Category: English

“If you ever want a divorce, you can have one anytime.” That’s what Arthur Vance told me on our wedding day. I believed him. Two months later, on the day his true love returned, I placed the divorce agreement in front of him. Arthur looked out the window, his expression flat. “It’s raining. “I’m in a bad mood. Let’s divorce next time.” Me: ??? 1 On the very night Chloe Thorne returned. Fueled by liquid courage, I slept with Arthur Vance. The trail of clothes discarded from the front door to the bedroom was proof of the urgency of our encounter. Arthur tried to maintain his reason, pushing me away. His eyes, slightly red, stared intently at me. His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. “Elena, look closely. Do you know who I am? “If we continue, don’t regret it.” I was panting slightly. I looked up, grabbed him by the collar, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him. What a joke. I was sleeping with my legal husband; what was the problem? Until the second half of the night, when I started to regret it. This guy’s stamina was terrifying. I tried to sneak away, but the person behind me grabbed my ankle and pulled me back. Warm breath tickled my ear. Arthur’s voice, deep and rich, ghosted over the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Be a good girl. Quitting halfway isn’t allowed.” 2 A night of absolute absurdity. When I woke up again, the person beside me was gone. On the nightstand sat a glass of milk, a sandwich, and a sticky note left by Arthur, its words brimming with gentle concern. Since we got married, Arthur had faithfully played the role of a good husband. I often had the illusion that I was actually loved. But reason always reminded me of the truth. The person Arthur liked was Chloe Thorne. She was the one who was supposed to marry him in this arranged union. But my always impulsive, free-spirited younger sister ran away. I heard Arthur chased her all the way to the airport that day. For some unknown reason, he ultimately didn’t get on that flight to France. Because he was acting out of spite. Later, when our families tried to shove me—the older sister he barely knew—onto him, he didn’t resist. It was only when I excused myself to the restroom that, faced with the relentless teasing of his relatives, he finally showed a hint of exhausted indifference: “Do I even have the right to refuse? “You’ve all already decided. I don’t care.” Because it wasn’t the person in his heart, anyone else would do. On our wedding day, the first thing Arthur said to me was: “If you ever want a divorce in the future, you can have one anytime.” I just didn’t expect that, a mere two months after the wedding, Chloe would come back. I’ve always known my place. Ignoring the breakfast on the nightstand, I picked up my phone and called Mia, my lawyer friend. “Prepare a divorce agreement for me.” I heard the lawyer’s exaggerated gasp on the other end. The sun was shining brightly outside the window, but suddenly, it started to pour rain. I couldn’t help but space out. 3 That very evening, I placed the divorce agreement in front of Arthur. In the quiet study, the man in the white shirt sat there, radiating an aura of noble gentleness. Completely different from the image I held in my memory. I had seen Arthur beat someone up once. It was in a filthy alleyway near the old campus of A University. To make it hurt more, he held a Zippo lighter in his fist, striking with ruthless, heavy blows. Until the sound of bones crunching echoed in the air, mixed with the man’s agonizing screams. The slightly boyish, handsome face of the youth looked somewhat demonic, splattered with crimson blood. That was the first time I met the person Chloe constantly talked about. The sole heir to the Vance Group. Violent, reckless, fearless. Perhaps because that summer was exceptionally hot and sticky, I inexplicably disliked him. My thoughts returned to the present. Arthur was still staring silently at that piece of paper. It had been so long I started to doubt his literacy skills. I couldn’t help but ask: “Can you not read?” Arthur finally moved. He turned his head to look out the window, his expression flat: “It’s been raining all day.” My gaze followed his to the damp windowpane. Okay, and? “I’m in a bad mood. Let’s divorce next time.” Me: ??? … For the past two days, Arthur and I had been locked in a bizarre tug-of-war. The chat history on my phone was still stuck on the message I sent this morning, reminding him to sign the papers. He had deliberately ignored me again. Me: [You’re avoiding this.] Arthur: [Avoiding it may be shameful, but it’s useful.] A few moments later, my phone buzzed again. Arthur: [Sleeping with me and then abandoning me. What a player.] What was that supposed to mean? Wasn’t I graciously making way for his true love? Arthur: [Did I make you uncomfortable last night, so now you’re mad? [Okay, I admit I lack experience, but doing this really makes me lose face. [Besides, you seemed to enjoy it later on /frantic emoji/.] His overly blunt words made my old face flush red. Me: [You were the one who said I could have a divorce anytime.] Arthur: [… [You talk too much. Blocking you for half a day.] I tried to reply again. The screen displayed a notification: The recipient has rejected your message. Me: ??? This guy is so childish. 4 I had originally planned to go back tonight, tie him up, and force him to sign. But halfway there, I received a call from my family’s main estate. Resigned, I turned the car around and headed back to the old mansion. As soon as I arrived, I heard a chorus of cheerful laughter coming from the living room. “Chloe, you’re getting prettier every day.” Chloe was surrounded in the center. Her face flushed red from the teasing and compliments of the relatives, looking exactly like a tender, translucent peach. “She’s such a perfect match for that Vance boy. What a shame.” “I told you, if you hadn’t run away from the wedding, you’d be the future matriarch of the Vance family right now.” Chloe quickly intervened: “Arthur is already married to my sister. It’s inappropriate to make jokes like this.” The relatives were dismissive. “What’s inappropriate? You can always divorce after getting married.” “As long as the Vance family is willing, swapping a person is no big deal.” These people were all my father’s relatives. They had always disliked me. Because I looked very much like my biological mother. That poor woman. She bet everything her father left her to help a down-and-out man rebuild his empire. Only to be betrayed time and time again. In the end, she fell ill from depression and died alone in a sanatorium. I scoffed, clapping my hands as I walked toward the crowd. “Since when did the Thorne family adopt the trend of encouraging people to steal their sister’s husband? “But you guys are right about one thing. “I’ve already given Arthur the divorce papers.” I stopped, my gaze finally locking onto Chloe’s innocent almond eyes. The corners of my mouth curled into a mocking arc. “Do you want to go act cute and beg him to kick me out faster, so you can take my place? “Just like your mother did.” Chloe’s face instantly turned pale, tears welling up in her eyes. Anyone seeing this pitiful display would feel their heart ache. “Insolent!” A furious roar came from my father behind me. I spun around, only to unexpectedly lock eyes with a pair of dark pupils swirling with inexplicable emotions. “…” Why was Arthur here? 5 As soon as the study door closed. My father raised his hand, ready to strike me. I didn’t move or dodge. I took the slap head-on, my left cheek burning with pain. “Who told you to unilaterally ask for a divorce? “Can you bear the consequences of angering the Vance family?” I lowered my eyes, my posture neither servile nor overbearing: “Isn’t Chloe still here? She and Arthur mutually love each other. It’s perfect…” “Nonsense.” My father irritably cut me off. “My, Richard Thorne’s, daughter never eats another person’s leftovers.” Another person’s? I laughed. “Back then, when you told me to marry him in Chloe’s place, did you ever think of me as your daughter? “Or perhaps, from the moment you dumped me with that ‘crazy woman’ 15 years ago, you never intended to acknowledge me again.” “Elena Thorne! “That ‘crazy woman’ you speak of was your mother.” Richard was furious, leaning on the desk, panting heavily. His health had been very poor lately. The man who was once invincible was now showing signs of old age. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he waved his hand weakly at me. “If you want to divorce, fine. But don’t even think about getting anything from the Thorne family afterward. Weigh the consequences yourself. “I called you back today to tell you that Chloe will be joining the company next week. Keep an eye on her for me, and don’t let her run wild anymore.” Constantly using the inheritance to threaten people. What arrogant, self-righteous authority from a man in power. In his heart, he never truly intended to hand the Thorne family over to me anyway. I walked out of the study and stopped a passing servant. “Where is Arthur?” The servant hesitated for a moment, stammering that they saw the son-in-law and the Second Miss head to the third floor alone. That was Chloe’s bedroom. Perfect. I looked up at the empty staircase. This saved me the trouble of begging him for a divorce. 6 My ears were filled with deafening music. The dazzling lights turned the club into a world of intoxicating luxury. I drank in silence. Mia couldn’t stand watching me anymore. She reached out and snatched the glass I had just brought to my lips. “Even when your dad hit you, I’ve never seen your mood this bad. “I brought you here to relax, not to binge drink, Princess.” I remained silent, casually grabbing another glass of alcohol. Just then, a man approached to hit on me. Mia winked and gestured for me to seize the opportunity. The man sat right next to me, his hand resting on my waist slowly roaming as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow: “I’m married.” Mia tore down my defense: “Getting a divorce soon.” Hearing this, the man’s eyes turned suggestive, and he leaned in even closer. “Wives are more exciting.” His deliberately raspy “vocal fry” made me frown in disgust. Before I could lash out, the man suddenly screamed in agony. From behind the sofa, Arthur gripped the man’s arm, forcing him to stand up. His tone was bone-chilling. “Next time before you touch someone, think about how many hands you have left to chop off. “Get lost.” I was speechless. Was he auditioning for a mafia movie? The man cursed and fled. The atmosphere in our booth instantly became tense, with people stealing careful glances our way. I leaned back against the sofa, crossing my arms, and looked at Arthur. His expression was completely flat, his eyes dark, cruel, and unruly, slowly overlapping with the image of the boy from that hot, humid summer. “Elena, we aren’t divorced yet. Don’t let other men touch you.” Sure enough, no matter how well he pretended, his true nature was hard to hide. I didn’t expect him to remember me after comforting his true love. I must admit, I was almost touched. I shrugged: “It’s just a matter of time.” Arthur’s gaze was burning, his tone bordering on obsessive. “I won’t agree to it.” “Fine,” I smiled brightly, pointing at the dozens of shot glasses on the table. “If you finish all of those, I’ll tear up the divorce agreement.” I was certain Arthur wouldn’t drink them. Because he had a terrible alcohol tolerance. And he absolutely despised the drinking culture of the business world. In the two months since we got married, he had only been mad at me once. Because I drank myself into stomach bleeding at a business dinner. For that, a certain someone unilaterally gave me the cold shoulder for an entire day. Within five minutes, a crowd gathered around our booth to watch the show and cheer. Arthur’s face was flushed red, constantly pouring liquor down his throat. Glass after glass. His dark pupils reflected my stunned expression. Why on earth was he doing this?

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My neighbor, Brenda, worked late and asked if I could pick up her son, Timmy, along with my own kid from school. I didn’t think much of it. It was on my way, so I agreed. Who knew that just a few days later, her son would catch a cold, and she’d start bombarding my phone with texts. [My son definitely caught a cold on the ride home in your car. You need to take full responsibility.] [The medical bills are $500. From now on, we’re going to hire a private car service to drop him off, and you’re paying for that too. I’ll give you a discount, just send me $3,000.] I was so furious I immediately blocked her. She panicked, showed up at my office building with a giant protest banner, and started screaming that I harmed her son and was refusing to pay up. Without a second thought, I called the local psychiatric hospital: “Hello? My neighbor is suffering from a severe psychotic break. I really hope you can come take her in for treatment.” 1 That day, when I picked up my son, Leo, from school, he told me that Brenda’s kid, Timmy, had a fever and was taken to the hospital. They lived in the apartment building right across from ours, so I figured I’d put together a fruit basket and go check on him later. I was literally washing the fruit when my phone started blowing up with texts from Brenda. [Chloe, you are so incredibly malicious. I just asked you to pick up my son one time, and you actually made him catch a cold!] [Do you know how fragile my son’s health is?! Because of your negligence, my son is sick, and you must take full responsibility!] [If this leaves any lasting damage on his health, I’m never letting this go!] The next second, she sent me photos of Timmy’s hospital bills and test results. They had even done a CT scan of his brain. [You are paying for all his medical bills at the hospital. It totals $500. To make sure my child doesn’t get worse, you are going to hire a private car service to take him to and from school from now on. I won’t make you pay the full amount. I’ll give you a discount. Just Venmo me $3,000.] I stared at my phone, completely baffled. I had picked Timmy up four days ago. Plus, the temperature had dropped significantly lately; kids catching a cold was totally normal. I took a deep breath and replied: [Brenda, please calm down. I know you’re anxious because Timmy is sick. But you can’t just randomly push the blame onto me. You asked me for a favor, and I agreed because it was on my route. It’s been days, how can you possibly blame me?] Brenda stopped typing and just started sending voice memos, screaming at me. “What do you mean ‘randomly push the blame’?! My mom picked Timmy up the last two days, and there’s no way she let him get cold. She practically shields him with her own body! Colds have an incubation period. It was definitely your lack of care the day you picked him up that made him sick!” “Listen here, Chloe, don’t think you can weasel out of this. You are going to take full responsibility for my Timmy! I went through three years of IVF to have my precious baby boy! If he has any long-term effects from this cold, I will make you pay!” Lack of care? That day, I specifically turned the car heater on ahead of time and even brought a thermos of warm water for them. When we got to his building, his grandmother wasn’t home yet, so I didn’t even let him get out of the car. I stayed in the car with him and waited until his grandmother got back. I had gone above and beyond. Brenda saying this was incredibly insulting. [Brenda, you need to speak with a conscience. You asked for a favor, and I did my absolute best. Furthermore, the weather has been fluctuating wildly. It’s highly likely Timmy just caught a chill at your own house.] Brenda immediately started cursing: “Screw you! My entire family treats this boy like a prince. He only eats organic vegetables. From the day he was born, he hasn’t so much as sneezed! You take him in your car one time and he catches a cold. It’s obviously your fault! I’m telling you, you have to pay this money, otherwise, I am going to make your life a living hell!” She really was mentally ill. I replied: [I think Timmy isn’t the sick one here, you are! I was being nice by helping you pick up your kid, but no good deed goes unpunished. I don’t have time to argue with your delusions. Blocked!] After sending that, I blocked Brenda’s number. There was no reasoning with people like her. I handed the washed fruit to Leo. After this, I was going to cut all ties with her. But I never expected that the very next day, she would show up outside my office building with a massive protest banner. 2 I was in the middle of a meeting when I heard a commotion outside my office. Everyone was crowded around the floor-to-ceiling windows. My assistant ran in and said, “Bad news, Ms. Davis. There’s a woman downstairs with a banner claiming you harmed her son. Half the company is down there watching.” A woman? Could it be Brenda? I got up from my chair and looked down. Sure enough, it was Brenda. She had unfurled a massive banner right in front of the main entrance of our corporate building. It read: “CHLOE DAVIS HARMED MY SON AND REFUSES TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY. PEOPLE LIKE HER DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE!” She was holding a megaphone and screaming into it: “Chloe! Don’t think just because you blocked me I can’t do anything! I’m going to block the entrance to your company and make sure everyone sees exactly what kind of monster you are!” “You made my son sick, you refuse to pay his medical bills, and you won’t even apologize! Are you even human?!” The crowd of onlookers was growing. My assistant suggested I go down and handle it. I turned around, sat back in my chair, took out my phone, and called the local psychiatric hospital. “Hello? My neighbor is suffering from a severe psychotic break. I really hope you can come take her in for treatment.” Then I called the non-emergency police line: “Hi, there’s a mentally unstable person causing a disturbance outside our corporate building. Could you please send someone to handle it?” After making those two calls, I told everyone to sit back down so we could continue the meeting. But ten minutes later, Brenda’s screaming reached the executive floor. “Chloe! Don’t think you can hide from me! You are going to pay me for Timmy’s medical bills today! Also, even though Timmy is home, he needs to rest, so he can’t go to school for the next few days. I had to hire a private tutor, which costs $200 a day, until he’s fully recovered. On top of that, you have to pay for his nutritional supplements during this period. Just give me $5,000 for that.” “The weather is getting cold, and since he’s been sick, his immune system isn’t what it used to be. He definitely needs a private car service now. You’ll cover the first two months. Add all of that up, and you can just write me a check for $15,000.” Brenda was currently standing aggressively outside the conference room door. She had literally hung her banner on our glass door so everyone could see it. It was hilarious she could even say those words with a straight face. My best friend is a pediatrician, and she actually happened to be Timmy’s attending doctor. She told me Timmy just had a common cold with a slight fever. He was perfectly fine after getting some fluids that night. But Brenda refused to let him be discharged. She insisted he had “long-term effects” and dragged the poor kid through a full-body workup. Timmy was already tired from the cold, and all the unnecessary tests made him pass out from exhaustion. So, they kept him for one night for observation, but he was completely recovered now. Even then, Brenda threw a fit and refused to leave. The hospital director actually had to step in and have them escorted out. I scoffed coldly. “Your son is already home, which means he’s perfectly fine. Where do you get the nerve to demand this much money from me? Let me tell you right now, I am not giving you a single dime. Furthermore, I am currently in the middle of a very important business meeting. If you delay our company’s business, you will be held liable for the losses. Not much, just about $5 million.” When Brenda heard “$5 million,” her eyes bugged out. The next second, she spat at me. “Ptoey! You want me to pay you?! Keep dreaming! Right now, the most important thing is my son. My son is a future genius. His dream is to become a famous entrepreneur. He’s definitely going to be more successful than you! But now, because of the illness you gave him, his brain might be damaged, which means he might not become a famous entrepreneur! You have to take responsibility for that loss! Asking you for $15,000 is a bargain! Pay up right now!” 3 I just let out a cold laugh and didn’t bother replying. Seeing my indifferent attitude, she dramatically collapsed onto the floor and started wailing. “Look at this, everyone! This woman harmed my son and refuses to pay! Is there anyone more evil in this world?! I went through three years of IVF to have my son! What am I going to do if something happens to him?!” “Oh, my poor baby! You’re only in elementary school and you’ve already been poisoned by someone! What’s going to happen to your future?!” The way she was crying, you’d think her son had actually died. The people who had been watching downstairs had all migrated up to our floor. She was crying her lungs out. The onlookers were starting to look at me with increasingly unfriendly eyes, but since I was the General Manager, they didn’t dare say anything out loud. They just whispered among themselves. But wait, our building has security access. Who let her up here? While I was pondering this, my workplace nemesis, Sarah, walked over and started laying into me passive-aggressively. “Chloe, how can you be so malicious? You’re the General Manager; you should be setting an example. You’re a mother yourself. How could you harm someone else’s child? Children are a gift. Watch out, or karma is going to come for your own son.” Her lackeys immediately chimed in: “Vice President Sarah is right. Someone like this isn’t fit to be a General Manager. Who knows if she might harm us next!” Seeing someone take the lead, the crowd started speaking up: “I never expected GM Davis to be so vicious. You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” “That poor mother. GM Davis, hurry up and give her the money. Are you waiting to be struck by lightning?” “A child is a mother’s heart and soul. GM Davis really crossed the line here. I don’t think she’s qualified to be GM anymore. I think Sarah is a much better fit.” Hearing the praise, Sarah lifted her chin proudly. She stepped forward to help Brenda up, but she was still lecturing me. “Chloe, look how pitiful this mother is. Stop acting so high and mighty with your GM title. Don’t you have any sympathy?” I sneered. “If you have so much sympathy, why don’t you write her a check? It’s just $15,000. That’s nothing for a Vice President, right?” Sarah panicked. “Are you crazy, Chloe? You’re the one who harmed her kid. Why should I pay for you?! Everyone, don’t let her get away with this! We can’t stay silent just because her title is higher than ours! We have to bring her to justice!” At her rallying cry, the people around us started shouting: “Yeah! Give her the money! You’re both mothers, put yourself in her shoes!” “You’re a General Manager, don’t tell me you can’t afford $15,000.” Seeing everyone taking her side, Brenda cried even louder. “My poor baby! You were living such a happy life, and now this bitch made you sick! What if you have permanent side effects? Your whole life is ruined!” Sarah put on a show of holding Brenda’s hands. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, just tell us. I’ll take you to see the CEO. You can expose Chloe’s evil nature directly to him, and I guarantee she won’t survive in this company anymore.” Brenda, completely buying into it, started to follow her. Sarah thought I would be scared, but I had actually texted the CEO a long time ago. They hadn’t even taken two steps before they saw the CEO standing right there. He had witnessed everything that just happened. 4 Sarah immediately started sucking up to him. “Mr. CEO, look at this. Chloe hasn’t even been GM for that long, and she’s already brought this kind of scandal to our doorstep. It’s terrible for the company’s image. And look how pitiful this mother is. We’re all women, shouldn’t we be understanding of each other?” Brenda stepped forward and pointed a finger directly at the CEO. “Are you her boss? Then you need to make your employee pay me right now, or I’m going to expose you all online! Don’t blame me if your company’s reputation gets ruined.” Sarah chimed in: “Mr. CEO! We can’t let one bad apple like Chloe ruin our entire corporate image! I say we fire her immediately to set an example!” The CEO ignored Sarah and Brenda. Instead, he looked at me and said calmly, “Chloe, I’ll give you a chance to explain.” I calmly turned to Brenda. “You’ve been screaming for twenty minutes, but you still haven’t gotten to the point. What exactly did I do to make your son sick?” Brenda craned her neck and yelled, “He caught a cold!” The whispering in the crowd abruptly stopped. Even Sarah’s face changed. “My son hasn’t had a single fever since the day he was born! But 6 days ago, I had Chloe pick him up once, and yesterday he had a fever and was hospitalized! Isn’t that her fault?!” The more she spoke, the quieter the room got. Everyone was looking at Brenda like she was an absolute idiot. Gritting her teeth, Sarah stepped forward to salvage the situation. “A cold might be a minor thing, but if Chloe really caused it, she still needs to take responsibility.” Now Brenda was the one panicking. “My son catching a cold is NOT a minor thing! He’s going to go to an Ivy League school! One cold could impact his entire life! From the day he was born until now, that was the one night I wasn’t there to take care of him, and Chloe harmed him! You all have to give me justice!” Sarah finally realized that Brenda was a complete lunatic. She rolled her eyes and shut her mouth. The CEO turned to me. “Resolve this quickly, then come back to the meeting. You’re the only one who can handle this account.” With that, he turned and walked away without looking back. Sarah covered her face and tried to slip away, but I grabbed her arm. “Where are you going? I thought you were the champion of justice? Brenda is still waiting for you to get justice for her. You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?” Seeing Sarah trying to leave, Brenda grabbed her too. “You can’t leave! You promised you’d help me get justice! If you leave, I’ll expose you online too!” Sarah violently shook Brenda off. “Are you crazy?! A kid doesn’t die from catching a cold! I was trying to speak up for you, why are you coming after me?!” Brenda grabbed Sarah’s arm in a death grip, refusing to let her move. “What do you mean a kid doesn’t die from a cold?! My son had a fever of 99.5! And your CEO is gone, you’re the only Vice President left here! Who else am I supposed to talk to?! You spoke up for me, so you have to see this through! If Chloe won’t pay me, then I have to get it from you. It’s your fault for being her coworker.” Hearing this, I burst out laughing. Sarah had tried to use this opportunity to tear me down in front of the CEO, but ended up trapping herself instead. “Chloe! You started this mess! Fix it!” Sarah yelled. I mocked her. “Weren’t you going to bring me to justice? How can you say that? Brenda is waiting for you to preside over this.” Sarah was going insane. She yelled at her lackeys: “Are you all just going to stand there and watch?! Help me!” But everyone was terrified Brenda would latch onto them next. Nobody stepped forward to help Sarah; in fact, they all took several steps back.

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It started after school, right when the late afternoon sun hits the lockers and turns the dust motes into gold. The new transfer student cornered Hallie, blocking her path to the tutoring center where we’d spent every Tuesday since seventh grade. He spun her a story that sounded like it was ripped from a bad sci-fi novel. He told her he was a “Player” in a high-stakes simulation, and she was his “Objective.” If he failed to capture her heart, he said, his existence would be wiped. Deleted. Hallie believed him. From that day on, Hallie—the girl who color-coded her notes and dreamed of Stanford—vanished. In her place was someone who orbited him like a moon caught in a decaying gravity well. SATs, Ivy League dreams, the pact we made in middle school—she threw it all into the bonfire of his vanity. She didn’t know he was lying. She didn’t know that dating her wasn’t about destiny or survival. It was just a bet between him and his lacrosse buddies. They were gambling on a simple question: Which was stronger? The allure of a bright future, or the charm of a bad boy? 1 The tips of Hallie’s ears were burning a bright, tell-tale crimson. Her gaze darted between me and Cole, nervous and electric. It was the exact same look she’d worn in my previous life. “Hallie, if you’re busy, I’m heading out,” I said, my voice flat. I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned my back on them and started walking toward the bus loop. As I passed the metal trash can near the gym doors, I reached into my pocket, wrapped my fingers around the voice recorder I’d been clutching for twenty minutes, and dropped it inside. Clunk. Senior year was expensive. Time was currency. And I wasn’t going to waste another cent of it on them. In my last life, I had been on the roof of the science building practicing for AP French when I overheard Cole and his entourage. “Bagging Hallie Miller? The resident genius?” one of them had laughed. “Good luck, man. That girl breathes textbooks.” “Forget it,” another said. “She’s gunning for Harvard. She won’t look at you.” Cole had laughed then—a low, arrogant sound. “Let’s make it interesting. If I get her to wreck her future for me, you guys cover the senior trip to Cabo.” That day, I had taken the recording straight to Hallie. I expected her to be grateful. I expected her to wake up. Instead, not only did she stay with him, but I became the target of Cole’s wrath. He cornered me in the locker room showers, dumping buckets of filthy mop water over my head while his friends held the door. His voice was low, venomous. “Watch your mouth, Archer. Or I’ll make sure you’re eating through a straw during finals.” He made good on his threat. I missed my exams. My GPA tanked. And Cole? True to his word, he dumped Hallie the day before graduation. He put on a tragic performance, telling her he couldn’t let his “mission” destroy her potential. He claimed his life wasn’t worth her future. Hallie came finding me with eyes rimmed red from crying. She cornered me in the alley behind my house, her grip on my wrist painful and frantic. “Archer, you are disgusting,” she hissed. “I told you to stay out of it. Why did you go to my parents? Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?” “Now Cole is breaking up with me. Are you happy now?” I had stood there, stunned. I hadn’t told her parents anything. Before I could explain, she shoved me. Hard. My head cracked against the concrete. The world went white, then warm as blood soaked my collar. I grabbed the hem of her jeans, begging her to call 911. She just looked down at me, her face twisted in revulsion, and kicked my hand away. “Stop acting, Archer,” she spat. “I wouldn’t forgive you even if you died.” 2 The bus hissed and pulled away from the curb. Through the grimy window, I watched them. Hallie and Cole were wrapped around each other, kissing like the world was ending. My memory stretched back, elastic and painful. “Archer, we’re going to rule the Ivies. Deal?” “Yale or Harvard?” “Wherever you go. Just don’t leave me behind.” “Better start studying then, dreamer.” The girl who said those words—passionate, sincere, brilliant—was a ghost now. The crush I’d nursed for years had died in my previous life, somewhere between her watching Cole torment me and her lying to our teachers to protect him. From that day forward, Hallie and I fell into a silent agreement of estrangement. Even though we sat three desks apart, we were oceans away. The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. A familiar, lazy voice drifted from the back door. “Hallie-girl.” It was Cole. The classroom erupted in whispers. He leaned against the doorframe, crooked a finger at her, and smirked. His eyes were half-lidded, cat-like. He was wearing the oversized varsity jacket that belonged to the school’s star quarterback, but Hallie was wearing his hoodie. It swallowed her frame, a branding iron made of cotton. She blushed, immediately gathering her books. My desk mate, a girl named Sarah, dropped her jaw. She poked my shoulder, pointing at their interlaced fingers. “Archer, what is happening? Aren’t you and Hallie, like… childhood sweethearts or something?” She kept her voice down, but in the quiet room, it carried. Hallie froze near the door. Cole’s eyes flicked to me. “Hallie and I are just neighbors,” I said, loud enough for the back row to hear. I shoved my calculus worksheet toward Sarah. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to check your work. You messed up the integration on question three.” Sarah blinked, confused by my coldness. She looked at my eyes—steady, indifferent—and laughed nervously. “Wrong? Really? Show me.” By the door, the tension left Hallie’s shoulders. She tugged Cole’s hand, and they disappeared around the corner. The class exploded into chatter. The collision of high-stress academics and high-octane hormones was always messy. The room filled with words like “romantic,” “soulmates,” and “jealousy.” Even Sarah couldn’t help but speculate on who made the first move. I smiled at my paper and said nothing. Only I knew the truth: Cole was playing a game he had already won. His ante was a few months of his senior year. Hallie’s ante was her entire life. Luckily, it was no longer my problem. 3 Hallie and I were what the old folks called “sandbox sweethearts.” Our parents were best friends. We shared playpens, then tricycles, then study guides. From kindergarten through junior year, we were a package deal. Even in Northwood High, where the tracking system split friends up based on GPA, we stayed together in the Honors track. We tutored each other. We spent weekends in the silent section of the public library. We played duet piano at the talent show. If she was Valedictorian, I was Salutatorian, or vice versa. I was competitive; she was a perfectionist. Even socially, we matched. She was the homecoming princess type; I was the captain of the debate team—not a jock, but respected. I used to thank the universe for Hallie. She was my pacemaker, the rabbit I chased around the track. But that Hallie vanished the day Cole transferred in. He arrived at the start of senior year. His placement test scores were mediocre, so he wasn’t in our AP classes, but his name filtered through the hallways like smoke. He was beautiful in a way that signaled danger. Old money, new car, bad attitude. The moment he arrived, the spotlight shifted. The love notes that used to find their way into my locker were suddenly being redirected to his. Back then, stupidly, I had asked Hallie: “Who’s better looking? Me or the new guy?” She hadn’t looked me in the eye. She just stared at her sneakers, cheeks pink. “You guys are… different.” In hindsight, she was already gone. Cole was different. He was aiming for art school, or maybe just coasting on a trust fund. Compared to the boys in oversized hoodies and glasses, he looked like a catalogue model. He was the forbidden fruit in a garden of overachievers. So when he smiled that crooked smile and blocked her path, and she actually stopped walking… he had already won the game. 4 Cole’s story was ridiculous. He claimed to be a “conquest player.” He said the universe gave him a mission right before school started: Conquer Hallie Miller. He had to reach 100% “affection rating” by graduation, or he’d be “erased.” Hallie swallowed it whole. It didn’t matter that Cole had dated half the cheer squad at his old school. She believed she was the anomaly, the savior. In my last life, I had run to her, breathless, playing that recording. I warned her: “If Cole asks you out, it’s a bet. It’s a game. Don’t say yes.” The result? She dove headfirst into the fire. When she first threatened to drop the National Chemistry Olympiad to hang out with him, I tried again. “A mission? A simulation? Hallie, listen to yourself. You’re smarter than this.” That was the turning point. I went from friend to obstacle. I missed the Olympiad myself because Cole locked me in a supply closet. When I found Hallie, bruised and desperate, she looked at me with cold, dead eyes. “I told you to mind your own business, Archer.” “If it weren’t for me asking Cole to go easy on you, you’d have lost a lot more than a chemistry test.” Her tolerance gave Cole permission to escalate. The bullying became a daily ritual. The final time, when he dumped trash over me in the bathroom, I went to the administration. They called our parents. I never mentioned Hallie. I just wanted it to stop. But Hallie? She went to the principal and my parents. She spun a narrative that I was the aggressor—that I was jealous of Cole stealing my thunder, that I was spreading rumors to smear him. She paraded a dozen of Cole’s friends as witnesses. Between the false testimonies and Cole’s father threatening to sue the school district, the principal caved. I was branded the jealous, vindictive liar. I was isolated. The bell for the next period rang, snapping me back to the present. This time, I didn’t text Hallie to remind her about the Chemistry Olympiad registration. My future was supposed to be bright. And this time, it would be. 5 I didn’t expect the collapse to happen so fast. Not only did Hallie skip the Chemistry Olympiad, but she also transferred out of the AP track. She bombed the placement exam on purpose, leaving half the answer sheet blank. I was in the faculty office asking Mr. Henderson about a recommendation letter when I heard him grilling her. “Hallie, think about this,” Henderson pleaded. “Kids kill themselves studying to get into these classes. You’re throwing away a golden ticket. Is it worth it?” Hallie pressed her lips into a thin line, silent. On Henderson’s desk sat a glass mason jar. It was filled with hundreds of tiny, hand-folded paper stars. “Teenage romance is… powerful,” Henderson sighed, rubbing his temples. “I can’t tell you who to date. But I can tell you this: some choices don’t have a ctrl-z button.” He looked pained. His hands shook slightly. He reminded me of the teachers in my last life who saw me bleeding but were too afraid of a lawsuit to help. “I won’t regret it,” Hallie said. Her eyes lit up with a terrifying, manic joy. She grabbed the jar of stars—her offering to Cole—and bolted from the room like she’d been given a pardon. Henderson sat there for a long time before picking up the phone to call her parents. Hallie was the school’s pride. “God’s Favorite,” we used to joke. If she wanted to learn piano, she was playing Mozart in six months. If she picked up a paintbrush, she won awards. Academics were breathing to her. I used to stay up until 3:00 AM just to keep pace with her natural brilliance. I used to tell her, “God didn’t just open a door for you; he tore down the whole wall.” She would knock on my head and say, “That means you just have to run faster, Archer.” Now, she was bricking up the wall herself, just to sit in the rubble with Cole. When I got back to class, her desk was empty. She was gone. According to Sarah, Hallie dropped the class because Cole was “insecure” about our history. He didn’t like the rumors that we were the school’s power couple. So, to prove her loyalty, she severed the academic tie. Irony is a cruel mistress, though: even with her self-sabotage, she didn’t test low enough to get into Cole’s remedial classes. But that didn’t stop the public display of affection. 6 Hallie’s parents flew back from Chicago in a panic. They had been working double shifts in another state to fund her college savings. They thought their daughter was on autopilot to the Ivy League. When they stood in the principal’s office, they looked like they’d been hit by a truck. The shock wasn’t just the grades. It was the truancy. Hallie and Cole had been skipping school for three days. They spent nights at internet cafes gaming; they hustled pool at dive bars; they used fake IDs to get into clubs, dancing until dawn in a haze of dry ice and cheap cologne. They were burning their futures to keep warm. It took three days for her parents to track her down. When Hallie walked into the office, she looked different. Her sleek, natural hair was permed into wild waves and dyed a shocking platinum blonde. She was holding Cole’s hand, her chin tilted up in defiance. “Mom, Dad. Why are you here?” she asked, her voice light, almost bubbly. “Perfect timing. I want you to meet my boyfriend, Cole.” Her dad turned purple. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Her mom, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, looked at Cole’s smug face and snapped. She stepped forward and swung. Slap. Hallie threw herself in front of Cole. The slap caught her square on the cheek. “Mom! Are you crazy?” Hallie shrieked, clutching her face. “I told you he’s my boyfriend! You can’t just hit people!” She was trembling with rage, defending the predator from the protector. Her mom burst into tears and ran out of the room. Her dad gave Hallie a look of pure devastation—a look that said I don’t know you anymore—and chased after his wife. Cole? He just took a calm step back. He didn’t even help her up. I arrived with my paperwork just in time to see Hallie scramble off the floor. She brushed the dust off her jeans and immediately curled into Cole’s side, uncaring of the audience. “It’s okay, Cole,” she whispered, stroking his chest. “My parents will come around. Don’t worry.” Cole turned his face toward me. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mockery. It was the exact same look from the locker room in my past life. But this time, I didn’t feel fear. I just felt… bored. 7 I walked out of the office, but Hallie was waiting for me. She grabbed my sleeve and dragged me toward the stairwell leading to the roof. Up there, the wind was whipping around. Cole was leaning against the parapet, smoking a cigarette. “You called them,” Hallie said. Ice cold. “No,” I said. She didn’t believe me. I sighed, stepping back to put distance between us. “Hallie, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I was in the office for my own business. I don’t care about your little rebellion.” I looked past her, straight at Cole. “And you,” I said to the boy who had killed me in another life. “I don’t care about your game. I have zero interest in Hallie. She’s all yours.” Cole’s smirk deepened. He walked over and draped an arm around Hallie’s shoulders. “Easy, tiger. She’s your childhood friend. No need to be so cold.” He looked at Hallie. “Archer is pretty impressive. Gold medal in the Science Fair? Probably a lock for Stanford.” He paused, fake guilt washing over his face. “Babe, didn’t you miss the qualifiers because I had that stomach ache? If it weren’t for me, you’d be the one getting scouted.” He was testing her. Look, I cost you your future. Do you still love me? Hallie stiffened, but only for a second. Then she glared at me. “Archer, stop acting superior,” she snapped. “It’s just a gold medal. If I had competed, you wouldn’t have even placed.” “And listen to me: Stay out of my life. We are neighbors. That’s it. Don’t let me catch you snitching to my parents again.” “We…” I clenched my fists at my sides. The girl in front of me was a stranger wearing my best friend’s face. “There is no ‘we,’ Hallie,” I cut in. “I don’t know you. We’re neighbors. Got it?” 8 Cole was wrong about one thing. I hadn’t secured a spot at Stanford yet. The Gold Medal was good, but it wasn’t a guarantee for the National Team. And Hallie was wrong, too. Even if she had competed, she might not have won. The world is full of geniuses. In my last life, I was so busy trying to be her safety net that I never saw how big the ocean really was. I died a frog in a well. This time, I was climbing out. I left the roof as the bell rang. I ran back to class, leaving them behind. Through the window, I saw them running across the football field, hand in hand, bathed in the golden sunset. They looked picturesque. They looked like trash. Garbage belongs in the bin, but unfortunately, these two couldn’t be recycled together. Because it was all fake. Cole had actually approached me a week ago. I overheard him bragging to his friends in the locker room about the “conquest.” He knew I heard. That was why he bullied me in the first life—to silence the witness. This time, when he cornered me, I looked him in the eye and said: “I didn’t hear anything. And frankly, I don’t care. Do whatever you want, just don’t impact my GPA.” He had laughed, surprised. “Smart kid.” Of course I was smart. I was just saving my energy for the finale. I wanted to see the look on Hallie’s face the day before graduation.

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On graduation night, the college underclassman who had been chasing me for six months got me dead drunk and tricked me into bed. But when I woke up, he smiled and told me: “You didn’t just sleep with me last night.” Immediately after, photos of me in bed with a group of strange, middle-aged men went viral all over the internet. The caption read: “Shared sugar baby, employed right upon graduation.” I went to confront him, only to be met with his icy, venomous words: “Isn’t your mother’s favorite hobby being a homewrecker? As her daughter, it’s only natural you surpass her.” The night my mom saw the trending hashtag, she was so furious and devastated that she suffered a massive stroke. When she woke up, her cognitive abilities were permanently stuck at the age of eight. To keep my mom alive, I became the reigning queen of pole dancing at a local nightclub. Eight years later, twisting my waist under the blinding neon lights, I looked up—and saw those familiar eyes sitting in the VIP booth. …… I was sweating profusely on stage. As my inner thighs gripped the rapidly spinning metal pole, the friction burned like fire. It had been eight years, but my skin still hadn’t adapted to the brutal friction. But I didn’t dare stop. Every cheer from the crowd below could turn into cash, and that cash would turn into my mom’s specialty medication tomorrow. Spin. Invert. Split. Right as I executed a high-difficulty backward drop, my gaze slammed violently into a pair of eyes in the crowd. My movements faltered, and I plummeted straight down from the ten-foot pole. “Bang!” I hit the hard floor solidly, a piercing agony shooting up from my ankle. Boos erupted from the crowd, mixed with vulgar, mocking laughter. “What the hell was that?!” “If you can’t dance, get off the damn stage!” Rick, the floor manager, rushed up in a panic. He bowed and apologized to the crowd while violently yanking me to my feet, hissing through gritted teeth: “Chloe! Do you have a fucking death wish?!” “Do you know how many people are watching tonight? If you ruin this club’s reputation, can you afford to pay for it?!” I clutched my rapidly swelling ankle, trembling from the pain. I looked up toward the VIP booth again, but the familiar eyes I had just seen were gone. Had I imagined it? “What are you standing around for? Get the hell backstage!” Rick’s scolding snapped me back to reality. I gritted my teeth and limped off the stage. Back in the messy dressing room, I had barely sat down when a waiter pushed the door open and threw a cold sentence at me: “Rick said you caused a major accident tonight. Your entire pay for the shift is docked.” “What?” I jerked my head up, my heart plummeting. “All of it? But my mom has physical therapy the day after tomorrow!” Getty Images Khám phá I grabbed the waiter’s arm, my voice laced with begging. “Can you please help me beg Rick? I promise I’ll be careful next time, it will never happen again!” The waiter shook off my hand with a look of disgust. “Begging won’t help. He’s pissed.” “Besides, you’re the one who messed up on stage. Who else is there to blame?” He turned and left, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I collapsed back into my chair, the throbbing in my ankle mixing with the sheer panic in my chest. Therapy bills, medication costs, rent… a mountain of bills swirled in my head, suffocating me. If I didn’t get paid tonight, my mom’s therapy would have to be delayed. Just as I was drowning in despair, the dressing room door opened. Rick walked in, his face slightly softer than before. “Chloe, come with me. The guests in the Diamond Room specifically requested you for a private show. Double pay.” My heart skipped a beat. I knew exactly what a private show entailed. A closed door, expensive alcohol, and hands that didn’t care about boundaries. I had always avoided them like the plague. But thinking of my mom’s therapy bills, thinking of the debt collectors, I hesitated. “What? You don’t want to?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “That’s fine. But don’t expect your base salary this month either.” “I’ll go.” I gritted my teeth. I had already fallen this far. What right did I have to be picky? Rick smiled in satisfaction. “That’s more like it. You’re already in this line of work, why pretend to be some pure saint?” “Hurry up and change. Don’t keep the guests waiting.” I dug a conservative black slip dress out of my locker, wrapped a thin cardigan over it, and followed Rick down the hall to the Diamond Room. Pushing the door open, Rick immediately slapped on a sycophantic smile: “Marcus, I brought her. This is our top girl, Chloe.” I followed Rick’s gaze, trying to force a polite smile, but my eyes instantly froze. Sitting in the center of the plush leather sofa was the exact face I had seen from the stage. Liam Vance. I hadn’t imagined it. Eight years had passed, and he was no longer the green, lovesick college underclassman who used to follow me around. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his features were sharp and composed, exuding the untouchable aura of an A-list Hollywood actor. And I had become a cheap nightclub pole dancer. The humiliation lasted only a second before I shoved my emotions down. The current me didn’t have the luxury of pride. Following Rick’s instructions, I stepped onto the small stage in the center of the room and began moving to the music. I kept a flattering smile plastered on my face, even as sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them painfully. When the song ended, sparse applause echoed in the room. Liam, who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time, finally opened his mouth. His voice dripped with bone-chilling mockery: “Chloe. Eight years later, and you’ve really come up in the world.” The room went dead silent. The men beside him immediately noticed the tension and asked with amused curiosity: “Liam, do you know her?” Liam picked up his glass of red wine, his gaze sweeping over me with contempt. “Not really. We just went to the same college. I had the privilege of hearing all about her ‘glorious exploits’ back then.” He placed a heavy, loaded emphasis on the words glorious exploits. The men around him immediately exchanged knowing, dirty laughs. “Well, since she’s an old alum of our famous leading man, shouldn’t she give us a real show?” A man with a thick gold chain jeered: “Do a striptease for us! Liven things up!” My body went rigid, all the color draining from my face. “I’m sorry… I… I don’t do that kind of dance.” “Don’t do it?” The gold-chain man scoffed. “You work at a club, stop acting like a prude! Dance well, and we’ll reward you.” He pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and slammed it onto the glass table. The others followed suit. Soon, a small mountain of cash piled up on the table. Under the dim, hypnotic lights, that money radiated a filthy, irresistible allure. In my mind, I saw the hospital’s overdue notices, my mom’s innocent, childlike eyes, and the impatient voices of the nurses. As the seconds ticked by, the anticipation in the room soured into impatience. “Are you gonna strip or not? If not, get the hell out!” someone shouted. Liam just sat there, leisurely sipping his wine. He was the high-and-mighty spectator, and I was the meat on the chopping block, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms that the pain was the only thing keeping me conscious. I gave a slow, barely perceptible nod. The music started again, a heavier, more suggestive beat. I reached up and pulled out my hair tie, letting my long hair cascade down my back. Then, with trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper on the side of my dress. The sound of the metal teeth sliding down was quiet but deafening to my ears. The dress slipped off my shoulders, revealing the thin black lace bra underneath. The AC was blasting, raising a field of goosebumps across my bare skin. I moved mechanically, instinctively trying to cover myself with my arms, which only earned louder, more excited catcalls. Just as my trembling hands reached around to unhook my bra— “That’s enough,” Liam said, his brow furrowed in deep disgust. Every sound and movement in the room stopped instantly. I stood frozen on the stage, the half-removed dress hanging off the crook of my arm. He stood up, looking down at me as if I were a cockroach. “A dog really can’t change its nature. You’re exactly like your mother. As long as there’s money, you’ll spread your legs for anyone.” With that, he turned and walked out. The heavy door slammed shut behind him. With Liam gone, the rest of the men lost their interest. They grabbed their coats, preparing to leave. I hastily pulled my dress back up, wrapping my cardigan tightly around myself, standing awkwardly with my head bowed. Before leaving, Producer Marcus Thorne suddenly approached me. He shoved a business card down the front of my dress, his breath reeking of expensive liquor. “Miss Chloe, right? You’ve got a spectacular body, and you know how to move it.” He leaned in, his eyes wandering sleazily over my chest. “I’m casting a new project. We need actors willing to be… bold. Create some truly ‘artistic’ adult films.” “If you’re interested, give me a call. The pay is highly negotiable.” The door clicked shut. The room was finally empty. I looked up and numbly wiped a tear from my cheek. I walked over to the table and picked up the scattered hundred-dollar bills, gently smoothing out their creases, stacking them neatly. I counted them twice. It was exactly $5,500. I did the math in my head. My mom’s specialty meds for next month—the best imported brand—cost $1,200 a vial. I could buy four vials right now. That left $700. Winter was coming, and last year she kept complaining her feet were cold. I could buy her a thick pair of UGG boots and a warm down jacket. The radiator in our apartment was always breaking. When I looked at it that way… tonight was actually completely worth it. It was just being looked at, touched a few times, and enduring insults I’d already heard a thousand times over. I survived it. Compared to the cold, merciless numbers on a hospital bill, what was a little lost dignity? I pushed myself up on my numb knees, carefully stashing the thick wad of cash into my bag. As I turned to leave, my peripheral vision caught the business card lying on the edge of the carpet. I stopped at the doorway, my hand resting on the freezing doorknob. The doctor had told me there was a specialized neuro-hospital in New York that could completely cure my mom’s cognitive damage. But the surgery cost was astronomical: $100,000. To me, it was an impossible sum. What kind of “film” could Marcus Thorne possibly want me for? Obviously, it was going to be cheap, degrading, explicit trash. But if shooting one film meant I could walk away with $100,000, what did I have left to lose? My body had already been ruined and dirtied eight years ago, hadn’t it? What difference did it make if it got a little dirtier? As long as I got that $100,000. I took a deep breath, turned around, walked back, and picked up the business card. A week later, I arrived at the address Marcus had given me. It was a secluded mansion up in the hills. There were barely any crew members—maybe three people total. Marcus greeted me with a sleazy smile, saying we needed to do a “costume test” first. His assistant handed me an outfit made of translucent mesh that barely qualified as lingerie. It covered almost nothing. Marcus directed the shoot himself, barking orders for me to strike degrading, provocative poses. “Arch your back… stick it out.” “Look up, drop the strap off your shoulder.” The blinding studio lights hit my skin, and my first instinct was to cross my arms over my chest. “Put your hands down. Act natural.” “Yeah, turn around, dip your waist lower… part your legs a little more.” “The eyes, give me bedroom eyes! Look at the lens and imagine you’re desperate for it…” I was a puppet with its strings cut, mindlessly contorting into whatever suggestive positions he demanded. I swallowed my nausea and just kept repeating the number in my head: One hundred thousand… One hundred thousand… Once I got this money, my mom could have her surgery. After the shoot, Marcus personally walked me to the door. The moment I stepped out of the mansion, I bumped right into Liam, who was walking out holding a woman’s hand. When he saw me, he froze dead in his tracks. Marcus quickly stepped forward with an obsequious grin. “Liam! What a coincidence, what brings you to the hills?” Liam ignored him. His eyes were locked onto me, staring with an intensity that felt like he was trying to flay me alive. The woman beside him broke the silence, her voice soft and polite. “Hello, Marcus.” “And who might this be?” Marcus asked. Liam finally broke his stare, his tone softening as he introduced her: “This is Audrey. My fiancée.”

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My brother was widely recognized as a great hero. In an operation to protect a hostage, he was stabbed multiple times by a criminal. At his memorial service, people poured in from all over the city to pay their respects. The hall was filled with the sound of weeping. My mom fainted from the grief and had to be carried away by paramedics for emergency care. I was his favorite younger sister. But right now, staring fixedly at his black-and-white memorial photo, I suddenly let out a laugh. Because my brother was currently sitting right in front of the altar with his legs spread wide, cursing up a storm: “How could you guys use my raw, unedited photo?! Chloe, you need to change it! Right! Now!” 1 The host was reading the solemn eulogy, detailing his heroic deeds in life. “Carter Miller. When faced with a deranged attacker, he voluntarily stepped forward and offered to trade himself for the hostage. Unexpectedly, the attacker was triggered by a bystander’s shout and lunged straight for the young child’s left thigh. In that critical moment, Carter was the first to dive forward, shielding the child in his arms. He took five stab wounds, every single one fatal…” The entire hall was solemn. A sea of people dressed in black packed the room. The sound of crying came in waves, one after another. My mom hadn’t been able to take it and had fainted. I was now the only family member left standing in the receiving line. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of sympathy, pity, and regret. “He sacrificed his life at the young age of twenty-seven,” the host concluded. I gave a side-eye to Carter himself. He was hovering off to the side, legs crossed, pointing an accusing finger at his memorial portrait. “Chloe! Are you trying to piss me off to death?! Oh wait, I’m already dead!” “I told you a million times, if I ever die, you MUST use my Facetuned photo!” “I used half a can of hair gel before I left the house that day! I maintained my image until the very end of my life, and you guys picked an unedited, raw photo for my funeral?!” He was spitting invisible saliva everywhere as he ranted. Only I could see him. I tried to hold it in, but I failed. My mouth twitched, and a short, abrupt laugh escaped my lips. “Pfft.” In a mourning hall filled with wailing, the sound was incredibly jarring. Everyone snapped their heads up in shock, staring at me in disbelief. Her biological brother is dead, and the sister is laughing at his funeral? It was an absurd scene. “Cough… cough…” I immediately pretended to have a violent coughing fit. Standing next to me was my brother’s best friend and colleague, Liam Hayes. His eyes were bloodshot, and he turned to look at me too. I quickly lowered my head and pinched my own thigh as hard as I could. It hurt so much that tears instantly sprang to my eyes. “Cough… cough, cough, cough!” I kept up the coughing act. “I… I’m just so heartbroken… I choked on my own breath…” A deeper look of heartache flashed through Liam’s eyes. Carter floated right up to my face. That semi-transparent visage was full of indignation, and he started whining to me like a brat. “Hey, my dear sister, I’m the main character today! Can’t you grant me this one tiny request? Besides, look down there—my high school crush is sitting in the third row!” I didn’t dare look up at him. I kept my head bowed, my shoulders trembling. Everyone thought I was sobbing uncontrollably. In reality, I was fighting for my life trying not to laugh. A hand rested gently on my shoulder. It was Liam. His voice was thick with emotion. “Chloe, if you need to cry, just let it out. Don’t hold it in…” 2 “Liam, you sneaky bastard, get your filthy paws off my sister’s shoulder!” “My body isn’t even cold yet, and you’re trying to make a move on my sister?!” “And what was that? Were you trying to give her a comforting head pat? I’m telling you, no way in hell!” While Carter threw a fit at Liam, he turned his head and yelled at me. “Chloe! You’re heartless too!” “I left you hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hero’s compensation fund, and you’re laughing at my funeral?!” I took a deep breath, looked up at Liam, and tried to look as devastated as possible. “Liam, I’m fine.” “But could you… do me a favor?” Liam immediately stood up straight. “Name it. I’d walk through fire for you.” I pointed at the memorial photo. “Can we change it?” Liam froze, needing a moment to process. “Change it? To what?” I gritted my teeth. “Change it to the one from his vacation in Miami. The one on the beach with the sunglasses.” Liam’s expression cycled through shock and grief a few hundred times in a single second. “The one where he’s wearing the hideous floral shirt, board shorts, and giving the camera the middle finger?!” He probably thought I had lost my mind. “Chloe… this picture we’re using is the most… dignified one your brother had.” “This is a formal memorial service. The mayor is here. The police chief is here…” “Screw dignified!” Carter was jumping up and down in frantic anger. “I don’t want dignified! I want to look hot!” I stared directly into Liam’s eyes, my tone dead serious. “I don’t care. It needs to be changed right now. My brother told me this is his one and only dying wish.” Liam reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, then touched his own. “No fever. Have you actually lost your mind?” “My brother also said that if you don’t help him change it, he’ll visit everyone in your office in their dreams tonight. He’s going to tell them how you steal a roll of toilet paper from the company bathroom every day before you go home, and how you used the company’s color printer to print four massive SAT prep books for your nephew!” Liam stared at me with wide eyes, looking like he had literally just seen a ghost. “How… how do you know about that?” “Only your brother and I knew about that!” I kept a perfectly straight face. “Exactly. Because my brother just told me.” 3 The photo didn’t get changed in the end. After all, Carter’s actions as a heroic bystander had made headlines across the entire city. The mayor was there. The press was there. There was no way Liam or I had the guts to swap the memorial portrait for a guy in a floral shirt flipping the bird. Carter was so pissed he didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. He just floated up to the ceiling beams, dangling his legs and looking completely dead inside. It wasn’t until that night that he finally broke. I was sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, peeling an orange. Carter squatted next to me, staring longingly at the orange, and swallowed hard. It used to be his favorite fruit. “Just give me one slice. Just one.” He held out his hand. I peeled off a slice and handed it to him. The slice of orange passed right through his palm and hit the floor. Carter froze for a second, then his face crumpled into a grimace. “Forgot. I can’t eat this stuff anymore. When you visit my grave next week, leave some for me so I can absorb the essence.” I suddenly didn’t feel like talking. I picked up the fallen slice, blew the dust off it, and popped it into my mouth. It was a little sour. The tears I hadn’t shed over the past few days suddenly fell all at once. “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t cry!” Carter panicked, clumsily trying to wipe my tears. His fingers passed right through my cheeks, leaving behind a faint, icy chill. “It’s just an orange! I don’t even want it anymore, okay?” The hospital room door opened, and a nurse walked out. “Your mother is awake. You can go in now.” I wiped my eyes and pushed the door open. My mom lay on the bed, her face ashen. She looked like she had aged ten years in the span of a few days. The moment she saw me, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and soaked into her pillow. “Chloe, your brother… is he really gone?” “Tell me… how much did it hurt him?” Carter reached out, wanting to hold Mom’s hand. But his hand passed right through the blanket, right through her skin, grasping nothing but air. It only left behind a draft of cold wind. My mom shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Why is it so cold…” “He must have felt so cold when he left us.” Muttering to herself, my mom broke down into devastating sobs. Tears streamed through her fingers as she covered her face. Realizing he had only made it worse, Carter quickly pulled his hand back, looking completely lost. His eyes turned red, and he turned to me. “Chloe! Tell Mom I’m right here! Tell her it didn’t hurt! Tell her I’m doing great!” “Those stabs were so fast I didn’t even have time to process it before I died! It really didn’t hurt!” Mom couldn’t hear him. She only saw me standing there with a numb expression, staring into space (at Carter). The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a crowd of relatives swarmed in. Uncle Dave sighed. “Chloe, this family is going to have to rely on you from now on.” “That’s right,” Aunt Sarah chimed in. “Your brother was a hero. You’re a hero’s sister. You can’t let him down.” Suddenly, Aunt Brenda lowered her voice. “Carter died a hero. That compensation fund from the city must be a massive payout, right? You two are just a widow and a young girl now. You need to keep it safe. Don’t let outsiders scam you out of it.” My mom was still crying, completely oblivious to what was being said. I glared at my aunt. What was she trying to pull? Carter floated right up to Aunt Brenda’s face, circling her and yelling in her ear. “That money is for my sister and my mom! When my dad died, you completely dodged the fifteen grand you owed him! Pay us back! Pay us back! Pay us back!” I asked her coldly, “Aunt Brenda, what exactly are you trying to do?” “Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? I’m just looking out for you!” “Think about it. Your brother is gone, your mom’s health is failing. Is it really safe for a young girl like you to be holding onto such a massive sum of money?” “What if some bad guy tricks you out of it?” “What I’m saying is, let your Aunt Brenda hold onto it for you. I’ll invest it. When you get married, I’ll give it back to you as your dowry…” Carter let out a furious laugh. “Bullshit! I traded my life for that money, and you’re already scheming to steal it?!” I scoffed out loud. “Hold onto it for me? You mean put it toward the down payment for your son’s new house?” Aunt Brenda’s face changed. “Watch your mouth, young lady! I am your elder!” Carter hovered right in front of her, pointing at her nose. “Elder my ass! You think because there are fewer people in our family now, you can just throw away all your shame?!” Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave stepped in, shielding my mom from Aunt Brenda. “Brenda, give it a rest. Carter just passed away. If you had an ounce of conscience, you wouldn’t be bringing this up right now.” My mom went limp again, unable to speak, sinking back into the mattress. Seeing my mom stay silent, Aunt Brenda grew even bolder. She actually reached for the purse sitting on the nightstand. “Martha, the bank cards are in here, right? What’s the PIN? We’re family, it’s not like I’d ever hurt you.” Rage rushed to my head. I shoved Aunt Brenda hard. Taking advantage of the push, Aunt Brenda dramatically threw herself onto the floor and started throwing a massive tantrum. “Ouch! She hit me! A niece hitting her elder!” “Carter is dead, you have no one to back you up anymore! It was bad enough you guys were stingy before, but now you dare bully your poor relatives?!” “I can’t live like this!” Carter was shaking with absolute fury. For the past few days, he had been entirely semi-transparent, but right now, a faint red glow began to emanate from his form. His body was slowly becoming more substantial. “Trying to touch my sister? Over my dead body!” Aunt Brenda’s cursing grew even more vicious on the floor. “That short-lived brat Carter! Did he forget his dad died trying to be a hero too?! I told him a million times to mind his own business!” “Look what happened! Threw his life away!” “Serves him right!” “He’s just cursed! A curse to his parents!” Before she could finish her sentence. Smash! A loud crash echoed through the room. The water glass on the nightstand had seemingly thrown itself onto the floor, shattering right next to Aunt Brenda’s feet. I watched as Carter rushed to the window and began furiously gesturing at the tightly locked latch. Even though he couldn’t touch physical objects, everywhere he moved left behind a trail of freezing air. And perhaps fueled by his explosive rage… Bang! Whoosh! The window violently flew open. Freezing wind howled into the room. The overhead lights began to flicker wildly. On and off. On and off. Aunt Brenda’s wailing stopped instantly. She stared in horror at the window that had opened by itself. She was sitting far away from it, yet she felt a bone-chilling draft blowing directly onto the back of her neck. Because Carter was hovering directly behind her, his face dark as thunder, intentionally flying back and forth through her body. “Aunt Brenda… is the money you leached from our family fun to spend?” “Keep talking trash, and I’ll visit your house every single night to terrorize you!” “Aunt Brenda, I’m so cold… how about I borrow some of your life force to warm up…” Aunt Brenda couldn’t hear him, but she started shivering uncontrollably. She instinctively grabbed her own neck, her teeth chattering loudly. I stared at her with ice in my eyes. “Aunt Brenda, are you cold? My brother is standing right behind you.” “He says if anyone dares to target me and my mom, he’ll take my cousin down to hell to keep him company.” “After all, he died with a lot of resentment.” Aunt Brenda screamed in sheer terror. She scrambled off the floor on her hands and knees and bolted out of the hospital room. “GHOST!!!” Peace returned to the room. The lights stabilized. Aunt Sarah tucked the blankets tightly around my mom and turned to me. “Chloe, don’t worry. You’re the sister of a hero now. They won’t dare try anything.” Uncle Dave nodded in agreement. “Exactly. If you ever have trouble, you call me. I’ll bring your two cousins over, and we’ll see if she tries to use force on you!” I gave a bitter, strained smile. “What hero’s sister? I’m not that noble. My brother was just a guy working a nine-to-five. If I had a choice, I would have rather he been a coward!” Carter looked as if he had expended every ounce of his energy. He had become even more transparent than before. He collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. My heart tightened. While Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave were busy comforting my mom, I lowered my voice and whispered. “Carter! Are you okay?” Between gasps, Carter squeezed out a few words. “I’m fine… just suddenly felt really tired. Lost my steam.” “Was that cool just now?” “Did I give off main-character-in-a-horror-movie vibes?” I rolled my eyes at him. Uncle Dave and Aunt Sarah slipped a silver coin under my mom’s pillow. It was an old family superstition—putting a silver coin under a sick person’s pillow would help them recover faster. Carter gathered his strength, floated back over to my mom, and gave her an invisible hug. Watching his futile gestures made my chest ache. I turned and walked out of the room to fill the thermos with hot water. Carter followed me, floating right by my ear, whispering secretively. “Chloe, let me tell you a secret. I have a secret stash of money!” “Go home and look under the insoles of the autographed sneakers on my display shelf. There’s a debit card there. The PIN is your birthday. I was saving up to buy you a car, but I guess it won’t be enough now.” “Go take it out. Buy Mom a nice massage chair first.” “Use the rest to get yourself some spa treatments. Look how haggard you’ve gotten these past few days, tsk tsk. You’re a hero’s sister now, you need to look beautiful when you cry for the cameras.” I held the thermos, gripping the edge of the sink. “Carter, shut up.” “What? What’s with the attitude!” Carter floated next to me, playing with the steam rising from the hot water. “Why haven’t you moved on?” I turned to look at him, at his childishly playful profile. “They say if a spirit still has lingering attachments, they can’t move on.” “Carter, what is your lingering attachment?” 4 My brother froze. His usual goofy grin flickered in the air for a second. His eyes darted around, and he leaned back in mid-air, shoving his face close to mine with exaggerated dramatic flair. “Oh no! You caught me!” “Of course I have one! That anime I was watching—the author is dragging it out so much, I never got to see the finale!” I curled my lip and rolled my eyes. “Just because of that?” Carter righted himself, doing a half-twirl in the air. “Well… obviously there’s more than that!” He cleared his throat, pointed a finger at me, and started lecturing. “The main reason is you!” “Me?” “Duh! Look at what a mess you are!” Carter drifted back a bit to look me up and down. “Chloe, look at yourself. You’re a young woman in her twenties, and you haven’t washed your hair in days, have you?” “And this outfit—I don’t remember you owning a gray hoodie? Wait, is that your white hoodie, just stained with a layer of grime?” He dramatically covered his nose. “How can I, a remarkably handsome and dashing brother, rest in peace knowing I have such a slob for a sister?” If this were the past, I would have already taken off my shoe and hurled it at his head. He would have yelled playfully while catching my weapon with one hand, looking incredibly smug about it. I looked down at the hoodie I was wearing. It really was filthy. “Chloe? Hello! Did you go mute?” “Alright, alright… I’m not actually judging you. I just think… you need to pull yourself together.” His voice grew quieter. “Carter, did you forget you don’t even have a physical body anymore?” I snapped back at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want, and I’ll wash my hair whenever I want. Try and force me to wash it, I dare you.” Hearing me snap at him, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief. “Heh! You little brat. Give you an inch and you take a mile.” “Carter, if you hadn’t jumped in to take that knife… would you regret it?” Carter suddenly fell quiet. After a long time, he rubbed his nose and offered a strained smile. “Regret it? Yeah, of course I’d regret it.” “When the first knife went in, it really fucking hurt.” “I was thinking, my little Chloe isn’t even married yet. Mom hasn’t gotten to hold a grandchild yet. I barely even got to wear those sneakers I saved up forever to buy…” “But, you know…” He shrugged. “That kid was right behind me, crying so hard his voice was gone.” “If I hadn’t shielded him, the rest of those stabs would have gone right into him.” “He was what, seven? Eight? He was so tiny.” “When Dad died, his last words were that sometimes, reacting to danger is just pure instinct. I used to wonder how our dad, who was just a regular factory worker, could be so brave.” He suddenly slapped his thigh. “Ah, whatever, let’s not talk about it! It’s in the past! I’m doing great right now! I don’t have to wake up early for work, I don’t have to revise proposals because the client is an idiot, and I can supervise you 24/7!” His tone suddenly turned a little pleading. “Chloe, when you have time, can you go check on that kid for me? Honestly, if I had been just one second faster, he wouldn’t even have…” The fact that he was able to say it out loud finally lifted the heavy stone off my chest. I nodded at him.

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I couldn’t help myself. Watching the live stream, I tapped the screen and sent fifty virtual supercars—a five-thousand-dollar flex in a matter of seconds. I expected a thank you, or at least a smile. Instead, Preston blew up. He sent me a scathing text, threatening to end things—again. As I sat there, reeling from the confusion, glowing lines of text suddenly began to drift across my vision like a digital hallucination—a live commentary on my own life. [Is this bitch for real? Does she think having a trust fund and paying for the lead’s tuition gives her the right to own him? Dropping those cars was a total power move to humiliate him. Such a desperate, territorial move.] [No wonder he’s pissed. Our sweet Daisy finally worked up the courage to send him her first ‘Rose’—a literal symbol of her pure love—and this rich girl just had to swoop in and drown it out with her tacky display of wealth.] [Old money, new money, it doesn’t matter. Women like her will never understand. A single rose might only cost a dime, but to him, it’s worth infinitely more than a dozen Ferraris bought with daddy’s credit card.] [When is Preston finally going to make enough from his streaming group to dump this nightmare socialite? I’m dying for him and Daisy to finally start their ‘struggling artists in love’ arc! Ugh!] I froze. The truth hit me with the force of a physical blow. I wasn’t the leading lady in this story. I was the obstacle. The “Other Woman.” The villainous ex-girlfriend standing in the way of a fated romance. Every gift, every cent I’d spent on him, wasn’t a gesture of love. In his eyes—and the eyes of the “audience”—it was an insult. Fine. I nodded to the empty room, a cold clarity settling over me. I accepted the breakup. I turned my back on the man I’d spent three years bankrolling and set my sights on his teammate instead. Later, I didn’t even blink when I dropped five hundred “Universe” gifts on his rival’s stream. Preston, watching from the sidelines, completely lost it. In front of his entire following, with his eyes bloodshot and voice cracking, he begged me for a second chance. 1 It took me a long time to process what was happening. In the narrative of this world, Preston was the “Hero.” Daisy, my roommate, was the “Heroine.” And me? I was the “Rich Girl Villain”—the one who had been foolishly pouring her heart and bank account into a man who secretly despised her. As I sat there dazed, the floating comments continued to flicker with indignation. [God, poor Daisy. She skipped dinner for three nights just to save up enough for that digital rose. I’m literally crying for her.] [The villain is so toxic. Preston told her a thousand times not to be so flashy, but she just has to show off. She made poor Daisy feel so small she probably cried herself to sleep.] [They’re both kids from the same small town, chasing the American Dream together. Only they can truly save each other.] [The villain might have helped him win the streaming battle, but look at his face. He’s not smiling. He’s just thinking about how much Daisy is hurting.] [The script was supposed to be: They share a secret glance of love amidst the crowd. This bitch ruined their first real moment!] I closed my eyes, trying to clear the static from my brain. This “plot” was absurd, but the reality was undeniable. If this was the truth of his heart, I was done playing the role of the benevolent benefactor. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Trying to ignore me again?” Preston’s voice barked through the phone, pulling me back to the present. “Daisy has a lot of pride. She’s probably hiding somewhere crying right now. If you want to keep this relationship, you go to her and apologize. Once she forgives you, then maybe we can talk.” I didn’t hesitate. “Okay,” I said. Thinking he might misunderstand, I added firmly, “I agree. Let’s break up.” “Then get over there and apologize! Be sincere for once—” Preston started, his voice overlapping mine. He stopped mid-sentence as my words finally registered. “Wait, what? Blair, what is this? Another one of your little tantrums?” I cut him off, my voice steady. “I said, you wanted a breakup. You’ve got it. We’re done.” The silence on the other end lasted three full seconds. Then, he let out a sharp, condescending laugh. “Fine. Great. Have it your way. Keep acting out, Blair. But don’t come crawling back when you realize I’m actually serious this time. I’m done with your drama.” I didn’t want to argue. I just gave a muffled “Mm-hmm” and moved to hang up. Before I could, his voice came through the receiver, a low, venomous threat. “Think carefully, Blair. Don’t call me crying tomorrow begging for another chance!” 2 I didn’t bother responding. I never knew how to love “correctly,” I suppose. My version of love was simple: if I cared for someone, I wanted them to have the best of everything. I thought Preston was struggling, that he needed the money, that he was only doing these group streams—something he used to call “beneath him”—out of necessity. Now I knew. To him, my money was just a shallow, golden cage. The moment the call ended, I paged my housekeeper and told her to go to the local drugstore and buy two of those massive, cheap plastic moving bags. All the luggage in this apartment was custom-made, hand-stitched leather. Preston didn’t deserve to touch them. I watched as the housekeeper packed his things. I made sure she didn’t include a single designer item I’d bought him—those were too “vain” and might “hurt his fragile pride.” I looked around the penthouse. It was in the heart of the city, every square inch costing more than most people made in a year. I had decorated it ourselves, tailoring every detail to Preston’s tastes. If I had known he felt “humiliated” living here every day, I would have let the unit sit empty. I felt a surge of anger, but my eyes betrayed me, stinging with tears. Three years. You don’t just switch off three years of feelings, no matter how much of a bastard the guy turned out to be. He had threatened to leave a dozen times before, but this was the first time I was the one walking away. As I packed, the comments flared up again. [Why isn’t the villain apologizing yet? Does she think this silent treatment will work on him? So manipulative.] [Is she seriously acting like she’s moving out? She’s so obsessed with him, she’d die before she actually let him go.] [If her family didn’t have money, would a guy like Preston even look at her? He only stayed because she paid his tuition at the acting conservatory. She bought his time, not his heart.] [She’ll never understand that every cent she spent on him felt like a slap in the face. He despises her ‘charity.’] [He hates the ‘capitalist filth.’ He dreams of a tiny, one-bedroom apartment with Daisy. Simple meals, three seasons, four directions. That’s real happiness. The villain will never get it.] I tried to ignore them, but the sheer delusion was suffocating. If Preston hated my family’s help so much, he shouldn’t have accepted the tuition. He shouldn’t have accepted the black card. He was the one who pursued me for an entire year when we first met. He was a scholarship student from a small town; I was a girl with a trust fund that could buy the town. I had paid for everything. His fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year allowance, his skincare, his wardrobe, his travel for auditions. I never made him ask. I just put the money in his account because I wanted him to focus on his “art.” In return, he kept me a secret at school. He said he didn’t want people thinking he was a “gold digger.” He refused to be seen with me in the cafeteria or the library. He chose streaming because it was “quick money,” but every time I supported him with a gift, he acted like I’d spit on his grave. It all made sense now. My support was his “burden.” My love was his “humiliation.” Fine. Let him be free. I was sitting on the floor, crying despite myself, when the front door clicked open. Preston stood there, his face tight with fury. 3 “Blair, what is this?” He pointed at the cheap plastic bags in the foyer, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. Oh. I forgot to change the door code. He saw my tears and his expression softened into a look of weary annoyance. He rubbed his temples. “It’s five in the morning. I just finished a ten-hour stream. I’m exhausted. Stop with the theatrics.” He started to walk past me, carrying the limited-edition designer duffel I’d given him for his birthday. I stood up and blocked his path. The comments surged: [Look at her, trying the ‘breakup’ move to get his attention. We all know she’s terrified he’ll actually leave.] [He’s not falling for it. She could crawl on her knees and he’d still choose Daisy. Their love is pure.] I cleared my throat, wiping my face. “Your things are packed. The bags are by the door. You can check them if you want.” “Give me the car keys,” I added. “And I’m changing the codes. As for the money I’ve spent on you… consider it a donation to the needy. I spend more on my dog’s grooming anyway. I think we’re done here. Blocked and deleted.” Preston’s greatest weakness was his “high self-esteem”—or what I now recognized as fragile ego. My words hit him like a physical barrier. He looked at me with pure disbelief. “Blair, you’re really going to blow this out of proportion?” he sneered. “Have you thought about the consequences?” “I think I was pretty clear on the phone,” I said, my voice finally finding its cold edge. “We’re over.” He laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. “Do you realize that because you wouldn’t apologize, Daisy cried all night? I had to drive to her dorm after my stream just to sit with her. You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? But that’s you. Always the same.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a hiss. “To you, fifty supercars is just the price of a Chanel bag. You have a closet full of them, so it means nothing. But Daisy… she skipped three days of meals just to support me. Do you know how many shifts she had to work at the tea shop to save that money? And you just had to mock her. You had to drop fifty cars right after she sent her rose.” “You’re a spoiled little princess who knows nothing of the real world,” he spat. “That’s why I’m angry.” I was stunned. The streaming studio was an hour away from Daisy’s dorm. He finished at 2 AM and drove all that way to “comfort” her? And he still claimed they were “just friends”? I didn’t even know which account was Daisy’s. I didn’t know their “digital rose” was some sacred ritual. I only stepped in because he was losing the “Live Battle” and I didn’t want him to look bad. I wanted to scream all of this at him. But looking at his self-righteous face, I just felt… tired. Preston saw I wasn’t responding and, in a fit of pique, grabbed the plastic bags and headed for the elevator. Before the doors closed, he threw one last line at me: “Blair, remember this. You’re the one who pushed me to her.” 4 I didn’t understand. He was the one who asked for the breakup. Now it was my fault for “pushing” him? It was always like this. He was the saint; I was the sinner. My kindness was “hatred,” and my help was a “seed of resentment.” I lay in bed as the sun began to peek through the curtains, tossing and turning. I pulled up my phone. At 6:30 AM, Daisy had posted a new update on social media. “Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for understanding my heart. And thank you to a certain someone for finally giving you back to me.” The photo was a “Live” shot in front of a floor-to-ceiling window at a five-star hotel. In the reflection, you could see the city lights. In the foreground, Daisy was wrapped in a passionate embrace with a man. He was shirtless, his back to the camera, but I knew those shoulders anywhere. Daisy was in a sheer lace nightgown, Preston’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. The “Live” photo captured the movement of the kiss—lingering, hungry, and far from “just friends.” Strangely, I wasn’t even angry. I just felt a wave of nausea. How did I ever fall for this ungrateful parasite? The comments were throwing a party. [OMG! The sugar! My ship has sailed!] [Finally, they belong to each other. No more obstacles.] [We have to thank the villain. Her jealousy finally made the lead realize he couldn’t live without Daisy.] [He’s going to work so hard now to give her a future. True love wins!] I didn’t feel like crying anymore. I felt like doing math. If they wanted to “work hard” and “rely on themselves,” why was the bill for that twenty-thousand-dollar-a-night presidential suite being charged to the black card I’d given him? I looked closer at the photo. On the nightstand, “accidentally” caught in the frame, was a custom Hermes handbag. My handbag. The one my mother gave me for my birthday. Preston probably thought I had so many I wouldn’t notice one missing. I called my assistant. “Cancel the black card I gave Preston. Effective immediately.”

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I was born with congenital insensitivity to pain—no pain receptors. My sister, Sally, was a butterfly baby. Her skin was paper-thin, prone to tearing with the slightest bump. To protect her, my older brother, Link, used me to set the rules. Every. Single. Time. I tried to fight it, of course. But Link would always wear me down with the same pleading, world-weary tone. “Maya, Sally is adopted. We can’t just outright punish her, even for the sake of appearances.” He would sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Besides, she has EB. She’s fragile, nothing like you! You can’t feel it anyway. Just treat it like a bad scene in a movie. It’ll be over before you know it.” When Sally ran off in a crowded mall, Link broke my leg in front of her. When Sally played with an X-Acto knife, Link cut off five of my fingers, then had a surgeon reattach them one by one. Later, Sally started dating a boy named Jax, a rebellious type, and ran away from home with him. When Link dragged her back, he carved gashes into my body and threw me into the private marine enclosure he had built for his sharks. Three gray shapes circled me. I begged Link for help, but he was only focused on lecturing Sally. “You do the crime, you do the time,” he said, his voice flat. “Run away again, and I’ll throw her in again.” Sally’s legs gave out from under her. She collapsed to her knees, bruising the delicate skin. Link instantly scooped her up, his face etched with agonizing concern. He turned to leave, holding her tight. I cried out, pleading with him to pull me out first, but he never looked back. He forgot. Insensitivity to pain isn’t the same as immortality. You can still bleed out. … “Link, please! Save me!” Blood, thick and hot, poured continuously from the wound on my shoulder. The metallic, pungent smell of it excited the three sharks, making them circle faster. I thrashed against the water, terrified, trying to swim toward the steel ladder bolted to the side. I gripped a rung, but Link’s knife—he always carried a heavy utility knife—flashed again, severing my grip with a cut across my knuckles. I forced myself not to let go, clenching my fist around the smooth metal. But the intensifying scent of my blood sent one of the sharks into a frenzy. It snapped its jaws onto my calf and pulled, dragging me back into the churning water. “Maya!” Sally’s scream was raw, shredded. She instinctively reached a hand out toward me, desperate to pull me back. Link caught her waist, pulling her back. “Don’t move. You can’t swim.” “Link.” Sally dropped to the wet concrete, ignoring the scrapes blooming on her knees. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. I won’t ever run away again. Please, let Maya out.” She was sobbing hysterically, her forehead striking the floor with sickening, repetitive thuds. “Sally, stop it! Are you insane?” Link yanked her up. “You know your condition! You can’t knock your head like that, you’ll injure yourself.” He scanned her body frantically, and sure enough, found a small, dark bruise forming just above her knee. His eyes immediately reddened with sharp, overwhelming panic. He lifted her fully into his arms. “If you don’t behave, I’ll let out Big White, too.” Big White was his most aggressive shark, the one he’d personally purchased from a research facility when it was scheduled for euthanasia after a human incident. Sally went instantly silent, shivering in his arms. Link seemed satisfied with her reaction. He walked toward the exit, his strides long and purposeful. “Link, help me. Please. I can’t hold on.” As he neared the door, I spent my last bit of strength on one final, desperate cry. He paused. A fleeting shadow of genuine tension crossed his face. But as he looked down, his eyes caught the tiny, fingernail-sized cut on Sally’s forehead. His focus snapped. He turned his head slightly, speaking back to me without meeting my eyes. “Every time I punish you, you intentionally give up right before the end. Can you, for once, act like the older sister you’re supposed to be? Set an example. You don’t want her ending up with a body full of scars, do you?” Then he was gone. He never looked back. My heart sank with his retreating footsteps. A realization clawed its way into my mind. Link doesn’t want me anymore. No. It couldn’t be true. Link told me it was always an act. Just a show. He would come back for me. He had to. All I had to do was be a little more pathetic. Sally had to be a little more scared. Then he’d be pleased. Then he’d look at me. I shouted for help a few more times, and then my body was violently wrenched backward. I looked down. One of the sharks had torn my entire left forearm from my body. Blood flushed the water, turning the enclosure into a dizzying swirl of scarlet. The horrifying sight shocked my heart into near-failure. Survival instinct screamed at me. I had to get out. I swam desperately toward the ladder. By some miracle, I actually made it past the three sharks and caught the handle. I scrambled onto the concrete, delirious with relief. I took two stumbling steps before a shark launched itself clean out of the water behind me. It clamped down on my other calf and, with a violent tug, dragged me back into the dark depths. I fought and struggled, but I was no match for its power. Salty water flooded my nasal cavity, then my throat, slowly filling my lungs. My breathing faltered. My strength evaporated. The edges of my vision faded to black. When I next woke up, I realized I could breathe underwater. I was about to wonder if I had suddenly developed some kind of superpower when I noticed the ragged remnants of my own body nearby. The three sharks were feasting on me like a gourmet meal. First, the gnawing on the arms, then the belly tearing open, and finally, one swallowed my head whole. It was then I understood. I was dead. I watched the sharks feed for a while, found it boring, and went home. Link’s personal physician, Dr. Miles Corbin, had already finished checking Sally. He told Link her knee scrapes were minor, but she still needed to be careful. Link’s visibly tight chest finally loosened. I floated in front of him and tried to say his name. He didn’t respond. He turned to look at Sally, who was sitting silently on the sofa. I remembered then. The living can’t see the dead. Sally was no longer crying, but her eyes were glazed and empty. Dr. Corbin was a long-time acquaintance of Link’s. He had heard about the nature of the punishment as soon as he arrived. He sighed, shaking his head. “Wasn’t that a bit extreme, Link?” Link scoffed. “She won’t listen otherwise. Running off with that punk, Jax? You know how dangerous the world is for her, Miles.” “But throwing Maya in the tank? What if the sharks had lost control and actually hurt her?” “You don’t have to worry about her,” Link said dismissively. “You forget, those three are usually docile. They never attack people. Plus, I had a guard watching the monitors. If there was any real danger, he was supposed to pull her out immediately.” I froze. Did your security guard really watch the monitors, Link? Why didn’t anyone come when I was being eaten? Link’s only real hobby was his sharks. He’d built the enclosure—larger than some public aquariums—just for them. They had dedicated keepers, a professional animal doctor for checkups, and their feeder fish were flown in from overseas. Because they were raised in captivity, the three sharks were usually placid and had never shown aggression toward people. Link had assured me of this before the “punishment.” But he forgot one crucial detail. The day Sally ran away, Link started planning this punishment. He had specifically instructed the keepers not to feed the sharks for an entire week, all to ensure they looked aggressive for the show. But animals are just animals. Starved for that long, they no longer cared if the food they were given was human or otherwise. Dr. Corbin frowned. “Even so, she’s a young woman, and she was bleeding heavily. You know how blood affects sharks. What if one of them took a bite?” “They wouldn’t take a fatal bite,” Link snapped, growing impatient. “You’re forgetting Maya has insensitivity to pain. She wouldn’t feel it, even if they tore her leg off. All that screaming? It was just part of the act.” Dr. Corbin was silent, his expression a mix of concern and pity. He finally sighed and told Link he shouldn’t be so cruel; after all, I was his own sister. Link lowered his head, considering. “You’re right. I’m going to—” Before he could finish, Sally stood up, seemingly recovered. “I’m going to bring my sister back,” she announced. Link’s face darkened. “Stay put!” Sally flinched. “Why?” “You were gone for seven days,” Link stated. “The punishment must last seven hours. That’s the rule.” He was lying. There was no such family rule. He only said it because he saw that Sally was no longer sufficiently scared, so he had to increase the severity of the lesson. All he wanted was to terrify her into realizing the gravity of her mistake. Link was eight years older than me. In my mind, he was both father and mother. When I was eight, our parents died in a car accident. Our relatives, eager to snatch the estate, used various means to drive Link and me out of the house. The same day we were abandoned, we found Sally, also abandoned. To provide for us, sixteen-year-old Link dropped out of school. He fought in underground boxing matches, delivered takeout, and hauled concrete. Because all his time was spent earning money, Sally and I were left to care for each other. But Sally’s Epidermolysis Bullosa was extremely rare. The slightest touch would break her skin. Broken skin meant a trip to the hospital, and hospital visits cost money. Link was constantly stressed. He ran out of patience and repeatedly warned Sally not to be reckless. Warnings worked once or twice, but eventually, she stopped listening. One day, Link yelled at Sally, and she ignored him. I laughed beside him, and he hit me instead. Sally was terrified that time. She cried hysterically and apologized. From that day on, Link learned the method of “killing the chicken to scare the monkey.” I was the chicken. Sally was the monkey. At first, Link would apologize after hitting me. He’d tenderly apply antiseptic, hold me, and cry. “Maya, money is so hard to earn. I just don’t have enough to keep taking Sally to the hospital,” he’d plead. “If you take the beating, she’ll behave. Just bear with it, alright? I’ll try not to hit you so hard next time.” Knowing the impossible burden he carried, I lied. I told him I had congenital insensitivity to pain. That no matter what he did, I wouldn’t feel a thing. I only did it to ease his guilt. But later, even my lie stopped scaring Sally for long. Even when Link knocked me unconscious, she only stayed terrified for a short while. So, he escalated. Sally ran off? Break my leg. She played with a sharp object? Cut off my fingers. In his mind, I couldn’t feel it. All he had to do was get the bones or fingers reattached. Until today, when I was eaten alive. He wanted Sally to watch with her own eyes. He wanted her to be so afraid that she would never hurt herself again. I knew that in the beginning, Link’s cruelty was motivated by fear of financial ruin. But later, even when he had money, he had invested so much more time and emotional energy into Sally than me. He had developed a deep, complicated attachment. Perhaps he never even noticed. In his heart, Sally had become more important than me. Sally kept looking at her watch. The moment Link’s arbitrary seven hours were up, she pulled him toward the marine enclosure. “Link, it’s seven hours. You have to let Maya out now.” He allowed himself to be dragged along, feigning annoyance. “What’s the rush? Your sister isn’t going anywhere.” But when the enclosure door opened and the heavy, metallic smell of blood spilled out, Link and Sally both froze at the sight of the tank. After a long pause, Sally’s voice trembled. “Link, where’s Maya? Why is she gone?” She scurried around the edge of the pool, desperately searching for any sign of me. Link, however, recovered quickly. He walked onto the platform, scanned the ground, and called Sally’s name. “Sally, come here.” She rushed to his side. “Look.” Link pointed to two bloody footprints on the platform. “See? These must be Maya’s. She got out and left already.” “Really?” Sally watched the footprints, still shaking. “Then where is she now?” Link hesitated. “She must have gone to the hospital. She always handles her own injuries.” It was true. Unlike Sally, because I claimed not to feel pain, I always quietly limped or stumbled to the ER alone, no matter how severe the injury. Sally pleaded with Link to take her to the hospital to find me. “Please, Link. If I don’t see Maya tonight, I won’t be able to sleep.” Link, softened by her tears, glanced back at the water, a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. “Fine.” He patted her head affectionately and pulled out his phone to call the kitchen. “We’re going to the hospital to see Maya! Even though she got lazy and gave up on the punishment early again, she must be hungry after running off like that. Let’s go check on her.” I floated above them, numb. I don’t think I can feel hunger anymore, Link. But before they could leave, the housekeeper rushed in. “Sir, there’s a young man with blonde hair at the gate. He insists on seeing Miss Sally.” Link’s face went immediately dark. He strode toward the door, and I followed, curious. Standing at the gate was Jax, the rebellious ex-boyfriend who had helped Sally run away. The moment he saw Link, he started yelling. “Give Sally back! You can’t keep her locked up!” Link’s eyes narrowed. “How did you find this place?” “This address isn’t hard to get,” Jax retorted, holding his chin up. “You sick bastard. Why are you trying to break us up? Sally and I are in love.” Link slowly turned his head to Sally, who was standing behind him. His voice was frighteningly calm. “Sally, are you two ‘in love’?” Anyone who knew Link understood: the calmer his voice, the more terrifying his rage. Sally immediately backed down, shaking her head frantically. “No, no, we’re not.” Then she shouted at Jax. “Jax, just go! I don’t want to be with you anymore.” Jax’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No! Sally, is he making you say that? Come with me…” His hand hadn’t even touched Sally before Link seized his arm and brutally snapped it. Link kicked Jax away like garbage, then addressed the guards. “Get him off the property.” Jax was dragged away, screaming in pain. Sally was shaking violently. She followed Link back to the living room, still fixated on me. “Link, I swear I won’t see him again. Let’s go find Maya.” “Don’t you dare bring her up.” Link’s face was a mask of disgust. “I was just feeling guilty and was going to bring her dinner, and she immediately gave this psycho our address! No wonder she got out so fast. She probably planned it the moment I threw her in.” “It’s shameful. When will she finally grow up and stop using these childish tricks to compete for attention?” Sally’s face went white. “No, that’s not it. I…” She wanted to admit she was the one who told Jax, but she swallowed the words. She knew admitting it or not, the person Link punished would always be me. Jax’s appearance rekindled Link’s fury. But since I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t lash out at Sally. Instead, he ordered his people to go to every hospital in the city to find and bring me back. He sent Sally to her room and headed to his private gym to hit the punching bag and vent his physical energy. Halfway through his workout, the housekeeper came back. Link looked up. “Did you find Maya?” The housekeeper reported that there was still no word on me. She had come to tell Link that the keepers said the sharks seemed sick. The three of them were lethargic and weren’t eating. Link adored his sharks. Hearing this, he rushed to the enclosure and immediately called the animal doctors to come check them out. Sally, who couldn’t sleep, heard the commotion and followed. Half an hour later, the three sharks were tranquilized and immobile. Several animal doctors, equipped with portable sonar probes, climbed into the water. When they scanned the first shark’s abdomen, every one of them gasped in horror. They scrambled back onto the platform and ran toward Link, stumbling and panicked. “M-Mr. Sterling…” they stammered, out of breath. “What did you feed them? One of the sharks has—” “—a human head inside!”

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As the holidays approached, our company held its annual awards banquet. Everyone else received a hefty year-end bonus, but me? The top sales rep? I just got a piece of paper. To be exact, it was a contract transferring the title of “Corporate CEO & Legal Figurehead” to my name. My boss, Richard Vance, patted my shoulder, his face plastered with a hypocritical smile. “Ethan, I’ve always seen immense potential in you!” “Keep up the hard work in the new year, and I guarantee you’ll take home more money than anyone else by the end of it.” “Come on, sign this document. From today on, you are the official face of the company. You’ll even get a cut of the equity dividends at the end of the year. No other employee gets this kind of VIP treatment!” I stared at him coldly, forcibly suppressing the urge to introduce the sole of my shoe to his doughy face. If I hadn’t secretly overheard his conversation earlier, I might have actually fallen for his bullshit! The company’s financial black hole was getting bigger by the day. Handing me the CEO title right now? He was clearly setting me up to be his scapegoat. Since you want to play dirty, Richard, don’t blame me for playing dirtier. 1 In the executive office, Richard leaned back in his plush leather chair, a cigar clamped between his teeth, smiling amiably at me. “Ethan, your contributions to the company this year have been massive. It’s obvious to everyone.” “So, the board has decided to give you the ultimate reward.” “Once you become the legal CEO, you’ll be part of the executive inner circle. From now on, any major company decisions will have to go through you first…” Richard talked a big game, trying to dazzle me with a pie-in-the-sky pitch. I really, really wanted to expose him right to his face and slap my resignation letter across his desk. Just yesterday, I returned to the office after meeting a client. I was planning to go straight to Richard’s office to give him a progress report, but my stomach acted up, so I hit the restroom first. While in a stall, I overheard Richard talking on his phone near the sinks. He spoke with dripping contempt: “Ethan is just a dog I keep on a leash!” “I tell him to jump, he asks how high. As long as I throw him a bone and stroke his ego, he’ll work himself to death for me like a rented mule.” “He’s no ‘top sales rep.’ He just knows a few buzzwords and has a slick tongue. He flirts with the clients, and they hand him the contracts. Even without him, I could send a monkey in a suit to close those deals.” “Ethan doesn’t even have a college degree. His education is a joke. If he wasn’t so easy to manipulate, and if he didn’t constantly refuse to ask for a raise, I’d never hire trash like him!” “Our financial loopholes are about to blow up in our faces. At the next board meeting, those investors are definitely going to demand an audit. It’s going to be a disaster.” “So, I’m going to transfer the legal CEO title to Ethan. Before I do that, I’ll have him hand all his active client accounts over to you…” Hearing those words, I was so furious smoke practically blew out of my ears. I almost lost it and beat him to a pulp right there in the bathroom. But ultimately, reason prevailed. Even if I beat the crap out of him, what would it accomplish? If I laid a finger on him, Richard would call the cops, press charges, and extort me for a massive settlement. It wasn’t worth it. Richard coughed lightly, pulling me from my thoughts, and smiled his fake smile. “Ethan, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and sign!” “Once you sign and the paperwork is filed, I’m hosting a dinner at The Capital Grille tonight. The whole executive team is getting together…” Before he could finish, I said flatly, “Mr. Vance, I am incredibly grateful for your high regard.” “However, my education is limited, and my contributions are negligible. I’ve been with the company for less than three years. I absolutely cannot shoulder the immense responsibility of being the CEO. You should find someone more qualified.” Hearing my refusal, Richard’s face darkened slightly. At that moment, his executive assistant, Chloe Miller, spoke up. She gave me a saccharine, fake look. “Ethan, Mr. Vance is showing you incredible appreciation. Don’t throw away a golden opportunity like this!” “You don’t even have a college degree. In any other corporate firm, they wouldn’t even look at your resume.” “Mr. Vance not only hired you but mentored you. And now he’s elevating you to the executive suite! Do you have absolutely no gratitude for everything he’s done for you?” “Mr. Vance believes in you. If you refuse, aren’t you just slapping him in the face?” “Ethan, opportunities like this don’t come around every day. If you miss this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” I sneered internally, but kept my face completely neutral. “I know I can’t handle the burden of being the legal representative. With my low education and lack of seniority, I’m perfectly happy just being a regular employee.” “You, on the other hand, Chloe, have an excellent degree. Plus, you’re Mr. Vance’s sister-in-law. You are the perfect candidate for the CEO position.” “Keep the wealth in the family. Let’s leave the CEO title for Miss Miller!” Hearing this, Chloe glared at me viciously and snapped, “Ethan, don’t be an ungrateful prick!” “You…” Before she could finish, I cut her off, feigning complete innocence. “Chloe, why are you getting so defensive?” “Recommending you for the CEO role is a huge compliment!” “Could it be that you don’t want to be a top executive?” “Or is there something… wrong… with the CEO position?” Chloe was furious. Just as she opened her mouth to yell, Richard slammed his hand on the desk, his face cold. “Enough! Both of you, quiet down!” “Ethan, do you really not want the CEO position?” “If you take it, I can promise you a 5% equity stake in the company…” I shook my head decisively. “I think being a regular employee is great. I’m a man with low ambitions. I just don’t have that kind of drive.” Richard’s gaze turned dark and venomous. He was clearly pissed. However, he didn’t blow up immediately. He said coldly, “We’ll discuss the CEO position later. Starting today, Ethan, I need you to hand over all your active client accounts to Chloe.” “And any projects you haven’t closed yet? Transfer those to her as well.” “Alright, you’re dismissed. Get out.” Just as I stepped out of the office, I heard a loud crash from inside. Sounded like Richard had smashed his favorite custom coffee mug against the wall. A cold smirk curled on my lips. You’re mad already? The real show hasn’t even started yet! 2 I had zero complaints about handing over my clients and pending projects to Chloe. But when the rest of the office found out, the way they looked at me instantly changed. They instinctively distanced themselves, whispering among themselves with thinly veiled schadenfreude. “Is Ethan an idiot? Can’t he see the boss is completely phasing him out?” “I always hated that guy. He didn’t even graduate college, why the hell does he get to sit at the same level as us Ivy League grads?” “The most annoying part is that his sales numbers are higher than ours. All he does is kiss ass and drink with clients, right?” “Good riddance. A parasite like him should have been fired ages ago.” “At the awards banquet, everyone got a fat bonus except him, and he didn’t even complain. What a pathetic, brainless corporate slave!” I wasn’t exactly popular in the office. It wasn’t because I was arrogant or aloof. When I first joined, I genuinely tried to build good relationships with my coworkers. But they all looked down on me. The main reason? My lack of a fancy degree. Back then, Richard saw that I was a smooth talker and had helped him close a massive deal, so he reluctantly brought me on board. At the time, I was incredibly grateful. I worked like a madman. Even though I had the lowest base salary, my workload was the heaviest in the entire company. No matter how others viewed me, I put my head down and crushed my quotas, just to repay Richard for giving me a chance. My first year, I brought in $10 million in contracts, accounting for 30% of the company’s total revenue. My second year, I closed $25 million, making up 50% of the revenue. By my third year, 80% of the company’s total sales volume was signed by me. And my salary? It remained frozen at the exact same entry-level rate I started with. Even the fresh college grads they hired last year had a higher base salary than I did. Originally, I planned to ask Richard for a raise after the awards banquet. Now? There was absolutely no need. The debt of gratitude I owed him had been paid off tenfold a long time ago. But Richard wanted to squeeze the very last drop of value out of me, and then kick me into the abyss to take the fall for his crimes. That wasn’t just bad business; it was pure evil. Over the next few days, I clocked in and out normally, completely ignoring the bizarre, mocking stares from my coworkers. Until the day before the winter holidays. The moment I walked into the office, the atmosphere felt different. My coworkers looked at me like I was a clown, their eyes brimming with malicious joy. I had just sat down at my desk when Richard walked out of his office. He was holding a thick stack of red bonus envelopes, handing them out one by one. The staff was grinning ear to ear. Richard cleared his throat and smiled warmly. “Everyone worked hard this year. I hope we can keep up the momentum next year and hit new revenue records.” “Today is the last workday before the holidays. You can all clock out early this afternoon. Remember to be back in the office on the 8th. I’ll have kickoff bonuses waiting for you.” The office erupted in cheers, aggressively showering Richard with flattery. Richard glanced at me, a fake, plastic smile on his face. “Ethan, there’s no bonus for you. Don’t take it personally.” “Given your sub-par performance during your last few contract negotiations, the clients had some complaints. It negatively impacted the company’s reputation. Honestly, you should be thankful I’m not docking your pay.” “This holiday, don’t bother going back to your hometown. Stay here and man the office.” “And don’t even think about holiday overtime pay. Consider it your unpaid contribution to the company to make up for the reputational damage you caused.” After Richard finished, the mockery on my coworkers’ faces grew even more intense. I had already handed all my clients and projects over to Chloe, so Richard didn’t even bother pretending to be nice anymore. His stance was crystal clear: as long as I refused to sign the CEO transfer paperwork, he was going to make my life a living hell. My response was simple. I pulled out the resignation letter I had already prepared and dropped it on my desk. “Find someone else to man the office. I quit.” 3 My resignation went through flawlessly. Richard signed off on it right then and there. After I packed up my box and walked out the glass doors, Chloe stood in the executive office, looking confused. “Richard, didn’t you say we had to force Ethan to take the CEO title?” “Why did you approve his resignation so easily?” “Do you have a new scapegoat lined up?” Richard smiled confidently. “Relax. Ethan isn’t escaping my grasp.” “He is the absolute perfect fall guy. Think about it: over the last few years, he signed the vast majority of our contracts. His name is all over our biggest projects.” “As long as we force him to become the legal CEO, when the company’s finances explode in six months, we can pin 100% of the blame on him.” “I’ve already forged evidence showing him taking kickbacks and embezzling company funds. When the time comes, I’ll leak it, and Ethan will become public enemy number one.” “Your job right now is to keep his old clients happy. Squeeze as many advance payments out of them as possible.” “That way, in six months when the company goes bankrupt and Ethan goes to federal prison, we can take the cash and disappear to a tropical island.” Chloe sat on Richard’s lap, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Richard, what about my sister?” Richard let out a disgusted snort. “When she goes bankrupt, you think I’m going to stay with that ugly old hag?” “Besides, she’s not even your biological sister, and you’ve always hated her anyway. This is the perfect chance to get your revenge!” Chloe’s smile grew wider. She wrapped her arms around Richard’s neck. “If she hadn’t suddenly been ‘found’ and brought back to the Sterling family, all the Sterling wealth would have been mine.” “She grew up in the country. Her looks, her body, her education—she’s inferior to me in every way. But just because I’m the adopted daughter, she inherited everything. It’s not fair.” “She funded this entire company. Once we tank it, she’ll lose everything.” Richard laughed arrogantly. “When the financials blow up in six months, right before we leave, I’ll clean out our joint bank accounts and empty the house. She’ll be just as broke and destitute as that loser Ethan!” Chloe kissed Richard hard, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Let’s put that aside for now. How are you going to force Ethan to willingly become the scapegoat?” Richard smiled evilly. “Ethan’s family is poor. His parents are old, but they’re still working minimum wage jobs just to survive.” “If his parents were to have a little… accident… and couldn’t work anymore? And suddenly needed a massive amount of cash for medical bills? Do you think Ethan would come begging to me?” “When that happens, I’ll have him completely by the balls!” Just as Richard and Chloe were getting handsy in the office, a frantic knocking echoed on the door. “What is it?!” Richard barked angrily. His trusted assistant’s panicked voice came through the wood. “Boss, your wife is here! She’s already in the lobby!” 4 Richard and Chloe scrambled to fix their clothes, both looking visibly panicked. Chloe stammered, “Richard, why is my sister here?!” “Didn’t she leave all the company operations to you?!” Richard ran a stressed hand through his hair. “How the hell should I know what that old hag is plotting!” “Why didn’t she call ahead?!” “Do you think she’s here to audit the books?!” “Pull yourself together. Don’t act suspicious.” The moment they stepped out of the office, a sharply dressed woman in her mid-thirties strode into the bullpen. It was Richard’s wife, Victoria Sterling. The employees all greeted her with immense caution and respect. The veterans knew exactly who held the real power. It wasn’t Richard; it was the formidable Victoria, who could crush Richard with a single thought. Richard slapped on a look of sheer joy and rushed over. “Honey! What are you doing here? I thought you were out shopping and playing bridge with your friends!” Chloe also plastered on a bright smile, adopting a playful tone. “Victoria! Were you worried Richard was messing around behind your back? Don’t worry, I’m keeping a close eye on him for you!” Victoria completely ignored Chloe. She looked at Richard and asked flatly, “Where is our top sales rep? The guy named Ethan. Is he here?” Hearing this, the employees exchanged bizarre looks. After all, I had just quit an hour ago. The owner’s wife suddenly showing up specifically looking for me was incredibly strange. Chloe asked cautiously, “Victoria, why are you looking for Ethan?” Victoria glanced at Chloe, then turned back to Richard. “Ethan’s parents were in a severe car accident. They’re in the hospital.” “He’s our top performer. It’s only right that we go show our support.” “I was shopping nearby when I heard the news, so I came straight here. I was going to take Ethan to the hospital to see them.” Chloe was just about to blurt out that I had quit, but Richard desperately shot her a warning glare. He quickly turned to Victoria, his face a mask of sycophantic concern. “Honey, I just heard the news too! I was just getting ready to head to the hospital!” “Ethan came in this morning throwing a massive tantrum, screaming about resigning. I have no idea what got into him. I tried to talk him out of it for an hour, but he wouldn’t listen. I had no choice but to approve it.” “He probably got the call and rushed straight to the hospital. Let’s head over there right now. We can check on his parents, and while we’re at it, we can try to convince him to come back to the company.” Victoria gave Richard a long, unreadable look. She didn’t say a word, and simply turned to leave. Richard and Chloe followed closely behind. Half an hour later, they arrived at the hospital room. When they saw the people standing outside the door, both Richard and Chloe froze. The people standing there were the primary investors and board members of the company! Richard looked at them in complete shock, instinctively asking, “What are you guys doing here?” The board members completely ignored Richard and Chloe, respectfully greeting Victoria instead. Victoria looked at Richard and said flatly, “I asked them to come!” “I’m going to announce something right in front of them!” Richard and Chloe’s hearts plummeted into their stomachs. “Announce what?” A cold sneer crept onto Victoria’s lips. “You’ll find out in a minute.” “Let’s go inside and check on Ethan’s parents first.” Without waiting for their response, Victoria pushed open the door to the hospital room. When they saw what was inside, Richard and Chloe’s faces contorted in absolute, paralyzing terror.

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Because of my cowardly personality, I was bullied every day by my coworkers and gaslighted by my manager: “Shouldn’t young people do a little more?” “With your skill level, do you even deserve a salary? Do you think this company is a charity?” “You have plenty of opportunities in the future. Let the senior employees have the ‘Employee of the Year’ award this time.” “You’re just wasting oxygen. Watch your back on your way home!” When I went to the boss to report the bullying, he just sneered: “There’s no such thing as bullying among adults. If everyone dislikes you, you need to look at yourself and find out why!” Eventually, my depression worsened, and I jumped off a building to end my life. When I woke up, my coworker Linda was just saying to me: “Hey Chloe, I’m heading out early. Can you stay late and finish this spreadsheet for me?” 1 “Are your arms broken?” I didn’t even look up, just fired right back at her. In my past life, this was exactly how it started—the slow, creeping gaslighting over minor tasks. At first, when delegating work within the department, they’d intentionally give me a heavier workload or the toughest, most thankless tasks. Later on, they didn’t even bother hiding it. They just dumped their own work on me, constantly saying: “Chloe, can you organize this spreadsheet for me?” “Chloe, take this report over to the client for me.” “Chloe, I have a family emergency and need to leave early. Can you finish my expense report and attach the receipts?” Chloe isn’t your mother. Will you literally die if you don’t boss me around for one second? How shameless can you get? Unfortunately, in my past life, I was meek and thin-skinned. If I was even slightly slow, my coworkers would say: “Oh, Chloe, you’re still young. Young people should work harder so they can learn and grow quickly. That’s how we all came up.” Like an idiot, I thought they actually had my best interests at heart and eagerly ran around doing their bidding. But what exactly was I supposed to learn from spending two hours taping receipts to a piece of paper? On top of that, Accounting would constantly nitpick—either the receipts were facing the wrong way or in the wrong order. They called me useless, saying I couldn’t even handle a simple task. It tanked my self-esteem. I started doubting myself, wondering if I really was just that incompetent and needed to tape more receipts to improve. But that was nothing. The fatal blow came later. The data in the contract I delivered to the client for Linda was wrong, causing a massive loss for the project. The boss was absolutely furious. Linda put on a devastated, apologetic face and explained to the management: “Young people are just so careless. I hadn’t even finished reviewing it, and Chloe took it upon herself to deliver it to the client. It’s my fault. I’ll teach her more in the future and make sure she learns to be more reliable.” The boss immediately docked my entire annual bonus, and HR sent out a formal, company-wide reprimand email. I hid in the bathroom and cried for hours. I really wanted to travel back in time and slap myself awake for being such a massive pushover! Instead of wasting time crying, why didn’t I just rip her a new one? Thankfully, I’ve been reborn! 2 Linda looked at me in pure disbelief: “Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? We’re your seniors. Did you lose your mind today? You were never like this before.” Clearly, she still thought I was the same meek doormat from my past life. “Linda, this is your work. How do you have the nerve to ask me to work overtime to do it?” “What’s wrong with a young person learning a bit more? I’m giving you an opportunity to gain experience. Besides, you’re a single girl, you don’t have anything going on at home anyway. Why can’t you spend a little more time improving yourself?” “You’re right. I definitely need to learn more, especially since this spreadsheet is so difficult. I don’t know how to do it. Why don’t you teach me? Once you teach me how, then I’ll do it for you.” I’d made up my mind. If she wanted to play the “young people need to learn” card, fine! I’ll learn! I’ll spend 5 hours learning how to do this spreadsheet! I’ll stay until 11 PM learning! Linda seemed to catch on to my strategy and got a little angry: “You can’t even handle a simple task like this? I don’t know how HR ever hired you!” “Yeah, you can’t even handle a simple task like this and have to ask others for help. I don’t know how you’ve survived in this company for so many years!” “I have something to do and need to leave early, it’s not that I don’t know how to do it!” Linda started explaining herself. The moment she started explaining, the battle was already won. Take note here, this is a key lesson: In office warfare, never explain yourself. The moment you start explaining, you fall into the trap of self-justification. Just go on the offensive. I didn’t say anything else, just gave her a cold sneer. Linda seemed a little flustered. She didn’t dare tangle with me any further, went back to her cubicle, and started working on the spreadsheet herself. As she worked, she muttered under her breath: “What’s wrong with her? She was fine yesterday…” Although she backed off, she was clearly still resentful. After all, just a few days ago, no matter who asked me to do something, I’d just roll over and take it. Today, I actually dared to refuse her, completely disrespecting her in front of everyone. So, she was determined to win that respect back today. Not long after, she came looking for me again. Of course, coming to me this time was like walking right into a trap. 3 She tossed the client contract onto my desk: “You can’t do a spreadsheet, but surely you can run an errand? This is the contract for the client. Go drop it off!” Just as I was about to fire back, a scene from my past life flashed through my mind: It was this exact contract delivery. Linda falsely accused me of submitting the contract to the client without permission, which cost me my annual bonus, got me publicly reprimanded, and made me cry my eyes out. Well, I had to deliver it. Otherwise, what if she noticed the data was wrong and corrected it? So, I pretended to be reluctant and said: “Fine, I’ll go drop it off now.” Linda looked pleased. She finally got her respect back today. This young upstart dared to rebel and be insubordinate; she had to nip that abnormal behavior in the bud immediately. However, seeing my sour expression, she assumed I was still resentful and wanted to push me down further: “Chloe, this isn’t just a simple delivery. You’ll get to interact with the client. You can learn how to communicate with clients. You’re still very lacking in that area.” What a joke. When I got to the client’s office, all I had to do was hand it to the receptionist. What was there to learn? Stop using “learning” and “growth” as bait to exploit young employees. Besides, I communicate perfectly fine with my own clients. How am I lacking? Of course, right now, I couldn’t wait to get that contract into the client’s hands. I just played hard to get: “But I’m worried the manager might need me for something. If he can’t find me, he might mark me as AWOL. Could you let the manager know?” My request was perfectly reasonable. The company had a formal “Out of Office” form, but people usually just left if they had urgent business. I diligently filled out the form, made sure both Linda and the manager, Mark, signed it, and then happily rented a Citi Bike to deliver the contract. As for the financial loss it would cause the company, that wasn’t my problem. In my past life, when the bullying got so suffocating I couldn’t breathe, I went to the boss and told him I felt like I was being bullied by my coworkers. The boss just sneered at me: “Chloe, have you been reading too much fiction? There’s no such thing as bullying among adults. If nobody likes you, maybe it’s because your emotional intelligence isn’t high enough?” I tried to explain, but he waved his hand dismissively: “Look for the reasons within yourself. Don’t blow everything out of proportion. You’re an adult, stop being so dramatic!” Was I being dramatic? I was being bullied, and I was supposed to find the reason within myself? When will this victim-blaming mentality finally disappear? I looked at the contract in my hand and wished I could change the price to be even lower and the penalty clause to be even higher. I’d love to bankrupt this company in one fell swoop. But I wasn’t going to commit a crime. I’d just sit back and watch them destroy themselves. 4 The problem surfaced very quickly. As soon as the client wired the payment, Accounting panicked and rushed to the boss. Soon, both Linda and Manager Mark were called into the boss’s office. Roaring and the sound of things being thrown echoed from inside. Everyone in the bullpen was too scared to make a sound. They all sat rigidly at their desks, pretending to be extremely busy, while stealing glances at the boss’s office. I felt absolutely nothing inside. I just silently cheered for the boss, hoping he’d lose his mind and beat Linda up. Unfortunately, the tension inside seemed to ease up a bit. A few minutes later, Linda opened the door and called me in. The boss pointed at the contract on the floor and demanded: “What is wrong with you?! You delivered the contract to the client before Linda even finished revising it?!” Trying this trick again? What a masterful deflection! “Boss, Linda told me to deliver it. I have an Out of Office form, and Manager Mark knew about it too.” Linda had assumed I’d just silently take the fall like I did in my past life, and then go hide in the bathroom and cry for hours. She didn’t expect me to instantly whip out an approved Out of Office form. “I followed company procedure and submitted a request to leave the office. Here is my approved form.” The boss shot a look at Mark. Mark’s signature was on that form. If he covered for Linda, he’d be taking the blame himself. Mark was shrewd. He immediately said: “That’s right. Linda asked Chloe to deliver it. They both told me about it.” The boss grew even angrier and glared daggers at Linda. Linda turned pale from fear. She couldn’t shift the blame, and her attempt to frame someone else had failed. I thought she was out of moves, but then she suddenly picked up the quote sheet, pointed at the numbers, and said to the boss: “This data is wrong. Someone tampered with it. I’ve been at this company for years; there’s no way I’d make such a rookie mistake!” Then, she glared at me viciously: “Chloe, is it because I asked you to do that spreadsheet? Are you mad at me and trying to get revenge? If it was wrong of me to ask you to work overtime, you could have reported it to management. You can’t just use the company’s profits to get revenge on me for your own petty grievances!” She even turned to Mark and said: “Manager Mark, you saw me and Chloe arguing that day, right? I never thought this young kid would be so vindictive and have absolutely zero regard for the big picture!” I was a bit stunned. I didn’t realize this woman was such a good actress. 5 But if she wanted to put on a show, I’d play along to the bitter end! “Linda, after I got the contract from you, I put it straight into a manila envelope. When would I have had the chance to alter it?” “Who knows if you swapped it out on the way? I have the original version on my computer. Let’s take a look and see, won’t we?” Saying that, she actually ran out and brought her laptop in. I looked closely, and sure enough, the amount was a full million dollars higher than the contract sent to the client. Linda instantly regained her confidence: “Boss, look, this is the original data. Chloe must have been upset that I made her work overtime, so she altered the contract to get back at me. Thank God I kept the original draft, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to prove my innocence.” Then she turned around, putting on an expression of deep disappointment: “Chloe, personal grudges should be settled privately. But what you’ve done is illegal! If you don’t confess right now, we’re calling the police!” I didn’t expect Linda to be so fast. She had altered the draft in that short amount of time and then immediately thrown the dirty water on me. The boss and Mark seemed more inclined to believe Linda. I could understand that. Linda was a veteran employee who was always kissing up to management, while I had only been there for a little over a year. Of course, they’d side with her. “Call the police then. I can’t explain it anyway.” Seeing my indifferent attitude, Linda became even more arrogant and actually reached for her phone to call 911. But with her little trick, the company’s IT department could easily check when she modified the file. We didn’t even need the police. She was just bluffing to force me to take the fall. Mark stopped Linda and said to me: “Chloe, the company doesn’t actually want to see you go to jail. If you really altered it, just confess. The company takes a small loss, and it won’t affect you.” This was exactly how it played out in my past life. The two of them played good cop, bad cop, forcing me to take the blame, which became the catalyst for my worsening depression. Seeing Mark still pulling the same old tricks, I couldn’t take it anymore and asked: “Manager Mark, haven’t you always kept the company seal locked in your office? I’m just a regular employee. I don’t have the authorization to alter contracts, and I certainly don’t have access to the company seal. Please tell me, how exactly did I alter it? And how did I stamp it after altering it?” Theoretically, Mark was supposed to review all contracts. But he trusted Linda, so he probably just stamped it without even looking. That meant he had to share the blame, which was why he was so desperate to pin it on me. Of course, the deeper reason was that they both thought I was an easy target, the perfect scapegoat. 6 I had checkmated Mark. He quickly tried to explain to the boss: “I keep the company seal in my office. Usually, people just come in and stamp things themselves. It was an oversight in my management…” This statement not only cleared him of the responsibility of “failing to review” the contract but also implied that I might have snuck in and used the seal when no one was looking. It was incredibly calculating. I was too lazy to keep playing games with them. I took out my phone and pulled up the photos I had taken the moment Linda handed me the contract: “Boss, when I got the contract, I was worried pages might be missing, so I took a picture of every single page. You can take a look.” The boss took my phone, checked the timestamp on the photos, and then looked at the content. His face turned ashen. Linda still wouldn’t give up and stubbornly argued: “Who knows if those photos are Photoshopped? Photoshop is so advanced these days. Doctoring a photo and changing the timestamp is easy.” Even at this point, she was still trying to shift the blame. I wasn’t going to humor her anymore: “Linda, when I got the contract, I walked past the front entrance. There’s a security camera right there. I held up every single page under that camera. Just have IT pull the security footage!” Linda, who had been trying to put up a brave front, completely panicked. I struck while the iron was hot: “Also, your little trick with altering the file won’t fool anyone. The file properties show the ‘Last Modified’ date. Open it and see for yourself.” I really didn’t understand how she could delude herself to this extent. The boss finally lost it: “If you made a mistake, you made a mistake! Why are you still lying?! You’ve caused the company a massive loss. Write your resignation letter. I don’t ever want to see you again!” Linda lowered her head, not daring to speak. Not making her pay for the damages was already a huge act of leniency. However, her year-end bonus was definitely gone, her commissions were gone, and she wasn’t getting any severance pay either. As she left, she glared at me with pure hatred: “I never thought someone as young as you could be so calculating.” I genuinely couldn’t understand it. When a bad person’s malicious plot fails, they blame the victim for not cooperating? Of course, what I understood even less was the boss. After Linda left, he held the contract, stared at me, and said: “Since you looked at every page of this contract and even took pictures, why didn’t you spot the errors?”

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In the capital’s elite circles, all knew Crown Prince cherished his beloved daughter and wife of seven years, Iris Winter. Yet secretly, he kept another woman and an illegitimate son in his suburban villa, visiting them on every business trip. After rebirth, the first thing I did was swallow abortion pills before him — one, two, three… Until blood streamed down my legs and his eyes reddened, rushing to stop me. In my past life, he married me because I was pregnant with our daughter. I believed longing had finally been answered, but marriage brought only emotional abuse. Our daughter wasn’t even allowed to call him “Dad.” On her birthday, he took her to kindergarten alone — I thought his heart had softened. Instead, he sent her into surgery to donate bone marrow for his son with his first love. She died of infection on the table; he skipped her cremation to celebrate his son’s birthday. I sat with her urn until dark, only to hear, “Decide your divorce terms. I don’t want the daughter.” Ridiculous. I watched him leave, then set myself ablaze. Flames silenced the pain. Reborn, I vowed this tragedy would end at the start. … The hospital’s antiseptic smell was acrid. I lay in the hospital bed, a cramping pain twisting in my lower abdomen, like a blunt knife churning inside. Liam Bowen stood by the bed, his face ashen. “Iris Winter, are you deliberately taking abortion pills and playing the victim, just to hide Cathy Lin?” Abortion pills. A bitter ploy. Hiding Cathy Lin. In his eyes, had I become so manipulative that I would use my own flesh and blood as a bargaining chip? My voice was hoarse. “What does that have to do with me?” Yes, I knew Cathy Lin. She was his first love, the woman hidden in the suburban villa. Liam’s voice was low, laced with a strange certainty. “You know. You know about her existence, you know about the child’s existence, you even know where I go every time I’m on a ‘business trip’.” “Iris Winter, you’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?” In that instant, my heart nearly stopped. The hospital room was eerily quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat, a frantic drum against my ribs. Liam stared at me, his eyes holding a madness I’d never seen before. “In the last life, you burned yourself and our daughter to death. I thought it was all over, but then I opened my eyes and I was back eight years ago.” All the blood in my body turned cold. He had been reborn too. He remembered everything from the previous life. He remembered our daughter’s death, he remembered the fire, he remembered everything. But what he wanted to make amends for wasn’t me, wasn’t our daughter. It was Cathy Lin, it was that so-called son. Liam’s hand gripped my jaw, the force so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. “Where have you hidden her?” I gritted my teeth. “I haven’t.” His voice suddenly rose. “Tell me!” “I told you, it wasn’t me!” He ripped the IV needle from my hand, blood seeping from the puncture. My eyes reddened. “Liam Bowen, you’re insane!” “You’re forcing me, Iris Winter!” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Come in.” The hospital room door was pushed open again. Two men in black suits entered. One held a medical kit. A premonition of ill omen rose in my heart. “Mr. Bowen, the items are here.” The man opened the box, revealing a row of syringes neatly arranged inside. Liam took one, examining it under the light. “Iris Winter, I’ll ask you one last time, where is Cathy Lin?” I clenched my jaw, not uttering a single word. I hadn’t kidnapped Cathy Lin; I didn’t even know why she would be missing. But I knew that in this man’s eyes, I would always be the wrong one. It was true in the previous life, and it was true in this one. “Very good.” Liam grabbed my arm, the needle piercing my skin. It wasn’t injected into a vein, but shallowly into the muscle, then the liquid was slowly pushed in. The pain was like countless ants tearing at my skin. “What is this?” “Something to make you clear-headed.” He expressionlessly pulled out the needle and took another. “Each injection will make you hurt a little more.” “Until you tell me where she is.” The second needle went into my arm. The third into my calf. The fourth… I don’t know how long it lasted before Liam finally stopped. My whole body trembled, cold sweat soaking my hospital gown. “Why don’t you believe me?” I heard my voice, hoarse like a broken bellows. Liam looked at me with an expressionless face. “Because you’ve changed.” He spoke softly, yet his words cut into my heart like a blunt knife. I closed my eyes. Changed. Yes, I had changed. The Iris Winter of the previous life, who gave up everything for him, humbled to the dust, was dead. Dead in that great fire, dead before our daughter’s cold urn, dead in his retreating figure. But why should he demand that I not change? “Liam Bowen, you remember the previous life. Then do you remember how our daughter died?” I opened my eyes and looked directly at him. His pupils suddenly constricted. “You personally sent her into surgery, to donate bone marrow for your son. She was only five years old, she didn’t even dare to call your name.” “When she died from infection on the operating table, you were celebrating Cathy Lin’s son’s birthday.” “So, in this life, I simply took the abortion pills. That way, our daughter won’t be born. She won’t have to see a father who doesn’t love her.” I laughed, but tears streamed down my face. Not from pain, but from irony. In the previous life, he sacrificed our daughter for Cathy Lin’s son; in this life, he tortures me for that son. From beginning to end, his heart only held that woman and that child. What was I? What was our daughter? A tool, a substitute, or a pawn to be discarded at any time? No sooner had the words left my lips than a resounding slap landed hard on my face. My head was snapped to the side, blood instantly seeping from the corner of my mouth. Liam’s voice trembled. “That was your child! How dare you abort her?!” I covered my face, letting out a cold laugh. “How dare I? Liam Bowen, when you let her die on the operating table in the previous life, why didn’t you ask yourself how you dared?” He raised his hand, as if to strike again, but it froze midway. “You!” His eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently. “Iris Winter, you don’t deserve to be a mother.” I lifted my head, tears mingled with blood running down my face. “Liam Bowen, you are the least qualified to say that to me.” Just then, his phone rang. Liam answered, and his face instantly changed. “What?!” He abruptly stood up. I was dragged out of the hospital room by him, my wounds still bleeding, each step a searing pain. At the entrance to the emergency room, several bodyguards in black suits stood. The light in the emergency room went out. Liam rushed over, grabbing the doctor who came out. “Where’s my son?” The doctor removed his mask, his face grim. “I’m sorry, we did our best.” The air froze. I stood a few meters away, watching Liam’s hand slowly relax, his whole body seeming to deflate. His voice was very soft. “What did you say?” “The child had no vital signs when he arrived. We performed CPR for forty minutes…” The doctor was still saying something, but I couldn’t hear it anymore. Because the emergency room door was pushed open, and a woman stumbled out. Cathy Lin. She was wearing a long white dress, her hair disheveled, her face streaked with tears. “Ethan! My Ethan!” She threw herself into Liam’s arms, her whole body shaking. “Liam, my Ethan, how could he…” Liam stood stiffly, not embracing her, just staring in the direction of the emergency room. His voice was cold. “What happened? Ethan was fine, how could something suddenly happen?” Cathy Lin sobbed, struggling for breath. “I don’t know, I was driving him home today, and suddenly a car hit us from behind. When I woke up, he was lying in a pool of blood…” As she spoke, she suddenly looked up, her gaze fixed on me. “It’s you! It must be you!” I froze. Cathy Lin tore herself from Liam’s embrace and stumbled towards me. “Iris Winter, you killed my son!” Her voice was shrill and piercing, and everyone in the hallway turned to look. “You hate Liam, you hate me, so you targeted Ethan!” She raised her hand to strike me. Liam grabbed my arm, yanking me in front of him. “Iris Winter, what do you have to say for yourself?” His eyes were bloodshot, like a deranged beast. I looked at him, and suddenly felt it was all so ridiculous. “Liam Bowen, why do you think I did it?” He spoke each word distinctly. “Because you hate me, you hate Cathy Lin, you hate Ethan.” “So the first thing you did after being reborn was abort our daughter, and the second was to target them.” I took a deep breath. “I didn’t.” Cathy Lin shrieked. “You’re still trying to argue! The police were just here, and they found the hit-and-run vehicle information!” She pointed at me, her voice shrill. “Liam, the police said the license plate number of that car belongs to Iris Winter!” I reeled. My car? But I hadn’t driven at all. I looked at Liam. “It wasn’t me. You can check the surveillance.” Cathy Lin sneered. “Surveillance can be faked! You just want to kill my son and me!” She started crying again. “Liam, you have to avenge Ethan. He was only five years old, still so small…” Liam’s grip tightened further. I felt like the bones in my arm were about to break. I stared at him. “If you don’t believe me, call the police.” He suddenly laughed, a chilling sound. “Call the police? Iris Winter, do you think I’d let you off that easy, just to go to prison?” He released my arm and turned to his bodyguards. “Take her.” “Where?” “To the outskirts.” His voice was soft, yet it sounded like a death sentence. “I’ll make her realize the price of killing my son.” The car drove for a long time. So long that the streetlights outside the window grew fewer and fewer, until finally, only darkness remained. I was thrown into the backseat, my hands and feet bound. The rough rope bit into my flesh, each breath tugging at the wounds on my wrists. Cathy Lin sat in the passenger seat, crying the entire time. Liam drove, not uttering a single word. I didn’t know where he was taking me. But I knew I might truly die tonight. The car jolted over a pothole, my body slamming hard against the car door, a sharp pain shooting through my shoulder. I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. The car finally stopped. I was dragged out, my feet landing on dirt. There was nothing around, only the silhouettes of a few bare trees in the distance. The middle of nowhere. A bodyguard roughly yanked my arm. I stumbled, my knee hitting a stone, the searing pain making my vision black out for a moment. Liam stood before me, looking down. “Iris Winter, I’ll ask you one last time.” “Did you kill Ethan?” I lifted my head, looking into his eyes. My lips were purple from pain and cold, my teeth chattering as I spoke. “No.” Liam nodded. “Good. Since you won’t admit it, I’ll make sure you can never speak again.” He turned to his bodyguards. “Dig a hole.” I froze. “Liam Bowen, what are you going to do?” His voice was calm. “Bury you alive. Just like you killed Ethan, I’ll make you taste despair.” The bodyguards began to dig. The sound of shovels piercing the earth was jarringly clear in the silent night. I watched the pit deepen, my heart aching. The wound on my knee was still bleeding, warm liquid running down my calf, soaking my pant leg. “Liam Bowen, you’re really insane.” In my previous life, I thought love could be exchanged for love, and patience for tenderness. In the end, all I got was our daughter’s urn and a self-immolation. In this life, I explicitly chose not to let our daughter be born, yet I still couldn’t change anything. Liam knelt down, pinching my jaw. His fingers were like iron tongs, gripping my mandible so tightly. “You forced me. In the last life, you killed our daughter. In this life, you killed Ethan.” “Iris Winter, how much more do you intend to destroy of mine?” I looked at his bloodshot eyes and suddenly felt so tired. “You never believed me.” Liam’s hand stiffened. “You’re not worth it!” Yes, I wasn’t worth it. Not worth him believing me even once. I stared into his eyes, my voice beginning to tremble. “Without any evidence, based solely on someone else’s words, are you going to sentence me to death?” Liam’s fist clenched and then relaxed. His voice was as cold as the stones in this desolate wilderness. “I don’t need evidence. I don’t need the police. Iris Winter, today, you will be buried with Ethan.” He waved his hand at the bodyguards. The two tall men walked over, gripping my arms from each side. I struggled desperately. “Liam Bowen, you can’t do this!” My bound wrists, under their pulling, had the rope deeply embedded in my flesh. I could feel my skin tearing, warm blood dripping from my fingers. With every step, the wound on my knee ripped further, the pain so intense I could barely stand. I used all my strength to try and break free, my legs frantically kicking the ground, leaving two deep marks in the dirt. “Liam Bowen, are you going to kill me here?” Liam pointed at the deep pit. “I’m going to bury you here.” The bodyguards dragged me towards the pit. In my previous life, I chose fire, burning completely, not even wanting to leave him ashes. In this life, he chose earth, to let me rot in an unknown wilderness, as if I had never existed. I desperately turned to look at him, tears blurring my vision. “Please, just believe me once! Just once! I didn’t do it! I really didn’t!” Liam stood at the edge of the pit, his overcoat billowing in the wind. Only his voice cut through the wind. “I don’t care anymore.” I screamed in despair. “No! Liam Bowen! You can’t do this!” Liam acted as if he hadn’t heard. He turned, his back to the deep pit, and said coldly, “Bury her!”

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