Category: English

Preston said he would propose on our fourth anniversary. But this is our eighth year together. He claims to love me, yet he’s relentlessly pursuing a younger intern from his office. To please her, he even outbid everyone at a charity auction just to snatch away my mother’s only heirloom. “Misty has never seen anything nice; she’s obsessed with this. Just let her have it this once. I’ll make it up to you later.” “Fine.” This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. Instead, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. “Elias, what you said last time… does it still stand?” He was silent for a second, then repeated it clearly: “Dump Preston. Marry me.” “Okay. I’ll do it.” 1 Elias was clearly stunned. We sat in silence for two full minutes. “Are you serious?” he finally asked, his voice low. “Yes.” He let out a deep, dark chuckle. “I’ll be waiting.” “Who were you talking to?” Preston suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, startling me. I quickly locked my phone and shook my head. “Still upset? Look, you know Misty doesn’t have the privileges you grew up with. You can afford to be generous.” “Right.” Preston’s phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. He looked down to reply, a soft, genuine smile playing on his lips. It was a message from Misty. The photo was impossible to miss. My mother’s necklace was draped around her neck, resting right against her deep cleavage. The photo was a suggestive close-up, showing the lace of her lingerie. “Preston.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed, mesmerized by the screen. He even let out a small, enamored laugh, completely ignoring me. “Preston!” I raised my voice, and he snapped his head up. “What? What is it?” “When are you actually going to propose?” Preston tucked his phone away, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Aren’t we… still young? There’s no rush.” “Youth is for having fun. Since you were so ‘generous’ today, the guys threw a party to celebrate my ‘gracious’ wife. Want to come?” His eyes told me everything. He was desperately hoping I’d say no. “I—” He cut me off, hugging me tightly. “Actually, I’ll tell them you’re tired. You hate the smell of smoke and booze anyway. Just wait for me at home, okay?” I looked down, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. Preston took it as a happy “yes.” Having achieved his goal, he didn’t waste another word. He grabbed his phone and headed for the door. As he left, I saw him zooming in on that photo of Misty. I took my robe and caught my reflection in the mirror. Average body. Average face. Misty and I were clearly from two different worlds, two different stages of life. At midnight, one of Preston’s friends, Jax, posted an update. It was a video. The music was deafening, the VIP lounge dripping with excess. Young socialites were cheering on the dance floor. Then, the music paused for a second. I heard a familiar voice. “Jax, I think I’m going to propose to Misty.” It was Preston. I set my phone down, stared at the ceiling, and took a deep breath. Our relationship survived the seven-year itch, but it couldn’t survive one cold winter. 2 I was about to sleep when I got a text from Jax. A simple line: Hey, can you bring some stomach meds over? Preston’s dying here. Preston doesn’t have stomach issues. Neither does Jax. Based on what I’d heard in the video, it wasn’t hard to guess what was really happening. I didn’t know if Jax sent that because Preston asked him to, or if it was a trap. When I arrived at the club, I leaned against my car for a long time. My legs were numb by the time I finally found the courage to walk inside. I definitely picked the wrong moment to enter. Preston was down on one knee. “Misty, I truly love you.” “Misty, will you marry me?” “Misty, I want you to be mine forever.” The love in his eyes was overflowing. Misty stood across from him, hands over her mouth in shock. She was beautiful—the exact kind of “innocent but sexy” girl that was Preston’s ultimate weakness. “Preston… yes! Yes, I will!” Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. The ring wasn’t the centerpiece. It was my mother’s heirloom necklace they were using as a “promise gift.” Preston, you really are a piece of work. The two of them kissed under the spotlight. A perfect couple. A beautiful scene. Except, out of the dozen people in the room—some drinking, some smoking, some on their phones—not a single person clapped. Preston noticed. His expression soured. “What’s wrong with you guys? Cheer!” His friends all looked down, suddenly very busy with their drinks. Preston scanned the room, his eyes turning cold. “You’re proposing to her? What about Claire?” Jax asked, breaking the silence. Preston licked his lips and patted Jax on the shoulder with a smirk. “Jax, do you even know what it feels like to have your heart skip a beat?” “Claire has been with you for eight years, man.” “Shh…” Preston hushed him. “Don’t ruin the mood. For the last eight years, I was blind. I thought that was love. But after meeting Misty, I finally know what real passion is. I’d give her the world! But Claire?” He looked around, trying to justify himself to the group. “Claire is high-born, wealthy. She doesn’t need ‘saving.’ But Misty? Misty only has me. Do you get it?” “Every time I go home and see Claire’s face, I just feel… bored.” “Sure, Claire is ‘good.’ But she’s not the one I want to marry.” Silence. No one backed him up. “Preston… maybe we should just… forget the cheers… it’s okay,” Misty whispered. Crash! Preston smashed a glass on the floor. “I said, cheer!” Normally, when Preston lost his temper, everyone backed off. But this time, no one moved. I felt a strange sense of irony. Eight years ago, none of them liked us together. They hated me, the “spoiled rich girl,” and told Preston to dump me. Eight years later, they all saw me as family. Everyone except Preston. Clap. Clap. Clap. I clapped three times, slowly. All eyes snapped to me. Preston’s pupils shrank; panic flickered across his face. “You… what are you doing here?” Then, his face hardened. “Who told her to come?” I walked up to him. Misty immediately stepped in front of Preston, arms spread as if to “protect” him. She looked terrified, yet “brave.” Every man’s hero fantasy. “Claire, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault… please don’t blame him…” I reached out and snatched the necklace from around her neck. “Preston, didn’t anyone ever tell you? Proposing with a dead woman’s jewelry never ends well.” 3 “Don’t scare Misty. We’ll talk about this at home,” Preston said, reaching for his jacket, desperate to escape. “Preston, do I even have a home anymore?” His hand froze. He turned back, grabbing my arm to pull me out. Misty tried to follow, but Jax blocked her. The hallway lights were dim. I couldn’t even see Preston’s face clearly anymore. “Misty is young. Her only birthday wish was for a proposal. I had too much to drink, Claire. I wasn’t thinking.” When I didn’t reply, he pulled me into a hug. This was his routine—whenever I was mad, he’d use sweet words and physical affection to make it go away. And every time, I had forgiven him. He breathed against my ear. “Babe, don’t be mad.” He didn’t realize that this time, there was no coming back. “Fine. Come home with me right now.” “Okay! Let’s go home!” He started pulling me toward the exit. Misty was standing right by the door. I knew she could hear us. Three, two… Thud! The door flew open. Misty “collapsed” in the hallway. Preston was by her side in a heartbeat. “Misty!” “Preston, I’m okay… is Claire still mad?” Misty grabbed a large bottle of 116-proof bourbon from a passing tray. “I’ll make it up to her.” She tilted her head back and began chugging the harsh liquor. She was willing to pay a high price to win back Preston’s attention. “Misty, stop!” Preston wrenched the bottle away, looking devastated. “Does she forgive me now?” Misty whimpered. Preston whirled around and screamed at me. “Say something!” The man who was just whispering “babe” in my ear was gone. The mask had slipped. “I never blamed you,” I said calmly. Misty coughed, reaching a hand out toward me. “If you’re not mad, can I have the necklace back? It was a gift from Preston.” I clutched my bag. “This is my mother’s heirloom.” “But it’s a gift from him…” Misty’s lip trembled. “I guess you still hate me.” She grabbed the bottle again. Preston went ballistic. “Claire, give it to her!” He lunged for my bag. “This belonged to my mother! Can’t you see she’s doing this on purpose?” Preston wouldn’t listen. He fought me for the bag like a rabid dog. “Can’t you stop being so cynical? Misty isn’t like you!” “She’s just a girl, Claire! Stop bullying her!” He was too strong. I lost the tug-of-war. He ripped the bag away, and as Misty reached for it too, the necklace snagged. The string snapped. Silver beads scattered everywhere, bouncing off the floor like rain. I stared at the two beads left in my hand. Misty looked up at me, a tiny, triumphant smirk on her lips that only I could see. “Claire, have you had enough?!” Preston roared. He blamed me for everything. He saw through the world, but he couldn’t see through her. Maybe he realized he’d gone too far. He looked at the beads on the floor and reached out to touch my hair. “I… I’m sorry. I drank too much.” “Tomorrow. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow, okay?” Misty started retching from the alcohol. Preston scooped her up and ran for the exit. “Tomorrow at noon! I’ll take you shopping! I promise!” He ran so fast the wind brushed past my face. I leaned against the wall and laughed. What was the difference between me and those silver beads? A seemingly “whole” life, scattered into the dust in a single night. I didn’t want the necklace anymore. And I didn’t want Preston. I couldn’t promise to forget him instantly, but I could promise he’d never find me again. “Hello? Is this the airline? I need the next available flight to Charleston.” 4 The flight was in three days. I went back and packed. I took everything that was mine. Everything I couldn’t take, I burned. Our photo albums were in the nightstand, but there was one on Preston’s desk. He hadn’t been home in a while, so the desk was dusty, but the album was pristine. He must have been looking at it often. I picked it up to throw it in the fire, but photos fell out. They weren’t of us. They were of him and Misty. I remembered when Misty first visited. She said our wedding-style photos were “so pretty.” I guess they went and took their own set. I closed the album and put it back. The clock struck 5:00 PM. Preston had missed our “noon” date. Ping. A voice note from Elias Vane. “I sent the marriage contract to your place via courier. Just sign it.” I replied with an emoji. I turned around, and Preston was standing there. “Who are you talking to? You look so happy.” I shook my head and tried to walk past him. “Move.” He held out a hand. In it was a perfectly restored necklace. My mother’s necklace. “You… you found them?” He scratched his head. “Spent hours looking. Nearly went blind.” “So you didn’t show up at noon because you were looking for the beads?” “Duh.” He hugged me gently. “I’m exhausted. My back is killing me from crouching all day.” “There are two beads missing, though. You won’t be mad I’m late, will you?” I held the necklace, my vision blurring. Tears hit my palms. “Preston… thank you…” “What are you saying? You’re my fiancée.” I ran into the bedroom to get the beads I had saved. But when I compared them… the color was wrong. The necklace he gave me had a fake “antique” patina, but it wasn’t the same as the beads in my bag. I collapsed on the floor, sobbing silently. Preston, how long were you planning to lie to me? What am I to you? A voice came from the door. “Package for Claire Miller. Signature required.” Preston walked in, already tearing open the envelope. “What’s this? Some legal document?” My phone lit up. Elias: Did you get the contract? I looked up, my eyes locking with Preston’s.

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My two children’s last wish before they died was for our family of four to see the ocean. But the day before we left, their father vanished. My children passed away with that regret. I later saw a photo of him and his childhood friend, Kate, on Kate’s social media. The caption read: “A special birthday, with a special someone.” I turned around, packed my bags, and left. Then, Jensen came crying, begging me to stay. 1 Jensen loathed me. And by extension, he disliked the two children I bore him. All it took was a single phone call from his childhood friend, Kate, and he’d travel thousands of miles. But I had begged on my knees, my forehead bruised and bleeding. Still, he wouldn’t return to see our children one last time. I returned home, utterly exhausted. The house was brightly lit. I pushed open the door, a flicker of hope in my chest. I expected to see my two children running to greet me. Instead, I saw Jensen pressed against the sofa by Kate, intimate and oblivious. My hope dissolved, replaced by instant disappointment. Jensen looked momentarily flustered at my appearance, pushing Kate away. Ha. I sneered. My children’s bodies weren’t even cold yet. Jensen, who had been missing for half a month, had returned. And he was so eager to bring another woman home. Jensen had already braced himself for a scene, expecting me to throw a fit. But I showed no expression, not even bothering to glance at either of them. I went upstairs to retrieve my packed luggage. I had planned to leave early that morning. After all, this house was a wedding gift from Jensen’s grandfather for us, but Jensen rarely set foot in it. Mostly, it had been just me and our two children living here. I quickly came back downstairs. They were still talking on the sofa. The man who was usually expressionless now wore a tender look. It was only with Kate that he softened this way. With me, there was only endless indifference. They hadn’t noticed me. With Kate around, I was always invisible to Jensen. I had grown accustomed to it. The sound of my suitcase wheels caught Jensen’s attention. He watched me, his voice stiff. “Summer Jiang, what kind of drama is this now?” Kate looked over, a smirk playing on her lips. “Summer, darling, my blood sugar dropped, and I was just in the neighborhood. Jensen said it was convenient here, so he brought me. You don’t mind, do you?” Low blood sugar? I watched Jensen pouring tea, fetching water, and even peeling a candy to feed it into her mouth himself. Her lips brushed his fingertips, neither of them seeming to notice anything amiss. I lowered my eyes, remembering a family dinner when I’d forgotten to use a serving spoon to dish food for him. He’d simply dropped his chopsticks and refused to eat. Thinking of it now, I found it laughable. Love and indifference were starkly clear. I spoke, my voice raw with bitterness. “Let’s break up, Jensen.” 2 Even though we had once shared two children and a half-finished wedding, we hadn’t legally married, so it wasn’t technically a divorce. Jensen, assuming I was merely being jealous of Kate, dismissed it with a wave. “Still using these old tricks? Aren’t you tired?” “You know you can’t threaten me with your kids anymore, so now you’re trying to leverage our engagement?” Because of extreme emotional fluctuations during pregnancy, our twin boy and girl were born with illnesses. Two years ago, our son was diagnosed with ALS, and a year ago, our daughter was diagnosed with polio. The hospital issued one critical condition notice after another. I signed them until my hand went numb. But my children were so well-behaved, so considerate; they never cried out in pain in front of me and would even try to comfort me. They envied other children who had fathers. They called Jensen constantly, just hoping their dad would spend time with them too. But Jensen… he never came, not once. It turned out he thought I was using our children to gain sympathy and keep him tied down. I found it utterly absurd and laughable. We had known each other for over a decade; how could he possibly think that of me? I wiped away my tears, unwilling to argue with him. “Think what you want. I’m leaving.” Kate spoke up, her voice laced with feigned innocence, “Jensen, honey, I heard you were planning to take the kids to see the ocean. Did you perhaps miss your date to celebrate my birthday, and now Summer is upset…?” Jensen’s voice was soft. “How can I blame you? We can go to the ocean any day, but a birthday only comes once a year.” At his words, I sneered. Ignoring them, I walked towards the door. Jensen, sensing something was truly amiss, stepped forward and blocked me, his anger rising. “Running away from home over such a trivial matter?” He noticed my haggard, gaunt face and paused. “You’ve lost so much weight?” Perhaps from recent insomnia, my head felt swimmy. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. “I’ll have my assistant clear my schedule for next week. We’ll take the kids to see the ocean, alright?” Next week? Leo and Luna wouldn’t have a next week! If he’d only shown a fraction of the thought he gave Kate to his own children, he wouldn’t utter such a foolish remark! I slapped his outstretched hand away. “No need.” Jensen looked at the faint red mark on the back of his hand, startled. He couldn’t believe that the person who used to cling to him now avoided him like the plague. Snapping out of his daze, he tried to follow, but Kate held him back. “Oh, Jensen, it’s all my fault. Even though I knew the kids were faking their illness, I insisted on you spending my birthday with me. Now Summer is angry with me. I really shouldn’t have.” Faking… faking illness? My mind went blank. By the time I regained my senses, I had already slapped Kate. 3 Jensen’s face, which had held a trace of guilt, instantly hardened. He shielded Kate behind him, watching me warily. “Summer Jiang, Kate has depression, and you still dare to hit her? Are you insane?” I ignored his reprimand, my gaze fixed on Kate. “You’d better watch your mouth, or I’ll hit you again.” Kate whimpered, sounding wronged. “Summer, darling, faking illness really isn’t right. Is this how you raise your children? No wonder Jensen says you’ve ruined them… I, I won’t say anything else.” I lunged to slap her again, but she darted behind Jensen. I looked at Jensen. “Do you also think Leo and Luna were faking?” He remained silent. I looked around the house, seeing no sign of the children. He asked, with a dismissive air, “Where have you dragged them off to now?” He truly didn’t believe me. If only he had come home, he would have seen the table covered with the children’s medications and medical records. But he hadn’t come home, not once. I remembered how, after learning they didn’t have much time left, my children had wanted our family to be together, to see the legendary ocean. I had pleaded with Jensen, even kneeling and bumping my head on the floor. In the end, I had clung to his trousers, promising him that this one time, I wouldn’t bother him again. I would set him free. At the time, he had paused, looking down at me from above. His eyes held both joy and a strange complexity. “Is that true?” “Yes,” I slowly closed my eyes, tears streaming down. My grandfather had saved his grandfather’s life, so we were betrothed since childhood. When I came of age, my grandfather asked if I still wished to marry Jensen. I nodded, saying yes. Because from a young age, I had loved this legendary prodigy, this unattainable figure. My grandfather arranged the wedding. It was my affirmation that forced him to watch Kate leave the country. On our wedding day, he ran away for Kate. I became the laughingstock of the city. Jensen’s grandfather was so enraged he ended up in the hospital, then forced Jensen to apologize to me and register our marriage. He dodged it. Turning around, he warned me, “This is all you’re getting. I won’t marry you legally.” “I won’t let Kate be ‘the other woman.’” Neither the position of his wife nor his unconditional love. He reserved it all for Kate. Kate, because of me and the children, had delayed accepting Jensen’s proposal. I was willing to give him up. Why wouldn’t he spend one last time with his children? He didn’t have to like me, but they were his children too. How could he be so heartless towards Leo and Luna? I gave Jensen a look of profound disappointment. I used to think his features were like a painting; now, I found them repulsive. Jensen was about to say something, but Kate interrupted him with a whiny complaint. “My face hurts so much. Is it swollen, Jensen?” 4 Jensen’s attention immediately snapped back to her. Kate leaned into his embrace. The slap I’d given her with all my might had left a clear, red handprint on her pale face. Kate was now shedding tears, and Jensen’s heart ached for her. He gently brushed away her tears with his fingertips. When we were kids, he used to be quite kind to me. If I fell, he’d help me up and wipe away my tears just like that. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d looked at me kindly. Jensen’s tenderness vanished as he looked at me, replaced by a cold glare. “Summer Jiang, look what you’ve done! Apologize to Kate.” I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. “No way.” Jensen was taken aback that I actually had the nerve to talk back to him. Because I loved him, I had always been cautious and meticulous around him, carefully holding onto my sincerity, fearing his dislike. But no matter what I did, it was always wrong in his eyes. I could never measure up to Kate. Jensen merely showed a moment of surprise before carrying Kate back to the sofa. As I walked out, I heard Jensen’s voice from behind me: “Summer Jiang, do you really have to make a scene and make everyone look bad?” He knew I wouldn’t be able to step out that door. His bodyguards forced me back inside. Jensen’s gaze was heavy as he looked at me. “Kate’s condition can’t handle stress. You need to apologize to her.” Kate gave me a triumphant smirk, then looked at Jensen. “It’s alright, Jensen, Summer didn’t mean it.” Jensen looked at her with pity. “Kate, you’re just too kind, that’s why she bullies you. I won’t allow such things to happen.” Then, he glared at me again. “No one can harm Kate, or they’ll pay double.” His protective stance reminded me of when I was kidnapped and sold to a mountain village as a child. He was the one who, despite the dangers, held my hand and led me to escape. He had once been good to me, maybe he just didn’t remember. And now, perhaps my unyielding attitude had angered him. Jensen was determined to teach me a lesson. He gestured for his bodyguards to make me kneel before them. Seeing me humbled, he nodded, slightly satisfied. A sharp-eyed bodyguard stepped forward, raising his hand to strike me. Kate stopped him. “Jensen, Summer may have made a mistake, but she’s still a girl. I can’t bear to see her bullied by a man.” “If you truly want to teach her a lesson, let me do it.” Jensen, always compliant with her, naturally indulged her. Kate, without hesitation, raised her hand and slapped me twice. My face was snapped to the side, my lips bleeding, and my ears rang for a moment. Kate looked at Jensen, feigning distress. “Oh no, I accidentally hurt Summer. I didn’t mean to.” Jensen snorted coldly. “She deserved it. She hurt you first, yet you’re still worrying about her.” He then rubbed her palm. “Did it hurt your hand?” Kate blushed and shook her head. The bodyguards released me, and I stumbled awkwardly to the floor. Jensen looked at me. “Summer Jiang, you owe Kate this. Apologize to her.” I owe her? She was the one who slandered my children first! Jensen always sided with her, no matter right or wrong. I curved my lips, letting out a scoff. “Never!” “I hate you!”

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1 I was born with an extremely fragile body, yet I was bound to a “”Resurrection System.”” My foster mother slapped me, and my neck instantly snapped. Terrified, she dumped me in a mass grave that very night. To her surprise, I struggled back to my feet and was taken to an orphanage by a kind passerby. The director lightly kicked me, but my liver ruptured, and I died on the spot. I woke up again in the morgue in the middle of the night. From then on, no one dared to lay a finger on me. When my biological parents brought me home, the fake heiress, Olivia, was watching me with shifty eyes from the staircase. As I passed her, she deliberately leaned into me, then tumbled down the stairs. Tears and snot running down her face, she claimed I had deliberately pushed her. But suddenly, all the bones in my body fractured, and I collapsed to the ground. Olivia was terrified and flustered. “”I just lightly touched you! Don’t you dare try to frame me!”” The next second, I sat straight up from the ground. “”Oh, so you admit you touched me?”” …… Hearing my words and seeing my arm hanging unnaturally, Olivia’s eyes widened. “”Wha—what’s going on?”” My mother, Eleanor, beside me, jumped, rushing over to check my injuries. I wobbled my broken arm, feigning weakness. “”Mom, I’m fine, just a little pain. I’ll endure it.”” Seeing me like this, Mom was too scared to touch me. Olivia instinctively took half a step back. “”It really wasn’t me! Sister pushed me just now! How did this happen?”” My brother, Leo, shielded Olivia, glaring fiercely at me. “”Exactly! I saw it all; Stella deliberately pushed Olivia. She’s faking all of this!”” Hearing Leo’s words, my father, Arthur, frowned, looking at me. “”Even if Olivia touched you, it shouldn’t cause this. Stella, I know you lacked love growing up, but there’s no need to seek attention this way.”” Mom also gently touched my arm. “”It shouldn’t be anything serious. Although you’re now a young lady of the family, you can’t be too delicate.”” Olivia, seeing everyone taking her side, felt emboldened. “”That’s right, Sister. I know you’re jealous of me, but Mom and Dad aren’t stupid. Isn’t this method a bit too childish?”” Leo sneered, walked up to me, and grabbed my arm. “”Dislocated, isn’t it? I happen to know how to set bones. Let me help you.”” The words had barely left his mouth when Leo suddenly pulled my arm upward with force. He expected me to scream. But to his surprise, my body suddenly let out a series of “”cracks,”” and then, like a noodle, I collapsed to the ground again. I looked at the flustered Leo in front of me, gathering all my strength to softly utter a sentence. “”It’s… it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”” After saying that, my vision went black, and I passed out. When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Seeing me open my eyes, Mom quickly rushed to the bedside. “”Stella, you’re finally awake! You scared me to death!”” Leo snorted from the side. “”Still acting. It was just a light touch, wasn’t it? Why make such a big deal out of it?”” Dad also frowned slightly. “”Comminuted fracture. Doesn’t look fake. Do you have some innate illness?”” With that, Dad called the doctor again for a full body check-up. The results showed that, apart from that arm, all my other body parts were perfectly healthy, with no issues whatsoever. I ducked my head, timidly speaking. “”Mom and Dad, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. My bones are too fragile, I’ve caused you trouble.”” Dad shook his head, telling Olivia and Leo, “”Stella’s body is weak. Be careful with her; don’t hurt her again.”” Olivia nodded obediently, pulling a thermos from behind her. “”Sister, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize your arm was so fragile. I made you some chicken soup; drink it to nourish your body.”” Leo sneered from the side. “”You pushed Olivia and ended up like this, yet Olivia isn’t holding a grudge and even made you chicken soup. How considerate. You should learn from Olivia.”” Mom and Dad smiled, relieved, seeing our harmonious scene. I took the chicken soup, thanking her repeatedly. “”Thank you, little sister. I’ll definitely get better and won’t cause any more trouble for the family.”” Saying that, I took the chicken soup and drank it all. But the moment the chicken soup entered my stomach, I suddenly felt a burning sensation. Olivia watched me from the side, a half-smile on her face. “”I specifically added extra black pepper, so sister can sweat it out and recover quickly.”” But the next second, I suddenly started coughing violently. Leo rolled his eyes. “”Look at you, so ungraceful, choking on chicken soup…”” He hadn’t finished his sentence when I spat a mouthful of blood onto his face. My vision went black, and I collapsed, unconscious. 2 When I next awoke, Olivia was kneeling before Mom and Dad, crying as if her heart would break. “”I—I really only put in a little black pepper! Nothing else!”” Leo was also flushed with urgency. “”You’ve been with Olivia for so many years! Don’t you know her character? How could she poison anyone? It must be Stella faking it!”” No sooner had he spoken than a heavy slap landed on his face. “”A broken arm can be faked, but can death be faked? Stella stopped breathing half an hour ago! The doctors declared her dead! How much more fake can it get?”” Mom cried, pulling Dad. “”Don’t blame the children. It can only be said that Stella had bad luck. The dead cannot be brought back to life; we can’t blame our living children for someone who’s gone.”” Dad covered his head, let out a deep sigh, and slumped to the ground. I lifted the white sheet covering me and slowly sat up. Olivia was the first to notice something was wrong, suddenly jumping up in terror, pointing at me and stammering. “”She, she…”” Dad hadn’t seen my condition yet, saying gloomily, “”Ultimately, I owe Stella. I…”” “”Mom and Dad, what’s wrong?”” As soon as I spoke, Mom and Dad simultaneously turned their heads, erupting in a chorus of screams. Leo’s eyes widened in terror, and he backed away repeatedly. “”It’s a zombie! Doctor, it’s a zombie!”” Hearing the commotion, the doctor rushed in, looking at me in disbelief. An experienced, white-haired old doctor quickly instructed the other doctors to take me to the operating room. After a thorough examination, the doctor joyfully told Mom and Dad that my body had fully recovered and was perfectly fine. The doctor didn’t know how to explain the phenomenon, so he simply said I had entered a state of suspended animation. Hearing this, Leo immediately cursed at me. “”I knew she was faking it! Stella, you’re such an actress, you can even fake death! Why don’t you go to a movie set and play a dead person?”” I, shedding tears, said weakly, “”Brother, I really don’t know what happened. After drinking the chicken soup, I felt a burning pain in my stomach and then passed out.”” The doctor also explained on my behalf that suspended animation wasn’t faked but a state of shock caused by physical injury. Dad sighed, stroking my head. “”You probably suffered too much hardship in your childhood, leaving you with this condition. Don’t think too much about it; go home and rest well.”” After that, Dad glared fiercely at Olivia and Leo again, warning them not to harm me further. Back home, I contacted a renovation crew and had surveillance cameras installed in every corner of the house. Mom stared at the pile of cameras, dumbfounded, asking what I was doing. I bit my lip, speaking softly. “”My body is too weak. If I accidentally die one day, the cameras can prove that my brother and sister didn’t harm me, so you won’t be implicated.”” Hearing my words, Olivia clenched her fists, her face red, unable to speak. That evening at dinner, Mom and Dad specially prepared a lavish meal to help me recover. Olivia and Leo sat several feet away from me, afraid of any physical contact. I proactively served Olivia a bowl of porridge, gently placing it in front of her. She suddenly smiled eerily, took the porridge, and drank it all. The next second, her face turned bright red, and she frantically scratched at her face. “”Did sister put peanuts in the porridge? I’m allergic to peanuts! I feel terrible!”” Olivia’s face broke out in a rash. She fell to the ground, screaming in agony. Mom and Dad were startled. They glared at me fiercely, then rushed to comfort Olivia, full of distress. Olivia, while screaming, stealthily glanced at me with a mischievous look. But unexpectedly, I suddenly covered my ears, breathing heavily. “”My—my heart hurts so much! I can’t breathe…”” No sooner had I spoken than I passed out again. 3 When I regained consciousness again, I was already lying in a funeral home. Surrounded by strangers, Mom and Dad stood in front of me, crying hysterically. Aunts and uncles kept comforting Mom and Dad. “”Stella’s passing was an accident. Don’t blame yourselves too much. You still have Olivia, don’t you?”” Dad beat his chest. “”If we hadn’t lost Stella when she was little, her health wouldn’t be this bad. I can’t imagine how much hardship she suffered as a child.”” Olivia and Leo knelt on either side, their faces pale, biting their lips without a word. A man in a black suit solemnly spoke. “”The hour has come. Rest in peace.”” Everyone around burst into tears. I blinked in confusion, then sat up from the coffin. “”Why are you all crying?”” As soon as I spoke, the scene fell silent for a moment, then erupted in screams. Everyone immediately scattered, even Mom and Dad backed away repeatedly in fright. But hearing the continuous screams, I again felt a sharp pain in my heart. I clutched my chest, groaning in agony. Seeing my condition, Dad immediately reacted, quickly grabbing the people around him. “”Don’t scream loudly! Stella isn’t dead! She’s still alive!”” Hearing Dad’s words, everyone immediately quieted down. My face was pale. I clutched my chest, speaking with difficulty. “”Mom and Dad, please don’t blame sister. It’s just my heart is fragile and can’t handle being scared.”” Saying this, I pulled out my phone and accessed the home surveillance footage. “”Look, sister didn’t touch me; it has nothing to do with her.”” But to my surprise, the surveillance footage clearly showed Olivia quietly adding a handful of crushed peanuts to her porridge. Seeing this scene, a hushed murmur immediately spread through the crowd. Dad’s face was extremely grim. He glared at a visibly embarrassed Olivia. Olivia’s face turned red. She stammered, trying to explain, but Dad cut her off. “”Enough! Aren’t you embarrassed enough? We’ll talk about this at home!”” Dad quickly directed the family bodyguards to rush me to the hospital. After an examination, the doctor said in disbelief, “”My goodness, this girl has nine lives! She was in suspended animation for three days and three nights, and now she’s perfectly recovered!”” Dad, still uneasy, put me through a series of tests. Only after confirming I had no issues did he cautiously take me home. As soon as we entered the house, Dad sternly admonished Olivia. “”I never imagined you would go to such lengths to frame Stella!”” Mom shook her head in disappointment. “”Olivia, Mom and Dad won’t abandon you, but why would you do something like this?”” Olivia quickly knelt on the ground, slapping herself hard. “”It’s all my own foolishness! I’m sorry, Mom and Dad! I’m sorry, Sister! Please forgive me!”” Leo quickly pulled her up, distressed. Dad snorted coldly, immediately laying down the rules. Olivia and Leo were strictly forbidden from touching my body, always maintaining a distance of at least three feet from me. Their voices at home could not exceed 50 decibels, and so on. Leo glared fiercely at me, then led a red-eyed, weeping Olivia back to her room. As Olivia passed me, she suddenly stopped, whispering in my ear, “”I know your secret.”” Hearing her words, I couldn’t help but frown. That night, I got up to use the restroom. Passing Olivia’s room, I suddenly smelled something burnt. Fire! I instinctively pushed open Olivia’s door but found she wasn’t in the room. I immediately realized something was wrong and quickly prepared to leave the room. But to my surprise, the door suddenly slammed shut. I forcefully twisted the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t budge. The door was locked! A cold sweat immediately broke out on my body. Sparks flew from the wardrobe, and thick smoke quickly filled the entire room. I immediately searched everywhere for something to extinguish the fire, but after searching for a long time, there was no water, not even a large piece of clothing! I quickly tried to kick the door open, but it was tightly shut; I couldn’t budge it. I hadn’t brought my phone when I went to the restroom. Helpless, I could only desperately pound on the door, shouting for help. But suddenly, a scornful laugh came from outside the door. “”Don’t waste your energy. Mom and Dad are fast asleep; they can’t hear you.”” It’s Olivia! I took a deep breath. “”Olivia, I advise you to open the door, or you know the consequences.”” Olivia sneered. “”Consequences? Haha, you appeared in my room, and then a fire started. There are no cameras in my room. Who do you think Mom and Dad will believe started it?”” So that’s what she was waiting for. I calmly said, “”Since you know my ability, you should also know that I don’t die easily. What’s the point of what you’re doing now?”” Unexpectedly, Olivia suddenly burst into laughter. “”Hahaha, your body is indeed special, but if it turns to ash, can you still revive?”” Hearing Olivia’s words, I couldn’t help but tremble. “”Stella, see you in the next life.”” With that, Olivia’s voice completely vanished. The smoke grew thicker and thicker. I felt a burning sensation in my lungs, almost unable to breathe. I covered my mouth and nose, bending down to the window, intending to jump. But Olivia had locked the windows too; I couldn’t open them. Soon, flames licked at me, and my arm instantly turned red and blistered. Outside, chaos erupted. I heard Mom and Dad loudly calling my name from outside the door. I immediately pounded on the door, shouting for help. But unexpectedly, Leo’s voice came from outside. “”Mom and Dad, I just checked Stella’s room; no one’s there.”” Olivia’s urgent voice also chimed in. “”The fire came from my room! Good thing I was in the bathroom just now; it scared me to death. I searched everywhere but couldn’t find Sister. She must have run out.”” I heard Mom and Dad’s footsteps receding, stamping my foot in frustration. No choice. I have to rely on myself now. I endured the intense pain, rummaging through boxes and drawers for anything that could save my life. Suddenly, I found a bottle of water in a drawer. Saved! This small amount of water wouldn’t put out the fire, but if I wet my clothes and covered my mouth and nose, it could significantly delay asphyxiation. As long as I could hold on until Mom and Dad rescued me, I would live! Thinking this, I immediately took off my outer garment, poured water on it, and placed it over my nose. But unexpectedly, I suddenly felt a dizzying sensation. Damn it, someone poisoned the water! Before I could react, my vision went black, and I passed out. Soon, a searing burning sensation spread to my face, then rapidly engulfed my entire body. I could distinctly feel the intense pain on my body; I felt as if I was melting, yet I couldn’t open my eyes at all. I had no strength left. I had experienced “”death”” so many times, but this was the first time I felt what it was like to be burned alive. Looks like this time, I was truly finished. Just as I plunged into despair, a crisp notification sound suddenly echoed in my ears. [Congratulations, Host, for successfully dying 99 times. You have now received the Indestructible Body reward. You will not die regardless of the damage sustained.]

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Chapter 1 It started as a simple dinner party game, but it was the moment I decided to divorce Ethan Sterling. During a round of “Two Truths and a Lie,” he absentmindedly blurted out how much he loved resting his head against a pregnant belly to hear the baby kick. The entire room went dead silent. Every single pair of eyes shifted to me. There was no shock in their gazes. Only pity, and the sheer panic of a dark secret being dragged into the light. I realized, right then, that they all knew. Ethan had gotten another woman pregnant. And every single one of our friends had helped him hide it from me. They did it because they knew I was Ethan’s entire world. If I found out, I would leave him. And if I left him, he would lose his mind. So, to speed up his descent into madness, I did three things. First, I took the silver wedding band he had custom-forged for me and had it melted down. Second, I saved the security footage of Mia Harper’s brazen provocations onto a flash drive. Third, I accepted an invitation to join a highly classified federal research initiative. My deployment date was set for our seventh wedding anniversary. On that day, I would vanish from his life as if I had never existed. All he would get from me was a single FedEx envelope. Inside would be the flash drive, a signed divorce agreement, and the confirmation paperwork for my scheduled abortion. I swallowed the bitter red wine in my glass, fighting to keep my composure. My voice was barely a whisper, but the question cut through the silence: “How many months?” Ethan looked like he had been violently shaken awake from a nightmare. The wine glass in his hand shattered under his sudden, white-knuckled grip. Jagged glass pierced his palm. Blood dripped onto the expensive rug. He didn’t even flinch. He just lunged forward, pulling me into a desperate, suffocating embrace. His voice shook violently. “Clara, it’s not what you think! The baby… it was just a mistake!” Hearing those words felt like my soul was being torn to shreds. Swallowing the agonizing lump in my throat, I forced out the words, syllable by syllable. “So you really… got another woman… pregnant?” Ethan fell silent. He couldn’t give me an answer. I closed my eyes. Two stray tears slipped down my cheeks. The thought that he had held another woman like this made my stomach churn. I pushed him away in disgust and turned to run. Ethan chased me to the front door, but his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and immediately answered. Through the quiet foyer, I could hear a whiny, sweet female voice on the other end. “Ethan, honey~ Your little baby keeps kicking your big baby. It’s torturing me~” A sharp pain stabbed my chest. I sped up my steps and fled out the door. He didn’t follow me. I let out a bitter laugh, unsure if I felt relieved or entirely hollow. Pulling out my phone, I dialed a secure, out-of-state number. “Professor Davis, I’m accepting the offer. I’ll join the DARPA research team.” The man on the other end sounded surprised. “Truly? That’s incredible news, Clara. We desperately need your brilliant mind on this project.” “But you understand this program is strictly confidential, right? Once you’re in, you will be entirely cut off from your family.” “Your husband is so protective of you he’d probably call the FBI if you went missing for an hour. Is he on board with this?” My eyes dimmed. My voice was hoarse. “I’m divorcing him.” The professor stayed quiet for a moment. He didn’t pry. He simply said, “Understood. I’ll fast-track your clearance. You deploy in three days.” The second I hung up, my eyes drifted to a massive billboard across the plaza. It was broadcasting a live financial interview with Ethan. The host sharply noticed him twisting the ring on his finger and smiled. “Mr. Sterling, you keep touching your ring. But… it looks like a very standard silver band. Is there a story behind it?” Ethan’s expression softened into total adoration. He held his hand up to the camera. “This is my wedding ring.” “Oh! My apologies, I just assumed a man of your net worth would have sprung for platinum or a massive diamond.” Ethan smiled. “I forged this ring myself, seven years ago, when I had nothing. I polished it by hand. It has our initials engraved on the inside.” “Wow, it really does. E.S. and… C.H.” “C.H.,” Ethan confirmed. “My wife. Clara Hayes.” “Wow. Your wife must have won the lottery of life to marry a man like you, Mr. Sterling.” Ethan gave a gentle shake of his head. “No. I’m the one who caught lightning in a bottle. I’m the lucky one.” “This year marks our seventh anniversary. Seven years ago, when I was a nobody, she stood by me. She even sacrificed our first child to save my life…” “Clara Hayes is the only woman I will ever love. In three days, on our anniversary, I’m throwing her the wedding of the century. I want the whole world to witness what she means to me.” Passersby on the street were cooing, praising him as the ultimate devoted husband. It was true. Everyone thought Ethan loved me more than his own life. Up until today, I thought so too. Looking down at the ring I had worn for seven years—the one Ethan never let me take off—I walked straight into a local jeweler. “I need this ring melted down, please.” The clerk looked at the ring, then at me, her eyes widening. “Wait… are you Clara Sterling?” Her coworker rolled her eyes and hushed her. “Please, it’s just a coincidence that it has E.S. and C.H. Mr. Sterling worships the ground his wife walks on. Why would she ever melt her ring?” Listening to them gossip, I laughed mockingly at myself, paid the fee, and walked out. I wandered aimlessly through the chilly streets until a familiar car parked at the curb caught my eye. It was Ethan’s SUV. It sat there, idling in the cold wind, as if waiting for something. My steps slowed. A complicated knot of emotions tightened in my chest. I hated myself for the tiny spark of hope that flared up inside me. What was I hoping for? That he had tracked me down? That he was waiting here to apologize? I didn’t know if I should confront him or run away again. Taking a deep breath, I slowly walked toward the car. Every step felt like walking on broken glass. Suddenly, the driver’s side door opened. Ethan stepped out and hurried to the passenger side. He opened the door and gently, carefully, helped a young, heavily pregnant girl step out onto the curb. Chapter 2 The girl giggled, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek before holding up her left hand to admire it. On her ring finger sat a silver band. “Ethan, the ring you made is so pretty. If our baby knew how much his daddy loved his mommy, he’d be so excited to come into this world.” Ethan took off his designer overcoat, draped it over her shoulders with an adoring smile, and bent down to gently rub her swollen belly. “Daddy can’t wait for him to get here, either.” Watching this scene unfold from the shadows, I started to laugh. But as I laughed, the tears broke free and streamed down my face. For seven years, Ethan had kept every other woman at a strict ten-foot distance. There was a time the tabloids joked he was terrified of women. He brushed it off, stating it was the basic respect a married man owed his wife. He even bought books on “Setting Boundaries in Marriage” and treated them like gospel. I used to tease him for being so dramatic, but he’d pull me close and say he just wanted me to feel utterly safe. He told me his love was exclusively mine. But now, he had carved out a massive piece of that love for the woman carrying his child. I stood there in silence until Ethan finally sensed my burning gaze. Our eyes locked. He shot up instantly. Suddenly, the girl in his arms looked like a live grenade. He dropped his hand from her waist and sprinted toward me. His hands shook as he framed my face, then grabbed my freezing fingers, his eyes wide with frantic worry. “Clara, why are you out here? You’re freezing! And you’re crying—what’s wrong? Don’t scare me.” The panic in his eyes was so agonizingly genuine that, for a split second, my heart actually softened. But the girl standing behind him, proudly displaying her massive pregnant belly, was a glaring reminder that his concern was nothing but a sick joke. She didn’t look scared at all. She rested one hand on her bump, lifted her chin with a smug smirk, and stared me down. I ripped my hands out of Ethan’s grip and stumbled back two steps. As if draining the last ounce of air from my lungs, I asked him weakly: “Who is she? And the baby… is it yours?” In that single moment, I wagered our entire seven-year history on his answer. It was a desperate, final gamble. If he denied it. If he looked me in the eye and swore that baby wasn’t his. I would have believed him. I would have forced myself to forget the betrayal and the pain. But from a few feet away, the girl let out a soft, highly calculated whimper. It sounded like the universe laughing at my delusion. Guilt flashed across Ethan’s face. He closed his eyes in agony, and when he opened them, he delivered the kill shot. “It’s mine.” My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the concrete sidewalk. I threw my hands out to catch myself, scraping my palms raw against the pavement. Ethan dropped to his knees in a panic, his voice cracking with desperation. “Clara! Hit me, scream at me, whatever you want—just please, don’t hurt yourself!” He was practically begging. He grabbed my hands, desperately trying to wipe the dirt from my bleeding palms. Suddenly, he froze. The blood drained from his face. “Clara… where is your wedding ring?” I pulled my hands away, offering a bitter, hollow smile. I flicked my eyes toward the girl. “Isn’t it on her finger? One silver ring is enough for you, right?” Panic seized him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Suddenly, he raised his hand and slapped himself across the face. Hard. Twice. The sheer force left bright red handprints on his cheeks. The girl gasped and rushed over, shielding Ethan behind her. Her voice trembled, but she spoke with a defiant edge. “Mrs. Sterling, I’m Mia. Ethan and I are both victims here! Please don’t blame him!” Tears pooled in her eyes as she bravely tried to protect my husband from me. Ethan’s face darkened, his voice dropping to a freezing temperature. “Clara is my wife. Show some respect.” Mia shrank back slightly, but her chin remained high. “You have to believe me. I’m only twenty-three! If it wasn’t for Ethan’s mother… I never would have kept this baby!” The moment she said that, Ethan’s deadened eyes snapped toward her, and he blurted out, “Shut up!” And right then, I knew. There was no future left for us. Chapter 3 I didn’t waste my breath on another question. I let Ethan drive me back to our penthouse in silence. During the ride, he fed me the tragic backstory of his “mistake”: Nine months ago, during a business trip to Chicago, a corporate rival slipped something into his drink. In his drugged stupor, he stumbled into Mia’s hotel room by accident. After that night, he wrote her a massive check and told her to vanish. He didn’t expect her to get pregnant. And when his mother found out, she immediately flew Mia back from Europe and demanded the child be kept at all costs. I knew my mother-in-law’s obsession with the family bloodline. Seven years ago, Ethan and I took a cruise for our honeymoon. A freak storm capsized the vessel. As we were thrown into the churning ocean, Ethan shielded me from a falling steel beam, shattering his leg in the process. Using his last ounce of strength, he shoved the only life preserver into my arms and begged me to survive. But how could I let him drown? I stayed. I held him afloat, treading water to keep him from sinking. By the time the Coast Guard found us, I had been submerged in the freezing Atlantic for twenty-four hours. Ethan made a full recovery. But the hypothermia and trauma caused me to miscarry our first child, leaving my body permanently scarred. I was told I would likely never conceive again. From that day on, Ethan treated me like royalty. He said we had survived death together, swearing on his life that he would never leave me. But his mother despised me for failing to produce an heir. Now, with a surprise grandson dropping into her lap, it was obvious she would protect Mia with everything she had. In the quiet car, Ethan held my hand, his voice thick with remorse. “Clara, I swear to God, it was a terrible accident…” I looked him dead in the eye, forcing down the bile. “The baby or me. Pick one.” He fell completely silent. That silence was all the answer I needed. I pulled my hand out of his and turned to look at the glittering city skyline through the window. My marriage was just like those city lights. Dazzling and bright for seven years, but eventually, the morning always comes, and the lights go out. When we got home, Ethan reached for me gently. He brought out the first-aid kit to treat my scraped hands. “Promise me you won’t hurt yourself again. It kills me to see you bleed.” I didn’t say a word. I just pulled my hands away, walked into the guest bedroom, and locked the door behind me. A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed through the wood. “Clara, please,” he coaxed, his voice muffled. “Just say one word to me. I’m so worried about you.” I pulled the heavy duvet over my head and shut my eyes. The next morning, I woke up and dressed in head-to-toe black. I looked at the framed photo of my parents on the nightstand, my eyes welling up with tears. Five years ago, a drunk driver took their lives. Today was the anniversary of their deaths. I vividly remembered standing at the morgue, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe as the sheets were pulled over their faces. Ethan had held me tight, whispering into my hair, “Don’t be afraid, Clara. You still have me.” He had dropped to his knees before their graves and sworn he would love me forever. He promised he would stand by my side every year to honor them, to show them how perfectly he was taking care of their daughter. The bedroom door clicked open. Ethan walked in, looking like a ghost. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. “You have the spare key. Why didn’t you come in last night?” I asked coldly. He knelt on the floor and gently slipped my feet into my slippers. “Consider it my punishment. I’m healthy; one night awake won’t kill me. If I came in, you wouldn’t have slept at all. Wear your slippers. The floors are cold.” My nose stung. I blurted out, “Do you even remember what day it is?” Ethan looked up at me, entirely serious. “Of course. It’s the anniversary of your parents’ passing. I would never forget.” He stood up, energetically gathering the flowers and items we needed for the cemetery visit. Suddenly, my phone on the vanity buzzed with a notification. He glanced at it, freezing as he read the screen. He picked up the phone. “You… canceled a flight?” I didn’t flinch. “I was looking into a vacation for us, but the timing felt wrong, so I canceled it.” He opened his mouth to ask more, but his own phone rang. “Ethan! I slipped! My stomach hurts so bad! There’s blood—what do I do?!” Ethan’s entire demeanor shifted to pure panic. The canceled flight completely vanished from his mind. He grabbed my hands, his eyes begging for mercy. “Clara, I just have to go make sure she’s okay. I swear on my life, I’ll meet you at the cemetery!” He turned, ran to his car, and peeled out of the driveway, disappearing around the corner. Tears fell rhythmically onto the hardwood floor. I wiped my face, but the tears just kept coming. I went to the cemetery alone. I sat there until the sun went down, talking to my parents. When I finally got back to the penthouse, I started packing my bags. Ethan didn’t get home until after midnight. He threw his arms around me, apologizing over and over again. I let him hold me. I didn’t say a word. That night, it felt like a massive fault line had cracked our world in two. His embrace was so familiar and warm, but in my heart, he had never felt further away. Chapter 4 When I woke up, Ethan’s side of the bed was already cold. He had left a sticky note on the nightstand: Emergency at the office. Had to head in early. Made you breakfast, please eat. What he didn’t know was that at the crack of dawn, I had heard his phone ring. It was Mia. She had called him away. Looking at the perfect breakfast he’d prepared on the kitchen island, a sudden wave of severe nausea hit me. A wild suspicion took root in my mind. I grabbed an Uber and went straight to a clinic. Staring at the ultrasound results, I actually laughed until I cried. The doctor looked at me with deep sympathy. “Are you a single mother? Do you plan to keep the pregnancy? Given your medical history and the severe scarring from your past trauma, if you terminate this pregnancy, you will absolutely never be able to conceive again.” Leaving the clinic, I hailed another ride and gave the driver the address to the $50 million Hamptons estate Ethan had bought me. Looking at the massive stone archway that read “Hayes Haven,” I felt nothing but irony. Below the name, Ethan had personally engraved a plaque: To hold Clara’s hand is to hold my future. This was supposed to be our sanctuary. Our exclusive escape. Aside from the cleaning staff, no other woman had ever been permitted to step foot on the property. Yet, as I walked up the driveway, Mia Harper was standing on the front porch. She looked at me with a victorious smirk. “The legendary Hayes Haven isn’t that impressive after all. I walked right through the front door.” “I heard this was your little love nest? But Mrs. Sterling said the ocean air here is the best for my pregnancy, so Ethan let me move in. You aren’t mad, are you?” “Oh, and just to be safe, Ethan had all the sharp-edged furniture thrown out and replaced. He let me pick out the new pieces. They’re much more my style~” I looked around the house. Everything was different. The suffocating bitterness rising in my throat made it hard to breathe. Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave. On our third anniversary, Ethan had dropped to one knee on this very porch, pressing the keys into my palm. “Clara, no one else will ever cross this threshold. This is a monument to us. Our private world.” This place was sacred to us. Now, he had gift-wrapped it for his mistress. My legs felt hollow. I leaned against the doorframe, stripped of the energy to even stand straight. Mia’s eyes bored into me, burning with jealousy and spite. And all I could feel was profound, bottomless grief. The place that held my best memories was now the graveyard of my heart. “So how much longer do you plan on squatting in the role of Mrs. Sterling? Can’t you see how much Ethan spoils me and this baby?” she sneered. Squatting? I forced a bitter smile, utterly exhausted by her theatrics. Then, my eyes swept the living room. The mantelpiece, where I kept the framed memorial portraits of my parents, was bare. “Where are my parents’ photos?!” I snapped, my voice finally cracking with real panic. “Oh, those gloomy things? Ethan threw them out. Bad vibes for the baby,” she replied breezily, admiring her manicure. I glared at her with pure venom until she rolled her eyes and begrudgingly pulled the framed photos from a trash bag in the corner. Then, staring right into my eyes, she smiled, struck a lighter, and set the photographs on fire. I lunged forward to smother the flames. The moment I moved, Mia conveniently threw herself backward onto the floor and began shrieking in pain. I ignored her completely, using my bare hands to frantically stamp out the fire burning my parents’ faces. Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed behind me. “Clara! Why the hell did you push her?!” Ignoring the burns blistering my hands, I finally put the fire out. When I looked up, Ethan didn’t even glance in my direction. He scooped Mia up in a frantic panic and carried her out the door. I looked down at my scorched, blistered palms. This seven-year marriage really was a spectacular joke. I went to the sink, ran my hands under the cold tap, and started cleaning up the burnt mess. Suddenly, my mother-in-law stormed into the room and slapped me across the face with everything she had. “You barren jinx! If anything happens to my grandson, I will destroy you!” Ethan, having rushed back inside, quickly intercepted her. He finally ran to me, grabbing my injured hands, his face twisting in agony as he pulled out a tube of burn ointment. When his mother started screaming again, Ethan barked, “Mom, her water broke.” His mother immediately bolted for the door. Once she was gone, Ethan carefully studied my face, trying to gauge my temper. Finally, he whispered carefully: “Clara… Mia is young and immature. I know she upset you, but you shouldn’t have shoved a pregnant woman.” “I pushed her?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I apologized to her for you. She won’t hold it against you.” With one sentence, he acted as my judge and jury. A heavy, suffocating exhaustion pinned me down. I didn’t even want to argue. Between me and Mia, he had already chosen who to believe. Seven years as husband and wife couldn’t compete with a shiny new toy he’d known for less than a year. I watched him gently blow on my burns, though his eyes were constantly darting toward the door. I remembered the brief, undeniable flash of joy in his eyes when he told his mother the baby was coming. I rested a hand on my flat stomach. Ethan, I thought. You just made the decision for me. Chapter 5 Ethan eventually left for the hospital. I called a car, went back to our penthouse, and finished packing my luggage for tomorrow’s flight. I scrubbed the apartment of any trace that I had ever lived there. I left nothing behind for him. Except for one massive, custom-framed wedding portrait, which I took a pair of scissors to, leaving it in shreds on the floor. I pulled the flash drive from my purse, slipped it into an envelope alongside the signed divorce papers and my scheduled abortion confirmation, and dropped it off at FedEx. The delivery address was the grand ballroom where Ethan was hosting our anniversary vow-renewal tomorrow. The recipient was Ethan Sterling. After dropping it off, I pulled out my phone and typed a single text to Mia. “You wanted to be Mrs. Sterling? Congratulations. You can have him, and you can have tomorrow’s wedding.” That night, Ethan didn’t come home. It was the first night in seven years he hadn’t slept in our bed. But he called the house relentlessly, asking the maid if I had eaten, and reminding her to make sure I dried my hair before bed. He always remembered that if I slept with wet hair, I’d get terrible migraines. Late at night, I woke up to find the maid quietly tucking the blankets around me. She smiled warmly. “Mr. Sterling called again. He said you always kick the blankets off and made me promise to check on you so you wouldn’t catch a cold.” She kept rambling about how we were the most envied couple in the city, how we hadn’t fought once in seven years. She gushed about how sweet it was that he was throwing a massive surprise wedding just to make me smile. I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes. The next morning, Ethan called to say he was sending the event planners to pick me up, and that he would head straight from the hospital to the venue. I was already in a taxi headed to the airport when I answered his call. The driver confirmed the destination out loud. “Clara, why are you in a cab?” Ethan asked, confused. “I decided to take a cab to the venue,” I lied effortlessly. Ethan went quiet for a moment, then spoke with deep, emotional sincerity. “Clara, the baby was born. But I need you to believe me. You are the only woman I will ever truly love.” His exclusive, one-and-only love was suddenly becoming very crowded. How could a man split his heart down the middle and still have the nerve to play the devoted husband? I hung up the phone and told the driver to step on it. From today on, I was flying toward a brand-new life. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Ethan felt a bizarre, creeping anxiety in his chest, as if something priceless was slipping through his fingers. But a newborn’s cry broke his train of thought. Looking at his new son, a flicker of joy crossed his face, but he refused to hold the child. He was terrified that if he smelled like the baby, Clara would be upset when he saw her. By noon, the grand ballroom was packed with high-society guests. Ethan stood proudly at the altar, beaming with anticipation. The grand double doors swung open to the majestic swell of the wedding march. A bride in a breathtaking white gown slowly walked down the aisle. But when the bride lifted her veil, Ethan’s smile instantly died. It wasn’t me. It was Mia. And in her arms, she held her newborn baby. The whispers in the ballroom escalated into a shocked uproar. Ethan’s face went pale. He stormed down the aisle, grabbing Mia’s arm forcefully. “What the hell are you doing here? Where is Clara?!” Mia flinched, tears welling up as she struggled against his grip. “I don’t know! She texted me and told me to wear the dress today!” Before Ethan could process the madness, a FedEx courier stepped into the ballroom. “Ethan Sterling? I have a priority package from Clara Hayes.”

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Arthur Sterling wanted to divorce me for his delicate, white-lotus first love. Even our child had taken a special liking to her. When I heard him carefully call that woman “Mom,” my heart went completely cold, and I signed the divorce papers. Years later, I returned to the country for a gathering. A strange young boy timidly called me “Mom.” My daughter asked curiously, “Is he Evelyn’s big brother?” I shook my head. “Mom only has one child in this life, and that’s Evelyn.” 1 Everyone was thrilled to see the little blonde girl by my side. Madison nudged me with her elbow. “Where’d you kidnap her from? She’s so cute.” Someone chimed in, “Yeah, seriously. Chloe, I didn’t expect you to become a human trafficker after a few years abroad.” I unceremoniously flicked them both on the forehead. “What kind of nonsense is that? This is my daughter.” I squatted down. “Don’t we look alike?” Evelyn played along, obediently pressing her little cheek against mine. The private room instantly went dead silent. I knew this news was a bit too shocking for them. My marriage to Arthur had only ended a few years ago. And my intense, high-profile pursuit of him back in the day was something everyone here had witnessed; many had even helped me strategize. I had kept my life abroad very private, so they all assumed I was still single. Or at least, not married with a kid. Madison looked like she wanted to swear, but seeing Evelyn, she swallowed the words. She turned around and made a phone call. “Yeah, tell the guys they don’t need to come over. Tonight’s not the right vibe.” I held back a laugh, looking at my old friends. “What? Are married women not welcome here?” My friends recovered from their shock and bombarded me with questions: “Who’d you marry? Is he handsome?” “Chloe, how could you snag a hot foreign guy and not tell us?!” “What’s your name, little one? Want Auntie to play with you?” “Hannah, stop talking in that gross baby voice.” “Screw off, leave me alone.” … I rubbed my temples helplessly. A decade later, and they were still just as noisy. Thankfully, Evelyn wasn’t shy. She happily played with my old friends. Madison pulled me aside for a drink. “Are you really over Arthur?” I smiled, showing her the ring on my finger. “What do you think?” She smacked her forehead. “Right, stupid question.” “Arthur was so dead-set on marrying that fragile little flower back then. Now he’s regretting it.” I raised an eyebrow. “He regrets it?” I hadn’t kept tabs on them since I went abroad, but Arthur regretting it was genuinely surprising. He loved Lily Evans to death back then. He was willing to fight the whole world to marry her. Madison nodded. “The white lotus is pretty, sure, but being Mrs. Sterling is too much for her to handle.” The title of ‘Mrs. Sterling’ didn’t just mean being Arthur’s wife; it carried significant responsibilities. “The Sterling family has a massive empire. It’s not easy to manage,” I said. “You have no idea. When the white lotus first married Arthur, she couldn’t do anything right. She messed everything up. Arthur was patient at first, but patience doesn’t equal time. Eventually, he just got sick of it. Men, right? Typical.” Madison’s tone dripped with sarcasm. She never liked Arthur to begin with. Ever since she took over her family’s business, she had cut off many of their partnerships with the Sterlings. In her eyes, a man who couldn’t keep his personal life straight couldn’t possibly run a corporation well. Madison waved her hand. “Whatever, let’s not talk about that dog.” Just as she finished speaking, the door to the private room suddenly opened. A strange boy, looking to be around ten or eleven, walked in. Madison looked toward the door impatiently. “Who’s that?” “Whose kid is lost?” The boy scanned the crowd frantically before his eyes locked onto me. Those beautiful eyes gave me a strange sense of familiarity. Someone in the crowd murmured, “Isn’t that Arthur’s oldest son?” Madison reacted faster than I did. “Oh, it’s Chloe’s kid! Arthur… Arthur what again?” A friend reminded her, “Arthur James Sterling.” Evelyn, who was playing happily, seemed to sense something. She looked left and right, her big eyes darting around. The boy walked toward me and called out timidly, “Mom.” 2 That single word, “Mom,” pulled me back several years. When Arthur brought up divorce, he didn’t give a reason. Madison did some digging for me and uncovered his first love, Lily Evans. I took the evidence and confronted Arthur. During the argument, a truth accidentally slipped out of him: “Yes, I love Lily! Even if I have a child with you, that child must carry the mark of her existence!” Only then did it all make sense. No wonder when we were naming our son, Arthur insisted on changing “Julian” to “James.” He said he hoped our son would be “Just,” noble, and righteous. But it wasn’t about justice. It was an anagram. “James” was for J-A-M-E-S. Just Always Miss Evans Secretly. Unlike what Madison and the others thought, from that day forward, my feelings for Arthur died completely. I loved Arthur, yes, but not enough to lose myself. I loved him, but I loved my dignity more. However, our marriage involved too many people. Just separating the assets took a massive amount of time. Arthur cheated first; I had to make sure I got the larger share. Back then, my biggest concern was my son, James. But from the very beginning, he didn’t want to leave with me. Maybe it was pity from above that made me suddenly stubborn, wanting to persuade James, wanting to fight for full custody. If it hadn’t been for that stubbornness, I never would have discovered that my dear son had already accepted Lily as his mother. If I hadn’t discovered that, I wouldn’t have left so cleanly, and I wouldn’t have started my new life so easily. After I confronted Arthur, he immediately moved Lily into our house under the guise of being James’s private tutor. Surprisingly, James adored ‘Ms. Lily’ and defended her at every turn. I heard him praise Ms. Lily more than once, saying she was gentle and pretty, understanding, considerate, and kind. But James was just a little kid back then. I thought Arthur had hidden the affair well, so I didn’t overthink it. Until I heard it with my own ears. He carefully asked Lily, “Ms. Lily, can I call you Mom?” After getting a yes, he happily called her “Mom” several times. He added, “Ms. Lily needs to become my new mom quickly. I hate my mom right now. I hope she and Dad get divorced soon.” Lily asked him why. “Because Mom won’t let me eat candy.” Lily sounded surprised. “Just because of that?” “Yes.” James’s decisive answer completely shattered me. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about my parenting style. I thought about my past. In the end, I signed the divorce papers without any lingering attachments and left the country. 3 Seeing that I wasn’t responding, James called out again, “Mom.” His eyes were red, and he looked incredibly pitiful. Evelyn suddenly threw herself into my arms. She stared at him with wide, curious eyes and asked, “Is he Evelyn’s big brother?” James froze, then quickly shifted his gaze back to me, his face filled with unconcealed hope. I smiled gently at Evelyn and shook my head. “Mom only has one child in this life, and that’s Evelyn.” “This brother is… the son of a friend of Mom’s. But of course, you can call him ‘brother’.” Half-understanding, Evelyn reached out a hand to James. “Hi brother, I’m Evelyn.” But James just stood there, frozen, ignoring her. Evelyn awkwardly pulled her hand back and rubbed her little nose. “Mom, why does he look like he just got struck by lightning?” I chuckled and rubbed her head. “Go play with your aunts and uncles.” “Okay!” The little girl ran off, cheering happily. James looked at me pitifully. “Mom, do you not want James anymore?” His tone was exactly the same as when he was a toddler, seemingly trying to awaken my maternal instincts. I smiled faintly. “You have your own mom.” James grew a bit agitated. “She’s not my mom.” “Why not?” He looked down and didn’t answer. I didn’t bother pressing him. My tone was gentle but distant: “James, you were the one who didn’t want me first.” James looked up, his eyes incredibly complex. It was the first time I had ever seen that look in his eyes. It wasn’t a look a boy his age should have. James lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom.” He found a corner to sit in by himself and didn’t bother me again. Madison sneered. “And here I thought the kid loved his fragile little stepmom.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “When the white lotus first got married, a lot of people looked down on her. Your son defended her everywhere, treating her like royalty. Didn’t you always say he was a good kid? So good he actually got into fights defending the white lotus.” “Raising a son is worse than raising a dog.” I smiled and took a sip of my drink. Madison didn’t say anything else, just drank with me. After so many years, seeing the son I barely recognized, it would be a lie to say I felt absolutely nothing. But our mother-son bond was thin, and this was James’s own choice. Besides, too many years had passed. The emotion faded as quickly as it came. When the party ended, James was still sitting there, refusing to leave. I tried to call his dad, but realized I had deleted the number. I tried to call his mom, but realized I never had her number to begin with. Madison boldly patted her chest. “Let me handle it.” She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts for a long time. “…He blocked me.” Evelyn was getting sleepy. She yawned. “Mom, let’s just leave him here, he won’t die. I want to go home and sleep.” Madison laughed. “Your kid is fierce.” I picked Evelyn up. “Takes after her dad.” Thankfully, a friend who had forgotten something came back and made the call for us. “James is currently at…” “No time? What should we do?” “Okay, I’ll have Chloe call him a cab.” “Yeah, she flew back today.” “Oh? Suddenly you have time?” 4 By the time Arthur arrived, Evelyn had fallen fast asleep. She was nestled in my arms, her little cheeks flushed. “Chloe. It’s been a long time.” Arthur didn’t look much different from before. He was always handsome, and even time seemed to have treated him kindly. His dark eyes were deep, unreadable. I replied softly, “Long time no see.” Madison gestured toward James with her chin. “Mr. Sterling, hurry up and take your son home. He’s been refusing to leave.” James sat in silence, making no move to get up. I don’t know if I imagined it, but he seemed to exchange a look with Arthur. I turned to Madison. “Let’s go. It won’t be good if Evelyn wakes up.” Just as I stood up to leave, Arthur suddenly called out, “Chloe, have you been well lately?” I frowned. “Keep your voice down.” Evelyn stirred in my arms, a bit restless. Arthur lowered his voice, making forced conversation. “Whose child is this? She’s beautiful.” His words praised Evelyn, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Mine.” I had only been holding her for a little while, but my arms were already getting sore. Kids really do grow fast. Arthur’s smile froze. “What?” He stared blankly at Evelyn for a long time, then smiled again. “She’s adopted, right?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Biological.” Evelyn looked so much like me, a perfect copy of my excellent genes. She obviously looked like my biological daughter. Adopted? You’re the one who’s adopted! Madison sensed my annoyance. She stepped between Arthur and me, separating us. “It’s late. Mr. Sterling should take his kid home to sleep.” With that, we left. Madison looked back. “That old dog Arthur is still staring at you.” “Yeah. I’m staying at your place tonight.” “Stay as long as you want. What’s mine is yours.” “I want the master bedroom.” “? Don’t push your luck!” “The master bedroom is bigger. I have a kid to raise. Do you have a kid to raise?” “Hmph. You win.”

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Seven months pregnant, stuck at home on bed rest, and drowning in anxiety, I did what anyone in my spiral would do: I doom-scrolled. A thread on a forum caught my eye. “Should I take my husband to a labor pain simulation experience?” One reply, accompanied by a photo, stopped my thumb in its tracks. “Absolutely. My boyfriend did the simulation and swore he’d never let me go through that pain. But, joke’s on him—I’m about to become a mom anyway.” The comments were confused. “Wait, if he won’t let you go through labor, where is the baby coming from?” The original poster replied, the smugness practically radiating off the screen: “His wife has been trying to conceive for five years. She finally got lucky. But once that baby is born, it’s coming home to me.” She added, “She’s seven months along, sitting at home like a nesting hen, completely clueless that the baby she’s carrying isn’t hers.” Five years of infertility. Seven months pregnant. I knew the weight of that journey—the bruises from injections, the crushing hope. My blood boiled. I wanted to reach through the screen and strangle this woman for her cruelty. I kept scrolling. Then, I froze. She had posted a 4D ultrasound photo. My breath hitched in my throat. The air left the room. That was my baby. 1. I wasn’t crazy. I pulled the printout from my last appointment out of the drawer, my hands trembling. I placed it next to the screen. Every shadow, every contour. It was identical. No wonder. I had spent hours staring at that grainy face, searching for a trace of my nose, my eyes, and finding nothing. I clicked on her profile, desperate and terrified. I opened her most popular post. “Photo dump: Taking the boyfriend to the labor pain sim.” The boyfriend’s face wasn’t visible, but I didn’t need a face. I needed only a detail. And there it was. The man’s left hand, clenched in pain, bore a ring-finger tattoo. It was a small, stylized script. It was identical to Grant’s. My heart didn’t just break; it stopped. I clutched my heavy, swollen belly, gasping for air like a fish thrown onto the dock. It all made sense. Whenever I mentioned childbirth classes or labor simulations, Grant would shut down, acting strangely resistant. Because he had already done it. With her. He knew the bone-splitting pain of a level-ten contraction. And he had decided to let me be the vessel so his mistress wouldn’t have to suffer. The comments section was in an uproar. “Someone find the wife! You can’t let her hand that baby over to a homewrecker.” “Even if she gives birth, she won’t give up the kid. Once a side-piece, always a side-piece.” “God, I feel for that poor wife. Seven months… she can’t exactly walk away now.” The poster—this Ivy—was replying to them, unbothered. “Let her see it. Who cares? She’s older. It’s a high-risk geriatric pregnancy. If she terminates now, she’ll never have another kid.” “Don’t worry about us. My boyfriend says she’s unemployed and useless. Once the baby is weaned, he’s serving her papers.” “She has this thing about emotional purity—she’s fragile. She’ll probably get postpartum depression and leave on her own.” The arrogance was suffocating. But she was right. I did have a thing about emotional purity. I couldn’t stand lies. And because my third trimester had been a nightmare of nausea and fatigue, I had quit my job as a marketing director. The loss of identity had already frayed my nerves. Postpartum depression wasn’t just a possibility; it was a roadmap they had drawn for me. “Don’t be jealous, ladies,” she wrote. “The only reason it took five years is because I wasn’t ready to settle down yet.” “The fertility meds she thought she was taking? My boyfriend swapped them for birth control years ago.” I ripped open the nightstand drawer. The leftover bottles from our “trying” phase rattled as I grabbed them. Could it be true? Had I been poisoning my own dreams at his command? I called a courier service, my voice shaking as I gave instructions to run the pills to a private lab across town. I stared at the screen, waiting for her to post again. The thread went silent. Dinner time. I rubbed my belly, the skin tight and itchy. I had endured hundreds of needles for this life. My feet were so swollen they looked like rising dough. Could I destroy this life based on an anonymous internet post? My head buzzed with static. If I confronted Grant now, without hard proof, he’d gaslight me. He’d say it was the hormones. He’d call me hysterical. Then, a notification. A new reply. “Quit the hate, guys. My boyfriend just made a five-course meal. He stole away from work to feed me. He doesn’t have time for you trolls.” She posted a picture. The dishes—braised short ribs, garlic kale—looked exactly like Grant’s cooking. I called him. Straight to voicemail. Then, a text. “Norah, babe. Just finished overtime. I picked up your favorites. Home in 30.” I watched the clock on the wall, counting the seconds. Thirty minutes later, the digital lock beeped. “Norah? Come eat. I got the good stuff.” I walked into the kitchen. There, on the counter, were takeout containers. Inside was cold, leftover food. It wasn’t fresh takeout. It was the leftovers from the meal he’d cooked her. The tears came then, silent and hot. 2. “Norah? Is the baby kicking? Just hang in there a little longer.” Grant knelt before me, his hands warm as he massaged my edema-swollen ankles. He looked so concerned. So loving. “It’s all your favorites,” he crooned. “Sorry it’s late. Got stuck on a call on the drive home.” “Sit tight. I’ll heat it up.” He took the containers toward the microwave. My phone pinged. A new comment on the thread. “He made way too much, so he packed the rest for later. I picked out these cute Hello Kitty boxes myself. Can’t let my son go hungry.” I looked at the counter. The pink, childish Hello Kitty container sat there like a neon sign. It pierced me. The woman in the thread—the foolish, high-risk, unemployed incubator—was me. “All hot,” Grant said, returning with a spoon. “Open wide.” I looked at his gentle face. The handsome jawline I loved. I still didn’t want to believe it. How could the man who held my hair back when I vomited, who worked double shifts for our future, be this monster? We met through a matchmaker. He was steady, earnest. It wasn’t fireworks at first, but a slow burn. When the IVF finally showed two pink lines, he had cried harder than I did. I thought our love had moved the universe. I was wrong. I had just walked into a trap. I pushed the spoon away. “Grant,” I said, my voice trembling. “Do you think the clinic made a mistake? With the embryo transfer? I want to get checked.” The spoon froze in mid-air. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he masked it with a smile. “Norah, honey, have you been reading those trashy novels again? It’s a top-tier hospital. They don’t make mistakes.” “But I’m scared. I read that an amniocentesis can prove paternity. Grant, please. Let’s just check.” He set the bowl down, the concern in his eyes hardening slightly. “Norah. It’s invasive. It’s risky for the baby. Trust me. There is no mistake.” He tried to talk me down, but I was immovable. His phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “Work crisis. I have to take this.” He went into the bathroom and turned the faucet on full blast. Five minutes later, he emerged, looking relieved. “Okay, Norah. If it will give you peace of mind, we’ll do it. Let’s book the appointment.” “Really? But you just said—” “I love the baby,” he interrupted, gripping my shoulders. “But I love you more. If this anxiety is hurting you, we fix it.” I wondered what had changed his mind so quickly. On the way to the hospital, I refreshed the thread and found the answer. 3. “The old hag suddenly wants a DNA test. Maybe she saw the post.” “But I’m not scared. Let her check. A little piece of paper won’t stop me.” I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. “Norah? You okay? You look pale.” As the car pulled up to the hospital entrance, I grabbed Grant’s sleeve. “Let’s go to a different hospital. I don’t want to do it here.” Grant looked at me with genuine confusion. “Why? Dr. Keller has been with us since day one. It’s too late to switch now.” “You picked Dr. Keller,” I said. He squeezed my hand. “You’re just anxious. It’s the hormones. I’m just trying to secure a big year-end bonus for you and the kid. Look at me. I’m doing this for us.” In the past, I would have melted. Now, every word was a dagger. “Everywhere else is booked, Norah. Let’s just get this over with.” The needle pierced my abdomen. I was shaking so hard the nurse had to hold me down. Grant held my hand, smoothing the hair back from my forehead. “Patient needs to lie flat for observation. Results in 48 hours,” the doctor said. The stress must have knocked me out because I drifted into a black, dreamless sleep. When I woke up, Grant was gone. The elevators were packed, so I waddled to the stairwell to walk down a flight. At the landing, I saw him. He was standing with a girl—younger, petite, glowing. “Why are you here? It’s flu season,” Grant scolded, but his voice was tender as he pulled a mask from his pocket and placed it over her face. “I was worried about the baby. When are the results coming?” The girl pressed herself against his chest. “Don’t worry. It’s handled. The results will say what we need them to say. You’re going to be a mom.” “You need to go home,” he added. “No,” she stomped her foot playfully. “I want to be with you. The old lady is asleep anyway. I’m hungry. Take me to dinner?” Grant laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard in years, and brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “Fine. Whatever you want.” The look in his eyes—it was adoration. Pure, unfiltered love. Something he had never given me in five years of marriage. She whispered something in his ear, and he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her down the stairs. A sharp cramp seized my belly. I slid down the wall, sitting on the cold concrete floor. I called Grant. He answered, breathless. “Norah? You up? Big issue with the project—I had to rush to the office. Stay at the hospital, I’ll pick you up when I’m done.” “Grant, my stomach hurts. Can you come back? Please?” “Don’t be difficult, Norah. It’s almost year-end. If I lose this bonus, it impacts the family. Be a good girl.” I heard the girl’s voice in the background, a low whisper: “Hurry up, my hands are cold.” The line went dead. I stood up. I walked to the nurse’s station. I asked for Dr. Keller. “Norah? You want to induce labor? Now?” Dr. Keller looked horrified. “Do you understand what you’re asking? You’re seven months along. Your uterus is fragile. If we terminate this pregnancy, you might never conceive again.” I looked into her worried eyes and nodded. “I understand. I want it out. Schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning.” She opened her mouth to argue, but I pulled up the forum post on my phone and shoved it in her face. Her jaw dropped. 4. “This… this can’t be real. People make things up online, Norah. That is a human life.” Dr. Keller was my best friend’s neighbor. I trusted her. Before I saw Grant in the stairwell, I would have trusted the hospital with my life. But watching him nuzzle that girl destroyed my capacity for faith. “Wait for the DNA results,” she pleaded. “Just wait.” She started listing everyone who handled the samples during our IVF cycle. “If this is our mistake, the hospital will take full responsibility. I put a rush on the DNA test. We’ll know tonight.” Grant, meanwhile, was still playing the role of the devoted husband via text. He sent a car to pick me up. “Pulling an all-nighter, babe. Ordered you delivery. Eat well.” He hung up before I could speak. “Grant, I really need you,” I whispered into the dead line. “I don’t care about the money.” He texted back: “Stop being childish. The bonus buys the best formula for our son.” I took a deep breath. “Grant, have you ever done a labor simulation?” A pause. “Norah, I know you’re mad I’m not there, but why waste time on useless things when I could be earning for our future?” I heard the girl giggling in the background before he hung up. I sat on the sofa in the dark. My private investigator sent the file. Her name was Ivy. Grant’s high school sweetheart. The one who got away. She was from a broken home, “not good enough” for Grant’s parents. They forced him to break up with her after graduation. But they never stopped seeing each other. Ivy was a “lifestyle influencer” on Instagram. Scrolling through her feed, I saw a stranger wearing my husband’s face. A man who laughed, who cooked, who hiked. A man I didn’t know. While we were on our honeymoon, she was there. Ten days in the Maldives. She was in the room next door. It was her first post. A photo of Grant, wearing the wedding band I bought him, kissing her on the beach at sunset. And suddenly, the tattoo on his finger made sense. The scribble wasn’t abstract art. It was her initials. I watched all 349 of her videos. The latest one was filmed in a hotel room near the hospital. Grant’s clothes were draped over a chair. His belt—the one I gave him for our anniversary—was hanging off the back. Ivy commented: “Boyfriend’s cooking skills are elite. So full.” I typed a comment. “That belt belongs to my husband.” I attached a photo of Grant wearing it from that night. The comments section exploded. “Homewrecker!” “Wait, is this the pregnant wife?” My phone rang. Dr. Keller. Her voice was grave. “Norah. I booked the operating room. Tomorrow, 9 AM.”

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At Carter’s birthday party, he and his childhood best friend were the last to arrive. He protected her carefully, not letting her drink a single drop of alcohol. Meanwhile, as his girlfriend, I was forced to drink glass after glass right in front of him. A friend teased him, asking: “Doesn’t your heart ache for her?” Carter focused entirely on blowing on his best friend’s hot water to cool it down, not even bothering to lift his eyes. “She dared to lay a hand on Chloe. Let her learn a lesson.” When the party ended, it started to rain. Carter didn’t even pause his steps; he just took Chloe’s hand and left. I stood alone in the rain, thinking for a long time. I thought, Carter. Let’s just end it here. 1 My three-year relationship with Carter was probably coming to an end. A few days ago, I slapped his childhood best friend, Chloe. Carter got angry and hadn’t spoken to me in days. Today was his birthday, and I originally wanted to make up with him. But I didn’t expect him to show up with Chloe. Throughout the entire birthday party, Carter didn’t look at me once. Instead, his friends all crowded around me, constantly toasting me and forcing me to drink. In my drunken haze, I saw Carter pick up a cup of scalding hot water and blow on it for a long time. Chloe smiled, took it from him, and sipped it slowly. Perhaps I drank too much; the scene before me gradually became watery and blurred, and my stomach started to churn uncomfortably. Carter casually swept his gaze over the lively scene in front of him, his expression calm. A friend teased him. “Doesn’t your heart ache?” He quickly looked away, smiling carelessly. “I spoiled her too much.” “She dared to lay a hand on Chloe. Let her learn a lesson.” Someone, drunk and losing their filter, became a bit reckless. “Carter, if you don’t want her anymore, let your brothers know. Avery is pretty good-looking, I wonder how she tastes—” Before he could finish, a hand clamped over his mouth, and he was dragged out. Carter still had a faint smile on his lips, but anyone who knew him well knew he was furious. Carter was never a generous man. What belonged to him, even if he didn’t want it anymore, no one else was allowed to touch. Besides, Avery still suited his tastes quite well. By the time the party ended, it was already 1 AM. It was raining outside. Walking behind them, I saw Carter and Chloe leave together. He considerately opened the car door for her, and the car slowly drove away. Gradually, I was the only one left. I let go of my umbrella, and the rain began to beat against my face. Waves of pain washed over my stomach. I crouched in the heavy rain and cried out loud. It hurt so much. I figured I must have drunk way too much. That’s why it hurt so badly. I don’t know how much time passed, but the rain stopped hitting me. A man stood over me, holding an umbrella, his eyes entirely devoid of pity. He asked me: “Will you dare to do it again?” I stayed silent, and Carter’s eyes grew colder. After a long while, he seemed to sigh, reaching out to scoop me up in his arms. He gave in first. 2 I slept for three whole days. When I woke up, Carter wasn’t there. Our housekeeper was with me in the hospital room. “Ms. Avery, you’re finally awake! Mr. Carter was worried sick.” My reaction time was slow. It took me a while to ask: “Where is Carter?” The housekeeper unconsciously rubbed her nose, smiling without saying a word. Whenever she made that expression, it had something to do with Chloe. If it were the past, I would have called Carter non-stop, demanding he come back. But this time, I did nothing. There was still a dull ache in my stomach. With the doctor’s permission, the housekeeper fed me some plain congee. Just as I was about to lie back down and rest, the housekeeper finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. She asked tentatively: “Ms. Avery, aren’t you going to tell Mr. Carter you’re awake?” I shook my head. “No need.” Without saying another word, I closed my eyes. Memories flashed quickly through my mind. Right after graduating from college, I became Carter’s secretary. In front of others, he was the intimidating, unapproachable CEO of the Sterling Group. Behind closed doors, he was the gentle, considerate boyfriend who spoiled me endlessly. I was very content with my life, until Carter’s childhood best friend, Chloe, appeared. His attention was no longer solely focused on me. When we ate out together, Carter could carelessly forget I was in the restroom. Only after dropping Chloe off at home did he realize someone was missing. Then he would just tell me to take a taxi back. He’d brush it off with a light “I wasn’t paying attention.” After this happened a few times, I couldn’t find excuses for him anymore. I sensed the crisis in our relationship and explicitly asked Carter what he wanted. If he wanted to be with Chloe, I would bow out and give them my blessing. I don’t allow a third person in my relationships. Carter fondly tapped my nose, laughing heartily. “You little jealous thing. Chloe is just like a little sister to me.” Back then, I believed him. But why did Chloe, whom he saw as a sister… Act exactly like all those other women trying to sink their claws into him whenever she was in front of me? So, that day, when I saw Chloe curled up in his arms, letting him rub her stomach… I couldn’t hold back and slapped her. And Carter? He chose to protect his childhood best friend. From that day on, cracks slowly began to form in my heart. Carter must have been called back by the housekeeper. Through the ajar door, I heard an argument. “Didn’t the doctor say she wouldn’t wake up until tonight? Why is she awake so early?” A sweet female voice chimed in at just the right moment. “Carter, don’t be mad. I’m sure Ms. Avery won’t mind.” The man rubbed his temples, seemingly exhausted, but his tone carried a hint of indulgence. “You don’t understand. She has a terrible temper. Who knows how she’ll throw a fit at me this time.” Chloe’s sweet smile froze, but she quickly recovered her natural expression. 3 I cleared my throat after being woken up by their voices, and Carter quickly walked in. He crouched by the bed, gently stroking my forehead, asking with heartache: “Baby, are you still feeling unwell anywhere?” In front of outsiders, Carter never called me that. I knew this was his way of apologizing. Chloe’s face paled further, a flash of blatant jealousy in her eyes. I turned my head away, avoiding his burning gaze. “I want to be discharged.” Even though the doctor advised me to stay a few more days, Carter followed my wishes and handled the discharge paperwork. He had our family doctor on standby 24/7. After everything was settled, I didn’t say more than a few words to Carter. He stayed silent in the room before finally softening his stance. “I’m sorry. I crossed the line this time. I promise it won’t happen again.” But it was too late, Carter. On that rainy night, I had already made up my mind. “Carter, let’s just end it.” The man’s eyes darkened, and he suddenly laughed. “Avery, this is the first time you’ve threatened me with a breakup. Are you really that angry?” The smile on his lips faded, and his next words were soft, yet cutting. “I can coax you once or twice, but if you keep throwing these little tantrums, my patience will run out.” I knew the high and mighty Carter Sterling rarely humbled himself to coax anyone. He gave me an out, and I should have taken it. But I didn’t want to anymore. I still remembered how dark that night was, how cold the rain felt. So cold that the affection I had for him slowly froze into ice. I didn’t want to spend every day chasing his shadow anymore. I didn’t want to constantly guess the true nature of his relationship with Chloe anymore. I told myself. Carter, let’s just end it here. Without waiting for my answer, Carter left without a word. 4 After resting for a few days, I went to the office. All the way there, everyone was secretly staring at me. When I arrived, I found out that Chloe had also become Carter’s secretary. My desk was covered with her things. Seeing me return, Chloe didn’t get up. She lazily propped her head on her hand and shot me a provocative look. “While you were away, Carter asked me to help take care of him. You aren’t going to get jealous again, are you, Ms. Avery?” “Does Ms. Avery not have any childhood friends? Carter just bought me some pads and brought me a hot water bottle for my cramps. We used to do that kind of stuff all the time.” Yes, they did far more than just that. But this time, I wouldn’t let her few words rile me up. After going through this so many times, I already knew. Carter, just like her, didn’t see anything wrong with what she described. He said Chloe was just like his little sister. Their bond, forged since childhood, had long surpassed mere romantic feelings. Carter warned me not to tarnish their precious bond with my filthy thoughts. So, from now on, they could do whatever they wanted. I wouldn’t care anymore. I returned her smile. “It’s fine. You can do all those things freely from now on.” “Ms. Chloe comes from a good family, so naturally you know more than I do. Besides, an outsider like me has no place meddling in the bond between childhood friends.” When I turned around, I saw Carter standing in the doorway. Who knows how long he had been listening. His expression was dark. He just stared straight at me without saying a word. Chloe immediately jumped up and threw herself at him, gently shaking his arm and whining: “Carter, assign me a new desk. Ms. Avery looks a little angry.” “Can I just work inside your office? It’s so boring out here all by myself.” Carter’s gaze finally shifted from me, his voice gentle. “Stop acting up. I’ll get it sorted out in a bit.”

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My husband went with me to the spa to get a body treatment. The outspoken spa owner didn’t hold back. “Bro, looking at how wide your wife’s hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” “She’s got stretch marks all over, too. What do you mean you guys don’t have kids? Is she some retired escort or something?” “I’ve seen this a million times. They specifically look for honest guys like you to settle down with. You’ve been conned.” I had explicitly told this owner that my husband and I didn’t have kids due to health reasons. Yet, she was acting completely ignorant, playing dumb. It seemed she wasn’t after my wallet; she was after my husband. Unfortunately for her, she picked the wrong target. My husband was nothing more than a kept man living off my dime… … My husband, Arthur, and I both happened to have a rare day off. I decided to go with him to pick up the sports car he’d been dreaming of, and then he accompanied me to get a facial. I frequented this particular spa. The owner was blunt and spoke her mind, and I actually appreciated her straightforward personality. More importantly, her massage techniques were rumored to be the best in the industry. If I enjoyed the service this time, I was planning to discuss partnering with her to turn her spa into a franchise. Arthur dutifully held all the shopping bags from our earlier spree. As I walked into the treatment room, he called out, “Honey, since you’ve been so great today, I’m rewarding you with a hundred-thousand-dollar VIP card. Where do I sign up?” Seeing his smug little face, I jutted my chin toward the front desk. I completely missed the flash of calculation in the owner’s eyes. During the body treatment, the owner was clearly distracted. Her massage technique was sloppy and unprofessional. But her mouth wouldn’t stop running. “Is that your husband? Wow, you are so lucky. He’s gorgeous.” “And he just drops a hundred grand like it’s nothing! Where did you snag a rich guy like that?” For some reason, the word “snag” rubbed me the wrong way. I replied dismissively, “Yeah, that’s my husband. He’s just like that.” The owner ignored my annoyed tone and said with a hint of disdain, “Did you hook up with him while you were working retail? I’m telling you, the most important thing for us women is marrying a good man. Look at me…” I cut her off sharply. “What do you mean ‘hook up’? We had a normal relationship. It was love at first sight. Why does it sound so trashy coming from you?” Since when was this owner so incredibly chatty? Seeing I was actually angry, the owner pursed her lips. “You know how I am, I just speak my mind. It was a joke! Don’t take it so seriously.” “I’ll stop talking. I won’t say another word, okay?” Even though she stayed quiet after that, I felt incredibly irritated. The mood for relaxation was completely ruined. It wasn’t until she applied my face mask and left the room that the suffocating feeling lifted slightly. A little later, I needed to use the restroom and stepped out of the room. Right as I reached the door, I heard the owner chatting with Arthur. “Bro, is the lady in there your wife? She’s so lucky. You really don’t hold back when spending on her.” “But bro, looking at how wide her hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” Arthur frowned, clearly unhappy. “What are you talking about? My wife has never had children.” The owner gasped, covering her mouth as if she’d made a terrible slip of the tongue. “Her hips are so wide, I just assumed she’d given birth.” “What do you mean you don’t have kids? Is she a retired escort or something?” “While I was doing her body treatment, I saw stretch marks all over her. You only get those from having babies, right?” “Oh, I must have seen wrong. You know me, I have this terrible habit of just blurting things out.” The owner feigned a look of horror, acting as if she had accidentally revealed a terrible truth. The anger in my chest exploded into a raging inferno. Children were the absolute most sensitive topic for Arthur and me. We had been trying for years without success. The doctors said the issue was with me. Desperate to conceive, I took a bunch of “miracle” supplements my mother-in-law gave me. I later found out they were packed with hormones. They caused me to gain a massive amount of weight, and I had to work incredibly hard to lose it over the last few years. My skin had stretched and shrunk, inevitably leaving behind stretch marks. It was my deepest, most hidden insecurity. And now, this woman was broadcasting it loudly to my husband. It felt like my entire body was on fire. The owner kept going. “Bro, you look like an honest guy. I’m a straight shooter, so I’ll just tell it to you straight.” “The woman lying in there? She was probably turning tricks a few years ago. Having abortions ruined her body. That’s why she’s never had a kid but still has all the aftereffects.” “You’ve been played for a fool, you rich, clueless sugar daddy.” The owner patted Arthur’s shoulder, wearing an expression that screamed, ‘I’m just looking out for you.’ I let out a cold, sharp laugh and stepped out. “Oh really? So I found myself a clueless sugar daddy, and now you want to take over?” “Why don’t I just wrap him up in a bow for you!” Chapter 2 Arthur jumped like he’d been electrocuted and quickly scrambled over to my side. When the owner slandered me earlier, implying I had given birth because of my hips, Arthur should have immediately defended me. Instead, he hadn’t said a single word. He just stood there, dumbly listening to her talk trash about me. Half of my fury was directed at him. But I would deal with him later. As for the spa owner, I wasn’t going to let this slide. “Everything you just said? I recorded every single word on my phone.” “Get ready to be sued for defamation.” I waved my phone at her, a tight, cold smile on my face. Hearing this, the owner immediately plastered on a fawning, sycophantic smile. “Girl, you know how I am! I don’t have a filter.” “I was just joking around with your husband! Don’t be mad. Look, I’ll even slap my own mouth, okay?” She mock-slapped her own cheeks a few times, putting on a pathetic show of apologizing. “A joke? Why don’t you joke about yourself sleeping around until your brain rotted?” “If I stab you and then say ‘sorry’, does that mean I don’t face any legal consequences?” “Let me make this clear: this isn’t over. Furthermore, that hundred-thousand-dollar VIP membership my husband just bought? Refund it immediately. Otherwise, I’m calling the Consumer Protection Bureau to personally oversee your refund process.” Ignoring the owner’s frantic apologies trailing behind me, I turned on my heel and marched straight to my car. Right before I got in, I saw the owner weakly grabbing Arthur’s arm, looking like she was about to drop to her knees in front of him. But as she supposedly lost her balance, she very deliberately pressed her body against his. If I still didn’t understand what was happening, I would be a complete idiot. This bitch was trying to steal my husband! It took Arthur a full ten minutes before he finally strolled over and got into the car. He spent the entire drive nervously studying my face. Only after I finally shot him a glare did he cautiously speak. “Baby, how about we just let this go?” “Let it go? Your wife gets accused of being an escort, and you stand there like a spineless coward, and you’re telling me to let it go?” “I haven’t even settled the score with you yet. Someone slanders me like that, and you don’t even have the guts to defend me. Are you even a man?” Seeing I was genuinely furious, Arthur didn’t dare push it. He replied meekly, “I’m a business owner now, too. If I had started screaming at her right then and there, it would have been so embarrassing. Don’t I deserve some dignity?” “Dignity?” I scoffed loudly. “Then go spend the rest of your life with your ‘dignity.’ I’m staying at the office for a while. Don’t come looking for me until you figure out what you did wrong.” I slammed the door of my self-driving Xiaomi SU7 as it parked itself in front of me. It seemed Arthur had truly forgotten who held the power in this relationship. Ever since we got married and he got fired from his job, he had become a stay-at-home husband. Later, when I started having health issues, he claimed he needed to dedicate all his time to taking care of me and refused to go back to work. I gave him a six-figure allowance every single month, and I rarely ever asked what he spent it on. I always figured, he was a college grad from a good school, and an only child. If I couldn’t give him kids, the least I could do was make his life comfortable. Just last month, I even funded a private, upscale restaurant for him and spent a fortune hiring a top-tier PR firm to market it. It was actually turning a decent profit. He makes a few bucks, and suddenly it goes straight to his head. Now he’s talking to me about ‘dignity’. Chapter 3 That same afternoon, I received the hundred-thousand-dollar refund from the spa. I was so angry I didn’t go home for days, throwing myself entirely into my work projects. By the time I finally finished, half a month had passed. Right on cue, Arthur called. “Honey, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I was completely wrong.” “I just felt so insecure about relying on you financially. I was terrified you looked down on me, which is why I was so obsessed with saving face.” “I’m a man, too. Sometimes I just want my wife to look up to me. You understand, right?” “We’ve been through so much together. You know how much I love you.” Arthur was lowering his head and admitting fault. Even though I was still annoyed, I decided to let it go. Back when the doctors told me I likely couldn’t conceive, Arthur had fought his mother single-handedly and absolutely refused to divorce me. He even put her in the hospital from the stress of their arguments, but he never compromised. I believed he loved me. He just… needed his ego stroked a little. When I didn’t say anything, Arthur continued over the phone: “Today is your dad’s birthday, and it’s the Mid-Autumn Festival. To make it up to you, I booked a private room at that high-end medicinal cuisine restaurant, and I invited my parents too.” “We can all have a nice, happy family dinner together.” I thought about it and agreed. That evening, I went to the restaurant as planned. For years, Arthur and I had told everyone we were voluntarily child-free. His mother hated it at first, but eventually, she was forced to accept it. So, the family dinner was actually quite pleasant. Until someone completely ignored the waiters trying to stop them and barged into our private room. It was the spa owner. I had to admit, half a month later, she looked even more glamorous. I frowned, completely confused. I had only demanded a refund last time. I hadn’t actually called the police or sued her. What was she doing here? The owner suddenly dropped to her knees and grabbed my legs. “Please! I know I’m blunt and I offended you, but I’ll kowtow to you, okay?!” “My spa is just a tiny little business. Please, just let me go!” “I have a sick, elderly mother to take care of! I really can’t afford to lose this business!” She slammed her forehead against the floor three times. I was completely baffled. “I didn’t call the police. If your business is failing, what does that have to do with me?” I pulled my legs away from her in disgust and instinctively leaned back in my chair. “But you made such a huge scene at the spa that day! So many customers heard everything!” “They secretly recorded videos and posted them online! So many of my VIP members demanded refunds!” “I literally can’t survive anymore!” I honestly had no idea. I had been buried in work for the past two weeks and hadn’t spent a second online. But even so, what did that have to do with me? She brought this entirely upon herself. “So what do you want me to do? I can’t control what other people do.” The owner sobbed pitifully, looking like she was about to faint. “Just post a statement online! Say that everything I said that day was completely true, and that you only attacked me because you were embarrassed and exposed!” “I’m begging you! My mom needs money for her medication! I cannot lose this spa!” Hearing her insane demand, I almost laughed out loud. “You want me to publicly admit to your vile, defamatory lies?! Are you out of your mind?!” “Get out. You don’t belong here. If I ever see your face again, I’m calling the cops.” Chapter 4 It was honestly hilarious. To think I actually considered doing business with such a despicable person. Thank god I saw her true colors early on. Otherwise, my investment would have gone straight down the drain. I stood up abruptly. The owner, either from momentum or because I pulled away, dramatically collapsed backward. And landed perfectly across Arthur’s lap. Arthur jumped up as if he had been electrocuted. “Don’t touch me! Get away!” The owner, acting like a fragile, helpless leaf, was shoved aside by Arthur. I don’t know if she just decided she had nothing left to lose, or if her true malice simply took over. She suddenly stood up, pointed directly at my face, and started screaming: “You little bitch! I gave you an inch and you tried to take a mile!” “You ruined your own body sleeping around before you got married, and now you shamelessly claim you’re ‘child-free’? Spit! I despise cheap whores like you who live off men!” “I might have a sharp tongue, but every penny I earn is clean! Unlike you! You’re covered in stretch marks, your hips are wider than a woman who’s popped out eight kids, and you still have the nerve to pretend you chose not to have kids!” “If I were your husband or your mother-in-law, I’d throw you out on the street and tell you to go hang yourself!” Her sudden, vicious switch gave me whiplash. I was stunned for a second. SLAP! I instinctively grabbed my right cheek. The pain made my entire face go numb. My mother-in-law, her eyes bloodshot with rage, was trembling violently. She pointed at me and screamed: “I knew it! I knew there was no way my son would just randomly decide not to have kids! You’re just a barren old hen who can’t lay an egg!” “A cheap slut like you saw how honest my son is and decided to trap him!” “My son is a genius! He scored a 680 on his college entrance exams! Marrying a trashy girl from a trashy college like you is the worst luck he’s ever had! If I don’t beat you to death today, my name isn’t Martha!” My mother-in-law grew up working on a farm. Even though I had moved her to the city years ago and pampered her, she was still as strong as an ox. She lunged forward, shoved me violently to the floor, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and slapped me across the face again and again. My dad finally snapped out of his shock and kicked my mother-in-law hard, knocking her off me. Seeing his mother get kicked, Arthur flew into a blind rage. He punched my dad square in the face, knocking him to the floor. My dad’s head smashed directly into the sharp corner of a heavy wooden table. Blood gushed everywhere. My dad instantly lost consciousness. I was paralyzed with terror. My mom carefully laid my dad flat on the ground. I finally freed my hands to call 911. But the spa owner violently kicked my phone out of my hand. “Don’t let her call the cops! If she calls the cops, Arthur will get arrested!” Hearing that, my mother-in-law immediately grabbed my phone and threw it into a boiling pot of chicken soup. She blocked the door with her body, looking ready to murder anyone who tried to pass. “Let’s see who dares to arrest my son! You’ll have to step over my dead body!” I ignored the scalding heat of the soup and reached in to grab my phone, but it was already completely dead. By some horrible coincidence, my mom’s phone had died earlier that evening. “Arthur! This is your father-in-law! He’s always treated you so well! Call 911 right now!” I screamed frantically. But Arthur just stood there, watching coldly. “Honey, I have to say, you really pushed it too far this time.” “Your dad brought this on himself. Who kicks their own mother-in-law?” “If you promise, right here and now, that the second we walk out that door, you will not press charges against me… then I’ll call 911.” I looked down. My dad’s face was turning an alarming shade of pale. The blood was pooling, staining the floor a horrifying red. My mom was sobbing uncontrollably, holding my dad’s hand, shaking violently. Chapter 5 Waiters were pounding on the door from outside, asking what was wrong. My mother-in-law locked the deadbolt and kept her body pressed against the door. “Arthur, I promise you. The second we leave this room, I will absolutely not hold you legally responsible.” I swore, hitting my chest for emphasis. But then, the spa owner pulled out her phone, started recording, and shoved the camera right in my face. “Say that your dad hit his own head! Say that the reason you can’t have kids is because you ruined your own body sleeping around! Say it!” The phone was practically touching my nose. I looked at the man sitting comfortably in the captain’s chair. My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Arthur, is this really what you want? Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” I stood up and stared dead into the owner’s camera. “I, Chloe Vance, declare that my father’s head injury… was caused directly by Arthur.” Thud. A heavy arc flew through the air. I kicked the spa owner squarely in the chest, sending her crashing into the wall. I spun around, grabbed a heavy meat fork from the dining table, and leaped in front of my mother-in-law. I jammed the fork directly into the side of her neck, right over her carotid artery. I only pushed it deep enough to draw blood. “Open the door. Or I will sever her artery and let her die right here alongside my dad.” Seeing the blood dripping down her neck, my mother-in-law started wailing like a banshee. She opened the door immediately. Waiters rushed in and carefully carried my dad out. My mother-in-law, clutching her bleeding neck, kept alternating between demanding someone call the police for her, and demanding they call an ambulance for her. Nobody paid any attention to her. After all, I was the one who owned this restaurant. Thank god my dad was okay. The doctor said if we had been even a few minutes later, he wouldn’t have made it. The moment I saw my dad was out of danger, something inside my brain simply snapped… The entire situation had been too chaotic for me to think clearly. But looking back now, the whole night was full of red flags. For example, how did the spa owner know exactly where our private family dinner was taking place? For example, why did the owner call Arthur by his first name when telling his mother to block the door? For example, when the owner fell onto Arthur’s lap, his reaction of jumping up seemed incredibly exaggerated and theatrical. My woman’s intuition screamed that this wasn’t just a simple coincidence. I accessed the security cameras in our house. I scrubbed back two weeks. Nothing unusual. I checked Arthur’s credit card statements for the last month. Just normal expenses—food, drinks, shopping. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, a single transfer to a real estate agency caught my eye. Following the paper trail, I quickly discovered the truth: Arthur and the spa owner were actually living together. Arthur had used my money to rent an apartment for the owner, located just a few blocks from her spa. I secretly trailed them for a few days. Sure enough, the husband who hadn’t shown his face once while my dad was in the hospital… Was playing the role of a loving, devoted husband to the spa owner. They went grocery shopping together, cooked together, walked the dog together, and even showered together. Since they were so happy, I decided to give them a very special gift. Chapter 6 I pressed charges against Arthur for Aggravated Assault and simultaneously filed for divorce, demanding he leave with absolutely nothing. The restaurant’s security cameras had captured him violently punching my dad and knocking him into the table in crystal-clear high definition. I was not letting this go. When Arthur was arrested and thrown into a holding cell, he looked at me with pure disgust. “You really don’t know how good you have it. You’re barren, and I didn’t even care, and you still called the cops on me.” “Lily was right. You’re just a cheap slut who found an honest guy to settle down with. Otherwise, how could a woman possibly have this much money?” “All that weight you gained ‘trying to get pregnant’? Lily told me everything. You gained that weight carrying a baby for your rich sugar daddy!” “If you want a divorce, fine! You think I’m scared of you? I’m not a loser. I have my own business now!” Arthur had completely lost his mind, rambling incoherently. The suffocating knot that had been tight in my chest for days instantly vanished. If he wanted to tear off the mask, fine. From now on, we walk our separate paths. I will thrive, and I will make sure you suffer. Arthur had signed an ironclad prenup before we got married. He couldn’t touch a single penny of my assets. Except, of course, for the private restaurant I had invested in for him. Furthermore, he was sentenced to six months in jail for assault and ordered to pay $20,000 in restitution. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was enough to make him miserable. As for the spa owner, Lily, I wasn’t letting her off the hook either. I hired a private investigator. Turns out, she was actually married. Her husband worked out of state year-round, so they rarely saw each other, giving Lily the perfect opportunity to play the field. I mailed photos of Lily and Arthur cohabitating directly to her husband. Sure enough, that very night, I received a video. Lily’s husband had beaten her to a pulp. They had smashed everything in their house to pieces. Lily, pointing a bloody finger at her husband, screamed that he was a useless loser. She told him not to get in the way of her getting rich. She bragged that once Arthur got out of jail, she was going to be a wealthy socialite. She said that even if he didn’t want a divorce, she was filing for one anyway. The couple fought for an entire night. Since I have such a kind heart… I also arranged for Lily’s mother-in-law to be brought into the city from her rural village. This old lady was a force of nature. She sat outside Lily’s apartment complex and screamed curses at her for seven days and seven nights straight. She even slept on a piece of cardboard by the front gate. She hurled every profane insult in the book, loudly proclaiming to the entire neighborhood that Lily was a cheap prostitute selling herself in the city. She claimed Lily’s “spa” was actually a brothel. And now that Lily had snagged a rich sugar daddy, she wanted to dump her son? Not a chance in hell. She swore that as long as she had breath in her lungs, she would never let Lily live in peace. The apartment complex Lily lived in was the one Arthur had rented. Now, her reputation in the neighborhood was completely destroyed. Desperate to marry Arthur, Lily sold her spa for pennies on the dollar. She paid her mother-in-law a $200,000 settlement just to get the divorce finalized. Then, she quietly moved into a rundown, anonymous apartment complex to wait for Arthur to get out of jail. I knew exactly what she was thinking. She was still dreaming her sweet little dream of becoming a wealthy socialite! Well, I was here to tell her: Keep dreaming! Because Arthur’s precious, one-and-only private restaurant was on the verge of bankruptcy.

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Every year on my birthday, my boyfriend would ditch me at the last minute because of his junior, Sienna. This year, I’d booked a restaurant, put on the dress he said he loved most, and waited for three hours. Finally, I got a message from him: “Sienna’s heartbroken and feeling down. I’m just going to talk to her for a bit. You go ahead and eat.” This time, I didn’t beg or cry. I finished my steak alone and ordered myself a slice of cake. I made a wish: I hoped that by next year’s birthday, I wouldn’t need him anymore. When Justin arrived, he saw me saying goodbye to the waiter. He looked confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I smiled. “It’s fine. Go be with Sienna. I’m used to it.” 1 Back home, I headed straight for the guest room. Justin followed me, puzzled. “What are you doing in the guest room?” “Sleeping.” I opened the closet and began to pack my pajamas and toiletries. “What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you mad?” I didn’t answer, simply and calmly placing my belongings, one by one, into a storage bin. Justin walked over, intending to take my hand, but I sidestepped him. “I really had something important come up. Sienna was particularly upset today…” he began to explain. “I know.” I cut him off, my tone flat. “Go be with her. I understand.” He froze, probably not expecting that response from me. Sienna was his junior, who later became his assistant. I’d always felt he showed a clear favoritism towards Sienna. In the past, every time he’d broken plans because of her, I would cry, rage, and demand answers hysterically. But now, I was truly exhausted. I carried the storage bin towards the guest room. Justin still stood rooted to the spot, his face etched with bewilderment. “You… you’re still angry?” He followed me. I turned to look at him, stating calmly, “I just want to sleep in a different room. Nothing else.” “But…” “Good night.” I closed the guest room door. Lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt strangely peaceful. Tonight marked our third birthday together since we started dating, and it was the third time he’d stood me up. The first year, he said there was an urgent need for him at an art exhibition. I waited at home until midnight, the cake hardening. The second year, he said Sienna was sick and needed his care. I went to the restaurant alone, ate a mango cake I was allergic to, and ended up in the emergency room. This year, he said Sienna was feeling down again. Every single time, it was Sienna. I closed my eyes, recalling the wish I’d made tonight. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. I woke up early the next morning, quickly washed up, and left the house. Justin was still asleep; I didn’t wake him. I used to always prepare breakfast for him, but today, the dining table was bare. This time, I only bought soy milk and steamed buns for myself. 2 At three in the afternoon, I was in a meeting when Justin messaged me: “Sienna’s landlord is reclaiming the apartment, and she has nowhere to stay. Can she stay at our place for a few days?” I stared at the message, recalling two years ago when we first started dating. I’d suggested inviting my best friend over, and he’d said, “Home is a private space; maybe not have outsiders over.” Back then, my best friend was an outsider. Now, Sienna wasn’t. I didn’t reply. When I got home from work, Sienna was already in the living room. She wore Justin’s white shirt, her hair damp, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I recognized the shirt; it was one of Justin’s favorites. He’d usually tell me, “Don’t wrinkle it,” even if I just touched it. Justin saw me return and immediately walked over to explain, “Her clothes got wet in the rain, so I…” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, changed my shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He followed me, lowering his voice. “You’re not angry?” “Why would I be angry?” I opened the fridge, starting to prepare dinner. “You said she had nowhere to stay; it’s perfectly normal for her to stay a few days.” Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as if checking if I was being sarcastic. I didn’t look at him, just calmly washed and chopped vegetables. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room: “Justin, there’s a new mystery movie out tonight. Will you come with me to see it?” I heard Justin say, “Sure, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then he turned to me, tentatively asking, “Do you… want to come too?” I dried my hands, calmly stating, “No, I don’t like watching movies. You two go.” He frowned. “Don’t you love watching movies?” I smiled, offering no reply. Two years ago, every time I asked him to watch a movie, he’d say, “Maybe another day, Sienna and I are swamped.” I asked him over a dozen times; he never agreed once. After that, I stopped asking. Now, he couldn’t even remember what I liked. Justin stood at the kitchen doorway, wanting to say something but stopping himself. In the end, he left with Sienna. I sat alone at the dining table, eating the meal I’d cooked myself. My phone rang; it was my best friend. “How was your birthday?” she asked. “It was good.” My voice was flat. “Who are you kidding? I saw your social media post—just a picture of cake. Where was Justin?” I paused for a few seconds. “He had something to do.” “Sienna again?” My best friend’s voice rose. “I told you…” “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I cut her off. “Talk later, I’m eating.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. It was dark now; they must be at the cinema. Would Sienna lean on his shoulder, just as she had countless times before, saying, “Justin, you’re the best”? I picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewing slowly. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered the candlelight I saw when I made my wish. In that instant, I felt like I had truly let go of my expectations for him. At eleven o’clock, I heard the lock turn. Justin was back, a smile still on his face. He saw me washing dishes, paused, and came over, offering to help. I said, “No need, go rest.” He stood behind me, staring at my back for a long time. “What… what’s wrong with you?” he asked. I dried my hands, turned to face him, and calmly asked, “Nothing, was the movie good?” “It was alright.” He answered somewhat distractedly. “Why aren’t you angry?” “Why should I be angry?” I countered. He was speechless. Probably because the old me would have made a huge fuss over something like this. But now that I wasn’t fighting, he was unnerved. Men, they really are a pain. 3 Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided Justin. I left the house at seven every morning and didn’t return until ten at night. Even on weekends, I’d schedule meetings with clients or stay at my best friend’s place. When Justin invited me to dinner, I’d say, “I have a client meeting.” When he asked me to watch a movie, I’d say, “Working late, maybe next time.” When he asked why I was so busy, I’d say, “Lots of projects lately.” The truth was, I just didn’t want to be in that house. After Sienna moved in, the living room became her domain. Her cosmetics were on the coffee table, her clothes hung on the balcony, and her and Justin’s laughter always drifted from the living room. That house felt less and less like my home. On Friday night, I browsed rental listings on my phone. My best friend messaged me: “Are you moving out?” “Yeah, I want a change of scenery,” I replied. “Finally coming to your senses?” I didn’t answer the question, just kept looking at listings. Justin walked up behind me, saw my phone screen, and his face changed. “You’re looking for a place?” His voice was a little strained. “Yeah.” I locked the screen and put my phone down. He sat opposite me, his eyes complex. “Are you moving out?” I looked up at him, calmly stating, “This apartment is yours, and Sienna lives here too. I don’t feel very comfortable.” “Sienna’s moving out in a few days,” he quickly explained. I smiled. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway.” “You’re saying you’re used to it again.” He frowned. “What exactly do you mean? I told you, I only see Sienna as a sister.” I didn’t answer, just got up to get water from the kitchen. Justin followed me, pressing, “Are you upset with me?” “No.” I took a sip of water. “I just think it’s better to live somewhere more comfortable.” “But this is our home…” “It’s your home.” I cut him off, looking into his eyes. “I’m just temporarily staying here.” He froze. I turned and went back to my room, hearing his frustrated voice just before I closed the door: “Claire, you actually don’t believe me!” The next day, a colleague from work invited me to lunch. Mid-meal, she suddenly asked, “Are you and Justin doing okay?” I paused. “Yeah, why?” “Just… is he good to you?” My colleague hesitated. “I don’t mean to stir trouble, but I saw him with another girl the other day, and they were very intimate.” I smiled, saying nothing. My colleague sighed. “He cheated, why don’t you break up with him?” Then, she paused. “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.” I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, you don’t look happy at all. She wanted to say, he seems to care more about that Sienna. She wanted to say, you deserve better. But I knew all these things myself. That evening, Justin messaged: “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. We haven’t eaten together in ages.” I replied: “No, I have a client meeting.” “Another client meeting?” He sent a question mark. “You’ve been busy every day this week.” “Yeah, a lot of projects lately.” My phone vibrated several times, all messages from him. “What exactly are you busy with?” “I miss you.” “Are you avoiding me?” I looked at these messages, finally just replying with two words: “No.” Then I silenced my phone and continued looking at rental listings. My best friend was right; I really should move out. I had already scheduled viewings for this weekend. 4 On Tuesday morning, I caught a cold. My head was spinning when I woke up, and my throat felt like it was being cut. I took my temperature: 102.5°F. I sent Justin a message: “I have a fever.” He quickly replied: “Drink plenty of water, take some medicine, and get some rest.” I stared at those six words for a long time, finally just replying with an “Okay.” I lay in bed until the afternoon, my head growing dizzier. I tried to get up to get some water, but the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I almost fell. My phone rang. It wasn’t a call, but a message from Justin: “Sienna’s blood sugar is low, and she’s not feeling well. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I’ll be back later.” I looked at this message, then at my own temperature, which had climbed to 103.1°F, and found it oddly ironic. I made myself some cold medicine, took a fever reducer, and lay back down. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. I drifted in and out of sleep, the room quiet, just me alone. A little after ten, I heard the lock turn. Justin and Sienna were back. I heard his footsteps entering, and his voice talking to Sienna: “You go to your room and rest well. Call me if you need anything.” A little while later, he pushed open my door, saw me lying in bed, and walked over, asking, “What’s wrong?” “Cold.” I answered with my eyes closed. “Has the fever gone down?” “Not yet.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my face away. “Then get more rest.” He stood for a moment, then turned and left. I heard his footsteps fade, then voices from the living room. “Yeah, she’s resting… I bought you fruit and medicine… It’s nothing, you just rest well…” I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. He bought Sienna fruit and medicine. But when I was home with a fever, he only replied, “Drink plenty of water.” My best friend came to see me that evening. Seeing my fever-flushed face, she swore angrily: “Where’s Justin? Where is he?” “He’s taking Sienna to the hospital again,” I said weakly. “She has low blood sugar.” “Low blood sugar?” My best friend’s voice rose. “You’re almost at 104°F, and he’s with someone else for low blood sugar?” I said nothing. My best friend poured me water and gave me medicine, scolding me while taking care of me: “I really don’t know what you see in him. Two years, has he ever been good to you?” I swallowed the medicine, so bitter I wanted to throw up. “I don’t know either,” I said. “Maybe I just liked that he’s handsome.” “You…” My best friend sighed. “Forget it, I’m tired of talking to you.” She stayed with me until midnight, leaving only after confirming my fever had broken. 5 In the morning, I was still asleep when I heard the door lock click. Justin returned, carrying things. “Did you buy breakfast?” I walked over. “Yeah.” He turned to me. “Sienna has low blood sugar. She loves the soup dumplings from this place, so I specifically waited in line to buy them.” My hand froze. Sienna emerged from her room, her face lighting up when she saw the breakfast. “Wow, you really went and bought them? You remember even the casual things I say.” Justin smiled. “You’ve loved these since you were a kid; of course I remember.” I stood there, watching the two of them chat and laugh. I felt like an outsider. “You eat too.” Justin noticed me, gesturing to the porridge on the table. “I bought you plain porridge.” Plain porridge. The most ordinary kind of porridge. I suddenly felt that our love was like this bowl of plain porridge, utterly tasteless. I walked to the dining table and sat down, looking at the bowl of porridge, and suddenly asked Justin, “Do you remember what I like to eat?” Justin froze, clearly not expecting such a question. “Never mind, forget I asked.” With that, I stood up and picked up my bag to leave. Justin followed me. “Where are you going?” “To buy breakfast.” I said without looking back. “Didn’t I buy…” “I don’t eat plain porridge.” He followed me out, catching up to me downstairs. I stopped, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” He stared at me, wanting to speak but holding back. I said calmly, “Two years, and you’ve never bought me breakfast once.” He froze, a hint of panic flashing across his face. I continued, “But you remember Sienna loves soup dumplings, and you even went and queued for them. This isn’t the first time, is it?” “I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then I turned and left. His voice came from behind me: “Can you stop being so petty all the time!” I didn’t look back, just quickened my pace. When I got home, Justin was sitting on the sofa, his face grim. Sienna was no longer in the living room. As I walked past him, he suddenly spoke, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.” I stopped, looking at him. “I’ll remember what you like to eat, I’ll buy you breakfast, I’ll…” He stood up, his gaze earnest. “No need.” I interrupted him. “Really, no need.” “Why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, then calmly said, “I don’t need it anymore.” His face changed. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, just returned to the guest room and closed the door. Sitting on the bed, I opened my phone and saw a message from the real estate agent: “Ms. Wright, the landlord of the apartment you liked has agreed to rent it to you. You can sign the contract this week.” I replied: “Great, I’ll sign on Wednesday.” After sending the message, I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. My wish was slowly coming true.

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On the third year of my runaway bride escapade, Jack found me in the back kitchen of a small diner. My hands were chapped from the cold, raw from washing dishes. He frowned, his handsome brow furrowed. “Alice, make your choice. Come back with me and be Mrs. Blackwood, or keep slaving away here.” Without a word, I put down the dish I was holding and went home with him. From then on, I became the perfect fiancée in Jack Blackwood’s eyes. I no longer begged for his love. I no longer demanded his fidelity. Even when the young student he was keeping showed up at our doorstep, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Jack thought I had finally learned my lesson. But what he didn’t know was that I was an awakened NPC. Washing dishes for three years was just to accumulate points. Now that I had enough points, I could finally change my character settings. 1. “Alice has learned her lesson.” In the private dining room, Jack exhaled a smoke ring, proudly boasting to his friends. “No way, the once wild and proud Miss Spencer would actually be well-behaved? When she gets here, let’s see just how well-behaved she truly is, haha.” Jack said he was throwing a welcome dinner for me, insisting on my attendance. It turned out he just wanted to show off the results of his three years of “taming” me. I stood outside the door, listening to the malicious laughter from within, my fists clenched tight. But then, I replaced my expression with a gentle smile and pushed the door open. Sure enough, besides Jack’s cronies, the college girl he was keeping, Chloe, was also there. She was clinging to Jack like a little bird, feeding him sliced mango. Seeing me, her face instantly went pale, and she quickly stood up, looking scared. “Alice, you’re here. I didn’t mean to be here, I’ll leave right away.” Three years. Her acting skills had improved significantly. Three years ago, on the eve of my wedding, I discovered Jack’s relationship with Chloe and went to confront her. Before I could even say much, she fainted. Afterward, Jack came to me and said: “Alice, the position of Mrs. Blackwood will only ever be yours, but you also need to understand that I, Jack Blackwood, will never have just one woman in my life.” At that moment, my entire world crumbled. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the man I had grown up with, my childhood sweetheart, the one who had promised to pluck the stars and moon for me and love me forever. I cried, I made a scene, even storming into the lavish apartment Jack had set up for Chloe and smashing everything. All I got in return was Jack’s disgust and gossip throughout the upper-class circles about how the Spencer heiress had turned into a shrew. Now, looking at Chloe’s innocent and harmless face, my smile grew even more gentle. So, it’s an act, is it? I can play that game too! Jack pulled her back to sit beside him, his face full of indulgence. “I called you here, you don’t need to leave.” He then turned to me. “You still have some capacity for generosity, don’t you, Alice?” I hid the disgust in my heart, walked over, poured a full glass of wine, and offered it to Chloe. “My dear, I used to have a terrible temper. I apologize for that now. Thank you for taking such good care of Jack these past three years. I’ll be relying on you in the future too.” With that, I downed the wine. A deathly silence fell. Chloe, instead, looked uncomfortable. Jack’s expression was unreadable; he asked in a low voice, “Alice, are you sincere?” I smiled radiantly, “Of course, Jack. Don’t worry, what you used to worry about will absolutely never happen again. I’ll get along well with her.” The room again fell silent, then Jack’s friends burst into raucous laughter. “Jack, tell us, what’s your secret to making our Miss Spencer so well-behaved?” “What’s there to teach? Alice loves Jack to death. She must have been frantic when Jack ignored her for three years, so she had to come back and grovel.” I lowered my head and smiled. I once believed I loved Jack to death too. Until I awakened. I learned that I was supposed to run after Jack on our wedding day, only to be hit by a car and die, forever becoming his cherished memory, his “white moonlight.” But I chose to run away from the wedding, and that’s when the System appeared. The System said that if I accumulated enough points, I could change my character settings. I diligently washed dishes for three years, finally earning enough points. I used all my points to wish for a life swap with Jack. The System agreed. It said that if I could smoothly transition to the wedding day, then I would become the richest person in Northwood City. Now, the wedding was three days away. I raised my glass, gently and generously, to everyone present. “I truly love Jack Blackwood, so you all simply must come to our wedding.” 2. “Hahaha, look at our Miss Spencer, so sensible for the wedding. Jack, why don’t you bring Chloe back to the bridal suite tonight?” “She’ll surely cooperate.” Chloe looked bashful, but her eyes, when they met mine, were full of provocation. “I don’t mind, but I wonder if Alice does.” Just then, the clock struck midnight, and the wedding countdown became two days. My “showing face” task from yesterday was complete. I picked up my bag and smiled at Jack. “Jack, you can take Chloe home. I’m a little tired, so I’ll be heading out.” I expected him to proudly boast to his friends, but instead, his face suddenly darkened, and he looked at me with a complicated expression. What surprised me even more was that he actually took Chloe back to the bridal suite. “There’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight, and Chloe is scared. I’m bringing her over to stay for the night.” Jack said this while watching my expression. If this were before, I would have lost my mind, screaming and smashing things. But now, I considerately and generously took Chloe’s hand. “Alright, dear. Which room do you prefer? Pick one yourself.” Jack’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed my hand, his voice laced with anger. “You really don’t mind?” I subtly pulled my hand away from his. “I just want to be your most understanding Mrs. Blackwood.” Jack gritted his teeth. “You better be.” Chloe bit her lip and whispered, “Alice, I like the master bedroom.” I immediately instructed the staff to clear out the master bedroom for Chloe. Then, I packed a couple of outfits, preparing to leave. Chloe was actually doing me a favor; staying in a hotel was far more comfortable than staying in the bridal suite. Just as I was about to leave, Jack grabbed me again. He finally lost his temper and said, “Alice, you’d even give up the bridal suite? You don’t have to pretend like this. You can cry, you can scream. I’ll take her away right now.” Seeing him so enraged, I was a little puzzled. Now, I had finally become the sensible, obedient, and generous Mrs. Blackwood he wanted. What more could he be dissatisfied with? I gave him a bright smile: “Don’t worry, Jack. No matter what you do, I won’t run away from the wedding this time.” Jack angrily flung my hand away: “Suit yourself. I’d like to see how long you can keep up the act.” The door slammed shut in front of me with a bang. I merely smiled, unaffected, and enjoyed a comfortable bath at the hotel. The exhaustion from three years of washing dishes slowly began to dissipate. Jack, however, sent me a message then: [Come back as soon as you’ve calmed down. I’ve already sent Chloe back. Don’t worry, I won’t let her threaten your position as Mrs. Blackwood.] Along with the message came a pink diamond necklace, which he had bought for hundreds of millions three years ago. At the time, I always thought it was Jack’s wedding gift to me. It wasn’t until I saw it around Chloe’s neck that I went insane, storming into the villa Jack had bought her and causing a huge scene. The result was a slap from Jack and rumors of the Spencer heiress turning into a shrew. Now, looking at the necklace, I merely smiled faintly, tossing it into the trash can without a second thought. I slept comfortably at the hotel and woke up to go to the bridal shop for my scheduled wedding dress fitting. This wedding dress was one I had personally designed for myself three years ago. At the time, I desperately wanted to be the most beautiful bride in the world, so I poured all my heart into it. Later, after I ran away from the wedding, the dress was ruined, but Jack had someone custom-make an identical one for me. Unexpectedly, the wedding dress was now being worn by Chloe. She stood there in the perfectly fitted gown, turning to smile at me. “Alice, do I look pretty?” The identical pink diamond necklace around her neck gleamed brilliantly, momentarily making me lose focus. Chloe, however, had already walked up to me, her expression contorted, her voice sharp. “You think pretending to be generous will make Jack fall back in love with you?” “Hilarious. To tell you the truth, the necklace he gave you is just a fake. Mine is the real one.” “Also, what’s the big deal if you ran away? He still stayed with me last night, and he was very… passionate with me.” I looked at her self-satisfied face, and just as I raised my hand, an angry shout came from behind me. “Alice, don’t you dare go crazy!” 3. Jack nervously pulled Chloe behind him, shielding her, and glared at me. “Just because of a wedding dress, are you going to start throwing a tantrum again?” Chloe looked wronged. “Jack, I might never get to wear a wedding dress in my life. I just wanted to secretly borrow a little of Alice’s happiness.” “Chloe, it’s not your fault.” They were playing the role of a loving couple. I walked forward and straightened the crooked necklace around Chloe’s neck. “Don’t be nervous. I just think your necklace goes perfectly with the wedding dress. I saw it was crooked and wanted to fix it for you.” Chloe froze. Jack’s face darkened. After a long moment, Chloe shrieked as she finally reacted. “Alice, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you back the wedding dress right now.” She fumbled nervously, trying to take off the dress while backing away, but she tripped and fell to the ground. With a rip, the wedding dress tore open at the bust, exposing a large expanse of Chloe’s cleavage. “Alice, I knew you were faking it all along. Is a necklace really worth all this? Do you really have to humiliate Chloe to be happy?” Jack rushed over and roughly pushed me away. He embraced Chloe and took off his jacket to cover her. Crash! The glass behind me shattered, and I, unable to dodge in time, fell onto the broken shards. Glass pierced my palms, and blood trickled onto the floor. I hissed in pain. Jack’s pupils constricted as he saw my bleeding hand, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face. He stood up, intending to help me, but Chloe conveniently collapsed into his arms. “Jack, my foot hurts so much, I think it’s broken! What should I do?” Jack hastily swept her into his arms. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” The two of them hurried away. The shop assistant looked troubled. “Miss Spencer, the wedding dress is severely damaged. I’m afraid we won’t be able to repair it in two days.” I casually pointed to another dress nearby. “I’ll wear that one.” The assistant hesitated. “Miss Spencer, that dress is a few years out of style.” “It’s fine. Any one will do.” The wedding itself was no longer important, so what did the dress matter? Jack sent a message: [That necklace was just borrowed by Chloe for two days. I’ll get it back for the wedding.] I smiled and sent a “hug” emoji in return. He typed for a long time before finally sending: [Alice, you’ve really changed. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a wedding of the century.] Wedding countdown: one day. My parents found me, saying that my running away from the wedding had disgraced the Blackwood family, and that for the sake of our relationship and reputation, I needed to apologize to my future in-laws. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. When I first discovered Jack’s affair, I went home and proposed breaking off the engagement. To my shock, my father slapped me hard. “Do you have any idea how many interests are tied to the alliance between our two families? You want to break off the engagement over such a trivial matter?” “Unless you’re dead, you will crawl to that wedding if you have to.” I was held captive at home and only found an opportunity to escape on the wedding day. They cut off all my cards, allowing Jack to oppress me in various ways for three years. If it weren’t for my awakening, I probably would have died out there long ago. This time, I didn’t resist and obediently followed them to the Blackwood family estate. Unexpectedly, Chloe was also there. When we arrived, she was sitting with my future mother-in-law, laughing and eating bird’s nest soup. 4. When Mrs. Blackwood saw me, her previously smiling face instantly darkened. “You have the nerve to show your face here? If it weren’t for our families being old friends and business partners, you wouldn’t even step foot in my house!” “Look at you, you don’t even compare to Chloe!” “I’m not afraid to tell you, Chloe is pregnant. This is my Blackwood family’s first grandchild!” She was still rattling on when Jack, coming downstairs, stopped her. Jack looked at me with a completely justified expression. “I only found out about it yesterday when I took Chloe to the hospital.” “Don’t worry, this changes nothing. The child will be registered under your name when it’s born. You will be Mrs. Blackwood no matter what.” A flicker of resentment crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly put on a smile, stood up, and affectionately took my hand. “Alice, don’t worry, I just want to be by Jack’s side. I won’t compete with you for anything.” She pretended to embrace me, but whispered in my ear, her voice chilling: “For tomorrow’s wedding, I’ve prepared a grand gift. You’d better be ready for it.” Oh, I raised an eyebrow, then I’m utterly looking forward to it. Jack, seeing our harmonious relationship, was deeply moved. He came over and took my other hand. “Alice, I can forgive you once, but not twice. Tomorrow, you absolutely cannot run away from the wedding again.” “Why would I?” I deftly pulled Chloe back to Mrs. Blackwood’s side, considerately telling her. “Sit down and rest quickly. You need to be careful with your body when you’re pregnant.” My parents were dumbfounded. Mrs. Blackwood wore a constipated expression, staring at me in disbelief. I then smiled at everyone and said, “Don’t worry, I will definitely be at the wedding tomorrow.” Jack observed my expression, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Alice, I know this situation has caused you distress. Don’t worry, I will treat you well after we’re married.” I looked back at him, my smile deepening. On the wedding day, Jack fulfilled his promise, making the spectacle even grander than three years ago. He invited hundreds of media outlets and live-streamed the entire event, declaring that he would make me the most beautiful bride. I stood in my outdated wedding dress amidst the incredibly lavish setting, ignoring the mocking glances of the guests. As the wedding progressed to the ring exchange, Jack’s phone rang abruptly. Chloe’s voice came through. “Jack, I thought about it, and I’ve decided to leave with the child. Don’t worry, I’ll raise him well. I wish you a happy marriage.” Clatter. Jack’s phone dropped onto the red carpet, and he turned to leave. I called out loudly, “Jack, are you running away from the wedding?” His face went ashen as he looked at me. “Alice, you’re the most understanding. I have to go after Chloe. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you with another wedding.” He left without looking back. Amidst the guests’ whispers, I received a system notification: [Wedding critical node triggered, character change complete.] At the same time, there was a boom outside. Guests cried out in panic: “Oh no, someone’s been in a car accident outside!”

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