Category: English

1 It had been three years since my mother walked out on us. In that time, my father, Arthur Hayes, had crawled his way out of crushing debt, flipped his fortunes, and bought a sprawling modern estate in the wealthiest zip code in Massachusetts. In seven days, he was scheduled to marry Diane. Diane, who used a wheelchair. Diane, who had stayed. And right in the middle of all this, a new housekeeper arrived. My father was usually a master of boardroom politesse, extending a polished, detached courtesy to the staff. But with this new woman, he became someone I didn’t recognize. He was cruel. She would make dinner, and he would take one bite, drop his fork clattering against the porcelain, and say, “It’s completely bland.” Then he’d scrape the entire plate into the trash and force her to start over. He made her hand-wash his dress shirts. When she finished, he would hold the wet fabric to his nose, declare it smelled stale, and order her to scrub them three more times. When she mopped the hardwood floors, he would wait until she was done, walk straight across the wet planks in his muddy oxfords, and point at the ground. “Footprints everywhere. Are you blind, or just stupid? Do it again.” Through it all, she never said a word. She just kept her head bowed and went back to the bucket. One afternoon, coming home from school, I paused in the hallway. My father was in the living room with Diane. “That housekeeper,” my father was saying, his voice laced with a bitter, venomous edge. “It’s her. She might have changed her face, but it’s Eleanor. I’d know her anywhere.” Diane sounded stunned. “Arthur… then why haven’t you confronted her? Why haven’t you said anything?” “Because I hate her,” he hissed, the words tight and jagged. “She left me when I was broke. She abandoned her own child for a better life. Why the hell should I acknowledge her? I want her here. I want her doing the dirtiest, most degrading work in this house. I want her to suffer.” My brain buzzed, a sharp ringing in my ears. I bolted into the kitchen, finding the housekeeper at the sink. I reached out, my small hand grabbing the edge of her apron, tugging hard. “Are you… are you my mom?” I whispered. She dropped a glass. It shattered in the sink. She looked at me, panic flashing in her eyes. “Who told you that? You have the wrong person, sweetie.” “Dad said it,” I pushed, my voice trembling. “He said he knows who you are. He said he hates you, and that’s why he’s pretending he doesn’t know.” She froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. I stared up at her unfamiliar features—the different slope of her nose, the different shape of her jaw. “Mom,” I asked softly, “why does your face look different?” She slowly crouched down until we were eye-level. Her voice was terrifyingly calm. “Harper, I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t be afraid, okay?” she said gently. “I actually died three years ago. But Death cut me a deal. He gave me seven days to come back. If your father can recognize me, and if he looks at me and says ‘I love you,’ I get to stay.” She pinched my cheek and forced a small, shaky laugh. “Crazy, right? Sounds like a movie.” “What if he doesn’t say it?” I asked. “Then it means your dad has moved on,” she said softly. “And it will be time for me to go.” But I knew she was lying. Ever since I was little, I could see things other people couldn’t. Floating just above everyone’s head was a string of glowing, ticking numbers. A countdown. I watched them tick away, day by day, hour by hour. I looked at the space just above my mother’s head. Three days. Seeing me stare blankly, she smiled again and ruffled my hair. “I’m just messing with you, Harper. I made all that up. I just came back to see you. There’s no magic deal. I just got some cosmetic work done, that’s all. I’ll be leaving in three days.” I looked straight into her eyes. “You’re lying.” Her hand stopped in my hair. “Three days,” I whispered. “That’s all you have left before you die.” She went completely still. “I can see the numbers, Mom,” I pleaded. “I see them above everyone. I told Dad once, but he said I had an overactive imagination.” I gripped her apron tighter, my knuckles turning white. “I don’t want you to die. I want you to live.” For a long, agonizing moment, she just stared at me. Then she pulled me into a desperate, crushing hug. Her shoulders shook against me. “I want to stay with you, too,” she sobbed into my shoulder, her voice muffled and thick. “But at least I have three days. At least I get to be here for your birthday.” I pulled back, my eyes lighting up. “I’m going to go find Dad! I’m going to make him say he loves—” She clamped a hand over my mouth, shaking her head frantically. “No. It doesn’t work like that, Harper. It only counts if he says it because he wants to.” She wiped her eyes quickly and smoothed my hair. “Tell me something. Is Diane good to you?” I nodded slowly. “Yeah. She buys me dresses.” A sad, hollow smile touched my mother’s lips. “As long as she’s good to you, and your father is happy, I can leave in peace. So you have to promise me. No matter what happens these next few days, you cannot tell your father the truth. Let me just be here for your birthday. Promise?” I swallowed hard and nodded. The kitchen door violently swung open. My father stormed in, closing the distance in three strides. His hand came down in a vicious arc. Smack. My mother’s head snapped to the side. A dark red mark instantly bloomed across her cheek. “You poured boiling water on Diane’s legs!” he roared. My mother cupped her cheek, trembling. “I didn’t.” He wasn’t listening. He opened his mouth to scream again, but the motorized hum of a wheelchair interrupted him. Diane rolled into the kitchen, the pant legs of her loungewear pulled up, exposing her calves. I knew about Diane’s legs. She had started dating my dad the year after my mother left. He was drowning in debt back then, and Diane had emptied her savings to keep our heads above water. Then, when the business finally took off, there was a car accident. Diane had thrown herself in front of the steering column to shield my father. Her spine took the impact. She never walked again. My father had brought her home, hired the best private nurses, and given her the world. Diane reached out and touched my father’s sleeve. “Arthur, it’s fine,” she said with a soft, forgiving smile. “I can’t feel my legs anyway. It doesn’t hurt. Please don’t get so angry.” My father was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with rage. He pointed a shaking finger at my mother. “If you want to keep working in this house, you get on your knees and apologize to her right now.” I opened my mouth to defend her. I wanted to scream. But my mother shot me a look—a heavy, pleading glance that pinned my feet to the floor and trapped the words in my throat. Slowly, agonizingly, my mother sank to the tile. She bowed her head. “I am sorry.” Diane tugged my father’s sleeve again, murmuring that it was enough. Still seething, my father turned and wheeled Diane out of the room. My mother stood up slowly, her knees popping. She walked over and kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.” That night, she tucked me into bed, rubbing my back in slow circles until I drifted off. I don’t know what time it was, but a noise woke me. I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the thick carpet. The door to the guest bedroom was cracked open. I peeked through the sliver of light. My father had my mother pinned back against the edge of the mattress. One of his hands was gripping the collar of her shirt. “Eleanor,” he sneered, “gone for years, and now you decide to play the devoted mother?” She pushed at his chest, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He let out a dark, hollow laugh. “What, good enough for other men but not for me?” He leaned in closer. “Is that it? Did you think I was still the same broke loser you walked out on?” He snarled her name like a curse. “Eleanor. I have money now. So tell me. How much for a night?” She went rigid. Tears spilled over her lashes. “Arthur Hayes. Is that really what you think of me?” “Oh, drop the act,” he spat. “It’s exactly what you are. You abandoned your family for cash. Well, I’ve got it now. Name your price. I’ll pay it.” The tears fell faster now. She looked up into his eyes. “I don’t want your money.” “I just need you to say you love me.” My father froze. Then, a cruel, mocking smile twisted his mouth. “Love you? You don’t deserve the word. You disgust me.” He released her, turning to leave. “You’re marrying Diane next week, aren’t you?” she called out to his back. He stopped. “What do you want?” “We never finalized our divorce,” she said, her voice steadying. “Legally, I am still your wife. If I don’t sign the papers, your new marriage is bigamy.” My father slowly turned around, staring at her like she was a venomous snake. “What’s your game, Eleanor?” “Thirty percent of your company shares and liquid assets,” she said. “Give me that, and I sign the divorce papers.” He laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “You haven’t changed at all, have you?” He pulled out his phone and made a call. Ten minutes later, his assistant arrived at the front door with a thick stack of legal documents. He tossed them onto the bedroom desk. My mother read through them meticulously. When she reached the final page, she signed her name. My father snatched his copy. “You get the money and the shares. But I have one condition.” She looked up. “Until the wedding, you are Diane’s personal attendant. You don’t leave her side. Once the vows are exchanged, you can take your money and get out.” My mother nodded. The next morning, my father drove us all to an exclusive bridal boutique on Newbury Street. He had picked out the most expensive Vera Wang gown for Diane, and he ordered my mother to wheel her into the fitting room. My mother stood behind the wheelchair, slowly pushing Diane behind the heavy velvet curtains. A few minutes later, a piercing scream echoed from the fitting room. My father rushed in and carried Diane out in his arms. I gasped. The back of Diane’s pristine white gown was stained with blood. He whipped around, his eyes blazing at my mother. “You hid needles in her dress?!” My mother stood frozen by the curtain. “I didn’t.” He didn’t believe her for a second. He pointed toward the front door. “Go down the street to the pharmacy. Buy gauze and antiseptic.” She turned to go. “Leave your shoes.” My mother stopped. She looked down, slipped off her loafers, and left them by the door. She stepped out onto the cold, uneven Boston brick in her bare feet. I bolted after her. “Where are you going?!” my father yelled. I looked back at him. “To be with my mother.” He paused, a flicker of shock in his eyes. “So you know.” “Yes.” I ran out the door. She hadn’t gotten far. The pavement was brutal—littered with sharp gravel, broken glass, and rough brick. She walked excruciatingly slow. I walked right beside her. I didn’t say anything. I just stayed with her. It took us over a mile to find a pharmacy. By the time we got there, the soles of her feet were torn open, bleeding and coated in city grime. She bought the supplies, gripping the plastic bag in her hand, and set her jaw for the walk back. When we finally returned to the boutique, it was empty. “They left,” the sales associate said, looking at us with thinly veiled disdain. “He carried her out right after you walked out the door.” We sat on a bench outside. I gently applied the antiseptic and wrapped her ruined feet in gauze. She looked at her feet, and then at me. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.” Instead of calling a black car, we walked to the MBTA station. I hadn’t taken public transit in years. Since my dad’s company blew up, we only rode in tinted SUVs. My mother paid the fare and pulled me to the very back of the bus. She opened the window, letting the breeze in, and started pointing things out. She told me stories about growing up in these neighborhoods. She pointed to a corner bodega where she used to buy cheap popsicles, and an intersection where she scraped her knee falling off a bike. She spoke so slowly, so deliberately, as if she were rationing her words. Before I knew it, we were back at the estate. My father and Diane didn’t come home that night. I woke up the next morning to the sound of shattering glass. I ran to the living room to find a crystal vase smashed across the floor. My father’s face was dangerously red. “Look what you’ve done!” he screamed, pointing a trembling finger at my mother. “I am the top trending topic on Twitter right now! Me and Diane! ‘Tech CEO Abandons First Wife,’ ‘Forces Ex to Walk Barefoot.’ They’re calling me an abuser. They’re calling her a homewrecker!” He was hyperventilating now. “We had a deal, Eleanor! We signed the NDA! And you leak this to the press?!” “I didn’t do it,” she said calmly. The calmness only fueled his rage. “Who else could it be?! Who else knew what happened yesterday?!” He lunged forward and shoved her hard. She stumbled backward, losing her footing, and her head cracked sickeningly against the sharp edge of the marble coffee table. Blood immediately pooled, streaming down the side of her face. I screamed, sprinting to the kitchen for paper towels, pressing them frantically against her temple. My mother put her hand over mine. “It’s okay, Harper,” she whispered. “I don’t feel the pain.” She looked up at my father, who was staring at the blood, momentarily stunned. “Arthur, you have the resources. Look into the IP addresses. Find out who really leaked it. It wasn’t me.” A flicker of doubt crossed his face. For a split second, it looked almost like guilt. But he buried it just as fast. He turned away, his voice cold and robotic. “The damage is done. You are going to log onto your own accounts and post a statement. You will say we divorced years ago. You will say you tried to blackmail me, and that you were the one who hurt Diane.” My mother kept the bloody paper towel pressed to her head. She looked at his back. “Fine. I’ll post it.” “But I have a condition.” He looked back over his shoulder. “What?” “The equity and the money. The transfer happens right now. Today.” He stared at her for a long time. Whatever fleeting guilt he had felt evaporated into pure contempt. He let out a dark chuckle. “You really are something else, Eleanor.” He nodded. Within the hour, the lawyers arrived. My father signed. My mother signed. Then, using his phone, she posted the confession he demanded. She handed the phone back to him. “Today is our daughter’s birthday,” she said. “I want to spend the entire day with her. Neither of you are to come near us.” He didn’t reply. He just turned and walked out. The moment he left, my mother took me straight to the law firm in downtown Boston. In a quiet mahogany boardroom, she signed every single share, every property deed, every dollar she had just extorted from him into an irrevocable trust in my name. When we walked out of the high-rise building, she crouched down in the lobby, looking into my eyes. “Harper, I need to take two million from the cash side of the trust. Just enough to make sure your grandparents are taken care of for the rest of their lives. Is that okay with you?” I nodded vigorously. She smiled, a real, radiant smile, and kissed my forehead. Then she took me to the carnival down by the pier. We rode the carousel over and over again, her arm wrapped tightly around my waist, keeping me secure. After the rides, we went to a greasy pizza parlor. I hadn’t eaten pizza in forever; Diane always told me it was garbage that would ruin my figure. My mother pushed the last slice onto my plate, drinking only a glass of ice water. Then, she started talking. “Don’t ever give those shares to anyone, Harper. Not even your father.” “When you get a little older, you’re going to get your period. Don’t be scared. Try to avoid cold drinks when it happens, and use a heating pad for the cramps.” “Eat your vegetables. Don’t be picky.” “Make sure your feet are covered when you sleep, or you’ll catch a chill.” She spoke with a desperate urgency, trying to cram a lifetime of motherly advice into a thirty-minute lunch. I just kept nodding, tears stinging the back of my eyes. Nodding and nodding. The sun began to set, casting long, orange shadows across the city. I looked up at the space above her head. Three hours. She looked at the sky too. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go see Grandma and Grandpa. I want to see them one last time, and give them the money.” We took an Uber to a gritty, working-class neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. The apartment building was an old, towering brick structure, worn down by decades of brutal winters. We had just stepped out of the car, standing on the cracked pavement beneath the fire escapes. I didn’t even have time to register what was happening. I just saw the shadows falling. THUD. Two heavy, sickening impacts, hitting the concrete almost simultaneously. My mother screamed. She lunged forward, throwing herself onto the pavement, shrieking like a wounded animal. “Mom! Dad!” My grandparents lay contorted on the concrete, a dark, terrible red expanding rapidly beneath them. My mother’s voice gave out. She was just dry-heaving and sobbing, clawing at the ground. I stood frozen, my hands gripping the hem of my shirt, unable to process the nightmare in front of me. Then, the heavy metal door of the apartment lobby swung open. My father walked out, pushing Diane in her wheelchair. My mother’s head snapped up. Her eyes were bloodshot, feral. “Why are you here?!” she screamed. My father frowned, looking genuinely shaken by the bodies. “Diane wanted to check on them. She said she felt bad about the media circus, wanted to bring them some groceries, make sure they were holding up.” “I was in their kitchen unpacking the bags,” Diane whimpered, her hands covering her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all my fault.” “I put the TV on for them while I was putting things away… and the local news was on. They were talking about the viral posts. About you being a blackmailer, about you attacking me…” Diane sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “The shame was just too much for them. They couldn’t handle the humiliation…” My mother didn’t blink. She just stared at Diane. Slowly, she stood up. I don’t know where she found it—maybe dropped from the groceries, maybe she grabbed it from the debris—but she was holding a long, serrated kitchen knife. She lunged. Before anyone could react, she drove the blade straight into Diane’s stomach. Diane shrieked, a high-pitched, guttural sound, as blood instantly bloomed through her designer blouse. My father reacted purely on instinct. He kicked my mother squarely in the chest. She flew backward, hitting the pavement hard, gasping for air. Panic erupted. My father scooped Diane into his arms, screaming at his security detail who had just pulled up. “Get the car! Get them both in the back!” The bodyguards hauled my mother off the ground by her arms, shoving us both into the trailing SUV. At the emergency room, the doctors rushed Diane into surgery. Minutes felt like hours. Finally, a surgeon stepped through the double doors, his mask pulled down. “She’s hemorrhaging,” he told my father. “We need O-negative blood, immediately. The hospital’s supply is depleted.” My father’s gaze shifted to my mother, slumped in a plastic waiting room chair. “Eleanor,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You’re O-negative, aren’t you? The universal donor.” “Draw hers.” I threw myself in front of my mother, spreading my arms wide. “No! Don’t touch her!” I screamed at my father. “She only has one hour left! If you do this, you’ll kill her faster!” My father grabbed my arm and shoved me aside. “Stop throwing tantrums, Harper.” I grabbed his jacket, tears pouring down my face. “Dad, please! All you have to do is tell her you love her! Just say it, and she can give the blood, and she won’t die! Please!” He stared down at me. Then, a cold, disgusted sneer curled his lips. “She bought you a few slices of pizza, and you’re already taking her side?” he scoffed. “Diane has been a mother to you for three years. She took care of you. And this is how you repay her?” He didn’t even look at my mother. He signaled to his guards. “Restrain the kid.” A massive hand clamped onto my shoulder, pulling me back. I fought, kicking and screaming, but I was entirely powerless. I could only watch as the nurses, intimidated by my father’s wealth and rage, led my mother away. She didn’t fight them. She just looked back at me over her shoulder. And she smiled. A small, gentle, heartbreaking smile. As if to say, It’s okay. Thirty minutes later, the surgeon emerged again, nodding to my father. Diane was stable. I ripped myself away from the bodyguard and sprinted down the hall, bursting into the recovery room. My mother was lying on a hospital bed. Her lips were blue. Her breathing was so shallow her chest barely moved. She saw me, and her fingers twitched. I ran to the bedside and grabbed her cold hand. “Mom…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Take care… of yourself, Harper.” Her eyes fluttered. “Diane… she isn’t… what she seems. Remember that.” She squeezed my hand one last time. A faint, ghostly pressure. Then, her grip went slack. I looked up at the space above her head. The numbers flickered. 0:00:00. And then, right before my eyes, her face began to shift. The bone structure softened, the jawline changed. The unfamiliar features melted away. She was my mother again. The face from my memories. The face from the photographs. Hours passed. I sat in the chair, holding her lifeless hand as the sun went down. The door creaked open. My father walked in, carrying a tray of cafeteria food and some expensive juices. “Where’s your mother?” he asked, looking around the room, annoyed. “She’s dead.” My father stopped. He let out a short, incredulous laugh. “You’re turning into quite the little liar, aren’t you? She donated a pint of blood, Harper. She’s just being dramatic.” He walked toward the bed, setting the tray down. “Why are you covering her face—” He pulled back the hospital sheet. He saw her face. And the world stopped.

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At 2 AM, my boyfriend, Ethan Carter, rushed into my sister Chloe’s bedroom, shirtless. He scooped our crying, hungry nephew, Leo, into his arms. With his other hand, he casually pinched Chloe’s cheek. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’ll soothe Leo at night. Stop trying to do everything yourself.” Then he turned to look at me, the warmth on his face instantly freezing over. “And you, Vivian. You know Chloe is still recovering. Why aren’t you helping with Leo? Go make him a bottle of formula, now!” My fingers gripped the doorframe tightly. I couldn’t say a single word. Chloe playfully slapped his chest. “I’m engorged in the middle of the night, Ethan. If I don’t feed him, are you going to massage my breasts when I get mastitis?” “I am your girlfriend’s older sister, after all! Watch out, or I won’t let Vivian marry you!” Ethan didn’t back down. He reached out to tickle her waist, though his eyes remained on me. “Vivian, what are you standing there for? Go make some warm chicken soup for Chloe to rebuild her strength.” Chloe laughed and shrunk into his chest. Baby Leo was squeezed between them, babbling happily. They looked exactly like a happy family of three. Since he wanted so badly to be my sister’s husband, I decided to find myself a new one.

I took out my phone, scrolled to a chat history I hadn’t opened in a long time, and sent a message: “You once said if I wasn’t married by thirty, you’d marry me. Does that still stand?” The reply came instantly: “Always. Anytime.” I quietly put down the baby bottle Ethan had shoved into my hands and turned to leave. Behind me, Chloe let out a soft gasp. “Oh stop it, I’m leaking! Hand Leo to me quickly!” Ethan, looking annoyed yet fond, gently swatted Chloe’s hip. “How many times do I have to tell you? No breastfeeding! Your body is already weak. If you don’t listen, I’ll really have to punish you!” Chloe covered her chest in mock embarrassment. Ethan didn’t even look at me. He sat beside her, carefully patting the baby to feed him. He didn’t seem to care at all that he was still shirtless. Without turning his head, he ordered me: “Vivian, hurry up and make Leo’s formula, then get the soup simmering.” “Make sure it’s perfect, or this little greedy cat here will find another excuse not to drink it.” Chloe blushed, playfully pulling his ear. “Ethan, I think I need to teach you some manners today!” Ethan’s eyes were full of tenderness as he reached out to tickle her waist again. The two of them carried on, laughing and fooling around, with Leo giggling in the middle. Finally, he noticed I was still standing in the doorway. His face darkened instantly. “Why are you still standing there like a statue? Can’t you see Leo is crying his eyes out?” I stared at them silently for two seconds. He was holding Leo, Chloe was leaning against his shoulder, and the three of them were huddled close. It was a perfectly harmonious picture. I turned around and walked out, opening the front door. A handsome face appeared in the hallway. Julian Vance was leaning against the wall, looking at me with a half-smile. “Wow. Did you get kicked out of your own place in the middle of the night again?” “Come on in. Let me play the hero today.” I followed him into his apartment. “If I remember correctly, this is the ninth time you’ve walked out, right?” I didn’t say anything. I took the mug of hot tea he handed me and stared at the rising steam. My mind was filled with everything that had happened over the last three months. When my sister got divorced and had nowhere to go with her baby, my heart softened. I let her move in. But within a month, I became the outsider in my own home. On our anniversary, a date I had been looking forward to for a week, Ethan sent me a text: “Leo has a fever. I’m taking Chloe and him to the ER. Might not make it back tonight.” I sat in the restaurant alone, staring at the candle for two hours. When I got home, I saw Ethan crouching on the living room floor, clapping his hands. “Say Dada, say Dada.” Leo opened his little mouth and mumbled, “Da… Da…” Ethan smiled so wide his eyes crinkled, and he lifted the baby high above his head. I stood at the doorway, not even having changed out of my shoes yet. Chloe saw me and smiled warmly. “Vivian, I’ve tested him for you. Ethan is definitely a family man. He’s going to be great with kids in the future.” She winked at me as she spoke. I twitched my lips but didn’t reply. Chloe probably noticed my unhappiness. Her face stiffened, and she suddenly picked up Leo and started packing her bags. “Fine. I guess we are in the way here. We’ll leave.” Ethan immediately stopped her. “Where are you going alone with a baby? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?” Chloe cried, saying she didn’t need his help. “I’m your sister’s boyfriend. It’s my duty to protect you and the baby. Just stay here. Don’t go anywhere.” Over and over again, this happened. The warmth in my heart turned lukewarm, then cool, and today— It had gone completely cold. Snapping out of my memories, I spoke softly: “Let’s get married.” Julian trembled. The hot tea splashed onto his hand, making him hiss in pain. But he didn’t even care about his hand. He stared at me blankly, as if he had misheard. “…Are you serious?” “Yes.” He set his mug on the table and nodded vigorously. “Okay. We’ll go to City Hall the day after tomorrow.”

I pushed open the door to my apartment. Ethan and Chloe were still messing around. “You’re basically a guy in my eyes. Who would even want you?” Chloe joked. She puffed out her chest. “Are you blind? I’m a 36E. You can’t see that?” Ethan looked her up and down, purposely scoffing. “Are those even real?” Chloe pounced on him, hitting him playfully while he laughed and dodged. “Of course they’re real!” Squeezed between them, Leo let out a burst of giggles. I watched them quietly. Eventually, they realized something was wrong. The laughter gradually died down. Chloe let go of him and smoothed her hair. Ethan also sobered up and cleared his throat. I turned and walked back into my room. The moment the door closed, I heard their whispered voices outside. “Shoot, is Vivian mad?” “Don’t worry about her. She’ll get over it in a bit.” I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, the door opened. Ethan walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Vivian, it’s not easy for your sister to raise a baby alone. You need to be more mature. Don’t make things harder for her.” I rolled over to face him. “So, you mean I should come home from working overtime in the middle of the night and still babysit for her?” “Don’t you think I’m tired too?” He scoffed. “If you’re that tired, just quit your job. It’s not like I can’t support you.” “Besides, it’s better if you stay home to help with Leo.” I opened my mouth, but suddenly, I had nothing left to say. A few days later, Ethan had a college reunion. Right after we sat down, Chloe showed up with Leo in her arms. “Vivian, I’m so sorry…” “Leo kept crying for Ethan. He grew up without a father, so he probably views Ethan as his dad…” As soon as Leo saw Ethan, he reached out his tiny hands. “Dada! Dada, hold!” Ethan smiled, taking the baby and cradling him expertly in his arms. He glared at Chloe. “Why did you bring the baby out all by yourself? You should’ve called me so I could pick you guys up. What if you hurt your back again?” Chloe lowered her head, whispering, “I didn’t want to ruin your night…” Ethan reached out with his free hand to pat her shoulder. “Don’t be silly.” Seeing this, Ethan’s old classmates started teasing him. “Wow, Ethan! Living the dream, huh?” “Two beautiful women by your side. Not bad, man!” Chloe giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, stop. He’s just being a gentleman.” One classmate leaned in and asked, “So, Chloe, do you like guys like Ethan?” Chloe stole a glance at Ethan and smiled. “Him? Please. He’s lazy and a glutton. The only thing he’s good at is taking care of the baby.” Ethan acted offended. “Only good at that? Leo only sleeps when I put him down. Can you do that?” “I was just giving you a chance to show off!” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, thank you so much then.” Ethan joked back, making her laugh. They kept bantering back and forth, completely ignoring everyone else. I picked up my glass and downed the drink. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” I stood up and walked out. At the end of the hallway, near the corner. I heard those familiar voices. “You’ve been working too hard taking care of Leo. Your lips are so dry they’re cracking.” “Hold still. Let me put some balm on for you.” My footsteps froze. Around the corner, Chloe’s lipstick was completely smudged. Ethan was wiping his own lips with a lingering look.

Seeing me, Chloe froze for a second. Then, she immediately grabbed my hand and complained: “Vivian, thank god you’re here. You need to talk to your boyfriend. He is so petty! I just teased him a bit and he started lecturing me. Is it a crime to be a mother?” As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears. I said nothing. Back in the private dining room, everyone started playing drinking games. Chloe got super into it, but she kept losing. Soon, it was her turn to take a penalty shot. Just as she was about to grab the glass, Ethan slammed his hand over hers. “Chloe is still breastfeeding. She can’t drink. I’ll drink for her.” My best friend, Harper, slammed her fork down onto the plate. “Ethan Carter, in what capacity are you drinking for her?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Chloe bit her lip, her eyes turning red as she looked at Ethan with a pitiful expression. Ethan remained silent for a few seconds, then pushed the glass in front of me. “I was going to drink for your sister, but since some people want to make a scene, you drink it.” I picked up the glass and drank it all. Glass after glass followed. Chloe kept playing. She was terrible at the game but insisted on playing, losing round after round. Every time she lost, she would let out a whiny “Oh no!” and turn her eyes to Ethan. And Ethan would just push the alcohol in front of me. “Drink.” I lost count of how many glasses I had. My stomach felt like it was on fire, burning from my throat down to my gut. The lights in the room began to blur, and people’s faces spun. Their laughter sounded muffled, like they were underwater. I slumped onto the table, digging my nails into my palms to stay conscious. “No more… I really can’t drink anymore…” Ethan frowned. “It’s only been a few drinks. Don’t be a party pooper.” Another cold liquid forced its way down my throat. My stomach convulsed violently. A metallic, sweet taste rushed up. I covered my mouth, but I couldn’t stop it. Bright red blood seeped through my fingers, dripping onto the white tablecloth, blooming like morbid flowers. “Oh my god! She’s coughing up blood!” “Quick! Get her to the hospital!” Right at that moment, Chloe suddenly clutched her chest, groaning in pain. “My mastitis is flaring up… it hurts so bad…” Ethan pushed through the crowd, bent down, and scooped Chloe up in his arms. He walked out with giant strides. He didn’t even look back at me once. The car we had bought together carried the three of them away, disappearing into the night. Everyone else had been drinking, so no one could drive. It took two hours for an Uber to arrive. By the time I was brought to the hospital, I was already unconscious. The diagnosis: acute alcohol poisoning and stomach bleeding. The nurse went through my phone, found my emergency contact, and called him repeatedly. Finally, the call went through. Ethan’s irritated voice blasted through the speaker: “Are you done yet? Chloe has a 101-degree fever! Do you have any idea how dangerous mastitis is?” “If you have time to throw a tantrum, go home and take care of Leo. The nanny’s shift is over!” “Sir, your girlfriend has acute alcohol poisoning and a stomach bleed. We need a family member to sign—” “What kind of game is she playing now? She sees her sister get sick, so now she has to be sick too? I don’t have time for her drama!” Beep— Beep— Beep— The other patients and their families in the ER stared at me. Their eyes were filled with pity and sympathy. The next morning, the ward door was pushed open. Ethan walked in and grabbed my arm roughly. “Let’s go. Go apologize to Chloe. She was worrying about you even with a high fever, and here you are, playing the victim.” He pulled me so hard the IV needle almost ripped out of my skin. “Let go of her!” The nurse rushed over and pulled me back. “The patient needs rest!” Ethan sneered. “Stop acting! Get out of bed and come apologize!” I closed my eyes and gathered every ounce of strength I had left to say: “Let’s break up.” Ethan froze. Then, he let out a cold laugh and slammed the door. “What kind of nonsense is this? Don’t use that to threaten me.” A moment later, the door was pushed open again. Chloe was dragging Ethan in by his ear. “Vivian, are you mad at him?”

Chloe twisted his ear while winking at me. “He told me everything. He was just in a rush to save me and accidentally left you behind. This idiot doesn’t have a brain. Don’t take it personally.” Ethan tilted his head to ease the pain, groaning “Ow, ow,” but a smile remained on his face. Chloe let go and smacked the back of his head. “What are you standing there for? Apologize to Vivian!” “Why should I? I—” “You what?” Chloe stood with her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised. “Vivian is your girlfriend! No matter how you look at it, you were in the wrong!” “I’m telling you, Ethan, no matter what, you must put Vivian first. Do you hear me?” Ethan nodded repeatedly under her lecture. “Yes, yes, my little manager. Whatever you say.” Only then did he turn to me, his tone lazy and insincere: “Vivian, if this ever happens again, I promise I’ll save you first. Satisfied now?” After that, he turned back to Chloe, his voice instantly softening. “You should go back and rest. You still have a fever. It’s going to hurt again if you leak.” Chloe wanted to say something else, but he was already holding her shoulders, gently pushing her toward the door. He glanced back at me, his face filled with impatience. “And you, if you’re sick, just lie down and stop causing drama. Getting angry isn’t going to help you recover, you know?” I smiled slightly. “I’m not angry.” “Really?” “Really.” Chloe let out a sigh of relief, a pleased smile spreading across her face. “That’s good. Don’t worry, Vivian, I’ll keep an eye on him for you.” “I met the wrong man in the past and got hurt, so I have experience. I’ll make sure he never treats you badly.” The smile on my face deepened. Ethan casually asked, “What do you want to eat? I’ll have someone deliver it.” “Don’t worry about it.” “I’ll just grab whatever. Go help Chloe. She has the baby and needs you more.” Ethan paused, seemingly surprised by my words. I added, “I’m used to it.” Those words seemed to prick him like a tiny thorn. He froze, staring at me for a few seconds. Then, his expression relaxed. “Good. You’re finally growing up.” “Well, at least you learned a lesson from this.” He had forced me to drink for Chloe, glass after glass. I drank until my stomach bled, throwing up blood, and was left waiting for an Uber for two hours. When I was brought to the hospital, the doctor said if I had been ten minutes later, even God couldn’t have saved me. I almost lost my life. And all I got in return was—You’re finally growing up. “If you can keep acting like this—mature and sensible—I might actually consider finding a good date to propose to you.” “Are you thrilled?” I didn’t say a word. He took my silence as being speechless with joy, nodded in satisfaction, and walked out supporting Chloe. The ward fell silent. I ripped the IV needle out of my hand and began packing my things. Two hours later, in front of City Hall. Julian Vance and I walked down the steps side by side, holding our marriage certificate. We ran straight into Ethan, who was holding Leo, with Chloe clinging to his arm. “Vivian Miller, what are you doing here?” “I only said I’d consider proposing, and you rushed to City Hall? Are you that desperate?” Julian reached out and wrapped his arm around my waist. Chloe’s face fell. “Vivian, what is wrong with you? Marriage is a serious thing!” “You and Ethan have been together for years. How can you throw yourself at another man right in front of him?” “You are embarrassing our family!” Looking at Chloe’s self-righteous face, I smiled. “Oh, so you know that throwing yourself at a man is embarrassing?” “Then what do you call what you’ve been doing with your sister’s boyfriend?” Her face turned bright red instantly. She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out. Ethan’s face darkened. “Vivian, you don’t even respect your own sister. If you marry into my family, are you going to treat my parents like this too?” “I was actually thinking that if you behaved yourself, I’d propose to you soon.” “But now, it looks like we need to put that on hold. Go home and reflect on your actions.” He finished speaking, lifting his chin, waiting to see me panic and beg for his forgiveness. Beside me, Julian pulled out our marriage certificate from his pocket and held it right in front of Ethan’s face. “Who gave you the right to bark at my wife?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462026”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On the day of my wife’s first love’s wedding, she went completely mad. She stormed the altar with a knife, stabbing him dozens of times until he was dead, and then she slit her own throat. Standing in the crowd, watching the bloodbath, I was frozen in shock. That was the moment I realized the woman I had loved for five years had never actually loved me. Her heart belonged to someone else. So when I woke up back in time, reliving this life, she didn’t hesitate. She threw me away like trash to chase after him. I thought we would never cross paths again. I was wrong. Six years later, our paths crossed again at the Grand Plaza Mall. She was now parading around as the wife of the mall’s General Manager, Derek Vance. He was doing a walk-through inspection with her by his side. The moment she spotted me, her lip curled in disgust. “Stalking me now, Ethan? Let me make this clear: I’m married. You and I are ancient history. Get over it.” I didn’t even bother to reply. I turned around and headed toward the baby section to grab some diapers for my daughter. But she chased me down, snatched the pack of diapers from my hands, slammed them onto the floor, and stomped on them with her high heels. “You’re married with a kid? You used to swear you’d never marry anyone but me! You liar!” 0

I never expected to run into Chloe at the Grand Plaza Mall. She was clinging to Derek’s arm as he did a routine inspection of the luxury boutiques. The sales associates were practically tripping over themselves to serve her. “Mrs. Vance, this is our latest arrival. It’s a limited edition. If you like it, I can offer you a twenty percent discount.” “Just make sure you reserve the best spot for our brand next season,” Chloe said, playing the part of the powerful manager’s wife. “Of course! And the diamond necklace you asked about last time? I saved it just for you.” Derek glanced at the jewelry case and nodded. “Take it. It’ll look perfect on you at our engagement party next week.” “Engagement party? I see you and Mr. Vance together all the time. I thought you guys were already married!” one of the salesgirls asked innocently. Chloe’s smile froze. Realizing her blunder, the salesgirl quickly backpedaled. “Oh, I just meant you look so perfect together, like a happily married couple!” Hearing them kiss her feet, I couldn’t help but let out a soft, mocking chuckle. In our past life, Chloe had gone completely insane when she saw Derek marrying someone else. She had crashed his wedding, slaughtered him, and killed herself to join him in death. I never understood it. If she loved him that much, why did they ever split up in our first life? But after we were reborn, she didn’t hesitate to dump me instantly to chase her happily-ever-after. Yet, here we were, six years later, and they still weren’t married. They were only just getting engaged now. “Derek has been so focused on his career these past few years,” Chloe said, gazing up at him with dripping adoration. “He asked me to marry him so many times, but his career is on the rise. I didn’t want my own happiness to get in the way of his future.” Wow. She sure knew how to play the supportive partner for him. Back when she was with me, she did nothing but look down on me, constantly complaining that I was a broke loser. It turned out she wasn’t incapable of empathy. She just didn’t love me. I lowered my eyes, completely ignoring her, and turned toward the baby store to buy some supplies. “Ethan? What are you doing here?” Chloe’s sharp voice cut through the air behind me. I stopped and turned. Chloe was standing right there, glaring at me. The salesgirl looked at us, confused. “Is this gentleman a friend of yours, Chloe? If he’s shopping here, we can give him a discount too.” Chloe smirked, her eyes dripping with disdain. “A friend? Please. He’s just a dirt-broke ex of mine. Back then, he couldn’t even afford a hundred-dollar necklace. There’s no way he can buy anything in this mall.” “An ex?” The salesgirl glanced nervously at Derek. Derek didn’t seem to care; instead, he pulled Chloe tightly against his waist, looking down his nose at me like a conquering king. “Did you even check the price tags before walking in here? Don’t make a fool of yourself when you realize you can’t afford a single thing,” Derek sneered. “Whether I can afford it or not has absolutely nothing to do with you,” I said coldly. Chloe’s face instantly twisted in anger. “If you’re that desperate, maybe I can throw a little charity your way. Or wait… did you hear about my engagement and stalk me here on purpose?” Chloe mocked. Hearing this, Derek stepped forward, standing right beside Chloe and sizing me up with a condescending glare. “Ethan, Chloe told me all about how you used to harass her. I thought she was just being nice, but you really are a creep.” “You didn’t appreciate her when she was yours. Now that she’s marrying me, you’re drowning in regret?” Derek’s face flushed with anger, glaring at me like he wanted to pick a fight. Only because Chloe held his hand did he restrain himself from throwing a punch. “Ethan, I made it crystal clear when we broke up. There is absolutely no chance for us. Why can’t you just let me go?” “I know you’re broke, and seeing me doing so well makes you bitter, but this is just sad.” Derek scoffed. “A man with no real skills trying to leech off his ex-girlfriend. Absolutely pathetic.” “Just look at what you’re wearing. Not a single designer label.” I looked down at my custom suit. It was a bespoke Italian piece, hand-tailored and literally one of a kind. A low-level mall manager like Derek obviously didn’t have the class to recognize true luxury. Seeing my silence, he smugly pulled out his wallet, grabbed a few bills, and slapped them against my chest, letting them flutter to the floor. “This should cover your groceries for a month. Now get lost and stop bothering us.” The hundred-dollar bills scattered on the floor. Chloe smirked. “What? Still not enough?” She glanced down at her own empty designer clutch. “Well, people don’t really carry cash these days. How about I transfer it to you? How does ten grand sound?” “That’s probably more than you can save in two years of hard labor.” I remained silent. Chloe pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat, and tried to send the cash transfer. But the second she hit send, a bright red exclamation mark popped up on her screen. 0

“Ethan!” Chloe suddenly shoved her phone screen in front of my face and shrieked, startling the shoppers around us. “You actually blocked me?!” I found her outrage ridiculous. Isn’t blocking your ex standard procedure after a breakup to avoid drama? Besides, I had a family and a child now. My wife, Audrey, was already a bit insecure due to her past trauma; keeping an ex on my Snapchat was just asking for trouble. “Why wouldn’t I block you? We broke up years ago. We have nothing to say to each other.” Chloe’s smug face instantly turned incredibly dark. “Nothing to say?” she spat, her teeth gritted. I nodded calmly. “It’s been six years, Chloe. Keep your money. I don’t need a single dime from you.” My refusal made her look even more monstrous. “Ethan, who do you think you’re fooling? Act like a big shot all you want, but I know exactly how broke you are.” “Do you even know who my fiancé is? He’s the General Manager of this entire mall, and this place is owned by Summit Enterprises! Don’t embarrass yourself.” Derek grinned proudly, puffing out his chest. “Chloe, why bother talking to this loser? A peasant like him has probably never even heard of Summit Enterprises.” “He’s destined to rot at the bottom of the food chain forever.” I stared at the smug Derek. He seemed to have completely forgotten how he secured this GM position in the first place. Derek used to be a low-level cubicle drone at Summit. He had zero talent but loved to brag that he was the company’s rising star, claiming they’d go bankrupt without him. Chloe’s parents were respected college professors—dignified, rational people. They saw right through his lies and absolutely despised him. But Derek’s cheap, sweet-talking charm worked like magic on a naive girl like her. She refused to leave him, and it took her parents threatening to end their own lives to force her to break up with him. During that dark period, Chloe was like a hollow shell. I was the one who stayed up night after night, taking care of her and piecing her back together. Naturally, we ended up dating. But while we were together, my business proposals would mysteriously vanish from my laptop. Meanwhile, Derek’s career at Summit suddenly took off like a rocket. I brought this up to Chloe multiple times, but she always brushed it off as a coincidence. Once she agreed to marry me, I finally let it go. I thought she would change after marriage. But the moment she heard Derek was marrying another woman, she lost all sanity. She slaughtered him and died for him. Her love for him was bordering on psychotic, unmatched by anyone. So, after being reborn, the first thing she did was dump me. She used her memories of my past proposals from our previous life to help Derek climb the corporate ladder. The moment she asked for a breakup, I agreed without a single second of hesitation. Because I knew I couldn’t stop her, and frankly, I didn’t want to. I just didn’t expect our paths to cross like this. “I’m sorry, but how I live my life is none of your concern. Now, please move. I have shopping to do.” Derek stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “What’s the matter? Exposed, so now you want to run?” “Stalking Chloe just so she’ll take pity on you and throw you a bone, huh?” The salesgirls nearby began whispering, shooting me disgusted looks. “What a shameless ex-boyfriend. He’s still harassing her after all this time.” “It’s sickening. He probably saw how rich she got and crawled back to leech off her!” Derek smirked, enjoying the peanut gallery. “Tell you what. Since you’re Chloe’s ex, if you promise never to bother us again, I can pull some strings and get you a job here at the mall.” “Oh my god, Mr. Vance is too kind! He’s actually offering her pathetic ex a job!” “What a gentleman. Unlike this shameless loser!” Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a Snapchat message from my wife: *’Babe, didn’t I ask you to grab some diapers from our mall? What’s taking so long?’* 0

Before I could even reply, Chloe snatched my phone and slammed it onto the hard marble floor. *Crash.* “Ethan! Are you even listening to us?” “Derek is offering you a job! You should be begging on your knees in gratitude! People would kill for this opportunity!” I looked down at my shattered phone on the floor. “I don’t need a job, and I don’t need his charity. But you are going to pay for my phone.” She let out a scoff. “Look at you, crying over a cheap phone. How much could it possibly cost?” “Are you unemployed and too proud to accept our help?” “Don’t worry, we’d only put you on dishwashing or janitorial duty anyway. You don’t need to feel guilty.” She was completely convinced I was asking for money because I was broke. What she didn’t know was that I owned this entire mall. When my wife, Audrey, first took over as the CEO of Summit Enterprises, the greedy board of directors tried to overthrow her. I took over this failing mall, completely turned it around, and secured her position. Since then, she had left the mall’s operations entirely in my hands. “I’m asking you to pay because you broke it. That’s just basic accountability. It has nothing to do with my financial status,” I said, too tired to explain. Even if I told her I owned this entire mall, she’d just think I was lying. In her eyes, I would always be inferior to her precious Derek. “As if a wealthy person would cry over a stupid phone,” she sneered. “Is that so?” Before she could even blink, I stepped forward, reached into Chloe’s pocket, snatched her phone, and slammed it onto the marble floor. *Smash.* It shattered with a loud, satisfying crunch. The salesgirls and shoppers gasped in horror. “Since you’re so rich, you shouldn’t care about a stupid phone, right?” I asked, echoing her words. Chloe’s face turned red, then green with rage. “Ethan! Are you doing this on purpose? Is my phone the same as your cheap piece of trash?” “I just got this! It’s the latest iPhone and cost over fifteen hundred dollars!” “Well, fifteen hundred dollars is pocket change to you. Surely, Chloe, you won’t hold a grudge over something so small?” Chloe looked around at the onlookers. To save face in front of the salesgirls, she gritted her teeth and forced a stiff smile. “Of course not. I’m not like you, crying over pennies.” “Perfect. Since you don’t mind, I do. I’m just a broke guy, remember? You still owe me for my phone.” Chloe’s fake smile shattered instantly. “Ethan, I have never seen anyone so shameless and greedy!” “You smashed my phone and still expect me to pay you? In your dreams!” “You said you didn’t care about the money. I never said I didn’t.” “You…!” She was completely speechless, her chest heaving with rage. “Fine! It’s just a phone. I’ll pay you. But since my phone is broken, I’ll transfer it to you once I get a new one!” she spat. I nodded. “Great. My number hasn’t changed. Remember to send it.” I bent down, picked up my broken phone, and turned to leave. But behind me, Chloe burst into a smug laugh. “I knew it! You broke my phone just so you could have a valid excuse to get my Snapchat again.” “If you wanted my contact info, you could have just asked. Why play these childish games?” “And keeping your number the same all these years… were you waiting for me to come back to you?” Derek’s face went extremely dark. He stepped forward and yelled, “Ethan! I’m telling you, you and Chloe are over! Don’t even dream about it!” “If you try to ruin our lives, I’ll make sure you regret it!” “Do I need your mercy? Let me repeat myself: Chloe and I broke up. We have no relationship now, and we never will.” “Everything she’s saying is just her own delusional fantasy. Running into you today was a pure accident.” “Don’t worry, the moment I get the money, I’ll block her again. I won’t pose any threat to your precious marriage.” I paused, looking Derek dead in the eye with a smirk. “Are you warning me because you’re afraid she’ll fall back in love with me?” “Are you insecure because you know you’re inferior to me?” “Bullshit!” Derek roared, his face contorting. “Inferior to you? Then why did Chloe choose me over you in the end?” He looked like he was about to swing at me. Chloe noticed his anger and quickly hugged his arm. “Derek, don’t let him get to you. He’s just trying to provoke you. A worthless man like him isn’t even worth your pinky finger.” “I chose you, and I will always choose you.” “No one can ever replace you in my heart.” Hearing this, Derek’s chest puffed up again, and his expression softened. I didn’t even bother to roll my eyes. I walked past them and straight into the baby store next door. But Chloe wasn’t done. She followed me right in, looking absolutely furious. While I was carefully picking out diapers and baby formula, she marched over, ripped the package out of my hand, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. “Ethan! You refuse a good job from us, but here you are buying diapers? What, are you working as a male nanny now?” “How pathetic. Look what you’ve reduced yourself to.” “I’m warning you, if you ever dare to speak to Derek like that again, I’ll make you pay!” “Weren’t you the one who started this ridiculous conversation?” I asked, unimpressed. Before she could scream back, a store clerk interrupted us. “Mr. Carter, your wife sent me to ask when you’ll be done. She wants to know if you’ve got everything.” Chloe froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What… what did you just call him?” “Mr. Carter?” 0

“Why did you call him Mr. Carter? Does a loser like him even deserve that title?” Chloe pointed at my face, her voice rising in anger. “Look at him! He’s just a nobody who needs my charity to even get a job!” The clerk looked at me, thoroughly confused. I met Chloe’s gaze. She let out a dry laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned against a display shelf. “Ethan, did you hire this actor to play a part?” “You knew I’d be here today, so you staged this whole drama just to show off? To prove you’re doing great without me?” “You want me to regret leaving you, don’t you?” “This trick is so outdated. It’s pathetic.” I looked at her smug face. “You think way too highly of yourself.” I ignored her and went back to picking diapers. Audrey was waiting at home, and she’d worry if I took too long. “Ethan! Are you seriously ignoring me?” “What is with that stupid, silent treatment!” “Diapers! Why are you so obsessed with these stupid diapers!” Chloe lost her temper and tried to push past, but the clerk stepped in, blocking her path. “Ma’am, please stop causing a scene. If you continue, I’ll have security escort you out.” “Also, Mr. Carter is not a nanny. He is buying diapers for his own daughter.” Chloe glared at the clerk, her eyes wild with fury. “Get out of my way!” “I said, move!” The clerk stood firm. Chloe raised her hand and— *Slap!* A harsh slap landed right on the clerk’s cheek, the sound echoing through the store. I immediately stepped in, pulling the clerk behind me. “Chloe! Have you lost your mind?!” “Me? Lost my mind?” she pointed at the clerk. “He’s the one who was disrespectful first!” “Doesn’t he know the customer is king? Look at his attitude! Does he even know who my fiancé is?” “My fiancé is the General Manager of this mall! He wants to kick me out? I’ll make sure he gets fired today!” I turned and patted the clerk’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” “Go back to the back office. I’ll handle this.” The clerk nodded, holding his bruised cheek. “Mrs. Carter said your daughter is waiting. Please hurry home, Mr. Carter.” “I will. I’ll be right out.” As the clerk walked away, Chloe suddenly blinked, as if waking from a trance. “Wait… what did he just say?” “For your own daughter?” “Ethan, when did you get married?!” I nodded calmly. “Yes, I’m married.” “I told you that already, but you refused to believe me. You just love to twist everything to make it about yourself, Chloe. You’re incredibly delusional.” “Delusional? If you got married, why didn’t you tell me? Why?!” “Why should I? Are we close? Do we even have a reason to speak?” Chloe stared at me, her voice trembling. “When… when did you get married?” I met Audrey by accident. It was about a year after Chloe and I broke up. To escape the heartbreak and clear my mind, I volunteered to do community work in a remote, off-grid mountain community. On my very first day, I crossed paths with Audrey. She had been kidnapped by a trafficking ring and held captive there, terrified. She begged me to help her escape. I did some digging, realized how dangerous and corrupt the local off-grid group was, and secretly contacted the FBI and local authorities. We successfully raided the compound and rescued her along with several other victims. After her rescue, Audrey suffered from severe trauma. I stayed by her side at the hospital, helping her through her recovery and therapy. Over time, we fell in love. We got married a year later. It was only on our wedding day that I discovered her true identity: she was the sole heiress of Summit Enterprises. I thought her powerful family would reject a nobody like me. Instead, they were incredibly grateful for saving her life. They welcomed me with open arms and eventually handed the mall’s operations over to us. Though the greedy board of directors gave us a hard time at first, we faced them together and won. True love is forged in fire. My bond with Audrey grew stronger every single day. She made me realize my own worth. Real love doesn’t require you to beg or lose your dignity. “Chloe, it doesn’t matter when,” I said coldly. “I never wronged you. I only married after we were completely over.” I grabbed the bag of diapers and turned to leave, but Chloe blocked the exit. “How could you do this to me? You swore you’d only love me in this lifetime! How could you marry someone else?” “You even had a kid with some random woman! Ethan, how could you betray me like this?!” Before I could even open my mouth, a cold, elegant voice rang out from behind her. “Really? He swore all that to you? How come I never heard about it?” Chloe and I both turned. Standing there was Audrey, looking stunning and incredibly composed. She walked up to me, naturally wrapping her arm around mine, and raised an eyebrow. “Is what she’s saying true, Ethan?” “Not a single word,” I replied instantly, looking down at my beautiful wife. Chloe’s face twisted in fury. “You’re lying! In our past life, you—” She screamed, but suddenly realized she was about to expose her regression and slapped her hand over her mouth. “Either way, you can’t do this to me!” she shrieked, resorting to a childish tantrum. I let out a cold laugh. “Chloe, don’t you think you’re being ridiculous? You’re about to get married, yet you’re trying to control my life?” “I have a wife and a daughter now. I suggest you stay out of my way, and we stay out of each other’s lives forever!”

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Coming home late at night, I stared at the highly explicit, scandalous photos on my phone. My chest felt incredibly tight. The woman posing in those photos was my fiancée, Chloe Henderson. She looked ecstatic, stretching her limbs in various seductive poses. Her face carried an expression of pure ecstasy—one I had never seen during our five years together. Around her neck, she was still wearing the diamond engagement necklace I had bought her. I clenched my fists, barely resisting the urge to smash my phone against the wall. How could she do this to me? The sender of the photos was Julian Vance. He was a washed-up, self-proclaimed artist who had just returned from Europe. He was also Chloe’s first love—her “one that got away.” Years ago, he abandoned her to pursue his career abroad, and they had a massive blowout, promising never to see each other again. I genuinely believed that chapter of her life was closed. I thought I was her future. But the moment Julian returned, everything shattered. ###

Even though Chloe and I had been dating for five years, she had always been incredibly conservative around me. She wouldn’t even wear a spaghetti strap top in front of me. Yet here she was, completely naked, captured by Julian’s camera. Even in the dim lighting, it was obvious she wasn’t being forced. She looked entirely willing. I sat in silence on the sofa, scrolling through every single photo. The bitterness in my heart slowly numbed, leaving behind nothing but a cold, hollow void. Right after, a text from Julian popped up. “So sorry, man. I desperately needed a model for my new exhibition, and Chloe was sweet enough to help me out. I hope she didn’t keep you waiting at City Hall?” He knew damn well that Chloe had gone to his studio early in the morning and hadn’t returned since. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to mock me. I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened Instagram and saw that Chloe had just posted an update. It was a photo taken in Julian’s studio, but different from the ones he sent me. In this one, she was wearing a fluffy bathrobe, her hair damp. Her caption read: “You will always be my muse.” In the bottom-left corner of the photo, a messy pile of men’s and women’s clothes lay on the bed. The sheets were heavily wrinkled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened. Our mutual friends, clueless about the truth, thought she was just showing off our relationship. They flooded the comment section with congratulations. Some of my buddies even texted me directly. “Wait, weren’t you guys supposed to sign your marriage license at City Hall today? Celebrating in a hotel already?” “When’s the wedding date, man? Don’t forget to send us the invites!” I didn’t reply to any of them. I stared at her post, and it felt like a slap in the face. I had waited at City Hall from sunrise to sunset. My excitement had slowly decayed into complete despair. At first, I was terrified she had gotten into a car accident. I frantically called her friends, asking if they had seen her. Now I realized how pathetic I was. She didn’t want to “take things slow.” I just wasn’t the “muse” she had been waiting for. ###

Chloe finally walked through the front door the next morning. She was holding a takeout container of clam chowder. “I stood in a long line just to get this for you,” she said, trying to sound sweet. “I know yesterday was my fault, but I had a really good reason. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” I glanced at the lukewarm, greasy chowder. There was barely any seafood in it—just some watery broth and a few limp potatoes. Without saying a word, I drained my glass of warm milk. But no warm liquid could thaw the ice around my heart. Just minutes before she arrived, Julian had sent me another photo. It was Chloe standing in his kitchen, smiling as she cooked a fresh, gourmet pot of seafood chowder from scratch. We had been together for five years, and I never even knew Chloe could cook. When we first met, she told me she was completely useless in the kitchen because her parents had pampered her. So, for five years, I treated her like a spoiled princess and did all the cooking. Yet, my princess had gone to cook a gourmet meal for another man. And her “apology” to me was just Julian’s leftovers. Seeing my indifferent expression, Chloe’s smile faded. She stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “I didn’t mean to stand you up yesterday! My phone died. I texted you as soon as I could!” Her “text” was literally three words: “Let’s wait.” Every call I made after that went straight to voicemail. What was the point of explaining now? I slowly stood up, looking at her with cold eyes. “So, your way of ‘helping out’ was stripping naked to be Julian’s model?” “You were the one who set the date for us to get married. And you were the one who broke the promise. Do you even have a shred of respect for me?” My words triggered her. She slammed her phone onto the table in frustration. “I already told you! Marriage is a huge step. Can’t I have some time to think it over? I just wanted to postpone signing the papers. It’s not like I’m never marrying you!” She rolled her eyes, sat down aggressively, and knocked over our matching couple mugs. *Smash!* I looked at the shattered red and blue ceramic pieces on the floor. Suddenly, I remembered last Valentine’s Day. Chloe had stood under a giant screen at the mall, holding a bunch of red roses, and proposed to me. She said her only birthday wish was for us to get married. She was the one who made the promise, and she was the one who shattered it. Maybe our relationship had been too smooth. I had never noticed how distant we had become. Lately, she was always checking her phone during our dates. She would stare at her screen late at night, giggling like a teenager. Whenever I asked, she would just shrug and say it was nothing. And I, like an idiot, kept living in a fantasy world, believing we would naturally get married, buy a house, and grow old together. Since she didn’t care anymore, why should I cling to this pathetic relationship? ###

Sensing the heavy tension, Chloe stepped closer and wrapped her arms around my neck, using her usual whiny tone. “Ethan, babe, I know you love me. Yesterday was totally my fault. I didn’t realize how important it was to you, and I made you wait. But look, I bought you chowder to make it up to you! Stop being mad, okay?” I brushed her hands off my neck. I couldn’t even look at the takeout box on the table. “Where did this chowder really come from, Chloe? You know the truth.” Just because she put it in a restaurant bag didn’t mean it was takeout. Our relationship was just like that bag—wrapped in a sweet package, but completely rotten on the inside. My words struck a nerve. Chloe’s face turned incredibly cold. “Ethan Carter, are you done throwing your tantrum? I apologized, and I explained. What else do you want from me?” “I’m still young! I don’t want to bind myself to a marriage so early. Is that a crime?” I let out a bitter laugh. Looking at her self-righteous face, I felt deeply exhausted. Sure. Why not? A suffocating silence filled the living room. I just stared at her familiar yet unrecognizable face. Before I could speak, her phone rang. Even though she quickly turned away, I caught the caller ID flashing on her screen. “Hubby ❤️” That used to be my exclusive contact name on her phone. And now, I was standing right in front of her. It wasn’t hard to guess who was calling. Chloe picked up, and Julian’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Chloe, I accidentally broke the ceramic figurine you gave me. My wrist is bleeding pretty badly…” “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m coming over right now. Wait for me!” She hung up and immediately rushed to grab her coat. Even a fool could see through this. I stepped forward and grabbed her arm. “Don’t go, Chloe.” But she didn’t even pause to look at me as she shoved her feet into her heels. “You heard him, Ethan! Julian is hurt. He’s an artist—his hands are his livelihood! Nothing can happen to them. I’m just going to check on him, and then I’ll be right back.” Something snapped inside me. The last thread of my patience broke. Five years of love couldn’t compete with a single lie from Julian. I watched her coldly pull her arm out of my grip and pick up her purse. I said quietly, “If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.” “What?” She spun around, looking genuinely confused. I met her gaze. “I said, if you go to Julian today, we are done. Let’s break up.” “Ethan! How long are you going to keep acting like a child? How can you be so incredibly petty? You can’t just throw the word ‘breakup’ around every time you’re annoyed! I have an emergency right now. We’ll talk when I get back tonight!” The door slammed, and her shadow disappeared into the elevator. I calmly locked the door and sat back down on the sofa. Let it be. I had invested so much time, energy, and money into this relationship. I had treated her like a queen, carrying all the burdens alone. And in the end, my queen stripped bare for another man’s camera. I had given her so many chances. But I finally had to admit—she was no longer the girl I fell in love with. ###

That night, I drove straight to a local lounge. My best friend, Marcus, had set up a table to celebrate my “last night of freedom” before marriage. When I told him we broke up, he was stunned. He slung an arm around my shoulder and waved his hand dismissively. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, man! Why cry over one dead flower? Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you to some gorgeous girls tonight.” I waved him off. I wasn’t in the mindset to start anything new. But Marcus didn’t listen. He dragged two beautiful girls over to our table anyway. Everyone was getting a bit tipsy, and the atmosphere was heating up, but I kept my distance. As I watched the crowd swaying on the dance floor, my eyes locked onto a familiar figure. It was Chloe. And Julian was standing right behind her, his hands wrapped tightly around her waist as they ground against each other. His wrists were perfectly fine. There wasn’t a single scratch on him. It was such a pathetic, obvious lie, yet Chloe had thrown away our five-year relationship just to run to him. I calmly looked away and poured myself another drink. Just then, a slender, pale hand rested on top of mine. “Drinking alone is boring. Let me join you.” I looked up. The dim, flashing lights of the lounge blurred her features, but she looked incredibly familiar. Seeing my confusion, she tilted her head, clinked her glass against mine, and smirked. “Don’t tell me you forgot who I am?” I blinked, staring at her face. The woman sat down right next to me, her eyes drifting toward Chloe on the dance floor. It finally clicked. Since college, Chloe had an arch-nemesis. They competed over everything—looks, family background, grades, jobs. The woman sitting next to me was her rival, Stella Winters. My first instinct was to pull away, but then I remembered Chloe and I were over. Stella was just an acquaintance I ran into at a bar. There was no reason to be dramatic. We ended up chatting, and before I knew it, we had finished a bottle of whiskey between us. Marcus walked back from the dance floor, giving us a knowing look. “That’s what I’m talking about! Who cares about an ex when there are better options right here? Enjoy your night, bro!” Fearing he would say something even more embarrassing, I kicked him in the shin. Marcus laughed and ran back to the dance floor with his girlfriend. Feeling the alcohol hitting my brain, I shook my head and stood up, ready to call an Uber. But before I could take two steps, Stella caught up and supported my arm. “I was just about to leave too. Want to share a ride?” It would have been rude to say no, so we walked out of the lounge together. Once we got into the back of the car, Stella accidentally tripped on her dress and fell right into my lap. I reflexively caught her. The warmth of her breath tickled my neck, and I suddenly realized how incredibly intimate our position was. I went to push her up gently, but she grabbed my hand. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wild and mesmerizing. She didn’t say a word, but her gaze spoke volumes. In the dark backseat, she slowly leaned in and pressed her cool lips against mine. She kissed me gently, whispering against my lips, “Chloe doesn’t deserve you. Stop wasting your love on her.” I didn’t pull away. I cupped the back of her head, and just as I was about to deepen the kiss, someone tapped loudly on the car window. I looked over and saw Chloe standing outside, looking utterly confused. “Is this Ethan’s car? Ethan, are you in there?” She leaned in, trying to peer through the tinted glass. I froze for a second, but Stella just smirked. She reached over and rolled down the window.

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I was packing up after a grueling overtime shift, ready to head home, when my phone buzzed. It was a notification from the Oakridge Condos Snapchat group, tagging me. 【Apt 1102, can you please control your kid? It’s past midnight and they’re literally jumping around like they’re at a rave!】 I froze. I’ve been away on a business trip for a month. Who the hell was in my apartment? It was 10:00 PM. I had just shut down my laptop and was about to leave the office when my phone started chiming like crazy. I opened Snapchat and saw the notifications in my building’s group chat. Someone had tagged my apartment. 【Apt 1102, I’ve warned you guys more than once. Control your kid! Why won’t you listen? It’s been happening for days. Jumping and running late at night! Some of us actually have to sleep!】 【Seriously! Entitled kids come from entitled parents. I live further down the hall and even I can hear it! It’s obnoxious!】 【1102, if you keep letting your kid run wild, I’m buying a ceiling vibrator to blast noise back at you!】 【Can you please handle this? I’m so done! If you can’t parent your kid, I’ll do it for you!】 Looking at the angry messages from Apt 1002 and Apt 1101, I was completely bewildered. 【Wait, is there a mistake? My condo was just renovated. I haven’t even moved in yet. Plus, I’ve been out of town on a business trip for the past month. The place is supposed to be empty.】 【Oh, please! If you don’t want to admit you’re a terrible parent, just say so. I’ve literally knocked on your door multiple times to talk about this. Every single time, your mother yells at me, calling me a fully grown adult who’s picking on a toddler!】 【Exactly! I live right next door to you, do you think I don’t know if someone is living there? Stop lying through your teeth!】 the neighbor from 1101 chimed in. Now I was even more confused. I double-checked the group info. Yes, this was definitely the Oakridge Condos group chat. The exact building where I bought my new place. But my apartment was newly renovated and completely unoccupied. How could someone be living there? Had I been robbed? Did squatters take over? I immediately messaged my boss to request emergency leave, booked the earliest flight back for the next morning, and headed straight to the airport. I wanted to see who had the absolute audacity to shamelessly occupy my property in broad daylight. When I reached the door of Apt 1102, there was a cheesy “Welcome” mat on the floor and two pairs of sneakers sitting outside. Did I get the floor wrong? Just as I was about to pull out my phone to check, the door to the neighboring apartment swung open. A woman in her thirties stepped out, holding the hand of a four-year-old girl. She saw me and stopped. “Are you with the people in 1102?” I nodded, then hesitated and shook my head. “This is Building 3, Unit 1, Apt 1102, right?” I asked. “Of course it is!” The woman gave me a look of pure annoyance. “Good, you’re back. You seriously need to discipline your kid. Running around like crazy every night is one thing, but a few days ago, he was literally trying to lift up other little girls’ dresses on the playground! When I called him out on it, your mother came rushing over and screamed at me. She’s completely toxic.” She then gave me a slightly sympathetic look. “I shouldn’t meddle, but you really need to raise your own kid. Leaving him with your mother like this is going to ruin him, and you’ll be the one crying later.” A kid? My mother? I looked at her, utterly lost. “Ma’am, I think there’s a huge misunderstanding. I’m not even married.” She stared at me, looking me up and down. “Yeah, actually, you don’t look like a married guy.” She shrugged. “But whoever that kid belongs to, someone needs to handle him. Doing stuff like that at his age? Imagine what he’ll be like when he grows up!”

After the neighbor walked away, I took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door. An older woman in her late fifties, wearing an apron, opened the door. She looked me up and down with intense suspicion. “Who are you?” Her question almost made me laugh. Who was I? I was the owner of this freaking apartment! “Is this your place?” I asked, suppressing the rage boiling inside me. “If it’s not mine, is it yours?” she snapped back. I nodded. “Actually, yes. It is mine.” With that, I pushed past her and walked right in. I loved the minimalist cream-and-beige aesthetic, so when I designed the place, everything was pristine, white, and organized. But now? The once-fluffy cream carpet was a dingy, filthy gray. There were muddy footprints scattered across the white porcelain tiles. The couch was buried under piles of dirty laundry, and my favorite hanging egg chair had been broken and tossed into a corner, covered in trash. The further I walked in, the angrier I got. The kitchen floor was littered with rotting vegetables, with dark, smelly water pooling in the corners. The premium pots and pans I had spent hours selecting were caked in grease and piled high in the sink. The toilet bowl had a thick layer of grime, and my foot basin was filled with dirty underwear that looked like it had been soaking for days. I didn’t even dare to walk into the master bedroom. That was my personal sanctuary, and I was terrified that if I saw it trashed, I would actually lose my mind and do something illegal. Deep breaths. I had to take deep breaths. There had to be an explanation. “Hey! Who do you think you are, barging into someone’s home without permission?!” “Are you insane? Walking around a stranger’s house like you own the place! Where are your manners?!” Martha—the older woman—had followed me as I toured the apartment. She finally seemed to snap and started screaming at me. I clenched my fists, trying with every fiber of my being not to yell. “Are you absolutely sure this is your apartment? Did you perhaps get the unit number wrong?” I had read news stories about people accidentally renovating the wrong apartment, or moving into the wrong unit by mistake after being away for a long time. I didn’t know how they got the keys, but I figured maybe some weird mix-up had happened here. But Martha only got angrier. “What do you mean, ‘your apartment, my apartment’? This is my house! My daughter bought it for me! Let me tell you, don’t think you can bully me just because I’m an old woman living here alone. I’m not someone you can mess with!” “Fine. Fine.” I took three deep breaths and pulled out my phone. This was beyond my control, and it was definitely beyond hers. But the police could handle it. “911? Yes, I’d like to report an emergency. My apartment has been illegally occupied by squatters.” “You… you called the cops?! You’re playing the victim! You’re the one who broke into my house! You’re calling the cops to get yourself arrested!” Martha was still yelling when the front door clicked open. A woman in her thirties walked in, holding the hand of a seven-year-old boy. They both stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me. “Who are you?” the younger woman demanded. I let out a cold laugh. “I own this place, and you’re asking me who I am? I should be asking you. You’re occupying my property and acting like you own the joint.” “Ha! Your apartment? You’re hilarious. We don’t even know you! What proof do you have that this is yours?” “I already called the police. We’ll find out who owns it in about ten minutes.” Ten minutes later, two police officers arrived. I gave them a detailed breakdown of the situation and showed them my digital deed, the purchase contract, and the renovation receipts on my phone. The officers’ brows furrowed as they reviewed the documents. Finally, one officer turned to the two women. “Ma’am, according to public records and these documents, this property legally belongs to this gentleman.” The two women immediately lost their minds. “Impossible! My daughter bought this condo for me!” The officer paused. “And who is your daughter?” Martha puffed out her chest proudly. “My daughter is Lily Vance.”

Lily Vance? I froze. My girlfriend’s name was Lily Vance. “Call your daughter right now and have her come down here,” the officer told Martha. “I already called my sister,” the younger woman sneered at me. “She’s already on her way.” Twenty minutes later, Lily ran through the door, completely out of breath. The moment I saw her, my jaw dropped. It really was her. My girlfriend of one year. “What’s going on?” She first looked at her mother and sister sitting on the couch. “Oh, Lily, thank God you’re here! Look at this guy! He just barged into my home, claiming the place is his! And these two cops are actually taking his side! I swear they’re all in on it together!” The moment Martha saw Lily, she literally slid off the couch onto the floor, wailing and crying. “Mom! Mom, get up!” Lily rushed over, helping her mother back onto the couch. When she finally turned around, her eyes met mine. “Ethan?” I stared at her coldly. She looked incredibly guilty. “Ethan, aren’t you supposed to be on a business trip? Why are you back so early?” “If I didn’t come back early, I wouldn’t have found out that you gifted my half-million-dollar condo to your family,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ethan, it’s not like that. Let me explain.” Lily grabbed my arm, trying to pull me to the corner of the room. I was so furious that I stood rigid, and she couldn’t budge me an inch. “Ethan,” she whispered, her voice tinged with annoyance when she couldn’t move me. “Come over here. We need to talk in private.” I shrugged and followed her to the corner. I wanted to hear what kind of absolute garbage excuse she was going to cook up. “My mom hasn’t been feeling well lately, and she needed to come to the city for medical treatments. You know how expensive hotels are here—like two hundred dollars a night! I just figured since your apartment was sitting empty anyway, they could stay here for a bit,” she said, her eyes darting around. “Oh?” I let out a cold laugh. “So you decided, without even asking me, to let your mother and sister move into my apartment?” “Ethan,” she said, looking offended. “What do you mean, ‘your apartment’? We’ve been dating for a year. What’s yours is mine! Besides, the place was just sitting here empty. Letting them stay here was basically doing you a favor by housewarming and airing the place out.” The sheer audacity! I needed her to do me a favor? “Housewarming? Is your idea of housewarming turning my brand-new, beautifully renovated apartment into a landfill?” Lily looked around the messy living room, looking slightly embarrassed. “Well, you know how older people are. They aren’t as obsessed with cleanliness. That’s why you need a woman in your life, Ethan! Once you’re back from your trip, we can move in together, and you can help my mom keep the place clean. Isn’t that perfect?” Hearing this, the anger I had been desperately trying to suppress finally erupted. “Let’s get one thing straight. First, we are not married! You letting your family move in without my consent is illegal trespassing. Second, I don’t need your family to ‘warm’ my house. And finally, I am giving you exactly three days to get your mother and sister the hell out of my apartment!” Lily’s face flushed with anger, and she shrieked, “Ethan Sterling! How dare you speak to me like that! That is my mother and my sister! They are going to be your family too! What’s wrong with letting them stay in your apartment for a bit? Why are you being so incredibly cheap and petty? I had no idea you were such a selfish, penny-pinching loser!”

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The five of us had been playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide everything since we were kids. Whoever lost had to pay the price. But in twelve years, I had never won. Not even once. The night before our engagement party, they were playing again to decide who wouldn’t be allowed on stage tomorrow. I sat in the corner, and for the first time, I saw the truth clearly. Just before they throw their hands, Ethan Carter tapped his fingers twice on the edge of the table. In the next second, the other three threw Paper in perfect unison. I threw Rock. “Chloe lost again!” “Rules are rules, Chloe. You’re not allowed on stage tomorrow.” Ethan reached over, pulling my hands into his palms and rubbing them gently. “You really are unlucky. But don’t worry. I don’t mind.” If this were the past, I would have laughed and accepted defeat. But this time, I just stared at him. “Tomorrow is my engagement party, and I’m not allowed on stage?” “When you tapped your fingers twice, was that the signal for them to throw Paper?” The table went dead silent for a second. Hailey Vance let out a soft giggle. “You only just realized? We’ve had that code since high school.” “We didn’t tell you because we were afraid you’d be a sore loser.” Ethan nodded. “You’re too sensitive, Chloe. If we told you, you’d just cry again.” So, that was it. For twelve years, I ran their errands, picked up their bills, and gave up my seats for them. It wasn’t because my luck was bad. It was because they never intended to let me win. Slowly, I pulled my hand out of Ethan’s grip. “From now on, I’m out of the game.” “So go ahead. Pick another bride for tomorrow.” …

I turned and walked away. The VIP room door wasn’t fully closed, and a burst of laughter erupted behind me. “Ethan, aren’t you going to go after her and comfort her?” Ethan scoffed, not even bothering to lower his voice. “Just leave her. She begged me for over six months to get engaged. She’ll show up tomorrow earlier than anyone else.” The whole table laughed in agreement. I stood at the end of the hallway, wiping my tears before I walked out. The receptionist at the front desk looked up and naturally turned the card reader toward me. “Miss Miller, the total is five thousand dollars.” Over the past twelve years, I had lost count of how many times I had paid the bill at this restaurant. It had become such a habit that everyone took it for granted. “I’m not paying.” “From now on, the person paying won’t be me.” When I got home, the house was dark. I dragged my suitcase out from behind the closet. Halfway through, I saw the cream-colored gown hanging behind the door. This engagement party was indeed something I had practically begged Ethan for over the past six months. Every time I brought it up before, either Hailey was sick, or Hailey was moving. He had even told me once that he lost a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors. The penalty was that he couldn’t mention marriage for a month. Yet, the very next day, I saw his Instagram Story. The four of them were vacationing on a private island. He and Hailey were wearing a tuxedo and a wedding dress. Under their friends’ cheers, they exchanged rings. That day, with red eyes, I held up my phone and confronted him. He had only sighed helplessly. “Hailey and I grew up together. I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you.” “If there were really anything between us, would it even be your turn?” Seeing my silence, his tone had softened. “We were just helping her practice. She wanted to know what a wedding ceremony felt like.” At 1:00 AM, the front door opened. He walked in smelling of alcohol, stepping over to the bed without even taking off his shoes. “The flight lands at 5:00 AM tomorrow. You need to pick up Hailey’s parents from the airport.” “She’s the most important guest tomorrow.” Without waiting for my reply, he scrolled through his phone, remembering something else. “And don’t forget, you lost the game. Tomorrow, Hailey and I will be the ones taking the stage.” “Everyone knows you’re the bride anyway, so it doesn’t matter if you go up there or not. Just be good.” With that, Ethan looked up at me. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt in his eyes. “Oh, and don’t wear that cream-colored gown. You’ll clash with Hailey.” A sharp sting rose in my nose, but I forced it down. After a long silence, I finally spoke. “Ethan, let’s call off the engagement. I’m tired.” He froze for a second, then laughed out loud. “Again?” “Over that little thing from this afternoon?” He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his jacket. “It was just a game. The five of us have played it since we were kids.” “Is it really worth throwing a tantrum over?” “Besides, even when you lose, you just run some errands or buy some stuff. Who would actually want to make you feel bad?” The touch of sincerity in his eyes almost fooled me again. On the day we filled out our college applications, the five of us had crowded onto his apartment balcony. Ethan had made the final call, saying we should all stay in the city, and no one was allowed to leave. So, I crossed out New York University, the school I had always dreamed of attending. Later, Logan went to Boston, and Mason went to Chicago. Ethan and Hailey went to New York together. Only I stayed behind. At 11:30 PM, my mom sent me a Snapchat message. “Chloe, what time should your dad and I head over tomorrow?” “Don’t worry about us. We can just sit in the very back row.” “We won’t get in your way.” Staring at those words, a sharp pain pierced my heart. I opened the chatbox. “Mom, the engagement is cancelled tomorrow.”

I started typing more. “Mom, honestly, I’ve been so tired all these years.” But then, word by word, I deleted it. I only replied with one sentence. “I’ll tell you when I get back. I want to come home and stay with you guys for a few days.” Just then, Ethan’s voice drifted from the bathroom, loud and clear. “Chloe, if you keep acting up like this, don’t blame me if I actually call off the wedding.” The next morning, I didn’t go to the airport. My phone started buzzing with texts at 5:30 AM and didn’t stop until 9:00 AM. I didn’t open a single one of them. Suddenly, the bedroom door was kicked open. Ethan stood there, his face pale with rage as he demanded answers. “Hailey’s parents stood at the airport for four hours!” “I had to drive over and pick them up myself in the end. Are you happy now?” I kept packing my suitcase, standing quietly beside him. “I told you, I’m out of this game.” “Out?” He let out a cold laugh. “Chloe, do you think this is a game you can just quit whenever you feel like it?” Hailey peeked out from behind him, her face filled with grievance. “Chloe, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked Ethan to pick them up…” “How about I tell them to go back right now?” “Do you hear that?” Hearing Hailey speak, Ethan’s anger flared up instantly. “Hailey is already apologizing to you. What more do you want?” He snatched my suitcase and threw it back into the corner. “A loss is a loss. It’s been twelve years. Do you think you make the rules now?” Looking into his eyes, I remembered last year. Hailey had appendicitis and was hospitalized. We played Rock, Paper, Scissors in the hallway to decide who would stay to nurse her. Ethan lost five times in a row, laughing and accepting his defeat. In the end, he stayed by her side for three days and three nights, peeling apples for her with a scruffy, unshaven face. But last winter, when I had a fever of 103 degrees, we also played the game. I threw Rock, and the four of them threw Paper in perfect, silent unison. Ethan had laughed, tossing his car keys to me. “Rules are rules, Chloe. Call an Uber yourself.” That night, I sat in the ER alone for four hours getting an IV drip, and went home by myself. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of losing. He had just never lost for me. “So, what is it this time? How much drama do you have to make before you’ll stop?” I didn’t cry, and I didn’t say a word. But this time, I was truly exhausted. I just silently set my suitcase upright again. Ethan’s face darkened completely. “Fine, Chloe. You’re really something!” “Don’t bother coming to the engagement party today.” “I’ll tell my mom that the bride is sick and resting at home.” The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. When it opened again, it was a delivery driver holding a bouquet of flowers. White roses. Ethan and I had an agreement. Whenever we had a fight and went cold turkey, a bouquet of white roses meant the fight was over. The sender bowed their head, and the receiver offered forgiveness. Over the years, I had received seventeen of them. I didn’t know what to feel as I held them. Just as I was about to close the door, the delivery driver stopped me. “Wait, the customer paid extra and asked me to pass along a message.” The driver cleared his throat, imitating a young girl’s cute, mocking voice. “Chloe, you’re really being too immature.” “Luckily, Ethan has me to send you flowers on his behalf.” “Oh, by the way, all your flowers from before? I was the one who ordered them too.” The blood in my veins froze in that single moment. So, from the very beginning, this promise was nothing but a joke. So, for all seventeen times, the one who bowed her head was actually me.

Before I could even process this, Ethan’s mother called. Her tone was as arrogant and condescending as always. “Chloe, how do you still have the nerve to hide at home?” “My Ethan can get any girl he wants. How was he so blind to choose you?” “It’s bad enough that you didn’t show up, but you actually let your small-town, embarrassing parents come here and make us a laughingstock!” Right after she hung up, a photo popped up on my phone. I opened it frantically. It was the grand ballroom of the luxury hotel. The heavy double doors were open only by a tiny, narrow crack. My mom and dad were standing in the hallway outside, holding thick, heavy bags in their hands. With hunched backs, they tilted their heads, carefully and fearfully trying to peer through that tiny crack. They just wanted to steal a glance at their daughter’s happiness. Tears rushed to my eyes. I grabbed my jacket and bolted out the door. But by the time I rushed to the hotel, they had already been kicked out by security. They didn’t know the city. How did they manage to find their way here all the way from their small midwestern town? I didn’t dare to think about the struggles and the cold glares they must have faced along the way. With trembling hands, I dialed their number. It rang for a long time before my mom finally answered, her voice soft and hesitant. “Chloe…” She spoke very quietly, sounding incredibly tense. “We didn’t go in. We just stood outside for a little bit.” “Your dad brought two bottles of homemade cider. He said it was his first time meeting Ethan’s parents, and we couldn’t show up empty-handed.” “We wanted to give you a surprise, and to see your big day.” A lump formed in my throat, choking me. “Where are you guys? I’m coming to get you…” “Chloe, we…” Suddenly, a hand reached out from the side. My phone was violently knocked out of my hand and hit the floor. Ethan stepped on it with his leather shoe, cracking the screen into a million white pieces. He looked down at me, his eyebrows knitted tightly. “What are you doing here?” “Don’t you know today’s party is completely private? Walking around with your phone trying to take videos, what kind of stunt are you pulling now?” Before I could say a word, Hailey emerged from the hotel lobby, supported by Mason. With just one look, my heart was pierced. She was wearing a cream-colored, custom-designed gown. It was the exact same design I had hand-drawn and ordered three months ago. Last night, he had warned me not to wear cream because he was afraid we would clash. It wasn’t because he was afraid of clashing. It was because he had already put my wedding gown on another woman. Ignoring the dress, I stared dead at Ethan, my voice trembling. “My parents stood outside for the entire morning. Didn’t they even deserve a seat?” Ethan froze for a second, seemingly not expecting this to be the reason. He frowned, his tone turning dismissive. “My mom said she already arranged for someone to handle them, and…” “Arranged for someone to kick them out?” I cut him off, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at him. “They don’t know anyone in this city! What if something happens to them!” A flash of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes, and he instinctively took a step forward. But Hailey, right on cue, reached out and grabbed his sleeve. Her eyes were slightly red as she apologized in a sweet, fragile voice. “Chloe, don’t blame Ethan.” “I was just worried that your parents would feel out of place in their clothes inside, so I asked security to politely guide them out…” “It’s all my fault. I should have gone to pick them up myself.” With just those words, the worry in Ethan’s eyes vanished instantly. He turned to shield Hailey, scolding me with a cold face. “It was all for your own good.” “Can you stop throwing these tantrums regardless of the occasion?” My heart sank further and further into the abyss.

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#### My mother always said the city was too expensive to raise two girls. So, she dumped me at Grandma’s place in the countryside and kept my sister by her side. Sixteen years later, I am the CEO of a multinational conglomerate, preparing to acquire my sister’s company. On the due diligence report, her profile reads: “Only child. Loving parents. Wealthy family.” It turns out, I was never considered part of that family. *** During the summer when I was eight, I finally figured something out. My mother wasn’t broke. She just didn’t want to spend a single dime on me. That day, Grandma took me to the city to see a doctor. I had a low-grade fever, my head felt heavy and dizzy, and I sat in the very back row of the bus, pressing my face against the window, watching the brick buildings rush past. Grandma kept muttering next to me, saying how hard my mother had it in the city, that I needed to be understanding and not cause any trouble for her. I nodded and said okay. But the moment we got off near the shopping mall, I spotted her instantly. My mother. She was wearing a floral sundress I had never seen before. The fabric looked silky and shimmered under the sun. Her hair was styled in soft, bouncy curls cascading over her shoulders. She looked more beautiful than the women on the glossy department store posters. Standing right next to her was a little girl. She was just as tall as me, just as thin, and shared the exact same face. But that girl was wearing a pink princess dress with a puffed-out skirt that bloomed like a flower. On her feet were shiny white patent leather shoes, sparkling with tiny crystals. She was cradling a doll that was bigger than my head—a golden-haired, blue-eyed doll dressed in the exact same pink dress she wore. My mother knelt, gently wiping the girl’s mouth with a soft handkerchief. Her movements were so tender, as if she were handling a priceless treasure. And then, my mother smiled. It was a smile I had never seen on her face before. There was no impatience, no forced warmth, no furrowed brows. Her eyes curved into crescents, her lips parted, and her entire face seemed to light up. I tugged at Grandma’s faded sleeve, my throat bone-dry. “Grandma, is that Mom?” Before Grandma could answer, my mother looked up and caught sight of me. Her face changed instantly. That expression is something I’ve remembered for sixteen long years. It wasn’t joy, and it wasn’t pity. It was sheer panic. It was the look of someone who had just seen something that wasn’t supposed to exist. Like she was looking at a ghost. She grabbed the little girl’s hand and spun around. She walked away so fast she was practically running. The little girl stumbled as she was dragged along, nearly dropping her doll. She looked back once—just once. Her eyes were filled with pure confusion. I wanted to run after them. I wanted to scream, *Mom!* But my legs felt like they were set in concrete. I couldn’t move an inch. My throat felt like it was being squeezed tight, and I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Grandma wrapped her arms around me. “Don’t go,” Grandma whispered, her voice muffled against my hair. “The city is too expensive. You have to be understanding of your mother.” That night, I sat in the dirt yard of Grandma’s small cottage, thinking for a very long time. The city was expensive. So, my sister got to wear princess dresses while I only got her hand-me-downs—sweaters with frayed cuffs and jeans that were always inches too short. So, my sister had her mouth wiped gently, while I wiped my face with my sleeve, leaving dark smudges behind. So, my sister got to stay by my mother’s side, and I didn’t. We were twins. But only one of us was allowed to be loved. The other was just a spare. I didn’t understand what “spare” meant before I was eight. But after that day, I understood it completely. Grandma’s cottage was in a dusty, remote town in Kentucky, miles away from the nearest county center. It was a tiny, old house with three rooms and a fence made of dried cornstalks that rattled whenever the wind blew. Grandma kept two pigs, a dozen chickens, and three goats. After I arrived, there was one more mouth to feed. Grandma never complained. She just started waking up even earlier. At four in the morning, while the sky was still pitch black, Grandma would gently shake me awake. We would light the stove, feed the animals, chop the feed, and boil oatmeal. The oatmeal was so watery you could see your own reflection in the bowl. Grandma would scoop the thick parts into my bowl and drink the watery broth herself. When I tried to push it back, she would just force it back to me. “A growing girl needs her strength,” she’d say. But no matter how much I ate, I didn’t seem to grow much. My clothes were always Serena’s old things, washed so many times they were practically gray and covered in patches. The pants were always too short, leaving my ankles bare to the biting cold. My shoes were cheap clearance items Grandma bought from the local flea market for two dollars. The soles were paper-thin, and my feet would ache terribly after a long walk. Winter was always the hardest. The wind cut through the gaps in our thin walls like a knife. I would curl into a tight ball under the blankets, shivering. Grandma would drape her own heavy wool coat over me and go sit by the fireplace to stay warm. I would run my fingers over that coat. It was stiff, and the filling inside had bunched up into hard lumps. I asked Grandma once why Mom never sent me a new winter coat. Grandma was quiet for a long time before she spoke. “The city is expensive, Patience. Your mother is doing her best.” I never asked again. But in my heart, I wondered—was Serena’s coat new? It must have been. That pink dress she wore at the mall was brand new. The fabric was so soft, the color so vibrant. It was nothing like the stiff, scratchy, faded rags I wore. During Christmas, my mother brought Serena back to the countryside. I stood in the yard, watching a clean SUV pull up. I watched my mother step out, and then I watched Serena climb down from the passenger side. Serena was wearing a bright red winter jacket with a fluffy white faux-fur trim around the hood. She looked like a little princess straight out of a movie. On her feet were pristine Ugg boots, also lined with soft white fur. She stood beside our mother, looking at me timidly with bright, clean eyes. My mother glanced at me and said, “You’ve grown.” And then, she ignored me. She went inside to talk to Grandma. I heard them talking about how high the rent was in the city, how much Arthur’s salary was, and how Serena was attending a private bilingual kindergarten that cost thousands of dollars a term. I crouched in the yard, listening to those words drift out of the window, each one drilling into my ears. Serena walked over and stood in front of me. She tilted her head, studying me for a long time. “Are you my sister?” *** ####

I didn’t say anything. “Mom said you live with Grandma because the apartment in the city is too small for all of us.” I still kept my mouth shut. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of candy, and held it out to me. “Here.” I looked down at the candy. It was a Werther’s Original. I recognized the shiny gold wrapper. I had seen them in the glass display case at the town’s small convenience store. I had never tasted one. I reached out, took it, and clutched it tightly in my fist. “Why aren’t you eating it?” she asked. “Saving it,” I muttered. She gave an “oh,” watched me for another moment, and then ran back inside the house. That night, I carefully unwrapped the candy and took a tiny lick. It was so sweet. So sweet that tears nearly welled up in my eyes. But I couldn’t bear to finish it. I wrapped it back up in the gold foil and tucked it deep into my pocket. I kept that candy for a very long time. I kept it until it melted, sticking to the wrapper so badly that it could never be opened again. When I was nine, the town’s elementary school opened a new term. Grandma took me to register. When the teacher asked for my name, Grandma said, “Patience. Patience Evans.” The teacher finished writing it down, looked at me, and sighed. “This child is too thin. She needs more nutrition.” I lowered my head and remained silent. School became the happiest part of my life. The classroom was warm, there were chairs to sit on, and I didn’t have to do chores. When the teacher spoke, I listened with all my might, refusing to miss a single word. Those letters, those numbers—they were like treasures to me. Once they entered my mind, they never left. At the end of the school year, I ranked first in the entire district. Grandma was overjoyed. She practically bowed to my teacher in gratitude. The teacher called me over, patted my head, and said, “This girl is brilliant. Make sure she stays in school, she’ll go far.” Grandma nodded eagerly, her face lighting up. “Yes, of course. I’ll make sure of it.” But when the next term started, we couldn’t scrape together enough money for the school fees and book costs. Grandma had to sell five of her chickens and borrow twenty dollars from a neighbor just to pay the fees. That night, Grandma sat by the fireplace and let out a long sigh. “Your mother didn’t send any money this month.” I said nothing. “She said the city is expensive right now. She asked us to wait a little longer.” I watched the flames flicker in the hearth. The light cast deep shadows over Grandma’s face, making her wrinkles look even deeper. “Grandma, I don’t need to go to school anymore.” Grandma immediately smacked my shoulder. “Stop talking nonsense! If you don’t go to school, what will you do? End up like me, digging in the dirt for the rest of your life?” I shut my mouth. But in my mind, I wondered—was Serena going to school? Of course she was. She went to a private bilingual school that cost thousands. My mother didn’t hesitate to spend money on her. I went to a run-down public school that cost eighty dollars a term, and Grandma had to sell her livestock for it. That was the difference. From the very beginning, we were never the same. When I was twelve, Grandma fell ill. She coughed constantly. A deep, hacking cough that kept her awake all night. When I came home from school, I found her lying in bed, her face pale and yellow, her lips completely white. The stove was cold, and there was no food in the kitchen. I ran to the neighbor’s house, and they helped me call my mother. When the call went through, I could hear loud noises on the other end—the sound of a TV playing, and Serena’s bright laughter. My mother’s voice came through the line, sharp and impatient. “What is it?” “Grandma is really sick,” I said. There was a brief silence on the other end. “I’m too busy right now, I can’t make it down. Take care of her for now, I’ll mail some money in a few days.” The line went dead. I stood by the neighbor’s phone, holding the receiver, listening to the dial tone for a very long time. That night, I lit the stove myself, boiled some broth, and helped Grandma take her medicine. After she drank it, she held my hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Patience… I’m so sorry. I’ve failed you.” I shook my head. “Grandma, don’t talk. Just sleep.” She fell asleep. I sat by her bed, looking at her pale face and her thin, bony hands. It felt like something heavy was slowly sinking to the very bottom of my chest. My mother’s “few days” turned into two weeks. By the time the money arrived, Grandma was already able to get out of bed. I went to the post office to collect it. Fifty dollars. The clerk looked at me and asked, “Is this all?” “Yes, that’s all,” I whispered. I stuffed the cash into my pocket and walked home. Halfway there, I stopped outside the convenience store. Through the glass counter, I saw the gold-wrapped candies. They were cheap, but I stood there for a long time before finally walking away without buying any. Grandma needed that money for her medicine. *** ####

When I was fourteen, a man came to our town to buy local medicinal roots and wild herbs. His name was Marcus Miller. He was in his forties, thin, wore glasses, and spoke very gently. He rented a small space in town to buy herbs like wild ginseng, goldenseal, and elderberries. He paid better than the local trading posts, and he always paid in cash on the spot. Grandma had spent her whole life foraging in the mountains and knew every plant. She took me up the trails, pointing them out one by one. *This is wild ginseng, you dig the root; this is elderberry, you harvest the fruit.* I had a sharp mind. I remembered everything after seeing it once. Grandma nodded and said, “Good. You can go up the mountains by yourself from now on.” That summer, I carried a heavy woven basket on my back, heading up the mountain trail before dawn and returning only after dark. I sold whatever I gathered to Marcus. He would weigh them, calculate the price, and hand me the cash. “You’re harvesting even more than your grandmother, kid,” he’d say with a smile. I would clutch the money tightly and hand it to Grandma. Grandma counted the bills, a rare smile appearing on her face. “This is enough for your school fees next year.” I smiled too. But that night, Grandma started coughing again. It was worse than before, a violent, unstoppable hacking that went on all night. I got up to rub her back, but she shook her head, wheezing that it was just her old ailment. Yet she grew thinner and paler by the day. Before school started, I took her to the county hospital. The doctor asked Grandma to wait outside and called me into his office. He looked at me and asked, “Are you her granddaughter?” “Yes,” I replied. He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Go home and start preparing.” “Preparing for what?” I asked, my voice trembling. He didn’t answer. But I understood. On the way back, Grandma kept insisting she was fine, that it was just a minor bug. I supported her frail body, unable to say a single word. The winter I turned fifteen, Grandma passed away. Before she closed her eyes, she reached out, her vision already gone, searching for me. “Patience…” I pressed my face against her cold cheek. “Grandma, I’m here. I’m right here.” “Patience, remember… you have to live well… live well and show them all…” I nodded, my tears spilling onto her face. “I know you’ve had a hard life… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you…” “Don’t say that, Grandma,” I sobbed. “You’re going to get better.” She weakly shook her head, her hand slowly losing its grip. “Your mother… she is cold-hearted. But don’t waste your life hating her… hating someone is too exhausting… don’t…” Before she could finish, her hand fell limp. I knelt by the bed, calling her name over and over until my voice went hoarse, until no more tears would come. Grandma never answered me again. After she was gone, I couldn’t stay in that town anymore. My mother returned for the funeral. She dressed in black, but there were barely any tears on her face. Serena didn’t come; my mother said she was preparing for her high school entrance exams and couldn’t afford to miss class. After the funeral, my mother sat in the quiet cottage, looking at me. “Come back to the city with me.” I stared at her. “Your grandmother is gone. How are you going to survive out here on your own?” “Okay,” I said. That day, I packed my few belongings, tucking Grandma’s photo into my pocket. She didn’t leave much behind—just a few old clothes, a pair of worn-out shoes, and a small metal tin. Inside the tin was three hundred dollars I had saved from foraging, and that old, melted candy wrapper. I took the candy wrapper with me. The day we drove into the city, a light drizzle was falling. I sat in the back of the SUV, watching the rural town slowly shrink in the distance, watching Grandma’s small cottage get smaller and smaller until it became a tiny dot and vanished completely. My mother drove in silence, never saying a word to me. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, tears silent as they slipped down my face, blending with the rain outside. In the city, I moved into my mother’s apartment. It was a spacious three-bedroom place, clean and modern. The living room had a plush sofa, a large TV, and a family portrait on the wall. In the photo, my mother wore a beautiful red dress, standing next to a man, with Serena standing beside them, smiling sweetly. I recognized the man’s face. There was a black-and-white photo of him on Grandma’s cabinet. My father. He had passed away years ago, and I barely remembered what he looked like. But in this portrait, he wore a tailored suit, his hair neatly combed, smiling warmly. Serena walked out of her room, stopping short when she saw me. She was much taller now than when she was eight, the exact same height as me. She was wearing comfortable silk loungewear, her long hair draped over her shoulders, her skin fair and flawless. She glanced at me, then at my mother, said nothing, and retreated back into her room. My mother pointed to a tiny door off the hallway. “You’ll sleep in there.” The room was incredibly small, fitting only a single mattress and a small plastic dresser. The window faced the brick wall of the adjacent building; even during the day, it was pitch black without the light on. I put my bag down, sat on the edge of the mattress, and stared at the window. There was nothing to see outside. Just a cold, gray brick wall. For dinner, my mother made three dishes: roasted chicken, steamed vegetables, and garlic shrimp. Serena sat across from me, her head down as she ate, never looking up to meet my eyes. My mother kept putting food onto Serena’s plate, piece after piece, saying, “Eat more, sweetie, you’re still growing.” She didn’t put a single piece on my plate. I reached out with my fork, taking a small piece of broccoli and placing it in my bowl, chewing slowly. The food was delicious. Much better than anything we had in the countryside. But I couldn’t taste a thing. That night, I lay on the small mattress, listening to the muffled sounds from the living room. The TV was murmuring, accompanied by laughter. Serena and my mother were watching a show together, sharing some private joke. I turned over, facing the wall. The wall was freezing cold. *** ####

After living there for two weeks, I noticed a lot of things. My sister’s name was Serena Sinclair. She attended the most prestigious private prep school in the city. Her grades were average, but my mother bragged about her to everyone she met. Her bedroom was three times the size of mine, complete with a study desk, a massive closet, and shelves overflowing with books and designer plush toys. There was no desk in my room. My mother told me to just make do for now and that we’d figure something out later. Every day when Serena came home from school, my mother would ask her what she wanted to eat. If Serena wanted takeout, my mother ordered it. If Serena wanted a specific dessert, my mother baked it. If Serena had no appetite, my mother would gently coax her to eat. Once, Serena caught a fever. My mother was frantic, driving her to the emergency room in the middle of the night and staying awake until dawn. When they returned the next morning, my mother’s eyes were red with exhaustion, yet she still smiled warmly, asking Serena if she wanted some homemade soup. It made me think of when Grandma was sick. When I called, my mother said she was too busy. When I told her Grandma was coughing blood, she just said she would mail money. And by the time the money arrived, the worst had already passed. As I sat in my dark room, staring at the gray brick wall outside, the truth finally clicked in my mind. She was never too busy. She just didn’t care. In the eight years I lived in that country town, my mother visited exactly twice. Once for Christmas, and once when Grandma was sick. Both times, she stayed for barely half a day before rushing off, claiming she had too many things to handle in the city. I actually believed her. I thought she was truly overwhelmed. Yet she had all the time in the world to watch TV with Serena, to cook her favorite meals, and to stay up all night at the hospital for a simple fever. She was only busy when it came to me. At dinner that night, my mother served baked salmon. Since Serena loved salmon, my mother plated the best fillets for her, murmuring about how healthy it was. I took a small piece of the tail end and ate quietly. Serena suddenly spoke up. “Mom, how long is she going to stay here?” My fork froze mid-air. My mother also paused. “What are you talking about? She’s your sister.” Serena rolled her eyes and didn’t say another word. I kept my head down, chewing my food slowly. The fish was dry and tasteless. But I didn’t say a word. When the school semester was about to start, my mother handed me an enrollment brochure for a local vocational school. “Your academic foundation is weak,” she said smoothly. “Even if you go to a regular high school, you won’t get into a decent university. It’s better to learn a practical trade so you can start working early.” I looked at the paper. Was my academic foundation weak? In our town, I was always at the top of my class. Granted, the curriculum in the city was different, and I had some catching up to do. But she had made this decision after only two weeks. How did she know I couldn’t get into a good college? I didn’t ask. There was no point. To get Serena into her elite private school, my mother had paid a twenty-thousand-dollar donation, claiming it was an investment in her daughter’s future. But for me? The trade school was free, and it would get me out of her house and into a job faster. I sat in my dark room all night. The next morning, I packed my bag and walked to the address Marcus Miller had given me. Marcus had stopped coming to our town a year ago to open his own wholesale herb and spice warehouse in the city. Before he left, he had written down his address and told me, *Patience, if you ever need a place to go, come find me.* When I found his shop, he was busy sorting dried herbs. He froze when he saw me standing there, then a warm smile spread across his face. “Look at you! You’ve grown so tall, kid.” “Marcus,” I said quietly, “I want to work.” He paused, looking at my small bag. “What happened?” “I need to earn my own living.” He stared at me for a long time, then nodded without asking further questions. “Alright. I need an assistant anyway. You can stay in the back room. I’ll cover your food and rent, and pay you eight hundred dollars a month.” “Thank you,” I said. That evening, I sent a text message to my mother: *I’m moving into the trade school dorms. Don’t worry about me.* She replied with a brief: *Okay. Keep in touch.* I unpacked my things in the tiny back room of Marcus’s warehouse, taping Grandma’s photo and that old, melted candy wrapper to the wall. As I closed the door, I felt a weight lift from my chest. I was finally free of that cold, gray wall. *** ####

The warehouse was located in an old industrial district of Chicago. It had a storefront in the front and a small living quarters in the back. Marcus lived in one room, and I took the other. The room was tiny, even smaller than the one at my mother’s apartment. But through the window, I could see the open sky, the clouds, and the neighborhood cats sunning themselves on the rooftops. I smoothed out the sheets on my bed and touched Grandma’s photo. *I’m doing okay, Grandma. Don’t worry about me.* The shop was always busy, and Marcus had been struggling to manage it alone. Once I started helping, things became much smoother. I memorized the inventory instantly, kept the ledger flawlessly, and could calculate invoices faster than a computer. Whenever customers came in, I greeted them, weighed their orders, packed them, and handled the payments with ease. Sometimes Marcus would watch me and sigh. “Patience, you have a brilliant mind. You shouldn’t waste it in a dusty warehouse like this.” “Then what should I do?” I asked. “Go to college,” he said simply. I lowered my eyes and didn’t answer. A few days later, he placed a stack of papers in front of me. “Night classes. College prep courses. Take a look.” I scanned the tuition fees. The application was three hundred, prep books were two hundred, and a semester would cost over a thousand dollars. I pushed the papers back. “I can’t afford it.” “Don’t worry about the money,” Marcus said softly. I looked up at him in surprise. “I’ll pay for it,” he said. I froze. “Marcus… I can’t accept that.” “Don’t call me Marcus, call me Mr. Miller,” he chuckled, though his eyes were completely serious. “I tried to go to college back in the day, but I missed the cutoff score by two points. I’ve been stuck in this shop ever since. You have a real gift, Patience. Don’t let it go to waste.” Looking into his kind, earnest eyes, my throat tightened, and tears threatened to spill. “Mr. Miller, I…” “No arguments. Registration is tomorrow.” That night, I lay in bed, staring at the moonlight filtering through my window, tears quietly slipping into my pillow. *Grandma, someone is finally looking out for me.* The night school was on the other side of the city, a one-hour bus ride each way. I worked in the warehouse during the day, closed up at five, rushed to classes, and returned around ten at night. Then, I would study until two in the morning. Sometimes Marcus would get up in the middle of the night, see the light under my door, and bring in a cup of warm tea. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Your health comes first.” I would nod, drink the tea, and keep studying. On the day of my college entrance exams, Marcus closed the shop to drive me to the test center. He waited outside the entire time. I don’t remember what he asked when I walked out, only that he was smiling wider than I’ve ever seen. When the results came out, I scored in the top 0.1% of the state. Marcus’s hands shook as he held the printout. “I knew it! I knew you were a genius!” He bought a bottle of wine that night and drank half of it himself, his face flushed with joy, laughing until tears came to his eyes. I ended up getting a scholarship to a prestigious finance program at the state university. Marcus helped cover the remaining living expenses, insisting it was just a loan I could pay back later. “I will,” I promised. “With interest.” Throughout my four years of college, I worked constantly. I waitressed, handed out flyers, tutored, and worked retail. By the time graduation came, I had several corporate job offers. I chose a position as a junior analyst at a prominent global investment firm. On my first day, I called Marcus. “Mr. Miller, I got the job.” He let out a soft breath over the phone. “Work hard, kid. I’m proud of you.” “I’ll start paying you back next month,” I said. “There’s no rush,” he replied warmly. I stood outside the towering skyscraper downtown, looking up at the glass facade reflecting the blue sky. I thought of Grandma, the tiny country cottage, and the woman who had run away from me at the mall. All of that was in the past now. This was my new beginning. *** Ten years. How long is ten years? It is long enough for a trade school runaway to become a CFO. Long enough for a warehouse assistant to become the CEO of a multinational investment firm’s entire regional division. Long enough for old hurts to settle to the very bottom of one’s heart—unseen, until something stirs them up. In those ten years, I never went back to that apartment. My mother called a few times. She’d mention that Serena got into a decent college, that Serena graduated, that Serena got a job. I’d just reply with a polite, “That’s good.” “What are you doing these days?” she’d ask. “Just working,” I’d say. “Where?” “Out of town.” “Are you making enough?” “Enough to get by.” Eventually, she stopped asking, and I stopped answering. But I never forgot. I never forgot the way she looked at me like I was a monster when I was eight. I never forgot crouching in the dirt yard, listening to them laugh inside. I never forgot her telling me she was too busy while Grandma lay dying. I never forgot the tiny dark room, the gray brick wall, and the plate of food I was never offered. I kept every single memory locked away. This spring, my firm was handling a major acquisition. We were looking to acquire a rapidly rising local cosmetics brand called “Serene Beauty.” It was an e-commerce startup that had taken the market by storm. The founder was a young, self-made female entrepreneur, and the media loved her story. When the due diligence file was dropped onto my desk, I was in the middle of a meeting. My assistant whispered, “Ms. Sinclair, here is the file on the Serene Beauty acquisition.” “Thanks,” I murmured, not looking up. After the meeting, I returned to my office and opened the folder. On the very first page was the founder’s biography, complete with a professional headshot. My hand froze. *** ####

The face in the photo. At first glance, she looked incredibly like me. The eyes, the nose, the shape of the lips—everything carried a haunting familiarity. But her face was flawless, her lips parted in a soft, confident smile. It was the kind of smile that belonged only to someone who had been deeply loved and protected her entire life, someone who had never known want. I stared at the photo for a long time. Then, I scrolled down to read the text. “Serena Sinclair, 30, only child. Born to a loving, wealthy family. Graduated from state university, subsequently founded ‘Serene Beauty,’ currently serving as CEO…” *Only child.* *Loving family.* *Wealthy upbringing.* I read those words three times. So that was it. In their world, I had never existed. All those years, my mother had proudly told everyone that she only had one daughter. No wonder she had run away from me at the mall. She wasn’t afraid of me recognizing her. She was terrified that people would find out she had another daughter—one she had abandoned in the countryside for eight years. She was terrified that her perfect, elite life would be stained. I closed the file, stood up, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the Chicago skyline stretched out under a piercingly blue sky. I stood there in silence. My assistant knocked and walked in. “Ms. Sinclair, when would you like to schedule the meeting with the Serene Beauty team?” I didn’t turn around. “Set it for next week. I will personally lead the final negotiation.” The assistant looked surprised. “You’re going personally?” “Yes,” I said, my voice cold and steady. It had been sixteen years. I wanted to ask her face-to-face. *Did you ever hear about the sister you left behind in the dirt?* *** ####

The meeting was held in the main conference room at Serene Beauty’s headquarters. I brought three people with me: our head of legal, our financial director, and a project manager. Their side had about eight people, including the founders, the vice president, and various department heads. When I walked into the room, she stood up. Serena Sinclair. She was slightly thinner than in her photo, dressed in a sharp white blazer, her hair styled perfectly, wearing elegant, minimalist makeup. She smiled and extended her hand. “Ms. Sinclair, it is an honor to meet you.” I shook her hand briefly. “Likewise, Ms. Sinclair.” Her hand was incredibly soft and perfectly manicured, with pale pink nails. My hands were bare. These hands had chopped wood, fed livestock, dug up wild roots, washed dishes, and calculated millions of dollars on a keyboard. We took our seats, and the meeting began. My project manager ran through the presentation, outlining our valuation, integration plans, and future growth strategy. Her team raised questions, our legal counsel responded, and our finance director filled in the details. It was a standard, highly professional corporate negotiation. I remained quiet, observing. Serena didn’t say much either. But her eyes kept drifting back to my face—lingering for a moment, shifting away, and then returning again. I knew exactly what she was looking at. Halfway through, we took a fifteen-minute coffee break. I stood up and walked over to the window, looking out at the nearby park. Serena walked over and stood beside me. “Ms. Sinclair, have we met somewhere before?” I kept my gaze fixed outside. “I don’t think so.” She was quiet for a moment. “You look strikingly like someone I used to know.” I turned my head to look her in the eye. “Who?” She blinked, startled, and then shook her head. “Never mind. I must be mistaken.” I didn’t press further. She gave me one last, lingering look before walking away. The afternoon session went smoothly. We finalized the details, signed the letter of intent, shook hands, and wrapped up. She escorted us to the elevators. Just as the doors were closing, I caught her eye. She was still staring at me, her expression a mix of confusion and dawning realization. As the elevator descended, my assistant smiled. “That went incredibly well, Ms. Sinclair. We should be ready to sign the final contract next week.” “Yes,” I murmured. We walked out of the building, and I climbed into the back of my car. I leaned my head against the leather headrest and closed my eyes. A single memory flashed in my mind. An eight-year-old girl in a pink princess dress, looking back at me at the mall. Just one look. So bright and completely innocent. Three days later, my phone rang. It was an unrecognized local number. I picked it up. “Victoria Sinclair speaking.” Silence stretched on the other end for a few seconds. “Is this… Patience?” I held the phone to my ear, remaining silent. I could hear her breath hitching, her voice beginning to tremble. “It’s Serena. I know it’s you. I knew the moment I saw you… You look just like Dad…” I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the city. “What do you want, Serena?” Another long pause. “I want to see you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “There are things… I need to tell you in person.” “Fine,” I said. We agreed to meet at a quiet cafe downtown at three in the afternoon. When I arrived, she was already sitting by the window. A cup of coffee sat untouched in front of her. She stood up nervously when she saw me approach. I sat down and ordered a black coffee. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at me. “Patience…” “Don’t call me that,” I said flatly. She flinched. “I… I don’t even know where to start. Mom…” “Leave her out of this,” I interrupted. “I didn’t come here to walk down memory lane. If you have something to say, say it directly.” She lowered her eyes, her fingers twisting together so tightly her knuckles turned white.

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My wedding was just around the corner, yet I received an engagement invitation from my arch-nemesis. She had publicly posted on her social media: “Sera, you’ve hated me for so many years. Now that we’ve both found our own happiness, I hope we can finally put the past behind us at my party.” I politely declined. There was absolutely no way in hell I was ever reconciling with her. The people in our social circle immediately began trash-talking me on Snapchat while coddling her. “What do you expect? Is Seraphina Vance ever capable of being a decent human being? Did you forget how she tried to steal your boyfriend back in college? Honestly, it’s better if she doesn’t show up!” “Exactly! Anyone who associates with a snake like Sera is just waiting to have their man stolen.” Instead of getting angry, my nemesis even apologized to everyone on my behalf. “Sera, sweetie, both my fiancé and I really wanted your blessing. We just want to move past the drama.” With that, she handed me a physical invitation. The moment I opened it, my mind went completely blank. The groom’s name printed on the card… wasn’t that my freeloading fiancé? “Fine! Since you want me there so badly, I promise I won’t disappoint you!” 1 Looking at the smug, triumphant smirk on Chloe Sterling’s face, I turned and walked away without saying a word. But only I knew that the elegant invitation card in my hand was already crumpled to pieces under my grip. I drove home in a fury. When I walked through the door, I saw Ethan Hayes busy assembling our gold-embossed wedding invitations at the dining table. Hearing the door, he looked up. A warm, sweet smile immediately spread across his face. “You’re back, babe! Hungry? What do you want to eat? I’ll whip something up for you right now.” He was already standing up to head to the kitchen. My gaze drifted down, landing on the table cluttered with wedding favors. Our wedding was in three weeks. Honestly, we could have easily hired a coordinator to handle all of this. But Ethan had insisted. He said it was *our* wedding, and that doing everything ourselves made it meaningful. Yet, this exact man—who acted as if I was his entire world—was named as the groom on my arch-nemesis Chloe’s engagement invitation. Could there really be such a ridiculous coincidence in this world? I didn’t buy it for a second. Thinking of the invitation in my bag, I decided to test him. “Ethan, Chloe invited me to her engagement party. It’s the day after tomorrow. If you’re free, why don’t you come with me?” The very next second after the words left my mouth. His reaction was incredibly defensive. “I can’t. I’m busy.” Realizing his tone was too sharp under my suspicious gaze, he quickly tried to smooth it over. “I mean… Chloe has always targeted you. She definitely has a hidden agenda!” “Plus, I have a business trip that day, so I won’t be there to protect you. I really think you shouldn’t go.” He kept rambling, adding excuse after excuse. But if my memory served me right, this was the first time Ethan had ever directly opposed me. Usually, he was a total yes-man, always putting me and my wishes before everything else. The obvious truth stared me in the face, making my chest feel incredibly heavy, like a physical weight was crushing my lungs. After a long pause, I cut him off and quietly replied, “Okay.” The moment I said it, I distinctly saw Ethan let out a massive sigh of relief. On the day of the party, however, I showed up at the luxury hotel right on time, invitation in hand. Chloe was standing at the entrance of the grand ballroom, wearing a custom crimson designer gown. With her flawless, radiant makeup and a sweet smile, she welcomed every guest. She looked like the happiest woman in the entire world. It was just an engagement party, but I heard that almost the entire elite social circle of the city had showed up. Before I even got close, I could hear the loud, flattering voices of her friends. “Chloe, this engagement is so sudden! You’re going to break so many hearts today.” “I know, right? You’ve been so mysterious about the groom. Is he super handsome?” “Are you kidding? If he wasn’t gorgeous, our Chloe wouldn’t even look at him!” Surrounded by the crowd, Chloe blushed cutely. “You’ll see him soon.” Then, she turned her head and met my eyes. Her smile widened instantly. “Sera! You actually came. I thought you’d ignore my invite.” She looked genuinely thrilled to see me. But I knew exactly what kind of disgusting malice was hidden beneath that sweet, innocent mask. I had absolutely no interest in playing “best friends” with her. She didn’t seem to mind my coldness, still gracefully gesturing for me to head inside. However, the flock of mean girls surrounding her weren’t about to let me off. They immediately stepped forward and blocked my path. “Seraphina Vance! I’m warning you. Chloe was nice enough to invite you because she’s a saint, but don’t you dare ruin this for her.” “If you try to cause any drama today, we will make sure you regret it.” Hearing this, Chloe immediately feigned a worried look and stopped them. “Guys, don’t say that. Sera wouldn’t do that.” “Chloe! Have you forgotten how she tried to steal your boyfriend in college? She has a history of being a homewrecker. Who knows what she’s planning today?” “Exactly. Look at her, dressed up like she’s trying to seduce—” The girl suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Sensing something off, I followed her gaze and realized she was staring intently at my wrist. Then, she asked in a loud, shocked voice, “Wait, why is that bracelet on your wrist?” I frowned, not immediately catching her drift. I snapped back, “It’s on my wrist because it’s mine. Why else?” Chloe stepped closer to me, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “You… you’re lying. That bracelet belongs to my fiancé!” 2 The guests nearby began to gather around us, their curious eyes pinning me down. Whispers broke out in the crowd. “What’s going on over there?” Seeing the audience grow, Chloe’s friends raised their voices even louder. They sneered and pointed at me. “Seraphina Vance, you are truly disgusting. Do you have a pathological need to steal other people’s things and men?” “Actually, let me correct myself. Do you just have an obsession with stealing everything that belongs to Chloe?” They stared at me like they were interrogating a criminal. Standing in the center of the drama, Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears, looking like the ultimate victim. At first, I thought she threw this engagement party just to humiliate me by showing off that she had stolen my fiancé. But now I realized it was much worse. Chloe wanted to completely ruin my reputation and destroy my life. My eyes darkened as I watched her look at me with a deeply hurt expression. “Why, Sera? Why did I sincerely invite you to celebrate my happiness, only for you to do something like this?” “I don’t know how you managed to steal that bracelet, but if you hand it back right now, I promise I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.” The moment she finished, one of her loyal minions immediately barked, “Why should we let her off? If you ask me, we should call the police and have her arrested!” “Such a beautiful day, completely ruined by her presence. How pathetic!” I glanced at the two girls shouting the loudest. They were Chloe’s ultimate bootlickers. Everyone in the room was looking at me with absolute disgust. Thanks to Chloe’s years of rumors and manipulation, I had always been completely isolated in this social circle. This wasn’t my first time experiencing this kind of setup. I vividly remembered the first time she pulled this. We were in elementary school. Chloe accused me of stealing her favorite necklace. Back then, I was too young to do anything but cry and clumsily try to explain myself. But nobody, not even the teachers, believed a single word I said. As we grew older, her schemes got smarter. She plagiarized my essay, then turned around and told everyone I was the one who copied her. On the day I was scheduled to give a major presentation, she went into the system and deleted my entire slides deck. I couldn’t beat her at her dirty games, so I tried my best to just avoid her. But she was like a piece of cheap gum stuck to my shoe—no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake her off. Eventually, I gave up trying to fit in and stopped attending these social events altogether. Since she couldn’t frame me in person anymore, she started spreading rumors behind my back, painting me as a spoiled, arrogant, and tyrannical rich girl. I didn’t even notice when it happened, but suddenly, everyone started comparing me to her. They put her on a pedestal while dragging my name through the mud. The last major incident was the infamous “homewrecker” rumor from college. The absolute truth was that her boyfriend at the time had randomly blocked me in the hallway, confessing his love to me out of nowhere while saying a bunch of creepy things. I didn’t say a single word. I just rolled my eyes and walked away. Yet, the very next morning, photos of us standing in the hallway were plastered all over the campus forums. With Chloe fueling the fire, everyone began calling me a slut and slut-shaming me online. I didn’t bother to explain. First, because I couldn’t care less about what those idiots thought. Second, because I knew they wouldn’t believe me anyway. Though, after I slapped a few of those trolls with defamation lawsuits, everyone shut up pretty quickly. Coming back to reality, I heard someone snap at me. “Sera Vance, are you staying silent because you’re guilty?” I let out a cold, mocking laugh, looking straight at Chloe. “Since you guys are so confident that I stole this bracelet, go ahead. Call the cops.” Hearing this, the girl next to Chloe immediately unlocked her phone to dial 91

But just as she was about to press call, Chloe suddenly slapped the phone out of her hand, sending it clattering to the floor. 3 Chloe didn’t explain her actions to her friend. She just turned to me, looking incredibly distressed. “Sera, if the police actually arrest you, your reputation will be completely ruined.” “If you love this bracelet so much, I can just ask my fiancé to give it to you as a gift… but please, you can’t keep living your life stealing from others.” She spoke with such gentle concern, as if she actually cared about my future. I was so angry I almost laughed out loud. Reputation? Did I even have one left in this room? “You keep claiming this bracelet belongs to your fiancé. Do you have any actual proof?” I stared at her, curious to see how she’d lie her way out of this one. Without skipping a beat, she sobbed, “My fiancé wears this bracelet every single day. Since today is our engagement, I asked him to take it off so we could clean it. And suddenly, it magically appears on your wrist today of all days? Do you honestly think anyone believes that’s a coincidence?” “The truth is right here. I don’t even care about getting it back anymore, I just don’t want to see you ruin your life over your jealousy.” Looking at her playing the righteous, magnanimous saint, I chuckled softly. “Fine. Let’s wait until your fiancé gets here, and we can ask him ourselves how this bracelet ended up on my wrist.” This bracelet was indeed a gift from Ethan. But what Chloe didn’t know was that these were custom-made puzzle-lock couple’s bracelets. He had commissioned them specifically. The unique thing about these bracelets was that once they were locked onto your wrist, they couldn’t be taken off normally. The only way to unlock them was to bring both bracelets together, touching them for about ten seconds, and the magnetic lock would automatically release. And if I remembered correctly, when Ethan left the house this morning, his bracelet was still firmly locked on his wrist. Under my steady gaze, a flicker of panic flashed across Chloe’s eyes. So, despite her big talk, she wasn’t entirely confident either. I saw her mouth open, trying to say something to salvage the situation. But before she could speak, her angry minions lost their patience. One of them stepped forward and yelled: “Why are we wasting our breath on her? She’s just being stubborn. Let’s just rip it off her wrist!” “It’s not hers, period! Since her parents clearly didn’t teach her any manners, we’ll do it for them today!” With that shout, a few of the girls physically surrounded me. I was trapped and outnumbered. Within seconds, they grabbed my arms, pinning me down while trying to violently yank the bracelet off my wrist. But the bracelet was custom-sized to fit my wrist perfectly. Without the unique unlocking method, it was physically impossible to pull off. In no time, my skin was scraped raw and turning a painful, angry red. But they didn’t care about hurting me. They only cared about tearing the jewelry off. “Why is this stupid thing so tight? You bitch, what kind of trick did you use to lock this on?” “Just cooperate and you’ll suffer less!” Suddenly, a sharp pop echoed, followed by a searing flash of pain in my wrist. The intense pain brought tears to my eyes, and I began to struggle violently, trying to push them off me. With both of my hands pinned, I had no choice but to kick out blindly, trying to force them to let go. My foot connected with one of the girls in front of me. In response, they cursed loudly and shoved me hard onto the floor. My hair fell wildly over my face. My knees and elbows scraped against the hard floor, tearing the skin. I looked like an absolute mess. But nobody was looking at my injuries. Instead, everyone’s attention was drawn to my handbag, which had fallen and burst open when I was shoved down. The contents of my bag were scattered across the floor. Among the clutter, a few elegant, gold-embossed cards were glaringly obvious. “What is this?” “Why… why does this wedding invitation have your name and my fiancé’s name on it?!” Chloe rushed over and picked up one of the cards, her voice trembling with shock. 4 Those were the wedding invitations for my upcoming wedding with Ethan. I had kept a few in my bag to mail out later. Now, Chloe held them up for everyone to see. Her dramatic gasp drew the entire room closer. Everyone crowded around us. The girl standing next to Chloe snatched one of the cards and read the contents out loud so even the people in the back could hear. A terrible, sinking feeling settled deep in my stomach. But in my current state, I couldn’t physically fight them to get the cards back. I could only sit on the floor, forced to listen to her mockingly read the words while the crowd’s judging, disgusted stares rained down on me like daggers. “And here she was pretending she didn’t care about Chloe’s man! She literally printed fake wedding invitations! Sera Vance, are you seriously going to deny that you’re trying to steal Chloe’s fiancé now?” “Writing someone else’s fiancé’s name on your own wedding invitation… how desperate and sick do you have to be?” “If someone did this to my man, I’d throw up for three days straight.” “Sera, are you genuinely delusional? Do you seriously hallucinate that everything Chloe has belongs to you? Do you have no shame?” My standing in this circle was non-existent. Which was exactly why I had never planned on inviting any of these people to my wedding in the first place. Ethan had agreed, saying that our wedding should be about our happiness, not about showy rituals. We only wanted people who genuinely loved and supported us to be there. I never imagined that this beautiful sentiment would be twisted into proof of my “obsession” and “delusion.” They even started whispering that the engagement photos inside were probably photoshopped. They only believed what their warped minds wanted to believe. They only believed Chloe. Anything I said would just be white noise to them. To them, I was the ultimate villain. As the crowd’s insults grew louder, Chloe suddenly raised her hand. “Enough!” She wiped away a fake tear, looking incredibly brave as she looked down at me. “No matter what your sick goal is, Sera, you won’t break us apart. I trust my fiancé.” “He’ll be here any minute. Once he arrives, the truth will come to light.” Hearing Chloe’s absolute confidence. I didn’t need to be a genius to realize that she and Ethan had already hooked up behind my back. Simply put, Ethan was going to take her side. I was too exhausted to analyze how or why he betrayed me. The throbbing pain in my sprained wrist was getting unbearable. I was genuinely worried that if I didn’t go to the hospital soon, I’d end up with permanent nerve damage. I reached for my phone on the floor, intending to call the police. But before my finger could even touch the screen, a bucket of ice water was violently splashed all over me. My phone screen was instantly covered in water, making the touch screen completely unresponsive. I gasped from the freezing shock and looked up. One of Chloe’s close friends was standing over me, dropping an empty ice bucket onto the floor. She sneered down at me, suddenly pulling a small Swiss army knife out of her purse. “Are you awake now, Sera Vance?” “Since you’re awake, I think it’s time someone taught you a lesson on how to behave.” “Aside from your pretty face, you’re inferior to Chloe in every single way. You’re nothing but a cheap whore who uses her looks to seduce other women’s men.” She took a slow step toward me, playing with the small blade. “I’d be doing the world a favor by ruining that pretty little face of yours today!” Chloe was insane, and her friends were completely unhinged. No girl would ever be indifferent to having her face mutilated. I tried to scramble backward to escape, but my sprained wrist gave out, and I couldn’t get up. Chloe stood in the background, whining, “Guys, please don’t do this,” while simultaneously listing all my “crimes” to egg them on, ending with a hypocritical, “Aren’t we being too harsh on her?” She had absolutely no intention of stopping them. This was exactly the bloody show she wanted to see. Seeing the girl raise the knife, aiming it right at my face, I forced myself to sound cold and steady. “If you touch me, I promise you will spend the rest of your life in prison!” “Oh, please! Who are you trying to scare? I’d love to see how you’re going to make me regret this!” “Did you honestly think anyone in this room is going to help you?” But just as her words echoed through the room, the loud, aggressive roar of multiple luxury sports car engines sounded outside the venue. Everyone froze and turned toward the glass entrance. A fleet of black luxury sedans pulled up, and a tall, incredibly handsome man in a tailored suit stepped out, his face carved of pure ice. “What the hell is going on here?”

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On the day I gave birth, I watched with my own eyes as my nanny swapped my newborn baby with her own. I pretended not to notice. For eighteen years, the nanny’s son lived under my roof, eating the finest food, wearing the best clothes, and enjoying every luxury my wealth could buy. He eventually graduated at the top of his class and secured a full-ride scholarship to an Ivy League university. Meanwhile, I stood by and watched the nanny micro-manage my “son’s” life, constantly beating, verbally abusing, and humiliating him. On the day of his graduation party, the nanny burst into the ballroom, holding a DNA test report to crash the celebration. “Toby is my biological son!” she screamed. “It’s time we swap them back!” I curled my lips into a smile. “Sure.” “Mrs. Vance, I bought the cake Toby wanted, and your favorite desserts too. I’ve put them in the fridge.” Brenda, the nanny, had a flattering smile plastered across her face. Whenever she looked at Toby, her eyes practically overflowed with deep, maternal affection. Ever since I brought the baby home from the hospital, she had poured her heart and soul into him. It was as if she wanted to give him the entire world. If Toby wanted something, she would make sure he got it instantly. Whether it was gourmet food or expensive toys. Even Richard was starting to worry that Toby would end up spoiled and entitled. But I knew the truth. Brenda just wanted her own son to live the best possible life and enjoy every luxury. I didn’t expose her. I just nodded and watched her put the cake in the fridge. Behind her stood a small, scrawny boy dressed in patched-up, oversized clothes. He had a thin, hollow face and sunken eyes. He looked much smaller and weaker than other kids his age. This was my “son.” Brenda had legally named him Lucas, but she only ever called him “Trash.” As Lucas walked into the kitchen, Brenda slapped him hard across the face. “Where are your manners? Didn’t I teach you to greet people when you walk in?” Just then, Toby ran down the stairs. Before he could even speak, Brenda rushed over to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Toby, sweetie, do you want some cake?” “Thanks, Brenda. Can you plate it for me, please?” He flashed a bright, sunny smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Brenda’s face lit up with joy. She immediately grabbed the cake, plated it, and even set the fork down perfectly for him. Once she was done, she turned back to her trembling biological son standing in the corner. She kicked him hard in the shin. “Why are you standing there looking like a kicked puppy? Get back to your room! Just looking at you ruins my day!” Lucas fell to the floor, his head hitting the hardwood with a dull thud. Tears welled up in his eyes. But he didn’t cry. He scrambled back up immediately, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Even Toby looked startled by the violence. But Lucas just stood in front of Toby, bowing slightly. “I’m sorry, Toby. I’m sorry, Mom.” Clearly, he was used to this treatment. He knew exactly what to do to quiet Brenda’s rage. I was used to it too. After all, Brenda lived with us. In the beginning, she only beat Lucas behind closed doors. But once she did it in front of me and realized I didn’t care, she stopped hiding it. She would find any excuse to hit him right in front of my face. Even for something as trivial as not saying hello. And Lucas had learned to apologize instantly. 0

My husband, Richard, walked in just in time to see Lucas apologizing, a fresh bruise swelling on his forehead. Richard’s face darkened instantly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Even if he is your kid, you shouldn’t be beating him like that in front of Toby!” Was he worried about Lucas? Of course not. He was worried about Toby. He was terrified Toby would be corrupted by seeing such violence. “Yes, of course, Mr. Vance. I’m sorry. The brat just has no manners, so I had to teach him a lesson. Toby is so polite and cultured. This trash isn’t worthy to even breathe the same air as him.” Brenda smiled obsequiously, then glared venomously at Lucas. The boy shrank back two steps, his face turning pale. He huddled in the corner like a frightened bird, not daring to make a sound. Brenda rolled her eyes at him, then turned back to Toby with a beaming smile. “Toby, tomorrow is your first day of preschool, right? Should I pack some homemade cookies and snacks for you to take?” Toby nodded, offering a sweet, innocent smile. “Thanks, Brenda.” To him, this was just the nanny being nice. He didn’t think anything of it. Hearing this, Lucas cautiously reached out and tugged at Brenda’s apron, his voice trembling with hope. “Mom… I want to go to preschool too…” It hit me then. Lucas and Toby were born on the same day. They should have been starting school together. Even if it was just preschool. But standing next to Toby, Lucas looked a full head shorter. If someone told me he was only two years old instead of four, I would have believed them. “Preschool? Who do you think you are? You think you’re royalty? Kids where I come from play in the dirt, they don’t go to fancy prep-schools! You’ve got cheap blood but rich desires!” With that, Brenda began kicking and punching Lucas again. Lucas couldn’t hold it in anymore. He burst into loud, agonizing wails that echoed through the entire house. Richard rushed over to stop her, and Toby tried to block her too. I was the only one who sat there, coldly watching the circus unfold. Worried she might scare Toby, Brenda grabbed Lucas by his leg and dragged him down the hallway into the nanny’s quarters. The next morning, Toby put on his little backpack, and Brenda escorted him to the car. Richard noticed the lack of a shadow behind Brenda today. “Where’s your boy? Are you really not sending him to preschool?” “Mr. Vance, I appreciate the thought, but Lucas is a country boy. He doesn’t belong in a city school. I’ll send him back to the country to study when he’s older. You know my ex-husband was an absolute monster. He beat me constantly. Every time I look at Lucas, I just see that beast’s face…” Brenda’s eyes welled with tears as she spoke. Richard didn’t want to hear it. We had hired Brenda because she was a hard worker. When we found out she was pregnant, we didn’t fire her because we knew her husband was a piece of trash. The man drank, gambled, and smoked. And when he got drunk, he beat his wife. If Brenda didn’t make money, he would have beaten her to death. … After Richard and Toby drove off, Brenda and I walked back into the living room. As soon as we stepped inside, we saw Lucas kneeling on the floor, scrubbing the tiles. His tiny body was hunched over. His hands were too small to even wring the rag dry. Yet, he carefully and meticulously wiped down every single inch of the floor. If you looked closely, you could see sweat pouring down his face, and his leg was visibly twitching. 0

It must have been from the beating yesterday. I turned on my heel and walked away without hesitation, pretending I saw nothing. By the afternoon, when Toby was brought home, Brenda was the first to rush to the door to fuss over him. Toby answered her patiently, but the scrape on his cheek was hard to ignore. “Toby, sweetie, your face…” Brenda panicked, her voice laced with genuine terror. “I just tripped and fell.” Toby didn’t care. He knew that when you fall, you just get back up. It was no big deal. But Brenda was hysterical. “How did you fall? Are you hurt anywhere else?” She turned to me, her voice accusing. “Mrs. Vance, Toby is your child! How can you be so calm? Don’t you care about him at all?” I raised an eyebrow. “Kids fall and get scraped up all the time. He’s not made of glass. Your own son gets hurt every single day, and I don’t see you losing your mind over it.” Brenda snapped. “How can you compare Lucas to Toby? What is he even—” Realizing what she was about to say, Brenda cut herself off, her voice turning timid. “Mrs. Vance, I’m sorry. Please don’t mind what I just said. I’m just so worried about Toby. What if some bully picked on him at preschool? He’s been raised so delicately. Lucas is built tough; he can’t be compared to Toby.” Just then, Richard walked in and frowned. “If you gave Lucas even a fraction of the care you give Toby, he wouldn’t look like a walking skeleton. Where is he anyway?” “The boy was tired. He’s fast asleep in his room. Should I go wake him up?” Richard shook his head. “No, let him sleep.” Brenda grumbled, “He’s just spoiled. Sleeping at this hour… he needs a good beating.” Before she could say more, Toby tugged on my hand. “Mom, I’m hungry.” Brenda immediately chimed in, “I’ll go set the table right away!” She had prepared dinner hours ago, anticipating Toby would be hungry after school. I didn’t mind. I let her play the doting mother. It was almost as if by jumping in, she could pretend Toby had been calling out to her. After dinner, Brenda happily tucked Toby into bed. The next morning, Lucas was still nowhere to be seen. I finally told Brenda to go check on him. It turned out the boy had been burning with a high fever all night. By the time the doctor arrived, the fever had been running for too long. The doctor warned us that the prolonged high fever had caused permanent brain damage. He would suffer from involuntary tremors and spasms for the rest of his life. Brenda looked at Lucas with nothing but disgust. I stood beside her, my face completely expressionless. Why did I suddenly ask about Lucas? Because I wanted this game to become much more interesting, of course. How could he leave the stage so early? After that, Brenda continued to dote on Toby while her abuse of Lucas grew more frequent and severe. Because of his neurological damage, Lucas often lost control of his bladder. This accidents only earned him more brutal beatings from Brenda. I watched Brenda look at Toby with eyes full of deep, obsessive love, and I couldn’t help but smile. Keep spoiling him, Brenda. I can’t wait to see the end of this show. 0

Over the next fourteen years, Brenda dutifully took care of Toby’s every need. She wanted to do absolutely everything for him. Meanwhile, my “son” Lucas was sent away to a run-down farm in the Midwest just a few days after his fever broke. I heard his life there was miserable. Whenever Richard occasionally brought him up, Brenda would wave her hand in disgust. “Lucas isn’t cut out for school anyway. Unlike Toby, he’s only good for farm work.” And then she would launch into complaints about her abusive ex-husband and how hard her life was. Eventually, Richard stopped asking. The next time we saw Lucas was at Toby’s high school graduation party. Toby had graduated at the top of his class, got accepted into Harvard, and was awarded a massive scholarship. I had thrown a lavish, high-profile celebration at a luxury hotel to celebrate his achievement. But Brenda, who had taken a few days off, chose this exact day to show up. Behind her stood a trembling teenage boy. He was sun-baked, emaciated, and cringed at every sound. Brenda walked up to me and handed me a printed DNA report. “Mrs. Vance, I took Lucas to the clinic recently. I noticed his blood type didn’t make sense, so I did a DNA test. It turns out… he isn’t my son.” “The hospital made a mistake eighteen years ago. Lucas is your biological son. Toby is mine.” “No wonder I always loved Toby so much! It was the call of the blood.” “Now that we know the truth, we should swap them back, don’t you think?” Brenda rubbed her hands together anxiously, but her eyes locked onto Toby with a look of intense, greedy affection. Her eyes brimmed with tears, playing the part of a long-suffering, emotional mother perfectly. The news was like a bomb dropping on the banquet hall. The guests instantly erupted into whispers. “How could a hospital make a mistake like that? Is there more to this story?” “This is hilarious. The Vances raised her son to be a Harvard scholar with a full ride, and now she comes to claim him? Talk about hitting the jackpot!” “Exactly! Toby is so well-bred, smart, and a talented pianist. That’s all thanks to Eleanor’s parenting.” … On one hand, you had an Ivy League-bound scholar, a decorated pianist with a bright future. On the other hand, you had an uneducated, illiterate kid from a farm who trembled constantly and had to wear adult diapers. Anyone with a brain knew who to choose. “Sure. Let’s swap them back,” I said, a slight smile playing on my lips. The room fell into stunned silence. Even Brenda stared at me in disbelief. She never expected me to agree so easily. Richard immediately rushed to my side. “Eleanor! Do you even hear yourself?” “You’re going to hand Toby over to her based on some random piece of paper she brought in?” “What if this is fake? She hasn’t even done a test with Toby yet!” Toby looked at me, his eyes wide with hurt. “Mom… I’m your son!” “No, you’re not. I watched you get swapped in the nursery. Toby and I share no biological connection.” I shook my head, pulling out my own copy of a DNA report. Richard’s face turned incredibly pale. He shook his head violently, refusing to accept it. “But you always said Toby was your entire world! You almost died giving birth to him! You begged the doctors to save him over you!” “How could you just stand there and watch your own baby get swapped?” “You’re just angry, right? You’re saying this to hurt me, aren’t you?” He looked at me with begging eyes, desperate for the answer he wanted to hear. Under the weight of everyone’s stares, I shook my head firmly. “No. I saw the swap happen with my own eyes.” The moment the words left my mouth, a loud slap echoed through the room. Richard’s face twisted with rage, a face that slowly merged with the one in my memories. Instead of getting angry, I laughed. “What? Are you panicked now?” “Are you insane? You watched your own son get swapped and said nothing?” “What kind of mother does that? She’s laughing! She must be a psychopath!” Even Lucas looked at me. He ran over and grabbed my arms. “Why? Why did you do this to me? If you didn’t love me, why did you give birth to me?” He shook my shoulders frantically, but I shoved him away with cold disgust. “Get away from me. You make me sick.” He fell hard onto the floor. I took a deep breath, my smile growing wider. Finally. The day I had been waiting for had arrived.

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I never thought my fiancé was actually twins. Until that day, when Chloe, the adopted daughter, framed me for theft, and I was completely blacklisted by high society. My father just stood by and watched. Desperate for help, I went to find my fiancé—only to find two identical men, Ethan and Evan, in the attic. “Ethan, how much longer do we have to play along with Elena? If it weren’t for Chloe, I’d throw up every time I get close to her.” Ethan sneered, replying, “Come on, didn’t you put on quite a show last night? Her lips were practically swollen.” “Soon. Once Elena is completely driven out, Chloe will be the only heiress of the Sinclair family.” I collapsed to the floor, paralyzed. I couldn’t believe the family and love I had begged for were nothing but a sick lie. With trembling hands, I dialed that number. The man’s deep, teasing voice came from the other end. “Elena, running away isn’t always a good thing. Come back to me, and I’ll help you with anything.” I let out a bitter laugh and accepted. “Give me five more days, and I will sell myself to you completely.”

The voice on the other end fell silent for a moment. When Liam spoke again, the teasing tone was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. “Sell? Elena, don’t degrade yourself.” “I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for three years. Not for a transaction.” I chuckled bitterly, not believing him. *Ding-dong.* The doorbell rang, and I hung up the phone. It was Evan standing outside. I knew it was him because of the dark hickey on his neck—one I had left there myself. “Elena, are you still upset?” He walked in with a smile, reaching out to ruffle my hair like he always did. I coldly turned my head away, dodging his touch. “You know I’m innocent. When Chloe framed me for theft, why did you take her side?” The smile on Evan’s face froze, replaced by a helpless look. “Elena, you’re older than Chloe. Shouldn’t you let her have her way?” “Don’t worry about what the rest of the social circle says. Even if the whole world turns against you, I’ll always stand by your side.” Looking into his hypocritical, deeply affectionate eyes, my stomach churned. He was so disgusting. “Really? Then, thank you.” Seeing my reaction, Evan thought he had successfully calmed me down with his sweet words. He took advantage of the moment and continued: “Elena, there’s a gala tonight hosted by Chloe. Why don’t you come with me to support her?” I looked up at him, my eyes filled with sarcasm. “What, is the ‘thief’ show not over yet? Do you need me to go there just to be humiliated by her again?” “I’m tired. I’m not going.” Evan stepped behind me, softening his voice. “Elena, I know you’ve been wronged. But hiding at home won’t solve anything. Just do it for me, okay?” I remained silent. Evan pulled a sleek, elegant envelope from his suit pocket and waved it in front of me. “An invitation to Simon Joshua’s private studio.” “Elena, I remember you said you love his designs.” I looked up, my eyes locked onto it. “Accompany me to the gala, and I’ll arrange a meeting. Otherwise, I don’t think a master like Joshua would want to meet someone wrapped in a theft scandal and doesn’t know ‘the rules’.” It was a blatant threat. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. And I agreed. “Fine.” Evan smiled with satisfaction, planting a kiss on my forehead as if rewarding a pet. “Good girl. That’s the Elena I know.” “By the way, remember to wear the red dress I bought you. You look beautiful in it.” Watching his retreating back, I suddenly called out. “Wait!” Evan stopped at the door and turned around, looking confused. I stared into his eyes, forcing one last smile. “Do you love me?” “If you weren’t ‘Ethan,’ if we didn’t have this arranged marriage between our families, would you still love me?” Evan froze. It was as if he hadn’t expected such a “foolish” question. He lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. “Don’t ask silly questions. I’ll pick you up at eight.” He shut the door in a hurry, almost running away. I stood in the center of the room, unable to move for a long time. The last spark of light in my heart finally went out. “I see,” I whispered to the empty room. This time, I truly understood. My phone buzzed. It was a SnapChat message from Liam. [I agree to your plan.]

At exactly eight o’clock, the Vance family’s car pulled up. When I opened the door and got in, I realized the person picking me up was actually Ethan. Actually, the twins were easy to tell apart if you paid close attention. Ethan was serious and methodical. He was usually the one dealing with me during official business. Evan, on the other hand, was social and charming; he was the one I spent private time with. Normally, Ethan hated galas, so Evan should have been the one attending. I didn’t know why they had switched today. Ethan’s gaze swept over my dress, and he frowned. “Why aren’t you wearing the red one?” I did it on purpose. I knew Chloe’s dress would look highly similar to that red one. They always played this game where I “accidentally” wore the same style so Chloe could “effortlessly” outshine me. I was done playing along. I leaned closer, ignoring his question. Instead, I placed my finger gently on his neck. “Ethan, I just left a mark here yesterday. How did it fade so fast?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. He jerked his head away to avoid my touch, his voice tight. “I probably put some ointment on it. Let’s not talk about that. We need to go.” Suddenly, I grabbed his tie, forcing him to lean down. Under his shocked gaze, I leaned in and kissed his neck hard. I left a fresh, crimson mark right there. The sound of the wet kiss was incredibly loud in the quiet car. “You—” Ethan’s entire body went rigid. I was so close to him that I could hear his heart hammering wildly in his chest. *Clack.* From the passenger seat, behind the privacy partition, came the sound of something breaking. After a long pause, the driver, Arthur, spoke up. “Apologies, Master Ethan. My cup slipped.” What a terrible lie. I figured the person sitting in the passenger seat was Evan. Ethan’s voice was incredibly raspy. “It’s fine. Let’s go.” I let go of his tie and sat back. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter who was in the front seat. I just wanted to disgust Chloe. When the car door opened at the venue, I took Ethan’s arm. I could feel his muscles tensing. His ears were still red from that kiss. He was surprisingly pure-hearted compared to his brother. As soon as we walked in, I saw Chloe surrounded by a crowd, basking in their flattery. She initially cast a casual glance at me, not planning to cause trouble right away. But when the bright chandelier lights hit Ethan’s neck, revealing that fresh hickey, her smile instantly froze. She immediately marched over with her friends, blocking my way. “Elena, you’re a thief. How dare you show your face at my gala?” “Ethan, why do you bring just anyone here?” The girls around her giggled, and the crowd turned to look at me with mocking or amused stares. Ethan’s Adam’s apple moved, but he didn’t say a word to defend me. As expected, he chose to be a silent bystander. I let go of his arm and stepped forward. “Chloe, don’t make baseless accusations. Where is your proof?” “Proof? Everyone saw it! My diamond necklace was found in your bag!” I laughed mockingly. “Right. So if I slip something into your bag tomorrow and pull it out, does that make you a thief too? If you’re so sure, call the police. Chloe, you’ve never been soft-hearted with me. Why haven’t you called them? What are you afraid of?” My aggressive tone infuriated her. In a fit of rage, she threw her red wine right at me, then smashed her glass at my feet. “Keep talking, Elena! Dad said it himself.” “If I beat you in the fashion design competition, you will be thrown out of the Sinclair family like trash!” Chloe walked away with her head held high. Wine dripped from my hair, and my bare ankle was bleeding from a glass shard. The crowd whispered, but I ignored them and walked to a dark corner of the hall. Ethan stood behind me, hesitantly holding out a towel. I didn’t take it. Instead, I asked calmly, “Is this enough?” Ethan looked at me blankly. “What?” “Playing along so Chloe can trample on my dignity. Is this enough for your little show?” Ethan didn’t expect me to be so blunt. His eyes drifted down, flinching at my bleeding ankle. “I…” Seeing him hesitate, I felt exhausted. I didn’t want to talk anymore. “If it’s enough, remember your promise.” “The invitation to Joshua’s studio.” “Ethan, I told you I loved his work because I loved you. Not so you could use it to threaten me.” With that, I limped toward the exit. Ethan took a step forward, calling out, “Elena!” But I didn’t look back, and I didn’t stop.

I didn’t go straight home. Actually, the taxi pulled over at a corner. Liam opened the door. Seeing the driver’s respectful attitude, I knew he was Liam’s man. Liam didn’t say a word. He just knelt in the car, his strong frame squeezed near my feet. He opened a first-aid kit and gently disinfected and bandaged my ankle. His movements were incredibly tender, almost reverent. It was completely different from the controlling, possessive touches of the twins. “Don’t worry, I won’t judge your choices anymore.” “But I will make them pay for this.” I looked at him in surprise. Years ago, Liam used to control everything, even what I ate. Over the last three years, he had changed a lot. He didn’t stay long. After bandaging me, he got out of the car. The driver safely delivered me back to my apartment. When I pushed the door open, the living room light was on. Evan was sitting on the sofa, a first-aid kit open at his feet. It looked like he had been waiting for a long time. I stopped at the entryway, my voice cold. “How did you get in?” He smirked. “Your passcode is my birthday. It wasn’t hard to guess.” I didn’t reply. I changed my shoes and walked straight to the bathroom. “It’s late. You should leave.” Evan seemed displeased by my lifeless attitude. He stood up and approached me. “Elena, I came all this way with medicine to bandage your wound.” “Why are you so cold to me?” He leaned in close, almost kissing me. I frowned and dodged. Displeasure flashed in his eyes, and he grabbed my wrist. Jealousy and anger mixed in his voice as he demanded, “You kissed me in the car.” “Why are you dodging me now?” I knew he was talking about me kissing Ethan. It was hilarious. He didn’t even love me, yet he was acting like this. Since he was angry, I decided to make him even more miserable. I mocked him playfully, “Because…” “The cold, stern look you had in the car was much hotter than this desperate face.” Evan was instantly provoked. He pressed me against the wall, trapping me with his body. “Hot?” “Maybe I should stay tonight. Let’s see which version of me you find hotter.” I pushed him away, my eyes filled with pure disgust. “I’m covered in the wine Chloe threw at me. Doesn’t that disgust you?” As expected, the moment Chloe’s name was mentioned, any romantic tension evaporated. I heard his heavy, suppressed breathing. Then came a loud *slam* of the door. Evan was gone. As I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, my phone buzzed with a notification from the competition committee: [The submission deadline is tonight at 11:59 PM. Please upload your final work on time.] I opened my laptop and typed on the keyboard. [Confirm Submission.] The screen displayed: “Submission Successful.” I leaned back in my chair and let out a long sigh. My mind relaxed, but as I looked around my study, something felt slightly off. I couldn’t find any obvious traces of intrusion, so I assumed I was just paranoid from exhaustion. I turned off the lights and went to sleep. At that exact moment, in the Vance mansion. Two laptop screens lit up simultaneously. Evan, leaning against his sports car smoking a cigarette, checked his buzzing phone. An email notification popped up: [Design Competition Submission — Elena]. He stared at the sender’s name, hesitating to open it. In his study, Ethan was looking at his work files, but he hadn’t turned a page in hours. The email notification finally snapped him out of his daze. He was hesitating too. He wondered if he should forward it to Chloe as planned. Both Evan and Ethan knew that if I lost this competition, I would lose everything. Chloe would naturally become the sole heiress. This was the plan all along. They shouldn’t be hesitating now.

The award ceremony took place three days later. Chloe and I sat in the front row as finalists. Robert and Ethan sat in the VIP section as sponsors. The bronze and silver awards were announced one by one. With each name, Chloe grew more excited. She was extremely confident. When the silver list was finished and neither of our names had been called, the tension in the room reached its peak. This meant the grand prize—the Gold Award—would be between her and me. For us and the entire high-society circle, this was more than just a competition. Robert had already made it clear to the public: “Real or fake daughter? I only care about the strong.” “Whoever ranks higher in this competition will be the sole heir of the Sinclair family and marry into the Vance family. The other one will have nothing to do with us.” The spotlight danced between us. Finally, it locked onto me. “The Gold Award winner of this year’s Design Competition is—Elena!” Applause erupted like a tidal wave. I stood up. I could feel Chloe’s body go completely rigid beside me. I walked onto the stage and took the heavy trophy from the presenter. Robert stood up, a proud smile on his face as he congratulated me. But then, a disbelief-filled whisper came from below the stage. “Impossible… This is impossible…” Chloe’s face was white as a sheet. She abruptly stood up, staring at Ethan in the VIP section, her eyes filled with shock and betrayal. Ethan’s reaction was complicated. He seemed to have expected part of this, but another part clearly caught him off guard. Robert ignored her outburst. He ordered the security guards to keep an eye on Chloe so she wouldn’t cause trouble. Then, he took the microphone and addressed the media. “Since Elena won the Gold Award, I officially announce that she is now the sole heir to our family empire!” He paused and nodded toward Ethan in the VIP section. “And we have a double celebration tonight.” “Taking this opportunity, I officially announce the betrothal of my daughter, Elena, to the heir of the Vance family, Ethan!” But before Robert could finish, I stepped forward and gently covered his microphone. *Screech—* A harsh feedback noise rang through the speakers. The applause stopped instantly. The entire hall went dead silent, everyone looking at me in confusion. I met Robert’s shocked gaze and spoke into the microphone. “Father, you’ve got the wrong person.” I paused, my voice echoing clearly in every corner of the room. “He isn’t Ethan.” The air seemed to freeze. I stared at the man whose pupils dilated in shock, and said slowly, “Evan, are you still not done playing pretend?”

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