Don. They were one signature away from making him heir. Donna Cosima Bellandi sits beside her, rosary in her hands, eyes red from a week of crying. My mother-in-law. The matriarch. The only person in this room I had to think twice about. Then Silas steps through the doorway behind me. The room goes silent. Lucia’s smile dies. “No.” Her voice cracks. “No, you’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you.” Cosima rises so fast her chair scrapes the marble. The rosary slips from her fingers. She crosses the hall in five steps and throws her arms around Silas like she’s afraid he’ll dissolve. “My boy. My boy, my boy —” Silas doesn’t move. He lets her hold him. He doesn’t hug back. He doesn’t speak. He stares over her shoulder at the chandelier like he’s never seen a ceiling before. That’s when the room notices. His eyes are blank. Cosima pulls back. Searches his face. “Adriano?” Nothing. “Adriano, baby, it’s Mamma.” Nothing. Lucia recovers first. She always does. She stands. “This is a joke.” Her voice is steel now. “This is an insult. We buried Adriano seven days ago. You” — she points at me — “you bring in some stranger off the street who happens to have his face, and you expect this Council to —” “Who said he was dead?” I cut her clean. The whole room turns. “There was a casket, Rosa.” Her teeth show. “There was a funeral. The whole family —” “There was an empty box.” I keep my voice soft. Almost sorry for her. “No body. No proof. I never believed it. I’ve had men looking for him every day since. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to give Cosima hope and watch her lose him twice.” I turn to Cosima. Soften. “And now he’s home. Aren’t you happy, Lucia?” Lucia’s jaw locks. “Then why doesn’t he know his own mother?” I look at Silas. “Tell them.” He wets his lips. Lowers his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than I’ve ever heard it. “I went into the water. I hit my head on something — I don’t remember what. A fishing family pulled me out downriver. When I woke up, I didn’t know my name.” A long pause. “A few weeks ago I started remembering pieces. A wife. A ring. A house in this city.” He lifts his eyes to Cosima. Holds them there. Lets them shine, just enough. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.” Cosima makes a small, broken sound and grabs his hand with both of hers. The Council shifts. I watch their faces go from suspicion to something softer. Two of the older Capos exchange a look. One of them nods, very slightly. Lucia sees it too. Her seat is gone. Her son’s seat is gone. The thing she’s been circling for seven days, the thing she’s been carving up in her head — gone. “This is not over,” she hisses, and sweeps out with Enzo trailing behind her. The room empties in twos and threes. Cosima exhales like she’s been holding her breath for a week. Then her knees give and she folds toward the floor. “Get the doctor —” We carry her up to her room. The family doctor checks her blood pressure, listens to her heart, and tells me she’s exhausted from grief and shock and she’ll be fine with rest. I show him out. When I turn back, Silas is leaning in the doorway of the hall. Arms crossed. Watching me. Every soft, broken thing on his face is gone. “Mrs. Bellandi.” His eyes crinkle. A slow, lazy smile. “Was my performance… satisfying?”

“You did fine, Mr. Crowe.” I keep walking. He falls into step beside me like a shadow. Like he’s done it for years. “Fine.” He tastes the word. “I keep a Don’s chair warm for his widow, fool an entire Council, make his mother cry on cue — and I get fine.” “You were paid.” “I was saved.” He says it lightly. Almost amused. “Don’t pretend that’s the same thing.” A maid hurries by. Silas’s whole face changes — soft, lost, the gentle son again — until she’s gone. Then it drops. I hate how easy it is for him. We turn into the east corridor. Quiet here. No staff. He slows. “You know, Mrs. Bellandi, I’ll admit something.” I stop. He stops too. “When you came to me with your offer,” he says, “I thought I was replacing some merchant. Some banker. Some soft husband from a soft family.” His head tilts. “Not the Don of the Bellandis.” My pulse ticks once, hard. I keep my face still. “And?” “And nothing.” His mouth curves. “I’m not the kind of man who scares easy. If I were, I’d have crawled to the Riccis a long time ago. I wouldn’t have ended up in a ditch for you to find.” He takes one step closer. Then another. Close enough that I can smell him — clean linen, cold air, something darker underneath. Not Adriano’s scent. Not at all. His hand lifts. I don’t move. He reaches past my cheek and plucks something off the shoulder of my dress. A petal. White. Probably from the funeral wreaths still rotting in the front hall. He holds it up between us. “You had something on you,” he says softly. Then he flicks it away and steps back like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just measure exactly how close he could come before I broke. I draw a breath. “Don’t do that again.” “Do what, Mrs. Bellandi?” His smile is small. Innocent. He gestures vaguely at the air like he has no idea what I mean. I know this man now. He looks like a gentleman. He’s not. A door opens down the hall. Cosima’s maid leans out. “Donna Rosa. She’s asking for you.” … The room smells like beeswax and old prayer. Cosima is propped against the pillows, rosary back in her hands. The color is returning to her face. I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for her hand. “Mamma, the doctor said —” “Rosa.” Her voice is calm. Quiet. That’s how I know I’m in trouble. “You have a lot of nerve.” My stomach drops. “Mamma —” “Did you really think that a mother wouldn’t know her own son?” she doesn’t raise her voice, not once. The room goes very still. “Who is that man you brought into my house?” I slide off the bed and onto my knees beside her. I don’t have to fake it. The marble is cold through my dress. “I wasn’t going to lie to you. Not for long. I swear on Adriano.” “Then start talking.” “His name is Silas Crowe. I found him three weeks ago. He owed me his life — the Riccis had him half dead in a back alley and I pulled him out of it. He looks like Adriano. Exactly like Adriano.” Her fingers tighten on the rosary. “And you thought you’d just — dress him up. Walk him in here.” “I thought,” I say carefully, “that if I didn’t, Lucia would be sitting in Adriano’s chair by the end of the month.” That lands. I see it land. “Mamma.” I shuffle closer on my knees. “The Council was one vote from naming Enzo heir. One. And the second that boy puts on Adriano’s ring, who do you think he answers to? Me? You? Or the woman who raised him?” She doesn’t speak. “Adriano’s body was never found. I don’t believe he’s dead. I have men in three states still looking. But until I bring him home, someone has to sit in that chair, or this family eats itself alive.” I let my voice crack. Just a little. “And if — if Adriano really isn’t coming back — at least this way, the seat is still ours to give. To a cousin. To a real Bellandi child we choose. Not to Lucia’s.” Cosima closes her eyes. The rosary moves through her fingers. A long minute passes. “You should have told me,” she says finally. “I know.” “That man. Crowe.” “Yes, Mamma.” “He’s nothing? No family? No one looking for him?” “No one.” I keep my eyes down. “His father died when he was seven. He never knew his mother.” She is quiet for a long time. Then her hand comes down on the top of my head. Light. Almost a blessing. “All right, Rosa.” “Mamma —” “Double the men looking for my son.” “Yes, Mamma.” I walk to the door. And only when I close it behind me do I let myself breathe. The corridor is empty. But the air at the end of it, near the corner — it shifts. Just slightly. Like someone was standing there a second ago and isn’t anymore. I stare at that empty corner for a long time.

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I have extremely strict personal boundaries, but my contract-marriage husband has severe separation anxiety. Two years into our marriage, we had a son, Leo. He completely inherited his father’s personality—a total clinger who couldn’t survive a second without me. I always found them too draining and did everything I could to avoid them. Just as I was about to push them out of my bedroom door once again, a floating text—like live chat comments—suddenly flashed before my eyes. [So this is how the evil female lead iced out the male lead and their son.] [She didn’t even show up for the Parent-Teacher Conference. Ethan and little Leo are going to be completely heartbroken this time.] [It’s fine. The real female lead is about to show up soon.] [She’ll warm Ethan up with her sunshine personality. Even little Leo, who always dogs the evil female lead’s heels, will be drawn to her.] [When that happens, the rejected wife will be kicked out of the house with a frozen bank account and sent to a run-down cabin upstate, never to return.] What? I would be kicked out upstate? And never allowed back here? I tightened the sash of my silk robe. The next second, I threw the bedroom door wide open, rushed forward, and wrapped my arms tightly around my husband and son who were just about to leave.

I pulled Leo into my arms and ruffled his soft hair. “Mommy isn’t going to the office that day. I’ll go to your Parent-Teacher Conference, okay?” Leo looked at me in shock, his face lighting up with pure joy. He looked like he was about to bounce off the walls. But very quickly, something crossed his mind, and his little head drooped. “Mommy, are you lying to me?” “Last time, you said you’d come to my school field day, but only Daddy showed up in the end.” “I’m already in elementary school, and some of my classmates say I don’t even have a mom!” Hearing Leo’s words, the floating screen instantly went wild with comments. [Lmao, she has completely lost the kid’s trust.] [Who can she blame? Leo used to be her little shadow. Didn’t she push him away time after time to cause this?] [The male lead too. He’s been rejected so much he doesn’t even dare to get close to her anymore.] [Just look at his face. He doesn’t believe for a second that she’s being genuine.] I looked up. Ethan noticed my gaze and quickly, almost reflexively, let go of the corner of my robe he had been secretly twirling between his fingers. He turned his head slightly, biting his lip. His voice was laced with disappointment. “Elena, it’s fine if you can’t make it. But please, don’t promise Leo if you aren’t sure… Otherwise, he’ll wait for you all day, and he’ll cry again when you don’t show up.” Wait, what? I froze. Quickly, I grabbed Ethan’s hand, pressed it firmly against my chest, and practically begged him to believe me. “I won’t! I swear! This time, I’m really going!” “You have to believe me!” Ethan and I were married for business. My parents had a similar marriage of convenience. They lived apart year-round and had zero emotional connection. Aside from business, they barely spoke. I used to think that was a great arrangement. Because I was a textbook low-energy introvert. Even back in college, I found social relationships exhausting. Once I took over the family business, managing projects and negotiating contracts all day, I would come home feeling completely drained. I never wanted to date. I had hoped my partner would be a low-energy corporate drone with strong boundaries just like me. But I never expected Ethan to be a human Golden Retriever who could run ten corporate mergers a day without breaking a sweat. Not only did he have boundless energy, but he also had severe separation anxiety and touch deprivation. He loved sticking to me. “I don’t want to sleep in a separate bed from you, El.” “Wherever you go, I go.” “I love you so much, El. Let’s never be apart, okay?” In our second year of marriage, we had Leo. We hadn’t planned on having a baby so early, but it was an accidental pregnancy, and my doctor advised against an abortion due to my physical condition. Ethan was terrified of putting me through too much pain, so he promised he would take on all the parenting duties. But who knew our son would completely inherit Ethan’s high-energy traits? Leo loved following me everywhere. He was way more attached to me than to his dad. Dealing with one clingy adult was exhausting enough. Now I had a mini-clinger. It instantly triggered my avoidant attachment style. I started hiding from them. Ethan asked me out on dates. “Too tired, not going.” Leo wanted me to go to his school events. “Too tired, not going.” Family weekend trips. “Too tired, not going.” … Lately, though, I had finally gotten the company’s operations under control. I had promoted a few reliable assistants to take over the heavy lifting, so I wasn’t nearly as exhausted anymore. And then I suddenly realized… why hadn’t my two clingy boys been bothering me the past few days?

I raised my eyes and saw the chat comments scrolling again. [Has the cold wife finally realized she’s been ignoring her husband and kid?] [Too late. The male lead is so used to being rejected that he just pleases himself now. He doesn’t want to bother her.] [Ugh, speaking of which… why is Ethan pulling her lingerie out of the drawer again and getting off to her photo?] […Come on guys, cut him some slack. A man has needs.] [Well, it doesn’t matter. Once he meets the sunshine female lead, he won’t have to starve himself anymore.] [The real female lead is super active in bed. She would never leave our boy hanging.] I stood there, dumbfounded. What was Ethan doing? My hand pressed against the bedroom door, and I pushed it open instinctively. Inside the master bedroom. Ethan had one hand tucked under the waistband of his sweatpants, and his left hand was holding his phone. His cheeks were flushed with a deep crimson. Hearing the door, he slowly turned his head. When he saw me, his eyes widened instantly. His entire body froze like a massive Golden Retriever caught stealing food from the counter. “E-El… Elena! When did you get back?” “I… I was just…” I walked over, picked up the phone Ethan had hurriedly tossed onto the bed, and unlocked it with my birthday. The screen showed a photo of me sleeping in my silk pajamas. It was actually a beautiful shot. The morning sun hit my skin, giving me a soft, ethereal glow. I bit my lip. I pulled Ethan out from under the duvet, slipped off my outer cardigan with one hand, and crawled right onto his lap. Oh, so the new girl is supposed to be “active,” huh? Who says I can’t be active? If I’m active enough, you can forget about sending me to some upstate cabin! The body beneath me instantly turned scalding hot. Ethan’s ragged breath tickled my ear. He wrapped his hands gently but firmly around my waist, his voice husky. “What’s gotten into you today? Aren’t you tired?” I bit my lip and shook my head. “I missed you.” Ethan couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned up and kissed me hungrily. The next morning, sunlight poured through the window. Ethan was downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast. As I lay in bed alone, the live comments popped up again. [Are there any VIP users who know what happened last night? Did they actually do it?] [They did! I’m shocked. Why did she suddenly become so aggressive… what about our sunshine girl Chloe?] [It doesn’t matter. With her weak stamina, how could she satisfy Ethan?] [Look at him. He looked so unsatisfied when he went down to cook this morning.] [He obviously stopped after one round just to make sure she wouldn’t get too tired. If this keeps up, he’s going to get bored of her sooner or later.] … “Sigh.” I closed my eyes as the memories of last night flooded back. The comments weren’t entirely wrong. Ethan’s stamina was insane. Plus, since he had been starved for so long, his desire last night was incredibly intense. When we were newly married, he would usually wrap himself around me all night, going multiple rounds until we were both completely exhausted. But last night, he really did stop after just one round. Was he really just worried that I’d be too tired to keep up? With that thought, I threw on a thin satin slip dress and walked down to the kitchen. Ethan was putting scrambled eggs onto the plates. When he looked up and saw what I was wearing, the tips of his ears flushed bright red. The chat comments started complaining again. [See? I told you one round wasn’t enough!] [The moment he saw the hickey on her collarbone, he got a massive hard-on. The man is starving.] [If she can’t satisfy him, she should just hand him over. Seriously.] [Chloe would never say no to him. Once they’re together, they can have all the wild nights they want!] I closed my eyes, forcing myself to ignore the text. I walked over, wrapped my arms around Ethan’s waist, and pressed my front against his back. Mustering up my courage, I was about to tell him that I wasn’t actually that tired, and that last night had felt amazing… But before I could speak, my phone buzzed. It was my assistant, Carter. “Hey Elena, do you have some time today? The team from Eastside Realty wants to discuss the contract details this afternoon. Can you make it to the office?”

Hearing Carter’s voice on the line, Ethan’s body instantly went rigid. He gently untangled himself from my embrace. “Is it work?” “If it’s urgent, you should go.” Carter was a workaholic just like me. His brain was 100% occupied by work. Not only did he grind, but he also expected everyone else to grind. Sometimes he’d text me spreadsheets at midnight. But I had promoted him specifically so he could take over my position. Now that he was ready, he needed to start handling things independently. Besides, Leo’s Parent-Teacher Conference was this afternoon. I absolutely couldn’t miss it. I shook my head and declined Carter’s request over the phone. “The real estate deal is basically wrapped up. The remaining stuff is just minor details. Handle it yourself, and just email me the meeting notes.” Carter grunted in agreement. “Got it. I’ll let you know if anything goes sideways.” The comments began scrolling rapidly. [Wait, what? The workaholic wife actually declined a meeting? What’s going on?] [Every time that little assistant called her, she used to run off. I honestly thought they had something going on.] [Even Ethan is shocked. Look at the way he’s looking at her right now.] I turned to look at Ethan. Sure enough, his eyes were wide with surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected me to stay. I hugged him again, leaning into his chest, wanting to pick up where we left off. “Ethan, do you want to…” To my surprise, Ethan gently pushed me back. This was the first time he had ever rejected me. He looked down, his voice slightly raspy. “I’m sorry, El.” “The hospital just called. My mom’s condition got worse.” “She might need emergency surgery this afternoon, and I have to go sign the consent forms. I’m afraid you’ll have to handle Leo’s school conference on your own.” Ethan’s mother had always been in poor health. Thanks to advanced medical tech and the private doctors the family hired, she had been stable for the past few years. But if Ethan was this worried, it had to be serious. I immediately agreed. “Go. You head to the hospital, and I’ll go to Leo’s school. Don’t worry, your mom is going to be fine.” After setting the plan, Ethan and I went our separate ways. Leo’s school was in the city center, which was a bit of a drive from our suburban estate. After eating, I jumped into my SUV and started driving. According to GPS, I would arrive about thirty minutes early. But halfway there, the chat comments popped up again. [Attention, everyone!] [We have finally reached the plot twist! The male lead is about to meet our sunshine girl today!] [Chloe works at the very hospital where Ethan’s mom is admitted.] [As the lead doctor, Chloe won’t just save his mom with her incredible medical skills; she’s also going to warm Ethan’s lonely heart with her bright personality.] [Ethan has been iced out by his wife for so long. How could he not fall for someone as warm and sweet as Chloe?] [The chemistry between them is going to be off the charts. Get ready for some major romance, guys!] … The female lead. The girl the comments claimed was Ethan’s destiny. Was she really appearing today? And were they really going to… fall in love? Reading those comments, my chest tightened. My mind went completely blank for a split second. In my daze, my hands slipped on the steering wheel. The SUV veered off course, scraping violently against the guardrail with a loud screech of rubber on asphalt. I gasped, slamming my foot hard onto the brakes—

Fortunately, my reflexes were fast enough to prevent a major accident. I got out of the car to inspect the damage. There were some nasty scratches, but nothing structural. Still, by law, I had to wait for the police to file an accident report. I checked my watch. Time was ticking away, and anxiety began to claw at my chest. The comments turned on me, mocking my failure. [Lmao, she promised she’d go to the school event, and now she’s going to flake again, right?] [Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’re just disappointing the kid.] [Thank god Leo meets Chloe later in the story and finally gets the maternal love he deserves.] [Chloe is never cold to Leo, which is why he gets so attached to her.] My chest felt incredibly heavy. If I could tolerate Ethan being taken away from me by some cosmic plot, there was absolutely no way I was going to let another woman take my son. I grew more and more frantic. By the time the police finished the report, I quickly called our estate manager to tow the car for repairs. Then, I hailed an Uber and rushed to the school. When I finally slipped into the classroom, the conference had already been going on for an hour. The teacher was answering questions from other parents. I tried to sneak in through the back door and spotted Leo sitting in his seat. His head was low, looking incredibly dejected. The chubby kid sitting next to him was poking his arm with a pen. “Where’s your mom?” “Why didn’t she show up for you?” “School started weeks ago, and no one has ever seen her… Leo, do you even have a mom?” Leo clenched his little fists, his eyes welling up with tears. Seeing this, I rushed over to him. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. Mommy got into—” Before I could finish, Leo squirmed out of my embrace. His voice trembled with a tiny, heartbroken sob. “You lied to me again, Mommy.” “I… I don’t ever want to love you again.” That was the first time Leo had ever said he didn’t love me. In the past, no matter how many times I rejected him after work, he would always run up to me the next day with a huge smile, acting like my little shadow. The chat screen exploded. [Karma is a bitch. Love to see it.] [She’s never getting Leo’s affection back!] [Don’t cry, Leo! Your daddy is about to find you a much better mommy who will actually cherish you!] … I froze in place. The conference ended shortly after. The teacher, noticing the tense atmosphere, walked over and asked to speak with me privately in the hallway. Her tone carried a hint of disapproval. “Leo is a very sweet, brilliant boy, Mrs. Henderson. You don’t have to worry about his academics.” “But he has high emotional needs. You really need to show up for him more.” “Take today, for instance. You can’t just show up when the meeting is basically over—” She suddenly stopped. Her eyes fell on my arm, and she gasped in horror. “Oh my god, Mrs. Henderson, are you hurt?” “Your sleeve is covered in blood! Let me call an ambulance!”

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The day I was released from prison, I watched my husband bring Brenda into our home. Seven years. I had taken the fall for him and served his sentence. In the prison hospital, I nearly bled to death giving birth to our child. And now, my own son was nestled in Brenda’s arms, calling her “Mommy” in his sweet little voice. I stood in the autumn wind, wearing the same faded coat I had gone to prison in, my entire body numb with cold. Logan Vance pulled a plane ticket from the inner pocket of his tailored suit and handed it to me as if he were dismissing a beggar. “Everything’s been arranged for you overseas. Take the ticket and leave. Don’t come back and disrupt the peaceful life we’ve built here.” I accepted the ticket. Its sharp edge sliced my fingertip. “Does he know who I am?” I asked. Logan’s face darkened. “Chloe, don’t make a scene.” The front door slammed shut in my face. I tore the ticket in half, checked into a motel, and burned my son’s first lock of hair together with my wedding ring until both turned to ashes. Then I signed a body donation agreement. The contract stated that after my death, my husband, my child, and even my parents would have no legal right to claim a single handful of my ashes. Logan Vance… We’re even now. I owe you nothing anymore.

Chloe’s POV On the day I was released from prison, I stood across the street and watched my husband welcome Brenda into our home. Not only that, but my own biological son was cuddled up in Brenda’s arms, sweetly calling her “Mommy.” I was still wearing the same worn-out coat I had on when I went to prison seven years ago. The autumn wind swept past, and the pilled, faded hem of my coat clung coldly to my legs, carrying a musty smell that no amount of washing could ever remove. Inside the living room, the curtains were only half-drawn. The lights were on, blindingly bright. Logan sat on the sofa in a perfectly tailored suit, his tie flawlessly knotted. Brenda sat right beside him. The delicate diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkled under the lights. She was sitting in the exact spot that used to be mine. On the coffee table, my old photos were gone. In their place was a brand-new family portrait. In the photo, Brenda held Logan’s arm, smiling as if she were his real wife. Just then, the sound of cheerful footsteps came from the hallway. A little boy ran out like a happy little bird, throwing himself straight into Brenda’s arms. “Mommy, I want some chocolate cake!” My fingernails dug violently into the hem of my coat, my knuckles turning white from the strain. That was my baby. The baby I had given birth to on a cold, iron bed in the prison hospital, nearly bleeding to death. But before I could even get a proper look at my newborn son, Logan’s family had violently torn him away from me. Back then, I only got to hold my baby for ten minutes. Seven years had passed. My baby could run and jump now, but he was burying his face in Brenda’s lap, calling another woman “Mommy.” Click. The front door of the mansion opened. Logan stepped out. The moment his eyes landed on me, I saw his brows furrow in pure disgust. His cold gaze swept over my miserable, shabby clothes. His eyes lingered on my bare wrist for half a second before quickly looking away. He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a one-way plane ticket, and coldly thrust it in front of my face. “I’ve set everything up for you over there. Once you land, start a new life.” I didn’t take it. I just stared down at the destination printed on the ticket. “Don’t go inside,” Logan said, his voice dropped low, carrying an commanding tone. “Mason is doing great. Brenda takes amazing care of him. You just got out of prison. Don’t ruin the peace we have in this house.” He forced the ticket into my hand. The sharp paper edge cut into my finger, a stinging pain. After handing over the ticket, Logan’s hand remained suspended in the air. I calmly folded the ticket and slipped it into my pocket. Seven years ago, I had accepted another piece of paper from the Vance family with the same submissive obedience. Back then, Logan was facing charges of embezzlement and wire fraud. The entire Vance Group was on the brink of collapse. Logan’s mother, Mrs. Vance, had called me into her study. She slammed a stack of false confession documents in front of me and said coldly, “Logan cannot go to jail. Our family only let you marry him because your face resembles his late first love. The Vance family gave you status and luxury. Now, it’s time to pay us back.” Even though I was married to Logan, I was never allowed a seat at the main family dinner table. Logan’s mother despised me. Even the maids looked down on me. Yet, for Logan’s sake, I was foolish enough to take the fall. I went to prison for him. On the day of my sentencing, the officers escorted me into the police cruiser. Through the tinted window, I looked back. Logan was standing at the back of the crowd, his black overcoat buttoned tightly, his face deathly pale. Back then, I was still stupidly making excuses for him, thinking he was just as heartbroken and helpless as I was. In my second month of prison, I found out I was pregnant. My baby was born in the dingy prison ward. There was nothing but cold metal and sterile walls. When Mason let out his first cry, I struggled to pull him to my chest, ripping the IV out of my arm and leaving a trail of blood. But that very afternoon, the Vance family’s lawyers forced me to sign a termination of visitation rights agreement, taking my baby away. I held him for only ten minutes. Three months before my release, dragging my terminally ill body, I begged a guard for a pen and wrote a letter. I pleaded with Logan to bring Mason to see me just once. That letter was still tucked under the thin mattress of my prison cell. And now, my Mason was sitting on the plush carpet of our old home, eating oranges peeled by Brenda, calling her “Mommy” again and again. I lifted my head, my eyes burning red. “Does he even know who I am?” Logan’s face instantly darkened. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum. Mason is doing perfectly fine.” “I asked you,” I took a step closer, my voice raw and raspy, “Does he have any idea who actually gave birth to him?!” “Logan, the phone keeps ringing. Come inside and grab it. Mason is asking for you, too.” Brenda’s sweet, gentle voice drifted out from the house. Logan glanced back, his tone turning incredibly harsh and ruthless. “All your shares and assets were liquidated years ago. This house has nothing to do with you anymore. The Vance family owes you nothing. Take the ticket and leave. Don’t ever come back.” He turned around coldly and slammed the heavy oak door. Thud. The door shut right in my face, completely blocking out the warm, golden light of the house, leaving me in pitch darkness. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Battling the freezing wind, I walked numbly along the estate’s brick wall toward the main road. The phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a missed call from a research laboratory. I called back. A man with a highly professional, robotic voice answered immediately. “Hello, Miss Vance. We have received your authorization form. Once you sign the final papers, it will take effect immediately. We will take full control according to the agreement.” “Alright. Thank you.” The moment I hung up, a sharp, agonizing pain erupted in my lower abdomen, radiating up to my pelvis. My vision went black. Losing all strength, I collapsed against the brick wall and slid to the ground, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. With trembling hands, I unzipped my bag. The pill bottle rolled into my palm. I couldn’t even wait to find water. I twisted the cap off, grabbed a handful of pills, threw them into my mouth, and swallowed them dry. The chalky tablets scraped down my dry throat, leaving a bitter taste exploding on the back of my tongue.

Chloe’s POV With shaking fingers, I pulled the plane ticket out of my pocket. Printed on it was the foreign city Logan had chosen for me. He had arranged a tiny apartment and a meager monthly allowance there, his most “respectable” way of throwing away his ex-wife. The corner of my mouth twitched into a bitter smile. I gripped the paper. Rip. I tore the ticket to shreds. I didn’t need his charity. Without looking back, I grabbed my suitcase and left. I found a cheap, run-down motel on the edge of the city. I dragged my heavy suitcase up the creaky stairs, opened it, and pulled out a yellowed envelope hidden deep in the inner lining. The edges of the envelope were frayed. Over the last seven years, I had lost count of how many times I had opened it in the dark. My fingers trembled as I poured out the three items inside. The first was my wedding ring. On the inside of the gold band, our wedding date was clumsily engraved. On our wedding day, Logan had slipped it onto my finger himself. The crowd applauded, though his mother sat in the front row looking absolutely furious. Back then, I was naive enough to believe that if I just loved him unconditionally, we would eventually build a beautiful life together. Now I saw it for what it was, a pathetic, one-sided joke. The second item was a tiny lock of baby hair. On the day Mason was born, while the Vance family was busy signing the discharge papers outside, a kind nurse had secretly snipped this lock of hair and pressed it into my sweaty palm. It was the only piece of Mason I had left. The hair was so fine and soft. I had kept it hidden in prison for seven long years, protecting it like it was my very life. The last item was a photograph taken at the visitor’s booth. In the photo, I was wearing a baggy prison uniform, my face pale and my smile forced. I had just been brought back from the prison ward after giving birth. My C-section incision hadn’t even healed, and my legs were shaking so hard I could barely stand. Logan’s mother stood next to me, holding the baby as far away from me as possible with an expression of pure disgust, cursing at me under her breath. But back then, just getting a glimpse of my baby made me feel like all the suffering was worth it. I closed my eyes, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. Without a second thought, I threw the wedding ring and the lock of baby hair into a cold metal trash can. I clicked my lighter three times before a weak blue flame flickered to life. I dropped the flame into the can. The moment the fire touched it, the soft baby hair shriveled into a black speck. A pungent, burnt smell immediately filled the cramped, dark motel room. I crouched on the floor, hugging my knees, staring blankly at the dancing orange flames. For seven years, during those countless sleepless nights in my cell, that lock of hair was the only thing that kept me sane. Whenever the prison lights went out, I would press a damp towel over my face to muffle my tears, while clutching that tiny bit of my son’s warmth in my palm. I had told myself over and over: Logan is waiting for me. My baby needs his mother. I took the fall for Logan, so the Vance family will always keep a place for me. But today, that door had been slammed in my face. As the fire engulfed the ring, the bright gold metal turned black, and the engraved wedding date was swallowed by the ashes. Looking at the ruins, I decided to keep the damaged photograph. I didn’t throw it into the fire. Mason still owed me a “Mommy.” The Vance family still owed me an apology. I would keep this photo until the day I couldn’t hold on anymore, until the day I was finally free. The metal can gradually grew cold. What once represented love and blood was now nothing but a pile of black soot. I picked up the can and dumped the ashes into the trash. When I wiped the bottom of the can with a tissue, a layer of stubborn black soot stained my fingers. My phone vibrated on the table. A flight confirmation message popped up on the screen. Passenger Name: Chloe Vance. Destination: Erlangen, Germany. Departure Time: October 15, 2030. The ticket Logan gave me was designed to exile me so his mistress could take my place as his wife. But the ticket I bought for myself was a one-way trip to my final destination. During my third year in prison, I happened to find a medical journal in the prison library. At the very end of an article, the address of a highly advanced neurological research lab in Erlangen was listed. That was also the year I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The brain injury I suffered years ago when I fell off a cliff to save Logan had finally deteriorated to its absolute limit. I suffered from agonizing, daily headaches and occasional temporary blindness. I knew I didn’t have much time left. I had copied that address into my diary, filling an entire page with it. I turned off the bathroom faucet. The black soot swirled down the drain. My hands were clean, but my heart was completely hollow. The envelope on the table was still open, revealing a corner of the visitor’s booth photo. The peeling white walls of the prison booth looked exceptionally cold under the dim motel light. I pulled out a piece of tissue, carefully wrapped the photo, and tucked it deep inside my suitcase. Outside the window, I could hear the noisy footsteps of other motel guests, mixed with the cheap television static from next door. I turned off the light and lay down on the narrow, rock-hard bed. I packed my pill bottle into the purse I would carry tomorrow. Before falling asleep, I checked in for my flight on my phone. The next morning, I landed at the airport in Erlangen, Germany. I dragged my heavy suitcase out of the terminal. The damp, freezing wind rushed in through the exit, causing my stomach to cramp violently. I pulled the yellowed diary page from my pocket, the address written in faded pencil. The handwriting had become blurry from years of rubbing. I clutched the paper tightly, like it was my only lifeline. The road in front of the motel in the old district was extremely narrow. At the front desk, a stack of yellowed registration forms sat under a glass counter. The owner eyed me suspiciously from head to toe before sliding a key across the counter. “End of the hall, second floor. Hot water is only available before 10 PM.” I bent over and began filling out the registration form. In the emergency contact box, I wrote down Vanessa’s name and phone number.

Chloe’s POV At 2:00 PM sharp, I walked into the laboratory. The facility was quiet, sterile, and smelled heavily of disinfectant. After verifying my ID, the receptionist led me into a cold, windowless conference room. A thick stack of documents was laid out in front of me with a dull thud. “Miss Vance, today is your final in-person consultation. We need to confirm your absolute consent one last time.” The coordinator flipped to the most critical clause, reading it aloud clearly: “Once signed, this agreement is legally binding and completely irrevocable. Upon your passing, your body will be under the sole custody of this laboratory for irreversible medical and neurological research. Your husband, children, parents, or any direct relatives will have no legal right to claim your body, nor will they have the right to revoke this agreement.” The papers on the table felt as cold as metal. I looked at the text. A soft, relaxed smile actually appeared on my pale face. “So,” I spoke softly, my voice hoarse but incredibly firm, “after I die, they won’t even be able to get a single grain of my ashes. Is that correct?” The coordinator looked at me with a complicated expression, then nodded. “Yes. All your physical remains will have absolutely nothing to do with your family.” “Perfect.” Without a single moment of hesitation, I grabbed the pen. The tip of the pen swept across the signature line, leaving a sharp, decisive stroke. Along with the scratching sound of the pen, I closed my eyes. I had finally severed the very last tie binding me to the Vance family. By the time I walked out of the building, the sky had already turned dark. On my way back to the motel, the streetlights flickered on, casting a warm glow through the windows of local shops, reflecting the happy laughter of ordinary families. I paused, watching the warm scenes through the glass for a moment. Then, as if nothing had happened, I looked away and kept walking into the dark alley. The creaky wooden stairs of the motel groaned under my feet. I held onto the peeling banister as I walked back to my room. I pushed open the bathroom door and plunged my hands into the cold water. Suddenly, a rush of copper sweetness welled up in my throat. A massive amount of dark red blood splattered violently across the stained sink. I doubled over in agony, my hands gripping the edge of the porcelain sink so hard my nails made a screeching sound. Every violent cough felt like dozens of rusty knives hacking away at my chest and abdomen. Another wave of blood splattered directly onto the mirror. The cold water kept running, washing the blood down the drain in a swirling, pink vortex. My body was completely giving out. I tried to reach for my pills, but my legs gave way. My back hit the wall hard, and I slid down onto the freezing, wet tile floor. My pain medication was in my bag right next to the bed. I struggled to reach out, my fingers clawing at the empty air, but I couldn’t even reach the bathroom threshold. The faucet was still running, and the water began to overflow onto the floor, seeping through the crack beneath the door. Night fell completely. I heard the motel owner’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs to collect deposits. He stopped outside my door, pounding on the wood. “Miss Vance? Miss Vance, are you in there?” He knocked three times. But other than the sound of rushing water, there was no response. I heard his voice, but I couldn’t make a sound. Suddenly, I heard the owner let out a terrified scream. “Oh my God! Someone’s dead! Call the police!” His frantic footsteps scrambled back down the stairs. He would probably call the emergency contact on my form, Vanessa. In the corner of the dark bathroom, I slumped against the wall, surrounded by a pool of diluted blood. I looked up at the flickering bulb on the ceiling, my vision slowly fading. Before slipping into complete darkness, only one thought remained in my mind: Logan… we are finally even. By the time Vanessa rushed to the motel, I was slumped against the wall. The blood on my lips had dried, and my face was terrifyingly pale. “Chloe!” Vanessa knelt down, slapping my cheeks gently, but I had absolutely no energy left to respond. I saw her pull out her phone, her voice shaking with panic as she called for an ambulance, repeating the motel address twice before I finally blacked out. The emergency room lights stayed bright past midnight. I heard the doctor walk out into the hallway with my lab results, his tone grave. “The patient is in the terminal stage of cancer. Multiple organs are already showing signs of failure. She has been pushing her body to the limit with heavy medication.” Vanessa stood in the hallway. “Is there any way to treat her?” The doctor replied, “We are stabilizing her now, but she needs to be moved to an ICU. Her family needs to get here as soon as possible.” “She has no family.” As soon as Vanessa said that, I heard her dial a number. Someone answered quickly. Half an hour later, a lawyer arrived at the hospital, his suit jacket still carrying the chill of the night wind. “The authorization agreement has already taken effect.” The lawyer handed the legal documents to the doctor, then turned to Vanessa. “She signed the donor agreement in advance. Our partner hospital is ready to receive her. Her former family has no legal right to make decisions for her.” Vanessa’s fingers trembled as she stared at the papers. “When did she sign this?” “She signed it remotely while she was still in prison. We finalized the in-person verification today.” Vanessa turned her head to look at me through the glass. I lay on the bed with an oxygen mask strapped to my face. My wrists were so thin that the IV tape looked ridiculously wide. Vanessa walked into the room and pulled up a chair. She opened her phone and looked at the message I had sent her on the day I got out of prison. It was just one sentence: Vanessa, I’m leaving. She turned off the screen and placed the phone on the nightstand. The lawyer walked in to inform her that the transfer paperwork was complete. They would move me to the research facility first thing in the morning.

Logan’s POV I sat in the back of my car. My assistant sent over Chloe’s bank records from the past few months. The screen was completely blank. No withdrawals, no purchases, and no check-in record for the flight I had booked for her. She had torn up the ticket. I stared at the screen for a long time, then dialed another number to track down the apartment Chloe lived in before her arrest. The next afternoon, I stood in front of that apartment. A stranger opened the door, holding a young child in his arms. “Who are you looking for?” I gave him the address. The man shrugged. “This place was sold years ago. The transaction went through a law firm.” I pressed for details about where the money went. The man dug up an old folder and placed a transfer receipt on the shoe cabinet. The recipient’s account name was Logan Vance. The date was exactly one week before Chloe went to prison. I pulled out my phone and accessed my old, deactivated bank account. Sure enough, the transaction was sitting in my history. The amount matched the receipt perfectly. She had sold her only apartment and transferred every single penny to me. A week before going to jail, she was still desperately trying to cover my company’s financial deficit. When I walked out of the building, the sun was already setting. The streetlights flickered on, casting a dim light on the cracked steps. I stood by the curb, clutching the photo of the transfer receipt. The cold night wind blew past. My phone lit up multiple times with incoming calls from my mother, but I let them ring out. By the time the first street sweeper drove past the block at dawn, I was still standing outside her old apartment. As daylight broke, I finally got back into my car. I sat in the driver’s seat, my fingers stiff from the cold. The record of that bank transfer remained open on my screen. The date burned into my eyes, refusing to fade. A notification from my assistant popped up. It was a screenshot of several trending local gossip articles. “Billionaire’s Ex-Wife Steps Out of Prison and Straight into Another Man’s Bed.” “The Woman Who Took the Fall for Her Husband Was Already Dirty.” “Cheating on the Day of Her Release: How the Vance Family Was Scammed for Years.” None of the articles used real names, but the details, taking the fall for a husband, the marital home, cheating on the release day, all pointed directly to Chloe. My assistant added, “The posts were all published last night. The initial accounts sharing them look like paid bots.” I shut off the screen. I started the engine, but instead of setting the navigation back to the office, I drove aimlessly down the streets surrounding her old apartment. Half an hour later, Brenda appeared by my car door. She was holding a stack of printed photos, standing outside my window. Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were filled with anxiety. “Logan, stop looking for her.” I rolled down the window. Brenda thrust the photos through the gap. They were cropped photos of Chloe standing next to various men, taken from highly misleading angles. One showed her in a hospital hallway being supported by a man, with a scandalous caption. Another was taken outside a motel, showing her walking in while a man stood closely behind her. “I didn’t want to show you these,” Brenda bit her lip. “She was already cheating on you before she went to prison. She never planned on coming back to you. She took your money to fund her affairs, and now people online are starting to dig up her past.” I looked down, refusing to touch the photos. Brenda’s voice grew frantic. “If you keep digging, it’s going to ruin you, and it’s going to ruin Mason! If she makes a scene, what will happen to the Vance Group? What will happen to Mason’s future?” I reached out and shoved the photos back into her arms. The papers hit Brenda’s chest, scattering all over the car floor. Brenda froze. “Logan?” “Who gave you these?” Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t find her words. I pushed the car door open and stepped out. I bent down and picked up the top photo from the floor mat, my thumb pressing against Chloe’s face. She had gotten so thin. Her cheeks were hollow, and even in a blurry photo, she looked incredibly sick. And people were using these photos to spread disgusting rumors. I threw the photo back at Brenda. “Don’t ever bring this garbage to me again.” Brenda’s face drained of color. By the time I returned to the Vance Group headquarters, the PR department was already waiting in the conference room. Media inquiries were piling up in our inbox. The online narrative had escalated from a scandalous personal life to Chloe conspiring with outsiders to steal Vance family assets. In the comment section, someone had leaked Chloe’s old identity details, including the address of her pre-marriage apartment. The head of PR asked, “Mr. Vance, should we issue a statement to distance ourselves from her?” “No response for now,” I placed my phone on the table. “Find the source. Trace the initial accounts that posted the rumors. One by one.” The PR head nodded and hurried out. Immediately, my mother’s call came through. I picked up, and her voice instantly boomed through the speaker. “I saw the news online. I told you years ago that a girl like Chloe would eventually cheat on you!” I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. My mother continued, “The Sinclair Group has already agreed to the merger. Victoria Sinclair is waiting to finalize the marriage paperwork with you. Get the divorce papers signed with Chloe within the week. Stop dragging this out.” I remained silent. “Don’t let Chloe embarrass us any further. She’s a convict, and now she’s involved in this disgusting scandal. Do you want the Vance family to become a laughingstock? If you don’t sign those papers, I will come to your office myself.” I heard the sound of papers rustling on her end. Her final words were icy cold. “Don’t make me lose face in front of our business partners again.” The line went dead. I sat in the empty conference room. The bright daylight streamed in through the glass windows. A new message from my assistant popped up on my phone: “We found the law firm. Mr. Davis, the attorney who handled the apartment sale back then, is still practicing.”

Logan’s POV I drove to the law office that very afternoon. The firm was located on the seventh floor of an old commercial building. The hallway was narrow, and the walls were lined with faded licenses. After verifying my identity, the receptionist, Mia, led me into a small meeting room next to the archive room. Mr. Davis was waiting for me. His hair was mostly gray, and his eyes locked onto mine the moment I walked in. “Mr. Vance, the files from back then are still in our database.” Mr. Davis pulled a folder from the cabinet. The label was faded, but Chloe’s handwritten signature on the bottom right corner was perfectly clear under the clear tape. The handwriting was thin but steady. He placed the folder on the table. Mr. Davis pulled out the apartment transfer agreement first, flipping to the signature page. “She signed this herself. Her fingerprint is right here.” A red ink fingerprint was pressed firmly onto the paper. My throat tightened as I stared at it. Then, Mr. Davis pulled out another document. “She requested we keep this one on file as well.” The cover read: Deed of Gift. I opened it. The text was incredibly short: I hereby donate all proceeds from the sale of my apartment to my husband, Logan Vance, to help him overcome his current financial difficulties. The date was exactly one week before she went to prison. When she signed this, she already knew she was going to take the fall and go to jail for me. My fingers pressed against the paper, trembling for a long time before I could let go. Mr. Davis waited patiently, reaching out to pack up the files. I brushed his hand away and kept flipping through the folder. At the very back of the folder, there were a few appended documents. When I reached the final page, my fingers brushed against a photocopy of a newer document. It was kept separately at the back, with a bold header: Irrevocable Personal Authorization and Release Form. I looked up. “What is this?” Mr. Davis glanced at it. “A copy for our records. The original is kept at the research laboratory.” “What laboratory?” “An independent neurological research facility she contacted while she was in prison.” I looked down at the document. The first section was identity verification. The second section stated that upon her death, her body would be under the sole custody of the laboratory for irreversible medical and neurological research. The third section was a limitation of relative rights, with a bolded sentence at the bottom: No relatives, including spouse, parents, or children, shall have any right to claim the body or make any post-mortem decisions. My eyes locked onto that sentence. At that moment, the hum of the air conditioner in the room seemed to vanish. While she was still in prison, she had completely excluded me from her death. She had given me her apartment, given me seven years of her life, and given me a child. But in the end, she didn’t even want to leave a single cell of her body to the Vance family. I picked up the copy, the paper shaking slightly in my hand. “Give me the name and address of the laboratory.” Mr. Davis checked his database index, frowning as he scanned the screen. “The specific name is in another transfer document in our main archives. I can’t access it today.” “When can you get it?” “Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.” Clutching the copy of the deed of gift and the authorization form, I walked out of the law firm. I sat in the back of my car, placing the two documents on the passenger seat. Outside, the sky was gradually darkening as people rushed in and out of the office building. I pulled out my phone and messaged my assistant: “Search for all independent laboratories in the country specializing in neurological or brain science research.” My assistant replied almost instantly: “There are three main facilities.” I set my phone down, my gaze falling back on the passenger seat. The bold header of the authorization form peeked out, the paper fluttering slightly in the draft from the window. By the time I returned to the Vance estate, the night was pitch black. When I pushed the front door open, the shoe rack looked empty. Chloe’s old light-colored slippers were no longer in their usual spot. The bottom shelf of the cabinet had been wiped clean by the maids, looking cold and sterile. The corner of the sofa by the window was empty too. Before she went to prison, she used to sit there every night waiting for me to come home, a book resting on her lap. The moment she heard the door, she would look up and smile. Later, that corner was replaced with decorative pillows, designer vases, and a light-colored cashmere blanket that Brenda liked. I walked upstairs and pushed open the guest room door. Inside the closet, there were only a few empty hangers. The drawers were completely cleared out, leaving only a faint, dusty ring on the vanity table. That was where her perfume bottle used to sit. The bottle was slender. She rarely used it, only spraying a little when the Vance family hosted formal dinners. The scent was so light that it would vanish the moment she turned around. I had never once asked when these things were thrown away. I stood in the center of the silent room, the ceiling light casting a harsh glare over me. Chloe had lived in this house for seven years, yet the last traces of her existence couldn’t even secure the space of a single perfume bottle. I turned and walked into my study. The bookshelf lined the wall. On the very bottom shelf, there were a few old leather-bound books. I knelt down, sliding my fingers across the spines. When my fingers brushed against a book with a cracked cover, I felt a slight bulge. I pulled the book out and opened it. Tucked inside were several folded sheets of paper. The edges were yellowed and frayed. When I unfolded the first page, I saw tight, delicate handwriting filling the paper. It was Chloe’s handwriting. The entry was dated during her second year in prison. She wrote about giving birth to Mason in the prison ward. There were only nurses and guards by her bedside. When the baby let out his first cry, someone wrapped him in a blanket. She reached out to hold him, but the guard told her that the Vance family’s representative had already arrived to take the baby. She begged them for just ten minutes. The handwriting on the paper grew heavy here, the pen almost ripping through the page. I just wanted to hold him for ten minutes. I stared at the words, my fingers gripping the edge of the paper. The second page talked about the ocean. Chloe wrote that the coastal town she lived in as a child had a beautiful beach with fine sand that wouldn’t hurt a child’s bare feet. She hoped that once she got out of prison, she could take Mason there and let him run around all afternoon. She had even drawn a clumsy little sand shovel in the margin. The third page was about her diagnosis. Terminal cancer. The doctor told her she didn’t have much time left and urged her to contact her family. She had crossed out that line, writing underneath: No need to trouble them. The last page had only a few short lines. I don’t want to drag this body back and forth between the prison and the Vance family anymore. If I can still walk on the day of my release, I just want to see him one last time. Just one look before I die. The date was three months before her release. My thumb pressed against the date, crushing the paper into new creases.

Logan’s POV On the day she stood outside my villa, wearing those threadbare clothes and looking deathly pale, I had shoved a plane ticket into her hand and told her not to ruin my life. She had fought through her terminal illness just to see me one last time, and I had told her to get lost. My body slouched back. My head hit the doorframe with a dull thud that echoed through the quiet study. The pages of her diary scattered across the carpet. A wave of intense nausea surged up my throat. I scrambled out of the study, stumbled into the bathroom at the end of the hallway, and bent over the toilet, vomiting violently. My stomach was empty, so I only threw up bitter bile, the acid burning my throat. I gripped the edge of the sink. In the mirror, my eyes were bloodshot, my collar was torn open, and the veins on the back of my hands were bulging. Where was I when Chloe was begging on the delivery table for ten minutes? Where was I when Mason was taken away? And where was I when she wrote that her only wish before dying was to see me one last time? I slid down onto the cold tile floor, the chill seeping into my back. Tears spilled over, hot and heavy, tracking down my face. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to muffle my sobs, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the sour bile. The scattered pages of her diary still lay on the study carpet. The last page was facing up, the date clear under the soft light. The next morning, my mother and father stormed into the villa. Before the maids could even stop them, my mother marched into the living room. Her gaze swept over the open books on the sofa and the unwashed glass on the table, her face contorting with undisguised disgust. “Look at you! What is wrong with you?” I sat on the sofa, my shirt wrinkled and my eyes heavily bloodshot. My mother snatched a set of divorce papers from her designer bag and slammed them onto the coffee table. “Victoria Sinclair’s family is waiting to finalize the marriage paperwork. They’ve given us plenty of respect. Are you really going to ruin this family over a convict like Chloe?” My father stood behind her, his face grim. “The company needs this merger, Logan.” I looked up at them, my eyes shifting to the phone in my mother’s hand. The screen was lit up with urgent messages from the Sinclair family. My mother pushed the papers closer to me. “Sign it! She’s been to prison, and now she’s wrapped up in this cheap cheating scandal. Do you want the Vance family to lose all credibility? If you don’t sign, I will make the announcement myself.” I suddenly stood up. I snatched my mother’s phone from her hand and threw it violently onto the hardwood floor. The sound of the screen shattering instantly silenced the room. My mother shrieked. “Logan! Are you insane?” “The merger is off.” “What did you say?” “I am not marrying Victoria Sinclair,” I stood before her, my voice incredibly raspy. “And I am not signing these divorce papers.” My mother’s face turned pale with fury. “You’re rebelling against your own family for Chloe? What is she to you?” I stared at her. “Who was the one who went to prison for me?” My mother bit her lip. “She did that voluntarily.” “On the day she went to prison. On the day she gave birth in that cell. On the day her baby was snatched away. Did you ever mention her name even once?” My mother froze. My father stepped forward. “Logan, that happened years ago. Bringing it up now serves no purpose.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant’s number. “Freeze all accounts under my parents’ names that are funded by my company. Cancel their black cards, repossess the luxury vehicles, and lock down the estate properties. Do it today.” My mother’s eyes widened, and she lunged forward to grab my phone. “How dare you!” I stepped aside. The assistant confirmed the order on the other end of the line, and I hung up, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “If you want to merge with the Sinclairs so badly, fund it yourselves.” My mother’s voice shrieked to a high pitch. “I am your mother. You’re doing this to me for a convict?” The security guards stood at the entrance. The moment I said, “Escort them out,” they stepped forward immediately. My mother clutched the crumpled divorce papers, crying and cursing as she was ushered out. My father’s face was dark as night. He glared at me one last time before leaving. Once the front door closed, the living room fell silent again. Only the shattered glass of the phone remained on the floor.

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I loved Alpha James for ten years. But at his twenty-eighth birthday gala, I watched him announce that he had found his Fated Mate, Sophia. He mocked my devotion. Me, his adopted sister. Sophia staged a fall down the stairs. In retaliation, James whipped me with a silver-laced whip and locked my heavily wounded body in the basement. He looked at me with pure disgust. “You are so malicious. Who could ever love someone like you?” In the end, I died a miserable death in that cold, dark basement. Reborn into a new life, I stood before my mother and said with absolute resolve, “I will marry the Alpha King.” Alpha King Alexander Blackwood, the madman rumored to have killed his three previous fiancées. Emily Carter POV At the twenty-eighth birthday gala of Alpha James of the Moonhowl Pack, he gave me a massive “surprise.” In front of all the guests, he led Sophia Langley onto the stage and took the microphone. “To mark this special day, I have an announcement. I have found my Fated Mate. She is Sophia of the Ironclaw Pack. Furthermore, starting tomorrow, Sophia will take full control of the Moonhowl Pack’s core project, the development of the Silver-Purge Salve.” Instantly, the entire banquet hall fell dead silent. Every single gaze stabbed into me like a knife. Emily Carter. My parents were brave werewolf warriors who died protecting the Elder Alpha and Elder Luna. After their sacrifice, the Elder Alpha adopted me. I became James’s sister in name. I was ten that year. Since then, everyone in the pack knew that James had a loyal shadow. Eventually, I fell in love with James. Because I had never awakened my own wolf, I threw myself into studying herbal medicine to prove I was worthy of him. The “Silver-Purge Salve” project was my life’s work. I had spent three long years, pulled countless all-nighters, and poured my blood, sweat, and tears into inventing it for the Moonhowl Pack. Now, with one casual sentence, he handed my hard-won creation to his Fated Mate on a silver platter. Everyone held their breath. They were waiting for me to lose my mind. They expected me to charge the stage like a madwoman, rip Sophia’s hair out, and make a complete fool of myself. After all, everyone knew how crazily I loved James. Since I declared my love for him at twelve, I had spent ten years keeping every other woman away from him. Any woman who tried to crawl into his bed was ruthlessly thrown out. But this time, I didn’t react. I simply put down my wine glass, took a pre-prepared file and a velvet gift box from my bag, and walked up to the stage in my high heels. I pushed the documents and the box toward them. “Congratulations. Happy birthday. This file contains all the core data and formulas for the Silver-Purge Salve project, Luna Sophia.” The velvet box popped open, revealing a priceless vintage Patek Philippe watch. I had saved up for five years to buy it at an auction. The moment I said “Luna Sophia,” James’s hand froze mid-air. He lifted his gaze, his dark, piercing eyes locking onto me, trying to drill a hole through my face. After analyzing me for half a minute, his brows furrowed, and he let out a cold sneer. “Emily, what kind of game are you playing now?” His tone was dripping with mockery and suspicion. I stared at the face I had adored for a decade. He had sharp, defined brows and eyes like stars. His jawline was cold and chiseled. I used to love this face so much that I would have gladly died for him. But now, my heart was a pool of dead water. “I’m not playing games.” I lowered my eyes. “I genuinely wish you both the best. Since you’ve found your Fated Mate, I’ll pack my things and move out of the Packhouse tomorrow. I’ll make room for you guys.” James’s eyebrows knitted together tightly. He stared at me, trying to detect even a shred of pretense on my face. There was nothing. An inexplicable wave of irritation washed over him. Just as he was about to speak, Sophia gently tugged at his sleeve. “James, is Emily mad at me? If she doesn’t want me to have it, I can just reject the project.” Her voice was soft, fragile, and utterly pathetic. James immediately grabbed her hand and glared at me coldly. “She’s the one who wants to get lost. Nobody is stopping her. Emily, remember what you just said. Get the hell out tomorrow. And don’t come back without my permission!” “Fine.” Without hesitation, I turned, walked off the stage, and left the hall. Nobody knew that I had already died once. In my past life, at this very birthday gala, I had lost my mind. I screamed, threw a tantrum, and slapped Sophia in front of everyone. To punish me and please her, James locked me in the basement for an entire month. Later, relying on his mother’s affection for me, I nagged, begged, and even drugged James to get into his bed, forcing him to marry me. But a forced marriage was nothing but hell. After the wedding, he treated me like an enemy. He humiliated and crushed me at every turn. He even brought Sophia into our bedroom to make love right in front of me, watching cold-heartedly as I cried in agony. Eventually, Sophia had me secretly murdered. After my death, my soul met Selene. The Moon Goddess of werewolf faith. She told me that I wasn’t wolf-less. I was the chosen one, the destined Luna Queen. But my Fated Mate was poisoned. His agony was transmitted to me, keeping my wolf in a constant state of near-death weakness. Having a second chance at life, I finally understood. Unrequited love is just a curse. My obsession had destroyed the Moonhowl Pack and myself. But my destiny lay elsewhere. In my past life, because the Alpha King had never found his Luna Queen, the wolves of the kingdom were filled with anxiety and aggression. Even though the Alpha King used his immense power to suppress the chaos, he couldn’t stop the wars instigated by ambitious rebels. Of course, another reason was that the Alpha King was poisoned. He was forced to miss almost every major pack celebration, which kept him from noticing the dark undercurrents rising among the packs. But this time, things would be different. I would stop it all from happening. Returning to the Packhouse, I walked straight to my adoptive mother’s room. Seeing her face so alive and healthy, tears spilled from my eyes. She rushed forward and hugged me tight. “Emily, what’s wrong? Did James bully you again? I heard about him giving your patent to Sophia. I’ll go rip him a new one tomorrow!” I shook my head, staring deeply into her eyes. “Mom, I heard the Council is demanding you send a bride to the Alpha King for an alliance.” I lifted my chin, my gaze absolute. “I want to marry Alpha King Alexander Blackwood.”

Emily Carter POV “You want to marry Alpha King Alexander Blackwood?” My mother’s face went pale with horror. She gripped my shoulders, her voice shaking violently. “Emily, have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea what kind of man he is? Ever since that battle years ago, he goes completely feral every single night. The Council is desperate to find a compatible mate to suppress the poison in his blood. But the previous three fiancées sent by other packs, they all vanished into thin air the moment they entered his castle. If you go there, will you even survive?” I didn’t try to pull away. I just squeezed her hands back. My voice was soft but steady. “Rumors aren’t always true. Besides, in everyone else’s eyes, aren’t I just a crazy woman who would do anything to steal her brother? A madman and a madwoman. We’re a perfect match.” “But…” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ve always loved you like my own daughter. How can I push you into a burning hell?” “You know the state of the Moonhowl Pack better than I do, Mom. James has been embezzling a massive chunk of pack funds just to buy Sophia luxury items. Didn’t the Council say that if we send a bride, the Alpha King will provide a massive financial bailout for our pack?” I calmly laid out the facts, watching her face crumble as I pushed harder. “And once I’m married, James can finally be with Sophia without constantly worrying about me. The Moonhowl Pack is saved, and James gets his freedom. Everyone wins.” My mother stared at me for a long, painful moment before burying her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. “My sweet girl… I am so sorry…” I gently patted her back, feeling nothing but a profound sense of relief. “Please keep this a secret from James for now. I don’t want him thinking I’m doing this to guilt-trip him. In two weeks, I will leave directly with the Alpha King’s men.” Two weeks. What a coincidence. That was the exact day James planned to formally propose to Sophia. In my last life, I ruined his proposal. In this life, I would use my marriage to buy him the future he wanted. After comforting my mother, I went back to my room. The moment I pushed the door open, the room suffocated me with reminders of James. The walls were plastered with candid photos I had taken of him. The closet was stuffed with clothes he had casually bought for me. Even the lighter sitting on my desk was a cheap thing he had tossed aside, which I had cherished like a sacred relic. Looking at these things I once valued more than my life, I felt a wave of nausea. I grabbed several large black trash bags and began to purge. Photos? Ripped to shreds. Clothes? Cut into rags. Gifts? Smashed to pieces. Bit by bit, I swept ten years of pathetic, unrequited delusion into the trash. It took me three grueling hours. I was dripping with sweat, and my fingers were bleeding from sharp plastic edges, but looking at the empty room, my chest felt lighter than ever. I took a shower and had just lain down to sleep when my bedroom door was violently kicked open. A loud crash echoed through the room. I bolted upright, startled. James stood at the doorway, radiating pure fury. He was gripping a tablet in his hand, his eyes dark enough to kill. He marched over to my bed and slammed the tablet hard against my chest. “Emily Carter, look at you! You pretend to be all sweet and compliant on the outside, voluntarily handing over your research, while stabbing us in the back with this disgusting stunt!” I gasped from the impact, wincing as I picked up the tablet. On the screen was the top trending topic on the pack’s internal forum. “Sophia Langley of the Ironclaw Pack, Bully and Abuser Exposed.” “Sophia Langley’s Criminal Past!” “Sophia the Homewrecker!” The leak was highly detailed, complete with photos and documents. It listed Sophia’s punishment records for bullying pack members back in the Ironclaw Pack, and even featured intimate photos of her with several different male wolves. To an ordinary werewolf, these actions might not seem like a death sentence. But Sophia was about to become the Luna of the Moonhowl Pack. A Luna was expected to possess impeccable morals and a nurturing grace to balance the rough, hot-tempered Alphas. She was the anchor of the pack’s stability. Unsurprisingly, the comment section was flooded with members questioning her fitness to lead. I glanced at it briefly before tossing the tablet back onto the bed. “I didn’t do this.” “If it wasn’t you, then who?!” James suddenly lunged, wrapping his hand tightly around my throat. He pinned me against the headboard, the veins on his hand bulging. “Who else but a psycho like you would keep digging up dirt on Sophia? Do you honestly think that ruining her reputation will make me accept you? In your dreams!” My breath was cut off, but I didn’t claw at his hand. I just stared back at him coldly. “James Whitfield, calm down! I said, it wasn’t me.” “You dare lie to me!” He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening. “For years, you’ve been hostile to every single woman who got close to me. Private threats, public defamation. You did it all! Emily, you are so disgusting and wicked!” Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside. Sophia rushed into the room, tears streaming down her face, and threw her arms around James’s arm. “James, stop! Please! Emily didn’t mean to… she just cares about you too much. It doesn’t matter if my reputation is ruined, as long as you two don’t fight because of me…” She gasped for air, looking as if she might faint. James immediately let go of me, pulling her protectively into his chest. When he looked back at me, his eyes were cold as ice. “Emily Carter, make a public statement right now. Admit that you fabricated all of this, and apologize to Sophia publicly!”

Emily Carter POV “Why should I?” I clutched my bruised neck, coughing hoarsely as I looked up to meet James’s gaze. “I will never apologize for something I didn’t do.” James’s face darkened instantly. He let go of Sophia and took a menacing step toward me, his voice dangerously low. “Emily, have I been too soft on you? Sophia is my Fated Mate and the future Luna. If this scandal isn’t cleared up, the pack will reject her! If you don’t issue a statement, she’s ruined!” “If she’s ruined, how is that my problem?” I let out a cold laugh. “She knows exactly what kind of trash she did in her past. James Whitfield, you’re protecting her so blindly. Aren’t you afraid you’re holding a piece of garbage?” Slap. A violent slap struck my face. My head snapped to the side, my ears ringing as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Sophia gasped, covering her mouth in mock horror. “James, why did you hit her…” James’s hand hung in the air, trembling slightly. He hadn’t expected to hit me that hard. A flash of regret crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by cold indifference. “That’s the price for your filthy mouth.” He said coldly. “Emily, I’ll give you one last chance. Are you going to clear her name or not?” I slowly turned my head back, wiped the blood from my lip with my thumb, and laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost came out. This was the man I had loved for ten years. For a woman filled with lies, he played judge and jury without knowing the truth, and even raised his hand against me. “Alpha James, didn’t you say I did this because I love you?” Barefoot, I stepped off the bed and walked over to the corner, kicking open the massive black trash bags. Shredded clothes, torn photographs, and smashed gifts spilled across the floor. James’s pupils contracted instantly. He stared at a torn photo on the ground. It was a picture from his eighteenth birthday, a photo I had practically begged and annoyed him to take with me. He had hated it, but I had framed it and kept it by my bedside like a treasure. Now, his face in the photo was cut to pieces. “Do you see this?” I pointed at the mess on the ground. “I don’t love you anymore. Your things disgust me. So believe me, I don’t have the time or energy to waste on your little precious princess.” James’s face drained of color. “You…” He opened his mouth, but his throat was too tight to produce words. Seeing this, a flash of jealousy and malice shot through Sophia’s eyes. She quickly grabbed James’s sleeve, whispering gently, “James, since Emily said it wasn’t her, let’s just leave it. We’ll find another way. Don’t force her.” James took a deep breath and gave me one last frigid look. “It better not be you. Otherwise, I will make you pay.” With that, he pulled Sophia and walked out. I stared at their retreating figures and muttered, “Get lost.” James paused for a fraction of a second, his back stiffening, but he didn’t turn around. He stormed off. I collapsed onto the floor amidst the wreckage and closed my eyes. It was over. Truly over. The next morning, I carried my suitcase downstairs, ready to leave the Packhouse. I wanted to find a quiet place to stay before the Alpha King’s men arrived, away from their drama. As I reached the living room, James and Sophia were heading out to manage the public relations crisis. Seeing my suitcase, James frowned. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Back to my parents’ old house,” I said flatly. “Didn’t you tell me to get the hell out yesterday?” James choked on his words, his expression souring. Before he could speak, the front doors were violently thrown open. A disheveled woman with bloodshot eyes burst in, clutching a gleaming silver dagger. She lunged at Sophia like a maniac. “Sophia Langley! You bitch! You framed me for seducing the Alpha and got me kicked out of my pack! My mother died protecting me from rogues because of you! Today, I’m taking your life!” It happened too fast. Nobody had time to react. The dagger sliced through the air, heading straight for Sophia’s chest.

Emily Carter POV “Sophia!” James reacted with lightning speed. He wrapped his arm around Sophia’s waist, pulling her into his chest and spinning away from the lethal blade. But he forgot that I was standing right behind him. Not only did his spin expose me directly to the danger, but he also shoved me hard. The force sent me crashing right into the path of the frantic woman’s dagger. The sound of metal tearing through flesh echoed sharply in the quiet living room. An agonizing pain erupted just below my left shoulder blade. The cold silver blade sank deep into my back, and hot blood immediately spurted out. The burning sensation of silver began to eat away at my wound. I let out a strangled groan, my knees buckling as I collapsed onto the floor. “Emily!” My mother screamed, rushing down the stairs. I clutched my wound, but blood kept oozing through my fingers. My vision began to blur, but before darkness claimed me, I saw James’s face clearly. He was holding a trembling Sophia, staring at me lying in a pool of blood. His eyes were wide with shock and a fleeting moment of pure panic. His lips moved, seemingly calling my name. But I couldn’t hear him anymore. When I woke up, I was in the Packhouse clinic. The sharp smell of antiseptic made me wince. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my mother sitting by the bed, her eyes swollen. “Emily, you’re finally awake! You scared me to death…” She squeezed my hand, tears spilling over again. I forced a weak smile. “Mom, I’m fine.” “Fine?! The blade was an inch away from your heart! And it was silver!” My mother snapped, turning her head to glare at James, who was standing by the window. “James Whitfield, are you blind?! It’s one thing to protect that trash, but why did you throw Emily in front of the knife? She is your sister!” James stood in the shadows, his face incredibly dark. He stared at me, his jaw clenched tightly, his voice hoarse. “It wasn’t intentional. It was an emergency, and I didn’t see her behind me.” “Didn’t see her? You’re an Alpha, and you can’t even protect your own family?” My mother was shaking with rage. “Let me tell you, Emily is about to…” “Mom!” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to cut her off. My mother froze, seeing the pleading look in my eyes, and reluctantly swallowed the rest of her words. James’s sharp instincts picked up on the tension. His brow furrowed. “She’s about to what?” “Nothing,” I said coldly, looking straight at him. “My mother means I’m leaving the Packhouse soon anyway, so I won’t be an eyesore. My wound is fine, so please don’t trouble yourself, Alpha James.” James’s face hardened instantly. He walked to the bedside, looking down at me with his usual arrogant contempt. “Emily, you don’t need to play the victim in front of me. Don’t think that taking a knife for Sophia will make me soft on you. This trick is pathetic.” I stared at him, feeling absolutely nothing. “James, do you have a persecution complex?” I said quietly. “I took this hit to pay you back for the ten years you acted as my brother. From now on, we are even. The door is right there. Get out. I need to rest.” He glared at me, trying to find a crack in my armor, but ultimately just sneered. “Good. Keep it that way.” He turned and stormed out of the clinic. I spent a week under the healer’s care. The moment my wound closed up, I demanded to be discharged. The day the Alpha King’s escort was coming was drawing near, and I didn’t want any complications. On the day of my release, it wasn’t my mother who came to pick me up, but James’s Beta, David Mercer. The car didn’t head back to the Packhouse. Instead, it pulled up outside an exclusive private VIP lounge. “Miss Emily, Alpha James is waiting for you inside,” David said respectfully. I frowned but got out of the car. When I pushed the VIP room door open, the dim lights revealed a room filled with the heavy scent of alcohol and smoke. James sat in the center, with Sophia clinging weakly to his chest. Opposite them sat a bulky, greasy-looking man with a disgusting leer on his face. It was Marcus Reed, a notorious scumbag in the city. He was a lone wolf who ran underground businesses, interested in nothing but money and women. The moment I entered, Marcus’s eyes lit up, his gaze roaming shamelessly over my body. “Ah, so this is Emily? A real beauty.” My stomach churned. I looked coldly at James. “What is the meaning of this?” James flicked his cigarette ash, his tone incredibly casual. “Because of the forum scandal, some Council members are trying to impeach Sophia. She needs a win to prove herself. Mr. Reed here is willing to sign a major contract with us. Didn’t you say you don’t owe me anything anymore? Have a few drinks with Mr. Reed tonight, help Sophia secure this contract, and then your debt to the Moonhowl Pack will be fully paid.” I stared at him in utter disbelief. To pave the way for Sophia, to squeeze every last drop of value out of me, he was willing to throw me to a notorious predator? “James, you make me sick.” I turned to leave. “Stop right there!” James’s voice was like ice. “Emily, if you dare walk out that door today, I will freeze all your accounts and kick you out of the Moonhowl Pack. You are an orphan. Without us, you are nothing but a stray dog.”

Emily Carter POV My feet froze in place. It wasn’t because I was afraid of being kicked out of the Moonhowl Pack. It was because if I had a total fallout with James right now, the alliance with the Alpha King might fall through. I had to endure this for just two more weeks. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and sat down at the very edge of the sofa. Seeing my submission, a cold smirk of triumph flashed in James’s eyes. “Mr. Reed, I leave Emily in your hands. Enjoy your chat.” James stood up, wrapping his arm around Sophia’s waist as they walked out. At the door, Sophia looked back at me, her lips curling into a wicked, triumphant grin. The heavy door shut, blocking out all outside noise. Marcus immediately slid closer, his suffocating mix of cheap cologne and alcohol making me gag. “Emily, don’t be so cold. Alpha James practically gave you to me. Stick with me, and I promise you a good life.” He poured a glass of wine and held it in front of my face. “Come on, have a drink. Let’s get friendly.” I pushed his hand away coldly. “I don’t drink. Mr. Reed, just because James is crazy doesn’t mean you have to be.” Marcus’s face darkened, but then he let out a filthy chuckle. “I like feisty girls. Today, you’re drinking this wine whether you want to or not!” He suddenly lunged, grabbing my jaw with brute force and forcing the wine down my throat. I fought back wildly, spilling most of it over my clothes, but a small gulp still went down. Marcus let go, grinning wickedly. “There we go. There’s a little ‘extra ingredient’ in that glass. You’ll find out how good I am in a minute.” My heart sank. The drug hit me incredibly fast. Within minutes, my body started burning up, my limbs felt like lead, and my vision blurred. Grinning like a maniac, Marcus began to unbuckle his belt, lunging at me. “Get off me!” I bit down hard on my tongue, the sharp pain bringing a brief moment of clarity. As Marcus came at me, I grabbed a heavy crystal ashtray from the coffee table and slammed it into his temple with all my remaining strength. “Ah!” Marcus screamed, clutching his bleeding head as he collapsed onto the couch. I seized the opportunity to stumble out of the room, running for my life. The drug was getting stronger. My steps were uneven, and I almost fell several times. The wound on my left shoulder tore open from the frantic movement, blood soaking through my bandage, but I couldn’t care less about the pain. I didn’t even know how I managed to escape the venue, hail a cab, and make it back to the Packhouse. But when I pushed the front doors open, what welcomed me wasn’t my mother’s concern, but an interrogation. The living room was brightly lit. James sat in the middle of the sofa, his face livid. Sophia stood beside him, looking smug. And Marcus Reed’s parents were pointing at me, screaming at the top of their lungs. “Alpha James, we came to negotiate a partnership out of respect for you! And this little bitch dared to assault my son! You must give us justice today, or we will take this to the Council and put her on trial!” I collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily, my body burning like fire. “He drugged me.” I rasped. “Drugged?!” Marcus’s mother shrieked. “My son can have any woman he wants! Why would he drug you? It’s obvious you tried to seduce him, and when it failed, you violently attacked him!” Sophia chimed in at the perfect moment. “Exactly, Emily. Mr. Reed is so wealthy, why would he do such a thing? You must have lost your temper again. Just apologize to them.” I lifted my head, staring directly at James. “James, do you believe me?” James looked at me, a complex flash of emotion crossing his eyes. But in the end, his voice was cold and detached. “Emily, you’ve disappointed me. I gave you a chance to serve the Moonhowl Pack, and you repaid us by almost turning the Reed family into our enemies.” He stood up, looking down at me as if I were a piece of irredeemable garbage. “Since you refuse to behave, don’t blame me for being ruthless. I will have to punish you according to pack law!” Pack law. The punishment of the Moonhowl Pack was a whip lined with silver thorns. I stared at him in utter horror, my heart completely dying in that very second. “James, I still have a fresh stab wound…” my voice was hoarse. “You brought that on yourself!” James snapped coldly. “Kneel!” Two werewolf warriors stepped forward, forcing me down onto my knees. James took the silver-thorned whip. Without a single trace of hesitation, he brought it down hard across my back. Flesh tore. I bit my lip so hard it bled, refusing to let out a single scream. With every strike, a spray of blood flew, accompanied by the agonizing burn of silver. By the tenth strike, my back was a bloody mess. Combined with the reopened stab wound on my shoulder, blood completely stained the carpet. I lay on the floor like a dying dog, finding it painful even to breathe. “Throw her in the basement,” James tossed the bloody whip aside, his voice devoid of any warmth. “No food or water without my permission. Let her reflect on what she did!” The heavy basement door slammed shut. Complete darkness swallowed me. Curled up in the cold, damp corner, feeling my life slowly slipping away, my soul felt a strange sense of liberation. James Whitfield, in this life, I have finally paid you back, with interest. There were only three days left until the Alpha King’s arrival.

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My boyfriend, Austin Miller, always called me by his ex-girlfriend’s name. On my birthday, when he handed me a gift, the words slipped out of his mouth: “Summer, this is your favorite shade of lipstick.” When he accompanied me to the hospital for an IV drip, he asked: “Summer, does it hurt?” Even on Valentine’s Day, as he held me by the waist in the dark, he whispered: “Summer, just relax.” Every single time, I corrected him with rising anger: “My name is Sera, Austin. Not Summer.” Over time, Austin began to pause for a solid two seconds before calling my name. Eventually, he would manage to get it right: “Sera.” I thought he had finally trained himself to forget her. Until Summer Reed, his ex, joined our company. And just like that, he started slipping up again. Even when he went down on one knee, holding a ring in front of me, he blurted out: “Summer, will you marry me!” But this time, I didn’t get angry. I didn’t correct him. I stopped forcing him to get my name right altogether.

When Austin realized what he had said, his face went completely blank. He scrambled to his feet, trying to reach out to me, but he still hesitated for two seconds before speaking. “Sera, I…” An overwhelming wave of irony washed over me. Even in a moment like this, he still had to calculate before addressing me. I knew exactly what he was going to say. It was just a habit. He was too nervous. After three years together, I was sick to death of his excuses. I took a step back, dodging his hand. “Save it.” “We’re done, Austin. Let’s break up.” “No…” Austin tried to grab my arm. But the commotion had already drawn our coworkers over. This was our annual company retreat, and seeing a proposal, everyone instantly lost their minds. “Oh my god! Austin is actually proposing at the retreat!” “Summer! I had no idea you and Austin were together! Why didn’t you tell us?” I turned around and saw Summer standing not far behind me. My figure had been completely hidden by the trees along the pathway. From a distance, it really did look like Austin was kneeling right in front of her. Summer was covering her mouth, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and pure joy. Our coworkers swarmed her, cheering and pushing her toward Austin. Someone pushing past aggressively shoved me aside. “Hey, they’re proposing here! Why are you standing in the middle like a total third wheel?” I stumbled. My long dress was stepped on, and my styled hair got caught on someone’s jacket zipper, ripping painfully. I was shoved and squeezed out of the crowd, looking utterly pathetic. By the time I managed to look up, the two of them were surrounded by a thick circle of cheering people. Summer, wearing a white lace dress, stood in the center like a glowing bride waiting for her happily ever after. And I, like everyone else, was just a random spectator watching their beautiful moment. Through the gaps in the crowd, my eyes met Austin’s. His expression was incredibly complicated. I saw his lips part, as if he wanted to shout an explanation. But looking at Summer, who was crying tears of joy, he swallowed his words. He forced a smile and slid the ring—the ring meant for me—onto her ring finger. I let out a bitter laugh. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t demand answers. I just turned around silently, walking away from the celebration that was supposed to be mine. The sky grew dark, and the wind blowing off the river was freezing.

I walked across the bridge alone. My mind kept flashing back to how excited I had been when I accidentally saw Austin’s proposal plans. I had booked the makeup artist a month in advance. I ordered the perfect dress online. I spent eight hours at the salon getting my hair done. Last night, I was so nervous I couldn’t even sleep. I had hugged my blanket, trying to picture Austin’s face when he proposed. He was always so calm and collected. Would he stutter? Would his ears turn bright red? No matter what, I had planned to grab the ring, throw myself into his arms, and scream: “Yes! A million times yes!” If the sunset over the river was just right, the light would coat us in gold, just like in those cheesy romance movies. Maybe a passerby would take a picture of us. I wanted to use it as the cover of our wedding album, placing it in the most visible spot of our future home. Thinking about it back then, I had actually laughed out loud with sweet anticipation. The harsh honk of a car horn snapped me back to reality. Now, with ruined hair and dusty footprints covering my dress, I was walking alone in the dark. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Austin. [Sera, I’m so sorry.] I stopped walking. [But let’s just go with it for now. Summer already accepted in front of everyone. Don’t make it humiliating for her.] [I’ll explain to everyone later that it was just a dare.] I stared at those lines for a long time. But I wasn’t surprised. The second Austin said the wrong name, I knew exactly how he would handle it. It was just like Valentine’s Day, when the massive bouquet of red roses he ordered was accidentally delivered to Summer’s desk. When I wanted to go claim it, he had gently held my hand down. “I’m sorry, Sera. I put the wrong recipient name by accident.” “Just let Summer keep them. Taking them back in front of the whole office would make her look bad.” Another notification popped up in the company retreat group chat. [Austin is buying drinks for the engagement party! Everyone meet at the hotel’s second-floor restaurant now!] This wasn’t a spontaneous decision. It was part of his original proposal plan. Since he had proposed to the wrong person, he decided to just let Summer have everything else too. That was always Austin’s logic. Someone posted a photo of the dinner table. It was the hotel’s highest-tier menu, and the main course was King Crab. I am severely allergic to seafood. Austin could never remember that. But it happened to be Summer’s absolute favorite. Maybe this was the universe guiding him back to where he belonged. I closed the app and opened Uber. Whatever the case, I was officially bowing out. I unlocked the door to our apartment. The first thing I saw was our couple’s portrait sitting on the entryway cabinet. My footsteps faltered. Austin hated taking pictures. I had to beg him for months to get that photo. I remembered the day we moved in. I ran around the apartment holding the frame, trying to find the perfect spot. Austin had watched me, shaking his head. “It’s just a photo, Sera. What does it matter where it goes?” I had turned around and looked at him seriously. “It matters! I want everyone who walks through that door to see how happy we are the very second they enter!” I chose the spot right by the door. The hallway light would hit it perfectly the moment the door opened. It was my only comfort after working late-night overtime in this crowded city, trying to build a life with him. But was I really happy? I picked up the frame, running my fingers over the glass. Even in our couple’s photo, Austin looked stiff and emotionless.

Suddenly, the dozens of photos my coworkers had spammed in the group chat rushed into my mind. In every single one of them, Austin was holding Summer, smiling with a warmth I hadn’t seen in years. Maybe I was the only one who ever felt happy in this relationship. I placed the photo face down on the cabinet and started packing my bags. My clothes, my shoes… When I got to my jewelry, my hands paused. The necklace hanging in the center of the rack was the birthday gift Austin gave me last year. I cleared out all the gifts we had exchanged over the years. Since we were breaking up, there was no point in keeping any of it. For the first and second year, our gifts were mutual and thoughtful. But for the third year, there was nothing from Austin. Not for our anniversary, and not for Valentine’s Day. Because he had “accidentally” addressed them to Summer. I sent Austin a text. [I threw away the things you gave me. The things you bought for me are in the bedroom closet.] [Do whatever you want with them.] By the time I finished packing, he still hadn’t replied. I opened Snapchat. The party had just ended, and everyone was raving about how fun it was. Summer had posted a story. [You said she was just a compromise, a responsibility you couldn’t shake. It’s okay. I will wait for you forever…] No views, no replies yet. She had customized her settings so only I could see it. I tapped the heart icon, closed my phone, and rolled my suitcase toward the door. What they did next was none of my business. But the moment I opened the door, I ran straight into a panting Austin. Seeing me, he let out a sigh of relief. But in the next second, his brows furrowed, his voice filled with annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? I was looking all over for you.” I didn’t answer. I just found it hilarious. Looking all over for me? More like he had finished his fancy dinner, accompanied Summer through the entire celebration, and only came looking for me when he finally had some free time. Austin pushed past me into the apartment. Under the bright hallway light, he finally noticed my suitcase. His face fell. “Where do you think you’re going this late?” I looked at him, completely expressionless. “I’m moving out. I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later.” Hearing this, Austin didn’t beg me to stay. Instead, a familiar look of impatience washed over his face. It was the exact same look he gave me whenever I got upset over him calling me Summer, back when he would half-heartedly promise he didn’t love his ex anymore. He took a deep breath, trying to play the patient partner, and pulled the ring box from his pocket. “Fine. I swear I only love you, okay?” “Today was genuinely an accident. And I only took the team to dinner because the deposit was non-refundable. I didn’t want to waste the money.” He brushed it off as if he had just grabbed a casual burger with coworkers. “I explained everything to Summer, too. Look, I even got the ring back.” “Let’s just drop it.” Austin grabbed my hand, trying to force the ring onto my ring finger. But it was incredibly loose. The moment I let my hand drop, the ring slid right off my finger and clinked onto the floor, rolling to Austin’s feet. The air went dead silent. Looking at Austin’s stunned face, I let out a mocking laugh. “Another accident? Did you get the wrong size when you ordered it too?” When that ring was on Summer’s finger, it had fit flawlessly. Like it was custom-made for her. For once, Austin looked guilty. He picked up the ring, coughing to hide his embarrassment. “It was an oversight. I’ll get it resized tomorrow.” “Don’t bother,” I cut him off coldly.

“When I said we’re breaking up, I meant it. We’re done, Austin.” Austin froze. Slowly, he put the ring back in its box. As he snapped the lid shut, the guilt on his face evaporated, replaced by his usual cold, indifferent mask. “Sera, I said I’d get it fixed.” He looked at me like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Every time something minor happens, you threaten to break up and run away. It’s getting really exhausting.” My breathing hitched. Suddenly, I remembered the night of our project launch party. I had won the grand prize in the company raffle: a fully sponsored, week-long paid vacation. I had been ecstatic. I hadn’t taken a day off in three months, and I hadn’t seen my parents in two years. But after I booked my flight and my parents took time off work to wait for my arrival, HR called me. They told me my prize had already been claimed. “Austin came by and redeemed it. He said he had your permission to transfer the vacation voucher to your department’s new intern, Summer Reed.” When I confronted him with tear-filled eyes, Austin didn’t even look up from his laptop. “Oh, that. I must have written down the wrong name by mistake.” “Then go get it back!” I had screamed, grabbing his phone out of his hand. But the screen was open to Summer’s Instagram post. [A fully paid vacation to a music festival! Best boss ever! Thank you, A~] It was a slap to the face. My hands shook as I held the screen up to him. “An accident? You call this an accident?” Austin didn’t apologize. Instead, he blamed me with chilling coldness. “The mistake was already made. I just maximized the utility.” “Giving incentives to subordinates builds my authority as a leader.” “Sera, you’ve been at this company long enough. Can you please start looking at the bigger picture?” I was driven mad by his hypocritical corporate speak. That was the first time I ever threatened to break up with him. Even when he called me Summer a thousand times, I had never thought about leaving. I stayed in a hotel for three days, but I didn’t receive a single text of apology. Eventually, I realized Austin only treated me this way because he knew how much I loved him. He knew I would always forgive him. He knew I had abandoned a stable job in my hometown and moved thousands of miles to this city just because he said he hated long-distance relationships. The day I crawled back home, he had a smirk of victory on his face. Taking my suitcase, he had said casually: “Don’t do that again. Be mature.” The Austin standing in front of me now looked exactly like he did that day. But this time, I wasn’t going to crawl back. I repeated myself, clearer and firmer than ever. “I am serious, Austin. We are over.” He slammed the door on his way out, leaving only a cold parting shot: “You are completely unstable right now. Get some professional help and calm down!” I didn’t care where he went. Summer’s Instagram story popped up immediately. [I always knew I was your first choice.] In the photo, the proposal ring was back on her finger, fitting perfectly. I liked the post. I took one last look at the apartment I had lovingly decorated piece by piece, and quietly shut the door behind me. The next morning at work, the two of them walked in together. The office erupted in congratulations. I ignored the noise, keeping my head down to work on my transition files. Since joining this company, I had closed deals worth over a hundred million dollars. Next week, I was scheduled to be promoted to Sales Director, which meant I would lead my own department and would no longer have to work under Austin. Carrying my files, I stood up and ran right into Austin.

His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something. I walked right past him without a word. I walked straight to HR. “Jerry, here is my promotion paperwork. Let me know if anything is missing.” Jerry, the HR rep, flipped through my file with a confused expression. “But your department’s promotion slot has already been submitted.” “What?” I froze. “Austin submitted it yesterday. He said Summer Reed was the main contributor to the high-value project, so he requested the promotion slot go to her. She’s being fast-tracked to Team Lead.” Team Lead was my current position. Austin was literally stealing my hard work and success to pave a path for his ex-girlfriend. My phone buzzed. [Summer helped cover up the proposal mix-up yesterday. Clarifying it publicly would destroy her reputation.] [Think of this promotion as compensation for her. Your promotion can wait until next quarter.] I stared at the screen, a blinding rage erupting in my chest. I was furious at Austin’s utter shamelessness. But I was even more furious at myself for loving him so blindly in the past, allowing him to treat my career like his personal playground. But this time, I wasn’t going to take it lying down. Without a second thought, I filed a formal complaint disputing Summer’s promotion. Since I had proof that I was the sole creator and executor of the project, HR verified and rejected her promotion in less than half a day. During that time, Austin sent me dozens of angry messages. I ignored every single one of them. When the notification popped up on my computer screen confirming my own promotion was approved, I finally let out a long breath. My phone lit up with a final text from Austin: [Are you happy now that you’ve thrown your little fit? Make sure you come home early tonight. Don’t make things uglier than they already are.] Even now, Austin thought I was just acting out of jealousy. With a few taps, I blocked his number and sent him straight to my blacklist. Then, I went back to my temporary hotel room. The next morning. After the sales department’s morning meeting, I was asked to stay behind to discuss my transition to Sales Director. But the moment I stepped out of the conference room, the atmosphere in the office had completely changed. When people saw me, they looked at me like I was a piece of trash, quickly lowering their heads and whispering as they hurried past. Snatches of their conversation drifted over. “So she’s the homewrecker?” “She seemed so professional. I had no idea she was that kind of person…” A terrible feeling crept into my chest. I hurried back to my desk and opened WhatsApp. The company group chat had been completely spammed by Summer. [A certain Team Lead, Sera Vance, has repeatedly harassed and tried to seduce my fiancé. When she failed, she maliciously sabotaged my promotion out of spite. How can the company allow someone so toxic to work here!] The comments underneath were brutal. “No wonder she didn’t show up to the engagement dinner. She was jealous!” Summer had uploaded dozens of cropped screenshots of my chat history with Austin. She had deleted all of Austin’s replies, making it look like I was unilaterally begging and harassing him. To avoid office gossip, Austin and I had never made our relationship public. But since everyone had just eaten his free engagement dinner, it was obvious whose side they were going to take. The rumors had been brewing for an hour, with thousands of messages flying back and forth. Yet, Austin, the co-star of this drama, had said absolutely nothing to defend me. In fact, those screenshots were taken from his perspective. My stomach turned. I started typing rapidly, trying to draft a clarification. Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted at the entrance of the office. Summer pushed past the coworkers trying to stop her and marched straight to my desk. Before I could even react, a sharp slap landed squarely on my cheek. “You cheap homewrecker! Seducing my fiancé and you still have the nerve to show up to work!”

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My best friend, Lila, threw the bridal bouquet right into my arms. All the werewolves turned their eyes to my boyfriend, Caleb, the Alpha of the Grayfang Pack. “Caleb! Go for it! Marry her!” “Eight years, Alpha! What are you waiting for?” The crowd pushed Caleb toward me. He was wearing a silver-gray groomsman suit, looking as handsome as the man I’d loved for eight years. My heart raced as I gripped the ribbon of the bouquet. But he just smiled, reached out, and pulled the bouquet from my hands. Then he turned and handed it to Serena, an Omega standing nearby. The little Omega blushed, her ears flushing pink. “Thank you, Alpha Caleb,” she whispered. “She caught it first. We shouldn’t steal from a young girl,” he said, rubbing my hair with his usual tenderness. “Next time, I’ll take you to the Silvermoon Forest and pick you a whole basket of fresh white roses. They’re much prettier than this.” I looked at the joy and shyness in Serena’s eyes and sneered inwardly. Caleb didn’t know there would be no next time. My wedding was in exactly seven days. 0

Lila’s face fell instantly, her wolf ears twitching in anger. I grabbed her hand before she could slap him. She turned to me, her eyes redder than mine, her voice shaking with rage. “That bitch did it on purpose! I told all the bridesmaids that the bouquet was meant for you…” “Lila,” I interrupted gently, squeezing her wrist. “The wedding isn’t over yet. Don’t ruin the mood.” The crowd’s attention had already shifted from Caleb and me. Following the bouquet, everyone was staring at Serena’s delicate face. She held the flowers, looking up timidly, stealing a quick glance at Caleb before lowering her head. Caleb had already retreated to the edge of the crowd, as if the public humiliation he had just dealt me was nothing but a trivial matter. The priest, Elder Marcus of the Silvermoon Pack, was experienced. With a few witty blessings, he got the crowd cheering again. Lila gave a bitter glare, took her groom Ethan’s arm, and finished the ceremony. During the reception, I sat at the head table, enduring sympathetic and curious stares from all directions. Caleb was at another table, laughing and drinking with his Grayfang Pack brothers. Serena sat right next to him, her shoulder practically glued to his arm. That was way too close for a secretary. She wasn’t even supposed to be a bridesmaid. Caleb had claimed they needed an extra bridesmaid at the last minute and put her in. He often took her to pack events, saying she was a capable Omega who helped with pack business. He even brought her to Lila’s wedding. When Lila and her groom came to our table to greet us, she hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, “That Omega has been throwing herself at Caleb for six months. I had her investigated—she plays dirty. Caleb is…” “Lila,” I patted her back, my fingers brushing the pearls on her wedding dress. “You’re the most beautiful bride today. Don’t let bad vibes ruin it.” She snorted but dropped it. When the party ended and guests started to leave, Caleb walked over. “Ready to go?” He naturally took my purse, his other hand reaching to drape over my shoulder in a comforting gesture. I slipped away slightly, avoiding his touch. “You’ve been drinking. I called a pack driver.” He didn’t mind and nodded. “Fair enough.” The car drove into the night. My face was blurred in the window—makeup flawless, but unable to hide the deep exhaustion in my eyes. “Serena reached for the bouquet first tonight. She’s a young Omega, and it’s her first time at a major pack wedding. It’s normal she wanted some good luck,” he said casually. “I was just returning it to the rightful person. Don’t take it to heart.” I didn’t reply, just watched the forest road lamps flash by. After a moment, he looked up from his phone. “Are you mad?” He leaned closer, his fingers running through my hair, gently rubbing the back of my neck like soothing a grumpy pup. “Didn’t we agree? Once we secure the northern mining territory, we’ll have our wedding. I’ll invite the entire pack to witness it, okay?” A wave of bitterness washed over me. It was always like this. Using a gentle tone to make a vague promise of “next time.” And then expecting me to just let it go. “Caleb,” I said, looking at his reflection in the window. “Yeah?” “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” 0

“Lila and I made a vow when we were kids,” I said seriously. “Whoever gets married first, the other must get married within seven days.” “We promised to wear the bridesmaid dresses we made for each other and be the first to witness each other’s happiness.” The car fell silent. His hand on my neck stopped. “A childhood joke, and you took it seriously?” He laughed, his hand moving again in a dismissive rub. “Getting pack territory approvals and Elder Council clearance isn’t that simple. It takes six months to a year of prep.” “We’ll plan it properly. I promise you the perfect wedding. What’s the rush?” He didn’t explain why he refused to publicly promise to marry me. He just skipped straight to “planning the perfect wedding.” I remembered a month ago when Lila excitedly dragged me to her workshop to try on the bridesmaid dress she made. When I put it on, Lila’s eyes lit up, but then she got emotional. “Lyra, you look stunning in this. I made this just for you. When you get married, I’ll design an even better wedding gown!” Caleb was there too. He had been looking down, replying to Snapchat messages from Serena. Hearing Lila, he looked up, smiled, and said, “It looks nice.” Then his eyes went right back to his screen, his fingers typing rapidly. At that moment, besides feeling happy for my best friend, I felt a deep chill for my own eight-year, fruitless relationship. The car pulled up to our villa in Grayfang Pack territory. Caleb unbuckled his seatbelt. Thinking our little chat had cleared the air, he leaned in for a possessive kiss. I placed my hand against his shoulder, stopping him. The Alpha’s aura stiffened for a second. “I’m tired, Caleb.” He stared at me, silent for a few seconds. Finally, he patted my shoulder, his tone carrying his usual condescending patience. “Being a bridesmaid is exhausting. Get some rest.” “Serena said she couldn’t call an Uber back to her pack. It’s not safe for an Omega. I’m going back to give her a ride.” “Okay,” I said flatly, not even looking at him. He didn’t leave immediately. He seemed to be waiting for me to say “drive safe” or complain about him going out so late. But I just pushed the door open and got out. The engine sound faded into the distance. Locking the door, I collapsed onto the couch. It took me a long time before I dragged myself to the bedroom. Passing the nursery, I paused. We had planned this room when we bought the house four years ago. It was supposed to be for our future pups, but now it was filled with junk. I walked in and pulled a dusty box out from the crib. Inside were his handwritten love letters, pack festival tickets, polaroids from our hunting trips in the snowy woods… At the very bottom was a photo from our college pack mixer. He was carrying me on his back under a cherry blossom tree, my arms wrapped around his neck. On the back, he had written: I, Caleb, will carry you on my back for the rest of our lives. I promise. The dim light of the hallway hit those words like a silent slap in the face. Downstairs, I heard a car pull into the garage. A moment later, the door opened softly. Caleb stood at the doorway, smelling strongly of Serena’s sweet perfume. “Not asleep yet?” I didn’t turn around, still kneeling by the crib. “No.” “Why did you dig all this out?” he asked casually. “Feeling nostalgic?” I didn’t answer. I just asked quietly, “Did you drop her off safely?” He paused, then explained, “Yeah. She lives near the pack border, Ubers don’t really go out there.” “Oh.” I lowered my head, carefully packing the photos away. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed,” he said, reaching out to pull me up. I didn’t take his hand. Instead, I pushed myself up, my legs numb and wobbly. “Caleb.” “Yeah?” He stopped. “Let’s break up.” 0

He froze for two seconds, then chuckled. He loosened his tie, his tone carrying a hint of irritation. “Still thinking about that bouquet? Don’t be petty.” It was that same condescending tone he used when I was “throwing a tantrum.” “Fine, I’ll order you a bigger bouquet tomorrow, okay? Go wash up. I have an important pack meeting tomorrow morning.” He turned toward the bathroom. “Within a week,” I said to his back, my voice quiet but crystal clear. “I am getting married.” His hand froze on the bathroom doorknob. A few seconds later, he turned around. His mask of casual patience was gone. “Lyra, stop playing games.” He rubbed his temples, his Alpha pressure slipping out slightly. “Marriage is a big deal. You don’t just do it out of spite.” “October 28th,” I added. “The venue is booked. The dress is ready.” He let out a cold laugh. “Did Lila get in your head again today? Just because she rushed into a marriage doesn’t mean the whole world should be reckless.” “Lyra, wake up. Don’t let her influence you. We’ve been together for so many years…” “Caleb,” I interrupted, looking him dead in the eye, my gaze completely calm. “The invitations are being printed tomorrow.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Lyra, do you think this is going to work? It just makes you look childish and unreasonable!” “My career is peaking right now. Securing the mining territory will elevate the Grayfang Pack. Marriage right now would only distract me and ruin my plans.” “Are you really that desperate to get married?” His words were heavy, designed to suffocate. In the past, this tone would have made me panic, make me apologize and back down. But now, there was only peace. His attention was indeed expensive. He had to give it to the mining project, and to his sweet Omega secretary. Late-night texts, birthday surprises, and weekend spa trips under the guise of “business trips”… What was left for me, his girlfriend, was practically nothing. I met his gaze and nodded. “Yes. My friends are all married. I want a husband too.” With that, I walked into the bedroom. On the nightstand lay a bridal magazine from six months ago. The cover read: The Perfect 3-Month Wedding Prep Guide. I had bought it excitedly back then, but after he said “no rush,” I never opened it again. In the dark, I stared at the ceiling. My phone buzzed. It was Lila on Snapchat: Ugh, can’t sleep. I’m so mad thinking about that Omega. What is wrong with Caleb? We agreed our weddings would be a week apart, remember? Who knew your man would be such a blockhead. The bouquet was literally in your hands and he still didn’t get the hint! You’ve been together eight years, not eight months! Whatever. This is the one time I’ll let you break our promise. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I typed: When have I ever broken a promise to you? 0

Caleb moved out to his office penthouse. Probably because my sudden wedding plans suffocated him, and he wanted some peace. Good. It gave us both space. I quietly handled everything. I listed our villa on the pack real estate market. The afternoon I handed the keys to the agent, I was packing up some leftover belongings. I found a folder for the mining project tucked inside an old magazine. It was the one Caleb had been working on. After a moment’s hesitation, I decided to drop it off at his penthouse. When I got there, the door was shut, but I could hear laughter inside. He wasn’t alone. I raised my hand to knock. Then, a familiar, sweet voice echoed from inside, sounding helpless. “Alpha Caleb, it’s all my fault. It was my first time catching a bouquet, I didn’t know.” “Now the pack forums are going crazy. A bunch of pack members asked me if we were… you know.” “You have to clarify it in the group chat, or I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face.” My hand froze in midair. Before Caleb could speak, one of his pack brothers laughed teasingly. “Come on, Serena. Do you really want Caleb to clarify, or are you just trying to get him to say something else?” A wave of suggestive laughter followed. Serena whined “Oh, stop it,” but there was no real anger in her voice. “Alright, stop teasing her,” Caleb’s voice sounded warm and gentle. “Don’t worry about it. People will forget in a few days.” People will forget in a few days… Those words triggered a memory. Years ago, I went to his office to help out. He forgot himself and casually put his arm around my shoulder. An Elder walked in and saw us. That afternoon, Caleb made a very dry clarification in the pack group chat, telling everyone not to misunderstand and to focus on work. Back then, I understood. To avoid gossip, I stopped going to his office. But now, my fingers trembled. He didn’t hate office romance. He just hated it when I was the one seen with him. Because I was just an ordinary werewolf with no background, of no help to his career. Another friend asked, “But seriously, Caleb, what’s going on with Lyra? I got her wedding invitation this morning. That came out of nowhere!” A brief silence followed. Caleb let out a cold, humorless chuckle. “Let her play her game.” “I usually indulge her on little things. But this time, she needs to learn that throwing tantrums won’t get her what she wants.” “Whoa,” someone joked. “So the groom is planning to stand her up?” Caleb didn’t deny it. Then, another friend spoke up hesitantly. “Caleb, is this really smart? You and Lyra have been together forever. We’ve been waiting for this wedding…” He paused, then joked half-seriously, “Unless… you actually have other plans? Like… our Serena here?” Serena let out a soft, giggling laugh. “Don’t tease me like that. Alpha Caleb… knows what he’s doing.”

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