Category: English

Before my father died, he arranged a marriage for me. The groom-to-be was Adrian Blackwood, the most untouchable tycoon in the city. Before I married him, I set three rules for myself: One: No emotions, only dividends. Two: He could do his thing, and I would do mine. Three: If his one true love ever showed up, I would step aside immediately—for double the alimony. Adrian was perfectly satisfied with my pragmatism. Until the day a seventeen-year-old boy with a striking resemblance to him knocked on our villa door and calmly announced, “Ma’am, I’m Adrian Blackwood’s son. He’s been raising me in secret.” 1 I froze for a solid two seconds. My first thought was, Adrian is better at keeping secrets than I thought. My second thought was to mentally review our prenuptial agreement. What was rule number three again? Oh, right. If his one true love ever shows up, I step aside for double the alimony. I immediately stepped aside, my tone all business. “Come in. He’s not home from work yet. Have a seat. What would you like to drink?” The boy was clearly not expecting this reaction. He hesitated. “You’re… not angry?” Angry? What was there to be angry about? I had been practically praying for Adrian to have an affair. Then he could throw a few million in alimony my way, and I could finally start my life as a wealthy divorcée. I watched him change his shoes. At seventeen, he already had the frame of an adult. His features were Adrian’s, but his aura was much cleaner, less severe. “What’s your name?” “Cole.” I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to him. “Cole,” I said, my voice reassuring, “your father and I have a contract marriage. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. I have no right to be angry about his private life.” The boy clutched the water bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He didn’t say anything. I sat down on the armchair across from him, the coffee table a safe distance between us. The resemblance was uncanny. It took me back three years, to my father on his deathbed, gripping Adrian’s hand and entrusting me to him. The Blackwood family owed my father a life, and Adrian repaid that debt with this marriage. The night before we registered our marriage, he handed me a prenup. I skimmed it, then held up three fingers. “I’d like to add three clauses.” “One: No emotions, only dividends.” “Two: You do your thing, I’ll do mine.” “Three: The day your true love comes knocking, I’ll step aside immediately for double the alimony.” He signed it without a moment’s hesitation. “Done.” We never spoke a single word of love. After the wedding, we lived in separate rooms, ate our meals separately. He was out of the country twenty days a month, and in the remaining ten, we saw each other less than he saw his secretary. Three years ago, at the courthouse, he walked in ahead of me, signed the papers, and got the stamp. He never once looked back. It didn’t feel like a wedding. It felt like the closing of a business deal. 2 Adrian came home while I was curled up on the sofa watching a reality show. His footsteps paused beside the couch. I turned the volume up a notch and kept watching. He didn’t go upstairs. I glanced over. He was just standing there, his gaze heavy on me. “Who did you see today?” I paused the TV and sat up straight. “Mr. Blackwood, your sources are impressive. A rather handsome young man came by. Said he was your son. You’ve done a remarkable job keeping him a secret.” The air went still. His face was a blank mask. But he didn’t deny it. “I’ll handle this.” I nodded and stood up. As I passed him, I hesitated. “Right. If you need me to cooperate with the divorce proceedings, just let me know.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to add, “You do remember the clause about double the alimony, don’t you?” He looked down at me, his eyes dark and intense. I waited a few seconds, the atmosphere growing stranger by the moment, then turned and fled upstairs. I leaned against the closed door, staring up at the ceiling light. All this time, while he was supposedly busy with business trips, I thought our marriage was a blank slate. Turns out, he already had a true love and an heir stashed away somewhere. I pulled out my phone and opened my banking app. The initial transfer he’d made before our marriage was sitting right there in my account details. Ten million. Double that would be twenty million. He waited until his son was seventeen to reveal him. That had to be some form of fraud, right? So, asking for an extra five million wouldn’t be unreasonable, would it? 3 At one-thirty in the morning, I was still tossing and turning. After much hesitation, I opened my contacts and found the name “Mr. Anderson.” He was the lawyer I’d added three years ago when we signed the prenup. His profile picture was a golden retriever, and his posts were only visible for three days. I opened our chat. Type. Delete. Type. Delete. Finally, I sent a single message: [Mr. Anderson, I have a question. If you’re busy, feel free to ignore this.] He replied instantly: [Go ahead.] Quite the dedicated professional. I chose my words carefully. [Let’s say, hypothetically, I have a friend whose husband had a child before they got married and never told her.] [Mm-hmm.] [That would be considered concealment of a major fact, right? The verbal agreement for double alimony in case of an affair—could that apply here?] [This friend of yours, what were the specific terms of her agreement?] I stared at the screen. I couldn’t say it was me. I couldn’t be too specific. The name “Mrs. Blackwood” whispered in the city’s legal circles would be enough to socially kill me ten times over. I typed: [My friend didn’t have a written prenup. Her husband verbally promised to leave with nothing if he cheated.] Even as I sent it, I knew it sounded fake. The “typing…” indicator appeared and stayed for a long time. [Your friend is quite… trusting.] I was speechless. [Mr. Anderson, the point isn’t her trust issues.] [The point is what she can get now.] My fingers hovered over the screen. Twenty million… twenty-five would be even better. Adrian’s handsome face couldn’t pay the bills, but money could. [Alimony. Preferably double.] [Is there any proof that the husband acknowledged the child?] I thought of Cole’s face. I thought of Adrian saying, “His name is Cole. I’ll handle this.” He hadn’t denied it. Did that count as an admission? I typed: [She said her husband didn’t deny it. Does that count?] [A verbal admission counts, but it’s better to have a recording, chat logs, or a witness.] [A witness… do I count?] I dropped my phone onto the bed. Five seconds later, the screen lit up again. Mr. Anderson: [Mrs. Blackwood, I can’t take on a case involving the Blackwood family, but I can recommend a colleague who specializes in family law.] … I had to laugh at my own stupidity. 4 While I was busy contacting lawyers and looking into divorce proceedings over the next couple of days, Cole showed up again. I was decanting a bottle of red wine at the dining table when I heard a noise from the entryway. Adrian walked in first, with the boy half a step behind him. Adrian pulled out a chair. “Cole is transferring to a school here. He’ll be staying with us until the paperwork is finalized.” Well, well. Bringing the illegitimate son home for all to see. The true love can’t be far behind, demanding her rightful place, can she? Divorce. It was a must. As I mentally calculated the child support, I called out to the kitchen, “Anna, two extra dishes tonight, please.” A six-course meal with soup was served. I placed a piece of sweet and sour pork into the twenty-five-million-dollar—I mean, Cole’s—bowl. “Have you found a school yet?” I asked considerately. He looked down. “Yes.” “What grade?” “Eleventh.” “Are you keeping up with your studies?” His chopsticks paused. “It’s fine.” I added some vegetables to his bowl. “It’s getting cold. There are extra blankets in the guest room closet.” He didn’t respond or look up, his entire focus on the rice in his bowl. Adrian was silent too. A pair of clams, father and son. After dinner, as the dishes were being cleared, I went to the kitchen for some fruit. I sliced an orange with practiced precision, arranging the segments symmetrically on a plate. Footsteps stopped behind me. “Aren’t you going to ask about my situation? Don’t you care that he’s been fooling around outside?” Cole’s voice was a little hoarse. I arranged the eight orange slices on a white porcelain plate. “That’s between you two. I’m only here to cooperate with your father’s arrangements.” “…You really don’t care at all?” I turned off the tap and dried my hands on a towel, my smile flawless. “Kid, we have a contract marriage.” I hung the towel back on the rack, my smile enigmatic. “Caring too much would be a breach of contract.” He didn’t say anything else, his eyes fixed on my face as if searching for something. But as I turned to leave with the fruit platter, I saw Adrian standing in the kitchen doorway. 5 After that day, Adrian started coming home less and less. When the housekeeper asked how many place settings to prepare, I told her two. With the master of the house absent, no one found it odd that the wife and the illegitimate son were coexisting peacefully. On Friday afternoon, a file arrived from the lawyer I’d contacted, Ms. Chen. [Mrs. Blackwood, here is the initial draft of the evidence list for the divorce proceedings. Please review it.] I opened it. Clause seven: [The husband concealed the existence of a child born out of wedlock, constituting a major fault.] “Ma’am.” At the sound of Cole’s voice, I discreetly closed the file. He was standing at the entrance to the patio, his eyes fixed on me. “What were you looking at?” I put my phone face down. “Work stuff.” He didn’t move. “You’re lying. Adrian has been supporting you ever since you got married. You’ve never had a job. Ma’am, are you… are you divorcing him because of me? You can’t divorce him.” “Why not?” I asked. His back was to me, his voice low. “Because…” This little brat! Leaving me hanging! He turned and walked away without finishing his sentence. The next day, he was up early. I sat on the sofa, flipping through my notes. He watched me. I went to get a glass of water. He followed me to the kitchen doorway. I came back. He sat back down. Finally, I snapped my laptop shut. “Cole, is there something wrong with you?” He didn’t deny it, just repeated yesterday’s line: “You can’t divorce him.” I stared at him. “Isn’t that the whole point of you showing up? To let me know he cheated and to ruin our marriage?” He pursed his lips. “Well, yes, but…” “Then why are you trying to stop me?” He looked down, silent again. I got up and went into the study, shutting the door with a firm click, leaving him outside. Five minutes later, a piece of paper was slipped under the door. It was folded in half, torn from a notebook. The handwriting was heavy, piercing the paper in two places. 6 [I am not his son. You don’t need to divorce him.] [If you stay with the Blackwoods, at least you’ll have money. My mother was the same way. She refused to go back to them, and later, when she got sick, there was no money for treatment. I just don’t like Adrian, but I don’t want to hurt you.] I stood there for a long time, clutching the piece of paper. I opened the door. He was still standing in the hallway. “Your mother…” “She thought she could raise me without a title, without money, without disturbing his marriage. Later, when she got sick and had no money for treatment, she said it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” When Adrian came home, I called out to him. “Adrian.” He stopped. “That boy’s mother.” There was no moon outside. He stood in the sliver of light from the doorway, his silhouette blurred. “What really happened?” “Cole is my father’s son. My father only found out about him shortly before he died, so there was nothing left for him in the will. But his mother contacted mine before she passed. She said my father didn’t know, and she didn’t plan on telling him. She was just afraid she wouldn’t make it and the boy would be left alone.” I was taken aback. Adrian’s father had died in a car accident three years ago. His voice was low and flat. “His mother was my father’s mistress. The Blackwood family wouldn’t acknowledge her.” I leaned against the headboard. “So all these years…” “I tried to give them money, but his mother refused it. It wasn’t until she got very sick that she finally accepted.” He paused. “Before she died, she had someone bring the boy to me, with a message.” “What was the message?” He looked up, his gaze meeting mine across the half-open door. “Don’t let the boy go back to the Blackwood family.” 7 I didn’t say anything. Although Adrian rarely took me to the Blackwood estate, I knew it was a place that chewed people up and spat them out. He stood in the shadows, his expression unreadable. “My mother tried to help them once. But…” “When my grandmother found out, she used some flimsy excuse to make my mother kneel in front of everyone at a banquet. She knelt for a whole night. My father was at the card table that night. He never even glanced her way.” Adrian’s mother and my mother had been good friends. I vaguely remembered my parents discussing it at the dinner table when I was a child, sighing over her fate. Suddenly, I understood why Adrian had done what he did. He didn’t want Cole to suffer the same way he had. He lowered his eyes. “Cole doesn’t know any of this. He only knows that I’m his half-brother. He thinks I’m hiding him away, afraid he’ll come back and fight for the inheritance.” My mouth fell open. Blinded by the prospect of a massive alimony payment, I had overlooked a crucial detail. Adrian was twenty-seven. Cole was seventeen. If Cole were Adrian’s son, Adrian would have had to have a child at the age of ten. “So… Cole isn’t your son.” He looked at me. It wasn’t an accusation, just a calm, steady gaze. But there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You really thought he was my son?” I didn’t deny it. He was silent for a couple of seconds, then sighed. “Catherine, what goes on in that head of yours?” I closed my eyes, mourning my lost twenty-five million. “Really… just incredible.” That night, after we had both retreated to our separate rooms, I opened my phone. The chat with Ms. Chen was still open to her last message: [Mrs. Blackwood, the lawsuit materials can be submitted next week.] I typed four words. [Let’s put it on hold.] After sending the message, I buried my face in my pillow. Twenty-five million, gone. I could cry.

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I was in the middle of a remote translation for a major Italian client when the call came through. HR. “Audrey, you’re being laid off. Come in and get your paperwork now.” Listening to the sterile, impersonal voice on the phone, then looking back at the expectant client on my screen, I had to laugh. Leaning into my headset, I spoke in flawless Italian. “My apologies, but our session ends here. The company you’re partnering with just fired me.” The video conference exploded into chaos. 1 The HR manager’s voice, cold and sterile, slithered through the line like a venomous snake coiling in my ear. Each word was a sharp, brutal blow, as if she were disposing of a piece of expired trash. On my computer screen, Mr. Rossi, the CEO of the Italian luxury brand, was watching me with a furrowed brow. Beneath his salt-and-pepper eyebrows, his eyes were sharp and focused, waiting for me to translate the crucial final clauses of their contract. Behind him, his entire executive team—a dozen European faces in their little digital squares—formed a silent, high-stakes tableau. This was a multi-million dollar deal, and the negotiations had reached their absolute peak. And I, Audrey Hale, the lead interpreter for the project, had just been told I was fired. At the eleventh hour. How utterly absurd. How laughable. A cold, sharp laugh bubbled up from my chest, shattering the initial shock and disbelief. I didn’t spare a glance for my boss, Mr. Peterson, whose face I could see in my peripheral vision cycling through shades of crimson and ghostly white. Nor did I pay any mind to the HR manager still barking orders into my phone. I simply adjusted the thin metal frames of my glasses, repositioned my headset, and leaned closer to the microphone. My gaze was fixed on the camera, as if I could stare right through the screen and into Mr. Rossi’s eyes. Then, in the clearest, most impeccable Roman accent, I calmly delivered the bombshell I’d been preparing my whole life for. “Scusate, la traduzione di oggi finisce qui, perché l’azienda con cui collaborate mi ha appena licenziato.” (My apologies, but our session ends here. The company you’re partnering with just fired me.) Silence. For a full half-second, the screen was dead quiet. Then, Mr. Rossi’s deep blue eyes shot wide, his focus instantly replaced by sheer disbelief. The executives behind him erupted into a cacophony of urgent Italian. “Cosa sta succedendo?” (What’s happening?) “L’hanno licenziata? Adesso?” (They fired her? Now?) In the corner of my screen, Peterson’s face had morphed into a grotesque shade of purple. He waved his hands frantically at the camera, his broken English tumbling out in a panic. “No, no, Mr. Rossi! Is… is technical problem! Signal is not good!” A pathetic excuse from a clumsy executioner. On the phone, the HR manager finally grasped the situation. “Audrey! Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” Oh, I knew. I had never been more clear-headed in my life. Ignoring the chaos, I addressed Mr. Rossi one last time, my voice sincere. “Mi dispiace sinceramente per l’inconveniente, Signor Rossi. È stato un onore lavorare con lei.” (I am truly sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Rossi. It has been an honor to work with you.) Then, with a single, deliberate tap on my trackpad, I clicked “Leave Meeting.” The world went silent. I tossed my headset on the desk and unplugged my phone. The icon for our company’s internal chat app was flashing manically, the notification count climbing past 99. I glanced at it. Peterson was frantically tagging everyone in the group chat, his message in bold red letters. “Regarding Audrey Hale, no one is to discuss this outside the company! If I hear one word, there will be consequences!” How amusing. As if silencing everyone could make it un-happen. Private messages from my colleagues started popping up like a virus. “Audrey, are you okay? Peterson is losing his mind!” “Oh my God, Audrey, you’re a legend! What the hell happened?” I didn’t reply to any of them. I stood up, walked to the window, and took a deep breath of the city’s afternoon air, thick with the scent of exhaust fumes. The suffocating feeling of betrayal and humiliation finally began to loosen its grip on my chest. There was no confusion, no hesitation. I turned back to my desk and calmly began to pack my personal belongings. The small succulent on my desk, the keyboard I’d used for three years, the well-worn Italian dictionary. Each item I packed felt like shedding a piece of my old, stifled life. By the time I taped the last box shut, my heart was a placid lake. This war… was just getting started. 2 Showing up at the office the next day to sign my severance papers was like walking into my own public execution. Colleagues who had once greeted me with a cheerful “Hey, Audrey!” now avoided my gaze, skirting around me like I was the plague. Their eyes were a mixture of pity, curiosity, and, most of all, fear. Fear of Peterson’s invisible wrath. The air in the HR office was cold enough to freeze. The manager who had screamed at me over the phone now eyed me like a criminal, slamming a thick stack of exit documents onto the desk. “Sign them. Then get out.” Her voice dripped with undisguised contempt, as if my very presence was contaminating the air. I didn’t move. I just calmly flipped through the pages. Under the “Reason for Termination” section, a few words were typed in stark black ink: Gross violation of company policy and leakage of confidential business information. What a convenient, career-ending accusation. They were trying to nail me to the industry’s cross, to ensure I would never work again. “This isn’t true,” I said, looking up at her. My voice was quiet but firm. She scoffed, crossing her arms. “What’s true is what the company says is true. Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Audrey.” Just then, the office door swung open. Jessica strutted in on four-inch stilettos, a file folder clutched in her hands and a smug, triumphant smirk on her face. She feigned surprise when she saw me, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Audrey, you’re still here? I thought you’d be gone by yesterday.” She drew out my name with a sickeningly sweet, mocking tone. “Mr. Peterson asked me to collect all the files for the Rossi project. I’ll be taking over from now on.” She shot me a provocative glance from the corner of her eye. The HR manager’s demeanor instantly changed, her face melting into a fawning smile. “Of course, Jessica. It’s all right here. Mr. Peterson already gave me the heads-up.” Jessica. Peterson’s distant cousin, a so-called “expat” who’d landed the job through connections and whose Italian sounded like she’d learned it on a construction site. She had been green with envy ever since I was assigned the Rossi account. And now, she had gotten her way. Watching her preen, a cold fury settled in my gut. She leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper only I could hear. “Don’t blame me, Audrey. Blame yourself for being in the way. You think talent matters here? It’s all about who you know.” I ignored her taunt. I picked up the pen and signed my name on the termination papers. When I was done, I dropped the pen on the desk with a sharp clatter. Then I stood up and looked Jessica dead in the eye. “You can’t take what’s mine. And even if you manage to grab it, you won’t be able to hold on to it.” Without another word, I turned and walked out of that suffocating office. Behind me, I could hear Jessica’s indignant sputtering and the HR manager’s hushed whispers. As I walked down the long, empty hallway, I could feel eyes on me from every direction. I knew the rumors about me had already spread like wildfire. In their version of the story, I was a corporate spy who had tried to steal company secrets. And it was all because Peterson needed to make room for his family, and he needed a scapegoat for his own incompetence. I was the sacrifice. Stepping out of the building, I was blinded by the harsh afternoon sun. I had been cast out by my entire world. No. Just this rotten, filthy corner of it. I pulled out my phone and went through my contacts. One by one, I blocked every familiar name from the company. As of today, none of it had anything to do with me anymore. 3 Back in my rented apartment, I collapsed onto the sofa. The room was silent, save for the distant hum of traffic from the street below. The quiet felt suffocating, and for the first time, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. I’d lost my job, my reputation was in tatters, and my career felt like it had been sentenced to death with a single phone call. I opened my laptop. The cursor blinked on a blank resume template, taunting me. I couldn’t type a single word. “Top-Tier Italian Interpreter.” It felt like a joke. What company would hire someone publicly branded a traitor by their last employer? A tide of despair rose, threatening to pull me under. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. Get it together, Audrey. You did nothing wrong. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sharp ring of my phone. It was an unknown number with a +39 country code. Italy. My heart hammered against my ribs. An impossible thought flickered in my mind. I took a deep breath and answered. “Pronto?” (Hello?) A polite, professional male voice replied in perfect Italian. “Good morning, am I speaking with Ms. Audrey Hale? This is Marco, Mr. Rossi’s personal assistant.” It was them. I fought to keep my voice steady. “Yes, this is she. How can I help you?” Marco’s tone was warm and sincere. “Ms. Hale, first, on behalf of Mr. Rossi, I would like to apologize for the unexpected interruption to yesterday’s meeting. That was certainly not our intention.” He continued, “Second, Mr. Rossi was incredibly impressed with your professionalism and skill. He considers you one of the finest interpreters he has ever worked with.” His words were a balm to my wounded spirit. In a world that had turned against me, this validation from a client felt like a lifeline. “Thank you,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “I appreciate you saying that, and please extend my thanks to Mr. Rossi.” “Mr. Rossi is very keen to understand what happened yesterday,” Marco went on. “He believes a professional of your caliber would not disrupt such an important meeting without a very good reason. He was hoping to hear your side of the story directly and would like your personal contact information for future correspondence.” This was it. A chance to clear my name. I could have embellished, painting Peterson and Jessica as the villains they were, begging for Mr. Rossi’s sympathy. But I didn’t. My pride, my professionalism, wouldn’t allow it. I simply stated the facts, my voice even and objective. “During the meeting, I received a call from my company’s human resources department informing me that I was being terminated, effective immediately. I was instructed to cease all work and begin the exit process. I was as surprised as you were. The company did not provide a specific reason.” I delivered the lines without a trace of emotion, as if I were translating a legal document. There was a brief silence on the other end. I could only imagine the surprise Marco—and perhaps Mr. Rossi himself—felt at my composure. “I understand, Ms. Hale,” Marco said, a new note of respect in his voice. “Thank you for your candor. We will be in touch soon. Please take care.” After we hung up, the tension finally drained from my body. A tiny flame of hope flickered to life in the wreckage of my career. Mr. Rossi’s offer was more than just a potential job; it was the ultimate endorsement of my worth. It was proof that true talent could not be buried by lies or suppressed by petty office politics. I sat back down at my computer and deleted the blank resume. My battlefield was no longer on job boards.

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My husband Steve works in America. For ten years after our marriage, we’ve maintained a long-distance relationship across borders. I’ve been rejected for a green card ten times. On the tenth attempt, the visa officer laid it out for me directly: “Miss! Your so-called husband is already married! His wife obtained a green card ten years ago! Your marriage certificate is fake!” With that, he turned his computer screen to show me the documentation. In Steve’s spouse column, the name clearly displayed was his brother’s wife—Mila. I couldn’t believe it. I immediately called Steve. He responded casually over the phone: “Our marriage certificate is indeed fake!” “I did get a marriage certificate for Mila. That’s the only way her son David could come study in America. My brother died—I have a duty to take care of his wife and child!” “Once David turns eighteen and we’re sure he can stay in America, then we’ll get married.” I didn’t lose my temper. I simply said calmly: “No need. I’m not interested in someone else’s husband.” Then I called my assistant: “Notify Steve’s company—I want him fired. And cancel his credit card!”

Ten years ago, Steve’s offer to work in America was snatched away by someone else. I couldn’t bear to see him depressed, so I secretly created an exclusive overseas assignment plan just for him. I not only helped him connect with the top American universities, but invested ten million to secure a professor position. I paved his way with money at every turn, helping him build a world-class research team and become America’s youngest external consultant. Due to visa issues, I could only stay in this country three months each year before I had to leave. For ten years, I traveled back and forth, exhausted. Every year I prepared the materials needed for a marriage-based green card well in advance. I reviewed every detail meticulously before submitting, but was rejected every single time. Steve always comforted me: “America’s marriage green card review process is extremely strict, especially when the spouse is someone in a high-level technical position like me. Getting rejected is normal—we’ll try again next year.” I always thought it was just my bad luck. Now I finally know—it was my pillow partner who fabricated everything. I had even asked Mila before about how she got her green card, how she could stay here long-term with her child. Every time, Mila would respond with a half-smile: “Probably just my good luck?” So that’s how it was… To say I wasn’t heartbroken would be impossible. Just after I hung up with my assistant, Steve’s call came through. I wanted to hear what else he had to say, so I answered. The moment I picked up, I heard his scolding voice: “Mila just found out you called to question me, and she’s so upset she’s crying. She says she wants to take David and withdraw from school to return home tonight. You’ve scared David to tears.” Over the phone, I could indeed hear Mila’s sobbing and David’s angry crying: “Why do we have to leave?! I’m not going! This is my home! I won’t let that bad woman come here!” “Marta, if you’re going to blame someone, blame me. Don’t fight with Steve…” Steve said to David and Mila in a gentle voice: “As long as I’m here, no one can drive you away.” “I’ll have her apologize to you now, okay? Marta, apologize to them.” I hung up directly. I tore up all the visa documents and turned toward home. This green card—I don’t care about it anymore. I hadn’t walked far when Steve’s car pulled up in front of me. He rolled down the window and said: “I knew you were angry. Fine, you don’t have to apologize anymore. Really, why are you getting jealous over a widow and her child?” “I came specially to pick you up. Get in.” I didn’t bother saying anything and walked straight to the passenger side. I opened the door to find Mila there. She raised her eyebrows and said apologetically: “Sorry, Marta. I’m not feeling well today, so I took the passenger seat. You can sit in back.” Steve looked at me nervously, opening his mouth to defend Mila. After all, on any other day, I would have frowned and insisted on getting my rightful place in the passenger seat as the lady of the house. But today, I said nothing and got in the back seat. The visa center was eighteen kilometers from downtown—hard to catch a ride. If he was willing to pick me up, I’d just treat him as a free driver. Steve seemed surprised. His lips moved as he turned to say something to me. Mila interrupted: “Steve, the car behind us is honking. Let’s go.” I closed my eyes. I don’t know how long passed before the car stopped. When I opened my eyes, we were parked outside a Michelin restaurant. Seeing me frown, Steve smiled and said: “Mila knows you’re upset about the green card situation. She specially wants to treat you to dinner and apologize.” I said coldly: “Not necessary. I want to go home.” But Steve pulled me out with a laugh. “Be good. Mila and I will explain the marriage certificate situation to you properly.” I sat down expressionless. The whole evening I just watched the three of them interact intimately. I lost patience and said: “If you have something to say, say it now.” Steve said unhurriedly: “Let me add some red wine first.” Right after ordering, David suddenly knocked over the wine. Mila cried out in alarm. Steve quickly said to me: “Marta, I’ll take David to the restroom to wipe off his clothes. Just wait for me.” Mila shot me a triumphant look, then pulled Steve away. But I waited a full hour without seeing any sign of them. Instead, the restaurant manager came over and said politely: “Miss, we’re closed now. Please settle your bill—that’s $10,000 total.” I froze. The next second, Steve sent me a message: “You insist on making things difficult for Mila and the child and refuse to apologize simply because I’ve spoiled you too much.” “Now I’ve frozen your card!”

Seeing me grip my phone in silence, the manager raised his voice: “Miss! Please settle your bill!” Whispered laughter came from customers around me. “Coming here to eat when she has no money.” Countless mocking gazes fell on me like a resounding slap in the face. My phone kept buzzing with messages: “Marta, apologize to Mila and admit you were wrong! Promise you’ll never bring this up again. Otherwise, you’ll be detained in the restaurant or sent to jail.” I read his messages expressionlessly. Then I looked up and said in fluent English: “Go call your store manager. Tell them Miss Marta is here.” The manager didn’t understand what this meant, but his instincts told him he needed to do as I said. After the manager left, I took out that bank card from my wallet, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash. Steve really seemed to think I was just some appendage who could only depend on him. But he didn’t know that I had long ago inherited my parents’ estate, with business holdings spanning the globe. I never told him any of this because when my parents died, they left a will stating that if I wanted to marry, I had to conceal my identity from my partner. If my partner ever learned my true identity, all my assets would be taken by the family foundation, and I could only receive annual dividends. I knew they did this to prevent me from being taken advantage of. I once thought Steve was different. He was ambitious and hardworking, stayed on at the university as a teacher based on his excellent academic record, and even got an opportunity to study abroad on a government scholarship. But when the list came out, that slot went to someone with connections. Steve was devastated and locked himself in his study in despair. I couldn’t bear it, so I secretly had my assistant donate a building to a prestigious American university in exchange for a joint training opportunity and a visiting professor position. When Steve learned the news, he wept with joy, holding me and choking out: “Marta, I’ll work hard out there. Once I make something of myself, I’ll bring you here to live permanently.” Actually, I didn’t care about permanent residency status. What I cared about was not wanting to only be reunited with him for three short months each year. At this thought, a self-mocking smile appeared on my lips. Turns out Steve never planned on letting me stay here with him long-term. He had already given his legal status to Mila. No wonder every time I came back, I’d see things in our American home that didn’t belong to me. No wonder every time, even before the three months were up, Steve would pack my luggage and tell me to go back early. Turns out during the nine months I wasn’t there, the house I had carefully decorated had another lady of the house. Soon the store manager came in. As soon as he saw me, he bowed in greeting. Then he said to the restaurant manager: “Miss Marta is our BOSS. Her bill doesn’t need to be—” I raised my hand to interrupt: “Why shouldn’t it be settled?” I tapped the security camera above my head lightly and said: “Intentional dine-and-dash. You should call the police immediately. According to local regulations, the debt should be recovered tenfold.” Steve, you got it backwards. You’ve been deceiving me without any qualms all along simply because you’ve been relying on my love for you. Now that my love is gone, let’s see what becomes of you.

I returned home. The moment I pushed open the door, I saw an incredibly heartwarming scene. David sat in Steve’s arms, coaxing him to tell a story. Mila held a fruit plate, occasionally feeding Steve a grape. Her fingers brushed Steve’s lips, and Mila’s face flushed. But my eyes were fixed on what Mila was wearing—matching couple’s pajamas nearly identical to Steve’s. I had once bought these and begged Steve to wear them with me. He was dismissive: “Marta, that’s too childish.” When I came back the next year, those pajamas were gone. I always thought Steve had thrown them away. I never imagined… they were already being worn by someone else. I kicked the door open, startling the three people in the room. Mila cried out and hid helplessly behind Steve. Steve looked briefly surprised, then asked with an ugly expression: “How… how did you get back here?” I laughed coldly: “My own home—why can’t I come back?” Steve was speechless. Just as he was about to say something, David in his arms already rushed over like a little cannonball. He rammed into my lower abdomen. I slammed hard into the table corner, a piercing pain shooting through my lower back. I stumbled and fell to the floor. “It’s all your fault! Every time you come, Mom and I have to leave home!” “You bad woman! Don’t you have your own home?! Why do you have to take over ours?!” Steve pulled David back awkwardly, his face stern: “Kids say the darndest things. It would be petty of you to argue with a child.” I gritted my teeth and barely managed to stand: “Fine. I won’t argue with a child.” Before a satisfied smile could appear on his face, I had already strode forward and slapped Mila across the face. “It’s the mother’s fault if the child isn’t taught properly. Mila! You deserved that!” But my wrist was gripped tightly. The next second, a burning pain spread across my cheek. I fell to the floor, looking up at Steve with his raised hand. He said to me coldly: “Are you done yet, Marta?! Looks like today’s lesson wasn’t enough for you!” As if suddenly remembering something, his face darkened: “Today’s bill was $10,000, and you don’t have a cent on you! How did you pay?!” Before I could speak, Mila said tearfully: “Marta, even if you’re angry with us, you can’t hurt yourself!” “No wonder that manager was smiling at you when we left. Did you… with him…” She covered her mouth with a look of regret. Steve’s anger ignited. He looked at me with an ugly expression: “Marta! To avoid apologizing, you’d rather sell your body?! Is this how you treat me?!” “You’re just… how can you be so cheap!” He pointed a trembling finger toward the door: “Get out! Get out right now!” “Didn’t you want to break up with me? Fine! Let’s break up! Leave now!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and stood up shakily: “Steve, this is my marital home. The ones who should leave are you!” Mila’s eyes were mocking, though her tone remained gentle and patient: “Marta, I know you put in some money initially… but Steve already transferred the property rights of this house to me. Sorry, but you’ll have to leave now.” I jerked my head up to look at Steve: “You transferred our marital home to Mila?!” Mila walked over and took Steve’s arm, saying awkwardly: “Steve was afraid David and I wouldn’t be comfortable living in someone else’s house, so he transferred it to me.” “He said this way I’d have my own home…” Though I was already disappointed, at this moment I still felt my heart being cut by knives: “This is our marital home! The home we decorated together! Steve! How dare you!” He looked at me coldly: “This house is Mila’s now! No amount of talking will change that.” I looked at the two of them for a long moment. Then I laughed lightly and made a phone call. “Send me some people.”

The moment I hung up, Steve let out a scoffing laugh. “Marta, what are you pretending for?” “You don’t have a cent on you. Who could you possibly call?” Mila also sighed softly, her tone gentle: “Marta, I know you can’t accept this right now, but things are what they are.” She lowered her head and stroked David’s hair. “Steve only transferred the house to me because he feels bad for us, a widow and orphan.” I said nothing, just looked at them. Our arguing attracted quite a few neighbors. Someone recognized Steve and called out: “Isn’t that Mr. Steve? Do you need us to call the police?” Mila smiled graciously: “It’s fine. She’s our friend from back home who won’t leave my house…” Hearing this, they all looked at me with disgust. Someone even shouted at me: “Ugly woman! Get out of here!” Steve turned to look at me: “Just leave, Marta. This isn’t something an apology can fix anymore. You… you’re already dirty.” I looked at him expressionlessly: “$350,000.” “What?” “The total price of this house.” I said calmly: “I paid half, so you paid $350,000. Steve, I’ll pay you back that $350,000.” Steve looked at me and lost his patience. “Marta, stop talking nonsense. You probably took out loans for years just to scrape together your own $350,000. Where would you get the money to pay me back?” He pulled out his phone and made a call: “This is Steve. I want to report someone for forging documents to fraudulently obtain a marriage green card.” “Yes, I have evidence. Please come take her away immediately.” Steve hung up and looked at me with a complex expression: “Marta, this could have been resolved with just an apology.” “I already explained to you—once David gets into college and he and Mila are completely settled, I can get our marriage certificate. Why won’t you accept that?” “You were willing to wait ten years. What’s another ten years?” I laughed coldly, but felt only sorrow in my heart. So this is the kind of man I wasted ten years on. Steve took a deep breath and said to me: “As long as… you promise never to mention the thing with Mila and me again, I can explain to immigration that this was all a misunderstanding…” “I know you don’t want to keep traveling back and forth. I can promise that every year during university winter and summer breaks, I’ll go back to spend time with you… Back home, we can still be like husband and wife…” Hearing this, Mila glared at me venomously, though her tone remained soft: “Marta, stop being stubborn. Do you know that if immigration takes you away, you’ll not only face ten years in prison, but also a fine of hundreds of thousands of dollars?” “The restaurant bill could be handled by the manager helping you out, but you can’t possibly handle the prison bill by…” Just as she finished speaking, footsteps sounded outside. Steve’s face darkened, with an undertone of threat: “Marta! This is your last chance! If you agree, I’ll go send them away. If you don’t agree, I can only let them take you…” But I calmly pulled at the corner of my mouth, shook off Steve’s grasping hand, and walked over. Several tall men in black suits and sunglasses walked in. Steve’s jaw clenched. He seemed to finally make up his mind, looked at me deeply once, then pointed at me and said: “It’s her…” Before he could finish, I raised my hand and said: “Smash it. Smash this house to pieces for me!” Mila and Steve’s eyes widened instantly: “You’re crazy!” Before they could say anything else, they were tied up and thrown to the ground. I smiled and walked forward, slapping each of them until my palms went numb: “$350,000, right here.” I casually tossed down a check. “Steve, my things—I’d rather smash them than give them to you.” I said coldly: “Smashing isn’t enough. Bring explosives. I want this filthy marital home razed completely to the ground!” “Marta! You’re insane!” Amid Steve and Mila’s terrified screams, the house was instantly blown to rubble. The massive explosion drew attention. Within minutes, countless vehicles bearing immigration and security bureau insignias blocked the entrance. Steve roared: “I’m Steve! A senior consultant hired by America! This woman is insane! She forged a green card and hired illegal personnel to maliciously threaten me!” “She should be imprisoned for life! Arrest her now!” But I wasn’t afraid at all. I just smiled faintly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “371029”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #狼人Werewolf

“I’m sorry, this flight is overbooked. We’re compensating you two hundred dollars. Please deplane immediately!” The head flight attendant gripped my suitcase tightly. I looked at her coldly, then at the man beside her who had just boarded late, dressed head to toe in designer labels. “Why does he get to board when he’s late, but I have a ticket and I’m being kicked off?” The flight attendant sneered: “Because he’s the heir to Houston’s top medical group! He needs to rush to Houston to see a renowned physician! Could your emergency possibly be more urgent than a life-or-death matter? Now get off!” Several security guards forcibly dragged me off the plane. I watched as the cabin door closed. I laughed bitterly. That heir was dying from a terminal illness. And I was the miracle doctor his entire family had been begging on their knees for three months, who had finally agreed today to fly to Houston to perform his surgery. Since they threw me off the plane, I won’t be doing this surgery anymore.

I dragged my suitcase step by step to the ticket change counter. “I want a refund.” I slapped my passport on the counter, my voice filled with resentment. The counter staff glanced at the screen, looked me up and down, and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, but since you didn’t board for personal reasons, you can only get a two-hundred-dollar refund, not the full amount.” I laughed in fury. “Personal reasons? Your flight was overbooked and you threw me off. That’s my personal reason?” The counter staff’s fingers clattered on the keyboard, her face full of impatience. “Who told you to make a scene in the cabin and disturb the order? You’re lucky to get two hundred dollars back. Don’t be ungrateful!” Just then, the sound of high heels approached. The flight attendant from earlier strutted over arrogantly, holding up her phone that was still recording. “A broke loser desperately trying to extort money from the airline—truly desperate for cash!” “Isn’t she just trying to get more compensation? What’s with the high and mighty act?” The flight attendant crossed her arms, her face full of mockery. “Two hundred not enough? I’ll post this online so everyone can see how pathetic you look. Maybe some kind soul will crowdfund three hundred for you!” I looked at her extremely arrogant face and suppressed my anger. “You’ll regret what you did today.” The flight attendant laughed as if she’d heard a joke, nearly tearing up. “Regret? Coming from someone too poor to afford first class, who can only squeeze into economy?” “Mr. Thompson booked the entire first-class cabin. Even his bodyguards are in business class!” “Who do you think you are to make me regret anything?” She spun around and shouted at the passengers coming and going in the departure hall. “Everyone, come look!” “This is the person who not only refused to cooperate when the flight was overbooked, but tried to extort our airline!” “Now she’s making a scene at the counter, seriously disrupting everyone’s travel. She’s a menace to society!” Surrounding passengers were instantly drawn over, their pointing and gossiping rising in waves. “She’s dressed so well, how can she be so classless?” “Exactly! The airline already compensated her and she’s still making trouble. She must be crazy for money!” “Just get out of here and stop embarrassing yourself!” I ignored the onlookers and turned to the ground staff. “I’ll take the refund.” “But you must write in black and white on the refund form that this is due to your airline’s overbooking and forcible denial of boarding.” I didn’t want the Thompson family tracking me down later and thinking I’d deliberately broken the contract. I absolutely wouldn’t take the blame for this. The flight attendant’s face darkened. She slammed her hand on the counter. “Dream on!” “We gave you a solution and you refused it. Now you want to smear our airline?” “Security! Get this crazy woman out of here!” Several airport security guards immediately rushed over and grabbed my arms from both sides. “Let go!” I struggled desperately, but the security guards wouldn’t listen. They dragged me toward the airport exit. As I passed the flight attendant, I couldn’t help warning her. “You’d better remember my face today, and every word you just said.” “Soon you’ll be on your knees begging me.” But instead of being intimidated, she kicked over my suitcase. My already damaged suitcase completely burst open. The clothes and specially prepared medications inside spilled all over the floor. The flight attendant stepped on a medicine bottle, crushing it. The custom medicine inside instantly turned to powder. This was bad! That was the special medicine I’d prepared specifically for Thompson—one of a kind! Without this medicine, Thompson wouldn’t survive the post-surgery recovery period! “Oops, I’m so sorry.” The flight attendant mocked from behind with fake sympathy. Countless phone cameras instantly focused on me. Various mocking voices completely drowned me out. I was thrown out of the departure hall and landed heavily on the concrete floor. The flight attendant tossed my luggage at me like garbage. “Take your junk and get lost! If you make any more trouble, we’ll call the police and report you for disturbing public order!” Just then, my phone suddenly vibrated frantically. The moment I answered, a barrage of questions came through. “What’s going on with you!” “The plane took off ages ago. I just checked the passenger manifest and your name isn’t on it!” The caller was the Thompson family’s butler, his tone full of reproach and arrogance. “Our family spent so much effort inviting you. We even sent the deposit. And now at this critical moment you’re pulling a diva act?” “Who do you think you are to make our family wait for you?” “If it weren’t for your surgical skills, you think you’d be qualified to treat Mr. Thompson?” I was about to explain it was the airline’s fault, but he wouldn’t listen at all. “I’m warning you, Mr. Thompson’s terminal illness can’t be delayed. If you’re not at Houston First Hospital’s operating room before dark today, don’t blame our family for being ruthless!” “You took our money and dare not do the job? Believe me, I’ll make sure you can’t work in the entire national medical field!” The call was abruptly hung up. The busy tone echoed in my ear.

Holding back my anger, I called him back. The moment he answered, the butler’s impatient voice came through. “What else do you have to say? Just figure out how to charter a plane and get here!” “No need to fly anymore.” My tone was cold. “If you want to know why I didn’t board, go ask the flight attendant on Mr. Thompson’s flight.” With that, I hung up directly. I opened my mobile banking, found the three-million-dollar deposit the Thompson family had sent earlier, and transferred it straight back. The note only had four words: Find someone else. Three million was a fortune to others. To me, it couldn’t buy back the humiliation I suffered today. After doing all this, I blocked all the Thompson family’s contact information, completely cutting ties with them. Looking at the crushed special medicine powder all over the floor, I laughed coldly. Thompson, I won’t be responsible for your life anymore. I hailed a taxi and went straight back to the hospital. The moment I sat down in my office, my phone vibrated frantically again. I pressed answer, and Director Tony’s roar came through. “Mary! What the hell are you doing!” “The Thompson family called me directly! They said you caused trouble at the airport and tried to assault Mr. Thompson!” “Their flight attendant had no choice but to remove you from the plane to protect Mr. Thompson. Not only do you not repent, you dared to refund their deposit?” I froze for a moment, then couldn’t help laughing when I realized. The flight attendant’s ability to twist the truth was truly first-rate. To shirk responsibility for the overbooked flight, she could even fabricate such lies. Even more ridiculous was that the Thompson family believed this nonsense without even checking. “Old Mr. Thompson has spoken. You will immediately get to Houston to apologize to Mr. Thompson and arrange the surgery!” “If you dare not go, I’ll fire you immediately!” I ignored the shouting on the phone, took out a blank sheet of paper, and quickly wrote a resignation letter. Then I went upstairs and pushed open the director’s office door. Director Tony was holding his phone. He froze when he saw me enter. “Smack!” I slammed the resignation letter heavily on his desk. “No need to fire me. I quit.” Director Tony looked at the resignation letter on the desk, eyes wide. “Are you crazy? You think resigning will help you escape?” I placed both hands on the desk, looking down at him from above. “Director, I’ve been too tired lately. I’m planning to take a long vacation out of town.” “My medical license—if the Thompson family can revoke it, let them try. As for them wanting to blacklist me, let them.” With that, I turned and walked away. “Stop!” “Get back here!” Director Tony raged impotently behind me. But I didn’t look back. I walked straight out of the office. Calculating the time, it was about right. Thompson’s terminal illness was being kept alive by my specially prepared medicine. Now that the medicine was gone, it was time for the illness to flare up.

When I got home, I turned off my phone, drew the curtains, and went straight to bed. The next morning, the moment I turned on my phone, it was full of missed calls from the Thompson family. Then a strange number with a local area code called. The moment I answered, a familiar voice came through. “Dr. Mary! Please come back to the airport immediately! Mr. Thompson vomited blood and passed out on the plane!” “The airline has approved a free business class seat for you—a private charter to Houston!” It was yesterday’s flight attendant. I scoffed coldly and exposed her without mercy. “Free business class? Just now weren’t you saying I was poor and only deserved to be thrown off the plane?” “Stop your nonsense!” She panicked, her tone still imperious. “The Thompson family is pressuring the airline right now. If I lose my job because of you, I won’t let you off! Get over here now!” I hung up directly and blocked this number too. But less than half an hour later, there was pounding on my door. “BANG BANG BANG!” Accompanied by a strong, pungent smell. “Mary! You murderous quack! Get out here!” I yanked the door open. A bucket of red paint splashed across my security door, dripping down through the crack. The flight attendant, with several security guards in airline uniforms, blocked my doorway menacingly. The hallway was already filled with neighbors peeking out, their gossiping voices rising. “What a sin. She usually seems like such a quiet girl, but she’s actually a black-hearted doctor.” “Exactly! Someone came to her door and threw paint. She must have done something terrible!” The flight attendant heard the surrounding discussion and became even more pleased. “Everyone look! This is the quack doctor!” “She took the patient’s money but didn’t do her job, deliberately delaying treatment until the patient’s life was in danger!” “Now she’s hiding at home playing dead. This kind of black-hearted doctor should be arrested and sentenced!” Her face was twisted. She’d obviously been pushed to the edge by the Thompson family and wanted to use me as a scapegoat to earn favor. “You think hiding will work? Today you’ll crawl to Houston even if you have to!” I looked at the red paint all over the floor. Just as I was about to call the police, heavy footsteps came from the stairwell. Several bodyguards in black roughly pushed aside the onlooking neighbors. Butler John came upstairs, looking down at me from above. The flight attendant immediately rushed to greet him when she saw him. “Mr. John, look! I found this woman! She definitely won’t delay Mr. Thompson’s treatment!” John didn’t even give her a proper glance. He walked straight to me. “Dr. Mary, finished throwing your tantrum?” He pulled out a check and waved it between his fingers. “Six million. Double the price.” “Come with me right now, and our family can let bygones be bygones.” I didn’t even look at the check. I coldly spat out two words. “Not going.” “Don’t be ungrateful!” John’s face instantly darkened as he dropped all pretense. “You really think you can afford to offend our family?” He leaned in slightly, his voice extremely low but bone-chillingly cold. “If you won’t go willingly, I’ll tie you up and drag you to the operating table today.” “If you won’t operate, our family has ways to make you operate.” “I heard Dr. Mary’s mother is currently staying at Green Care Nursing Home?” My whole body shook. They were despicable enough to track down my mother’s location! “You dare touch my mother and see what happens!” I clenched my teeth, staring at him. “To cure the young master’s illness, our family will do anything.” John sneered continuously, his face full of arrogance. “You’d better be smart and go pack your things now.” “Otherwise, I guarantee your mother will be kicked out of the nursing home today and left homeless on the streets!” The surrounding bodyguards immediately stepped forward and restrained me. The flight attendant gloated from the side. “Did you hear? You dare show off in front of the Thompson family? How audacious!” Looking at their shameless behavior, I suddenly laughed. John frowned, extremely impatient. “What are you laughing at!” “I’m laughing at how stupid you are.” I stopped smiling and looked at the flight attendant who was still gloating. “You think I don’t want to save Thompson?” “Even if I go now, he won’t survive.” John’s face changed dramatically. He grabbed my collar. “What do you mean!”

“Ask her.” “Yesterday at the airport departure hall, she broke my suitcase.” “She also crushed the special medicine I specifically prepared for Thompson.” “Without this medicine to protect his heart meridian, forget surgery—he won’t even survive the anesthesia!” The smile on the flight attendant’s face instantly froze. “Stop slandering me!” “You deliberately spilled your things yourself, and now you want to blame me?” “Butler John, don’t listen to this crazy woman. She’s a fraud!” I watched her panic and found it laughable. “The departure hall surveillance recorded everything clearly. Want to check it yourself?” John stared at me hard, as if trying to judge whether I was telling the truth. After a long moment, he snorted coldly. “Stop making excuses! Our family has access to all the precious medicinal materials in the world. At worst, we’ll have someone prepare another dose!” “Now, come with me immediately!” He waved his hand. Several bodyguards in black directly lifted me up and forcibly stuffed me into a black business van parked downstairs. Several hours later, I was brought to the entrance of Houston First Hospital’s intensive care unit. Through the glass, Thompson was covered in tubes, and the monitor beside him emitted sharp alarm sounds. “Heart rate continuously dropping! Blood pressure barely measurable!” Several experts surrounded the bed, sweating profusely but helpless. “The miracle doctor is here!” John pushed through the crowd and pulled me to the front. At the end of the corridor, an elderly man with silver hair and an imposing presence walked over with a cane. Thompson’s grandfather, Paul, looked me up and down and directly handed me a blank check. “Fill in any amount you want.” “As long as you can save my grandson, our family won’t treat you poorly.” “But if you can’t save him…” His voice suddenly turned cold, full of killing intent. “I’m afraid your mother won’t be safe.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The Thompson family members were all cut from the same cloth. “Mr. Paul, you certainly have impressive authority.” I looked at him coldly, not taking the check. “Unfortunately, your grandson’s life can’t be bought back with any amount of money.” Paul flew into a rage, raising his cane and striking it heavily on the ground. “Outrageous! You dare curse my grandson!” “Someone, tie her up and throw her in the operating room! Today she’ll operate whether she wants to or not!” The bodyguards immediately surrounded me. I didn’t resist. I just took out my phone from my pocket and opened a video. I held the phone screen up to Paul’s face and pressed play. In the video was yesterday’s scene of the flight attendant crushing the medicine. “This medicine is one of a kind in the world.” “Without this medicine to protect his heart meridian, even God couldn’t save him.” Paul suddenly turned his head and looked at the flight attendant cowering in the corner. The flight attendant was so frightened her legs gave out. She fell directly to her knees. “Please let me explain…” “SLAP!” A loud slap landed hard on her face. The flight attendant’s face instantly swelled on one side, blood trickling from her mouth. She covered her face, scared out of her wits. “It wasn’t me! It was her! This woman is lying!” The flight attendant pointed at me, trying to throw all the blame on me. Paul was shaking with rage, his hand pointing at the flight attendant trembling.

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I was in the middle of negotiating a business deal when my husband Ethan’s newly hired intern, Lily, barged in and demanded I go buy her breakfast. Watching the client’s face darken, I immediately threw her out. Afterward, I apologized repeatedly before finally securing the partnership. Just as I was about to share the good news with Ethan, patent agreement in hand, he slapped me twice across the face in front of the entire company. “You vicious woman! Is money all you ever think about? Do you know you almost got Lily killed?” That’s when I learned Lily had been hospitalized for low blood sugar from skipping breakfast. But there was clearly chocolate on her desk that I’d bought for her earlier. I looked up at Ethan’s furious face. My cheeks burned, but my heart went cold. After a long silence, I finally spoke: “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” The moment those words left my mouth, Ethan’s expression froze. Then he grabbed a janitor’s mop bucket and dumped the filthy water over my head. Ice-cold, reeking water soaked through my clothes. My white shirt clung to my skin, revealing the color of my bra underneath. The stench spread through the air. I was completely drenched, hair plastered to my face, water dripping down my cheeks. Under everyone’s stares, I’d never felt more humiliated. Ethan pointed at me, his tone violent: “Not thinking clearly? Let me help you wake up.” A deathly silence fell over the room. All the employees kept their heads down. I clutched the patent agreement, now soaked, my fingertips ice cold. A wave of bitterness surged in my chest as I shot back: “Ethan, do you know what this project bonus is for? It’s to save my mother’s life. What could be more important than keeping the company from going bankrupt, more important than keeping my mom alive? Lily had low blood sugar, but her desk was full of soda and chocolate I gave her. Why didn’t she eat any of it? There were so many idle colleagues just now. Why did she specifically barge in to find me while I was negotiating a hundred-million-dollar project? Let me be blunt—I’m the Vice President of this company. Why should I buy breakfast for an intern?” Ethan’s face turned pale. He seemed at a loss for words, then let out a cold snort: “Since you want this money so badly, fine. I’ll tell you right now—I won’t give you a single cent of this project bonus. I’m awarding it all to Lily.” My whole body shook. I couldn’t believe these words were coming from my husband of ten years: “On what grounds?” His tone was cold, looking at me with contempt: “Your mom’s already got one foot in the grave. Does this money even matter? Lily is young with a bright future ahead. This money suits her better. It’ll also knock down that arrogant attitude of yours.” Those words stabbed into my chest like a knife. I steadied my trembling body as tears finally spilled down my face. This company survived until today not because of him, but because of the patent my mother developed by exhausting her life’s work. My mother contracted cancer precisely because developing that patent meant long-term exposure to experimental metal radiation. It was because of my mother’s sacrifice that I threw everything into securing this project. For this project, I pulled every string I could, drank until I had stomach bleeding at business dinners, just to connect with this well-established partner who could provide a hundred-million-dollar collaboration deal. But now… My voice trembled, tears beyond my control: “Ethan, have you forgotten how you begged my mother when you were penniless, begging her to give you the patent? My mom felt sorry for me, pitied you, and let the company use her core patent for over a decade for free—not asking for a single cent. Now you talk about her like this. Doesn’t your own heart ache?” Complete silence fell. My accusation echoed through the office. All the employees looked at me with sympathy, then began discussing in lowered voices. “Ethan went too far. How could he say something like that?” “Right? We were all free at the time. Lily didn’t come to any of us—why did she specifically go find Jordan while she was in the middle of a project meeting?” “So this company exists today because of Jordan’s mother. Ethan’s words are just too…”

The employees’ murmurs died down when they met Ethan’s dark expression. The whispered sympathy and indignation fell on his ears. Ethan’s face alternated between pale and flushed, utterly humiliated. Cornered by the accusations, Ethan’s tone softened for a rare moment: “Jordan, I… I didn’t mean it like that…” Before he could finish, footsteps echoed from the lobby entrance. Lily was being supported by bodyguards, her face pale, stumbling as she rushed in. Her voice dripped with theatrical grievance: “Stop fighting, please! It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have troubled the Vice President to buy me breakfast.” “A poor person like me isn’t worth anything. I don’t deserve to make you angry on my account.” “It’s all my fault. Please don’t fight because of me…” Lily cried while actually starting to kneel before me. “I was so thoughtless! I shouldn’t have asked the Vice President to buy breakfast. The Vice President did nothing wrong—it’s all my fault. Someone like me is worthless anyway. I might as well just jump out a window.” She screamed and rushed toward the window, acting like she wanted to end her life. Ethan’s face changed drastically. He immediately rushed forward and grabbed her tightly, pulling her back with force: “Lily! Don’t be rash! I’m here.” After some struggle, he pulled her back into his embrace. But during the scuffle, the top button of Ethan’s shirt popped open. From his neck down to his chest—covered in fresh and faded red marks. We’d been sleeping in separate beds for nearly a month now. His late nights coming home, the perfume smell on him, the mysterious expenses, how he never let his phone out of his sight. All the signs I’d ignored suddenly connected in that moment. He was having an affair. With this intern he held so precious. My whole body went cold. Even breathing hurt. Seeing me staring at his neck, panic flashed in Ethan’s eyes, quickly replaced by rage: “Jordan, what’s the point of dredging up your mother’s old business? I run this company now, and you need to listen to me.” “Stop trying to fool me. Your mother’s illness isn’t that serious. She said herself it’s nothing major. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Bitterness surged in my chest again. My mom had pretended she was fine so Ethan could focus on the company without distraction. But if he’d just asked at the hospital even once, he’d know my mom would die soon without surgery. Before I could respond, he continued: “You think being Vice President gives you some kind of superiority? Starting today, you’re demoted. You’ll be Lily’s assistant and learn how to be a decent human being.” That sentence ignited all the humiliation I’d endured today and my fury over Ethan’s affair. I couldn’t control myself anymore. I raised my hand to slap Lily across the face. Ethan moved quickly, immediately shouting: “Security! Hold her down.” Two large bodyguards instantly rushed forward, twisting my arms and pinning me so I couldn’t move. Ethan’s eyes turned vicious. “Still trying to hit people? Beat her. Beat her until she comes to her senses.” Slap after slap landed on my face. At least a dozen. My lip split, my cheeks swelled and burned, my ears rang, darkness crept into my vision. Ethan glared coldly at all the employees: “What happened today—anyone who breathes a word of this gets fired immediately and blacklisted permanently.” The bodyguards shoved me hard to the ground. Covered in filthy water mixed with tears and blood, I looked as pathetic as a drowned rat. I tried to push myself up. Ethan walked over and crouched down in front of me. “Jordan, if you dare call the police, I’ll stop your mother’s medication immediately and let her fend for herself.”

My chest constricted sharply. Sourness rushed straight to my nose. My mom spent her whole life as a professor—frugal and modest. Most of her savings went to Ethan’s startup, the rest to charity. She kept nothing for herself. I bit down hard on my teeth, unable to say a word. I could only swallow the choking bitterness in my throat. I stumbled out of the company and headed straight for the hospital. But just as I reached the inpatient building, the doctor called, his voice urgent: “Ms. Rivers, your mother’s medication has been stopped.” My whole body trembled. With shaking hands, I dialed Ethan’s number. The moment he answered, his cold voice came through: “This is your lesson. Behave yourself. Come to the company tomorrow to be Lily’s assistant, or your mother won’t last another day.” Through the receiver, I heard Lily’s sweet, cloying laugh: “Ethan, let’s go to that Japanese restaurant tonight, okay?” The call ended. I stood in the hospital’s cold corridor, watching patients’ families come and go, finally unable to hold myself up. I slowly sank to the ground and cried. I clutched the salary card I’d saved for ten whole years, my hands shaking as I handed it to the payment window. The nurse swiped it, then looked up at me with a gentle shake of her head, her tone sympathetic: “Ms. Rivers, this card has been frozen. The primary cardholder needs to unfreeze it before it can be used.” In an instant, all the strength drained from my body. Ten years of marriage. I’d stood by him from nothing to the brink of going public. In his eyes, I wasn’t worth a single cent. My mom was still in her hospital room waiting for life-saving medication. I had no choice. I wiped the tears from my face, gritted my teeth, and headed back to the company. By the time I stumbled back to the office, it was long past closing time. Only the top-floor executive office still had its lights on. Just as I reached the elevator, the head of security blocked my path, looking me up and down with disdain: “Ms. Rivers? Oh wait—you’ve been demoted. What are you doing at the company now? Planning to steal something?” I had no energy to argue with him. I shoved him aside and rushed toward the office. The closer I got to the door, the clearer I could hear the indecent sounds coming from inside. A woman’s sultry moans mixed with a man’s heavy grunts, along with the desk creaking under strain. “Ethan, slower… I can’t take it anymore…” “What if that shrew finds out? She’ll beat me…” Ethan’s voice came through between ragged breaths: “Don’t worry. She can only depend on me now. Without me, she’s nothing…” My mother was dying in the hospital, and he was here sleeping with his intern. Overwhelming fury and humiliation instantly clouded my judgment. I raised my foot and kicked the office door hard. “BANG.” The door flew open. The scene inside was obscene. Ethan immediately grabbed his shirt to cover himself, pointing at me and cursing: “Jordan! Have you lost your mind?! Acting like a total psycho—wasn’t the last lesson enough for you?!” My whole body trembled. Tears finally fell uncontrollably. I stared at him hard, my voice hoarse beyond recognition: “Ethan, what will it take for you to give my mother her medication?” He straightened his clothes, pulled a document from his drawer, and threw it on the desk. “Simple. Sign this patent transfer agreement. Transfer the core patent from your mother’s name to mine personally.” “The patent is still in your mother’s hands. I’m not comfortable with that. Sign it, and I’ll renew your mother’s medication immediately.” I stared at the agreement, my whole body shaking with rage. That patent cost my mother half her life’s work. She got cancer from radiation exposure developing it. It was her life. “I’ll never sign. This is my mother’s lifelong work. Don’t even think about it.”

“Then don’t blame me for forcing you.” Ethan’s expression darkened as he advanced toward me. I was about to step back when sudden, sharp pain exploded at the back of my head. My vision went black instantly. The world spun. I struggled to turn my head. The last thing I saw was Lily holding a black iron rod. Ethan’s icy voice reached my ears: “Let you experience what Lily went through. See if you still talk back.” With that, he intimately took Lily’s arm, and they turned to leave. I completely lost consciousness and collapsed heavily to the floor. When I regained consciousness, darkness surrounded me. The air reeked of mildew and dust. I was locked in an abandoned warehouse. Doors and windows sealed tight. I called for help, but no one came. I still wore that filthy water-soaked shirt, cold and stinking against my skin. My stomach growled with hunger. My lips cracked and peeled. Not a drop of water to drink. Cold, hungry, thirsty—I was on the verge of collapse. And all I could think about was my mother in the hospital without her medication. Was she in pain? Was she suffering? Was she… I didn’t dare think further. I curled up in the corner, breaking down. I don’t know how many times I passed out, only watching the sun rise and set through the window. Two full days and nights. I had no chance to call for help. Just as my consciousness was about to fade completely, the warehouse door suddenly opened. A longtime company employee passing by discovered me barely alive and got me out. The first thing I did was take a cab to the hospital, then borrowed the driver’s charging cable to charge my phone. The moment it powered on, a text message popped up. “Is this Professor Quinn’s daughter? I’m Professor Quinn’s former student. I heard Professor Quinn’s patent license to Gray Corporation has expired. Our Sullivan Group is willing to pay ten billion for ten years of usage rights, with 51% profit sharing. Would you be interested?” Before I could reply to that message, the car had already stopped at the hospital entrance. I stumbled inside, running straight into my mother’s attending physician: “Where’s my mom? How is she?” The doctor looked troubled. “Ms. Rivers, your mother was already discharged by someone else and transferred home. All treatment was stopped.” My head buzzed. “Who did it?” “A young woman. She said she was following Mr. Gray’s orders, that home care would be fine.” “I explained Professor Quinn’s serious condition to her. She said the family didn’t have money for hospitalization…” It was Lily. I ran home like a madwoman. The moment I pushed open the door, my entire world collapsed. My mother lay quietly on the cold floor, her face pale, no longer breathing. She was gone. While I was locked in that warehouse crying for help. While Ethan and Lily were enjoying themselves. My mother—who lived her whole life in modest poverty, who gave us everything—died alone. Without medication. Without treatment. Just like that, she was gone. I knelt on the floor, holding my mother’s gradually cooling body, sobbing until my heart shattered. Until I couldn’t make a sound anymore. Only suppressed whimpers remained. I couldn’t understand how everything had turned out this way. I didn’t notify Ethan. During those days handling funeral arrangements, I moved like a walking corpse. Until an elegant, dignified man entered the mourning hall to pay his respects. Afterwards, he turned to look at me. “Ms. Rivers, my deepest condolences. I’m Sebastian Sullivan, Professor Quinn’s former student and the person who sent you that message.” After I told him everything in fragments, his expression darkened bit by bit, the pressure around him becoming frightening: “I never imagined we’d meet under these circumstances. This is my fault. I sent the Professor messages recently that she never replied to. I should have looked for her sooner.” He lowered his head in self-reproach. I shook my head, indicating he shouldn’t blame himself. My mom didn’t want to make a big deal of her illness. She always thought of others first. She knew if her students found out she was sick, they’d visit every day. Sebastian understood my mother’s nature and sighed. I looked up at Sebastian with red eyes: “Mr. Sullivan, I wonder if you’re still willing to sign that licensing agreement?” This was something my mother paid for with her life. I would never let Ethan profit from it by a single cent again. Sebastian nodded firmly. Just as the pen touched paper to sign, my phone vibrated. A message from Ethan: “Have you thought it over? Sign the patent transfer agreement, and I’ll have the hospital give Mom her medication and surgery immediately.” Reading that message, my chest felt like it was being torn open, the pain suffocating. The hatred made my whole body tremble. My mom was already dead, and he was still threatening me with her life. Sebastian pressed his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be impulsive. For evil people to fall the hardest, you have to wait until they’re at their highest point.” He was right. I gripped my phone tightly but ultimately didn’t reply with a single word. On the other side, Ethan waited a long time without receiving my response. An inexplicable panic rose in his heart. He turned to ask Lily, who was nestled in his arms: “When you went to the hospital that day, did the doctor say how serious Mom’s condition really was?” Lily’s eyes flickered. She forced herself to stay calm: “Not serious at all. The doctor said it was just a minor issue that would get better with rest. Jordan was just making a mountain out of a molehill.” Ethan breathed a sigh of relief and sneered: “I knew it. She was just using her mother to manipulate me.” “But it doesn’t matter if she won’t budge. At the company’s IPO launch the day after tomorrow, I’ll publicly announce that the patent belongs to the company. Done deal. Anyway, my mother-in-law has always been fond of me. When the time comes, I’ll sweet-talk her a bit and she definitely won’t make a fuss.” Lily immediately smiled, her eyes crinkling: “Ethan, you’re so clever! Once we go public, we’ll be the envy of everyone.” The two embraced, fantasizing about their glorious success. Soon, Gray Corporation’s IPO launch event arrived as scheduled. The venue was brilliantly lit, packed with reporters. Ethan stood on stage, full of confidence, about to announce the company’s core patent and IPO news. Just then, his secretary rushed in, face deathly pale, voice trembling: “Mr. Gray! This is bad! Something terrible has happened.” Ethan frowned and snapped: “What are you panicking about?!” “Professor Quinn—your mother-in-law’s patent license to the company has expired! And also…” Before the secretary could finish, the venue erupted into chaos. Investors and partners’ faces instantly changed. Ethan waved his hand impatiently: “What’s there to worry about?! That’s my mother-in-law’s patent. One phone call from me and it’s settled. What’s the big deal?!” The secretary closed their eyes in despair. “Mr. Gray, Professor Quinn has passed away from illness.”

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I always felt like my husband had some kind of condition. Every time we had sex, his rough fingertips would push me to climax over and over, But just as he was about to fully possess me, he’d always pull away abruptly. All night, I listened to the water running in the bathroom and the muffled sound of a man trying to breathe quietly. I figured he must have been forced into this marriage. That was why he was so half-hearted. Then came that night. Divorce papers in hand, I stopped outside the study. The door was half-open. “Kai, you’re clearly addicted to Nora, so why won’t you touch her?” “Human girls can’t resist temptation. You better watch out or some other wolf will steal her away one of these days.” The man being teased took a leisurely sip of his drink, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you guys know? I dream about absorbing her into my very bones. But what if I lose control and hurt her? What if I scare her away and she doesn’t want me anymore?” His friends all laughed at that. “Then maybe stop taking those ice-cold showers for two hours every night.” That same night, while Kai was in the bathroom taking another cold shower, I unlocked his tablet with trembling hands. Ninety-nine search history entries, all variations of the same question. “I finally married my mate, but I’m a werewolf and she’s just a human. How can I have sex with her without hurting her?”

My fingers flew across the tablet screen, The further down I scrolled, the more my hands shook, until even my breathing trembled. A condition? Forced marriage? Frigid? All lies. He was actually a werewolf! The bathroom water stopped. Before I could process the truth, the bedroom door swung open. Kai’s black hair was still dripping wet. When he saw me holding his tablet, the color drained completely from his face, and he even stopped drying his hair. He froze in the doorway, panic and helplessness flashing in his eyes. We stared at each other silently for a good ten seconds before I finally broke the silence, my voice shaking uncontrollably, “Kai, is all this stuff you posted real?” His Adam’s apple bobbed hard as he walked toward me step by step. “Nora, let me explain…” “Explain what? Explain that you’re a werewolf? A monster?” I looked up at him, my eyes instantly reddening, “You’ve been lying to me this whole time!” “Yes.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were filled with honest humility, “I’m the Alpha of the Karen Pack of werewolves. I’m sorry, Nora. I’ve been hiding this from you for so long.” “What about the arranged marriage?” My voice tightened, “When my sister suddenly called off the engagement and ran to Europe, you had something to do with that, didn’t you? This marriage was your scheme from the very beginning?” “Yes.” He didn’t hide anything, his voice hoarse as he laid out all his secrets, “The day of our college graduation, the first time I saw you, I knew you were my fated mate-my one and only partner for life.” “To switch the arranged marriage to you, I helped your sister arrange everything for Europe so she could pursue the life she wanted without any worries.” At this point, Kai clenched his fists, “It’s not that I didn’t want to touch you-I was afraid I couldn’t control the werewolf possessiveness and would hurt you. Even more, I was afraid that if you found out I wasn’t human, you’d be scared of me. That you’d leave me.” He laid all his restraint, all these years of hidden love, bare before me. My heart felt sour and numb, but more than anything, I was shocked at being deceived and terrified by this truth about werewolves that was beyond my comprehension. For twenty-four years, I’d never imagined that the husband who’d slept beside me for half a year wasn’t human. Looking at this man I’d once thought cold and distant, I only felt he was strange and frightening. I jerked backward, avoiding his outstretched hand. “Don’t touch me!” My voice cracked with tears as my whole body trembled, “Kai, you say you love me, but you couldn’t even give me basic honesty. You lied to me for six whole months!” “Did you ever think about how scared I’d be when I found out?” “Nora, I…” His eyes filled with hurt and regret, “I was just afraid of losing you. I never wanted to hurt you, never.” “Stop talking.” I grabbed my coat and bag from the bed, desperate to escape this suffocating place. Kai’s tall figure blocked my path, his hands covering my shoulders as he looked at me with reddening eyes, “Nora, I won’t force you, just don’t run away, okay?” His voice shook hoarsely, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You can yell at me, punish me-I’ll take it all. Just don’t go out alone. I’m worried about you.” I wrenched free of his grip. “Kai, I think we both need to calm down.” Ignoring his anxious calls behind me, I slammed the door and drove off, heading straight to my best friend Jade’s house.

When Jade opened the door and saw my tear-stained face, she jumped in alarm and quickly pulled me inside. “Nora? What happened? Didn’t you say you were going to ask Kai for a divorce? Did he fight with you?” All the emotions I’d bottled up that night came crashing down. I buried myself in her arms and told her everything about Kai. Jade’s eyes went wide as saucers, her face full of disbelief. “This is more insane than a movie plot! There are actually werewolves in the real world?” “So he’s not impotent-he’s afraid of losing control and hurting you? And he’s had a crush on you for four or five years?” “Yes.” I sniffled and grabbed the whiskey from the table, taking a large gulp, “But my head’s a complete mess right now, Jade. I don’t know how to face him.” “So what are you going to do? Actually get divorced?” Jade handed me a tissue, asking carefully. My hand holding the glass froze. Divorce? I’d been set on divorce before because I thought this marriage had no love-only half-hearted obligation. But now that I knew about all his restraint and deep feelings, I couldn’t bring myself to say the word “divorce.” Yet I couldn’t immediately accept that he was a werewolf and interact with him without any reservations either. “I don’t know.” I took another gulp of whiskey, my eyes reddening even more, “I just feel so confused. He kept me in the dark for so long. Now when I look at him, he feels like a stranger.” Jade didn’t push me further, just kept me company as I drank glass after glass. My mind was chaotic and stifled. I drank quickly and heavily, and before long, my consciousness grew fuzzy. In my daze, I thought I heard my phone vibrating non-stop, but my eyelids felt glued shut. I simply turned off my phone, rolled over, and passed out. Meanwhile, at the villa, Kai sat in the living room all night, the ashtray piling up with cigarette butts as the bloodshot in his eyes grew heavier. Looking at the messages that remained unanswered, his mood grew increasingly heavy, but he didn’t dare push too hard, afraid I’d become even more resistant. He leaned back, muttering to himself, “Nora, what am I supposed to do with you?” When I woke up the next day, my head felt like it was about to explode, my throat was parched, and my whole body was weak. Rubbing my neck, I picked up my phone. The moment I turned it on, a flood of messages and missed calls poured in. Reading through dozens of messages made my chest ache. Jade woke up too, yawning as she asked me, “Awake? Figured things out yet?” I shook my head, but I knew that no matter how confused I felt, I couldn’t keep hiding here forever. What needed to be faced would eventually have to be faced. After saying goodbye to Jade, I drove back to the villa. As soon as I pushed open the front door, the heavy smell of cigarette smoke hit me. Kai sat on the couch, radiating unmistakable exhaustion. Hearing the door open, he whipped his head around. The moment he saw me, he immediately stood and strode quickly toward me. “Nora, you’re back.” His voice was extremely hoarse, his gaze urgently scanning me, “Are you hungry? I kept some porridge warm for you.” His cautious demeanor made me feel even worse. But thinking about how he’d hidden things from me for six months, I hardened my heart and didn’t respond. Just then, his gaze fell on my neck, and his pupils constricted sharply. In that instant, I clearly felt the surrounding air turn cold. An extremely strong sense of oppression emanated from him, and even his breathing grew several times heavier. He opened his mouth, his Adam’s apple rolling repeatedly. “You… who were you with last night?” “None of your business. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m going upstairs.” I waved him off and walked straight upstairs without another glance. After I turned to go upstairs, Kai’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white, and he ground his teeth. The werewolf possessiveness over one’s fated mate was an instinct carved into their bloodline. Those overlapping red marks on my neck stabbed into his heart like needles. Jealousy and pain submerged him like a tidal wave, but he didn’t even have the right to question me. He was the one who’d hidden his identity first. He was the one who’d never dared touch her, making her suffer so much grievance. He closed his eyes, forcibly suppressing the metallic taste rising in his throat, left only with overwhelming bitterness.

I collapsed into bed as soon as I got to my room. The hangover hit hard, and by the time I woke up, it was already completely dark outside. As I tried to get up, I felt burning hot all over, without even the strength to kick off the covers. In my daze, the bedroom door was gently pushed open. The moment Kai entered and saw me curled up under the blanket, my cheeks flushed red with fever, he walked quickly over and touched my forehead. His whole body panicked. “Nora?” “How did you get such a high fever?” I frowned and instinctively shrank away, my voice hoarse. “I don’t need you. Go away.” His hand froze in mid-air, his eyes instantly flooding with heartache and self-blame. “Be good, don’t fuss. Let’s take your temperature and you’ll feel better after taking medicine, okay?” He turned and quickly fetched a thermometer and fever medicine. I was too dizzy and weak to argue with him, letting him help me obediently swallow the medicine. When his cool fingertips touched my burning lips, the hand at his side clenched tightly, and his breathing grew heavy. In my foggy consciousness, I seemed to hear the sound of cold water running in the bathroom, continuing for a very long time. When I fully woke up again, it was already morning. As soon as I opened my eyes, I found myself tightly held in Kai’s arms. Seeing me awake, he immediately looked down at me, his fingertips touching my forehead before he let out a heavy sigh of relief. “The fever’s finally broken. Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? Do you want some water?” Looking at the dense bloodshot in his eyes, most of my anger dissipated, though my words remained stubborn. I struggled out of his embrace, saying ungraciously, “I won’t die. I don’t need your fake kindness.” Kai’s hand froze in mid-air, a flash of hurt crossing his eyes as he said quietly, “It’s my fault for not taking good care of you. I knew you’d been drinking but still let you catch a chill and get a fever.” “What does my fever have to do with you?” I looked at him as two days’ worth of grievance and anger suddenly surged up, “Kai, who are you putting on this devoted act for now? You weren’t honest from the start, and after we got married you wouldn’t even touch me. What exactly do you think I am?” The more I talked, the more wronged I felt, and I continued recklessly. “Jade already found me two male models with eight-pack abs. Being with them would be better than staying with an old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud like you!” The moment those words left my mouth, Kai’s expression changed instantly. His pupils contracted sharply, his hand gripping the bedsheet so tightly his knuckles went white. But seeing my reddened eyes, that towering rage was forcibly suppressed. “Nora, I’m sorry.” Seeing him only capable of apologizing made me even angrier. I rolled over with my back to him, not wanting to deal with him anymore. Kai sat behind me for a long time-so long I thought he’d left-before I felt him gently touch my hair, “It’s my fault. All of it is my fault.” His voice was very low, heavy with self-blame, “Don’t be angry, and don’t go to anyone else, okay? Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. I’ll change everything.” I ignored him, keeping my eyes closed and pretending to sleep. He sighed softly and got up to leave. The moment the door closed, I opened my eyes, my heart a tangled mess. Outside the door, Kai leaned against the wall and closed his eyes hard. His friends were right. If he kept being such a coward, he really would lose his fated mate. Kai pulled out his phone and messaged his childhood friends, asking them to come to the house. He needed these brothers to help him figure out how to make his little mate stop being angry, How to make her completely believe that he loved her more than his own life.

The fever completely broke the next afternoon. After sleeping through it, I woke up feeling much lighter, though my stomach growled with hunger. I wanted to go downstairs to find something to eat. Just as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard Kai’s friends’ voices. “Kai, you’re clearly addicted to Nora, so why won’t you touch her?” “Human girls can’t resist temptation. You better watch out or some other wolf will steal her away one of these days.” Kai’s voice carried deep exhaustion, “I’m afraid she hasn’t recovered yet. She’s still angry with me and won’t even talk to me.” “Being angry means she cares! If she really didn’t care, she would’ve asked for a divorce already. Would she even come back to this house?” “You didn’t dare touch her before, and now you don’t dare speak up. Wait until Nora really runs off with someone else-you won’t even have a place to cry!” Listening to their conversation, the last of my stubbornness and anger gradually faded. I took a deep breath, about to walk downstairs and talk everything through with him. Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang. The crisp chime was particularly jarring in the quiet living room. Immediately after, two young men’s voices came from the entrance, loud enough to penetrate right through the door. “Is Nora here? We’re sent by Jade. She said you weren’t feeling well and asked us to come keep you company and cheer you up!” The conversation in the living room stopped abruptly. I froze on the stairs, my mind going blank with a buzzing sound. Oh no. When I’d been venting to Jade earlier, in the heat of the moment I’d agreed to her suggestion about male models, then completely forgot about it. I never thought she’d actually send people over, and at this exact moment! The living room fell deathly silent. The next second, I saw Kai walk to the door. His voice was as cold as ice. “Get lost.” The two male models outside hesitated, trying to say something more, when Kai spoke again, “Say one more word and I’ll make sure you never leave this neighborhood.” Even through a door, a top-tier Alpha’s dominant pressure was enough to make two ordinary human men break out in cold sweat. The voices outside immediately went silent, followed by panicked, fleeing footsteps. He slowly turned around. Looking up, he locked onto me standing on the stairs with pinpoint accuracy. His friends very tactfully moved toward the door. “Kai, we’ll head out now. You and Nora take care.” Kai’s gaze fixed on me as he walked toward me step by step. His eyes were thick with desire that couldn’t be dissolved, and the aura around him was frighteningly cold. He trapped me between himself and the stair railing, his tall figure completely enveloping me. “Nora,” his voice was extremely hoarse, “do you want it that badly?” My heartbeat skipped. I was about to explain that Jade had messed things up. He lowered his head, his lips brushing my neck, his hands restlessly moving downward, “Whatever they can give you, I can give you too. What they can’t give, I’ll give you even more.” His hand stopped between my legs, and my body couldn’t help trembling, “Nora, give me a chance to be your real husband, okay?”

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He pursued me for seven years and doted on me endlessly. He was the perfect husband in everyone’s eyes. On our wedding anniversary, he knelt at my doorstep and begged me. “Renée, I was drugged. Tara is carrying my child.” I smiled and forgave him, then turned around and signed the divorce papers. Before leaving, I took one last look at our marital home. He didn’t know I had long ago overheard his whispered conversations with Tara. “Renée? Just a dead fish in bed. You’re so much hotter.” He also didn’t know that at this very moment, at the London airport, someone who had waited five years for me was opening his arms wide. Damien, may you lose everything you love and have all your dreams come true. Renée’s POV Everyone said Damien Foster loved me more than life itself. When I was fifteen, he saw me for the first time under the plane trees on Old Street. He said that with just one glance, he fell deeply in love with me. For the next seven years, he pursued me, doted on me, and made me the most envied woman in the entire city. Five years of dating, and we never once fought. The way he looked at me was always burning with intensity. But this same Damien betrayed me on our first wedding anniversary. The first time Damien begged me was because someone had drugged him at a business reception, and he slept with Tara Moore. Early next morning, he came to my house and knelt at the door, pleading with me. “Renée, I was wrong. Someone drugged me. I don’t even know how it happened with Tara… You can hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want. Just please, please don’t leave me.” Before I could say anything, my father burst out with a riding crop in his hand. That day, my father whipped him a hundred times. Damien was strung up on the plane tree in the courtyard, his back torn open, blood dripping all over the ground. He didn’t beg for mercy, just kept repeating “I’m sorry” over and over. I came downstairs and knelt before my father. “Let’s set the wedding date for one month from now.” My father was too angry to speak. My mother hit me twice, crying and calling me a “foolish child.” A month later, the wedding took place as scheduled. When we exchanged rings, Damien gripped my hand tightly, his eyes red-rimmed. “Renée, thank you. I will never betray you in this lifetime. If I break this vow, may I lose everything I love!” I smiled but said nothing. After the honeymoon, I planned to start trying for a baby and went to the hospital for a checkup, but in the garden I stumbled upon Tara forcefully kissing Damien. The next second, Damien pushed her away and slapped her across the face. “Tara, I’ve already settled accounts with you for that night. If you keep making trouble, I’ll make sure your family can’t stay in this city!” He turned and left, his retreating figure resolute. I stood behind a tree and didn’t make a sound. That night, he was exceptionally passionate-burning embraces and lingering kisses, as if he couldn’t wait to fuse me into his very bones. I thought, at least he only loves me. But this illusion shattered the very next day. Tara showed up at our door, clutching a pregnancy test result. “Damien, I’m pregnant.” Damien froze as if all the strength had been drained from his body. I watched him take a step forward and pull Tara tightly into his embrace. “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse, “I’m sorry…” His apologies were truly worthless. I thought. After calming Tara down, Damien knelt before me. “Renée, I need to ask you for something.” His eyes were rimmed with red. “Let Tara have the child. You’ll always be my only wife. I have no future with her. Once the child is born, we’ll send it to the old estate, and she’ll have nothing more to do with us. I’m just asking you-please let this innocent child live.” I looked down at him. He knelt at my feet, his posture as humble as a dog’s. But every word he spoke was asking me to accept another woman’s child-a child she bore for him. Suppressing the sourness welling up inside me, I ignored the panic in his eyes, pulled my hand away, and returned to my room. I opened my laptop and clicked on an email that had arrived three days ago. The sender was a world-class data analysis research institute in London. They had been inviting me to take a position overseas since a month ago. Because I still held out hope for Damien, I had kept refusing. But now… I typed a few words and clicked send. “I accept.” That afternoon, while Damien was at his company, I went to a law firm. The lawyer was my college roommate. Within an hour, she helped me draft a divorce agreement. I tucked it into my bag and took it with me to the Moore residence. Tara was sunbathing in the courtyard. When she saw me arrive, she immediately put on a helpless expression. “Renée, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I-” I cut her off and placed the divorce agreement on the coffee table. “Get Damien to sign this. You should have a way.” Tara froze for a moment, then dropped the innocent look from her face and curled her lips into a malicious smile. She picked up the agreement and flipped through it, all trace of vulnerability vanishing from her eyes. “Renée Sullivan, you should’ve left a long time ago. If you hadn’t swooped in while I was studying abroad, the position of Mrs. Foster would’ve been mine from the start!” I wasn’t angry. “Then hurry up. Seven days. I’m giving you seven days. Get this sorted out, and you’ll be Mrs. Foster.” Without waiting to see Tara’s ugly expression, I turned and went home. When I got back, I started packing. We’d only been married for a month, so I didn’t have much. Important documents and certificates went into one box, everyday essentials into another. I called a courier service and had both boxes shipped to the small apartment I’d bought before the marriage. After that was done, I looked around at the luxury goods in the house. During our five years together, Damien had indeed been generous with me. Dozens of designer bags, a closet full of haute couture, and three full glass display cases of jewelry. I took photos with my phone and contacted a secondhand dealer. Within two hours, they had cataloged everything and said they’d come pick it up tomorrow. “Good,” I replied, “After you sell everything, donate all the proceeds to an orphanage.” The dealer paused but quickly agreed. Just as I was about to rest, a commotion erupted downstairs. I stepped out of my room to see Damien bringing Tara inside, his parents following behind. His mother held Tara’s arm, and when she caught sight of me, she immediately rolled her eyes. “Damien, you and Renée have been together for five years, and you’ve been living together for how long now? And still nothing in her belly.” “Thank God Tara got pregnant, or I’d start to think you were the problem.” Damien’s expression darkened. “Stop talking nonsense!” His father snorted. “What nonsense? I think your mother’s right! Tara was lucky-she only slept with you once and the baby came.” Tara blushed. “Don’t say that…” Damien pressed his lips together and said nothing. Listening to them say I couldn’t conceive, I remained silent. After watching them for a while, I turned and went back to my room, pulled out my phone, and sent Tara a message. “Seven days.” After sending it, I tossed my phone onto the bed and walked to the window. Outside was his family’s garden. When I was fifteen, he had chased me through it, saying he wanted to pick the most beautiful flower for me. I watched for a long time, until the sunset sank below the horizon. Seven days would pass quickly.

Renée’s POV Everyone said Damien loved me more than life itself. But at this moment, the commotion downstairs made me not even want to leave my room. I had the maid bring dinner upstairs. There was a knock at the door. I thought it was the maid, but when I opened it, Damien stood there holding a tray. His eyes were brimming with apology. “Renée, Tara said her emotions have been sensitive since the pregnancy and she doesn’t want to be alone, so she came to the house today… Just for today. I promise I won’t let her come again tomorrow.” I took the tray. “Why don’t you just let her move in?” Damien froze, a flash of panic crossing his face. “Renée, are you angry? I didn’t mean it. I just think the child is innocent, and she’s endured so much being pregnant out of wedlock for my sake. I can’t be completely irresponsible…” “I’m not angry.” I cut him off. “Go on.” I carried the tray back inside. Behind me came a thud. Damien had dropped to his knees, his eyes reddening. “Renée, I’m sorry. At that business reception, I had no idea someone would drug her, let alone that I’d pick up the wrong glass. It was all an accident. The only person Damien will ever love in this lifetime is you.” I looked at him and was about to speak. “Damien!” Tara’s voice came from downstairs. “My stomach feels a bit uncomfortable. Can you come down for a minute?” Damien immediately stood up and rushed outside. He ran quickly, his retreating figure showing no hesitation. I stood there, staring at the door he’d shut behind him, feeling something lightly slash across my heart. It didn’t hurt. It was just cold. After dinner, Damien had the maid inform me that he’d be working late at the office. I hadn’t planned on waiting for him anyway, so I went straight to take a bath. The bathroom was separated from the guest room next door by only a wall. Tara was staying there tonight. I’d just turned on the water when I heard strange sounds coming from next door. I walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. The night breeze rushed in, and the sounds from next door became clearer. It was the sound of a man and woman kissing-intimate, sticky, accompanied by muffled panting. “I’m better than Renée, aren’t I?” Tara’s voice was hoarse and cloying. “Yes, you’re so much better.” Damien’s voice carried laughter-a flippant tone I’d never heard from him before. “She’s just a dead fish in bed.” In the bathroom, I gripped the windowsill, motionless. “If she weren’t so boring,” Damien’s voice continued, accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric, “I wouldn’t have had to come up with this plan to be with you…” Tara laughed, her voice even more seductive. “What, you just wanted to sleep with me? But I’m pregnant now.” Damien laughed too. “Then have the baby. I’m not short on children.” That light laughter was like a dull blade, sawing at my heart one cut at a time. Then came more intimate sounds-sounds I should never have heard. I closed the window and submerged myself in the bathtub. Hot water covered my shoulders, my chest, my chin. I closed my eyes and sank completely underwater, and the world instantly went silent. Only my heartbeat remained, muffled and rhythmic. After a long while, I surfaced, gasping for air. I suddenly remembered Damien from our college days. How pure and innocent he’d been back then. Every time he stole a kiss, his ears would turn completely red-red to the tips, red down to his neck. Whenever I teased him on purpose, he’d stand there flustered, looking at me with eyes as bright as an entire galaxy. “Renée, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.” That’s what he used to say. I believed him. But thinking about it now, those words spoiled so quickly. Only five years. My purity became a “dead fish” in someone else’s mouth. His eyes learned how to lie. His embrace could hold two women at once. I’d thought he was merely calculated against, that he was at least still a decent person. But tonight I finally understood. Damien was even more disgusting than Tara Moore. At least Tara laid her ambitions out in the open, but Damien treated me like a complete fool! I stood up from the bathtub, wrapped myself in a robe, and returned to the bedroom. The sounds from next door still hadn’t stopped. The moonlight outside was cold. I lay down and closed my eyes. I hope Tara doesn’t disappoint me.

Renée’s POV Early the next morning, I got up. As I stepped out of the bedroom, I ran right into Tara coming out of the room next door. She wore a silk robe with a deeply open neckline, the kiss marks on her neck glaringly obvious. “Renée, good morning.” Tara touched her neck, looking at me smugly. “Damien told me you’re the one who let me stay?” I looked at her and said nothing. “You’re really so magnanimous,” Tara took a step forward. “But I guess that makes sense. You married into the Foster family purely on Damien’s affection. Now that he doesn’t love you anymore, you don’t even have the right to speak in this house.” I looked at her. “Six days left.” With that, I turned to go downstairs. Tara, having her face slapped down, immediately looked furious. The next second, she rushed forward and shoved me hard! I stumbled, the world spinning. My hands flailed wildly, trying to grab onto something, but caught only air. My body tumbled down section by section, finally slamming hard onto the floor. My vision went black, and I knew nothing more. When I woke again, my nose was filled with the smell of disinfectant. I opened my eyes. Damien sat at the bedside, holding my hand, his face full of concern. “Renée, you’re finally awake.” He leaned closer, his voice full of relief. “How could you be so careless? If Tara hadn’t found you at the bottom of the stairs and called an ambulance right away, who knows what might have happened!” I looked at him, my voice very soft. “That’s what Tara said?” Damien frowned. “What do you mean? Is there something else?” I looked away. “Nothing.” He kissed my fingers. “The doctor said it’s just minor bruising. You can be discharged this afternoon.” I hummed in acknowledgment and closed my eyes, no longer responding to him. That afternoon after being discharged, Damien suggested taking me out to dinner. He’d made a reservation at a high-end Western restaurant in the city center. Just as we sat down, I heard Tara’s voice. I turned around and saw her walk in, accompanied by a fat man. I recognized him. Levi Bryant, a notorious lecher. The moment he saw me, his gaze stuck to me. Tara came over with a smile, while Lee’s eyes never left me. I frowned. “Let’s go.” “What’s wrong?” Damien poured a glass of water. “These are all your favorite dishes.” “Damien!” Tara suddenly approached and placed her hand on Damien’s shoulder. “I suddenly don’t feel well.” Damien immediately stood up, putting one arm around her and placing his other hand on her lower abdomen. “What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing, just uncomfortable,” Tara bit her lip, looking troubled. “I want you to take me to the hospital, but…” She glanced at me, then at Levi at the next table. Damien paused, then turned to look at me. “Renée, I’m taking her to the hospital.” I stood up, also planning to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. His gaze was heavy. “Renée, you help Tara entertain Mr. Bryant.” My eyes widened. “What?!” Damien’s gaze flickered, but his tone remained firm. “This business deal Tara’s working on is very important-it involves a large investment for her family. If we both leave, she won’t be able to explain to them.” “Damien!” I trembled with anger. “Do you even know what you’re saying!” I couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen Levi’s disgusting gaze! If I stayed tonight, who knew what would happen? Damien gripped my wrist tighter and tighter. “But-” “Damien,” Tara’s face went paler, her voice as weak as cotton. “I don’t feel well.” Just then, Levi also walked over, his gaze lewdly scanning me. “Mr. Foster, Miss Moore, what’s going on here?” Damien’s fingers dug into my hand as he looked at Levi. “Mr. Bryant, Tara isn’t feeling well. I need to take her to see a doctor. But regarding this collaboration, the Moore family is completely sincere. Even though Tara has to leave… I’ll have my wife entertain you.” Then he turned to look at me, his gaze heavy. “Renée, you’re Mrs. Foster. You need to consider the bigger picture.” My whole body went cold, and as I looked at him, it felt like I was truly seeing this man for the first time. Damien walked out with Tara in his arms. After a few steps, he stopped, turned back, and said to me, “Come home as soon as you finish signing. It’ll be quick.” Then he left. Levi immediately laughed loudly. “Mrs. Foster, come, let’s talk business.” He pulled a chair right next to me and put his hand on my leg. “Mr. Foster left you here himself. What are you being coy about?” I stood to leave, but Levi grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace. The pungent smell of alcohol mixed with bad breath hit me full in the face. My stomach churned. His hand was already on my waist, reaching inside my clothes. I panicked, grabbed the wine bottle from the table, and smashed it hard against his head! The bottle shattered. Red wine mixed with blood streamed down his face. He clutched his head and screamed, staggering backward. I threw down the broken bottle neck, shoved the door open, and strode out. Outside the restaurant, the night wind hit my face. I stood by the roadside, my hands still shaking. I pulled out my phone and made a call. After two rings, it was answered. “Mom,” I spoke, my voice surprisingly calm. “Where’s Dad? Tell him that next week, I’m coming home.” On the other end, my mother paused for a moment, then choked up. “Good, good. Mom will be waiting for you.” Only six days left.

Renée’s POV When I returned home, it was nearly midnight. Only a dim floor lamp remained lit in the living room. Damien had just come out of the guest room, gently closing the door behind him. When he saw me, his first words were: “Did you sign the contract?” I stood in the entryway, looking at him. He didn’t ask if I was hurt, didn’t ask if Levi had done anything to me-only asked about the contract. “Renée?” He walked over. “What did Mr. Bryant say?” I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Damien’s head snapped to the side. He froze for two seconds before reacting. “I…” He opened his mouth, seeming to realize he’d said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry, Renée. I didn’t mean it that way. I was just worried about the business…” I ignored him, went straight upstairs, and returned to the master bedroom. Damien came to the door and knocked. I didn’t respond. He was silent for a while, then said softly, “I’m sorry.” I stood by the window, letting tears stream down my face. Renée, you’re such a fool. Ten years of acquaintance, five years of dating, one year of marriage. And you couldn’t even tell who was human and who was a demon. The next morning, as soon as I came downstairs, Damien grabbed my wrist. He used considerable force, dragging me toward the living room. On the sofa, Tara was covering her face with a tissue, sobbing. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Kneel.” Damien pressed down on my shoulder, forcing me down in front of Tara. I looked up at him. “Look what you did last night!” His face was iron-dark. “Mr. Bryant called this morning to cancel the collaboration. Do you know how long Tara worked on that project? You ruined everything!” I tried to stand, but received a hard slap across the face. My head snapped to the side, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth. “Damien!” Tara cried out and stood up. “Don’t blame Renée. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given her such an important responsibility…” She moved as if to leave, but Damien stopped her. “You’re not going anywhere.” He pressed her back down on the sofa, then looked at me. His expression was complex-apologetic, reluctant, but more than anything, resolute. “When your parents went abroad, they left you three villas.” He spoke, his voice flat. “Transfer the properties to Tara. Consider it compensation for her loss.” I was stunned. “What did you say?” Damien’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked away. “The loss you caused last night was too great. Even if those three villas were sold, they’d only be worth about two hundred million. Not even enough to cover it.” “Fine.” I cut him off. Damien froze and looked back at me. I stood up, wiped the blood from my mouth, and turned to go upstairs. I walked steadily, step by step, my spine perfectly straight. Back in my room, I closed the door, took out my phone, and made a call. It was answered quickly, the voice low. “What’s wrong?” “Hello.” I leaned against the door. “I can’t keep those three properties. Have the lawyer initiate asset protection procedures.” The other end was silent for two seconds. “Did he hit you?” I didn’t answer. “I understand.” The voice on the other end turned cold. “All procedures will be completed within three days. Renée, how many more days until you come home?” “Five days.” “Good.” There was a pause. “I’m waiting for you.” Downstairs, Tara’s crying and Damien’s soft consolations drifted up intermittently-too muffled through the door to hear clearly. I looked out the window at the plane tree. When I first came to the Foster house at fifteen, it was already there. In the year since our marriage, it wasn’t that I hadn’t noticed his changes. I just never imagined a person could turn bad so decisively, so quickly, so thoroughly. I found the transaction contracts for the three properties and placed them on the shelf outside my door, then returned to the bedroom. Soon footsteps came upstairs, pausing outside my door for a few seconds-probably to check the contracts. Then came the sound of footsteps going back down. Five more days. Then I could leave him.

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My mom’s research team created an app that, once installed on a child, could monitor and even control their every move, anytime, anywhere. As my mom’s only daughter, I was forced to beta test this app. From that moment on, my life was no longer my own. Sometimes just spacing out while studying would get me remotely shocked until I wet myself. Watching me in such a pathetic state, my mom would only remark coldly: “The methods I’ve designed are all scientific. You just don’t understand.” Today is my birthday, and also the day of this app’s official launch. She demanded I appear before the world in perfect condition to showcase her achievement. “I’m doing this for your own good. One day, you’ll thank me!” But Mom, yesterday I already starved myself to death. What you’re controlling now is nothing but a corpse. Before dawn even broke, I was jolted awake by an electric current. The next second, I got out of bed and walked mechanically to the balcony. I squeezed out exactly one-third of toothpaste, filled a cup with ice water, brushed each tooth for precisely 30 seconds, then wiped my face with a damp towel—three circles left, three circles right. Then I picked up the French textbook beside me and began reading aloud. At that moment, my mom’s satisfied voice came through my earpiece: “Well done. You really are an obedient child. As a reward, I bought you new clothes!” I looked at my closet filled with identical styles and lengths in different colors, and smiled bitterly without a sound. But the next second, my bitter smile was interrupted by my roommate. “Are you ever going to stop? Every single day you wake up at four and disturb everyone! You might not need sleep, but we do!” My roommate had been woken up countless times. She hadn’t had a single good night’s sleep all semester. I felt deeply guilty and wanted to apologize, but my vocal cords seemed hijacked by someone else, unconsciously cursing at my roommate. “It’s already four o’clock and you’re still sleeping—lazy as a pig! If you want to be a worthless person with no ambition, fine, but don’t try to drag me down with you!” My roommate’s face instantly flushed red with anger, and she furiously plugged her ears. No, those weren’t my words. My heart was bleeding, but my mouth kept reading aloud, word after word. For some reason, my voice sounded like a rusty iron gate creaking back and forth, particularly grating in the silent night. I went on like this for two solid hours before stopping. I wasn’t allowed even a sip of water, and my lips looked bloody and cracked. Then my mom’s voice came through the earpiece. “Aria Sterling, what’s going on? Why am I seeing all your vital signs at zero here? What did you tamper with?” My body didn’t respond. “Say something! Are you mute? When did I teach you to treat your elders this way? Why won’t you listen to me again!” My mom’s voice grew impatient. That’s not it! Seeing my mom angry, I instinctively wanted to explain, but I couldn’t open my mouth. “Ugh!” She sighed, her tone softening. “Aria, today is the most important day of my life. Please don’t throw a tantrum, okay? This isn’t just for me—it’s for your future too!” I tried to speak, but still couldn’t make a sound. The next second, a sharp screaming sound pierced my ears, like nails scraping a blackboard. “Are you just like your black-hearted father, waiting to watch me fail? How did I give birth to such a bastard! All this hard work—who am I doing it for?” “Since you’re determined to go against me today, fine! I’m activating the highest level right now. You asked for this!” When I heard “highest level,” my heart trembled. Because this meant I would become completely puppeteered by the app, forced to follow every planned route. If I had any thought of breaking the rules, even just turning my head during class, I’d receive severe electric shocks. There were even several times I was shocked into losing bladder and bowel control in front of everyone. But I suddenly realized—I didn’t need to fear this anymore. Because Mom, I’m already dead.

For the past while, my mom had been busy with her team preparing for today’s launch, so she’d been less vigilant in controlling me. When I realized I could occasionally break the rules, I stopped eating anything—for seven days and nights straight. Until last night, I finally starved to death in my sleep. Yet I felt this was the most relaxed period of my entire life. Because it meant from now on, I would never be controlled by my mom again. But unexpectedly, when I woke up, I had become a wisp of soul, floating above and watching my corpse move like a puppet show. Without reason, I suddenly felt a trace of the ridiculous and pathetic. Is this how others saw me too? [Activating Electric Shock Level 5 Mode] A mechanical voice sounded in my ears, and electric current instantly spread through my entire body. But now I was just a pile of rotting flesh with no reaction whatsoever. My mom went crazy, screaming hysterically in my ear as if I’d committed some heinous crime. “Why won’t you obey? Do you know how hard it was for me to raise you?” “To nurture you, I went without eating, without decent clothes! I gave you the best of everything—what more could you possibly want? How can there be such a selfish child in this world?” Seeing I still had no reaction, my mom directly controlled me to swing my palm, using all my strength to slap my own face. Then she controlled my vocal cords, making me speak while hitting myself. “Mom, I was wrong. Mom, I’m sorry.” This went on for nearly five minutes before my mom finally calmed down. Looking at my swollen, red face, a trace of heartache flashed in my mom’s eyes. Her tone softened again, like a gentle mother advising her daughter—completely different from her crazed state moments ago. “Good, now you know you were wrong. It hurts me more than it hurts you. Young trees won’t grow straight without pruning! Everything I do is for your own good!” “Alright, now go put some medicine on, then go eat breakfast!” “I specially woke up before dawn today to make the most nutritious breakfast for you and had it delivered to your school cafeteria! You must be in your best condition for the launch today!” Just as she was about to hang up, she added one more thing. “I’m the person who loves you most in this world! Without rules, nothing can be accomplished! Your future self will thank me!” But Mom, there is no future. I’m destined never to become the perfect daughter you imagine. Just like that, following the app’s planned route, I walked step by step to the cafeteria. I got a specially made nutritious breakfast that only I had access to in the entire school, sat in the most remote corner, swallowing food while memorizing vocabulary. Just then, my head was violently shoved into the steaming hot milk. “You bitch! Are you trying to kill us? Do you know my parents are planning to use that app your psycho mom developed!” That’s right—this app had already attracted widespread attention before even launching. Simply because I, as the first volunteer, had used the app and stopped sleeping in, stopped playing games, stopped talking back to my parents. Moreover, my academic performance had jumped from barely passing grades to having my pick of top universities—a bright future ahead. Such a great app—how many parents were eagerly waiting for its release just to install it on their own children? It could be said that all these future victims were harmed because of me. I desperately wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t speak, so I could only let them punch and kick me. I was already a pile of rotting flesh anyway. If they could vent their anger this way, then so be it. But just then, my body suddenly bent 90 degrees out of my control, and I abruptly bowed to them, shouting in a hoarse voice: “I’m sorry! It’s all my fault!”

This was clearly my mom controlling my vocal cords, and it startled everyone present. “So these are the people who’ve been bullying you?” “Hurry up and apologize to them! What have I taught you! You don’t hit someone who’s smiling at you. When something happens, look for the problem in yourself first! Otherwise, why would they only hit you and not others?” “I’ve told you so many times—focus on your studies and don’t cause trouble, but you just won’t listen!” My mom’s voice came through, her accusatory tone making even my soul tremble. A drop of liquid fell from the corner of my eye—I didn’t know if it was blood or tears. My mom spoke with disappointment: “And you still have the nerve to cry? If you hadn’t been going around school every day with that long face, would your classmates be so opposed to this app?” “Now you’re feeling wronged? Who am I making this app for!” My mom waited expectantly for my response, but I answered her only with silence. This completely enraged her. Then she used the app to control me to kneel on the ground, viciously slapping my own face, each strike with full force. “I’m sorry! It’s all my fault! This app is innocent! After I installed it, I’ve been living happily every day! It’s launching today—you should all try it!” My sudden madness thoroughly scared the bullies, and they all fled the scene. “Kids these days are such ungrateful brats! This app of mine is their future savior! Yet they don’t know how to be grateful!” “Hmph! Once they start using it, they’ll understand their parents’ good intentions!” Having said that, my mom issued me a command: “You’ll keep kneeling and slapping yourself until your classmates approve of this app! This is your punishment for not listening to me! I’m going to your school now to prepare for the launch.” Passing students pointed and whispered, their faces full of mockery and contempt. I felt my soul burning with heat, intense discomfort and shame flooding through me. Obey, obey! I had already obeyed her every word to the letter—what more did she want from me! Clearly, all of this was her doing, so why did she get to act like she had nothing to do with it? She made me lose my friends, lose my dignity, lose myself, but in the end it seemed like everything was my own fault. What did I even do wrong… Just then, someone suddenly rushed out from the crowd and grabbed my hand to stop me from continuing to slap myself. “Aria Sterling , enough! Stop degrading yourself!” I froze and looked at the person. It was my class president, Lucas Hartwell. If high school had been three years of living under dark clouds, Lucas could be described as the occasional ray of light I glimpsed. When everyone else distanced themselves from me, he still reached out a hand, encouraging me to resist, encouraging me to escape. I saw him grab my hand with a face full of heartache, saying with great determination: “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll help you report this to the police and tell the public about the torture your mom has put you through all these years! Don’t be afraid—I’ll always stand behind you!” In that moment, I felt wrapped in warmth. So in this world, I wasn’t alone after all. Someone was actually willing to help me unconditionally. But I’m sorry—I was too weak, too cowardly. I killed myself and let down your faith in me. But just then, my mom’s uncontrolled shrill voice rang out again. “Ah! Who is this boy? I heard from the school teachers that you’ve been getting close to a male classmate. Is it him?” “You’re barely old enough and you’re already seducing men?” “I went without eating and decent clothes to raise you, and this is how you repay me? Do you want to make money by serving men when you grow up? You little slut!” My head was buzzing. I never imagined such words would come from a mother’s mouth. But the next second, I suddenly felt my hands moving involuntarily. I saw that I was now undressing in front of everyone in the cafeteria. “My daughter must remain pure and innocent! You slut, I’m going to check down there and see if your hymen is still intact.”

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I was the most valued heir in my family. My parents were extremely strict in raising me. At two years old, I had just learned to walk when they made me practice my posture on a balance beam until my feet were swollen, red, and bleeding. At three, I practiced piano from dawn to dusk. Miss a single note and they wouldn’t give me food. All year round, I had to wear black long sleeves and long pants. Every night, I had to bathe in milk heated to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. My meals were always boiled vegetables and chicken breast. Even the length of my hair had to be precisely calculated. Any violation of these rules would result in severe beatings and scolding. In contrast, my twin sister Jennifer didn’t have to do anything. She could enjoy life to the fullest. When I was suffocating under the pressure and vented online, one comment caught my attention. “Do you know what a groomed companion is? Your family doesn’t seem to be raising an heir—it’s more like they’re grooming a mistress for some rich man.”

My heart jumped. I quickly asked what he meant. He explained at length: “A groomed companion is a product customized to satisfy a wealthy person’s preferences. He gives your parents money or other benefits, and they raise you according to his requirements to become exactly what he wants.” “When you come of age and meet his standards, you’ll become the rich man’s mistress.” I instinctively resisted accepting this, but thinking carefully, my sister and I were twins, yet our parents educated us completely differently. For example, Mom bought Jennifer all kinds of pretty clothes, but always made me dress like a nun. She said: “Claudia, this is for your own good. Your clothes are all silk—they guarantee your skin stays delicate and smooth.” Mom glanced at my sister with disdain. “Jennifer isn’t like you. She’s vulgar, she likes these flashy rough fabrics. She deserves the bumps they leave all over her skin.” I clutched the black clothes in my hands, not daring to make a sound. Actually, I also wanted to wear pretty clothes like a normal little girl. But whenever I brought it up, my parents would look severe. “Claudia, we’ve spent so much effort raising you, and you’re learning bad habits from others, only thinking about looking pretty. How disappointing!” In middle school, after gym class, I secretly went to the school store and bought a bottle of cold soda. When I got home, Dad found the empty bottle. He stormed to school, dragged me out of the classroom, and made me stand under the scorching sun as punishment for three hours. Students passing by pointed and whispered about me. I lowered my head in embarrassment, but Dad insisted I keep my neck straight. He gripped my back and made me recite loudly with him: “I promise never to drink any beverage except water again, or may I die a horrible death.” I bit my teeth in grievance, tears welling in my eyes. But Dad showed no mercy. “Say it!” Like a wooden puppet, I stood stiffly under the sun, making that vicious oath over and over. When school finally let out, Jennifer drank a big gulp of Coke in front of me, then poured the rest over my head. The brown liquid soaked my hair and ran into my mouth. She laughed mockingly: “Claudia, now that you’ve drunk a beverage, why aren’t you dead yet?” The ridicule and mockery around me crawled into my ears like poisonous snakes. I clenched my fists hard, letting my fingernails dig into my palms. Remembering every incident over the past eighteen years, my fingers flew across the keyboard. “Please, how can I confirm whether or not I’m a groomed companion?”

The reply came quickly: “Rich men who keep mistresses don’t want them too educated, and don’t want them exposed to the public.” “If you do these two things and your parents react strangely, it means they have ulterior motives and aren’t genuinely trying to help you.” From elementary school until now, Dad always insisted teachers seat me in the very back row of the classroom. I constantly squinted to see the board, and before long I became nearsighted. When I carefully told my parents about this, they refused to get me glasses or take me for laser surgery. Instead, they said: “If you really can’t see, you don’t have to go to school. I never wanted you poisoned by school education anyway. After the SAT, we’ll send you straight to Europe—that’s where you’ll learn real skills.” In the end, I insisted on attending school, so they didn’t process my withdrawal. Thinking of this, I walked into Dad’s study. He was in an unexpectedly good mood, looking up from his documents. “Claudia, what is it?” I asked: “You mentioned sending me abroad to study before. The SAT is in a month—have you found a school yet?” Dad was clearly stunned, as if he’d completely forgotten about it. Recovering, he forced a relaxed laugh. “Claudia, there’s no rush. Your SAT scores aren’t out yet, so it’s pointless for me to look now.” “Don’t worry. Once the scores come in, Dad will definitely find you a good school.” He enthusiastically ushered me out, but my heart felt cold. I’d decided to study abroad long ago. If Dad truly had plans for my future, he wouldn’t be this flustered when asked about studying abroad, much less completely clueless. They’d deliberately held me back academically for over a decade. If I did poorly on the SAT and couldn’t study abroad… An heir turned into a useless person would become everyone’s laughingstock. Having gotten my answer, I walked to school in a daze. While running on the track, I suddenly heard screaming ahead. Getting closer, I saw a classmate from class had fallen and broken open their head and arm. The homeroom teacher looked anxious. “Bob has hemophilia. The wound won’t stop bleeding. This is very critical.” Everyone wore shorts and short sleeves in summer—only I had more coverage. I immediately took out the small knife I carried and cut off both pant legs. “Tie them tight to stop the bleeding first. Stay here and wait for the school nurse.” My long pants became shorts, exposing two legs so pale they were almost blinding. Someone said in surprise: “Claudia, your legs are so beautiful. Why don’t you ever wear skirts?” I smiled awkwardly without answering. But immediately, she understood why. As soon as Bob was carried away, Mom rushed over. Without a word, she slapped me across the face. “Claudia Morrison, how can you be so shameless, so cheap? Do you need everyone to see your body to be satisfied?” Someone tried to explain: “Ma’am, Claudia only did it to save someone…” One slap wasn’t enough for Mom. She grabbed my hair and violently threw me to the ground. “Claudia, you’ve really grown bold, even teaching others to speak up for you. Who is she? Is she your friend? Didn’t I tell you not to make friends!” “You little slut, I’ll beat you to death today!” Mom first wrapped my legs tightly with her jacket, then slaps rained down like hail. Feeling my burning cheeks and the numbness spreading across my back, I was finally certain—my parents didn’t love me. Not at all. I could never be the Morrison family heir.

After my own mother called me cheap in front of my classmates, I covered my face and fled. Back home, my mind was in chaos. What benefits had my parents received to cruelly sell their own daughter? If I really was a groomed companion, who had reserved me? Was it one of Dad’s two friends, or some corporate CEO? Lost in thought, my head gradually grew heavy. I realized something was wrong—there was something in the water Dad had given me earlier! When I woke again, I found myself on a theater stage with all the Morrison family relatives sitting below. Mom held a white dress, smiling as she walked toward me. “Claudia, I was too impulsive at school yesterday. I apologize. If you’ll forgive me, put on this white dress and dance for everyone, okay?” I clutched my sleeve, looking up at the bright spotlight overhead, extremely uncomfortable. The relatives below looked at me like I was an exquisite commodity. “Claudia, your mother worked so hard raising you all these years. Just dance for everyone so we can see the results. Don’t embarrass your mother in front of all these people.” “That’s right. Claudia is the Morrison family heir. Your sister was sacrificed to achieve what you are today. Be generous about it, don’t be difficult.” Mom moved a high-definition camera in front of me, her smile eerily strange. The camera’s red light blinked in the dim seating area, particularly glaring. I felt like I was being dissected for everyone’s viewing pleasure, every inch of skin, every movement exposed with nowhere to hide. Under dozens of watching eyes, I panicked and tried to flee. “No, I won’t dance. I want to leave.” Mom reached out. Years of malnutrition made me easy prey—she caught me effortlessly. “Claudia, this camera is for recording your competition video. Why are you so resistant to it?” “Listen to Mom. Come back and put on this white dress.” Mom’s smile grew even warmer. To outsiders, she looked like a devoted mother planning for her daughter’s future. My scalp prickled with fear. “No, you’re lying. The video is clearly being recorded for that person. I won’t let you manipulate me!” The moment I finished speaking, Mom’s smile vanished and her expression turned cold. “Claudia, I’m warning you—Take care of yourself. If you don’t dance today, you’ll never leave this place!” She clapped her hands. Immediately, two rows of bodyguards rushed out from backstage, ready to drag me away and lock me up. I had no choice. Humiliated, I put on the custom-made tight white dress. Since childhood, my pants had never shown my ankles. But now this dress was so short it nearly exposed the lace on my safety shorts. I bit my teeth and struggled to stand on tiptoe, dancing before the camera. Mom harshly stopped the music. “Smile! Why do you look like a corpse!” The video finally finished. The relatives applauded half-heartedly with occasional compliments. But most of their comments were about my lotus-white legs. I fled the scene in shame and cried hard in my bedroom. My phone vibrated. The anonymous user had sent another message. “Girl, you’re turning eighteen this year, right? Your birthday is the delivery date. To cover their tracks, something will definitely happen. Be careful.” I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the calendar from my desk. A certain date was circled in red pen. My eighteenth birthday was tomorrow!

No, I couldn’t just sit and wait. I packed my documents, planning to escape from home. Looking down from the second floor, I saw bodyguards on patrol everywhere. My sister was leisurely eating watermelon and teasing them: “Are you all here to guard that sickly thing? Makes sense—she’s the Morrison family heir, precious as gold.” After her taunts, the bodyguards wouldn’t engage with her. I couldn’t find any opening. I opened my bedroom door to check the situation when Dad suddenly appeared from outside, right in front of me. “Claudia, where are you going this late?” His voice was deep, making my heart tighten. “Nowhere, just getting some fresh air.” His lips curved slightly in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You can get fresh air on your room’s balcony just as well.” With no other options, I retreated back inside and reopened the post I’d made earlier to continue editing. “I’m Claudia of the Morrison family. My parents have imprisoned me and seem to have sinister intentions. Tomorrow I’ll livestream everything. If the situation looks wrong, please help me call the police!” I paid to boost the post. Comments immediately started refreshing. “Claudia? The Claudia who was designated heir at just 100 days old? Your parents treat you so well—what could possibly happen? Stop wasting our time.” I ignored the sarcastic comments and kept scrolling. “If you think you’re in danger, why not call the police now?” I quickly replied: “It won’t work. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Even if I report it now, they won’t admit anything.” The wealthy family secrets attracted many onlookers. Most came to watch the drama, hoping the livestream would proceed. “Girl, don’t worry. We’ve got your back.” After posting, I attached an inconspicuous camera to the skin on my wrist. I connected remote AI glasses to my phone’s livestream screen. To prevent being drugged unconscious again, I got fully dressed at midnight and started the livestream. Recording video on a phone could be destroyed, but people appearing in a livestream would be recorded for real. With so many witnesses, all criminal activity would have nowhere to hide. This time, I would find out who had reserved me as a groomed companion! Right after finishing these preparations, I grew drowsy and fell asleep again. When I woke, I was bound hand and foot in an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by three masked men in black. Among a flood of “Holy shit, something really happened, already called police” comments, I found the anonymous user’s comment. “Girl, this is a hero-saves-beauty setup. The kidnapping isn’t the goal—watch out for whoever comes to rescue you.” “He’ll use his position as your savior to make you repay him. In the eyes of the world, he’ll successfully turn you into a mistress who’s willing to throw herself at him.” My breathing quickened with the content of this comment. Listening to my drumming heartbeat, I waited quietly for that person to arrive. The kidnapper took a phone call, then raised his club to swing at my head. At the critical moment, the door burst open and a familiar face appeared. The person who had reserved me for eighteen years, who’d treated me like a commodity—it was actually him!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “371035”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #狼人Werewolf

I was rushed to the ER with excruciating abdominal pain. The diagnosis: appendicitis. The doctor was typing up my prescription when his hand suddenly froze. He looked up at me. “Why would you have an IUD inserted when you haven’t even had a child yet?” An IUD? That was impossible. I had an infertile constitution. I’d spent hundreds of thousands trying to conceive, enduring treatment after treatment. “Doctor, are you sure you’re reading that right?” The doctor turned the monitor toward me, tapping his pen on the shadow on the screen. “Look right here. How could you forget your own procedure?” I stared at the screen, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. For seven years, my mother-in-law had blamed me for being unable to have children. I’d endured endless humiliation. But looking at that IUD that should never have been there… Turns out I wasn’t infertile. Someone just never wanted me to get pregnant! Staring at the shadow on the screen, my hand instinctively pressed against my lower abdomen. Seven years ago, when we were trying to conceive after marriage, I was diagnosed not only with an infertile constitution but also with small cysts. I’d looked at Harrison in panic then. He’d quietly comforted me. “Honey, don’t be scared. We’ll remove the cysts first. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Over the next seven years, Harrison accompanied me to that hospital countless times. Snapping back to reality, I asked the doctor to remove the IUD during my surgery. After the procedure, I was lying in the hospital bed when Harrison called. “Honey, where are you? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” “I’m at the hospital. I just had surgery.” I said quietly. Panic filled his voice on the other end. “The hospital? Which hospital?” Seeming to realize his overreaction, he changed his tone. “Honey, what surgery? Are you not feeling well?” I couldn’t quite describe what I was feeling. I answered briefly and hung up. Soon, the hospital room door swung open. Harrison rushed in. “You had appendicitis surgery? Why didn’t you go to the hospital where my uncle works? He could have looked after you.” He was talking while carefully observing my expression. I clutched the copper IUD in my hand, careful not to show anything unusual, and smiled at him. “It hurt too much. This hospital was closer.” My mother-in-law pushed through the door just then. Hearing my words, she immediately scolded loudly. “How much could appendicitis hurt? Can’t even handle that. How will you handle childbirth later?” “Oh wait, we don’t even know if you can have children.” “Mom, say less. Anna just had surgery. She’s not feeling well.” Harrison poured me a glass of water. After confirming I hadn’t discovered the IUD placement, he hurried to leave again. “Honey, the company’s been struggling lately. I need to get back to work. Mom will stay here to take care of you.” I nodded, watching his figure disappear behind the door. “I don’t have time to serve a barren hen like you.” My mother-in-law said mockingly before leaving as well. The hospital room fell quiet again. I let out a soft sigh. Three days later, I was discharged. During those three days, Harrison and my mother-in-law visited only a handful of times. It was the nurses who occasionally helped me out of pity. I didn’t go home. Instead, I went to the hospital where Harrison’s uncle worked—the hospital where I’d had my cyst surgery. After confirming his uncle was off today, I went to the medical records department. Soon, a nurse pulled up my file. I flipped through it page by page. Seven years of spending hundreds of thousands on medical tests, medications, and IVF treatments. Yet all that showed here were a few simple routine checkup reports. Flipping to the very first page, the record showed not a cyst removal surgery but a sterilization procedure! My hands shook uncontrollably. How ironic. Seven years of torment, seven years of guilt—all because someone had deliberately robbed me of my right to be a mother. I forced a bitter smile, but tears still fell. After a long moment, I wiped my tears and took out my phone to save the evidence. Then I suddenly noticed the family consent signature page was missing. I didn’t alert the hospital staff. I closed the file, thanked them, and left. Walking out of the hospital, I immediately called my classmate, Victor. After explaining the situation, he readily agreed and told me to wait. Soon, he called back. “Anna, I sent you the missing page on SnapChat.” “Thanks so much.” He paused before continuing. “Your husband deleted the records too thoroughly. Out of curiosity, I checked using his information.” “I found something. I sent it to you too. You…” “You need to prepare yourself mentally. Anna, if you need anything, you can always reach out to me.” “Okay…”

I walked to a bench by the roadside and sat down, opening SnapChat. The first image was the missing page. The signature on it belonged to Harrison. I knew this was coming, but it still hurt so much. Harrison’s patient, comforting voice seemed to echo in my ears. What had he been thinking then? Did he feel even a shred of sympathy for me? Or was he laughing at me? I opened the second photo—a birth certificate. My heart contracted painfully. I looked at the father’s name. Harrison! I compared the handwriting on both signatures. Identical. One signature had severed my chance at motherhood. The other had made him a father. Tears streamed down uncontrollably. Hatred surged through my chest. I sat outside for a long time before going home. My mother-in-law was watching TV on the couch. Seeing me return, she immediately ordered me to cook dinner. Because I couldn’t have children, I’d always felt guilty. I once cooked dinner even with a 104-degree fever. But this time, I refused. Seeing I wouldn’t obey, my mother-in-law immediately went to my father-in-law’s portrait and began crying. She wailed that I couldn’t give them children, leaving their family without an heir. She sobbed that Harrison wouldn’t listen to her and refused to divorce me. Over seven years, I’d heard this accusation over and over. Each time, I’d felt guilty while being grateful my husband hadn’t abandoned me. Now, watching her performance, I suddenly wondered—did she know she had a grandson out there? I must have stared too long and too intently. My mother-in-law couldn’t keep crying. She turned and called my husband instead. I ignored her and walked into the bedroom. After searching carefully, I couldn’t find any of my medical records from the checkups. I’d undergone IVF three times, all failures. Each time I wanted to see my medical records, Harrison would say he didn’t want to upset me and wouldn’t show them to me. I’d been so touched then. Now I realized it was all a joke. I closed my eyes and lay on the bed, completely drained. Before long, Harrison pushed the door open. He walked naturally to my side, trying to kiss my cheek. I turned my head away. He didn’t seem to mind. “Honey, feeling better? Come eat dinner first.” He reached out to pull me up. Looking at his outstretched hand, I had an impulse to reveal everything. But no—there were still things I hadn’t investigated. I couldn’t tip him off. I obediently took his hand and let him lead me out. After dinner, Harrison crouched in front of me, looking at me with deep affection. “Honey, you just had surgery. I didn’t want to bring this up, but the company really can’t hold on anymore.” “What’s wrong?” I played along. “A rival company cut off our supply chain. The bank pulled our loan. The company’s going bankrupt.” Before I could respond, my mother-in-law erupted in fury. “Why did the bank pull the loan? Because you can’t have children!” “Mom, this isn’t Anna’s fault.” He turned back to me. “The bank assessed that I have no heir, making it too risky. When problems arose, they immediately pulled the loan. Honey, this company is our life’s work. I don’t want it to go bankrupt.” Yes, this company was started with my father’s investment. As soon as he established the company, he immediately gave me eighty percent of the shares. That’s why I never doubted him all these years. “No heir? Then adopt one. People find solutions.” My mother-in-law’s booming voice rang out again. “Right, honey. Could we adopt a child from an orphanage? With a child, the bank will continue lending to us.” His gaze held pleading and pain. But I no longer believed him. “I’m tired.” I lowered my eyes. “Okay, honey, rest first. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll think of another way.”

These past few days, Harrison had been drowning his sorrows at home. Meanwhile, I’d been investigating the company’s finances. One day, Harrison didn’t drink. He left early in the morning. I received a message from the private investigator with evidence of him transferring company assets. I held the evidence, waiting for him to come home so we could negotiate the divorce. In the afternoon, Harrison returned. “Honey, I found a way to solve the company crisis!” His excited voice interrupted my unspoken divorce request. “I have a distant cousin who died in a car accident, leaving behind a widow and orphan. His wife, Zoe, can’t afford to raise the child and is willing to let us adopt him.” “Oh my, that’s perfect! The boy, Ryan, at least shares some blood relation with our family. This continues our family line.” My mother-in-law said happily beside him. Ryan? The name triggered a memory. “What’s your cousin’s wife’s name?” “Zoe Smith.” I smiled coldly. Zoe Smith—the mother’s name on that birth certificate. “Honey, what do you think? We adopt this child, hold a ceremony, and solve the company crisis first.” “If we have our own biological child later, the company will still go to our child.” “Sure.” I nodded. A ceremony sounded perfect. Lots of people, lots of excitement. I gripped the evidence in my hand. The day before the ceremony, Harrison brought home the widow and orphan. Zoe entered and immediately pulled the child down to kneel. “Quick, kneel to the lady. She’s taking you in. From now on, she’s your new mother.” “I won’t kneel! I don’t want a new mother!” Ryan screamed and lunged at me, scratching my arms until they bled. Harrison was busy helping Zoe up. “Anna, Zoe is giving you her child. Instead of being grateful, how can you let her kneel?” Zoe leaned weakly against Harrison. “It’s fine, Harrison. As long as you treat Ryan well.” Unable to dodge in time, I was pushed hard to the ground by Ryan. A crisp crack—the bracelet on my wrist shattered. This was my mother’s keepsake. My eyes reddened as I slapped him. Harrison immediately pulled Ryan behind him. “Anna! Have you lost your mind? You’re fighting with a child!” “He broke the bracelet my mother left me!” A flash of sympathy crossed his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “It’s just a bracelet. I’ll buy you another one in a few days!” Harrison brushed it off with one sentence, then busied himself checking Ryan’s face. But he’d forgotten—when he proposed, he’d held that very bracelet and vowed to protect me for a lifetime in my mother’s place! At dinner, Ryan put all the good dishes in his own bowl and spat in mine. Harrison and my mother-in-law turned a blind eye. The family of four enjoyed themselves, making me look like a maid. After dinner, Harrison came to me with a document. “Honey, to enroll Ryan in school, we need proof of residence from that downtown property under your name.” “Sign here so he can start school soon.” I took the document and tried to flip through it. Harrison pressed down on my hand. “Honey, don’t you trust me? Just sign.” In the past, I never questioned what he did. But now… “Are you sure this document is just proof of residence for school enrollment?” Under the surveillance camera, I asked loudly. “Don’t worry, honey. When have I ever lied to you?” Watching his triumphant expression, I lowered my head and saved this surveillance footage to the cloud. That afternoon, when I logged in to check, the video had been completely deleted as expected. That evening, Ryan cried and insisted on sleeping with Harrison. Harrison looked at me apologetically. “Honey, Ryan’s still little. Could you sleep on the couch tonight? Just one night.” Before he finished speaking, I turned and left. That bed—I found it filthy. In the middle of the night, going to the bathroom, I heard moans from the guest room—Harrison and Zoe. “Honey, when can we be together openly?” “Soon. I’ve transferred most of the company assets. After the ceremony, once I get the house, I can divorce her.” Harrison laughed quietly. “My mom can’t wait either. She’s been dying to hold her grandson.” I clenched my fists. If that’s how it is, don’t blame me for being ruthless.

At the banquet hall, we got out of the car and walked inside. Ryan shoved me aside and grabbed Harrison’s hand. “I want to go in with Daddy and Mommy.” He smirked at me provocatively. Harrison just patted his head affectionately. “Honey, kids don’t know better. Don’t take it to heart. We’ll go in first.” I stood under the scorching sun, watching the backs of their family of three. It felt utterly absurd. Walking into the hall, some clueless people came forward with compliments. “Mr. Walker, is this your wife and child? What a beautiful couple, and such a smart kid.” Zoe smiled and thanked them. Harrison just smiled without speaking. My mother-in-law beamed with a kindness I’d never seen before. But when she turned and saw me, her smile immediately faded. “Why are you just standing there? You’re in the way. If you have nothing to do, go help serve the food.” I didn’t move. “Hurry up! Can’t even have kids and just causing trouble. If you won’t help, get out.” I gripped the evidence in my hand, silently telling myself to hold on a bit longer. Not everyone was here yet. The show needed a full audience. I silently carried dishes. Walking past Zoe, I was tripped. Scalding food spilled on me, but Zoe screamed first, clutching her wrist where a few drops of soup had splashed. “Harrison, it hurts so much.” Harrison rushed over, tenderly blowing on Zoe’s arm. “Anna, how can you be so careless?” “We’ll go rinse it off first.” He glanced at me and frowned. “You should go change too. The ceremony’s about to start. Try not to be so clumsy next time.” Ignoring the various stares around me, I endured the pain and walked to the bathroom. Hold on, just hold on. This pair of cheaters will go to hell. By the time I changed and came out, the ceremony had already begun. Harrison was giving a speech on stage. “Thank you all so much for coming to this ceremony. Due to my wife’s health issues, we haven’t been able to have children since our marriage.” People around looked at me sympathetically. I kept my head down. “Ryan’s arrival is a gift from heaven, our future support.” “Everything I have will be his inheritance.” Enthusiastic applause erupted. Someone brought a bouquet of red roses to the stage. Harrison accepted them, knelt on one knee, and presented them to Zoe. “Thank you so much for giving birth to this child. You’re welcome to visit him anytime. He’ll always recognize you.” Zoe smiled shyly and accepted the roses. The applause grew even louder. Watching their interaction on stage, I had the surreal feeling I was attending a wedding. Zoe glanced at the host, who turned to look at me. “Ms. Anna, how do you feel about getting a grown son for free?” Harrison followed the host’s gaze to me and said perfunctorily, “The auspicious time is almost here. Come up on stage.” I walked forward step by step. Harrison instructed from the side. “Zoe gave you a child. You need to repay her properly.” “Now that you have a child, you need to put him first in everything. You can’t be as willful as before.” “You’ve never raised a child, so you’ll need to learn from…” Hearing this, I laughed coldly, stepped forward, and snatched his microphone. Facing everyone below the stage, I enunciated each word: “Learn from her?” “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’ll have my own children in the future.” “But the reason I haven’t gotten pregnant in seven years—I think everyone here will be very interested in that!!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “371036”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn #狼人Werewolf