Category: English

At the highway toll station, I stared nervously at my phone. The heart in the box would fail if not transplanted into the patient within half an hour. Driver Bob leaned close to the toll collector’s ear and whispered something. Instantly, the toll collector’s expression changed. “Get out. Open the box. Inspection.” She pointed at the box containing the donated heart, and my own heart skipped a beat. “Sir, I can’t open it. This contains—” Bob cut me off. “That’s a heart. Evidence of her murder.” “No, this was donated by a patient. I’m a doctor.” The toll collector pressed 911, and I was forced to the ground. They seized the box. At this moment, only 29 minutes remained before this heart would fail. The boy in bed 18 had been waiting for this heart for half a year. Today, he’d finally received good news. The director sent me to the neighboring city to retrieve the heart. This heart was originally donated to a patient in the neighboring city. But the previous patient temporarily didn’t meet surgical requirements. The heart was urgently reassigned to our hospital. “Remember, be quick. Otherwise the heart will fail.” I memorized that instruction and followed the ambulance driver to retrieve the heart. Before we even got on the highway, the ambulance suddenly had a blowout. Bob took me onto a tightly sealed minibus. Getting off the highway, I kept my eyes glued to my phone. Fifteen minutes’ drive remained to reach the hospital. That boy would be saved. But Bob leaned close to the toll collector’s ear, saying something in a low voice. The toll collector’s expression changed instantly. She quickly walked to the back window and barked an order at me. “Get out. Open the box. Inspection.” She pointed at the box containing the donated heart, and my heart skipped a beat. I clutched the box tightly, my face showing difficulty. “I can’t open it. This contains—” Bob interrupted me. “See? I told you. She definitely won’t let you open it. That’s a heart. Evidence of her murder.” I stared at him in shock, not understanding why he would say something so absurd. “No, this was donated by a patient. I’m a doctor.” The toll collector heard me admit the box contained a heart. Instantly, she forced me to the ground and seized the box from my arms. “Don’t open it! Once you open it, this heart will be ruined.” The toll collector’s hand paused. I pulled out my always-carried ID. “Doctor from City Central Hospital. Wesker.” Bob snatched the ID. “Fake. How hard is it to get a fake ID? Don’t let her fool you.” “If this murderer escapes with stolen goods from your station, you’ll all be held responsible.” I stared at him intently. “Bob, what are you talking about? You know someone at the hospital is waiting to be saved.” He pointed at the temporarily switched minibus and opened a news link. “See? This type of vehicle is perfect for murder. If you don’t believe me, have the police come investigate.” Only then did I realize why Bob had suddenly insisted on switching vehicles. He’d planned this all along. But right now, saving a life was urgent. I quickly explained. “I really am a doctor from City Hospital. This heart was donated by a patient. It’s about to fail. Can you let me deliver the heart to the hospital, then investigate?” “You believe her? Let her go, and you think she’ll come back?” “She says it was donated? Make her show proof.” The toll collector extended her hand. “Where’s the proof? Show it. If you can prove it’s real, we’ll let you go immediately.” Because it was a temporary reassignment, none of the paperwork was ready yet. “I don’t have the paperwork. The hospital is processing it.” “Once it’s ready, I’ll definitely bring it to you.” Bob looked at the toll collector. “She doesn’t even have proof. Do you believe she’s a doctor, or believe me that she’s a murderer?” I stared at Bob angrily. “Bob, that’s a human life. You’ve seen that boy. When you drove the ambulance, he always greeted you. How dare you falsely accuse me?” His eyes reddened. “Precisely because I’ve seen that boy, I can’t bear to let him die without understanding why. He’s only in his teens. You killed him.” “Bullshit! This is false accusation. It’s illegal. You’ll go to prison.” “Explain quickly. That child can’t wait.” Time passed second by second. I was frantic with anxiety. “I’m not afraid of your threats. For that child’s sake, I can’t let you go.” “Since you refuse to repent, I’ll have to present evidence.”

In the dim footage, it was inside this very vehicle. I looked like a demon, pulling out that heart and placing it in the box. “I secretly filmed this to report her.” The toll collector’s face went deathly pale, her lips trembling. “It’s fake. This video is AI-generated.” “If you’re a doctor, why didn’t you come out in an ambulance?” The toll collector seemed to think of something key, asking me hoarsely. “When we left the hospital, it was an ambulance. He was the driver. But midway the tire blew out, so we temporarily switched vehicles.” “If you don’t believe me, you can call the donation center to ask.” I dialed the donation center’s number. “Hello! May I ask if a patient donated a heart today?” After receiving an affirmative answer, I breathed a sigh of relief. This phone number clearly showed the donation center’s name. Bob couldn’t claim I was faking it. “Which hospital received it?” Bob raised his voice to ask. “City Second People’s Hospital. It was delivered early this morning.” After the brief female voice fell silent, the toll collector compared my ID. “You’re lying. This is a fake ID.” I quickly explained. “Because the paperwork is being processed, the donation center doesn’t know the heart was temporarily reassigned to First People’s Hospital.” I suddenly remembered the box had a serial number. “Ask them the serial number on the box.” One digit at a time was read out. When the last digit was read, the toll collector looked at that blurry number. “The last digit isn’t clear. Is this an 8?” “No, this box didn’t come from us.” After the cold female voice disappeared, I saw the triumphant smile on Bob’s face. When I was receiving the box, I was signing the transfer form. The box was in his hands. He probably tampered with it then. “See? That heart was delivered to Second People’s Hospital. This box is fake. She’s a murderer.” The toll collector’s expression grew worse. “Officer, where are you now? A heart was found in the vehicle. The vehicle is suspected to be a murder scene.” “The person is detained. Please come investigate quickly.” Twenty minutes remained. After twenty minutes passed… That heart capable of saving a life would stop beating. My brain raced, thinking of solutions. At that moment, the phone rang. Seeing the notification “Department Director,” my heart leaped with excitement. Now, there was hope.

“Wesker, where are you? Don’t you know the hospital urgently needs that heart? What’s going on?” Hearing the department director’s questioning voice felt like hearing heavenly music. “Director, I’ve been detained at the highway toll station.” “What? Who dares detain an ambulance?” “There was an accident. When we got on the highway, we weren’t in an ambulance.” “Bob. He’s accusing me of being a murderer.” I quickly explained everything that had happened. The department director raised his voice. “Put the toll station staff on the phone.” “Hello! I’m the director of the transplant department at First People’s Hospital. That heart is urgently needed. We’re processing the paperwork.” “Can you be flexible and let her deliver the heart first? In 18 minutes, the heart will fail.” The toll collector remained silent. “Don’t believe her. It’s a scam. She’s in on it.” Bob roared. “She can’t provide any proof. She can’t prove where this heart came from at all.” The department director recognized Bob’s voice. “Bob, why exactly are you reporting Wesker?” “How about this—you detain Wesker, and you find someone to accompany Bob to deliver the heart to the hospital first.” Only 16 minutes remained. I nodded quickly. “No problem. I’m willing to wait here.” As long as the heart could be delivered to the hospital in time, I was willing to wait here for investigation. “No way. The heart is evidence.” “They murdered for this heart. Don’t fall for it.” Bob desperately blocked them, making the toll collector, who had been wavering, stop in her tracks. “The police are coming soon. As soon as we investigate clearly, I’ll let her go.” “Snap.” The phone was hung up. “This is a human life—two human lives. If it’s delayed, no one can bear that responsibility.” Not wanting this heart to fail, I pleaded desperately. “Or detain both of us, and you find someone to deliver it.” The toll collector stopped paying attention to me, clutching that box tightly. I prayed. I prayed for the police to arrive quickly. When I heard the siren, I glanced at my phone. Thirteen minutes remained. My phone flashed twice. It was a Twitter message from the department director. “Please look. This must be the processed paperwork sent by the hospital.” The toll collector impatiently opened her phone. I snatched it. “This is all the paperwork. Everything’s complete.” “This is the patient’s donation consent form. This is the declaration signed when the Second Hospital patient gave up transplantation. This is our hospital’s heart transfer consent form.” The toll collector carefully examined each document. “Looks correct to me. Maybe we should let her go.” Hearing this, I quickly straightened up, ready to depart at any moment. Though time was tight, with a police car escort we could still make it. “No. All these documents can be forged. Don’t fall for it.” To convince the toll collector, Bob opened ChatGPT and entered commands. Soon, documents identical to those on the phone appeared. “AI is so powerful. It can generate anything instantly. Don’t let her fool you.” Looking at the identical documents, the toll collector grew troubled. “The police are coming anyway. Wait a bit longer. Once the investigation’s done, you can leave.” I watched the approaching police with a heart like dead ashes. These dozen-plus minutes—I could wait, but the heart in that box couldn’t. The boy who’d spent five years in a hospital bed sustained by machines couldn’t wait. “Who made the report?” Bob stepped forward. “Me. I’m reporting her for murder. The box contains a heart. It’s evidence.” “This vehicle is the crime scene.” I stepped forward quickly, explaining at the fastest speed. “Ma’am, after we inspect the vehicle, if we can rule out suspicion, we’ll take you to the hospital.” “Fine! Please hurry. That’s a human life.” Even though Bob had switched vehicles, I’d only been sitting in the car for an hour holding the box. How could it be connected to a murder scene? “Captain, come look at this.” The team leader took one look and kicked me down. “Cuff her. Take her away.”

“Why are you arresting me? Have you made a mistake?” The team leader looked at me. “Made a mistake? See for yourself. The car is full of blood traces.” Looking at the glowing luminol, I was shocked. I stood there stunned. “Impossible. I only sat in the car for a while. How could I have murdered anyone?” “I’m begging you, contact the hospital again.” “Even if you arrest me, can you please deliver the heart to the hospital first?” His brow furrowed tightly. “That child has been waiting for this heart for years. In just over ten minutes, the heart will fail.” I took the opportunity to call the director. “Wesker, I sent you the paperwork. Why haven’t you arrived yet?” “Director, this is Police Captain Brown. Talk to him.” The director’s tone was anxious as he explained to Captain Brown. “Captain Brown, we’ve already sent someone to the toll station. Can you give the heart to our staff first, and have Wesker cooperate with your investigation?” Bob shouted. “The crime scene has been discovered. You want to let her go?” “I told you, she murdered for this heart.” “If you let her go and this heart disappears, you’ll all pay for it.” Bob’s categorical words frightened the police. “I’m sorry. This heart is the most important evidence in this case.” “Until we confirm where the blood in the car came from, this heart cannot leave police supervision.” The director was about to plead when a nurse’s shout came through the background noise. “Director, bed 18’s heart has stopped. Resuscitation needed.” The call ended abruptly. I glanced at the time. Only five minutes remained. No way to reach the hospital now. This heart was wasted. I hoped bed 18 could be resuscitated. In the police car, Bob sat next to me. As the informant, he endlessly fabricated facts that didn’t exist. Ding. Twitter popped up a message. “Wesker, the patient in bed 18 has died. That heart failed. The hospital wrote it off.” My chest felt like it had taken a hammer blow. I struggled to breathe deeply. “Wait at the police station to cooperate with the investigation. The hospital has already sent someone.” Bed 18 was young. He had such a good chance of survival. But because of Bob’s baseless false accusation, he lost his chance at rebirth. I stared at Bob furiously. “Why did you lie? Why did you falsely accuse me?” “Lie? False accusation? The police found massive blood traces in the car.” “You’re the murderer.” “You know best whether I killed anyone. Bed 18 is gone.” Hearing this, his eyes moved rapidly. “He deserved it. That heart didn’t belong to him in the first place.” I didn’t understand. Usually he was kind. He treated bed 18 well. Every day he brought bed 18 fresh things from outside. Today, he’d also volunteered to come with me to retrieve the heart. How could he suddenly report me? How did those inexplicable blood traces appear in the car?

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At the start of the year, our CEO, Mr. Mercer, patted my shoulder heavily. “If we hit $5 million in profit, the core team is splitting 10% of it!” I went home and told my husband, Mark, that I’d be bringing in around $80,000. He was ecstatic, talking about how we could finally make a massive dent in our mortgage. On December 23rd, just before the holidays, my phone buzzed with a direct deposit notification: $2,800.00. I stared at that number for a long time, convinced it was a typo. When Mark asked how much I got, I told him $2,800. The spatula in his hand slipped and clattered onto the kitchen floor. I went straight to Finance to demand the ledger. Linda, our lead accountant, didn’t even look up from her monitors. “The financial reports aren’t for your eyes just because you want to see them. You aren’t a shareholder.” Fine. If that’s how it is, we’ll settle this debt in three months. 1 December 23rd. 3:10 PM. The year-end bonuses just dropped. “Your salary account has received a deposit of $2,800.00.” The open-plan office was dead silent. Everyone had their heads down, staring at their phones. No one said a word. I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. That afternoon at the start of the year was still vivid in my mind. Mr. Mercer had slapped the conference table, his voice booming. “Our profit target this year is $5 million! The core team splits a 10% bonus pool. Let’s crush it, everyone!” We had all clapped. Dave, sitting right next to me, had excitedly whispered that we’d be taking home high five-figures easily. We crushed the target. The company pulled in $5.2 million in profit. We over-delivered. And my cut was $2,800. Dave leaned over, keeping his voice low. “Chloe, what did you get?” “$2,800,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “You?” His expression shifted uncomfortably. His lips twitched. “Yeah… about the same.” He immediately spun back to his monitors, refusing to meet my gaze again. I stood up and marched straight to the Finance department. Linda was at her desk, typing furiously. “Linda.” She didn’t look up. “Need something?” “I want to see the bonus distribution reports.” Her typing stopped. She finally looked up, her eyes evasive. “Take it up with HR.” I turned on my heel, my heart hammering against my ribs. HR was at the end of the hall. Sarah, the HR Manager, was halfway through applying her lipstick. Seeing me march in, she smiled pleasantly and set her mirror down. “Chloe! What’s up?” “The bonus,” I said. “Earlier this year, we were promised 10%…” Sarah cut me off, her tone instantly cooling. “That 10% is based on net profit.” “Net profit?” I stared at her. “Our operating profit was $5.2 million.” Sarah capped her lipstick. “Chloe, do you have a degree in finance?” I didn’t answer. “Net profit is calculated after audits. Executive bonuses are factored into operating costs. The math is flawless.” She picked up her coffee mug, taking a casual sip. “It’s all written clearly in the company bylaws.” I took a deep breath. “Then I want to see the financial reports.” Sarah laughed. It was the kind of laugh that physically grated on my nerves. “The reports aren’t for your eyes just because you want to see them. You aren’t an accountant, and you aren’t a shareholder.” I stared at her for ten full seconds. I couldn’t force a single word out of my throat. Finally, I turned and walked out. The heavy office door clicked shut behind me, sounding like a vault locking. The drive home was suffocatingly quiet. The traffic lights blurred in front of me. Only one number looped in my brain. $2,800. This time last year, I promised Mark we’d be getting $80,000. He had smiled so brightly, talking about finally getting ahead of our suffocating mortgage. Now, it was $2,800. I pushed the front door open. Mark was in the kitchen stirring a pot of pasta. He glanced over his shoulder. “Did the deposit hit?” I nodded. “It hit.” “And?” I shrugged off my coat. My voice felt like sandpaper. “$2,800.” The spatula slipped from Mark’s hand and smacked against the counter. “What did you just say?” “$2,800.” I slumped onto the sofa. “The company claims the pool is based on net profit.” Mark’s face drained of color. He quickly set the spatula down, turned off the stove, and walked into the living room. “You said $80,000! How are we supposed to cover the mortgage gap?” “I’ll figure something out.” “Figure what out?!” Mark’s voice cracked. “Did you fight back? Did you say anything to them?!” “I tried. They said it’s corporate policy.” Mark stared at me, his eyes brimming with a toxic mix of disappointment and rage. “Chloe, why are you such a doormat? For three years, all you’ve done is bury your head in your code. What else do you even do?” “When people steal your credit, you stay quiet. When the company literally robs you, you stay quiet.” His voice broke. “Even a corporate drone deserves better than this!” I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Mark turned around, walked into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. I sat alone in the living room, staring blankly at the cold, unserved dinner on the counter. 2 My phone vibrated a few times. It was a couple of empty, corporate-speak texts from my coworkers. “Keep your head up, Chloe. Let’s push hard next year.” “Sucks about the bonuses, but the company is growing!” I didn’t reply to a single one. I placed the phone face-down on the coffee table. From the bedroom, I could hear Mark crying. It was muffled, but in the dead quiet of the apartment, it was deafening. I stood up, walked out onto the balcony, and lit a cigarette. The smoke dissipated quickly in the freezing winter wind, just like my sacrifices over the past three years. That all-nighter in June, where I wrote 3,000 lines of code by myself to land the $1.5 million Apex Dynamics contract. The massive server crash in September, where I dragged myself out of bed at 3:00 AM and coded for four straight hours to fix it. Every single time, Dave took the microphone in the morning meetings to claim the glory, while I sat quietly in the back with a coffee. Every single time, it was, “Oh, and Chloe helped a bit too.” I crushed the cigarette out and went back inside. The bedroom door was still shut. I didn’t knock. I just lay down on the sofa. I barely slept. My mind was a chaotic loop of spreadsheets and Mark’s bitter words. The next day was Christmas Eve. As per tradition, we were driving to my parents’ house. Mark woke up early to pack the car. He didn’t speak a single word to me the entire morning. The drive to my hometown was suffocating. Several times I opened my mouth to break the ice, but one look at his icy profile made me swallow my words. We arrived mid-afternoon. My mom had a massive holiday spread waiting, her face lighting up when we walked in. “You’re here! You must be exhausted. Sit, sit!” My dad walked out of the den and patted my shoulder. “End-of-year bonus come through?” I froze, shooting a quick glance at Mark. “Yeah. It did.” “Well?” My mom walked over, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. My throat tightened. “$2,800.” My dad’s hand stopped mid-air. My mom’s smile shattered. “How much did you say?” my dad asked, his brow furrowing deeply. “$2,800.” The living room went dead quiet. The only sound was the faint bubbling of a stew from the kitchen. Mark dropped his duffel bag. He let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Her company played her.” My mom looked heartbroken, but she forced a weak smile. “It’s… it’s okay. Next year will be better.” My dad just sighed heavily, turned around, and walked into the kitchen without a word. Christmas Eve dinner was incredibly depressing. The holiday specials playing cheerfully on the TV felt like a mockery. Mark barely ate, just stared down at his phone the entire time. I picked at my food. Everything tasted like ash. Eventually, I put my fork down and said I was full. My mom looked at me, hesitating, before softly saying, “Eat a little more, honey. Don’t starve yourself.” Later that night, as we sat by the fireplace, my dad lit a cigar and sat next to me. “Chloe, you aren’t a kid anymore. You need to learn how the real world works.” “What do you mean?” “Office politics.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “Just keeping your head down and doing the work gets you nowhere.” “Look at that coworker of yours, Dave. He knows how to play the game, right? You need to learn from him.” I didn’t answer. I just stared at the glowing embers in the fireplace. “I know you think it’s unfair, but that’s reality.” He patted my knee. “Accept it. That’s just how people are.” I turned to look at him. I wanted to scream that I refused to accept it. But in the end, I swallowed my pride and just nodded. 3 When we drove to Mark’s family’s house for Christmas Day, his mood was even worse. He scrolled through his phone the entire drive, sighing heavily at least a dozen times. Parked in his parents’ driveway was a brand-new, silver Audi. It gleamed perfectly in the winter sun. Mark’s younger brother, Kevin, was standing on the porch. When he saw us pull up, he grinned from ear to ear. “Chloe! Mark! Merry Christmas! I heard you got a massive payout this year, Chloe!” I forced a stiff smile. “It was okay.” “I pulled $15,000 this year.” Kevin patted the hood of the Audi. “Just enough for the down payment on this beauty.” He walked over, practically radiating arrogance. “What about you, Chloe? You must’ve gotten way more than me, right?” Mark answered coldly from behind me. “$2,800.” Kevin’s grin froze. A flash of genuine shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by a sickening look of pity. “Oh… well… that’s not terrible.” His tone instantly became polite and distant. The sudden shift was almost laughable. Inside, my mother-in-law was bustling in the kitchen. She greeted us enthusiastically. “Chloe! Sit down, dinner is almost ready.” Kevin’s wife, Jessica, was sitting on the couch holding their newborn. She smiled warmly. “Hey guys, Merry Christmas.” At the dinner table, my father-in-law poured me a glass of wine, chuckling. “Chloe worked so hard this year.” “Just doing my job,” I said, picking up the glass. “I heard your company had a killer year?” he probed gently. “It was good. $5.2 million in profit.” My mother-in-law’s eyes lit up. “Then your bonus must have been incredible!” Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Kevin put his fork down. Jessica held her baby a little tighter. Even the extended relatives visiting for the holidays paused, waiting for my answer. I set my wine glass down. “$2,800.” The air in the room evaporated. My mother-in-law’s smile vanished. My father-in-law’s hand hovered mid-air, unsure whether to drink his wine or put it down. Kevin actually snorted a laugh before quickly covering it up with a fake cough. Jessica whispered entirely too loudly, “I told you, tech is a dead-end if you aren’t management.” “You gotta pivot to sales or leadership,” Kevin said smugly. “What’s the point of just being a code monkey?” My mother-in-law looked deeply uncomfortable. She forced a smile. “Chloe… maybe it’s time to start looking for a new job?” “If they’re making that much profit and tossing you pennies, they’re just playing you for a fool.” “Exactly,” my father-in-law nodded. “You have to show some ambition. You can’t just let people walk all over you.” Mark slammed his fork down. His voice was ice. “I lost my appetite.” He stood up and stormed into the guest bedroom. I kept eating. Bite by bite. Very slowly. Everything tasted like cardboard, but I kept chewing and swallowing mechanically. Kevin looked at me with a mix of pity and sheer superiority. “Chloe, do you want me to put a good word in for you at my firm? We need IT support.” “The pay won’t be anywhere near what you’re making now, but you know how the market is.” I looked up at him and smiled softly. “I appreciate it, but no thanks.” “Then what’s your plan?” Jessica asked. “You can’t just keep doing this.” I put my fork down and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “I already have a plan.” My mother-in-law breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. It’s time you started looking out for yourself.” 4 After dinner, I went into the guest room to find Mark. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. When I walked in, he turned his head away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Who are you apologizing to?” he asked the window. “You should be apologizing to yourself.” “Three years, Chloe. Three years. Besides writing code, what do you actually know how to do?” His voice trembled. “When someone takes credit for your work, you say nothing.” “When your company steals your money, you say nothing.” “And now, my parents and my little brother look down on you.” “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?” I stood behind him. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain. But the words stayed stuck in my throat. Mark stood up. “I need some space. Get out.” I turned and left. The hallway was freezing. I leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. Outside, I could hear kids playing and families laughing. Every house was filled with joy, and I was standing here feeling like a punchline. The smoke blurred my vision. I thought back to the day I signed my profit-sharing contract. Mr. Mercer had clapped me on the back. “Keep up the great work, Chloe. The company takes care of its own.” Looking back, his definition of ‘taking care of its own’ was vastly different from mine. I crushed the cigarette out and walked back to the living room. Kevin was still bragging to his dad about his new car—the interest rate, the maintenance package. My mother-in-law was washing dishes, looking at me with pity she couldn’t hide. I sat in the corner of the sofa, pulled out my phone, and scrolled aimlessly. My thumb swiped past holiday greetings and cheerful photos, but my brain didn’t process a single word. All I could hear were those voices. “Why are you such a doormat?” “What’s the point of just being a code monkey?” “You have to show some ambition.” I locked my phone, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. Something was quietly fermenting inside my chest. A spark, catching fire, burning hotter and brighter by the second. 5 It was late when we finally got back to our apartment. Mark hadn’t spoken a word the entire drive. The second we walked in, he went straight to the bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room. I didn’t turn on the lights. The streetlamps outside cast long, fractured shadows across the hardwood floor. My phone buzzed. It was a message in the company group chat. Dave had posted a photo: A sunny beach in Cabo, a margarita, and a girl in a bikini. His caption: “This is how you spend the holidays.” A barrage of thumbs-up and jealous emojis followed. I stared at that photo for a long time. Then, I closed the app. I walked into my home office and booted up my laptop. My system administrator privileges were still active. I had full backend access to the financial reporting system. I opened the dashboard. The numbers loaded onto the screen, so blindingly bright they made my eyes water. Operating Profit: $5.2 million. Administrative Expenses: $3.5 million. Net Profit: $1.7 million. My mouse hovered over “Administrative Expenses” for a long time. Then, I clicked on the itemized breakdown. Executive Bonuses: $1.5 million. Consulting Fees: $1.1 million. Team Building: $700,000. Miscellaneous: $200,000. I dug deeper. The recipient of the $1.1 million consulting fee was an LLC named “Summit Management Consulting.” The registered CEO? Emily Mercer. Mr. Mercer’s wife. I took a screenshot and kept scrolling. Under “Team Building,” there was a $700,000 expense for an “Overseas Market Research Retreat.” The location? The Maldives. The attendees: Mr. Mercer, the VP, and the CFO. The date was last November. I remember November. I spent three straight weeks pulling all-nighters in the office, single-handedly patching the security vulnerabilities for the Apex Dynamics launch. While they were “researching” in the Maldives. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. I scrolled down from the $1.5 million executive bonus pool and found Dave’s name. $80,000. He got $80,000. I kept scrolling, page by page. My hands grew colder by the second. The $1.5 million executive pool was split among 12 people. The remaining $1.7 million “Net Profit” was the pool they used to calculate our 10% dividend. 10% of $1.7 million is $170,000. And there were 73 “core employees.” I did the math. $170,000 ÷ 73 people ≈ $2,328. With some minor performance adjustments, that’s exactly how my $2,800 was born. They artificially crushed the profit down to $1.7 million, funneled millions into their own pockets through shell companies and vacations, and then tossed the leftover crumbs to us as “charity.” Legalized embezzlement. Beautiful, bulletproof accounting. Money that was rightfully mine. Wiped out by the magical phrase “Net Profit.” I closed the financial portal and opened a different folder. Three years of system logs. Every single line of code I had ever committed. Every timestamped optimization. The “Dynamic Auto-Balancing Algorithm”—the beating heart of our entire software architecture. I was the only person who understood its core logic. I stared at the code for a long time. Then, I opened a blank document and started working. I carefully stripped the core algorithm out of the main system architecture, repackaging it as an independent, proprietary module, completely rewriting the dependency logic. The clacking of my mechanical keyboard echoed loudly in the silent apartment. The winter wind howled against the glass.

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On Valentine’s Day, I discovered that the gold jewelry from our home safe was being shown off on the livestream of a college student my husband sponsored. Just this morning, I had asked my husband to cash in that gold. It was life-saving money for my father. On the screen, Maya Reed smiled coyly. “This is real gold from my sugar daddy. Let’s see who dares to say he isn’t the real deal now.” My hands trembled as I dialed my husband’s number. My father had suffered a severe stroke and was in the ICU. It was costing thousands of dollars a day. That gold was supposed to be his lifeline. I called over a dozen times, but he hung up on every single one. He only replied with one text. [I’m busy.] Right at that moment, his laughing voice came through the livestream. “Baby, let me see who’s jealous of you.” I put my phone down and dialed 911. It didn’t take long before the couple’s public display of affection was abruptly cut short. Through the screen, I heard a muffled, stern voice. “City Police Department. We’re here to investigate a grand larceny case involving stolen gold.” 1 Ever since we got married, Arthur would gift me gold every year. Bracelets, bullion, custom ornaments—he bought it all. He always said it was to make up for the expensive bridal jewelry he couldn’t afford when we first tied the knot. But now, all of those things were sitting in another woman’s livestream. Being flaunted as tokens of their love. The sheer irony of it made me want to laugh. The electronic lock on the front door beeped twice, and Arthur walked in, bringing the chill of the winter night with him. The moment he stepped inside, he launched into a furious tirade. “Elena, did you have the cops arrest Maya?!” His voice was full of utter disbelief and rage. “Do you have any idea that by calling the cops, you’ve ruined her life?! She just graduated! How is she supposed to get a job or live a normal life with a felony record?” “You know how hard she worked to get through college! You’re going to destroy her over a little bit of gold?” I hadn’t even said a single word, yet he was already painting me as the villain. The burning agony that had been searing my chest all day suddenly froze over in the face of his coldness, leaving me completely numb. “A little bit of gold?” I curled my lips into a mocking smile, my eyes burning. “Arthur, I told you clearly this morning to take the gold from the safe and cash it in. You said you were busy. You said you didn’t have time.” I pulled up the screen recording I had saved and shoved the phone in his face. In the video, Maya’s delicate face was zoomed in, and her sickeningly sweet voice echoed from the speaker. “Is this what you were busy with? Busy calling her ‘baby’ on a livestream? Busy watching her show off the tokens of love you gave her?” Arthur’s face went completely white, then rapidly flushed a deep, angry red. “Elena, listen to me, I can explain…” He softened his tone, trying to sound reasonable and placating. “Maya’s family is in a really tough spot. Her dad has terminal cancer and is in a hospital back in her home state. The daily medical bills are suffocating her. She only reached out to me because she was completely desperate. I’ve sponsored her education for years; how could I just abandon her now?” “And about that gold… I just lent it to her as a prop for her videos, to see if it could help her get some traffic. All that stuff she said on the livestream was just a scripted act. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d overreact exactly like this.” “There is absolutely nothing going on between us! Elena, how could you think so poorly of me?” His brows were knitted tightly together, his eyes brimming with the look of a falsely accused victim. Watching his performance, I almost wanted to give him a standing ovation. He was so brazenly twisting the truth, deflecting the real issue, and packaging his filthy affair as some noble act of charity. “Helping her?” I scoffed, opening my mobile banking app to the transaction history page. “Does helping her require wiring her cutesy, romantic amounts like $1,433 and $5,200? Does helping her require you to spend Valentine’s Day and our anniversary with her?” “Arthur, save this bullshit to fool yourself. Don’t say it out loud and disgust me.” Arthur’s expression froze. He suddenly raised his voice, trying to overpower me with sheer volume. “Elena, are you investigating me?! Is there absolutely no basic trust left between us?” He took a step closer, his breath hot against my face. “I bust my ass out there every single day! I drink with clients until my stomach bleeds! And for what? For this family! To give you and your dad a good life! And just because you caught wind of some baseless rumor, you call the cops to arrest a young girl without even talking to me first?” “Where does that leave me?! How are my colleagues and partners supposed to look at me? Do you know this could ruin the company’s reputation and tank our next round of funding?!” His accusations were so self-righteous, as if I were the unreasonable, hysterical sinner who was destroying everything. There was no point in arguing anymore. I let out a long, exhausted sigh. “You don’t need to gaslight me. I didn’t tell you about my dad being hospitalized because I thought you were actually busy with work, and I didn’t want to distract you. The reason I asked you to cash in the gold today was to pay for his medical bills.” “And because you told me all our liquid cash was tied up in your new project, I had no other choice but to—” To my surprise, Arthur let out a mocking scoff. “Do you really need to make up a lie like that? Your dad is healthier than I am! Hospitalized? Please. You’re only doing this because I told you Maya’s dad has cancer, and you’re trying to play the sympathy card.” My eyes widened in absolute shock. I stared at him, completely paralyzed. It was as if I didn’t recognize the man standing in front of me. His expression remained cold as he sneered. “I’m telling you right now: drop the charges immediately, or this isn’t over!” With that, he slammed the door and stormed out. I stood alone in the living room for a very long time. Then, I picked up my phone and dialed a friend’s number. “Can you do me a favor? I need a deep dive into all of Arthur’s personal bank statements and transaction histories for the past year. The more detailed, the better.” I paused, my gaze sweeping over my own pale, bloodless face in the hallway mirror. “Also, that apartment I bought before we got married—list it on the market ASAP. I don’t care if the price is a little low, but it has to be an all-cash offer. I need it sold as fast as possible.” 2 I opened my text messages. My chat with Arthur was still stuck on the day before yesterday. [Elena, I have to entertain some investors tonight. Don’t wait up for dinner.] That was the day my father was in the resuscitation room. I had called him seven times, and he didn’t answer a single one. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that he finally texted back. [Drank too much. Going to sleep.] I swiped across the screen and, as if possessed, clicked into Maya’s Instagram profile. Her latest post was from yesterday. “Who says sugar daddies are all greasy old men? Mine has impeccable taste, and that’s what I love most about him.” The video showed a high-end Omakase restaurant that cost at least a thousand dollars a head. The camera only panned to the hands of the man sitting across from her. He was wearing a luxury watch from last year’s latest collection. It was the birthday present I had given him. I kept scrolling down. Last year, on the night of our wedding anniversary, I waited at the restaurant until they closed. He called to say he had to fly out of the country for a last-minute business emergency and couldn’t be there. But on that exact same day on Maya’s account, she posted a picture of the night view from a revolving restaurant in another country. In the one second he briefly appeared in the frame, I recognized those custom cufflinks. I had driven across half the city to find them for him. The night my dad fainted and was rushed to the hospital for the first time, I was pacing the ER hallway, utterly helpless. He said he was in a critical meeting that would determine the company’s Q3 revenue. At almost that exact same time, Maya posted a photo dump. In the corner of one picture, I could see his thermos. The center photo was a looping video of a girl playfully wrapping a man’s silk tie around her finger. The caption read: [Bringing some warmth to someone who’s working so hard today, so I’m claiming this tie as my reward! 💕] Staring at the screen, I suddenly burst into laughter. The sound of my laughter was piercingly harsh in the empty living room. When Arthur and I first got together, he was a tech geek who didn’t even know how to match a dress shirt with a suit. His closet was full of ill-fitting, cheap blazers. I was the one who taught him, little by little, how to choose fabrics and recognize good tailoring. I took him to custom tailors and taught him what to wear for different occasions. His first decent suit was picked out by me. His first expensive watch was gifted by me. Even the cologne he wears now… I chose that woody scent specifically to match his cultivated aura. And now, all of it had become his capital to please another woman. Before I realized it, tears had completely covered my face. I didn’t snap out of it until my phone started vibrating endlessly. It was messages from my friend, along with a series of attached files. [Elena, I got the bank statements. There’s a major problem; you need to look at these files right away. Also… that apartment you asked me to list? I just talked to a broker. He said… your apartment was already mortgaged last year.] My fingers went stiff. [Mortgaged? I never authorized or signed any mortgage paperwork.] I hurriedly opened the files. Aside from the fraudulent loan documents, there were actually several credit cards from different banks opened in my name. I clicked open the billing statements one by one. The accounts started opening two years ago; the most recent one was activated just last week. The combined credit limit was over eighty thousand dollars. The billing address for every single card was Arthur’s company. And the transaction details were filled with luxury hotels, designer boutiques, high-end jewelry, and Michelin-starred restaurants. The charges spanned across the country, and there were even a few international transactions. As I flipped through them page by page, my blood ran cold. Last October, on my birthday, he said he had to work overtime at the office. But the credit card statement showed a charge of $1,200 at a high-end restaurant in Manhattan that very night. Last Christmas, he said he was taking clients out to play golf. Yet there were three consecutive days of charges at a top-tier luxury resort in Miami, totaling over $8,000. And today, Valentine’s Day— There was a charge of $13,140 at a luxury jewelry brand. Meanwhile, I hadn’t even received a simple ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ text from him, let alone a gift. I closed the digital folder and shut my eyes. So many memories flashed through my mind. Three years ago, when his first startup failed and left him with over a hundred thousand dollars in debt, I drained my savings and begged my parents for a loan just to bail him out. His eyes were bloodshot as he hugged me, his tears soaking through my shirt. He had said: “Elena, if I ever betray you in this life, may God strike me down with lightning.” Two years ago, when his company finally took off, he held my hand and said: “From now on, half of every penny I make belongs to you.” Every single vow had now become a vicious slap across my face. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached, trying to stop my body from trembling. [Keep digging. I want every single debt investigated thoroughly. Also, help me find a ruthless divorce attorney. Someone who specializes in marital debt fraud and hidden assets.] After sending the text, I put my phone down and walked to the window. The night outside was pitch black, a darkness that seemed to have no end. 3 Right after the Monday morning meeting wrapped up, a colleague stopped me, sounding a bit panicked. “Elena, there are two women downstairs asking for you. They said they’re Maya’s family. They’re extremely agitated… it looks like they’re here to cause a scene.” Before she even finished her sentence, the sound of crying and screaming reached us. “Where is Elena Harper?! Tell that black-hearted bitch to get out here!” A woman in her fifties charged to the front, her expression ferocious. The entire department’s attention instantly zeroed in on us. The woman pointed a finger right at my nose, screaming at the top of her lungs. “You’re Elena?! You vicious wretch! How dare you call the cops on my daughter! She’s an innocent, pure college girl, and you pushed her so hard she almost jumped off a building, do you know that?!” The aunt next to her immediately chimed in, her tone dripping with toxic sarcasm. “Let everyone here be the judge! She accused my niece of stealing her gold. But it was all fake! Cheap gold-plated garbage! Worth maybe a hundred bucks tops, and she insisted it was real just to ruin our Maya! This is attempted murder! Where is your boss? Tell him to come out and see what kind of trash he hires!” The gold was fake? Impossible. Then, another thought crossed my mind. This was probably just their tactic to get Maya out of trouble. I let out a cold laugh. “Ladies, this is a place of business. If you have an issue, we can discuss it in a conference room.” “Discuss my ass! You’re going to drop the charges right this second! Otherwise, I’ll come to your office and make a scene every single day! I’ll make sure you can’t show your face in public ever again!” Maya’s mother spat as she yelled. “Let me tell you, we had that garbage ‘gold’ appraised. It’s nothing but cheap gold-plated silver! Just you wait, we’re going to sue you!” I frowned slightly, my tone turning icy. “I called the police because there was clear video evidence showing my personal property in a place it shouldn’t be. As for whether it’s real or fake, the police will handle the appraisal.” Maya’s aunt jumped up. “Don’t try to bully us just because you think we’re stupid! We consulted a lawyer, and we have the lab reports. The evidence is rock solid! You framed her! We’re pressing charges! We’re suing you for malicious prosecution and defamation! If you don’t drop the case, your life is going to be a living hell!” When she slapped the appraisal report down in front of me, my heart plummeted. But I couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of them. I kept my voice steady. “I’ve already filed the police report. If you keep causing a disturbance here, you can go sit in a cell right next to Maya.” I ignored them after that, walking straight through the crowd of staring coworkers and toward the elevator. I could still hear the aunt’s hushed curses echoing behind me. “That gold was obviously fake… let’s see how much longer she can act so arrogant!” My heart was trembling. Right at that moment, I received a call from the police detective. “Ms. Harper, we sent that batch of gold jewelry and bullion in for testing. They are indeed gold-plated items. The outer layer contains less than 1% gold, and the base material is 925 sterling silver. The overall gold content is under 10%…” I couldn’t hear a single word the detective said after that. The entire world faded into an endless, deafening ringing in my ears. Which meant, Arthur had spent only a tenth of the cost to maintain his image as a “generous,” “family-oriented” husband. And I had been played for an absolute fool. I had even treated it as my only lifeline when my father was at death’s door. I took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that I didn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore. All that was left was a crystal-clear, icy reality. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Arthur. [Elena, I heard Maya’s family went to your office to make a scene? Please don’t stoop to their level. Let’s sit down and talk properly when we get home tonight. We can fix this.] [There’s a huge misunderstanding here, please don’t listen to them…] [Elena, are you busy? Why aren’t you replying?] A misunderstanding. I stared at his texts. I could feel his sheer panic radiating through the screen. I suddenly really wanted to laugh. Is he only feeling scared now? After deceiving me and betraying me time and time again, what did he take me for? I actually completely agreed with something Maya’s aunt had said. Arthur, your life is about to become a living hell.

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I had just submitted my wedding leave application when the new hire turned to me and said: “Chloe, Ruth just informed me that starting tomorrow, all your projects will be transferred to me.” “Your salary is being cut by eight thousand, and mine is going up to twenty thousand.” I fell silent. I’d been with the company for seven years and had been the top salesperson for six of them. The new hire had only been here three months, and I’d completed his first project for him. And they were demoting me and cutting my pay? I laughed bitterly, stood up from my desk, and walked straight to HR’s office to demand an explanation. HR manager John coughed twice and pulled out my wedding leave application. “According to company policy, wedding leave disrupts normal operations, so we must take disciplinary action. This is Paul’s decision.” I smiled coldly. Paul had no idea that my fiancé was none other than the company’s biggest partner. “Chloe, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. This is Paul’s decision.” In HR manager John’s office. When I explained why I’d come, John pointed to my recently approved wedding leave application on his desk, hinting. “You know how busy the company is at year-end. Requesting wedding leave at this time—aren’t you deliberately causing trouble?” I remained silent. From graduation until now, I’d been with the company for seven years, and I’d been the top salesperson for six of them. Even my lowest-level projects were worth at least a million dollars. A month ago, after I’d secured the partnership with SKY Group, boss Paul had specially thrown a celebration banquet to commend me: “Chloe, you’re amazing! I knew I was right about you. When the project officially launches, I’m definitely giving you a promotion and a raise!” “The Market Manager position is yours.” But now, just because I’d submitted a wedding leave application, I was being demoted and having my salary cut by eight thousand. Facing John’s accusatory gaze, I didn’t rush to argue back. Instead, I calmly pulled up my overtime records from the past three months. “I only requested seven days for wedding leave, and that includes three statutory holidays.” I pointed at my phone screen. “For these seven days, I worked three consecutive months without rest, arriving at eight a.m. and leaving at midnight every day.” “According to company policy, that totals eleven days of compensatory leave.” John’s smile stiffened. I continued scrolling through my phone, pulling up this month’s business list. “Of my projects, five are completed; three are in progress but already signed and finalized.” “There’s one waiting for a response from our partner, Pierce. I just spoke with him yesterday.” “Pierce is on vacation in Norway and won’t be available until after the New Year.” “I clearly communicated all of this when I submitted my wedding leave application.” I stated these facts calmly, staring at him without flinching. “So John, I’d like to ask—which part of the company’s operations did my wedding leave disrupt?” “And how did you and Paul determine that my requesting leave to get married was causing trouble?” Sweat began to bead on John’s forehead. “Chloe, that’s not exactly what I meant…” “I’m not finished.” I cut him off and pointed through the glass door toward a desk near the window—that was Paul’s assistant James’s workstation. He’d gotten married last month, and since his hometown was out of state, he’d taken half a month off. “James got married on the 8th of last month and took two weeks off. On his first day back, the company gave him a family establishment benefit and raised his salary by a thousand.” “John, if you say I’m incompetent and demote me with a pay cut, I’ll accept it.” “If you say I caused major losses to the company and demote me with a pay cut, I’ll accept that too.” “But demoting me and cutting my pay because I requested seven days of wedding leave, and letting a new hire who’s been here less than three months step on my head and completely replace me—” “I’m sorry, John, but that I cannot accept.” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word was clear. John’s face turned from dark to pale, and finally he just threw in the towel: “It’s no use telling me all this. Who told you to be a woman?” “What?” I froze, thinking I’d misheard. John rolled his eyes at me and said coldly: “You only requested seven days of wedding leave, but won’t you have to have kids after marriage? And won’t having kids mean maternity leave and parental leave? Add all that up—who knows how much the company will lose in the future? Can you take responsibility for those losses?” “I just can’t stand you young women, thinking you can play tricks just because you’re getting married, always requesting time off at the drop of a hat. If everyone did that, the company might as well close.” “Alright, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of this today. Get back to work.” “Really think you’re someone special.” John muttered, looking at me like I was a piece of replaceable trash. I looked at him, feeling chilled to the bone. I’d worked hard for the company for seven years, and just because I’d applied for wedding leave once, seven years of effort became “causing trouble.” I’d been the top salesperson for six years, generating tens of millions in revenue for the company, and just because I was getting married, my position and salary could be easily replaced by a new hire. This was the company I’d worked for seven years. Efficient, and brutally cold. I stood up, gave John one last look, and turned to leave. Since that’s how it was, I didn’t need to tell the company. My fiancé was actually Stuart, the CEO of SKY Group—the company’s biggest current partner.

After leaving HR’s office, I went to the restroom to wash my face. In the mirror, I wore perfectly applied makeup, my shirt buttoned all the way to the top, every strand of hair carefully styled. For seven years, I hadn’t dared to relax for a moment in order to meet my performance targets. When I had colds or fevers, I didn’t dare take time off. When I had family matters, I found others to help. On the company’s perfect attendance chart, I’d been in first place for seven consecutive years. Just because of one wedding leave request, the company had demoted me and cut my pay, and seven years of effort had gone down the drain. I pulled out my lipstick, habitually preparing to touch up my makeup. From inside a bathroom stall, I suddenly heard the new hire on the phone. “Mom, I got promoted.” “You won’t believe this—my supervisor’s been the top salesperson for six years, but just because she requested wedding leave, my boss specifically called me into his office. Said something about how requesting leave to get married shows irresponsibility to the company, that they can’t tolerate employees like that, so they’re promoting me to teach my supervisor a lesson. It’s hilarious.” “Can you believe she’s stayed at this company for seven years? If it were me, I’d have left long ago. There’s bullying, and then there’s this.” Yes, even a new hire who’d only been at the company three months knew this was wrong. But my boss had done it anyway. I snorted, didn’t disturb the person inside, and walked toward my desk. Passing by Paul’s office, I heard John reporting to the boss inside. “Paul, I’ve handled things with Chloe. She won’t cause any trouble.” “Your method was brilliant. Taking advantage of her wedding leave request to directly strip her of her position. After all, she’s just a woman. She should be grateful the company gave her a job opportunity. How dare she request wedding leave? Long hair, short brain.” “Exactly,” from behind his desk, Paul leisurely lit a cigarette. “John, you did well with this. Seven days of wedding leave? She dares to even think it? Really thinks she’s some big shot.” “We can’t set this precedent. If everyone starts using marriage as an excuse to ask me for leave, how can I run this company?” “But…” John suddenly lowered his voice. “What if Chloe quits?” “She wouldn’t dare!” Paul slammed his hand on the desk. “If I hadn’t recruited her into the company and given her such a great platform, how could a woman have climbed to her current position?” “Besides, if she hadn’t gotten married, I might worry. But once she’s married, with car loans, mortgages, baby formula costs… she’ll only become more dependent on the company. Quit? Impossible.” “When she comes back from wedding leave, find an excuse to cut her salary again.” “I can handle her.” Paul blew a smoke ring, and I could feel his smugness even through the door crack. John gave a thumbs up and readily agreed: “Alright, when she comes back, I’ll have her do grunt work for the new hire.” These words, along with the new hire’s words, pierced my heart like knives. Seven years. I’d been at this company for seven years. I’d developed the first state-level market. I’d established the first complete production chain. In terms of performance and ability, I was second to none. I’d thought at least the boss would respect me. But the result… I laughed self-mockingly and returned to my desk. I pulled out my phone and found my fiancé’s Twitter: “Change of plans. Don’t send a wedding invitation to my boss this weekend.” “Yeah, I’m planning to just quit.”

After sending the message, I began packing up my things. The company’s 200-person group chat suddenly updated with an announcement. Paul was calling me out by name. [Former Sales Manager Chloe, due to requesting seven days of wedding leave for personal marriage, has severely disrupted the company’s daily operations. We have decided to revoke her Sales Manager position and reduce her salary by eight thousand. Let this be a warning to everyone.] The group went quiet for a moment, then came a long string of “Acknowledged” messages. Immediately after, my Twitter exploded with dozens of messages. [Sorry Chloe, something came up last minute this weekend. I won’t be able to attend the wedding. Wish you happiness.] This was from my desk neighbor, a workplace partner I’d worked with for five years. [Chloe, um, my elderly relative is sick and I can’t get away. I’ll send you the gift money. Happy wedding.] This came from a colleague—I’d covered his shifts when he was sick and took leave last month. And then there was Lisa, the first intern I’d trained, who was also my bridesmaid. [Chloe, John hinted in the group chat that we shouldn’t attend your wedding. Find someone else to be your bridesmaid…] I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the keyboard, not replying. I knew this was part of Paul’s manipulation. Making sure no one came to my wedding, turning me into a joke on my wedding day. I closed my phone, forcing myself not to look anymore. Suddenly, a document was slammed down in front of me. “Chloe, SKY Group’s CEO is getting married this weekend. I’ll have to trouble you to come in on Saturday for some overtime.” John looked at me with a fake smile, deliberately emphasizing: “This is Paul’s decision.” I remained silent. On my wedding leave application form, I’d clearly written: Wedding date: January 31st, this Saturday. So demoting me, cutting my pay, and isolating me wasn’t enough for Paul. He actually wanted me to cancel my own wedding? “Are you and Paul sure about this?” I asked in a flat tone. “Of course. How could we joke about something like this?” John tilted his chin at me. “Chloe, don’t feel wronged. Marriage, well, good things come to those who wait. Changing the date is the same thing.” “Fine.” I stood up, picked up the box of items I’d just packed, and showed an unusually warm smile: “Then I’ll see you on Saturday.”

When I got home, my mood had been bad all day because of what happened at the company, and my expression showed it. Stuart was sitting on the couch looking at documents. He turned and saw my expression, frowned, and asked: “Chloe, what’s wrong? You look terrible.” I rarely complained to him about work issues. Whenever I encountered difficulties, I always solved them on my own. Today, I’d originally wanted to tell him it was nothing as usual, not to worry, But when I opened my mouth, I ultimately felt a bit powerless. So I told him exactly what had happened at the company today— How my boss deliberately made things difficult for me because of my wedding leave, trying to cut my pay, Letting a new hire step all over me and take my position, Having company colleagues isolate me so no one would come to my wedding, And making me postpone the wedding to come in for overtime on Saturday. I laid it all out, one thing after another. The more I spoke, the angrier I became. “He also said that weddings are just a formality anyway, and changing the date was no big deal—couldn’t interfere with company work.” My voice grew quieter: “He also said that when I come back from wedding leave, my salary will be cut again, and once I have a family and kids, I’ll be at his mercy and won’t dare to quit.” Stuart’s expression darkened with each word of my account. When I finished my last sentence, he stood up abruptly, his phone already out. “Paul, right?” His voice was cold as ice. “Your boss—I’ve had my eye on him for a while.” “Just wait. I’m calling him right now to tell him the partnership is cancelled.” “Wait!” I quickly grabbed his arm. But he’d already pulled up Paul’s number in his contacts. Over the years, most of the company’s business had been developed by me, But Paul didn’t know that the company’s most important partner, Stuart, CEO of SKY, was my fiancé. “Don’t call yet!” I grabbed his phone. Stuart looked at me, the fury still in his eyes, but he stopped what he was doing. He’d always been indulgent with me. We’d met three years ago at a project coordination meeting. At the time, I happened to be in charge of a collaboration between our company and SKY. Stuart, as SKY’s CEO, represented them at the meeting. The meeting ran from two in the afternoon until eight at night, with both sides deadlocked on several key terms. Everyone else was exhausted, but I was still going over data and revising proposals again and again. After the meeting, Stuart walked over and said to me: “Miss Chloe, you’re the most meticulous person I’ve ever met.” I didn’t know who he was then, assuming he was some SKY executive, So I replied politely: “It’s my job. This project is very important to our company.” Later he told me that it was that evening, Watching me repeatedly verify details and data with my team, my eyes shining, that he’d suddenly felt his heart move. He’d proactively asked for my contact information and started asking me to dinner. At first I thought it was work-related, but later I realized he was pursuing me. I asked him why he liked me, and he said: “I like the way you look when you’re working seriously.” So we secretly started dating, and now, it’s been almost three years. This renewal of the contract between SKY and my company had originally been shelved for two months due to terms issues. It was Stuart who, after learning that I was mainly responsible for this project, actively pushed the renewal process forward. Paul had even specially praised me for it, saying I “had connections.” But he didn’t know that these “connections” were my fiancé giving face on my behalf. All these years, I’d worked diligently and conscientiously for the company, But they treated me this way. It was time I got my revenge. I gripped his hand tightly: “Listen to me. Paul and the others sent out invitations they haven’t responded to, right? Call them now as my fiancé and personally invite them to our wedding.” Stuart paused for a moment, then understood what I meant. The fury in his eyes gradually transformed into a playful smile: “You want them to see you at the wedding?” I nodded, feeling the suffocating anger in my chest finally find an outlet: “I want to see what expression Paul and John have when they discover that the bride of their biggest business partner is the subordinate they docked bonuses from and workplace bullied.” Stuart laughed. He picked up his phone again, called Paul, and personally invited them to our wedding. He put it on speakerphone. I heard Paul on the other end, Nodding and bowing, saying he’d definitely be there on Saturday. A cold smile curved my lips. After hanging up, Stuart raised an eyebrow at me: “Alright, now we just wait for Saturday’s show.” I looked up at him: “Aren’t you afraid they’ll hold a grudge and it’ll affect future cooperation?” “Cooperation is important, but more important is the character of the partner,” Stuart said lightly. “If they can’t even respect their company’s veteran employees, how can I trust them to be responsible for our cooperation?” I smiled and said nothing more. Night deepened outside the window, but my heart felt bright. I suddenly felt even more anticipation for Saturday’s wedding.

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After washing dishes overseas for five years, I finally paid off all the debts my husband had left behind. I was ready to return home and give him the surprise of a lifetime. But when I arrived at our old apartment with our child, I found the door padlocked and a thick layer of dust on the windows. A neighbor passing by looked at me in astonishment. “Didn’t you and Ethan break up? What are you doing back here?” I rushed straight to my husband’s workplace, only to be stopped by the receptionist. “Looking for Mr. Sterling? The CEO isn’t in today. He’s hosting his baby’s one-month celebration.” My phone buzzed. A news notification popped up on my screen: “Sterling Group CEO Ethan Sterling Spends Millions on Extravagant One-Month Celebration for Heir! The Happy Couple is the Picture of Devotion!” At the exact same moment, a voice message from Ethan came through: “Hey honey, I managed to snag a few baby clothes online for cheap. Just a couple of bucks. Don’t forget to pick up the package.” In the background of his message, a woman’s voice could be heard, teasing with a light laugh: “The bet is already over. How much longer are you going to keep using that fake marriage certificate to trick Stella? Playing poor all these years… aren’t you tired?” It turned out I was the only one who was actually poor. It turned out that after all this time, I was the real mistress. … Ethan’s best friend rushed over, pulling me aside with a panicked look on his face. “How dare a mistress who can’t even see the light of day show her face here? Aren’t you afraid Ethan will find out and cut off your child support?” Seeing me stare silently at my phone, he seemed to realize something. He suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth, his tone laced with shock when he finally spoke again: “You don’t… you really don’t know anything, do you?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. His panic intensified as he stammered, “Uh, look, I was just talking nonsense just now. I have things to do, I gotta go.” Watching the man practically run away, my daughter tugged at my hand. She looked up at me, her little face full of confusion. “Mommy, what’s a mistress who can’t see the light of day?” I forced the corners of my mouth up into a bitter smile and said softly, “I suppose… that would be me.” Perhaps because it was the first time I hadn’t replied to Ethan’s message immediately, my phone suddenly rang. It was him calling. The background noise on the line was deafening—the clinking of glasses and overlapping voices offering congratulations. “What’s going on? Didn’t you see my message?” I ignored his interrogation, instead asking softly: “Ethan, where are you right now?” “Where else would I be? I’m at work, obviously. Look, I can’t talk right now. Remember to get the package.” Click. He didn’t even wait for me to say another word before hanging up. Looking at the disconnected call, I curled my lips, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. I never knew. I never knew Ethan could lie with such effortless calm. As if remembering something, I unlocked my phone and tapped an app hidden in a folder on the last page of my home screen. It was a location-sharing app. Seven years ago, before I left for the States, Ethan had handed me his phone, his eyes red. “I installed a tracking app on both our phones. This way, we’ll always know where the other person is.” “Take good care of yourself over there. Once you pay off the debt, we can finally live a good life together.” But I had been working so hard to pay off his debts that I never once had the time to check the app. I opened it and located Ethan’s current position. He was at the most luxurious country club in the city. When I arrived at the entrance with my daughter, Ethan was standing a short distance away. He was holding a baby in his arms, gently rocking and cooing at it, trying to make it laugh. Seeing this scene, I froze in place. Mia is five years old now. In my memory, Ethan has never held her. When Mia was just born, she ran a high fever and cried inconsolably. The doctor said a father’s embrace could help soothe the baby. At the time, Mia had been crying for three days straight, refusing to sleep. Yet even then, Ethan just rolled over in bed, showing no reaction other than muttering, “I don’t like kids.” Looking at the man whose face was now overflowing with love, I finally understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids. He just didn’t like my kid. A harsh scolding nearby snapped me back to reality. I looked beside me—my daughter was gone. I instinctively looked up. At this very moment, my daughter was standing right in front of Ethan. She tilted her head up, calling him “Daddy” over and over, her small face filled with eager anticipation. “Daddy, look! I made this for you myself!” But the next second. Ethan looked down at the little girl with utter bewilderment. He raised his hand and swatted away the red braided bracelet Mia was holding out to him. “Is this some kind of new scam?” “I only have one child. I don’t know you.” Chapter 2 After saying that, Ethan impatiently swatted away Mia’s hand as she tried to reach out again. He tightened his grip on the baby he was holding and turned to leave. I stepped forward quickly. I grabbed Mia and pulled her into a tight hug, then took another step to block Ethan’s path. “Ethan, what is the meaning of this?” Perhaps he didn’t expect to see me here today, or maybe he didn’t expect that I had returned to the country without telling him. For a moment, he froze, staring at me with eyes full of utter disbelief. After a long pause, he hugged the baby in his arms tighter and spoke softly, though his tone betrayed a rare hint of guilt: “Why… why are you back?” As he spoke, he seemed to realize something. He suddenly looked down at Mia, who was wiping away tears next to me. “Is she… Mia?” Hearing this, I twitched the corners of my mouth. The light in my eyes dimmed, and a bitter smile failed to reach my eyes. Mia is already five years old. Yet to this day, he couldn’t even recognize his own biological daughter. “Ethan, aren’t you going to explain?” “You…” But before I could even finish my sentence, a fleet of luxury cars pulled up to the entrance of the country club, and a group of people stepped out. When I saw the woman leading the group, I froze, my eyes filling with pain. “Sister, long time no see.” It was Chloe Hayes. My half-sister. Back then, it was her and her mother who destroyed my once-happy family, drove my mother to her death, and had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Meeting Chloe’s provocative gaze, scenes from the past flashed before my eyes, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably. “Why are you standing out here? It’s freezing.” Chloe smoothly looped her arm through Ethan’s, her tone intimate. Without even giving me a chance to speak, Chloe took the lead, speaking loudly enough for everyone present to hear: “Sister, Ethan told me everything.” “You insisted on being with him, even willingly accepting the role of the other woman. But Ethan and I have a baby now. Please stop harassing him.” “Ethan and I are married. Are you really going to be like your mother and become a stumbling block in someone else’s path to happiness?” Instantly, the surrounding crowd turned their eyes on me, whispering amongst themselves, their words filled with insults and slurs directed at me. I clenched my fists tightly, turned my head to look at the man standing beside Chloe, and asked softly: “Ethan, is this true?” But before Ethan could even open his mouth, my daughter suddenly broke free from my grasp. She snatched the marriage certificate from my pocket. Mia ran up, grabbed Ethan’s hand, and choked out: “Daddy, didn’t you and Mommy already get married? Why do you have a baby with someone else? Is Mia making you angry?” “Daddy, look, this is your and Mommy’s marriage certificate. Mommy keeps it in her pocket every single day.” Chloe stepped forward, ignoring my daughter’s struggles, and snatched the marriage certificate away to examine it. The next second, she held it up, waving it at me, her tone dripping with mockery: “Sister, you really have no shame, do you?” “This marriage certificate is obviously a fake. How much longer are you going to lie to yourself? Look, it doesn’t even have an official seal.” With that, Chloe pulled a marriage certificate from her own designer bag and handed it to me with a smile: “Here, let me show you what a real marriage certificate looks like.” “Oh, by the way, when Ethan and I went to City Hall to get our license, I even recorded a video to document it. Please, enjoy.” She handed her phone to me. It was playing a video of the two of them getting their license. In the video, Ethan was smiling, looking blissfully happy. The sight stung my eyes so badly I almost cried. Chapter 3 “Don’t pay any attention to her. Let’s go inside.” Ethan finally spoke. But when he said it, he didn’t even spare me a single glance. Seeing Ethan turning to leave, Mia rushed forward and threw her arms around him: “Daddy, please don’t ignore Mia…” The next second, the man frowned impatiently, forcefully shoving Mia away. His tone was ice-cold: “I am not your father.” With that, Ethan stepped toward the entrance of the country club, never looking back. I don’t remember how I left the club. All I remember is rushing forward to hug my daughter tightly, while Chloe stood before me, looking down at me and saying: “You will be beneath my heel for the rest of your life.” I had just managed to coax Mia to sleep when I received a text from Ethan. “Things were chaotic today. Don’t overthink it.” Looking at the message, an indescribable bitterness surged from the depths of my heart, rising all the way up to my throat. Ethan always seemed to operate like this. A harsh slap to the face, followed by a half-hearted pat on the back. My phone chimed again. It was a message from Chloe: “Since you’re back in the country, come to the office tomorrow. It’s time to finally settle who inherits the company.” Looking at my sleeping daughter, I dialed my best friend’s number. “Well, look who finally remembered I exist!” “Are you free tomorrow? Can you watch my daughter for the day?” “Daughter? Since when do you have a daughter? Whose is it?” I froze for a moment. “Ethan’s.” The sound of my friend’s utter shock erupted from the phone: “Ethan Sterling? Didn’t you guys break up seven years ago? How do you have a kid?” “And if I remember correctly, Ethan has been married for a while now.” She paused, as if suddenly realizing something: “Girl… don’t tell me you loved Ethan so much you willingly became his mistress…” Hearing this, I forced a smile, but my eyes were filled with nothing but desolation. “It turns out I was the only one kept in the dark.” After hanging up, I stared at the endless stream of notifications popping up on my phone, lost in thought. They were all from Ethan. He sent an address. “I’m busy lately. You and Mia can stay at this apartment for now.” “Starting tomorrow, bring me three meals a day at the office. I’m still used to your cooking.” “Oh, and the day after tomorrow is Chloe’s birthday. As her older sister, make sure you get her a gift.” The moment I saw those messages. I felt a surge of inexplicable rage rise within me, rushing straight to my head. Even now. Ethan offered no explanation whatsoever. Instead, he just continued to issue orders and commands like always. He even forgot that today was Mia’s birthday. With trembling fingers, I slowly typed on the screen: “Ethan, do you even remember what day today is?” The other side went dead quiet. I was probably just too exhausted; in my daze, I actually fell asleep. When I groggily woke up early the next morning, my daughter Mia was sitting on the bed, holding my phone, grinning at me excitedly: “Mommy, Daddy sent you money!” I instinctively grabbed the phone to look. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Ethan had replied to my message: “What day is it?” “Are you out of money again? If you need cash, there’s no need to make up excuses. Just accept the transfer.” Right now, the transfer had already been accepted by my daughter. It was two dollars and fifty cents. Not even enough to buy a cup of coffee. Chapter 4 When I pushed open the conference room doors with my documents in hand, everyone had already arrived. At this moment, Chloe was sitting in the CEO’s chair. Seeing me, Chloe smiled: “Since everyone is here, let’s begin.” “Does everyone remember? Ten years ago, when my father passed away, his will explicitly stated that only the person who successfully develops the High-Sensitivity AI Robot would inherit the company.” “Today, I have successfully developed that robot.” “I couldn’t have done it without the help of my husband. I’d like to invite my husband, Ethan Sterling, to present the details of this robot to you all.” With that, Ethan walked in, wearing a sharp white suit. He opened the PowerPoint presentation and flawlessly explained the robot to the board. But the densely packed slides were entirely my hard work, accumulated drop by drop over the years. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I stepped forward, grabbed his arm, and with bloodshot eyes, roared at him: “Ethan, what the hell are you doing?!” But the next second, he forcefully shook off my hand. He turned, faced the room, and spoke in a cool, measured tone: “Everyone, I need to confess something to you all today.” “A year ago, Chloe and I successfully developed the High-Sensitivity Robot. Stella somehow found out about it and wanted me to steal the core technology and give it to her.” “But I know this is Chloe’s life’s work. I also know that only her dedication and capability make her worthy of the CEO position at Hayes Corporation.” Instantly, my ears were filled with insults and accusations directed at me. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, there was nothing but validation and praise for Chloe. From amidst the crowd, I looked up at Ethan. Our eyes met for just a second before he hurriedly looked down and averted his gaze. For years, I had immersed myself in researching the High-Sensitivity Robot. I never hid anything about it from Ethan. He knew better than anyone what successfully developing it meant to me, and he knew exactly how much I had suffered and sacrificed for it over the years. I never expected that my trust would ultimately be so casually trampled by him, and even used as a weapon by him and another woman to smear my name. I opened my mouth, about to speak, but the next second, my phone in my pocket suddenly rang. It was my best friend. She said Mia was missing. I couldn’t care less about the meeting. I jumped up and sprinted toward the door. Ethan stepped forward and grabbed me from behind: “Stella, you owe Chloe an apology.” “Ethan, your child is missing!” I roared at the man in front of me, my eyes red. The next second, panic flashed across his face: “Lily? What happened to Lily?” Chloe stood up, took his hand, and gently reassured him: “Lily is fine. The nanny just told me she’s sleeping at home.” Instantly, Ethan let out a sigh of relief, his entire demeanor relaxing. Looking at the drastic change in the man before me, I clenched my fists, turned, and ran outside, leaving only one sentence behind: “Ethan, you don’t deserve to be a father!” As soon as I exited the building, I spotted Mia across the street. She was a complete mess, covered in dark bruises. I ran over and pulled her into a tight embrace. Through her sobs, she told me what had happened: “Mommy, Auntie took me to the amusement park. I saw the baby Daddy was holding yesterday, and I just wanted to go over and look. But while Auntie was buying me ice cream, they took me away and beat me up…” “They said I shouldn’t have been born. They said… I deserve to die.” I was just about to comfort her when a massive force yanked me up and violently pulled Mia and me apart. When I regained my senses, Mia and I were being held back by bodyguards. Ethan stood in front of me, raised his hand, and delivered a heavy slap to my daughter’s face. “Why did I ever let a disaster like you live? And now you’re trying to hurt my son? If I had known, I should have strangled you the moment you were born!” I struggled violently, desperately trying to break free from the bodyguards’ grip. When I finally broke free, a large delivery truck came speeding out of nowhere, heading straight for Ethan. And my daughter ran directly toward him. I don’t know how a five-year-old child had that much strength, but she shoved Ethan completely out of the way. “Mia!” In an instant, Mia was lying in a pool of blood. I sprinted toward her and scooped her into my arms, tears streaming down my face. Mia smiled at Ethan, who was standing frozen nearby, and whispered softly: “Daddy, if you didn’t love me, why did you have me?” Ethan stumbled forward. With red eyes, he reached out, wanting to touch Mia’s face, but I viciously slapped his hand away. Holding my daughter tightly, tears pouring down my face, I screamed at him: “Don’t touch her!” “Ethan, it’s been five years! Mia hasn’t seen you once since the day she was born!” “Yesterday was her fifth birthday. Even though it was her birthday, she prepared a gift just to meet you!” Under his stunned gaze, I took a deep breath, tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and said softly: “Ethan, from this moment on, you are dead to us. I hope we never see you again in this life.” Chapter 5 As soon as the words left my mouth, a torrential downpour began. Standing in the pouring rain, Ethan suddenly felt a profound sense of panic. The day he found out he and Stella were having a baby, it had been a stormy night exactly like this one. But back then, Stella was far away in the States, and his company was going through a massive upheaval. He just felt like everything was falling apart. He started finding fault with everything, getting sick constantly. He even entertained the thought of breaking up with Stella. And that was when Chloe Hayes appeared before him. That day, he had just gotten into a huge fight with Stella because she hadn’t replied to his message immediately. Right after he hung up the phone, Chloe showed up. After that night with Chloe, he began to despise his previously dull and flavorless life, even wishing that Stella’s child would simply never be born. But the child was innocent. What had she done wrong? These thoughts suddenly began flashing repeatedly in Ethan’s mind, and a flood of memories rushed back. Mia crying incessantly, reaching her little arms out, wanting him to hold her. And what did he do? He just turned his back, annoyed. When he video-called Stella, Mia would always lean in, calling him “Daddy” over and over. And what did he do? He didn’t even acknowledge her. Mia stumbling toward him, offering the red braided bracelet she had made herself. And what did he do? He casually swatted it away without a second thought. Thinking of this, Ethan stepped forward. Looking at me holding our daughter tightly, he spoke, his voice choking with tears: “Let me… let me hold Mia. I… I am her father.” I ignored him. I just stumbled to my feet, holding my daughter, turned around, and walked away, murmuring softly: “Mia, Mommy is taking you home.” Chloe, standing nearby, stepped forward, gently took Ethan’s hand, and said softly: “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” For the first time, Ethan shook off Chloe’s hand and followed silently behind me.

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After five years of long-distance dating, my boyfriend and I called each other every day to satisfy our physical needs. When reaching the climax, Liam would always say to me, still wanting more, “Chloe, I miss you so much I’m going crazy…” So, I booked a red-eye flight back home, secretly hiding in his closet to give him a surprise. But when the bedroom door opened, Liam carried my best friend onto our marital bed. Mia rolled over and straddled him, unbuttoning his shirt one by one while saying coquettishly, “Liam, that idiot Chloe hasn’t figured out we’re together for five years. It’s so boring.” “She’s proposed to you ninety-nine times. How about we give her a surprise at our wedding next week?” I gripped the engagement ring in my palm tightly. My mind went completely blank. I saw Liam’s hand slip under her skirt, his voice lazy. “What’s the rush? I’ve already exiled her to Northern Europe, are you still worried?” Through the wood, the obscene sounds were magnified infinitely in my ears. And I, huddled in the closet covering my mouth, felt my heart completely die. … The two on the bed were stark naked, kissing passionately. Tears smashed hard onto my phone, the screen suddenly lighting up with a text from Liam. [Chloe, let’s not just do a voice call today, how about a video call?] Mia looked at the chat box and scoffed disdainfully. “Liam, it’s one thing to let her listen when we’re doing it, but today you actually dare to do a live broadcast?” Liam, biting her bra, smiled roguishly. “Guess if she dares to answer?” Before I could react, Liam’s video call was already ringing. With trembling hands, I tapped the screen several times before finally hitting decline. One was the man who had formed a human bridge in the rubble of an earthquake, protecting me underneath him, risking his life to save me. The other was the woman who single-handedly rescued me when the school bullies wanted to slash my face. And now, they were rolling in the sheets on the bed I bought for my wedding. The visual impact was too much for me. So much so that even after they used an entire box of condoms, I still couldn’t snap out of it. Liam lit a post-coital cigarette and slowly looked towards the closet. Our eyes met. My heart felt like it was viciously squeezed by someone. The next second. Liam blew a smoke ring, raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “Chloe, do you have some kind of voyeuristic fetish? How long are you going to hide in the closet?” Mia, on the bed, turned pale and scared, diving straight under the covers. Three seconds later. I stumbled out of the closet, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “I, I originally wanted to give you a surprise…” Liam slowly sat up and deliberately blew smoke in my face. “A surprise? The text confirmation for your flight was forwarded to my phone ages ago. What surprise could there be?” He reached under Mia’s skirt and threw a wet bunny tail plug at me. “Learn a thing or two. This is what you call a surprise.” I had proposed to him ninety-nine times, trying different methods every time. Just to repay him for saving my life. But now, all my efforts had become a joke. “Why? Why are you guys doing this to me…” Seeing my confused look, Liam said indifferently, “Why? Chloe, you didn’t think you could monopolize me, did you? Don’t be so selfish.” “Besides, every time I called you, Mia would moan. Could you really not hear it?” It turned out that every moment he said he missed me, his body was in negative-distance contact with Mia. I was trembling all over, my stomach churning. Mia pulled my nightgown over herself and put it on slowly, saying with a half-smile, “Chloe, didn’t you used to say you were willing to share everything with me?” “You’re so busy with work, I kindly helped Liam solve his physical problems. Shouldn’t you thank me?” I pushed her away hard, grabbed a picture frame, and smashed it at her. “Get out! Get the hell out!” Ironically. The photo of me and Liam in the frame had actually been replaced with one of Mia in a bikini. And Liam told me every day, that when he missed me, he could only look at my photo. Turns out it was this photo he was looking at. After a gasp. Liam blocked Mia without hesitation. The picture frame hit his forehead, and blood immediately flowed down. “Chloe, stop acting crazy, okay? It’s not like I don’t want you anymore.” “It’s not my fault I’m not marrying you. Don’t you ever look in the mirror to see where you stand?” “Mia and I are just having a wedding. As long as you don’t make a fuss, our relationship will never change.” I crazily grabbed everything I could reach and threw it at them. “Relationship? What relationship? The relationship where I’m the other woman?” “Get out! You pair of cheating scumbags, get the hell out of here!” The door slammed with a deafening noise. Looking at the messy bedroom, I violently threw the engagement ring clutched in my hand out the window. Then, as if possessed, I picked up a small piece of broken glass. Just like when I was a kid, I numbly pressed it against my wrist and slashed down. Chapter 2 All the love and hate spilled out along with the blood. In my haze, I thought of that earth-shattering afternoon seven years ago. The school building collapsed, and I was trapped under concrete slabs, waiting to die in despair. But Liam frantically dug through the rubble, using his bleeding hands to pull me out bit by bit. But the aftershocks continued. When a huge boulder came crashing toward us, he threw himself on top of me without hesitation, using his back to form a human bridge for me. Debris smashed onto his head, back, and face, yet he gritted his teeth and smiled at me. “Chloe, don’t be afraid. With me here, you won’t die.” After that, he was left with a hideous scar on his back. I touched that scar with trembling fingertips, weeping uncontrollably. But he smiled like a fool. “Why are you crying? This scar is the proof of my love for you.” And in high school, when I was cornered in an alley by a few bullies. They called me a fatherless bastard and threatened to slash my foxy face with a box cutter. It was Mia who charged in single-handedly, shielded me behind her, and pointed at them fiercely. “Just try and touch her!” From that day on, Mia accompanied me to and from school. She told me with absolute seriousness, “Chloe, we’re going to be best friends for life.” Waking up in the hospital. Liam’s gaze fell on the crisscrossing scars on my wrist, and he sighed softly. “Chloe, I always thought you were a smart person.” His voice was very low, like stating a long-understood fact. “What’s wrong with staying by my side?” “You know your background; I could never accept your proposal.” “All that talk about marrying you on the ninety-ninth time… was just to humor you.” Ever since my father eloped with his mistress, my mother’s mental state has been unstable. But Liam and Mia are both from wealthy New York families. Whenever someone pointed fingers behind my back, Liam and Mia would viciously slap their faces for me. I often asked myself, what did I do to deserve such a prince and princess taking such good care of me. Liam paused for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “Chloe, what do you really want? Money? Love? Or medical resources for your mother? Or…” He leaned in close, his words as light as a blade. “Do you want me to give you a child?” Motherhood as a ticket to status is a proven method. Using all my remaining strength, I slapped him hard across the face. “I want you to get lost! Don’t ever let me see you again in this lifetime!” Liam froze for a second. He slowly touched his cheek with his long fingers, then smiled, grinding his back teeth. The hospital room door was pushed open again. Mia walked in carrying a basket of mangoes, her laughter light and deliberate. “Oh my, my good best friend, playing hard to get again?” She walked over to Liam, her eyes sliding sideways over me. “Liam got tired of that seven years ago. It’s really inappropriate to play it now.” Saying that, she started peeling a mango for me. But I’m allergic to mangoes. Mia knew this from the very first day we met. She deliberately showed off the dazzling diamond ring on her ring finger. Liam once said, he would buy his future wife the biggest, brightest diamond ring. Thinking of when I accidentally gouged a piece of flesh from my palm while personally crafting a wedding ring for Liam, a dense, fine pain flared up in my heart again. Mia handed the peeled mango to me, and I just swatted it onto the floor. The juice stained her dress. Liam’s eyes darkened instantly. “Chloe, if you have any grievances, take them out on me!” “Mia has been good enough to you! She doesn’t even mind me keeping you after we’re married! What more do you want?!” Mia looked at me aggrievedly. “Chloe, do you really need to target me like this?” I was just about to kick them out, when two trending topics popped up on my phone. The first was the joyous news of the marriage alliance between the two powerful families of Liam and Mia. But the second was the record of my relationship with Liam over the past seven years. The comment section was full of people scolding Mia for throwing her weight around and knowingly being the other woman. Liam’s usually unruly face suddenly turned dark. He squeezed a few words out through gritted teeth. “Chloe, you’re such a bitch…” Chapter 3 But I haven’t logged into any social media accounts since I woke up. Mia grabbed my wrist and roared. “Chloe! People need dignity to live, are you trying to force me to death?!” “Your life was saved by Liam, and your face was saved by me! Even your job in Northern Europe was introduced by us! Liam and I don’t ask you for anything in return, but how can you bite the hand that feeds you?!” During the struggle, the wound on my wrist split open. Drops of blood smashed onto the bedsheets. But Liam just looked at me with a disappointed gaze. I took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “It wasn’t me.” But Liam directly grabbed my phone, skillfully entering his birthday to unlock it. Then he pointed to a transfer record of ten thousand dollars and questioned me coldly. “If it’s not you, then what is this?” He didn’t know this was the medical fee I advanced for my mother’s surgery. He threw the phone at me, shielded Mia, turned around, and left. Half an hour later. Liam used his family company’s official Twitter to post his and Mia’s marriage certificate. The date was seven years ago. Which was the very day Liam and I made our relationship official. They had gone and gotten their marriage certificate. My heart ached to the point of numbness, yet I couldn’t shed a single tear. Public opinion reversed. Countless netizens cursed me for knowingly being the other woman, and even trying to sow discord between a married couple. My personal information was quickly doxxed. My work email was stuffed with abusive letters, and my social media DMs turned into a swamp of filthy insults. Even more fatally, my boss all the way in Northern Europe called to fire me directly. Liam easily crushed everything I had spent years struggling to build. And my father abandoning his wife and child back then was magnified infinitely. “Chloe’s dad didn’t want her mom, and Liam doesn’t want her either. This mother and daughter are destined to be mistresses for life!” “And she’s so smug posting chat logs, thinking that will hurt the great Miss Mia? What a clown!” “So disgusting, how do people like this still have the face to live in this world? Chloe and her mother should just go die!” My college group chat also exploded. “Wasn’t Liam’s girlfriend always Chloe? Why is the person on the marriage certificate Mia?” “You guys don’t know this, right? Actually, the person Liam has always liked is Mia. During the earthquake back then, Liam thought the person buried was Mia, that’s why he went to save her!” “So Chloe, that simp, harassed Liam for all those years? Wow, she’s been a mistress since her student days?” Seeing this message, I almost couldn’t stand up. Just as I was about to fall, Mia suddenly caught me. She looked at my deathly pale face and said with a giggling smile. “Chloe, do you know why Liam pursued you?” She lowered her voice and enunciated every word. “Because, I have a certain kink.” “Liam loves me too much, so he lowered himself to seduce you. And now, I’m bored with playing, so it’s time for you to get lost!” “Oh right, the day after tomorrow is my wedding with Liam. As my best friend, you absolutely must come.” As Mia turned to leave, she deliberately shoved a prenatal checkup report into my hand. “The crystallization of Liam and my love, four months along now.” The world crashed down around me. Liam’s past devotion, those vows that sounded better than sweet nothings. It turned out to be just a game. Liam’s call suddenly rang. But I didn’t answer. Soon he sent a text message. [Chloe, don’t believe the nonsense people in the group chat are saying. After Mia and I are married, I will give you an explanation.] I pinched my palm tightly and typed. [Every time you called me Chloe, you were actually calling out to Mia, weren’t you?] The person on the other end of the phone fell silent. The tears I had held back for so long finally fell. I don’t know how long I stood in the cold wind. I wiped my tears and dialed a long-forgotten number. “Mr. Quinn, I agree to join your Arctic project. For the three years I’m gone, please make sure to take good care of my mother.” The other party nodded crisply and responded. “No problem, I’ll send a private jet to pick up your mother right now.” As soon as the call disconnected, my mother’s caregiver called immediately. “Ms. Davis, it’s terrible, something happened to your mother!” Chapter 4 When I found my mother, she was pinned to the ground by several maids, barely clinging to life. Her back was already lacerated and bloody, yet she continued to glare fiercely at Mia. “I’m going to kill you! Kill you!” Mia had three bloody scratches on her face, clearly from my mother. She gripped the whip in her hand and said through gritted teeth, “Tomorrow is the wedding! How am I supposed to see anyone with this face?” “You old hag! There are still 99 lashes left! I’m going to beat you to death today!” Realizing what was happening, I immediately rushed forward to protect my mother. But the doctors clearly said my mother’s condition had been improving over the years. Why did she suddenly go crazy? Crack! The whip lashed fiercely across my body. I cried out in pain. Mia, however, looked down at me from above with a triumphant sneer. “Hahaha, Chloe, your mother couldn’t compete with my mother, and look now, you can’t compete with me either.” My body stiffened. “What did you say?” My gaze followed to the family portrait in her hand. My father, who had abandoned his wife and child, was lovingly holding another woman’s waist. It turned out Mia’s mother was the mistress from back then! Mia’s laughter echoed in my ears. “Serves you right. Who told your mother to call my mother a mistress back then! Now that you’ve become a real mistress, I’ve finally vented my mother’s anger!” “Let me tell you the truth, I approved the day you and Liam made your relationship official. You were willing to be a simp just because Liam treated you slightly well. Have you never been loved by anyone? Pathetic worm.” “Now, either you take these 99 lashes for this old hag, or I start a livestream right now and tell the whole world that both you and your mother are mistresses hahaha…” Every word was like a poisoned needle, piercing into my deepest wounds. Anger rushed to my head, and I charged at Mia like a madwoman. But just as my fingertips touched her sleeve, Liam’s furious voice suddenly erupted from behind. “Chloe! Don’t you dare!” He kicked me viciously aside, his eyes fixed on the sharp scissors on the ground. “Crazy! If you want to die, go die yourself! Don’t touch Mia!” Holding my bloodied mother, I wept silently. Liam paused slightly. Instinctively, he moved to help me. But Mia stumbled and threw herself into his arms, crying a river of tears. “Liam, Chloe said her mother is crazy and won’t have to pay with her life for murder!” “It doesn’t matter if something happens to me, but the baby in my belly…” The sliver of pity on Liam’s face towards me abruptly vanished. The bodyguards immediately understood, grabbed the whip from the floor, and lashed me fiercely. Agonizing pain instantly swept over my entire body. I screamed in agony. But Liam refused to spare me another glance. At that moment, my mother, who had been on her last breath, suddenly shielded me tightly in her arms. Her cloudy eyes were full of tears as she whispered in my ear, “My sweet girl, it’s Mom’s fault for being useless and letting you suffer so much. This time, let Mom protect you…” Listening to her increasingly faint breathing, I cried and begged Liam for help. “I admit my mistake, I apologize, please, I beg you, save my mom!” But no matter how much I pleaded, there was no response.

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I’m a cake decorator. One day, I received an online order from a girl who wanted me to make an “apology cake.” “Could you hide a pair of handcuffs inside the cake?” she asked. “I went to a bar last night without telling my boyfriend first. He’s upset with me. I want to make it up to him tonight.” I thought of my own fiancé, Adrian—cold and emotionally distant. We only had sex once a month and never played games like this. I couldn’t help but envy this girl a little. That evening, I delivered the cake to the address she’d given me. The moment the door opened, I froze. Standing there was my fiancé—the one who’d told me he was going back to his hometown for a relative’s funeral. Adrian. The air felt like it had been sucked out of my lungs. The cake box in my hand nearly slipped from my grasp. The shock in Adrian’s eyes lasted only half a second. The next moment, his face returned to its usual cold detachment. Ruby poked her head out from behind him, her eyes darting curiously between Adrian and me. “Babe, do you know this delivery girl? Why is she staring at you like that?” Adrian wrapped his arm around Ruby’s waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles at the small of her back. He took the cake from me, frowning slightly. “No. Never seen her before.” Ruby said “Oh” and eagerly tore open the cake box. The handcuffs I’d carefully selected tumbled out. The silver metal gleamed harshly under the entryway lights. “Wow, these look high quality!” Ruby exclaimed. She held up the handcuffs, playfully waving them near Adrian’s wrist. “Mr. Hotshot Lawyer, are you my prisoner tonight?” Adrian’s eyes held an indulgent affection I’d never seen before. I opened my mouth, my throat dry and aching. “Adrian, you—” Before I could finish, Adrian grabbed a few bills from the entryway table and tossed them at me. The money hit my face lightly before scattering at my feet. “Thanks for the delivery. That’s your tip.” His voice was cold as ice, his eyes carrying a warning. Ruby was still laughing. “Babe, you’re so generous! Come on, pick it up! That’s a few hundred dollars right there.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. I wanted to smash that cake in his face. But I couldn’t. I thought of my brother, Cameron, still in prison, waiting for Adrian to help overturn his case. He’d been caught up in an art forgery scandal and was facing ten years. I crouched down and picked up the bills one by one. I turned and left, not even having the courage to look back. Behind me, I heard the door lock click shut. Then came Ruby’s teasing voice, dripping with pleasure. “Ooh, careful… the handcuffs are so cold…”

I returned to our cold, empty apartment. On the wall hung a photo from our engagement. In it, I smiled—gentle and compliant. Adrian was expressionless. Darkness swallowed me like a rising tide. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed lead—heavy and painfully tight. At three in the morning, I heard the electronic lock beep. Click. The living room lights blazed on. The sudden brightness stabbed at my eyes. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark like some kind of ghost?” Adrian frowned, his voice dripping with displeasure. He loosened his tie and tossed his jacket onto the couch. “Sitting there like a damn phantom. Bad luck.” He walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and knocked it back. “Since you already saw, I’m not going to bother hiding it anymore.” He leaned against the cabinet, his posture lazy. “Ruby’s young. She’s vibrant. Being with her, I can actually relax.” “And you…” He looked me up and down. “We’ve been together too long. So long that when I’m having sex with you, I find myself distracted, counting how many new wrinkles you’ve developed.” My nails dug into my palms as I fought to keep my voice steady. “So that’s your excuse for cheating?” “Adrian, let’s break up.” Adrian stopped mid-sip. He set down his glass and walked toward me, step by deliberate step. He bent down, hands braced on the armrests of the couch, caging me in. “Break up?” He let out a low laugh. “Summer, get your head straight.” “Cameron’s case goes to trial next week.” “All I have to do is twitch a finger, and that crucial forensic report will conveniently go missing.” His tone was gentle, but his words were vicious. My pupils constricted sharply. Rage erupted inside me like a volcano. I shot to my feet and shoved him away. “Adrian! You’re disgusting!” Adrian grabbed my chin, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Shh. Be good.” “You’ll still be Mrs. Bennett.” “I need an obedient wife to take care of the house and deal with my family.” “Men need a little excitement, you know.” I jerked my head away and dry-heaved. Adrian’s expression darkened instantly. He released me with disgust. “You’re killing the mood.” He grabbed the jacket that reeked of Ruby’s perfume and threw it over my head. “Wash this. I need it tomorrow.” “And remember to visit Cameron at the detention center tomorrow.” “Make sure you tell him his brother-in-law is working ‘day and night’ to clear his name.” “If you don’t behave, I might need to take a few days off.” With that, he turned and headed toward the bathroom. Just then, his phone on the table lit up. A message from Ruby flashed on the screen. [Adrian, you’re amazing. Does she enjoy it this much too? My legs are still shaking~] Adrian paused and glanced at the screen. Not only did he not hide it—he actually chuckled. “That girl. So naughty.” His tone was like a knife plunging into my chest. I grabbed the ashtray from the table. Adrian, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, said coolly: “Cameron’s case file is still on my desk in the study.” My hand froze mid-air. The ashtray felt impossibly heavy. Finally, I let my hand drop, and the ashtray rolled onto the carpet. Despair wrapped around my throat like vines, choking me.

Days of stress and humiliation finally broke my body. My acute gastritis flared up while I was in the kitchen preparing honey water for Cameron. A sharp pain hit me, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was on a gurney in a hospital hallway. People rushed past. The noise was deafening, like a marketplace. A nurse walked over with a cold expression and slapped a payment notice onto my blanket. “Summer Lincoln, right? Pay up now, or we’re cutting off your IV.” I pulled out my phone to transfer money, but it showed insufficient funds. Adrian had transferred all my money out of my account! With trembling hands, I dialed Adrian’s number. No answer. I called again. He hung up. My stomach throbbed with pain. I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and shuffled toward the payment desk, clutching my abdomen. As I passed the VIP ward section, I heard a familiar voice. “Does it hurt? Let me blow on it. There, all better.” It was Adrian’s voice. So gentle it could melt sugar. I turned stiffly and looked through the half-open door at a scene that made my chest tighten. In the spacious, luxurious single room, Ruby sat on the bed wearing a pink hospital gown. Adrian sat beside her, peeling an apple. “Babe, I’m so clumsy. I burned myself making soup.” “No more kitchen for you. Just tell me what you want—I’ll make it.” Adrian sliced a piece of apple and fed it to her. “I already had the head of the hospital call in the best surgeon for a consultation. I promise you won’t have a scar.” I shoved the door open, clutching my cramping stomach, my face deathly pale. “Adrian, what gives you the right to freeze my account?” Adrian’s hand jerked. The apple slice fell to the floor. He turned around. The moment he saw me, the warmth in his eyes turned to ice. “Are you following me?” “Summer, have you no shame? Faking illness and chasing me to the hospital to make a scene?” Ruby shrank behind Adrian with a little gasp. “Oh my God! Your face is so scary, like a ghost…” Adrian patted her hand soothingly, then turned to glare at me. “Look what you did! You scared Ruby!” “She’s already timid—she can’t handle this kind of shock!” The cramping in my stomach intensified. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead. I was doubled over in pain, gripping the doorframe just to stay upright. “Adrian, what right do you have to take my money? That was for Cameron’s legal fees!” Adrian sneered. “You’ve been a little too defiant lately. Consider this a lesson.” He shoved me aside. Already weak, I crashed hard onto the floor. My stomach hit the ground. The pain made me curl up like a shrimp. I couldn’t even scream. My vision blurred. Adrian stepped over my body and scooped Ruby into his arms. “Did you hurt your wound just now? Let’s switch rooms and have the doctor check you again.” I lay alone on the cold floor, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. “That guy’s brutal.” “His wife’s in so much pain…” A family member from a nearby bed finally called for help. When I woke up again, I was in the emergency room. My phone held a message from Adrian. An invoice. [Ruby suffered psychological trauma from the scare. Her wound tore open again and she’s experiencing mental distress.] [VIP room fees plus emotional damages: $50,000 total.] [Deducting it from your brother’s legal fees.] Then Marcus called. He was Cameron’s gallery owner—and the only friend who knew what I was going through. “Summer, we have a problem.” Marcus’s voice was urgent. “Cameron’s forensic report came back, but… Adrian’s withholding it unilaterally.” “He says it needs re-examination and can’t be submitted to the court yet.” “If we don’t get the original by tomorrow morning, Cameron’s going to be taken into custody.” My phone slipped from my hand.

I yanked the IV from my arm. Blood backflowed, staining half my hand red. I took a cab through the pouring rain to Adrian’s private villa. Adrian was celebrating Ruby’s birthday there tonight. The forensic report was in the study. I was soaked to the bone, looking like a beggar as I burst into the villa. The main hall was ablaze with lights, music pounding loud enough to hurt. A crowd of well-dressed men and women were partying. At the center were Adrian and Ruby. Ruby wore a pristine white evening gown, nestled in Adrian’s arms. It was the dress I’d worn at our wedding reception. “Adrian and Ruby are such a perfect match!” “That Summer Lincoln is nothing.” Adrian stroked Ruby’s hair affectionately. I stood in the doorway, rainwater dripping from my hair onto the carpet. “Adrian. Give me the report.” My voice wasn’t loud, but in the brief pause between songs, it rang clearly through the hall. Everyone turned to look at me. Their eyes glittered with anticipation, eager for the drama. Adrian swirled his wine glass lazily, looking down at me. “Summer, you’re getting more and more out of line.” “This is Ruby’s birthday party. Why are you dressed like you’re attending a funeral?” Ruby lifted her skirt and walked over, covering her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, don’t be mad! I just thought this wedding dress was so beautiful—I wanted to try it on.” “Adrian said I look way better in it than you do. Why don’t you just give it to me?” I stared hard at Adrian. “I just want the report. Keep the dress. Keep Adrian. I don’t want any of it.” Adrian’s expression darkened instantly. He slammed his glass down on the table and pointed at the broken glass scattered on the floor. Someone had knocked over a champagne tower earlier. “You want the report? Fine.” “Crawl over here on your knees. Hold up Ruby’s train so the dirty glass doesn’t stain her wedding dress.” “If you make her happy, I’ll give you the report.” The room fell silent. Then erupted in even louder laughter. “Crawl! For your brother, what’s a little crawling?” “Adrian really knows how to have fun!” I looked at the sea of broken glass, the sharp edges glinting coldly. Then I looked at Adrian’s emotionless face. For Cameron. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and dropped to my knees. The moment my knees touched the glass, searing pain shot through me. Blood instantly stained the white carpet. I bit down hard and crawled forward, one agonizing movement at a time. Every inch I crawled left a trail of blood behind me. The room filled with jeers and whistles. I crawled to Ruby’s feet and lifted her train with shaking hands. Adrian watched the scene, a flicker of something complicated crossing his eyes—but it was quickly replaced by satisfaction. He pulled an envelope from his jacket and tossed it in front of me. “Take it. That’s what you wanted.” I grabbed it like a lifeline, my hands trembling as I opened it. But the moment I saw what was inside, my blood ran cold. This wasn’t the forensic report. It was a confession letter! Written in a forgery of Cameron’s handwriting, admitting to all charges! “Adrian…” I looked up at him, rage blazing in my eyes. Adrian smiled lightly. “Cameron entered the same national competition that Ruby competed in. I think this confession suits him better.” “I’ll help him get a reduced sentence. He’ll only have to serve three to five years.” Ruby crouched in front of me innocently, her big eyes blinking. “Sorry, sis. I made a bet with my friends that I’d win that competition. Your brother’s just going to have to stay inside for a while.” Every shred of sanity I had left shattered in that moment. I grabbed a steak knife from the table and lunged at Ruby. Ruby stumbled backward in panic. “Help! She’s trying to kill me!” She flailed wildly, knocking over a massive candelabra on the table. The burning candles rolled off and ignited the flammable drapes. Flames shot up, racing along the carpet. “Fire! Run!” The crowd screamed and scattered. The fire spread with terrifying speed, thick smoke billowing everywhere. Adrian’s face changed. Without hesitation, he scooped Ruby into his arms. “Ruby, don’t be scared. I’ll get you out!” He charged toward the door. On his way, he kicked over a storage shelf that was blocking the path. The heavy wooden frame crashed down and pinned both my legs. Crack. The sound of bones snapping. I screamed. I was trapped. Through the flames, I watched Adrian carry Ruby out the front door. Smoke choked my lungs. My chest burned. The temperature around me climbed higher. My skin began to blister. I looked down at the fake confession in my hand, pulled out a lighter, and set it on fire. The flames reflected in my tear-filled eyes. If I’m going to die, I’ll die completely. A massive explosion shook the villa. Everything went dark.

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When the billionaire who kept me as his sugar baby was exposed as a “fake heir,” he was driven to slit his wrists in a dingy basement by the real heir. I stole the sugar baby contract we had signed years ago, planning to tear it up and make a run for it. Suddenly, countless glowing comments started scrolling across my vision like a holographic live-stream. [The side character is a gold-digger after all. Her running away perfectly clears the path for our female lead!] [If she knew that leaving him means she’ll find a psycho sugar daddy who tortures her to death, while the male lead bounces back in just six months to become the youngest tech billionaire in the country and lives happily ever after with the female lead, she’d probably die of regret!] My hand trembled. I completely ripped the agreement in half. Without a second thought, I rushed into the bathroom and saw Elijah Montgomery already bleeding from a deep cut on his wrist. I threw myself at him, grabbing his arm, crying without caring about how I looked. “Baby, don’t die! Without you, who’s going to pay my bills? I still want to renew our contract!” His gloomy gaze fell on the shredded agreement on the floor. He spoke softly. “Is that so?” 【Chapter 1】 1. “You were only with me for my money, and now you see the reality.” His eyes shifted mechanically across the dark, damp basement apartment. His usually flush lips were deathly pale. I pressed my hands hard over his bleeding wrist, but the crimson drops still splattered onto the floor tiles. “I was kicked out of the Montgomery family. I have to hide in this cheap underground studio. I can’t even afford to feed myself, let alone you. So just go. I don’t blame you.” The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I couldn’t stop a shudder from ripping through me. I had been with Elijah for eight years. To outsiders, he was the gentle, refined heir apparent. But I was the only one who knew he was a venomous snake wearing human skin, a man who sought vengeance for the smallest slight. He easily said he didn’t blame me, but his hidden hand was clenched so tight his knuckles were white. I was skeptical of the floating text that had magically appeared before my eyes, but my survival instincts kicked in, and I made a split-second decision. I absolutely could not leave. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even have to wait for some psycho to torture me to death—Elijah would destroy me first. I leaned forward decisively and crashed my lips against his pale ones. Elijah instantly took control, kissing me so fiercely I could barely breathe. When I finally managed to push him away, I was panting. I picked up the shredded pieces of our sugar baby contract from the floor, and under his stunned gaze, tore them into even smaller pieces. I cupped his face and looked at him seriously. “Elijah, I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore.” A flash of ruthless, desperate killing intent crossed Elijah’s eyes. The floating comments filled my vision again, mocking me. [I thought the side character actually changed her mind! Turns out she’s just here to twist the knife. Just wait. You abandon the male lead now, and when you’re being tortured later and beg him for help, he won’t even look at you.] [Once she leaves, the female lead will rush in and save him. From then on, he starts his epic comeback and revenge arc!] I ignored their filthy words. My voice was soft and gentle, carrying a barely detectable hint of nervousness. “I know you might get mad at me for saying this now… but since we’re finally on the same level, will you be my boyfriend?” Elijah’s eyes widened slightly. Before I could hear his answer, my vision went completely black. Right before I lost consciousness, I saw one last glowing sentence. [So what if she changes her mind? Anyone who deviates from the plot will only suffer!] A surge of pure rage boiled in my chest. Follow the plot? The plot was literally telling me to go die! Why the hell should I? In the darkness, it felt like a fire was constantly burning me. I ran and ran until I finally snapped my eyes open. I sat up violently. I was lying in a hospital bed, drenched in cold sweat, my internal organs throbbing with a piercing pain. A groan escaped my lips. An ice-cold hand pressed against my forehead, and Elijah’s voice, thick with lingering terror, rang out. “Aria, are you feeling better?” The pain was torturing me every second. Having been with Elijah for eight years, he had always given me whatever I wanted and never let me suffer a single scratch. I had long been spoiled by him, and I couldn’t help but cry out, “It hurts… it hurts so much.” He stood up, utterly helpless, and ran out to find a doctor. The ER doctor shot me an impatient look. “If you don’t have the cash for the scans, discharge her. Don’t take up a bed here. What can I do if she’s uncomfortable? No money, no treatment.” Elijah let out a furious, low growl. “Give her the best full-body scan! I have—” His voice cut off abruptly. His usually straight spine bent, and he lowered his head, not daring to look at me. The doctor scoffed sarcastically. “Just leave. If you stay any longer, you literally won’t have a single thing left on your body to pawn off.” It was only then that I noticed the platinum signet ring was missing from his pinky finger. Fighting through the agonizing pain, I forced myself out of bed, grabbed Elijah’s hand, and dragged him out of the room, comforting him endlessly as we walked. “Honestly, the pain goes away as long as I’m with you. You’re my painkiller, baby. You really can’t ever leave me.” A scalding tear dropped onto our intertwined hands. Elijah’s voice was hoarse. “I won’t.” I let out a tiny smile. I wasn’t lying. 2. [The male lead chose to take her to the hospital and completely missed his encounter with the female lead! The plot isn’t progressing at all!] [The plot’s punishment mechanism has weakened too. No wonder the side character can still walk. With the original punishment intensity, defying the plot would have left her begging for death!] [Honestly, I kind of ship them. The ruined billionaire and the spoiled canary who refuses to leave his side? It’s kind of rare and sweet.] I hid the dark gleam in my eyes, piecing together a survival strategy from their fragmented words. Even though I’d be punished for breaking the plot, as long as Elijah chose me without hesitation, the plot would stall, and the punishment would weaken—or maybe even disappear? The key was Elijah’s love. I turned my head and looked at the once arrogant, untouchable golden boy following closely behind me, carefully holding my hand. I smiled until my eyes formed crescents. “Elijah, now that you’re my boyfriend, you’re going to work super hard and make sure I can live the luxurious life I used to, right?” “I absolutely will.” He spoke with absolute certainty, making a solemn vow. [Why does it feel like the male lead went from a sugar daddy to her loyal dog?] [Just wait until he goes out looking for work and gets humiliated and degraded. The female lead will swoop in to save him from hell, and their feelings will skyrocket. THAT is the most important plot point!] [Missing their first encounter means nothing. True love cannot be stopped. Don’t get cocky, side character. Go find your next sugar daddy already!] I didn’t stop Elijah from going out to work. The phantom pain tortured me constantly, and sleeping was my only relief. He came back exhausted every single day. His clothes, which used to be impeccably tailored and spotless, were now covered in dust at the knees. Through the floating comments, I learned he had gone to his former high-society friend, Derrick Clayton. Derrick completely looked down on his “fake heir” status but was insanely jealous of his natural genius for business. So, Derrick resorted to torturing him with petty humiliations. The once-proud man was forced to kneel on one knee and shine other people’s designer shoes. He carried heavy five-gallon water jugs up twenty-six flights of stairs to stock every office. He stood in the breakroom for three hours, brewing coffee for the entire corporate floor. Derrick even made him scrub the executive bathrooms. I could smell the harsh bleach on his clothes when he came home. But even through all of that, the very first look he gave me when he walked through the door was always a smile. He set down the cheap groceries he bought and immediately pulled me into a hug. “Are you feeling any better today?” I groggily opened my eyes and planted a loud kiss on his cheek. “I feel so much better after you hug me.” “I’m so hungry. Let’s eat.” Elijah took the groceries and skillfully began to cook. I propped my head up, thoroughly enjoying the complete meltdown happening in the floating comments. [He used to shower three times if he even smelled a hint of grease, and now he’s spending three meals a day sweating in a tiny kitchen just to cook for her!] [She compliments him once and he loses his mind with happiness. This girl really knows how to act spoiled. ‘You’re my painkiller’—ugh, it gives me goosebumps!] I rolled over on the bed. Oh, there was much more than that. After we ate, Elijah would do my laundry, clean the entire apartment, and then give me a full-body massage. Only after I fell asleep would he start working on the files he brought home. As long as he was home, even the slightest noise I made was treated like a national emergency. Just like right now. Elijah knelt beside me wearing an apron. “Does it hurt when you roll over? Do you need me to do anything?” I put on a sweet, whiny voice. “I need my boyfriend to kiss me.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. His hands, which used to sign billion-dollar acquisition deals, gently massaged my temples with perfect pressure. The restless pain throbbing in my body eased significantly. I narrowed my eyes comfortably and directed him to massage my shoulders. A harsh ringtone shattered the peace. Elijah paused before answering the call. He frowned, looking at me apologetically. “There’s an issue at work. Aria, I have to go out for a bit. After you finish eating, just leave the dishes on the table. I’ll wash them when I get back.” I watched him leave. The floating comments exploded like fireworks. [Derrick has been waiting for this! He didn’t call him out for work—he’s setting a trap! He’s going to break the male lead’s pride and sexually assault him! Thank god the female lead is there to save him. The scene I’ve been waiting for is finally here! My ultimate OTP is about to rise!] [After tonight, the side character will be kicked to the curb. I’ve been sick of this manipulative bitch for so long!] 3. My mind snapped to attention. Forcing myself through the waves of pain, I climbed out of bed and chased after Elijah to intercept his destined romantic night with the female lead. Following the hints from the comments, I stood outside a pulsing VIP nightclub. Slipping past the bouncers when they weren’t looking, I snuck inside. The deafening bass made my phantom pain flare up wildly. The center of the club was packed. Pushing through the rings of people, I finally spotted Elijah, pinned to the floor under someone’s foot. Derrick ground the toe of his leather shoe hard into Elijah’s face, crushing him against the floor. The ground was covered in shattered glass that dug deep into Elijah’s body. Blood mixed with spilled liquor, blooming across the floor and creating a sickening metallic stench that made my stomach churn. “Do you still think you’re the golden boy? You’re just a counterfeit piece of trash! Getting kicked out of your mansion means you’re nothing. If I didn’t throw you a bone, you’d be begging on the streets right now!” “I just asked you to do a little striptease for us. You had no problem kneeling to shine my shoes, so why are you acting so high and mighty now?” Derrick wore a disgusting, perverted grin, pinching Elijah’s face until it turned red. He was notorious in their circle for swinging both ways, but no one expected him to target Elijah. “You must be exhausted from slumming it lately. As long as you drop the attitude and let me have some fun with you, I can give you all the money and power you want.” Elijah’s chest heaved violently. He stared at Derrick with lethal intensity. “Spit.” He spat a mouthful of blood right into Derrick’s face. The response was a brutal rain of kicks and punches. Derrick furiously wiped his face, jumping up and down in a psychotic rage. “Break his arms and legs! Strip him naked and hang him from the ceiling! Let’s see how long he lasts without food or water!” A bodyguard raised a heavy barstool, slamming it down viciously. Elijah let out a muffled groan, swallowing the scream in his throat. My eyes went entirely red. I forgot about the plot, the pain, everything. I grabbed a sharp fruit knife from a nearby VIP table and charged in, swinging wildly. “Let us go! Or none of you are walking out of here alive!” I had never been this close to real danger. My voice was shaking uncontrollably. Derrick stepped back, startled by my crazed appearance. Then, he narrowed his eyes and burst into a realization-filled laugh. “Oh, it’s Elijah’s little pet canary, Aria Kensington. You’re still with him even though he’s dead broke? What a loyal little whore.” His wicked eyes darted between us. “I’ve played with men and women, but I’ve never played with a tragic pair of lovers at the same time. Looks like I’ve found a fun new toy tonight.” “Come be my mistress. You’ll get way more out of me than you ever will from him.” The second those words left his mouth, the veins on Elijah’s forehead bulged. Moving with explosive, terrifying speed, the exhausted man lying on the floor ripped the knife from my hand and drove it directly into Derrick’s eye socket. “Don’t you dare touch her!” But Derrick had numbers on his side. Bodyguard after bodyguard swarmed forward, pinning Elijah down and beating him relentlessly. Derrick rolled on the floor in absolute agony, screaming at the top of his lungs. “A doctor! Get a fucking doctor! Skin Elijah alive! I want him to wish he was dead!” I tried uselessly to throw myself in front of Elijah, but someone kicked me hard in the chest. I flew backward, crashing into a heavy glass table, and vomited a mouthful of blood. The fists raining down on Elijah were brutal and heavy, but he acted as if he couldn’t feel the pain. It was only when he saw me throw up blood that he began thrashing violently under their grip. His bloodshot eyes locked onto me, and he mouthed silently: Run. [Even though I knew this scene was coming, it’s still so hard to watch. This event leaves him with permanent, severe trauma. It takes the female lead’s pure love to finally pull him out of the darkness.] [Derrick is the psycho who tortures the side character to death later. He’s such scum, I wish I could jump through the screen and kill him myself!] I read that sentence in a daze. Unwillingness and pure, unfiltered rage flooded my brain. Why the hell should I die at the hands of a scumbag like him? Why does he get to torture Elijah like this?! I grabbed a jagged shard of broken glass from the floor and lunged at the unprotected Derrick. Amidst his crazed screaming, I drove the glass deep into his neck. The arterial spray soaked my hair and face in hot crimson. A sharp, feminine voice cut through the chaos. “Stop! If anyone dares to hurt Elijah again, I will make them pay the ultimate price!” Sparks seemed to explode behind my eyes. The floating comments cheered wildly. [The male and female leads finally meet! The plot is finally back on track!] An all-consuming, apocalyptic pain swept through my entire body, draining every ounce of my strength. I collapsed softly to the floor. Using the very last bit of my energy, I turned my head to look at Elijah. Only to see a fleeting flash of absolute awe in his eyes as he looked toward the door. 【Chapter 2】 4. That sharp, feminine voice pierced my skin like a needle. I lay paralyzed on the sticky, alcohol-soaked floor. Through my blurred vision, I saw a woman in a pristine white designer dress walking briskly toward us. Her hem brushed against the shattered glass, yet didn’t pick up a single speck of dirt. She was followed by a dozen men in black suits, who instantly pinned Elijah’s attackers to the ground. “Elijah, are you alright?” The woman knelt down, her voice so gentle it could melt ice. She reached out her hand to help him up. I recognized her. It was Serena Waldorf, the female lead whose name the comments chanted endlessly—Elijah’s destined “epic romance.” But Elijah violently jerked his head away, dodging her hand, and desperately dragged himself across the floor toward me. Before he could push himself halfway up, Serena’s bodyguards clamped down on his shoulders. “This young woman is severely injured. Treat her first.” Serena’s tone brooked no argument, but her eyes were locked obsessively onto Elijah. “Don’t worry. I will handle everything.” [The female lead is finally shining! This is a true goddess—beautiful, powerful, and kindhearted!] [The male lead is definitely moved. Look, he’s stunned! The side character can finally get lost.] The ecstatic cheering in the comments felt like needles driving into my pupils. I saw Elijah’s Adam’s apple bob. The look in his eyes as he stared at Serena truly held that “awe” the comments predicted—the instinctual yearning for a “savior,” a desperate reaching for light when you are trapped in the abyss. My heart plummeted into an icy canyon. My hand, still clutching the bloody shard of glass, began to tremble uncontrollably. “Don’t touch her,” Elijah suddenly rasped out. His voice was raw, like crushed gravel, but undeniably resolute. “Help Aria first.” The gentle smile on Serena’s face froze for a fraction of a second before melting back into perfect warmth. “She’s lost a lot of blood, and I’ve already called for an ambulance. But your injuries are worse. We have to treat you immediately.” She reached out again to physically lift him, but Elijah shoved her away violently. “I said, help her.” He forced himself forward, ignoring his own gaping wounds, and carefully pulled me into his arms. The broken glass on the floor dug deep gashes into his palms, but he acted as if he couldn’t feel it. He just used his sleeve to obsessively wipe the blood from my face. “Don’t be scared, Aria. I’m right here.” Just then, a mob of men burst through the club’s back doors, led by Derrick’s cousin, Brad Clayton. Seeing Derrick’s lifeless body on the floor, Brad’s eyes went completely red. “Elijah! Aria! You killed my cousin! None of you are leaving here alive today!” Serena’s bodyguards instantly formed a wall, but Brad’s men were heavily armed with steel pipes. This was a premeditated ambush. “Miss Waldorf, this has nothing to do with you. If you know what’s good for you, get the hell out of the way!” Brad spat on the floor, his eyes darting maliciously between Elijah and me. “My cousin gave an order. I’m going to make this bitch and her dog wish they were never born!” Serena frowned and stood her ground. Her bodyguards shielded her, but they didn’t make a move to attack. I instantly understood. That “saving him from hell” the comments raved about was never a charity act. She was waiting. Waiting for Elijah to drop his pride and beg her for help. Elijah tightened his arms around me. He pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing shallow but unwavering. “Aria, hide behind me.” He tried to stand up, but I grabbed the hem of his ruined shirt in a death grip. “Don’t…” I forced the words out with the last of my strength. “Don’t leave me.” [The side character is so annoying! The male lead could easily team up with the female lead and handle this, but she insists on holding him back!] [Brad Clayton is a notorious psychopath in the underground scene. The side character is going to get the male lead killed!]

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When I found out that Arthur’s little mistress was my own biological sister… I didn’t go crazy, and I didn’t get hysterical like I used to. After all, I’m the top surgeon at City General, and my reputation is incredibly valuable. Those two just aren’t worth it. When Chloe sent me a photo of Arthur accompanying her in the delivery room, I merely glanced at it before continuing to enjoy my imported truffle shrimp. I’ve seen plenty of pregnant women with bulging bellies; her unborn child wasn’t worth ruining my good mood over. Walking past the administration desk, the young nurses were full of sweet compliments. They all said I looked radiant lately, blooming more beautifully than an eighteen-year-old. Just as I finished thanking them, Arthur’s call came through at the worst possible time: “The baby’s paperwork is all sorted out. Stella, it’s time for us to get remarried.” Hearing him say that, I suddenly remembered—oh right, I actually have an ex-husband. I cleared my throat and spoke very seriously: “Arthur, remarry? You’re ancient history to me.” … “I know I did you wrong with this whole thing, but you know how badly I wanted this child…” I waited quietly, counting to three. The man’s voice abruptly stopped. It took him a long moment to find his voice again, filled with disbelief: “Stella, what do you mean? You… you don’t want to remarry?” I checked off the caviar on my menu with a pen before replying slowly: “Yeah, exactly what you said.” “Don’t make jokes like that. I don’t like it.” Arthur’s voice grew louder, a bit grating. I raised an eyebrow and scoffed lightly: “Whether you like it or not is your problem. Anyway, I’ve said my piece.” “Chloe has already had the baby, and he’s registered on my family’s insurance. What are you throwing a tantrum for now? I told you when we got divorced.” “I just needed an heir, but the position of Mrs. Sterling will only ever be yours. Give me one more chance, okay?” Arthur rarely showed weakness, putting on a full display of trying to win me back. But I knew this was just another excuse. Just like the first time I caught him and my sister having an affair. With red eyes, he swore he would cut it off with her, begging me for a chance. I gave it to him. When I found out my sister was pregnant, I stormed into the Hayes family home, but he stopped me. He knelt at my feet, saying he would have the baby aborted, begging for one more chance. I gave it to him again. But what happened in the end? That child was delivered safely in the very hospital where I work, in my own department. The whole hospital knows. My wonderful sister gave birth to my nephew, but the father is my husband. My phone chimed right on cue. I didn’t even need to look to know the star of the show was Chloe again. “The baby is one month old, our family of five is reunited! Some people are very sensible and know not to come and be an eyesore!” My parents were holding their grandson, smiling from ear to ear. Arthur had his arms around Chloe, his gaze blindingly tender. If this were a year ago, I would have been hysterical. I would have called my parents, demanding to know why they indulged her so much. I would have grabbed Arthur by the collar, demanding to know what gave him the right to treat me like this. But now, I just smiled and commented below: “Birds of a feather flock together. A perfect match!” Our social circle is small; that one comment instantly racked up hundreds of likes. Some of my close friends even left sarcastic comments underneath. Sure enough, Arthur couldn’t sit still. He called, using his familiar tone: “Stella, I knew you were just saying you didn’t want to remarry out of anger.” Without waiting for me to speak, he kept talking to himself, a hint of joy hidden in his voice: “Chloe wasn’t intentionally showing off; she was just too happy to see Mom and Dad.” “She asked me to accompany her home for a visit before we remarry. I had no choice but to…” Chapter 2 Seeing that I remained silent, he continued laying the groundwork: “She’s nursing right now, and everything affects the baby. She can’t handle any stress. Stella, could you please just yield to her for now? Don’t make a mess on her Facebook…” I picked at my ear, not feeling a shred of disappointment. After all, I was numb to words like this. I gave up my parents, gave up my marriage, gave up my man, stepping back again and again. Now, am I supposed to give up my right to speak, too? Arthur wasn’t used to my silence. He sighed and spoke again, the same old tired clichés. “Come home tonight, okay? Chloe has already moved out of the master bedroom. The room is exactly how you left it, and I even bought that emerald necklace you love.” “Stella, once the baby is weaned, I will absolutely cut all ties with Chloe. You have my word, I do what I say…” Hearing this, whatever patience I had left for him was completely exhausted. Without waiting for him to finish—click—I hung up. The next day, a persistent Arthur showed up at my clinic. Seeing me seeing patient after patient without a break, he looked heartbroken and tried to comfort me: “Stella, don’t punish yourself like this because of me. It hurts me to see… I know you’re still angry. As long as you don’t hurt yourself, you can hit me or curse at me.” He was probably afraid I would take a fruit knife to my wrists like I did a year ago. Even when my parents rushed over, I merely moved the blade from my wrist to my carotid artery. I didn’t say a word, just stood up and kicked him out. It wasn’t until after lunch that he came to my office again, his voice heavy with exhaustion: “Stella, I’ve said every nice thing I could possibly say. Why are you still making such a fuss? You won’t go home, you won’t go to Mom and Dad’s, and you won’t talk to me? How long are you going to keep this up?” A fuss? Arthur just blindly kept pestering me as if he couldn’t understand human speech. But I was annoyed. I was sick of it. I reached back, pulled the divorce certificate out of my drawer, and slammed it into his face. “Arthur, we’ve had nothing to do with each other for a long time. What right do you have to expect me to talk to you!” Arthur froze for a few seconds before reacting. He lunged forward and grabbed me: “You know I had no choice! You know Chloe and I are only doing this for the baby! Why are you so selfish?” “Fighting for our parents’ love at home, getting jealous over nothing outside…” Slap! The rest of his words were scattered by my slap. “Arthur, talking against your conscience will bring you bad karma. We ended up here entirely because of you!” I was raised by my grandmother since I was little. Chloe never liked me. Whatever I had, ate, or used, she wanted to steal it. Toys, pretty dresses, extracurricular classes, competition spots, and finally, our parents’ love. Whenever I questioned it, my parents would always say: “She’s your younger sister, she’s little. What’s the harm in letting her have it?” In the end, I slowly became an invisible person in my own home. Until I met Arthur in college. We fell in love and decided to get married early. My biological sister, Chloe, played her old tricks again, constantly harassing Arthur. My biological parents abandoned me, using the guise of being his future in-laws to create opportunities for her. Drugging him, showing up at his door in the middle of the night… Arthur was so annoyed he was forced to call the cops. She didn’t give up. Instead, she went so crazy she tried to run me over with a car. In the end, my grandmother pushed me out of the way, taking the hit under the wheels herself. When my parents arrived, they comforted the “startled” Chloe first, then slapped me across the face, cursing me for being a jinx. My grandmother’s death left me completely disheartened. But Arthur held a positive pregnancy test and hugged me, saying, “Stella, Grandma must have known you were sad, so she sent this baby to keep you company.” Because of the baby in my belly, I slowly began to recover. I managed my pregnancy while looking for postpartum care centers. Until the baby was eight months along, my parents suddenly showed up to apologize. A bowl of soup left me unconscious. When I woke up, I saw Chloe sitting on Arthur’s lap, riding him. Then, blood poured from between my legs like a fountain. I miscarried. I could never be a mother again. And Arthur and I got a divorce. Chapter 3 “You have the nerve to say I get jealous over nothing? You have the nerve to mention the baby? The people who killed my baby are you two!” Right after I miscarried, Chloe was diagnosed as pregnant. During the many nights I woke up crying. I thought it was all a dream. But Chloe’s increasingly bulging belly proved they had slept together long before. That’s why my parents couldn’t wait to use a bowl of poisoned soup to kill my baby. Thinking of all that, Arthur’s face turned deathly pale. His lips moved, but he couldn’t even string a sentence together: “Stella… I’m sorry, I regretted it a long time ago.” I regretted it too. I regretted being born into the Hayes family, regretted ever meeting Arthur. I raised my hand to wipe the moisture from the corner of my eye, pointed at the door, and said coldly: “Get out!” Arthur opened his mouth, but couldn’t make another sound. He only hunched over and left, looking like a lost soul. In the years we were together, I had seen all sorts of views of Arthur’s back. The joyous one when we got our marriage license at City Hall. The spirited one when he rang the bell at the New York Stock Exchange. But I had never seen this pathetic and defeated one. I took a deep breath, preparing for my afternoon surgery. Two o’clock. After I changed into my scrubs, I realized the person lying on the operating table was Chloe. The young nurse stammered an explanation: “Dr. Hayes, she was scheduled by the Hospital President…” Chloe curled her lips, leaned close to my ear, and provoked me: “Even if I ran over your grandmother and killed your son, even if you hate it, you still have to play the dutiful servant and perform my surgery yourself.” I shot her a cold glare and turned to leave. But someone forcefully intercepted me at the door. My biological mother clutched a white ceramic urn, looking at me coldly: “Either perform the surgery for Chloe, or your son’s ashes hit the floor. Choose!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. I sluggishly looked at Arthur standing behind her. The location where my baby was buried… only he knew… no one else did. Arthur turned his head away, not daring to look at me. The taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked at them, my voice hoarse: “He’s your grandson, he’s your son. How could you…” Arthur quickly cut me off, making a guarantee: “Chloe has acute mastitis and can’t breastfeed. As long as you do the surgery, the baby’s ashes will definitely be returned to you!” My mother took the opportunity to raise her hand, urging me impatiently. “What are you standing there for! Hurry up! A piece of trash like you is only good for this much!” I didn’t care about her cruelty. But I cared about my son’s ashes. He was so small, so soft. He hadn’t even seen the world yet; he shouldn’t be left without a resting place. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the blood in my throat and turned around stiffly. Under Chloe’s disdainful gaze, I put my gloves back on and picked up the scalpel. Minutes ticked by. When the last suture was snipped. I desperately rushed out of the operating room. Only to see the baby’s ash urn falling from mid-air. “No!” Arthur rushed over from a distance, but he was still a step too late. Smash! The grayish-white powder scattered everywhere, splashing all over. My mother’s shrill voice exploded in my ear: “The psychic said this little bastard has resentment and brings bad luck to my grandson. He had to be destroyed!” As soon as the words left her mouth, I grabbed a nearby thermos of hot water and hurled it at her with all my might. “Ah—” Chapter 4 With a scream, my mother collapsed limply to the floor. I didn’t even look at her. I just dropped to my knees with a thud, desperately trying to gather the baby’s ashes from all around. I didn’t dare cry, didn’t dare shed a tear. I was terrified that the moisture would dissolve my baby’s ashes. But the hallway floor wasn’t entirely dry. The pathetically small amount of my baby’s ashes were blown by the wind and dissolved by the water. I poked my fingers until they bled, and by the end, I only had a fist-sized clump of ash left. “Baby, Mommy is useless. I couldn’t protect you…” I murmured to myself, voice hoarse, fighting back tears. My whole body convulsed with pain. “Stella… don’t be like this, you’re scaring me.” Arthur lunged forward, wanting to touch my blood-stained hands, his voice trembling non-stop. I stared at him with bloodshot eyes and spat out a single word: “Scram!” “Stella, it’s all my fault. You can hit me or curse me…” Arthur looked at me, his choking voice full of guilt. I shoved him aside, cradled the baby’s ashes, and stumbled out. When I handled everything and returned to the hospital, it was nearing sunset. As soon as I got out of my car, several bodyguards dragged and hauled me up to the third floor. The door to the VIP intensive care unit opened, revealing Chloe’s venomous face. She rushed forward, slapped me fiercely, and screamed abuse at me: “You bitch! What did you leave inside my breast? Why does it hurt even more?” Arthur was about to intervene, but she shoved him away. Chloe snatched the fruit knife from the table, held it against her own son’s head, and glared viciously: “Arthur! This bitch intentionally harmed me. I want you to punish her properly for me, otherwise, I’ll kill this child!” Arthur looked at me, then at the nearly demonic Chloe. He showed a look of exhaustion and pleaded: “Chloe, he’s your son too. Can you really bear to…” Chloe sneered and didn’t speak. She just plunged the blade down hard, instantly staining the white swaddle red with blood. The infant’s screams of pain echoed through the hospital room. A profound agony flashed through Arthur’s eyes. After giving me a look full of guilt, he gritted his teeth and asked: “How do you want to punish her?” Chloe curled her lips, her smile utterly malicious. “An eye for an eye. Cut open her breast and put some ‘seasoning’ in there. That’ll be compensation enough for me!” I turned my head to look at Arthur, hoping he still had a shred of rationality left. “Mastitis is a minor surgery. I’ve done it over ten thousand times and never failed. You can’t just listen to one side of the story…” Arthur didn’t say a word, just slowly walked up to me. He lowered his voice: “Stella, this is the last time. Once this is over, I’ll completely settle the score with the Hayes family.” With that, he turned his back and waved his hand. Like a dog, I was dragged onto the surgical table. Riiiip. My clothes were torn open and thrown to the floor. Cold air roamed over my body like needles. The person operating on me wasn’t even a doctor, just a nurse with trembling hands. “Wait!” Chloe side-eyed me: “She’s so good at enduring pain, let’s skip the anesthesia.” She spoke to me, but her eyes were fixed on Arthur a few feet away. The air went still for a moment. After a long time, the man nodded. The cold blade slithered over my chest like a venomous snake. Cold sweat, mixed with blood, poured out like water. I thought of my grandmother’s wrinkled, smiling face. I thought of my baby’s cold, stiff body. Figures blurred before my eyes. Through the haze, Chloe’s malicious voice sounded above me. “You bitch, for the sake of us being sisters, I’ll personally send you to hell!” The cold steel approached. I trembled all over, entirely powerless to fight back. Crash! The door was kicked open, and the black muzzle of a gun was pressed against the back of Chloe’s head. The intruder let out a chilling sneer: “Dare to touch her, and if Stella bleeds a single drop, I’ll make you pay with your lives!” Chapter 5 Chloe was scared stupid by the gun barrel and froze on the spot. Even her voice began to tremble: “Who… who are you? How dare you meddle in my business? How many lives do you have to lose?” Saying that, she strained her throat and started screaming. “Dad! Mom! Arthur!” But no matter how much she yelled, the area outside the operating room was dead quiet; there was no one around. The man knocked her out with the butt of his gun, then gently called out to me: “Stella, how are you? It’s Liam.” Liam… Hearing that name, my heart inexplicably relaxed, and unable to hold on any longer, I completely passed out. Meanwhile, Arthur was staring blankly at the DNA report. He scrutinized the single sheet of paper back and forth for over ten minutes. It took him a very long time to find his voice. He looked at the nurse with terror in his eyes and spoke incoherently: “Are you sure there isn’t a mistake? My son is so young, how could he have HIV?” The nurse looked at him with pity and explained patiently: “Mr. Sterling, the child is too young to be infected independently.” “This virus most likely came from genetic transmission from his parents…” “That’s even more impossible… I’m perfectly healthy, I’ve never been involved in any of that shady business…” Before he could finish his sentence, his mouth was stopped by another report the nurse handed him. The nurse pointed to the conclusion section of the report. “Chloe Hayes is his mother, right? We detected that her index is positive.” As she spoke, she glanced at Arthur’s deathly pale face and kindly suggested: “Mr. Sterling, it’s best if you get an HIV antibody test right now as well. We suspect there is a very high probability that you…” She didn’t finish the sentence. But Arthur understood perfectly. He had probably been infected a long time ago. It was an hour later when Arthur returned to the VIP intensive care unit like a lost soul. He felt dizzy, barely able to stand steady. “How is this… possible?” When Chloe got with him, she was clearly still a virgin. How could she get HIV? Could she have faked it? The child was born with HIV, so he… What was the point of all the compromises and concessions he had made recently? Arthur instinctively pulled out his phone and called Stella. But the line rang a few times and was disconnected. He called again, and it was hung up immediately. After trying a few times, the phone was turned off altogether. Nearing a mental breakdown, Arthur slumped to the floor, clutching his head and murmuring in defeat. “Stella, where are you? This isn’t real, is it?” He desperately wanted someone to give him an answer, to tell him that everything he experienced this afternoon was fake. Just like every time the company faced a crisis in the past, Stella was always the first to comfort him. The difficulties will pass. She will stay by his side forever. But this time, Stella was gone. He stumbled around, searching the entire operating wing, asking every nurse he bumped into: “Have you seen Stella? Where is Stella?” But they all shook their heads, and some even shoved him away, cursing: “What Stella? You’re crazy!” He ran through the entire inpatient building but couldn’t find a trace of Stella. Even Chloe and her mother, along with those bodyguards, seemed to have suddenly vanished. By the time he dragged his stiff legs back to the company, the entire office had exploded.

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My roommate’s uncle, River Wilde, had retired from the military. Word was he’d suffered nerve damage and would be wheelchair-bound for life. Most critically, he was impotent. But five years ago, on that stormy night, it was him. The man who’d left me so exhausted I could barely walk. I went to pick him up from the airport, terrified he’d recognize me. Until he saw my four-and-a-half-year-old son. That scar through his eyebrow, identical to River’s, was glaring under the lights. The man stared at this miniature version of himself and suddenly smiled. “Miss Sullivan, five years ago, the woman who slept with me, left two hundred dollars on the nightstand, and disappeared… that was you, wasn’t it?” Chloe POV My roommate’s uncle had retired from the military. They said he’d injured his nerves during peacekeeping operations overseas and would be wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life. Most critically, he was impotent. My roommate Madison was sobbing hysterically on the phone. “Our family line is finished! Chloe, can you pick him up from the airport tonight? I’ll cover your rent for the whole year!” I gripped my phone, frozen in place. River Wilde? No heir? Impossible! Five years ago, on that stormy night, the man who went at me like a rabid dog until I nearly fell apart, his stamina was unreal! Back then I’d blacked out drunk, slept with him thinking he was a male escort, left two hundred dollars as payment, and fled in the middle of the night. And then I got pregnant! I glanced instinctively at my son on the carpet. His eyes, his nose, and that naturally scarred eyebrow above his left eye-he was a miniature replica of that man! I’d been raising his son for four and a half years, and he didn’t have an heir? But… For Madison’s promise of free rent, I gritted my teeth and agreed. “Fine, I’ll go.” I took a deep breath, clinging to hope. After all, five years had passed. I’d gone from heavy makeup to bare-faced, and he was dysfunctional now-his memory should be fuzzy, right? Before leaving, I pinched my son’s cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m picking up a friend.” Liam blinked his eyes, so similar to River’s, and cut straight to the point. “Mom, your heart’s racing. Are you lying?” …This damned genetic dominance. 10 PM. Torrential rain. I parked my red Wrangler at the airport curb, my calves still cramping. Someone knocked on the window. A tall shadow stood in the rain. The man wore a black tactical jacket, rainwater sliding down his buzz cut and along his sharp jawline. This was supposed to be a broken man? This was clearly a wolf in his prime! Madison’s intel had never been reliable! I fumbled to unlock the door. The instant it opened, an aggressive wave of masculine pheromones flooded the car. The man slid into the passenger seat, his long legs cramped with nowhere to go. He turned his head, those pitch-black eyes sweeping emotionlessly across my face. His gaze felt tangible, like a blade scraping my skin. I held my breath, my heart nearly jumping out of my throat. “Hello, I’m Madison’s roommate, Chloe Sullivan.” Three seconds of dead silence. He suddenly quirked his lips, his voice low and teasing. “Why are your hands shaking? Am I that scary?” I gripped the steering wheel tighter. This voice was identical to the one that had whispered in my ear five years ago, forcing me to moan his name. He suddenly leaned in close, forcing me to lean back. Seeing me startled, he curved his lips in an ambiguous smile. “Why are you dodging? I’m just fastening your seatbelt.” His long fingers reached across me to click the buckle, but his gaze dropped to the collarbone visible at my neckline, his eyes darkening abruptly. “Though, Miss Sullivan, your scent… seems familiar.”

Chloe POV Those two words shot through me like an electric current. I went rigid, one thought consuming my mind. I’m done for. He recognized me. Five years ago that night, I’d used this exact custom body wash. It was a special blend from our studio, completely unavailable on the market. I clutched the steering wheel, my brain racing for an excuse. “R-really?” I forced a dry laugh, trying to kill the conversation. “Madison uses this body wash too. You probably smelled it on her.” River leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed yet radiating inexplicable pressure. “Drive.” I exhaled in relief and hit the gas. The car fell into suffocating silence. His deep voice suddenly broke it. “Madison said I’m a man with no reproductive ability?” I nearly ran a red light, jerking my head toward him in alarm, meeting his sardonic gaze. His fingertips tapped his knee. “She said my nerves are damaged, I’m in a wheelchair, sexually dysfunctional… do you believe that?” I couldn’t answer. Believe it or not, the key point was I’d experienced otherwise! That night had nearly broken my back. If that counted as dysfunctional, every man on earth would need ICU admission. But I didn’t dare say it. I could only play dumb. “Madison was just worried about you…” Just then, the car’s Bluetooth rang, the screen flashing “Ex-Husband”. That was the name I’d saved Madison as. My hand slipped and I answered the call. Madison’s booming voice immediately filled the car. “Chloe! Did you pick up that old cripple? Don’t provoke him! He might be impotent, but those hands are military-trained. He could crush you with one hand!” Deathly silence. The air pressure in the passenger seat plummeted to freezing. River narrowed his eyes, tongue pressing his cheek, laughing in disbelief. “Impotent?” He spoke coldly into the microphone. “Madison, is this how you introduce me to people?” A scream erupted from the other end, followed by an instant disconnect. I wanted to cry. I’d completely offended him now. River turned sideways, his large hand suddenly settling on my headrest, caging me in. He leaned in close, so close I could see the fine hairs on his scarred eyebrow. “Do you also think I’m impotent?” This was truly a life-or-death question. I improvised desperately. “No! I admire you! And I have no right to judge-my ex-husband had those same problems, which is why I divorced him and took the kid!” River paused, his expression strange. “You were married? You have a child?” “Divorced! The kid’s four and a half, has my last name.” He fell silent for a moment, his gaze roaming my face as if assessing truth from lies. After a long pause, he withdrew his hand and sat up straight. That aggressive pressure eased slightly, though his tone remained sharp. “That man was defective too?” I nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! He was tiny down there, and he used to hit me all the time! That’s why I left!” Insult away. I was cursing a nonexistent person anyway.. River snorted coldly, looking out the window, his voice emotionless. “That kind of trash deserves to die.” I quietly sighed in relief. At least I’d gotten through this round. But I didn’t notice- Reflected in the car window, the man’s expression wasn’t one of understanding. It was… excitement?

Chloe POV The car stopped outside Madison’s house. River didn’t move, his gaze landing on my phone screen that had just lit up. It showed a photo of me and my son Liam, his expression eerily similar to River’s. His slender fingers picked up the phone. “This is your son?” My scalp prickled as I snatched it back. “Yes! Just a random shot!” He didn’t dodge, his eyes narrowing. “Handsome kid. Doesn’t look like your ex?” “Not at all! Must be a genetic throwback or a mutation!” My guilty conscience made my volume spike. River scoffed and pushed open the door, tossing out an cryptic comment. “Let me take you to dinner sometime. I’d like to meet this genetically mutated little guy.” I watched him disappear, collapsing into the driver’s seat drenched in cold sweat. Meet Liam? Absolutely not! That scarred eyebrow would expose everything! When I got home, Liam was sprawled on the carpet drawing, looking up seriously. “Miss Sullivan, you’re forty-five minutes late.” I pulled him into a tight hug. “Sorry, I ran into a big monster.” Liam pushed me away, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Mom, you smell like smoke. It’s gross.” I sniffed my sleeve. It had indeed absorbed River’s sharp, domineering scent. In the shower, my thoughts drifted uncontrollably to five years ago. That night, the bathroom water had sounded just like this. That man had pinned me against the foggy mirror, his movements fierce, demanding over and over if I felt good. “Damn it!” I slapped my flushed face. This could never happen a second time! The next morning, Madison’s phone call woke me. “Chloe! Save me, Chloe!” Madison’s voice sounded near tears. “That psycho! First thing this morning he removed every lock in my house! Said it was for security checks!” “Worst part-he insists I take him to our studio! Says he wants clothes made!” My brain exploded with a bang. “Clothes? What clothes? We make women’s clothing!” “He says he wants men’s clothes! And he specifically wants you to take his measurements personally!” Madison was whimpering on the other end. “Chloe, for the sake of my life, I already agreed. We’ll be at the shop in ten minutes!” Ten minutes?! I looked at Liam still rubbing his eyes in bed. It was Saturday-no kindergarten! I’d planned to take Liam to the studio! If River ran into Liam at the shop… I didn’t dare imagine. “Quick! Liam, get dressed!” I yanked off the covers and frantically dressed my son. “Where are we going?” Liam looked confused. “Running for our lives!” I grabbed my son and rushed out, hitting the down button just as- Ding. The elevator doors slowly opened. Two people stood inside. One was a resigned-looking Madison. The other wore a black dress shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. River Wilde. He stood there in the elevator, his gaze piercing through the opening doors, landing precisely on me and Liam in my arms. In that moment, the world seemed to freeze. Liam blinked, then suddenly pointed at River and asked the ultimate question. “Mom, why does this Mr. Monster have a broken eyebrow just like mine?”

Chloe POV Madison’s jaw dropped. River’s pupils contracted sharply as he stepped out of the elevator in one stride, his presence overwhelming. I backed up with my son until I hit the wall. “Broken eyebrow?” River looked down at Liam, his voice light as a feather yet heavy as a hammer, his rough fingertip reaching toward Liam’s eyebrow. Every alarm in my head went off! I slapped his hand away hard. “Don’t touch my son!” A red mark bloomed on River’s hand. He didn’t get angry. Instead, he raised an eyebrow with an ambiguous smile. “Such a strong reaction? Afraid I’ll eat the kid?” I forced myself to stay calm. “This was… from when he was little! Right, Liam? He fell when he was two!” I blinked frantically, signaling him. Liam, who’d inherited his father’s intelligence, nodded calmly. “Yeah, Mom said I fell.” River withdrew his hand and tucked it in his pocket, his gaze glued to Liam’s face, scoffing. “Quite the technical fall-looks exactly like my natural one.” I laughed dryly. “It’s just fate, fate…” Madison quickly intervened. “Okay, enough about eyebrows! Let’s go!” I made an excuse about getting something and shoved Liam at Madison. “You two go to the car first!” River watched the little figure being led away. That swagger in his walk was a carbon copy of his own. He laughed softly. “What’s the kid’s name?” I was guarded. “Liam.” River gave me a disdainful look. “Like your ex-husband. No taste.” After that insult, he finally turned to follow Madison. I leaned against the doorframe, exhaling deeply. My legs were so weak I could barely stand. Just now, I really thought he was going to drag Liam off for a DNA test. But the crisis wasn’t over. The car ride ahead would be even more terrifying. One big, one small, sitting side by side-the atmosphere eerily harmonious. Liam suddenly pointed at River’s forearm. “Did your gunshot wound heal?” My hand jerked and I nearly drove into a ditch. River’s eyes flashed with appreciation. “How do you know?” That’s a special forces soldier’s badge of honor-why are you asking about everything! River didn’t seem angry though. He glanced down at his arm, asking casually. “How do you know it’s a gunshot wound?” “I saw it on TV.” Liam looked serious. “Only bullet wounds leave this kind of round scar.” River smiled. “Good observation skills.” He pulled out a mint and offered it. Liam shook his head. “Mom says don’t take things from strangers, especially ones who look like bad guys.” I choked on my own saliva. River’s face darkened, yet he remained patient. “I’m related to your mom’s roommate. You should call me…” Liam innocently finished the sentence. “Uncle?” Madison burst out laughing. “Told you you’re old!” A vein bulged at River’s temple as he gritted his teeth and pinched Liam’s cheek. “Fine.” The gesture looked fierce, but the pressure was gentle as a tickle. If you ignored the complicated history, they really did look like father and son. At the studio. Madison pushed River into the fitting room. “Chloe, go! You’re the measurement expert!” The door closed, leaving just him and me in the cramped space. Cool fragrance mixed with testosterone. River spread his arms in front of the mirror, watching my trembling form with amusement. “Miss Sullivan, let’s begin. I don’t like tight clothes-they’re constricting.” I took a deep breath and approached with the measuring tape. When measuring his shoulders, I had to press against his chest. Through the thin shirt, I could feel the hard planes of his pectorals and his powerful heartbeat. “Chloe.” He suddenly spoke my name. Warm breath washed over the top of my head, carrying a tingling sensation. “Don’t you feel like this position…” “Is a bit like five years ago?”

Chloe POV I jerked my head up, crashing right into his bottomless dark eyes. In that instant, I felt transported back to that stormy night five years ago. “Don’t understand?” River chuckled softly, not moving, letting me crouch at his feet. My line of sight directly faced his straight legs and… that supposedly dysfunctional area. My face exploded in heat as I grabbed the measuring tape and stood up-too quickly. My vision went black and I fell straight into a hard embrace. His arm tightened around my waist, a scorching palm locking me in place. “Throwing yourself at me?” The teasing voice exploded above my head. My palm pressed against his taut abs-even through the shirt I could feel the explosive power. This was a broken man? “Let go!” I struggled like a frightened rabbit. River only tightened his grip, forcing me closer until our noses nearly touched, his presence suffocating. “Chloe, your hands kept shaking when measuring my waist. Afraid of me? Or reminiscing?” He was testing me! I closed my eyes and deflected. “I have trauma! My ex used to hold me like this too, then hit me!” The air froze. River’s large hand stiffened for a moment, his expression shifting from playful to shocked, finally settling on disgust. “Hit you? That waste even beat women?” He released me, straightening my wrinkled shirt, his tone cold. “Terrible taste. That kind of garbage should be buried at sea.” I silently lit a candle for the nonexistent man while verbally agreeing. “Yes,you’re absolutely right. I’ve got the measurements, I’ll go select fabric!” I fled the fitting room to find Madison pressed against the door grinning. Just as she opened her mouth to ask, the main door suddenly slammed open. Liam, playing with blocks in the corner, jumped in fright. Three thugs in garish shirts swaggered in. The leader had bleached yellow hair, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes sweeping the shop shamelessly before landing on me. “Miss Sullivan, business looks good.” The thug blew a smoke ring, looking completely shameless. “So? How about that protection fee we discussed last time?” My heart sank. These were local punks who’d been harassing businesses on this street. We’d called the police before, but since they never got physical, just came to be annoying every day, the cops couldn’t do anything. “I told you, we don’t need protection.” I pulled Liam behind me, face cold. “Please leave, or I’m calling the police.” “Police?” The thug sneered, stepping forward and reaching out to shove me. “Don’t want to cooperate, huh? Believe me, I’ll smash this dump today!” That dirty hand never reached my shoulder-a long, powerful hand shot out and caught his wrist mid-air. “Crack.” A crisp snap of bone. The thug let out a pig-like squeal, his whole body instantly contorting like a shrimp. River had appeared at my side without warning. One hand in his pocket, the other casually gripping the thug’s wrist-it looked effortless. But the expression on his face was cold, like something that had crawled straight out of hell. “Smash the shop?” He tilted his head, looking at the yellow-haired thug breaking out in cold sweat with detached eyes. His voice wasn’t loud, but it made everyone present shiver. “Who gave you the balls to touch my wo-my niece’s shop?” I stared blankly at his profile. In that moment, his tall frame blocked everything in front of me. That damned sense of security washed over me again. I was falling for him again. But…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “371566”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance