Category: English

My parents gave me a bank card and transferred twenty thousand dollars into it every month for my living expenses. But they never told me the PIN, so I couldn’t access a single penny. When I couldn’t afford to eat and applied for financial aid, my mom tore into me. “We already gave you the bank card, and twenty thousand a month—you’re still not satisfied? You ungrateful little jerk!” Then my dad suddenly fell into a coma and needed money to save his life. My mom got on her knees and begged me to take out all the living expenses they’d transferred to me over the years. I threw the bank card on the ground. “Mom, you forgot—you never told me the PIN. The money can’t be withdrawn.” My mom’s face instantly turned deathly pale. Late at night, my phone buzzed twice. My mom sent me a screenshot. Cross-bank transfer -$20,000. Note: Living expenses. [Iris, this month’s twenty thousand has been transferred to you. Don’t let yourself go without at school.] The phone screen’s light reflected on my face. I stared at that string of numbers, my fingertips going cold. [Mom, I need to talk to you about something.] My mom seemed to be in a good mood: [Sure, go ahead.] I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from sounding too tense. [Could you… tell me the bank card PIN?] I waited an hour before my mom replied: [Why are you suddenly asking for the PIN? Are you getting into trouble out there? Twenty thousand a month and you’re still not satisfied?] I gripped my phone tightly, my heart pounding. No, Mom, you transfer living expenses to the card but never told me the PIN. I can’t withdraw a single penny. Lately I’ve been eating nothing but bread rolls. I really can’t take it anymore. I don’t need that much money a month. Five hundred would be fine. Just transfer it directly to my SnapChat instead of the bank card. I can’t access it. The next moment, my mom’s name flashed on the screen. I quickly put in my earbuds. “Iris, have I been bad to you? Twenty thousand a month! I even gave you the bank cardwhat more do you want? Always making demands. You ungrateful little jerk!” “Mom, the card is useless to me if I don’t know the PIN…” My mom’s voice turned shrill. “Why should I tell you the PIN? That’s your father’s and my money! We’re not dead yet, and you’re already eyeing our assets. Have you no shame? I gave you the card, I transferred the money and now you want the PIN too? Why don’t you just fly to the moon? So greedy!” I instantly understood what my mom was implying: the money was transferred for show, not for me to actually spend. The call ended. I climbed down from my bed, pulled out a bread roll from a plastic bag, and slowly took a bite. The roll was cold and hard. I nearly choked and had to gulp down several mouthfuls of cold water. My roommate looked at me sympathetically. “Iris, eating bread rolls again? Don’t your parents send you any living expenses?” I nodded. It was laughable, really. My other roommates got two thousand a month and lived comfortably. I supposedly got twenty thousand a month but couldn’t access a dime of it, surviving only on part-time jobs. I’d lived like this for three whole years.

The next morning, I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt gritty and wouldn’t lift. My throat felt like it was filled with charcoal painful and parched. I forced myself to sit up and took my temperature: 101.7°F. Messages popped up on my phone: [Iris, it’s already nine o’clock. Why aren’t you here yet? We pay our part-timers daily! In my condition, there was no way I could work today. I opened SnapChat. Balance: $3.52. That wasn’t even enough to buy cold medicine. Left with no choice, I called my mom. “Mom, I have a fever—over 101 degrees. Could you transfer me some money so I can get medicine from the clinic…” I was met with a tirade. “Didn’t I just transfer you twenty thousand yesterday? And you’re asking for more money! You’re like a vampire, trying to bleed us dry until you’re satisfied!” My face burned, but my palms were ice cold. I sank into my chair, my voice hoarse and angry. “Yes, you transfer me twenty thousand every month, you gave me a bank card but you won’t tell me the PIN. That card is worthless to me! Three years. Do you know how I’ve survived each month? I hand out flyers, tutor students, wash dishes. I’ve earned every penny of my living expenses myself. I haven’t spent a cent of your money! You transfer money to the card but won’t let me use it—who exactly are you putting on this show for?” There was silence on the other end, then my mom’s shrill voice. “What, your parents are good to you and you don’t appreciate it? Now you’re blaming us? I gave you the card whether you can withdraw the money is your problem! Serves you right!” My dad tried to smooth things over. “Iris, you’re still young. When you get married, Dad will definitely tell you the PIN…” “You dare tell her the PIN and see what happens! What does a girl need all that money for? If she gets involved in something indecent, I won’t be able to show my face!” I wiped away my tears and swallowed the bitterness in my mouth. After borrowing money from my roommate, on my way back I saw Lily’s social media post: [Thanks to my employer for the treats!] Lily was the daughter of our housekeeper, Mrs. Parker. My mom doted on her treated her better than her own daughter. The image showed a SnapChat transfer from my mom for five thousand dollars. Note: Buy yourself some snacks. The plastic bag in my hand crashed to the ground. Lily—a complete stranger with no blood relation to my mom—casually received five thousand dollars. And I, her biological daughter, running a high fever, had to borrow money from others just to buy a pack of cold medicine.

A few days later, the school began accepting applications for financial aid. I filled out the materials and submitted them, but before long, they were rejected. When I heard the news, I couldn’t help rushing to the office. “Professor, I’m in financial difficulty. I’ve been working part-time jobs and meet the poverty criteria. Why was my application rejected?” The professor didn’t look at me. She lifted her teacup, took a sip, then set it back down. The office was silent. No one answered me just the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards. This dismissal gave me an ominous feeling. I stepped forward and repeated myself clearly and loudly: “Professor, why wasn’t my financial aid application approved? What’s the reason?” The professor finally looked up. She adjusted her glasses, a contemptuous smile on her face. “Miss Iris, at this school you need to learn how to be a decent person first. If someone’s morals are rotten, good grades won’t help!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone in the room. I felt a chill run through me. “What do you mean by that?” “Iris, your mother just called personally. She transfers you twenty thousand dollars every month. Do you know what twenty thousand means? How many people work half a year to earn that much! How dare you claim to be poor!” I opened my mouth to defend myself. “My parents transfer twenty thousand a month, that’s true, but the money stays in the bank card. They won’t tell me the PIN, so I…” “Miss Iris, please stop making excuses. Wrong is wrong. You’re an adult don’t you have the courage to admit it?” Sweat dripped from my forehead onto my faded shirt. I clenched my fists. “You can check my spending records, my bank statements. I really…” “Enough! You’re a student with higher education how can you be so shameless! Now please leave and stop taking up spots meant for students who actually need help.” “Also, I’m informing you that the financial aid will be given to Lily instead.” A wave of cold swept up my spine. “Why? Lily travels, shops, and watches movies all the time—she lives better than most students. What qualifies her for financial aid?” The professor slammed her desk. “Because Lily’s mother works as a housekeeper in your home! Her family has it hard. That alone qualifies her for the aid—not someone like you!” In the office, everyone’s eyes fixed on me—disdainful, mocking, gleeful. Several phones quietly pointed in my direction. I don’t remember how long I stood in that office. Finally, another professor took pity on me and said quietly, “Student, just go. If you keep arguing, you’ll only hurt yourself.” Back in the dorm, when I greeted my roommates, the one I was closest to turned away, her tone cold: “Iris, I never thought you’d be this kind of person. You’re clearly rich but kept crying poverty in front of us. Pay back the money I lent you as soon as possible.”

After transferring the money to my roommate, my dad called. “Iris, I heard about the financial aid. Don’t be angry. Your mom means well…” “Dad, Mom transferred five thousand to Lily the other day. You knew about that, right?” Silence on the other end. I bit my teeth, my nails digging deep into my palm. “She transfers five thousand to a housekeeper’s daughter but ignores her own daughter—won’t even give me five hundred. Is that appropriate?” “That’s different. Mrs. Parker has it hard. Your mom is kind-hearted…” I laughed. “Kind-hearted? So kind-hearted I can’t even afford to eat? What does Lily’s mom have to do with you? Are you people crazy?” My dad sounded annoyed. “Iris, how can you talk like that!” “I’m going to talk like this. During summer break before senior year, you took Lily on an overseas trip and made me work a summer job. When college started, I took a nine-hour hard-seat train ride by myself while you personally drove Lily to her school. Now I don’t have a penny for living expenses while she’s eating and drinking well on your money! You’re sick. Insane!” My dad gasped on the other end. He was angry but couldn’t refute me because I was telling the truth. “Dad, you’re the one who opened this bank card. Tell me—what’s the PIN?” Before my dad could answer, my mom’s voice rang out: “If you dare tell her the PIN, I’ll divorce you today! I’m done!” My dad became hesitant again. “Iris, when you’re more mature, I’ll definitely give you the PIN…” I pulled at the corner of my mouth. “No need.” I’d been hearing this line since the day I got the bank card—for three whole years. I was tired of it. I pulled out the bank card—the one that always showed “incorrect PIN” no matter how many times I tried. I stared at it for a few seconds, then violently threw it on the ground. Late that night, I was jolted awake by urgent ringing. My mom was crying so hard she could barely breathe: “Iris, come back right away—something happened to your dad!” I bought the earliest train ticket back. The house was already packed with relatives. At the sound of my arrival, everyone turned to look at me. I stood in the doorway. My mom lunged at me, nearly knocking me over. “Iris, your dad suddenly collapsed. He’s unconscious in the hospital. The doctor says he needs immediate surgery—the medical bills will be about three hundred thousand…” My hand tightened on my suitcase handle. My mom looked at me and finally revealed her true purpose. “We transfer you twenty thousand every month, don’t we? After three years, that should be at least three or four hundred thousand. Take it all out and save your father…” I rubbed my sore arm where she’d hit me and said nothing. “Iris!” My mom’s voice was sharp and shrill. “That’s your father! You have so much money in your card it’s all from us and now you’re going to watch him die? Your conscience has been eaten by dogs! Oh, my life is so miserable! I might as well die!” My mom wailed, but her eyes kept glancing my way. Relatives rushed to comfort her, their looks at me tinged with condemnation: “Iris, how can you be so thoughtless? That’s your parents’ money. Hurry up and hand over the bank card!” I let out a cold laugh, unlocked my phone, opened a recording, and turned the volume to maximum. Instantly, my mom’s malicious, contemptuous cursing echoed through the entire house. “Why should I tell you the PIN? That’s your father’s and my money! We’re not dead yet, and you’re already eyeing our assets. Have you no shame?” “You dare tell her the PIN and see what happens! What does a girl need all that money for? If she gets involved in something indecent, I won’t be able to show my face!” When the recording ended, the room fell deathly silent. I put away my phone and threw the bank card on the ground with a crisp sound. “Mom, you forgot—you never told me the PIN. The money can’t be withdrawn.” Under the shocked stares of the relatives, my mom’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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Everyone knew my boyfriend worked twenty-hour shooting days just to marry me. Even when he had no time to eat and coughed up blood on set, he’d just rinse his mouth and get back on the wire rigging. The day he won Best Actor, he finally felt he could give me the happiness I deserved. I stood there in my wedding dress, eyes red under the spotlight, reaching my hand toward him. He paused. Then turned and slipped the diamond ring onto the hand of his girlfriend from five years ago. The same ex-girlfriend he’d sworn five years ago he’d never contact again. “Sorry. All these years, I wasn’t actually doing this for you. I let you misunderstand. My apologies.” He shielded her as they left the venue. His friend laughed mockingly: “Sorry, Lydia. Actually, they’ve been together this whole five years. You seemed pretty into Holden, so we didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it.” I stood frozen in place. My best friend screamed over the phone: “What are you standing there for! Chase him down! Slap him!” I didn’t dare chase after them. Because his ex-girlfriend had died five years ago.

Everyone knew Holden Pierce was going to propose to me. Even I could see it coming. So I’d put on my wedding dress early. But now my wedding dress looked utterly ridiculous, captured in full by the entertainment reporters’ cameras. I didn’t move. I just stared in shock as Holden shielded Hannah in his arms, protecting her eyes from the camera flashes. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Though the girl wore a mask, her figure, her silhouette, the way she walked—all of it was identical to Hannah, who had died long ago! Holden didn’t know about Hannah’s death. Back then, he’d just sworn an oath never to see Hannah again. He’d even deleted all her contact information right in front of me. At first I’d been wary. But soon I let my guard down. Hannah’s body had been found in a storm drain. She’d cut ties with her parents long ago. No family to claim her. In the end, I was the one who paid for the young woman’s burial. I never told Holden. After all, she was his first love, and he was at a critical point in his career. I was afraid it would affect his state of mind. I’d watched them lower her into the ground with my own eyes. So who was this girl?! “Oh my, she still hasn’t reacted? Did the shock make her brain-dead?” “Serves her right! That’s what you get for clinging to Holden! Bet you didn’t see this coming—our man never even liked you!” “Love it!” My manager Sharon rushed out and dragged my dazed self into the car. “Are you stupid? Just standing there letting everyone watch you humiliate yourself!” “No, Sharon…” “Don’t talk. Look at the trending topics—we’re being destroyed!” I quickly opened the list. The top item read: [Holden Pierce: Never dated her, she’s been obsessively pursuing me] “Her” meant me. After Holden left the venue, he released a statement. Though Holden and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, the company never allowed us to acknowledge it publicly for the sake of our careers. All these years, countless people had accused me of being shameless, of endlessly chasing after their idol. Back then, Holden had held me close: “When your man wins Best Actor, I’ll propose to you right there in public. Let’s see who dares stop us then!” But now his statement clearly declared: [I have no private relationship with Miss Lydia. Throughout my career, I’ve only ever worked to marry my first love, Miss Hannah.] The attached photo showed him kneeling on one knee, slipping the ring onto Hannah’s finger.

To keep Hannah from being affected, he’d deliberately blurred out her face. A message popped up from his friend: [Sorry, Lydia. They actually never broke up. We knew you really liked Holden, so we kept giving you face and didn’t say anything.] [They’re already engaged. You should stop pursuing him.] Sharon snorted coldly: “Now they’re telling you to stop pursuing him? Wasn’t it him who fell for you at first sight and pursued you relentlessly? You didn’t even want to date him at first! These men—they ruin you, then blame you for it!” I said nothing. My mind kept repeating: “They actually never broke up.” For five years, had Holden been in contact with a dead woman? “With things like this between you two, I’ll cancel that variety show you were both supposed to do.” “Don’t cancel it!” I stopped Sharon. Sharon looked at me in surprise. “Don’t tell me… you still have feelings for him?” “Didn’t he say I’ve been the one pursuing him all along? Then let the whole country see who’s been pursuing who!” And while I was at it, I wanted to ask about Hannah—what exactly was going on? I still chose to participate in the variety show. Holden was somewhat surprised. He smiled coldly: “What, still can’t let go?” I didn’t answer. The host stirred up drama: “I heard that for the past five years, Miss Lydia has been the one hyping up your relationship with Mr. Pierce. May I ask, did you not know Mr. Pierce had someone he liked?” “I knew.” The comments section exploded: [I knew it! Lydia’s cheap to the bone! Knowing he had someone, still throwing herself at him! Taking advantage of the fact that his civilian girlfriend has no voice in this! What a bitch!] [Though I don’t like Holden’s civilian girlfriend either, I hate Lydia even more! I support the civilian girlfriend!] “Who said I was the one throwing myself at him?” I looked up. The next second, the big screen suddenly displayed screenshot after screenshot of chat records. The comments froze for a moment. Because everyone could see that in the beginning, it was Holden who pursued me. Holden’s breathing hitched. The comments gradually started flowing again: [Wait… why is Holden being so clingy with her? Isn’t Holden supposed to be our aloof male god?] [Oh my god, Holden called her baby! Holden, you stoic person using such sweet talk! Do you know how devastating that is!] [Is that the point! The point is your Holden was two-timing!] “Why are you showing this stuff!” Holden gritted his teeth. I laughed coldly: “Someone can spread rumors that I’ve been obsessively pursuing you all these years, but I can’t make our chat records public?” I pointed to the message he’d sent recently: “‘If I win Best Actor this time, will you marry me?’ Look, Holden, those are your words. You were the one who proposed to me!” Holden’s face went pale. The comments went wild: [This isn’t what I expected. From this perspective, it’s clearly Holden who deceived Lydia!] [Though I’m a Lydia hater, wasn’t this basically a proposal from Holden!] [Then what does it mean to publicly give the ring to someone else? Either way, deceiving someone’s feelings isn’t right, is it?] “Excuse me.” A familiar voice rang out. My back went cold. A girl slowly walked out from backstage. “Please don’t believe these chat records.” This voice… it was Hannah’s… exactly the same!

A slender silhouette stood at the front of the stage. Hannah removed her mask. In that moment, the entire venue gasped. She was stunning. Completely beyond civilian-level beauty. I too stood frozen. Not from being dazzled. I’d seen Hannah’s beauty before. But I was shocked that she looked exactly the same as before—the same beauty. Hannah wasn’t dead? Then who was the person I’d watched being buried five years ago… “Sorry, Lydia.” The friend who joined Holden on the variety show laughed: “Actually, those chat records of yours—I was the one chatting, pretending to be Holden.” “What?!” Holden’s friend Ethan scratched his head: “You kept pursuing Holden before, and Holden was afraid that if he rejected you, you’d drag everyone down together, which would be bad for everyone’s careers. So he opened an alternate account and had me chat with you instead.” [It was like this all along hahaha! Lydia must be dumbfounded haha!] So… all these years, Holden had been enjoying our physical intimacy offline, then having someone else handle me online? Ethan leaned down, speaking in a voice only we could hear: “It was just for fun. Don’t take it seriously. You can’t break them up. I deliberately sent that proposal message hoping you’d finally know your place.” Break them up? Ha. When had I ever tried to break them up? When I found out Holden had a white moonlight, I wanted to break up. He was the one who swore he’d never see her again. After that, his behavior was good. That’s why I stayed until today. I looked at Holden with red eyes: “Are you lying to me?” “Lydia, he’s not lying to you.” It was Hannah who spoke. “Because I have Pierce’s real chat records right here.” As she spoke, the big screen displayed a messaging interface. The chat background was a photo of Holden and Hannah together. My chat records with Holden spanned five years. Theirs spanned fifteen years. The comments scrolled frantically: [This feels right! When chatting with Hannah, Holden is aloof yet doting.] [Not even aloof! Look at that conversation on the 15th—Holden was acting cute with her~] [It took me zero seconds to ship this CP] [Look at Lydia! Staring at the screen like she’s brain-dead hahaha!] [Serves her right! Always chasing after our Holden, even trying to claim our Holden was simping for her. Can we start requiring psychological evaluations before entering entertainment?] [Exactly! We don’t need these delusional fangirls!] I truly did freeze in place. Staring hard at the big screen. April 11th of that year. The day Hannah died. At midnight that day, Hannah had sent her a message right on time: [You there?] My gaze slowly shifted from the screen to Hannah’s face. Too beautiful. Beautiful to an unreasonable degree. To a disturbing level… “Lydia.” She had already approached: “Thank you.” “For what?” She leaned closer, speaking in a voice only we could hear: “Thank you for collecting my body…” “Ah!” I cried out and stepped back. Hannah also showed a panicked expression. She stumbled several steps, nearly falling. Fortunately, Holden caught her steadily in his arms. Her eyes reddened: “Lydia, we were talking fine, why did you suddenly fall backward?”

“Holden, I didn’t do anything, I really…” She clutched Holden’s sleeve, her eyes glistening. Holden’s voice softened: “I know. Of course I know.” He shielded her behind him. Glaring coldly at me: “Lydia, don’t use your dirty tricks on Hannah! Bullying a civilian—is this your professional standard?” The comments chimed in: [I recorded it! I’m a witness! Hannah didn’t push her at all!] [That’s right! Lydia fell backward on her own!] [You think you’re acting? Nobody here tolerates manipulative behavior!] [Hilarious. She’s at least a B-list actress, yet she uses these tactics on a civilian. No wonder Holden doesn’t like her.] Hannah hid behind Holden. A mocking smile crossed her lips. Gone in an instant. My phone buzzed. I swallowed hard. It was my best friend Morgan. “Excuse me, I need to take this call.” [Tsk tsk tsk! Is this the manipulator running away after being exposed?] [Hahaha if it were me I’d find a hole to crawl into] [Everyone check trending topic #1! Lydia’s fake fall getting roasted, go laugh at her!] I answered the call: “Morgan?” “Run.” Those two short words from Morgan sent a chill down my spine. “What did you say?” I asked again, not wanting to believe it. “Look at the message I sent you.” Morgan’s message popped up. One glance was all it took. I immediately covered my screen. The host patted my shoulder: “Miss Lydia, are you unable to continue filming?” I swallowed: “Of course not…” “We understand.” The host smiled: “After all, the real purpose of our variety show is for Mr. Pierce and Miss Hannah to make their relationship official. They’re already promoting their wedding. We completely understand if you can’t bear to watch.” “This is too much!” Sharon slammed the table: “You deliberately called Lydia here to be a prop for those two! I wondered why all today’s guests were people Lydia and Holden knew! So you brought Lydia here specifically to humiliate her!” The host’s lips curled in a cold smile: “Even so, didn’t Miss Lydia come anyway? Doesn’t that mean Miss Lydia chose to pursue him?” “You—” I quickly stopped Sharon. Holden had already walked over with Hannah. He looked at me: “It’s fine. I won’t mock your embarrassment. After all, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I hope Hannah and I can receive your blessing. In three days, would you be willing to attend our wedding?” [Hahaha dying! Holden with the killing blow!] [Telling your simp ‘will you attend my wedding’? Lydia’s gonna cry herself to sleep tonight!] I bit my lip. He smirked: “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I—” “I do!” I held down Sharon, who wanted to curse them out. Both Holden and Hannah froze. I smiled: “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely give you both a valuable gift.” Holden frowned. “Then it’s settled. See you in three days!” With that, I didn’t give them time to react—I pulled Sharon and left. Never looked back at him once. As I walked, I couldn’t help but smirk— Holden, in three days, when you actually marry her, I hope you don’t regret it.

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I landed a huge deal overseas, and before boarding my flight home, I bought souvenirs for everyone in the department. When my assistant was counting heads, she accidentally left out Bowman. I told her it was fine and gave him mine instead. He took it, then hurled the souvenir right at my face. Everyone froze. “Left out by accident? More like deliberately humiliating me, right? So you signed one deal—what’s there to be so proud of? With one word from me, I could have you transferred to security tomorrow.” My assistant couldn’t hold back and shot back: “What gives you the right?” Bowman sneered: “Because I’m the chairman’s son!” I was stunned too. You’re Anderson’s son? Then who am I? My colleagues erupted into chatter. “The chairman’s son? Really? I’ve never heard of this…” “Look at how he carries himself—I always thought there was something different about him.” “Now that I think about it, he posted a photo on Twitter of him having dinner with the chairman at that revolving restaurant. I thought it was Photoshopped…” “No wonder Susan treats him so well. Last time he was half an hour late and she didn’t even mark it down.” “Alex is screwed now. Sales champion or not, what good ending can come from offending the chairman’s son?” Bowman’s chin lifted even higher as he listened to the gossip, contempt practically overflowing from his eyes. He pointed his finger right at my nose. “Alex, you hear that? Scared now?” He scoffed. “But you know what? I’m a generous guy.” “Right here, right now, get on your knees and kowtow to me three times.” “If I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll let you stay in the office with the AC.” The chatter stopped instantly. My female assistant Betty lurched forward, her face flushed red with anger. “Bowman, don’t go too far! Alex has been the company’s sales champion three years running!” “How many deals has he closed for this company? How many clients has he brought in?” “Even if you really are the chairman’s son, you have no right to make him kneel!” Confronted publicly, the fake composure on Bowman’s face crumbled immediately. Humiliated and furious, his eyes flashed with malice as he raised his hand to slap Betty across the face. In that critical moment, I caught his wrist, gripping it hard enough that he couldn’t move. “You dare lay a hand on my people?” I stared him down. Bowman struggled but couldn’t break free, his expression turning ugly. “Alex! Let me go, damn it!” Just then, a cold but authoritative female voice rang out from the department entrance: “What’s going on? Why is everyone gathered here?” It was CEO Susan. She wore a crisp white suit, her gaze sweeping over the chaos before settling on my hand gripping Bowman’s wrist. Her brow furrowed immediately, her tone carrying an undeniable command: “Alex, let him go.” I released my grip. Bowman shook out his wrist, his face now wearing an expression of being terribly wronged. Betty hurried to speak: “Susan! Bowman was the one who—” “Susan!” Bowman’s voice was louder, cutting Betty off directly. He pointed at his wrist, then at me. “Alex attacked me first! I just said a few words to him and he tried to hit me! Everyone saw it!” Susan’s gaze sliced across my face like a knife, not giving Betty a chance to finish. “Alex!” “Do you think signing one big deal means you can do whatever you want? Attacking a colleague in the office? What do you think you’re doing?!” “Susan, it’s not what—” I tried to explain. “I don’t want to hear your explanations!” Susan cut me off sharply. “I only believe what I see with my own eyes! Bowman is an intern, and you’re a senior employee and our top salesperson—you should be setting an example!” “Look at yourself right now!” “Arguing with an intern, and getting physical?” “Where’s your professionalism?!” She berated me relentlessly, every word dripping with favoritism. The colleagues around us held their breath. No one dared interrupt at this moment. But their exchanged glances spoke volumes. “See? Susan’s clearly siding with him…” “This favoritism is way too obvious.” “He really is the chairman’s son.” “Alex is done for, with Susan’s attitude…” “Sales champion or not, he’s nothing compared to the chairman’s son.”

Bowman stood behind Susan, tilting his head slightly to flash me a smile full of provocation. Susan took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her anger. She looked at me, her tone icy: “Alex, I’m giving you one day to write a thorough self-criticism and submit it to my office first thing tomorrow morning.” “Then publicly apologize to Bowman.” “If you don’t handle this properly, your quarterly bonus and year-end evaluation—well, you can figure that out yourself.” She finished, then turned to Bowman. Her tone immediately softened, even carrying a note of comfort: “Bowman, are you okay? Come with me to my office.” Bowman smugly adjusted his collar, and as he passed me, he let out a contemptuous snort that only the two of us could hear. Susan led him away under everyone’s watchful eyes. The department fell silent as death. Betty looked at me with reddened eyes, her face full of guilt and indignation. “Alex, I’m sorry. This is all my fault…” I told her it was fine. Betty was still worried. “Alex, what if he really does transfer you to security?” “You’re the backbone of our department…” I patted her shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, that’s impossible.” It really was impossible. Because the chairman Bowman claimed could decide my fate with one sentence was my father. On my college graduation day, my father called me into his study. “Alex, come straight to headquarters after graduation. Start as my assistant.” “Working by my side, you’ll learn a lot and see operations at every level. It’ll be good for when you eventually take over the company.” Back then, young and spirited, I had something to prove, so I refused. “I want to make it on my own,” I said, looking him in the eye, my tone firm. “I want to hide my identity and start from the bottom as a salesperson at a branch office.” “I want to know how far I can go, what I can achieve, without the ‘chairman’s son’ label.” My father paused, then slowly broke into a gratified smile. He stood up, walked around the desk, and clapped me hard on the shoulder. “Good! That’s the spirit! That’s my son!” “Go ahead. I support you.” “But don’t expect any special treatment from me.” So I joined the company as a fresh graduate, becoming the most ordinary salesperson in the sales department. No one knew about my relationship with the chairman, including Susan, whom my father valued highly. Those four years weren’t easy. In the first two months, I couldn’t close a single decent deal. I made hundreds of calls a day, all rejected. I knocked on countless doors that slammed in my face. I visited clients under the scorching sun, had my proposals torn apart—it was routine. I remember once, to win over a potential client, I showed up outside their office building an hour early for a whole week, hoping for a “chance encounter.” I got five minutes of their time. Though that attempt failed, I remembered the industry pain points they mentioned in passing and pulled all-nighters revising my proposal. In the third month, I closed my first deal. The amount wasn’t huge—just over a hundred thousand. But it was earned through my own trial and error, constant setbacks and lessons learned. The sense of accomplishment was far greater than I’d imagined. I finally found the right approach. Instead of blindly cold-calling and door-knocking, I studied our products in depth, analyzed the market, and precisely targeted client demographics. I spent my free time devouring industry reports and market data. Soon I landed an annual contract worth eight million. That deal made me famous in the sales department. In just four years, I went from a green graduate to business manager at the branch. Starting from zero to three consecutive years as sales champion. One step at a time, without the “chairman’s son” label anywhere on me. Every achievement was earned through sweat, brainpower, and persistence after countless failures. I knew every detail of the business, understood every market trend, and recognized every client need. I won honestly, and I won with integrity. Never did I expect to be humiliated by an intern today. More ironic still, he was impersonating my identity. And I, the real “chairman’s son,” was being ordered by the CEO to write a self-criticism and publicly apologize for “offending” this impostor. It was a complete joke. Back in my office, I sat in my chair, staring at my dark phone screen. After hesitating, I pulled up my father’s number and dialed. But all I got was the cold system message: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently turned off…”

I paused, then remembered. My father was overseas these few days attending an important industry conference. He was probably still on the plane or in a meeting. So I had to let it go. The next morning, Susan called a company-wide meeting. The agenda was to summarize the year’s performance and announce this year’s sales champion. The conference room was packed. The atmosphere grew subtly tense after Susan took the stage. She went through the usual opening pleasantries, then got straight to the point. “After rigorous calculations by the finance and operations departments, this year’s sales champion is…” She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. Many eyes instinctively focused on me. Three consecutive years as sales champion, plus the hundred-million-dollar deal I’d just closed—the result should have been obvious. But the next second, Susan clearly announced: “Bowman.” For an instant, you could hear a pin drop in the conference room. Then it exploded. “Who? Bowman? That intern?” “Are you kidding? He hasn’t even closed a single independent deal, has he?” “What about Alex’s hundred-million-dollar contract? How is this possible!” Voices of protest rose and fell. Scott, the sales department’s deputy manager, was the first to stand. His face flushed red, his voice trembling with emotion. “Susan! Is there a mistake with this result?” “Bowman’s performance in the system is practically zero. How could he possibly be sales champion?” “Alex’s performance is clear for everyone to see!” Lester, the marketing director, also frowned and spoke up. “Susan, we need a reasonable explanation, because this concerns the fairness and integrity of the company’s evaluation system.” Even the logistics department supervisor, who usually stayed out of such matters, couldn’t help commenting. “Yeah, Susan, this… this really doesn’t make sense.” Facing the tide of questions, Susan’s expression remained unchanged. She raised her hand to quiet the discussion, her tone calm but unquestionable. “There are no errors in the calculations.” “Although Bowman hasn’t completed many deals independently, he assisted the team in following up on multiple important projects.” “Including the overseas deal Alex recently closed—he did a tremendous amount of coordination and support work behind the scenes. His contribution was significant.” “The company evaluates comprehensive contribution value, not just contract amounts.” Scott immediately retorted. “Susan! That overseas deal was negotiated and closed entirely by Alex independently. Bowman just did some basic data compilation work as assigned.” “How can that count?” “Scott!” Susan cut him off sharply, her voice rising, her eyes sharp. “Are you questioning the company’s calculation abilities, or questioning my judgment?” Without waiting for Scott to answer, her gaze swept across the room. “The company has decided to reward Bowman with three million dollars in cash to recognize his perhaps less visible but absolutely critical contributions!” “I know everyone has questions, but please trust that the company’s decision is based on comprehensive consideration!” “I don’t want to hear any more baseless speculation and criticism!” As she finished, she slammed her hand down on the podium with a loud “bang.” The entire conference room went silent instantly, leaving only her slightly labored breathing. I frowned. Everyone was shocked into silence by this rare outburst. Though faces still showed defiance and confusion, no one dared speak up again. In this eerie silence, Bowman walked up to the stage with a spring in his step. His face couldn’t hide his smugness, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. As he took the ceremonial check from Susan, he even made a show of bowing slightly with false modesty. Facing everyone, he cleared his throat and began his speech. “Thank you for the company’s recognition, and thank you for Susan’s trust.” “Actually, I haven’t done nearly enough—just fulfilled an intern’s basic duties.” “Getting this award is truly an unexpected surprise.” “Here, I’d especially like to thank Manager Alex. Although…” “Some unpleasantness occurred before, he is indeed my senior, and I’ve learned quite a bit from him.” His words seemed humble, but his darting eyes and slightly raised chin revealed nothing but hypocrisy and provocation. Watching this absurd farce, listening to Bowman’s fake speech, the fury in my chest finally broke through its limits. Sitting here any longer would be an insult to all the effort and sweat I’d put in over the past four years. I stood up, ready to leave this nauseating place. “Alex!” Susan called out to me.

I stopped but didn’t turn around, my back to the podium. She walked to the front of the stage, her voice carrying through the microphone to fill the conference room. “Don’t leave yet!” “Yesterday you attacked a colleague in the department. You didn’t write a self-criticism, and you didn’t publicly apologize.” “And now what’s your attitude? Leaving before the meeting’s even over?” Without waiting for my response, she continued in front of everyone. “Given your recent terrible behavior—not only arrogant after your success, bullying a new intern, but even getting physical in a public company space.” “You’ve seriously violated company regulations and destroyed team harmony!” “After management discussion, starting tomorrow, you’ll be removed from your sales manager position and report to the logistics department, responsible for security at the main entrance of headquarters!” “I hope in this new position, you can properly reflect on your words, actions, and attitude!” “When you recognize your mistakes, then I’ll consider transferring you back to your original position!” I laughed bitterly. “Susan, no need to make it so complicated with all these transfers.” “I quit.” “If the sales department has any problems in the future, please ask Bowman to solve them.” “Don’t bother me.” I turned to leave the conference room. Behind me came Susan’s icy voice. “Alex, you think the company can’t function without you? You think way too highly of yourself!” I didn’t stop. She continued her mockery. “Without the company’s platform, you’re nothing! You won’t even be able to find a decent job!” Bowman hypocritically chased after me. “Manager Alex, don’t be impulsive!” “Jobs are hard to find these days. Being able to stay with our company as a security guard is already pretty good—at least it’s stable.” I shook him off forcefully and slammed the door in everyone’s sight. That evening, I got a call from my childhood friend Phillips, who’d just returned to the country this month. “Alex, it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m throwing a party at the estate—you absolutely have to come.” Thinking of how long it had been since we’d seen each other, I agreed. Then I sent my father a message. The next day, the Phillips estate was lively and bustling. As the only son of Seattle’s wealthiest family, Phillips’s birthday party was naturally grand and spectacular. Celebrities from all sectors gathered, and every major company sent representatives to offer congratulations. Susan and Bowman were there too. I’d just walked into the venue in simple casual clothes when I immediately caught their attention. “Well, if it isn’t our fired sales champion.” Bowman walked over with a wine glass, chin high, his voice loud enough for the entire venue to hear. “What’s this? Fired but still can’t let go, so you came here to beg for scraps?” Susan immediately chimed in, her tone cutting. “Everyone, look—this is our company’s former employee, Alex.” “Just fired yesterday for stealing company property, and today he dares to sneak into the Phillips family party!” The surrounding guests turned to look, their pointing and whispering rising and falling. “Security!” Bowman shouted loudly. “There’s a thief who snuck in here! Throw this social scum out!” Susan escalated her slander even further. “Everyone might not know—this person didn’t just steal, he also sexually harassed female colleagues at the company.” “After being fired, he held a grudge. He’s definitely here today to cause trouble!” Several guests began loudly jeering. “Get out!” “Trash like this doesn’t deserve to be here!” “How did the Phillips family let someone like this in?” “Look at how shabby he looks—he’s definitely here to steal!” “Security, hurry up and kick this social reject out!” “People like this should be in prison!” Just as the security guards started walking toward me, a voice came from the staircase. “What’s going on?” Phillips, wearing a custom suit, descended the stairs with composure. Under everyone’s gaze, he walked straight to me and gave me a forceful hug. “Alex, I’ve been waiting forever for you. Why are you only just getting here?” The entire venue instantly fell silent. Phillips looked around, his gaze finally settling on Susan and Bowman. “Who just said they wanted to throw out my best friend?”

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The prestigious kindergarten called to congratulate me—my son had passed the interview. They asked when I’d be paying the fees. My mind went completely blank. Three years of marriage, and I only had a daughter. Where did this son come from? I called my wife, a diplomat, but she just laughed it off, saying it must be a scam. After hanging up, I did something unprecedented—I requested leave from my military unit and called my father, the general. “Dad, Alice is cheating on me. Get me the best lawyer you can find. I want her to leave with nothing!” “Head to the diplomatic office building on the west side. Step on it—I’m going to catch them in the act.” The driver’s eyes lit up when he heard that. He cranked the wheel hard, and the high-performance military SUV shot forward like an arrow. “Hold on tight!” What should have been over an hour’s drive was compressed to twenty minutes. The vehicle stopped smoothly outside the heavily guarded diplomatic office building, and I walked straight toward the security post. “Hello, I’m here to see diplomat Alice.” The military officer on duty looked me up and down, his eyes full of scrutiny. “Do you have an appointment? Alice’s husband is home today and left instructions not to receive any visitors.” Alice’s husband’s husband? I let out a cold laugh and pulled out my ID. “I AM her husband. Marcus.” The officer glanced at it, looking even more confused—even wary. “Sir, please don’t joke around like that. We see Alice’s husband every day. He’s the famous pianist, Jonathan.” Jonathan? Just then, a man walked over and gave me a disdainful once-over. “These days everyone thinks they can latch onto the powerful, huh? Alice’s husband is a famous pianist. I just had afternoon tea with him.” “That outfit—are you here to apply for a driver position? Unfortunately, even the drivers here dress better than you.” I remembered him—the husband of another diplomat, famous in their circle for being a snob. My fists clenched tight. What a piece of work, Alice. What a piece of work, Jonathan! Jonathan was a poor student I’d sponsored from the mountains, put through university, who’d cried and promised he’d repay me. So this was how he repaid me. I couldn’t be bothered with this idiot. My gaze shifted past him to the figure hurrying out from inside. Jonathan wore an Armani suit, and on his wrist was the Rolex watch I’d given Alice for our third anniversary. When he saw me, the color drained from his face instantly, and he stumbled. “Mr. Marcus, how… how did you get back?” I crossed my arms, my eyes ice-cold. “What, do I need to report to you when I come to my own home?” Jonathan’s face went deathly pale. He glanced nervously at the people around us who were clearly listening in, then rushed forward trying to grab my arm. “Mr. Marcus, this isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go to a café, okay? Let me explain…” I jerked my arm away sharply. “Explain right here. Or is there something in this house I personally designed that you don’t want me to find out about?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it made Jonathan tremble all over. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper. “Mr. Marcus, it’s not what you think! Alice… Alice just saw how hard I was struggling out here alone and let me stay temporarily. We’re completely innocent, really!” Did he think I was a three-year-old? The fury in my chest burned like wildfire. I ground out through clenched teeth: “Innocent? Then why won’t you let me in? Open the door!” Jonathan hadn’t expected me to be so forceful. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, but he refused to move. My patience ran out completely. My voice turned ice-cold. “I’m giving you three seconds. If you don’t open that door, I’ll blow it up!”

Jonathan was shaken by the killing intent in my words. He knew I wasn’t joking. With trembling hands, he finally entered the code on the door lock. “Beep.” The door opened. I didn’t spare him another glance and walked straight in. The moment I entered, I saw that my wedding photo with Alice had been taken down. In its place was a family portrait of Jonathan and Alice with a young boy. In the photo, he smiled with refined elegance, every inch the master of the house. The Italian handwoven rug I’d personally selected had been replaced with a tacky gold-patterned one. The art pieces I’d collected from around the world were all gone. The walls were covered with posters from Jonathan’s solo piano recitals. The air reeked of overpowering cologne that made me nauseous. Jonathan followed behind me, watching my face grow darker and darker, still making excuses. “Mr. Marcus, Alice only did this temporarily to help me entertain some friends from the music world. She said it would suit my status better…” His words became more and more jumbled, his voice quieter and quieter—only adding fuel to the fire. Just then, a four or five-year-old boy rushed down from upstairs. He threw his arms around Jonathan’s legs and held up a doll that had been torn to shreds, as if presenting a prize. “Daddy! Look! I ripped apart that ugly doll! She can’t play with it anymore!” My gaze froze instantly. That doll was a one-of-a-kind custom piece. It was a birthday gift my father—the decorated general—had sewn by hand for my daughter Lena. In an instant, all the pieces fell into place. Alice hadn’t just cheated. She’d conspired with this man to take over my home and abuse my daughter! I stared at the father and son, my voice colder than it had ever been. “Where is my daughter Lena?” Jonathan’s expression turned instantly terrified. But the boy remained oblivious, pointing at me arrogantly and shouting: “Who are you, you crazy person! Get out of my house! You mean that little mute? She wouldn’t behave, so Mom locked her up to think about what she did!” Before he could finish, Jonathan frantically covered his mouth. My brain went “boom”—completely blank. Then came towering rage and terror. I searched frantically, every room, every corner. I left nothing unchecked. But there was no sign of Lena anywhere. Jonathan followed behind me, trying desperately to stop me. His noise was driving me crazy. I shoved him to the ground. I’d searched the entire villa. Only the tightly shut basement door remained. A terrible thought exploded in my mind. I understood instantly and raised my foot to kick the door down. Just then, Jonathan found strength from somewhere and threw himself forward, blocking the door with his body. “You can’t go in!” Burning with rage, I raised my foot to kick him, roaring: “Move! Or I’ll cripple you too!” “Stop it!” A voice I knew all too well came from behind me. Alice. Before I could react, she charged forward and kicked me in the stomach with her high heel. The sharp pain sent me crashing to the floor. She didn’t even glance at me, instead helping Jonathan up tenderly into her arms. “Jonathan, are you okay? I got a call saying some madman broke into our house. Did he hurt you?”

Jonathan leaned against her, saying nothing, just looking utterly wronged. Alice looked at him, her heart breaking with concern, and softened her voice to comfort him. “Don’t be scared, I’m here now. Anyone who dares break into my house and hurt my husband must have a death wish…” As she spoke, she glared viciously at me. But her harsh words got stuck halfway through. A crowd of diplomatic residence family members had gathered at the door, pointing and whispering about me. “Alice, this man forced his way in and claimed to be your husband!” “Yeah, acting completely crazy, even pushed Mr. Jonathan down. Terrifying!” Panic flashed through Alice’s eyes. She instinctively avoided my gaze. I braced myself against the floor and stood up, staring hard at her. “Alice, where is my daughter?” Cold sweat slid down her temple. Jonathan keenly picked up on her emotion and immediately cried out. “Alice, my hand hurts so much! This lunatic burst in and attacked me, tried to kick me. Look at him—if you hadn’t come back in time, he might have actually killed me…” As he spoke, he secretly pinched his own arm, then pulled up his sleeve to reveal red marks. His son immediately played along, crying loudly. “Mommy, I’m so scared! This crazy man wanted to kill Daddy! I don’t want to be a child without a father!” Alice had been hesitating. But seeing her beloved man and son in tears, she made up her mind instantly and turned on me viciously. “Marcus! Apologize to Jonathan right now! I know you’re bitter, but you can’t resort to violence!” I almost laughed at her words. How could a person be this shameless? “Are you blind? Or did a dog eat your conscience? You believe whatever he says?” “Alice, have you forgotten? We’re not divorced yet. I’M your legal husband! Do I need to pull out our marriage certificate and show everyone!” The moment I finished speaking, Alice’s face changed dramatically. She cut me off frantically. “What nonsense are you spouting! My husband has always been Jonathan, and only Jonathan! Marcus, I know you’ve had it hard living alone. I’ve shown you plenty of kindness, but you can’t develop inappropriate fantasies about me because of that, or even show up at my house to cause trouble! I’ve seen plenty of men like you who’ll do anything to climb the social ladder! Get out of here right now!” Climb the social ladder? I could barely believe my ears. Was she talking about me? If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t even be sitting in that diplomatic position! I still remember the first time she was assigned overseas. She grabbed me excitedly at the airport, spinning in circles, whispering in my ear over and over: “Marcus, you’re my lucky charm! Marrying you is the greatest blessing of my life! I, Alice, swear to heaven I’ll never betray you!” Her vows from back then still echoed in my ears, but the face before me had become completely unrecognizable. Rage surged through me. I lost control and lunged at her, ready to tear apart that hypocritical face. But she had some strength after all, and I’d just endured a long journey. Caught off guard, she actually pushed me to the ground. My head slammed hard against the marble floor. Everything spun. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Suddenly, someone started pounding on the basement door. A weak cry came from inside. “Daddy… is that you? I’m so hungry…” My heart sank sharply. It was Lena! My Lena! The surrounding neighbors erupted in discussion. “What’s going on? Why is someone locked in the basement?” “That sounds like a little girl… Doesn’t Alice’s family only have a son?” “Now that I think about it, I remember seeing Alice with a little girl before. She was really pretty, but I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Alice and Jonathan’s faces turned deathly pale in an instant. Under the questioning and scrutinizing gazes of everyone around them, they had no choice but to steel themselves and open the basement door. The door had barely cracked open when an impossibly thin figure stumbled out and threw herself into my arms. “Daddy! You finally came back! They all said… said Daddy didn’t want Lena anymore…” I held my daughter tight, tears streaming down uncontrollably. My Lena—how had she become this thin in just a few short months? She wore dirty, ragged old clothes. Her bare arms were covered in bruises, blue and purple. The neighbors stood stunned, exchanging looks. “Oh my God! Isn’t this Alice’s daughter? Why is she calling this man Daddy?” “And she was locked in the basement, so thin… This is abuse! Horrifying!” The three of them stood frozen, at a loss. Jonathan was the first to react. He rushed over, trying to pull Lena from my arms. “Lena, sweetie, don’t call people Daddy randomly. Are you confused? Come to Daddy.” Lena struggled desperately. “You’re not my daddy! You’re a bad man! You stole my mommy and locked me up! Your son tore up the doll Grandpa gave me!” Seeing Lena cling stubbornly to me and completely ignore him, Jonathan’s face cycled between red and white with anger and anxiety. But he still had to maintain his gentle, kind image in front of everyone. Watching the situation spiral out of control, Alice steeled her heart. “Enough! Everyone stop!” She took a deep breath, her face showing tragic, helpless pain. “Everyone, family scandals shouldn’t be aired publicly, but now I have no choice but to speak. This child is actually the orphan left behind by my distant cousin who died in combat. She witnessed her mother being abused as a child and suffered severe psychological trauma. She has serious delusions and violent tendencies. When she has episodes, she randomly calls people family and self-harms or attacks others!” “My husband Jonathan is kindhearted. He couldn’t bear to see her sent to an orphanage, so he brought her home to care for her. We had no choice—we only isolate her temporarily in the basement when she has episodes, to prevent her from hurting herself and others!” She spoke with such sincerity, with tears in her eyes. The surrounding neighbors immediately showed understanding and sympathy. “Oh, I see! I was wondering—Alice and Mr. Jonathan are such good people, how could they possibly abuse a child!” “Exactly! And this lunatic came to cause trouble. What ingratitude!” “Alice, call the police quickly! Send these two where they belong. It’s too dangerous to keep them here!” Jonathan seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. He pulled Alice into his arms, looking worried as he said: “That’s right, Alice, contact the psychiatric hospital quickly! Send this lunatic to intensive care so he can’t escape and hurt people again!” His son jumped out too, pointing at Lena in my arms and shrieking: “And her! Throw her back to the orphanage! I never want to see her again!” A flash of viciousness crossed Alice’s eyes. She immediately nodded in agreement. My teeth nearly shattered from grinding them so hard. I’d thought she’d only cheated and changed her heart. I never imagined she could be this vicious. She wanted to completely destroy both me and my daughter! Lena was so frightened she sobbed hysterically. She broke free from my arms and threw herself at Alice’s legs. “Mommy, what are you saying? I’m Lena! I’m your daughter! Please, don’t send me and Daddy away!” But the woman who once rushed to the hospital over the smallest scratch on her daughter now kicked Lena away with disgust. “Don’t touch me! Letting you freeload in my house this long was already more than generous!” She then picked up her radio and gave a cold order to the residence security captain: “Come to my house immediately! There’s a mental patient and a little girl here. Send them to the psychiatric hospital!” Within moments, several fully armed security personnel burst in and surrounded us. “Really shameless, taking advantage of Alice’s kindness and then biting the hand that feeds!” “Exactly, they deserve to be sent to a mental hospital!” Lena was terrified by this scene and burst into tears, kneeling on the ground begging Alice. I gritted my teeth and held my daughter protectively, looking coldly at these ugly faces. The lead security captain was about to step forward when he suddenly froze. He stared hard at my face, his eyes full of shock and disbelief. I met his hesitant gaze and looked at the other security personnel. “What are you all standing around for? Arrest this diplomat scum who abused her power, cheated during marriage, abused her own child, and attempted illegal detention!”

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My genius boyfriend framed me for plagiarism, and the shock killed my grandmother. Five years later, mentally unstable, I delivered takeout to his charity gala livestream. He threw a stack of cash at me in front of everyone. “Take it and get lost. Don’t dirty my floor.” As I bent down to pick up the money, I plunged a knife into his stomach. The police pinned me to the ground. I smiled and pulled out my psychiatric evaluation. “He personally certified I’m insane. And if insane people kill, it’s not a crime, is it?” “Oh, and I have evidence that he plagiarized my painting.” Kara’s POV I was scrolling through my phone during a work break when I stumbled across a livestream. The trending headline was explosive. “Genius Artist Damien Hayes Donates Millions to Establish Scholarship Fund.” That cold, aristocratic face made me pause mid-scroll. On camera, Damien wore a pristine white designer suit, refined and elegant. Beside him, Professor Linda Lynn stood with obvious pride, speaking into the microphone. “Five years ago, I taught a very talented student. Unfortunately, she had a rotten heart-plagiarized and tried to take shortcuts.” “Thankfully, Damien was upright enough to report her.” “Today’s young people really should learn from Damien. Character matters more than talent.” The comment section overflowed with praise. They praised Damien as a man of true character. They praised Linda for spotting genius when it mattered. Some even dug up that old trending topic, the one about the plagiarizing woman. They asked if she’d died of shame yet. I closed my phone, expressionless. Actually, I was that woman who deserved to die. Later, Damien and I lost all contact. I was expelled from the Academy of Fine Arts, saddled with massive breach-of-contract penalties, and my grandmother, the only family I had, died from the shock. Only recently, by taking medication, could I barely function like a normal person. Whether Damien hates me, I don’t know. But my former pride and talent rotted in the mud long ago, along with that psychiatric diagnosis. “Kara! Is that rush order ready yet?” My boss’s booming voice interrupted my thoughts. “The one for 9 Harbor Road. It’s a charity gala for some big-shot artist. If you’re late, I’m docking half your month’s pay!” I froze for a moment, then looked down at the address on the order. 9 Harbor Road. Exactly where Damien was livestreaming. I said nothing. I wiped my still-bleeding finger on my apron. Then I fished two pills from my bag and dry-swallowed them. The bitter taste exploded in my throat. I picked up the flower basket and pushed through the door into the rain. What a coincidence. I wanted to see for myself how my old acquaintance-who climbed to success by stepping on me-was doing now. The back entrance at 9 Harbor Road was closed. The security guard, disgusted by my rain-soaked appearance, told me to go around to the side hall. The moment I stepped into the main hall, I ran straight into Damien and Linda, surrounded by a crowd. Damien held a champagne flute, chatting with several collectors. Five years apart. He’d definitely changed. The gloomy, struggling kid who once couldn’t afford paint was gone. Now, every inch of him screamed fame and fortune. I pulled my cap lower, wanting only to drop off the basket and leave quickly. But Linda had sharp eyes. Her mocking laugh stabbed through the air like a needle. “Oh my, if it isn’t Kara!” “Everyone, look! This is the cautionary tale I just mentioned.” “She was so arrogant back then, aiming for the gold prize. Now she’s delivering flowers? Proof that trash will always be trash.” The room fell silent instantly. A dozen gazes hit me like spotlights. I stood there soaked through, clutching a mud-stained basket, on the gilded carpet-like a clown who’d wandered in by mistake. Damien finally turned to look at me. His gaze was indifferent, like looking at a stray dog drenched in the rain. Only condescending charity. “Don’t bother with people like her. Today’s supposed to be a happy occasion.” Damien spoke coolly, maintaining his dignity. He walked over to me and pulled a stack of bills from his suit pocket. Judging by the thickness, probably a few thousand dollars. He tossed it casually. “Take the money and leave.” “My foundation only supports students with clean records. You don’t qualify.” “This money is from me personally. Don’t show up at places like this and embarrass yourself anymore.” I stared at that pile of money, my nails digging into my palms. Five years ago, to help me cover the plagiarism penalty, my grandmother knelt in the rain begging relatives for loans. She couldn’t borrow even this much. In the end, she worked herself to death picking up scrap metal at construction sites. Now, to him, this money was just spare change to dismiss a beggar. I didn’t move. Linda kept talking beside him. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and thank Mr. Hayes! Only Damien is kind-hearted enough-anyone else would’ve had security throw you out long ago.” “Then again, you had the nerve to steal Damien’s painting back then. Taking this bit of money is nothing.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the bloody taste rising in my throat. If this had been six months ago, before the medication, I would’ve already smashed the flower basket in his face. But not now. Going crazy was useless. I needed to make them taste what it felt like to fall from the clouds into the mud. I bent down and bowed, my voice as calm as stagnant water. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Hayes.” Damien seemed satisfied with my submission and turned away without another glance. I picked up the basket mixed with cash and turned to leave. The instant I turned, I touched the voice recorder in my pocket.

Kara’s POV The moment I left the banquet hall, my boss’s call came through. “The client complained there are mud spots on the flowers! Kara, do you even know how to do your job?” “Get back there and fix it right now, or I’m docking your attendance bonus!” I had no choice but to turn back. This time I didn’t dare use the main entrance. I hid in a corner of the prep kitchen. From there, I had a direct view of the banquet hall’s elaborate dessert table. Damien must have been tired from networking. He walked to the dessert table, rubbing his temples. He had severe hypoglycemia. Back when he painted for long hours, his hands would shake. He casually picked up a piece of matcha cake, took a bite, and immediately frowned, spitting it into a napkin. “What is this? Too sweet.” The nearby server trembled in fear. “Mr. Hayes, this was specially prepared for you by a three-star Michelin chef…” Linda walked over, smiling as she handed him a cup of pour-over coffee. “Who spoiled your palate this badly? So picky.” Damien took a sip of the coffee, frowned even harder, and set the cup aside. “Too sour. Not that taste.” I hid in the shadows, staring hard at the cake he’d rejected. Five years ago, on another rainy day just like this. It was the night before his entry into the National Youth Art Exhibition. To help him stay in top shape, I spent money from my part-time jobs on the best matcha powder and low-sugar substitutes. I stayed up all night baking him this cake. Afraid it might upset his stomach, I also hand-brewed a pot of his favorite Mandheling coffee. I rushed to the studio with the insulated container, thrilled to offer it to him. “Damien, eat something before you keep painting.” I didn’t expect Linda to be there too. She glanced at my lunch box and covered her nose in disgust. “Kara, you waste all your time doing housemaid work. No wonder your painting skills haven’t improved at all.” “This street vendor stuff isn’t sanitary. What if Damien gets food poisoning and can’t compete tomorrow? Will you take responsibility?” I hurriedly explained. “I made it myself. It’s very clean…” “Enough.” Damien cut me off, impatience thick in his voice. He didn’t even glance at the cake. Right in front of me, he threw the whole container-lid and all-into the trash bin in the corner. Thud. That was the couple’s insulated container we’d saved up for a whole month to buy. “She’s right.” “Kara, can you stop bothering me with this cheap self-satisfaction?” “What I need right now is inspiration, not your junk food.” That night, I picked up the cracked container and walked alone in the rain for a long time. Turns out the devotion I poured my heart into was nothing but cheap garbage in his eyes. My thoughts snapped back to reality. Linda’s voice rang out again, tinged with probing. “Damien, that Kara woman just now… she didn’t cause you any trouble, did she?” “I told you back then we should’ve sent her to prison. Would’ve saved us from dealing with her buzzing around like a fly.” Damien wiped his hands, his tone as cold as if discussing a stranger. “Just a washed-up nobody. She can’t stir up any waves.” “Focus on getting the copyright for the new Starlight Series project signed as soon as possible.” My hand gripping the cleaning rag trembled violently. The Starlight Series-that was his breakout work. It was also the name of my graduation project that I was accused of plagiarizing five years ago.

Kara’s POV Bold composition, colors both oppressive and full of hope. That painting won him the gold prize that year and launched him as a genius. But no one knew that the hands in the painting were modeled after mine. That ray of light-I once thought it was him. Five years ago in the studio, I excitedly showed Damien the initial draft. “Damien, I want to use this for my thesis project! Linda always says I’m too academic, but I’m confident about this piece.” Damien stared at the painting for a long time, his expression unreadable. “The composition’s okay. The colors are too tacky though.” He casually tossed the painting aside and continued mixing his paints. “Entering a competition with this level of work would just be embarrassing. Don’t waste your effort.” I listened obediently. If he said it wasn’t good, then I’d revise it. I buried that initial draft at the bottom of my portfolio and started conceptualizing something new. To avoid disturbing his creative process, I even moved to the old campus study room. A month later, Damien’s competition entry was announced. The whole school was in an uproar. The composition and lighting were identical to the draft he’d rejected. I rushed to the studio like a madwoman to confront him. Damien was in the middle of a media interview. When I interrupted, he showed no panic-only calm composure. “Kara, stop making a scene.” “We’re a couple. What’s wrong with you letting me use your inspiration?” “Besides, with your brushwork, you could never paint this kind of depth. In my hands, this is art. In yours, it would just be waste paper.” I trembled with rage, reaching out to grab the painting. Linda blocked Damien, slapping me across the face. “Kara! You’re incompetent, and now you want to destroy Damien too?” “Damien conceived this composition six months ago. I have the sketches to prove it. Meanwhile, you’ve been copying Damien’s style all along, trying to ride on his fame. And now you’re trying to turn the tables?” I covered my face, staring at Damien in disbelief. I thought he would explain. Feel guilty. But he only straightened the collar I’d rumpled, his eyes cold. “Kara, learn to be content.” “Don’t force me to go all the way.” I don’t know how I left the studio that day. I only know that from that day forward, I became the school’s public enemy. Everyone said I was jealous of my boyfriend’s talent-a plagiarizing freak desperate for fame. A commotion outside the prep kitchen interrupted my memories. “Mr. Hayes, are you really auctioning off the original of this painting?” The host’s excited voice carried over. “Of course.” Damien stood under the spotlight, his voice as gentle as reciting poetry. “This painting holds extraordinary meaning for me. It documents my most difficult period and represents my deepest contemplation of human nature.” “Auctioning it today is to help more children who, like I once was, are struggling in darkness.” Applause erupted below. “Now that’s a true artist!” I stood in the shadows, watching that radiant man on stage. Nausea churned violently in my stomach. Human nature? Contemplation? As if he deserved to speak those words. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and opened a long-unused cloud album. Inside was a photograph. Dated five years ago. In the photo, on a worn sheet of drawing paper, both our names were signed. Except mine had been viciously crossed out with black marker by him. Damien Hayes. Did you really think you were the only one who kept a draft?

Kara’s POV The graduation design exhibition five years ago was a trap Linda set for me. I thought if I just produced a more perfect new work, I could prove I wasn’t a waste who only knew how to imitate Damien. I locked myself away for an entire month without leaving. I wanted to paint something. Something with colors that belonged to me-vibrant and burning, completely different from Damien’s gloomy style. The day before submission, I locked the painting in the studio cabinet and only told Damien the code. Because that day was his birthday. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to tell him: even without your guidance, I can create good work. But when I arrived at the studio the next day, the cabinet door stood wide open. My painting had been slashed to pieces, the canvas drenched in black paint. And beside that pile of wreckage lay a neat stack of printed comparison images. They were Professor Bennett’s unpublished sketches. Nearly identical to my painting. “Kara, what do you have to say for yourself?” Linda burst in with school administrators and sponsors, throwing the comparison images in my face. “I knew something was off when you suddenly improved! Turns out you plagiarized Professor Bennett’s discarded sketches!” “Do you even know who Bennett is? He’s our academy’s visiting professor! You’re bringing shame to the entire institution!” I knelt on the floor, trying to piece together the fragments, shaking my head through tears. “I didn’t… I painted this myself… I don’t even know who Bennett is…” “Still lying?” Linda sneered, turning to look at Damien standing at the back of the crowd. “Damien, you’re her boyfriend and the only person who knew about this studio. What’s really going on with this painting?” Every gaze focused on Damien. He was my last lifeline. If he would just say one sentence-say he’d watched me revise the sketches through countless all-nighters, say I’d had no chance to access outside materials during that time… Damien avoided my eyes. He lowered his gaze, his voice soft but devastating. “I’m sorry, Linda.” “A few days ago… I did see her browsing Professor Bennett’s encrypted website.” “I warned her not to take shortcuts, but she wouldn’t listen.” “She said as long as she won the gold prize, copying a little wouldn’t be noticed.” Boom. The last thread in my mind snapped. I lunged at him like a lunatic, grabbing his collar with a death grip. “Damien, what are you saying! You’re the only one who knew the code! You destroyed my painting, didn’t you?” “Why are you lying! Why are you framing me!” Damien let me tear at him, his face full of pain and disappointment. “Kara, even now you won’t admit your mistake?” “When you do something wrong, you need to own it. Don’t make me lose all respect for you.” Security rushed up and pinned me to the ground. Linda immediately announced my expulsion and had me blacklisted across the industry. The sponsors demanded three hundred thousand dollars in damages, claiming my actions had ruined their reputation. The rain was heavy that day. I was thrown out of the school gates like garbage. Damien held a black umbrella, sheltering Linda as they got into a luxury car. He never looked back once. In the back prep kitchen, I bit down hard on my hand, trying not to cry out loud. Some scars, no matter how much time passes, still bleed fresh when torn open. “Why hasn’t that flower delivery person left yet?” Linda’s voice suddenly sounded behind me. I froze. Before I could hide, she’d cornered me. She looked at my reddened eyes, a playful smile crossing her face. “Well, well. Hiding here crying?” “Seeing Damien’s success now, are you regretting not holding onto him tight enough back then?” “What a shame. Some things, once they’re dirty, can never be washed clean.”

Kara’s POV The expensive perfume Linda wore made me nauseous. She pressed closer step by step, her heels clicking crisply on the tile. “Kara, do you know why Damien wouldn’t let you through the main entrance?” “Because he thinks you’re bad luck.” “If he hadn’t needed to cut you loose back then, he wouldn’t have had to be so ruthless.” My head snapped up. “Admitting it?” My voice came out hoarse. “The plagiarism accusation back then-you two set me up.” Linda laughed, shoulders shaking with mirth. She leaned close to my ear, using a volume only we could hear. “So what if we did?” “Someone like Damien-a genius-was destined to stand at the pinnacle. And you? All you did was drag him down with your handmade cakes and cheap paints.” “What he needed was fame, resources, a professor like me who could give him a real boost.” “Sacrificing one piece of trash to create a genius? What a profitable trade.” She stepped back, her gaze sweeping contemptuously over my flower-mud-stained apron. “I heard your grandmother died pretty miserably?” “Went to a construction site in a storm to collect scrap metal. Trying to pay off your debt. In the end, she had a heart attack. Her face was so soaked by the rain it practically rotted…” The thread in my mind labeled “reason” snapped completely. That was my breaking point. No one could touch it. “Shut up!” I screamed, no longer caring about consequences, grabbing a nearby tray to hurl at her. Linda was prepared. She dodged. The tray crashed against the wall. The wine glasses on it shattered across the floor. The massive sound alerted security outside. “Murder! A crazy woman’s attacking someone!” Linda immediately switched to a victim’s expression, screaming as she ran outside. Several security guards rushed in and pinned me to the ground without question. Glass shards pierced my knees. The pain was excruciating. Damien came running at the sound. He saw the mess everywhere and Linda trembling behind him. His brow furrowed into deep lines. “Kara, what are you going crazy about now?” I lay on the ground, struggling to lift my head to look at him. “Damien, Linda just admitted it.” “The plagiarism accusation was you two framing me! You destroyed me for your career! You killed my grandmother!” Something flickered in Damien’s eyes. But he quickly recovered that lofty, cold indifference. “What are you babbling about?” “Linda kindly let you in to escape the rain. Not only are you ungrateful, you tried to assault her?” “Looks like you haven’t improved at all in five years. Still the same liar with no emotional control.” He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly. “Call the police.” “Someone with violent tendencies like this doesn’t belong in society.” In that moment, watching his cold profile, I suddenly stopped hating. Because you don’t need to hate the dead. Five years ago, that stormy night. Before my grandmother took her last breath, I called Damien one hundred times. Every single call was rejected. Later I learned that he’d been at Linda’s villa that night, throwing a party to celebrate obtaining a full scholarship to study in France. My grandmother lay in the cold morgue for three days. He was drunk on champagne and wine for three days. I stopped struggling. I let the security guards press my face into the carpet stained with wine. Through my disheveled hair, I stared fixedly at Damien’s spotless leather shoes.

Kara’s POV The police hadn’t arrived yet. The livestream continued. Because of the earlier crash, guests and media from the front hall all crowded over. Countless cameras focused on this chaotic scene in the prep kitchen. “What’s going on? Why is that delivery person attacking someone?” “Seems like she has mental issues. Professor Lynn was just being nice talking to her, then she suddenly went crazy.” “Terrifying. How did someone like that get in here?” Linda still hid behind Damien, clutching her chest, tears flowing on command. “Dear media friends, I’m so sorry for frightening everyone.” “This girl… was actually a former student of mine. She’s harbored resentment over Damien’s success.” “I wanted to give her a chance to reform, but I never expected she would…” She trailed off strategically, performing the role of betrayed mentor flawlessly. I lay pinned to the ground, listening to the accusations around me. They cursed me for being ungrateful. Cursed me for being psychologically twisted. Some even recognized me, saying I was the plagiarist from years ago-deserved to stay at the bottom forever. Damien stood under the spotlight, straightening his jacket, offering the camera a helpless yet magnanimous bitter smile. “Everyone has the right to choose their own path.” “Kara chose degradation. That pains me too.” “But I hope everyone won’t judge her too harshly. After all… some people’s psychological resilience is rather fragile.” Those words sealed my fate as psychologically fragile and willingly degraded. The security guards probably thought I was too dirty, ruining the shot. They wanted to drag me out. “Wait.” I suddenly spoke. My voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet scene it rang especially clear. I struggled to lift my head, looking toward the dessert table in the distance. There sat the painting Damien had just planned to auction. The struggling hands on the canvas looked especially desperate under the spotlights. “Damien.” I stared at that painting, my lips curling into a strange smile. “You just said this painting represents your deepest contemplation of human nature?” “Then do you dare tell everyone what exactly is mixed into the red paint in this painting?” Damien’s expression changed slightly. “What do you mean?” “Five years ago, to buy you that discontinued tube of Venetian red, I went to black market medical trials.” “The drug made blood vessels brittle. The slightest touch would cause bleeding.” “When I brought you the paint that day, blood from my hand dripped into the tube.” “You thought it was disgusting. Called me bad luck. Wanted to throw it away.” “Then you discovered that the blood-mixed red had a special muted luster. To achieve a suffocating effect, you forced me to keep adding blood to it.” The entire venue fell deathly silent. Everyone stared in horror at that painting. At that shocking red. Damien’s expression stiffened momentarily, but he quickly composed himself. “Kara, is this lunatic rambling supposed to mean something?” “Making up disgusting stories for attention only makes you look more pathetic.” “Making it up?” My smile widened. “The lower right corner of that painting-the part you covered with thick paint.” “If you dare scrape away that layer of paint.” “Underneath, doesn’t it say ‘Never Betray’?” That was our only vow back then. Damien’s pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively shifted, blocking the lower right corner of the painting. That subtle movement was captured by countless cameras. Linda saw things spiraling and screamed at security. “Cover her mouth! She’s talking nonsense! She’s trying to ruin today’s charity auction!” “How can you believe a mental patient’s words? Take her away now!” Security tightened their grip. My face was twisted against the floor. I couldn’t speak. But I saw it. Saw the flash of panic in Damien’s eyes. I smiled. Damien, you don’t know, do you? I have other ways to destroy you.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “370472”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #重生Reborn

Damian Blackwood, the notorious mafia lord, threw himself over me, using his body to shield me from the explosion. He lay in the rubble, drenched in blood, yet he smiled. “Kira, don’t cry. Trading twelve broken ribs so you’ll remember me for the rest of your life? That’s a bargain.” After returning home, I developed severe PTSD, waking from nightmares every night. He left the underworld behind, washed away the bloodstains, and became the gentlest version of himself. After our wedding, he tattooed my name over the scar on his chest, promising to love me forever. Until that night, when I woke from another nightmare to find him missing from our bedroom. Through the study door, I saw him slip his hands beneath a girl’s skirt, his voice hoarse as he coaxed her. “Baby, relax.” The man I’d worshipped like a god was having sex with someone else when I needed him most. I raised my gun with a smile, aiming it at my own heart. “Damian Blackwood. Divorce or widowhood. Pick one.” The sounds inside the room stopped abruptly. Damian’s movements froze. He turned slowly. The desire in his eyes hadn’t faded yet, but when he saw the gun pressed against my chest, his gaze instantly turned to ice. The girl emerged from his embrace, her face pure and innocent, eyes timid like a frightened deer. Damian casually positioned himself to shield her, smoothing down her skirt. He stood and walked toward me step by step, his voice gentle as always. “Kira, stop this. Put the gun down.” I laughed. Stop this? My finger moved to the trigger. “I’m giving you three seconds.” His brow furrowed, cracks finally appearing in that gentle facade. “Kira, you know I don’t like having guns pointed at me.” “And you know I like it even less when someone points a gun at you.” The girl called Violet suddenly burst into tears, rushing out from behind him to kneel before me. “Kira, don’t blame Damian. This is all my fault. I seduced him. Kill me if you want, but don’t hurt him.” She cried beautifully, pitifully. Damian’s expression darkened completely. He lunged forward, his wrist twisting with practiced precision to disarm me. We’d drilled this move countless times on the edge of life and death. Only this time, I was his target. The gun fell silently onto the carpet. He gripped my wrist, his fingers pressing hard enough to crush bone. “She’s just an innocent girl, not like us. Don’t scare her.” I looked at him. The tenderness and reproach in his eyes weren’t for me. I raised my other hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Damian Blackwood, I’ll make this easy for you.” I turned to leave. He pulled me into his arms from behind, his burning chest pressed against my back, panic in his voice. “Kira, don’t go. I’ll make her disappear. You’ll never see her again.” I didn’t turn around. My voice was calm. “Don’t bother.” The moment I finished speaking, I jerked my elbow back, slamming it into the old wound on his chest with all my strength. He grunted and released me. I didn’t pause for a second. I walked straight to the study and retrieved the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago. I’d drafted them after my first episode following our marriage. But he’d said then that divorce would only happen over his dead body. I never imagined these papers would come in handy at such an absurd moment. By the time I returned to the living room, Violet was gone. Damian sat on the sofa, half his face hidden in shadow, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. When he saw me, he looked up. Those eyes that had once shielded me from the world’s storms were now filled with exhaustion. “I won’t sign. Kira, there’s no divorce between us.” I threw the papers in his face. “Then widowhood it is.”

Damian placed me under house arrest. He confiscated all my communication devices and weapons. The villa’s security system was upgraded to maximum level. The bodyguards who’d once sworn to protect me with their lives now became my jailers. Damian came home every day, acting as if nothing had happened, preparing my meals and coaxing me to take my medication. He sat by the bed, using those hands that had once dealt death, clumsily peeling an apple for me. “Kira, the doctor says you need rest. When you’re better, I’ll take you to see the ocean.” The ocean again. He’d once promised that when we finally escaped that blood-soaked world, he’d take me to see the cleanest ocean in the world. Now he was clean, with someone new by his side. I knocked the apple from his hand. “Damian Blackwood, stop making me sick.” He didn’t get angry. He simply crouched down to pick up the pieces, one by one. “If you don’t want apples, how about some soup? I simmered it for hours.” I watched his humble posture and suddenly found it laughable. The feared crime lord was now kneeling before me, just to get me to drink some soup. How pathetic. “Get out.” His body stiffened. Eventually, he left in silence, carrying the bowl of soup. The door locked from the outside. I lay in bed, listening to the familiar gunfire from my nightmares, sleepless all night. The next day, an unfamiliar maid brought lunch. Under the plate was a photograph. Of Violet. She wore a white dress, standing in sunlight, smiling innocently. Around her neck was a necklace, the one Damian had bought me with his first legitimate paycheck for my eighteenth birthday. I’d lost it during a mission. I’d searched for so long. So it had been with him all along. The back of the photo bore a line of delicate handwriting: “Kira, Damian says only someone as pure as me deserves this necklace. He says you’re too dirty. The smell of you makes him sick.” My hands trembled uncontrollably. Dirty. Yes, how could I not be dirty? To pull him from a pile of corpses, I’d stayed awake for three days and nights, personally stitching seventeen wounds on his body. To avenge him, I’d stormed the enemy’s stronghold alone and killed thirty-seven people. When I returned to him covered in blood, he’d held me and kissed every scar on my body. He’d said, “My Kira is the purest girl in this world.” Now he found me dirty. I gripped the photo and laughed. That evening, when Damian came home, I was waiting for him in the living room. The table was set with an elegant candlelit dinner-wine, steak, and his favorite black swan cake. He froze, then joy flickered in his eyes. “Kira, you…” I raised my glass to him, smiling. “Damian , congratulations.” “Congratulations for what?” “For finally finding the girl of your dreams.” The smile froze on his face. I stood and walked over, slapping the photograph against his chest. “But there’s something I need to remind you about.” I leaned close to his ear, speaking in a voice only we could hear. “I have a problem. Things I’ve used, even if I don’t want them anymore, even if I throw them away, I can’t stand anyone else touching them. Anyone who touches them loses their hands.”

Damian’s breathing became ragged. He stared at me intently. “What did you do to her?” “Nothing much.” I stepped back, savoring his mixture of shock and fury. “Just had someone deliver a little gift. I wonder if she liked it.” He grabbed my wrist violently, his voice low and rough. “Kira! I’m warning you-if you lay one finger on her, you’ll regret it!” “Oh? Regret it?” I lifted my foot and kicked hard at his shin. He winced but refused to let go. “You know how important she is to me!” Important? I looked into his bloodshot eyes, my smile growing brighter. “How important? More important than your life?” Five years ago, in the border rainforest, three hundred men had surrounded us. To protect me, he’d drawn the enemy away alone. He’d taken three bullets-one just a centimeter from his heart. When I found him, he’d stopped breathing. I’d knelt in the mud, crying as I performed CPR, begging him not to leave me. When he woke, his first words were: “Kira, don’t be afraid. I won’t die. My life is yours. Death can’t take me without your permission.” Now he was looking at me this way for another woman. My heart ached so badly I could barely breathe. “Damian Blackwood, have you forgotten? Your life belongs to me.” His body shook. The madness in his eyes faded somewhat, replaced by endless pain. “Kira, don’t push me.” “Push you to what? To kill me and pay for your lover’s life?” I shook off his hand and pulled a steak knife from behind me, pressing it against his heart. “Or should I kill you first?” The blade pierced his shirt, drawing tiny beads of blood. He looked down at the knife at his chest and suddenly laughed. That laugh was desolate and desperate. “Go ahead. Kill me.” He gripped my hand and pushed the blade deeper. “If I die by your hand, I accept it.” Blood instantly stained his white shirt red. I watched that glaring crimson, then twisted my wrist and drove the knife into the wall behind him, missing his ear by millimeters. “Want to die?” “Damian Blackwood, you haven’t finished repaying what you owe me. How could I let you die so easily?” “Watch carefully. Watch how your lover becomes even dirtier than me.” I pulled out the micro-remote I’d hidden in the cake and pressed the button. The villa’s massive screen flickered to life, showing Violet’s face. She was bound to a chair, gagged, her face wet with terrified tears. Before her stood a man in a black suit, holding a scalpel. The man grinned at the camera, showing teeth white as bone. “Mr. Blackwood, let the game begin.”

Damian’s pupils contracted sharply. He charged toward the screen but was stopped by the electric net I’d set up in advance. Current surged through his body. He let out a pained grunt and collapsed heavily to the floor. “Kira!” He struggled to lift his head, eyes bloodshot. “Let her go! Come after me!” I walked over and crouched down, looking down at him. “Come after you?” I placed my foot on the leg that had once carried him through hell for me, slowly grinding down. “Do you deserve that?” On screen, the man in black ran his scalpel slowly across Violet’s pretty face. No blood yet. But more cruel than bloodshed. With the blade’s tip, he peeled away the tissue of her face, layer by layer. Violet convulsed in agony, blood streaming down her face, her eyes full of pleading. Damian’s eyes nearly split with rage. “Stop! I said stop!” He threw himself against the electric net repeatedly, even as the current charred his body, refusing to quit. “Kira, I’m begging you. Let her go. She’s carrying… my child.” My movements stopped. My foot on his leg froze. Child. He said child. Three years ago, I’d also carried a child. Our child. Seven months along, already kicking my belly. Damian used to press his ear to my stomach every day, listening to the movements inside, grinning like a fool. He’d said that once the baby was born, he’d leave everything behind. Our family of three would go somewhere no one knew us and live the most ordinary life. But later, to save him, I’d rushed into gunfire with my swollen belly. The child was lost. A boy. When he was induced, his body was still warm. From that day on, I could never conceive again. The doctor said my body was too damaged. I’d never be a mother in this lifetime. I’d buried this secret deep in my heart, never telling him. I was afraid he’d grieve, blame himself. But now, he had a child with another woman. I looked at him, at his pleading eyes, and suddenly laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down my face. “A child? Damian, do you remember? We once had a child too.” The color drained from his face. His lips trembled, unable to form words. On screen, Violet seemed to hear our conversation. She gathered all her strength, spat out the gag, and screamed hoarsely. “Damian! Save me! Save our child! Kill this crazy bitch! She’s just jealous! Jealous that I’m carrying your child while she can’t have any!” Her words stabbed into my heart. I slowly stood and walked to the screen. Looking at Violet’s blood-streaked face, I gave her a gentle smile. “You’re right. I am jealous.” I picked up the remote and pressed another button. The man in black put away the scalpel and produced a syringe filled with clear liquid. “This is my latest formula. No side effects.” “It just makes people expel all the dirty things from their bellies. Nice and clean.” Damian’s eyes went wide, filled with bloodshot veins. “No! Kira! Don’t!” He lunged at the electric net like a madman, letting the deadly current tear through him. “I was wrong! Kira! I was really wrong!” “I’ll do anything you want! Please! Don’t touch the child! That’s my flesh and blood!” I watched him writhe in pain, and the last trace of warmth in my heart died. I picked up the walkie-talkie, my voice cold and emotionless. “Do it.”

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To save Marcus, I lost both my legs and became bedridden, paralyzed. But then I overheard his conversation with his best friends: “She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve taken care of her for four years. Four years later, I’d say that debt is paid, wouldn’t you?” “Just thinking about her legs turned into rotting flesh makes me sick. Why wasn’t it me who ended up paralyzed instead?” I trembled and hid to the side, when the system reminded me: “The four-year contract has expired. Does the host wish to renew?” “System, help me get those legs back.” “Understood. Canceling your contract now.” Today was my birthday. I sat alone, holding a cake, waiting for a long time. My husband said he’d be here soon, but there was still no sign of him. With no other choice, I struggled to wheel myself downstairs. Just as I was about to call him, I spotted his figure. I wanted to call out his name happily, but I noticed he was talking with some people. Probably work. No wonder he hadn’t come upstairs yet. I slowly moved closer and gradually made out what they were saying. It wasn’t about work. It was about… me. “Marcus, Claire can’t wait much longer.” Who was Claire? “I won’t make her wait long.” Standing across from Marcus were his two best friends, Liam and Ryan. Liam suddenly got excited. “Marcus, you’ve finally come to your senses?” Seeing Marcus nod, Liam smiled even more broadly. “Marcus, I thought you couldn’t bear to leave Sarah. All these years, you’ve climbed the ladder of success while Sarah’s still a cripple. She’s fallen miles and miles behind you.” Hearing this, I didn’t feel particularly upset. I knew his friends had always harbored disgust toward me. But these words alone weren’t enough to shake the bond between Marcus and me. Soon enough, though, I was proven wrong. “Four years. She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve taken care of her for four years. Four years later, I’d say that debt is paid, wouldn’t you?” After speaking, Marcus let out a relieved sigh. A thunderclap exploded in my mind. I looked up, unable to believe what I was seeing. “I’m glad you’ve figured it out, Marcus. I thought… you were really going to take care of her for the rest of your life. If I were you, she would’ve driven me crazy long ago.” “You have no idea—a disabled person is just disgusting and filthy. Her wheelchair gets scrubbed every day, but it still smells. I’ve been fed up with her for ages.” Even Ryan, who rarely smiled, let out a laugh. “Marcus, these past few years must’ve been rough on you. Just thinking about you two sharing a bed makes me want to puke.” The curve of Marcus’s lips was painfully glaring. “Don’t even mention it. I wish I’d been the one who got paralyzed back then. I really don’t understand why she insisted on saving me. Maybe if she hadn’t thrown herself at me, we’d both have been fine. She probably just wanted to trap me with guilt.” Actually, Marcus wasn’t entirely wrong, but he wasn’t entirely right either. Four years ago, Marcus had been looking down at his phone while crossing the street when an out-of-control truck came barreling toward him. In that split second, I screamed his name and threw myself at him. But it was too late. Marcus’s whole body was drenched in blood, his legs crushed into a pulp. He was such a proud person. I couldn’t imagine what extreme actions he might take when he woke up and saw himself like that. His business had just started turning around. He needed those legs.

I vaguely remember what I said so decisively four years ago. “System, give my legs to Marcus.” “Host, once exchanged, this cannot be reversed!” “He just gained a foothold in business. Without his legs now, he’ll lose his mind…” All along, Marcus believed my legs had been crushed by the truck. In truth, I had voluntarily given them to him. I instinctively ducked behind a building. Marcus’s voice came again. “Four years. Four whole years. Every single day has been torture for me. Now just seeing her face makes me physically ill.” “Marcus, why don’t we take you out to have some fun? Relax a little?” Marcus immediately refused. “Forget it. Today’s Sarah’s birthday. After we get through this birthday, we can call it even, right?” I couldn’t hear what they said after that. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. I don’t even remember how I got home. When Marcus ate dinner with me, he kept looking at his phone. He always said it was work, and I believed him. Only today did I realize how absurd that was. “Who’s this Claire person?” Marcus instantly looked up at me with an indescribable expression. Then his eyes filled with disgust. “What are you implying?” “I’m just asking. What, I can’t ask?” Marcus quickly adjusted his emotions and smiled at me warmly. “Honey, you’ve got it wrong. She’s just a business partner. Something’s come up right now, so I… need to go out for a bit.” “But it’s my birthday.” I tried to be patient, wanting to finish this last meal with him. But Marcus’s brow furrowed with endless irritation. “Didn’t you already blow out the candles? Be good, honey. I’ll keep you company when I get back.” He smiled and patted my head, then immediately pulled his hand back. He turned and left. I wheeled myself to the window and watched him frantically wiping his hand after he got outside. He kept dry heaving. I calmly asked, “System, can I get those legs back?” “Host, you don’t have enough points yet. A random task has been activated for you. Please proceed to Cloud Luxe Bar.” I didn’t waste any time and set off right away. But when I reached the bar entrance, I couldn’t find the courage to take that step. Not until the system prompted me did I finally wheel myself inside. The bouncer at the door looked at me strangely. I felt so embarrassed I just wanted to run away. As soon as I entered, the lively atmosphere inside didn’t make me feel too uncomfortable. I was about to move forward when someone bumped into my wheelchair. “Where’d this cripple come from? Does this bar let just anyone in? You almost hit me!” “What’s a cripple doing at a bar? Move it! You’re blocking the way!” I awkwardly apologized. Just as I was about to leave and find another spot, a pair of large hands gripped my wheelchair. It was Marcus. “What are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t questioning—it was interrogating. “It was too quiet at home, so I came out for a walk.” Liam walked up to me with a drink in hand, looking down at me arrogantly. “Sarah, not to be harsh, but even if you wanted to go for a walk, you shouldn’t come here. This isn’t a place for a cripple. Sarah, can’t you give us a break?” “Before the accident, I used to come here all the time. I just wanted to take a look.”

Liam continued pressing me. “You said it yourself—that was before, not now. You’re a useless waste now. Coming here just creates problems for other people. Look at how everyone’s staring at you.” Ryan frowned. “What’s that smell? Something stinks.” Liam kept sniffing, then leaned close to me and started fanning the air. “Why do you smell so bad? Even with all the alcohol smell in here, it can’t cover up your stench.” I thought I heard Marcus let out a quiet laugh. I looked up and our eyes met. “Marcus, you’re just going to watch them humiliate me like this?” Marcus coughed twice. “Which part of what they said was wrong? Stop embarrassing yourself. Go home. I’ll have the driver take you.” The system told me I still had to stay here for two more hours. I smiled and said resolutely, “I’m not going back, and I won’t bother you.” Liam carefully walked behind Marcus and whispered. “Marcus, Claire’s about to arrive.” Marcus suddenly frowned. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you going back or not?” “No.” Marcus suddenly smiled coldly. “You want to play? Then let’s play.” With that, he waved his hand with a cold laugh. His friends came over to my wheelchair and started doing something to it. The next second, they lifted me up. I gripped the wheelchair tightly, swallowing in fear, breaking out in a cold sweat. My clothes stuck to my back. The guys shook my wheelchair from below, hollering and yelling. Marcus sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, holding a drink and watching me make a fool of myself. I looked at the DJ booth, listening to the pounding music. Gradually, I didn’t feel so scared anymore. Watching the DJ wave at me, I smiled and raised both hands, cheering along with him. I faintly heard Liam’s voice. “Did she throw up yet? Shake harder!” Only Marcus, sitting in the booth, could see that at this moment, I was having the time of my life. I was grateful to them for giving me this brief moment of freedom. Marcus suddenly slammed his glass on the table, glaring at me with hatred. The next second, they threw me violently to the ground. The intense impact made me fall right off my wheelchair. Marcus looked at his friends with fake concern. “Why were you so careless? You made Sarah fall.” Then he looked at me with a fake smile. “Are you okay?” Marcus reached his hand toward me. I had no choice—I just wanted him to lift me back into my wheelchair. Just as I was about to take his hand, Marcus pulled it back. He covered his nose and stepped back two paces. Everyone else backed away from me too. Marcus suddenly burst out laughing. The music stopped at an inappropriate moment. “Sarah! You wet yourself again?! This is a public place!” Marcus’s voice echoed throughout the venue. Countless eyes felt like they were roasting me alive. Liam laughed loudly, his voice painfully grating. “Sarah, you really need to be more careful. It’s one thing at home, but this is in public with so many people around. Ugh!” Marcus also began to condemn me. “Sarah, I told you to leave, but you insisted on making things difficult for both of us. You’ve made me lose all my dignity!” I had no time for this. “Marcus, just help me up first.” Marcus finally spoke what was really on his mind. “Sarah, do you know how disgusting your lower body is? It’s like rotting flesh. When will you finally let me go?” I looked down with a bitter, helpless smile. “You’ve been acting for four years. Must have been exhausting.”

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I’m Alpha Bruce’s only daughter, and the only female heir among our kind. To protect me, my father trained seven warriors to guard me since I was a child. Now I’m twenty-one, but I still haven’t found my mate. So my father asked me to choose a fiancé from those seven warriors. Without hesitation, I crossed out Liam’s name, the one I once loved the most. In my last life, I was kidnapped by a pack of rogues at my engagement party. They stabbed me through the heart with daggers coated in deadly wolfsbane. With my last bit of strength, I mind-linked my fiancé, Liam. “Save me.” But all I got was his cold reply: “Nova, you’re Alpha Bruce’s daughter. A few rogues shouldn’t be a problem for you. Lily fell into the lake. I need to save her first.” The wolfsbane spread through my body. And when I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—back to the day my father asked me to choose my fiancé. The familiar list came into view, and I jolted awake. The agony of wolfsbane burning through my body hadn’t faded yet when my father’s voice rang in my ears. “Nova, I’m getting old. One day you’ll inherit my position as Alpha of the Ironwood Pack. Today, you must choose one of these seven men to be your fiancé.” That was when it hit me. I had been reborn. Looking down at the list, I crossed out Liam’s name without hesitation. My father froze. “Nova… are you sure about this?” “You’ve liked Liam since you were a child. He’s the Beta’s son and the strongest fighter among them. Why would you cross out his name?” “Wait. I’ll have someone prepare a new list.” I quickly shook my head and cut him off. “Dad, I didn’t make a mistake.” “The one I want to choose isn’t Liam. It’s Sawyer.” The image of Sawyer flashed through my mind—the grief on his face after my death, the heart-wrenching howl that followed. “But Sawyer is only an orphan. His combat ability…” “Dad, I trust him.” My father studied me for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Nova, don’t announce this yet. I’ll make it official at the engagement party in three days.” He paused. “You still have three days to change your mind.” After leaving my father’s study, I walked alone toward the lake at the edge of our pack’s territory. That was when I ran into Liam. Lily was with him. The moment she saw me, Lily shrank behind Liam as if she were frightened. Liam immediately pulled her in front of him and spoke gently. “Lily, don’t be afraid. With me here, no one will bully you.” Then he glared at me. “Nova, even if Lily is just a maid in your house, you can’t treat her like this.” I frowned in confusion. This scene was completely different from my previous life. At that moment, Lily raised her swollen, reddened hand and placed it on Liam’s arm. “Liam… please don’t blame Nova,” she said softly. “I’m only an Omega. Baking bread for her is what I’m supposed to do. Even if she wanted to cut off my hand, I wouldn’t complain.” For a moment, I froze. I had never asked Lily to bake bread for me. Only then did I realize she was playing the same trick again—pretending to be pitiful so others would sympathize with her. Before I could explain, Liam exploded. “Nova, listen carefully. Even if you choose me as your fiancé, I will never love a vicious woman like you!” Then he gently stroked Lily’s injured hand, his eyes full of concern. “Lily, you’re not lowly at all. You’re far nobler than people with rotten hearts.” As he spoke, he cast me a look of pure contempt. My chest tightened painfully. In my past life… and in this one… He had never believed me. Suddenly, a figure rushed toward me with a knife. I screamed in surprise, but my body reacted instantly. A Rogue! Drawing on years of training, I kicked the knife out of his hand and forced him to the ground. Just then, Lily screamed and collapsed. Another Rogue had slashed her leg. Liam rushed to her side immediately, shielding her in his arms. Watching him choose her again, my heart slowly turned cold. In that brief moment of distraction, the Rogue I had knocked down lunged at me again. His blade shot toward my chest. But just before it could strike, someone suddenly appeared and kicked him to the ground. I looked up and froze. It was Sawyer.

Realizing their plan had failed, the two Rogues panicked and fled. Sawyer glared at Liam, his voice exploding with anger. “Liam, have you forgotten your mission? You’re Nova’s warrior. If something had happened to her, would you have taken responsibility for it?” A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but he quickly masked it with indifference. “Nothing happened, did it?” he replied coldly. “Besides, Lily was injured because of Nova. I couldn’t just ignore her.” Sawyer’s expression darkened. He stepped forward and punched Liam square in the face. “So you just abandoned Nova’s safety?” he growled. “We all swore to Alpha Bruce that we’d protect her with our lives. Have you forgotten that oath?” Though a trace of guilt flashed across Liam’s face, he couldn’t tolerate Sawyer’s accusation—or the punch. The two of them immediately started fighting. “Stop!” I rushed forward, trying to separate them. Just then Lily cried out in pain. “Liam! It hurts!” Liam froze. He immediately turned to Lily, his expression full of concern. Carefully lifting her into his arms, he hurried away without another glance. Sawyer started after them, but I grabbed his arm. He turned back to me, his face cold, anger blazing in his eyes. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded. “After everything Liam just did to you, you still can’t bear to see him get hurt?” His eyes were actually turning red. “I didn’t—” “Enough,” he cut me off sharply. “There’s no need to explain.” “Since you chose him, then do whatever you want.” “I didn’t choose him!” The words burst out of me. Sawyer froze. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but it quickly faded. “You’ve liked him since childhood. Everyone knows that,” he said bitterly. “If you’re not choosing him, then who would you choose?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. Choose whoever you want.” Then he turned and walked away. I watched his lonely figure disappear down the path, my chest tightening with pain. If he knew the fiancé I had chosen was him… What kind of expression would he have? The thought filled me with unexpected anticipation. The next day, my father sent several attendants to deliver gowns for me to choose from for the engagement party. I had just picked up a dress when Liam walked in, supporting Lily as she limped beside him. The moment Lily saw the gowns, her eyes lit up. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly. But then her expression dimmed. “Unfortunately, I come from a poor family. I’ll probably never get to wear something this beautiful in my life.” Liam’s expression softened instantly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t say that,” he comforted her gently. “If you like it, I’ll buy it for you.” I ignored them. But Lily wasn’t done. She glanced at the dress in my hands. “That one is a limited edition, isn’t it? I saw it in a magazine before. It must be very expensive…” She lowered her head sadly. “I could never hope to have something like that.” Liam immediately walked over to me. “Since Lily likes that dress,” he said in a low voice, “give it to her.” Anger surged through me. “Why should I?” Liam frowned, as if my refusal was unreasonable. “You’re going to be engaged to me anyway,” he said arrogantly. “No matter what you wear, you’re wearing it for me to see, right?” “Besides, Lily was injured because of you. What’s wrong with giving her one dress?” “At worst, I’ll pay you for it.” I stared at him for a moment—then let out a cold laugh. “Who told you I’m getting engaged to you?”

A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. He sneered at me. “Nova, the entire pack knows you’re obsessed with me. If you’re not choosing me, then who else would you choose?” His eyes turned cold. “Stop pretending. Just give the dress to Lily.” Before I could react, he yanked the gown from my hands and shoved it into Lily’s arms. The sequins scraped across my palm, slicing the skin open. Blood immediately welled up. Liam didn’t even glance at my injured hand. Instead, he gently placed an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go try it on.” As they walked away, Lily turned her head slightly. She smiled at me. A slow, mocking smile. Her eyes were filled with naked provocation—as if silently reminding me that I had already lost. I forced a stiff smile in return. On the eve of the engagement ceremony, my father summoned the seven warriors. “You all know,” he said calmly, “that I asked Nova to choose one of you to become her fiancé. Whoever she chooses will help her lead the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Tomorrow, I will announce her decision to the entire pack.” The room fell into a strange silence. In the corner, Sawyer leaned against the wall, silently drinking. Glass after glass. He didn’t look at anyone. Liam, on the other hand, looked restless. His eyes kept drifting toward the direction of Lily’s room. The other warriors began patting him on the back. “Congratulations, Liam.” “You’ll be leading the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Take good care of Nova. Don’t disappoint Alpha Bruce.” My father glanced at me with a faint smile but said nothing. Everyone took his reaction as confirmation. In their eyes, Liam had already won. That night, Liam suddenly barged into my room. His face was dark with rage. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of bed. The next second, he slammed me onto the floor. His hand shot out and clamped around my throat. “Nova,” he growled through gritted teeth, “why can’t you just leave me alone?” His fingers tightened. It became harder and harder to breathe. “It’s because of you that Lily ran away from home!” “If anything happens to her, I swear I won’t forgive you!” I struggled against his grip. “Are you insane?” I gasped. “What does Lily running away have to do with me?” His eyes were bloodshot. “If you hadn’t forced this engagement on me, Lily wouldn’t have left!” “She said in her message that she was in agony. If she does something stupid because of this—” His grip tightened again. Rage surged through me. With all my strength, I shoved him away. “Liam, listen carefully.” “I didn’t choose you.” “And I will never stand between you and Lily.” I straightened, my voice turning ice-cold. “But if you don’t get out of my room right now, I’ll have the guards drag you out.” For a moment, he froze. Then he let out a mocking laugh. “You’d better be telling the truth.” He finally regained a trace of rationality and stormed out Early the next morning, Liam returned. With Lily. His face looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept all night. Lily, on the other hand, looked flushed and radiant. And the faint scent of sex clung to her skin. My stomach churned. Liam stopped in front of me, his gaze icy. “Nova,” he said coldly, “even if I’m forced to marry you, I will never love you.” “If you dare humiliate Lily again…” His voice dropped dangerously. “I won’t let you get away with it.” With that, he turned and walked away with Lily. They didn’t look back once. I watched their retreating figures. And suddenly, a cold laugh echoed inside my mind. I couldn’t believe that in my previous life… I had actually fallen in love with someone like him.

Before the engagement party started, I had just finished my makeup when Lily came looking for me. She looked at me with resentment, her eyes full of hatred: “Nova, why? I refuse to accept it! Why were you born with high status while I can only be a despised Omega!” “Even Liam, the one I like, has to be forced to be engaged to you because of your father’s power!” Hearing this, I sneered and looked at her disdainfully, “Lily, hasn’t my father treated you well all these years?” “My father saw your family was poor and funded your education. After your parents died, he even took you into our home to raise you.” “Although you’re nominally a maid in our house, neither my father nor I have ever made you do any dirty or tiring work. But instead of being grateful, you constantly stir up trouble!” “As for Liam, if he truly loves you, he would give up everything to be with you! Not cling to my family’s power!” My words made Lily stagger back a few steps, “No… that’s not true… Liam loves me! He said you forced him. If he doesn’t marry you, your father will kill him.” I scoffed. “What kind of person is my father? Don’t you know? He’s kind to everyone in the pack. How could he force Liam to marry me?” Lily’s expression suddenly changed, her eyes turning vicious: “You’re lying! I’ll prove Liam’s love for me!” With that, she pulled a dagger from her pocket and stabbed her own arm, then let out a piercing scream. I watched, dumbfounded. Again? How long was she going to keep playing this framing game?! If it weren’t for the fact that her father had once been a werewolf warrior who sacrificed himself for our pack, I would have expelled her from the pack long ago! Several werewolf warriors rushed in upon hearing the sound. Lily stared at me intently, her voice weak: “Nova, why are you doing this to me!” Seeing this scene, Liam immediately flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. But the next second, he was pinned to the ground by the other werewolf warriors. “Liam, are you crazy? You actually hit Nova! If Alpha Bruce sees this, you’re finished!” Lily was sent to the hospital, and Liam also regained his sanity after the others’ persuasion. The banquet began. The hall was packed with people. My father took my hand and went on stage. “Today, I’ve gathered everyone here to announce some good news. Tonight, my daughter Nova will be engaged to one of the werewolf warriors present!” “Her fiancé is…” “Wait!” Just as everyone held their breath in anticipation, Liam interrupted my father. Everyone turned their gaze to Liam. My father’s face was full of anger. But Liam remained unfazed: “Alpha Bruce, I don’t like Nova at all. Even if you punish me today, I won’t be engaged to her!” As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion arose in the hall. “What’s going on here?” “Alpha Bruce’s daughter is being rejected in public!” …… My father laughed coldly, and the air instantly filled with a chill: “My daughter’s chosen fiancé was never you, Liam, but Sawyer!” At these words, the entire hall fell silent. No one expected that the fiancé I chose was actually Sawyer!

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The night before my father’s final appeal, Elias Vance didn’t show up to deliver the key evidence as agreed. Instead, he sent someone to deliver a sexy, lace prisoner costume. He was leaning back on his sofa, casually swirling a glass of red wine when I confronted him over video call. “Wear it. Beg me,” he drawled. “Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I can get your dad’s sentence reduced by a few years.” I knew he was humiliating me. He was doing this because his childhood sweetheart had sobbed in court, claiming my father had sexually harassed her. He believed her. He wanted to get revenge for his precious first love. When Elias crushed the USB drive containing the security footage that could have proven my father’s innocence beneath his heel, I just quietly picked up the fragments. A flicker of astonishment crossed his eyes, followed by a light chuckle. “That’s right. Learn to be obedient, and your father might actually have a chance to survive.” I forced the corners of my mouth into a stiff, mocking smile. “No need.” What he didn’t know was that during those hours he was busy administering ‘justice’ for his childhood sweetheart… My father, unable to bear the humiliation, had already bitten off his own tongue and committed suicide in the detention center. The dead do not need settlements. Chapter 1 “Harper, don’t be stupid.” “Submitting a video that is so obviously forged will only get you thrown in prison too.” “I’m trying to protect you. I’ve already smoothed things over with Sophia.” “As long as your father confesses, I can pull strings to get him probation.” I didn’t fight him for the drive. I just bent down and scooped the crushed plastic fragments into my palm. The jagged edges cut deep into my skin, blood beading up, but I just stared blankly at the floor. Elias pulled a document from his briefcase and tossed it onto the coffee table. The bold words Application for Psychiatric Evaluation glared back at me. “Sign it. This is the best solution right now.” “I’ll convince the judge that your father has severe dementia, that the harassment was just a pathological response to his illness.” “Once the evaluation is out, Sophia will issue a letter of forgiveness, and this whole thing will blow over.” I dumped the sharp debris into the trash bin and pushed the application form back across the table. “No need, Elias. The dead don’t need psychiatric evaluations.” Elias frowned, his patience wearing thin. “Why are you still throwing a tantrum at a time like this?” “Do you know how many favors I called in for this evaluation?” “With your father’s stubborn temper… if I hadn’t been managing things on the inside, they would have broken his legs by now.” I looked at the expensive pen on the table. He once told me it represented justice. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out. On the screen was a notification from the county jail. [Ms. Stone, the autopsy report for the deceased, Robert Stone, is complete. Please come immediately to sign the confirmation to waive further autopsy.] Elias’s phone rang at the exact same time. He glanced at the screen, and his harsh expression instantly softened. He picked up the call, and a woman’s soft sobbing echoed through the receiver. “Sophia, don’t be scared. I’m here.” “I’ve already destroyed that so-called ‘evidence’ video. No one can throw mud at you anymore.” “Okay, I won’t hang up. I’m coming over right now to be with you. Don’t do anything stupid.” He hung up, grabbed his jacket, and walked toward the door. “Don’t leave tonight,” I said, my voice hoarse. Elias stopped in his tracks. The look he gave me over his shoulder was full of raw disgust. “Harper, do you even have a soul?” “Sophia’s depression has relapsed because your father harassed her. She almost cut her wrists just now.” “When you were screaming at her outside the courtroom, calling her shameless, why didn’t you think about where that would lead?” “Her psychological defenses have completely collapsed. If anything happens to her, your father deserves the death penalty.” He adjusted his tie, his voice cold and commanding. “Stay home and reflect on yourself tonight.” “Before the appeal hearing tomorrow morning, I want to see that signed confession.” The front door slammed shut with a deafening thud. I looked around the empty room, slowly sank to the floor, and buried my face in my knees. Elias, there’s no need to wait for tomorrow. The man who needed to confess has already closed his eyes forever. Chapter 2 Outside the window, a torrential storm was raging. Elias had taken the only car. I stood in the freezing rain for twenty minutes. The rideshare app showed a queue of over a hundred people. Rain poured down my collar, making me shiver uncontrollably. I scanned a rental city bike and began pedaling toward the detention center on the outskirts of town. Mud and rainwater splashed across my entire body. Halfway there, a speeding truck sent a tidal wave of dirty water over me. I crashed, tumbling into the flooded gutter, bike and all. My knee slammed against the asphalt. Blood seeped through my jeans and down into my sock. I crawled back up, righted the bike, and kept riding. At 2 AM, I arrived at the detention center morgue. The medical examiner on duty pulled back the white sheet, revealing my father’s face. I covered my mouth, my legs giving way as I sank to my knees on the cold floor. My father’s mouth was half-open. His tongue was severed. His prisoner uniform was soaked in dried blood. The examiner handed me a file and a pen. “The deceased committed suicide by biting off his tongue. He died of shock due to excessive blood loss. If you confirm there are no issues, sign here and you can claim the body.” My hand trembled violently as I signed my name. A guard handed me an evidence bag. It contained his cracked reading glasses, a broken watch that had stopped ticking, and a confession letter soaked in his blood. I knew that confession was his final plea of innocence, written with his life. My phone vibrated. It was a call from Elias. I answered, and the audio was filled with Sophia’s crying and Elias’s furious interrogation. “Harper, log onto your social media account immediately and make a public statement.” “Admit the facts of your father’s sexual harassment and apologize publicly to Sophia. Now. Right now!” I held my father’s cold hand and said calmly: “I’m outside. It’s not convenient right now.” “What could possibly be ‘inconvenient’? Don’t think running away will let you escape responsibility!” “Sophia’s relatives are already blocking the law firm door. This is blowing up, and it won’t be good for anyone.” “Sophia’s reputation is ruined because of this. How is she supposed to live? Can you please just show a shred of decency?” I looked into my father’s lifeless eyes. “Then what do you want?” “If you don’t want your father to be beaten to death in prison, if you don’t want the final appeal to be a prison sentence without parole, do as I say.” “If you don’t make the statement, I will file a plea of temporary insanity at the appeal. I’ll prove your father is a severe mental patient and have him locked up in a closed asylum.” “Okay. I’ll post it.” I looked at my father’s corpse, my expression completely blank. After hanging up, I hugged his final belongings and walked out of the morgue. The rain was still falling. When I got home at dawn, the living room lights were on. Sophia was sitting on the sofa, wearing Elias’s oversized white dress shirt. Elias was holding a glass of water, gently feeding her medicine. As I walked in, Elias frowned and pulled Sophia protectively behind him. “You smell like death. Stay away from Sophia. Don’t bring your bad luck near her.” Chapter 3 Elias’s mother was sitting in the main hall, her fingers working a rosary. When she saw me come in, she slammed a newspaper directly into my face. “Look at the ‘good work’ your father did! The daughter of an old lecher is, unsurprisingly, a disrespectful piece of trash!” The edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a stinging red line. Printed on the front page was my father’s photo and a glaring headline: UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR’S GRACELESS FALL: ACCUSED OF HARASSING OLD FRIEND’S DAUGHTER. WHEN WILL THE BEAST FACE JUSTICE? Elias handed me a tablet. “Read off of this. Record a video and post it.” “I’ve already calmed Sophia’s family down. As long as you apologize, they won’t pursue criminal charges.” “This is the best outcome for your father; it saves him from suffering in that place.” I didn’t take the tablet. I just looked at Sophia. Sophia shrieked and burrowed into Elias’s embrace, trembling like a leaf. “Elias… I’m so scared… I really didn’t seduce Uncle Stone. I was just taking him some fruit.” “It was him, he suddenly grabbed my hand… I shouldn’t have worn a skirt. It’s all my fault.” Elias stroked her back, then turned a cold glare on me. “Hurry up. Are you really going to force Sophia to her breaking point before you’re satisfied?” He stepped forward, grabbed my wrist, and tried to force my thumb onto the tablet screen to unlock it. I fought back, struggling wildly, and Elias shoved me away. I stumbled back and slammed against the antique curio cabinet. The cello case resting on the top shelf tumbled down. That was the cello my father had bought me as a dowry, paid for by selling our old family home. The case snapped open, and the cello crashed onto the hardwood floor. The neck snapped. The wooden body cracked open. The strings burst with a harsh twang. Elias’s mother let out a cold snort. “This is God’s will. Instruments bought with dirty money bring bad luck. Good riddance that it’s broken.” Elias looked at the shattered cello on the floor and frowned slightly. “It’s just a cello. Don’t use this pathetic acting to get sympathy.” “As long as you apologize obediently, I’ll buy you ten new ones.” “Mom is right, this marriage is untenable. Once this lawsuit is wrapped up, let’s just get divorced and be done with it.” I hugged the broken cello as I slowly stood up. I nodded. “Okay.” “Divorce.” Elias froze, then his expression shifted to pure rage. He leaned down, his face pressing close to mine, his eyes full of threats. “You want a divorce? Fine. Make the statement first.” “Otherwise, without my help, your father will be beaten to death in jail.” “You know the rules in there—the inmates have plenty of special ‘methods’ for rapists and harassers.” I looked into Elias Vance’s face. “Do whatever you want.” I hugged my broken cello, turned, and walked upstairs. Behind me, I could hear Elias shouting and Sophia’s soft, soothing voice. I went into my room and locked the door. I took out some wood glue, trying to repair the cello. The glue covered my hands, making a sticky mess, but the wooden shards wouldn’t fit back together. A splinter pierced my finger, and a drop of bright red blood fell onto the cracked wood. My phone lit up. It was a message from the prison guard. [Only an immediate family member with a closed police statement issued by the police department can reclaim the ashes.] Without a closed statement, my father could not rest in peace. I put down the glue and began to laugh. A horrific, hollow laugh. Elias, you win. Chapter 4 I sprinted down the stairs. Elias was standing in the entryway, adjusting his cuffs. Sophia was sitting in a wheelchair, looking pale and fragile. Elias cast a sideways glance at me. “Have you come to your senses?” “If you have, come with me. The press conference is starting soon.” I took a deep breath, my fingernails digging so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. “Give me the closing police statement.” “I want that statement. As long as you give it to me, I’ll do anything.” Elias let out a contemptuous laugh. “As long as you cooperate obediently, never mind a closing statement—I can even get your father medical parole.” “Let’s go. Don’t keep the reporters waiting.” At the press conference, camera flashes strobed endlessly, and all lenses were focused on the stage. Sophia sat in her wheelchair, weeping softly into a tissue. The reporters below began to fire sharp, accusatory questions. “Ms. Stone, as the daughter of a rapist, do you feel any shame?” “We heard your father utilized his position to harass female students for years. Were you aware of this?” “Ms. Vance is the victim, yet your family tried to throw mud at her. Is this the behavior of a highly educated family?” Elias took the microphone and looked at me, his eyes commanding. “This is your last chance for atonement, Harper.” He pulled the script from his briefcase and tossed it at my feet. “As long as you read this, and kneel publicly to apologize, Sophia’s family will sign the letter of forgiveness.” “Once the case is closed, I will give you the closing statement, and your father can come home.” I stared at the paper. The script was full of phrases slandering my father. Sophia pulled on Elias’s sleeve, her voice echoing through the microphone to the entire hall. “Elias, as long as Harper kneels and apologizes, I won’t pursue this further. After all, she is Uncle Stone’s only daughter.” Elias nodded approvingly, and the bodyguards nearby took a step toward me, forcing me forward. In front of the blinding cameras, I slowly sank to my knees. My knees slammed onto the hardwood floor, and the noisy hall instantly fell dead silent. I picked up the script, faced the cameras, and spoke, enunciating every word clearly. “I am Robert Stone’s daughter.” “I admit, my father is guilty…” Elias let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile curving the corners of his mouth. I raised my head, staring directly into the lenses, tears sliding down my cheeks. “His greatest guilt was giving birth to me, and ever meeting all of you.” Chapter 5 The blinding flashes at the press conference finally died down. I pressed my hands against the floor, attempting to stand. My knees had been kneeling on the hard floor for too long and had completely lost all feeling. Not a single person stepped forward to help me. The surrounding reporters were looking down, reviewing the footage they had just shot. Sophia was still sitting there, weeping softly, soaking up Elias’s comforting embrace. I gritted my teeth, hands pushing against my knees, and little by little, pulled myself up from the ground. Elias, probably thinking my appearance was too disgraceful, walked over with a frown. In his hand, he pinched two thin sheets of paper. One was the Closing Police Statement, stamped with a bright red official seal. The other was an Application for Bail Pending Trial, the signature line blank. He held the two papers out in front of me. “Harper, you can’t blame me for being ruthless.” “If I hadn’t done this, Sophia’s family would never have let this go.” “Your father would have had to spend the rest of his life in prison with this stain.” “With this closing statement, plus this bail application…” “As long as you go to the hospital and get a dementia certificate, you can bring him home next week to celebrate the holidays.” He spoke so lightly. As if the person who had just forced me to kneel, who had forced me to nail my father to a pillar of shame, wasn’t him. I raised my hand, but I only took the Closing Police Statement. As for the Application for Bail Pending Trial that he had gone to so much trouble to obtain, I didn’t even cast a glance at it. Riiiiip— The sound of paper tearing was exceptionally clear in the quiet backstage area. With a blank expression, I tore the application form in half, then stacked the halves and tore them again, into tiny shreds. With a toss of my hand, the paper fragments fluttered into the nearby trash bin like snow. Elias’s face turned livid, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Harper Stone! What are you going crazy for now?” “This is a special authorization I had to beg the Director for days to get!” “You tore it up. Do you actually want your father to die in there?” I brushed the paper dust off my hands, carefully folded that precious closing statement, and put it into my inner pocket. I looked up at him, my eyes completely hollow. “No need, Counselor Vance.” “Since the case is closed, you and I are officially even.” Having said that, I turned on my heel and walked away. Seeing this, Sophia hurriedly pushed her wheelchair over, her face wearing that nauseating look of cowardice and fake concern. “Harper, please don’t be angry with Elias.” “He’s doing this for Uncle Stone’s own good.” She reached out, wanting to grab the hem of my jacket. I stepped sideways, avoiding her completely. I didn’t even brush against a single thread of her clothing. “Ah!” Sophia let out a dramatic cry of surprise, and she tumbled out of the wheelchair as it tipped over onto the floor. She covered her ankle, tears instantly flooding out, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Harper, I know you hate me, but I really just wanted to help.” Elias shoved me aside and rushed over to gather Sophia in his arms. “Harper Stone! That is enough!” “I already gave you the statement, and you’ve already apologized!” “Why did you still have to lay hands on Sophia?!” “The way you act right now is truly repulsive!” I was pushed back a few steps, my lower back slamming hard into a metal door handle. A piercing pain shot through my spine. But I simply straightened my body, lacking even the desire to explain. “Repulsive?” I twitched the corners of my mouth, my smile stiff and cold. “Once you never have to see me again, you won’t have to be repulsed anymore.” “And, Elias Vance, hear this clearly: even if you kneel before me in the future and beg…” “I will never give you a single glance ever again.” Elias let out a cold scoff, holding Sophia as he stood up, his eyes full of absolute contempt. “Beg you? Harper, are you dreaming?” “I, Elias Vance, will only bow my head for justice in this life.” “I will never lower my head to a bottomless shrew like you!” “Get the hell home! Tell the housekeeper to make a good meal tonight and take it to your father.” “Stop embarrassing me out here!” I didn’t say another word, turning and walking out of the press hall. The sunlight outside was blinding, but hitting my skin, it offered absolutely no warmth. I hailed a taxi and went straight to the county jail. My hand gripped that closing statement tightly in my pocket. Only this piece of paper could bring my dad home.

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After serving my sick mother-in-law in the hospital for half a year, I finally returned home. Before I could even warm the sofa, my husband suddenly opened the door and walked in with another woman. The woman cradled a clearly pregnant belly and shyly lowered her head. “This is Mia. I… made a mistake five months ago, and now she’s pregnant. I’m worried about her living alone outside, so I have no choice but to entrust her to your care.” “It’ll be a bit tough on you for this period, just half a year. Once the baby is born, I’ll send her away.” I frowned: “You want me to serve your mistress through her pregnancy and postpartum? Did your brain get slammed in a door?” Mark exploded on the spot, smashing a glass. “I only brought Mia home because I thought you were kind-hearted. Don’t be ungrateful!” “If you don’t agree, we get a divorce right now. I have plenty of ways to make sure you don’t get a single dime!” My mother-in-law, recently discharged from the hospital, glared at me coldly: “A hen that can’t lay eggs herself, and won’t let anyone else lay them either. Is my Miller family going to end with you?” “My son gives you face, and you are Mrs. Miller. If he doesn’t give you face, you’re just a used, worn-out rag! What right do you have to throw an attitude at my son!” I looked at my self-righteous husband, then at my disdainful mother-in-law, and smiled. It’s not that I wouldn’t agree to take care of the mistress. It’s just that I secretly sterilized my husband a long time ago. Whose seed is growing in Mia’s belly? 1 I stood up from the sofa, my fingertips trembling slightly from anger. “So, for the half-year I was running around the hospital taking care of your mother for you, you were busy taking care of another woman outside, and even had a child with her? Not only did she get pregnant, but now you want me to take care of her? Is that what you’re saying?” Before Mark could speak, my mother-in-law chimed in anxiously. “What kind of attitude is that? Can’t you hear an elder speaking to you? Do you have any manners?” “You are the daughter-in-law; taking care of me is your duty! My son hasn’t left you short of food or clothes, who are you pulling this face for?” I turned to look at my mother-in-law, a mocking arc curving at the corner of my mouth. “Mom, in your heart, am I really the Miller family’s daughter-in-law?” Before I finished speaking, Mark immediately agreed: “Mom is right.” “Chloe, don’t forget, the house you live in now, the car you drive, which of them didn’t I give you? Without me, you’re nothing!” “Married for five years and your belly hasn’t shown any movement. It’s good enough our Miller family hasn’t blamed you.” My mother-in-law sneered: “Now Mia is carrying Mark’s seed, this is the hope of the Miller family. You must take good care of her!” Mark chimed in to support her: “Exactly.” “You can’t give birth yourself, so you want to stop others from doing it? Chloe, can you not be so vicious?” Watching this mother and son sing the same tune, I only felt it was absurd and hilarious. Five years of marriage. I accompanied Mark from setting up a street stall to taking his company public. During the early days of his startup, when he stayed up late guarding the shop, I brought him late-night snacks. When his capital turnover was tight, I mortgaged the apartment my parents gave me for the wedding. His mother was hospitalized three times, and I served her, handling her bedpans and urinals. Even half a year ago, when she was hospitalized for a stroke, I guarded her side day and night for six months. And now, I’ve become a used rag that is nothing. Just because I can’t have a child, I am the sinner of their entire family! “I didn’t say I disagreed.” I interrupted them, my tone as calm as stagnant water. Both Mark and my mother-in-law were stunned, clearly not expecting me to agree. “Glad you know what’s good for you.” My mother-in-law curled her lip: “Hurry up and tidy up a south-facing bedroom for Mia; pregnant women need sunlight.” “The fridge in the kitchen is empty. Go buy groceries now; Mia is hungry.” Mark ordered immediately, as if I were really the family’s nanny. I didn’t speak, turning and walking into the guest room. I watched as they crowded around Mia, walking into the master bedroom. That was the room Mark and I had shared for five years. Mia sat on the bed I had slept in for five years and said timidly to Mark: “Mark, won’t this be too much trouble for Sister Chloe?” “What trouble? She’s supposed to do these things anyway.” Mark stroked her hair, his tone soft enough to drip water: “You’re carrying my child; just rest well.” I closed the door, my back against the panel, my fingertips icy cold. Images from four years ago suddenly flooded my mind. At that time, Mark’s company had just started to pick up, and he hired a young, beautiful secretary named Willow. The first time I saw them at the company, Willow was standing on her tiptoes tying Mark’s tie. They smiled intimately, and the large expanse of exposed skin on the woman’s chest was pressed right against him. I confronted Mark, but he said I was being unreasonable: “It’s just a secretary helping her boss tie his tie, and those clothes are the company’s standard uniform. What are you thinking? Chloe, can you be a bit more generous?” Later, I received a photo from Willow. She was lying on a hotel bed, covered with Mark’s suit jacket. The caption: “Mr. Miller says I know how to be romantic much better than you.” I took the photo to the company to confront Mark. But he kicked me out in front of all the company employees. “Chloe! Stop making a fool of yourself here! Make a scene again and we’re getting a divorce!” That day I stood outside the company building. Looking at the man I had loved in that high-rise, my heart completely died. I accompanied him in building his business from scratch, but after striking it rich, he wanted to kick me to the curb. But I wasn’t willing to let it go. Half of this company is my blood and sweat; I couldn’t just hand it over to someone else. I began to plan quietly. I asked a friend to buy sterilization drugs and mixed them into Mark’s coffee. He never suspected me, drinking it with absolute peace of mind. I thought, since I can’t keep his heart, at least I must protect my assets. I would make sure he could never have someone else’s child inherit everything. But I never expected that today, five years later, he would actually bring a pregnant woman home. 2 The first day Mia moved in, she treated me like a nanny. At seven in the morning, she banged loudly on my door: “Sister Chloe, I’m hungry. I want to eat soy milk and fried dough sticks from that old shop downstairs. Go buy them.” I had just finished washing up and hadn’t even had time for breakfast before she bossed me around. When I bought the soy milk and fried dough sticks back, she frowned again and said: “Oh my, I can’t eat fried food right now, it’s bad for the baby.” “Sister Chloe, please go boil some bird’s nest for me, the kind that needs to be stewed for over three hours.” I didn’t say a word, turning and walking into the kitchen. My mother-in-law was sitting in the living room watching TV. Seeing me busy running around, not only did she not help, but she also commanded: “Put a few more red dates in the bird’s nest; Mia is anemic.” In the afternoon, I made four dishes and a soup. Mia only took one bite of a dish and put down her chopsticks: “Sister Chloe, the dishes you made are too salty, the baby can’t handle it.” “And I want to eat sour things right now. Go buy me a bottle of aged vinegar, the sourest kind.” I dug my nails into my palms: “It’s so cold out, you want me to run out and buy vinegar? There’s some in the kitchen; you can drink it like water if you want.” “Sister Chloe, how can you speak like that?” Mia’s eyes immediately reddened, and she looked at Mark, who had just returned home from work: “Mark, I didn’t mean to make things difficult for Sister Chloe, it’s just that the baby wants to eat…” Mark immediately glared at me: “Chloe! What’s wrong with you?” “Mia is pregnant, what’s wrong with wanting something to eat? Go buy it right now!” I gripped the chopsticks in my hand tightly, my knuckles turning white. “Fine, I’ll buy it.” From then on, Mia’s demands became increasingly outrageous. She made me wash her underwear, by hand, saying the washing machine didn’t clean well enough. She made me give her a sponge bath every day, saying it was inconvenient for her to bend over. She even made me clip her toenails, and complained that I didn’t clip them round enough. While making me massage her legs, she stroked her smooth skin: “Sister Chloe, look at your hands, as rough as old tree bark. No wonder Mark doesn’t like you.” “Women need to take good care of themselves, otherwise, you’ll lose your looks at a young age, and who will cherish you then?” I ignored her, continuing to massage. She spoke again: “Sister Chloe, you’ve been with Mark for so many years, have you never given him any surprises? Men all like women who know how to be romantic. You’re like a piece of wood, how could Mark care about you?” When Mark returned, she immediately changed her tune, nestling in his arms: “Mark, you’re back? Sister Chloe massaged me for a long time today. It must have been hard work for her.” Mark touched her face, looking at me with a mocking gaze: “Look at how sensible Mia is. You should learn from her.” I gave a cold laugh and turned into the kitchen. Later, Mia asked me to help her buy maternity and baby supplies, and I immediately agreed. Anyway, it was Mark’s money being spent; why not spend it? Opportunities to openly transfer assets are rare. But I didn’t expect her to push her luck. That night, she handed me a shopping list. The last item was boldly written: “Lingerie.” She blushed, lowering her head shyly: “Sister Chloe, please help me buy this.” “Mark seems a bit tired lately. I want to give him a surprise and make him happy.” I looked at the list, feeling nothing but disgust: “If you want to buy it, go buy it yourself.” “Sister Chloe, why are you like this?” Her tears fell instantly: “I’m a pregnant woman, it’s so inconvenient to go out. And this kind of thing, how could a young girl like me have the nerve to go buy it?” My face went completely cold: “What does that have to do with me?” “You’re already a pregnant woman, what are you pretending to be a young girl for?” Mia cried beautifully: “Sister Chloe, do you dislike me?” “I know I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be carrying Mark’s child. If you really can’t stand the sight of me, I’ll just leave with the child, so I won’t be an eyesore here.” Mark happened to come back from outside. Hearing the crying, he immediately ran over: “What happened? Why is Mia crying?” 3 “Mark!” Mia threw herself into Mark’s arms, complaining tearfully: “I just wanted Sister Chloe to help me buy something to make you happy. I didn’t expect Sister Chloe to be unwilling, and she even said I shouldn’t be here… How about I just live outside?” Mark glared at me angrily: “Chloe! What are you throwing a fit about again?” “Mia asked you to buy something, so what? Do you have to make things so difficult for her?” I said flatly: “She asked me to buy lingerie.” “Then buy it!” Mark was unconcerned, adopting a high-and-mighty posture: “Mia wants to make me happy, what’s wrong with that? As the older sister, what’s wrong with helping her buy something? You’re just narrow-minded, jealous that Mia is carrying my child!” I finally couldn’t hold it back anymore, abruptly raising my volume: “Mark, have you no shame?” “She’s a mistress! You want me to buy lingerie for your mistress? Are you crazy?” “Shut your mouth!” Mark was livid with anger: “Chloe, I’m warning you, you are not allowed to speak of Mia like that! She is carrying my child, she is a meritorious contributor to the Miller family!” Mia pulled on Mark’s arm, hypocritically advising: “Mark, don’t be angry, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked Sister Chloe to help me buy this kind of thing.” As she spoke, she deliberately leaned towards me. Then her foot slipped, and she fell directly onto the floor. She clutched her stomach, her face deathly pale. “Mia!” Mark was scared out of his wits, hurriedly picking her up: “How are you? Are you okay?” “I… my stomach hurts a bit…” Mia bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. When she looked at me, there was a trace of imperceptible smugness in her eyes: “Sister Chloe, I know you don’t like me, but you shouldn’t have pushed me…” I was stunned. “I didn’t push you!” “If it wasn’t you, who was it?” Mark’s eyes widened in fury, pointing at my nose and cursing: “Chloe, you venomous woman! Mia is pregnant, and you actually dared to push her? I’m telling you, if anything happens to her, I won’t let you off!” I looked at him, my heart sinking little by little. “Mark, are you blind?” “Get back to your room! Without my permission, you are not allowed to come out!” Mark held Mia, shouting sternly: “If there’s any problem with Mia and the baby, I’m not done with you!” I watched as he nervously carried Mia to the hospital, watching my mother-in-law follow behind, cursing. Suddenly, I felt an immense sense of irony. I stood rooted to the spot, speaking coldly: “Since this family doesn’t welcome me, I’ll just leave.” I packed my bags and left the house I had lived in for five years. As soon as I checked into a hotel, my phone rang. It was a WeChat message from Mia. She sent a photo of a designer bag Mark had bought her: “Mark bought this for me, said it’s a gift to make it up to me. By the way, this money seems to be your and Mark’s joint property.” Then, she sent a screenshot of a money transfer. Mark had transferred fifty thousand dollars to her. “Mark told me to spend it however I want, and said once the baby is born, he’ll divorce you. By then you’ll get nothing. Sister Chloe, don’t you think your five years were wasted for nothing?” “Instead of losing all your face then, it’s better to initiate a divorce now and leave with nothing.” I deleted the message and ignored it. In the following days, she escalated her behavior, sending me all kinds of show-off messages every day. Mark took her to buy jewelry. Mark accompanied her to prenatal checkups. Mark hired a top-tier postpartum nanny for her… Every message reminded me of how heartless Mark was, and how smug she was. I looked at those messages and only found them amusing. I was waiting. Waiting for the day she gave birth, waiting for the moment the truth was revealed. In the blink of an eye, three months passed, and Mia gave birth to a son. Mark was overjoyed, throwing a grand banquet, and specifically sent me a message: “We’ve been giving each other the silent treatment for so long, it’s time to let go of your anger. After all, you are the child’s mother in name. It’s inappropriate if you don’t show up.” I looked at the invitation and sneered. Host it, the more lively the better. Such a wonderful play, how could it lack an audience?

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