Category: English

To fulfill the original host’s final wish, the moment I transmigrated into this novel, I was immediately hit with the female lead’s emotional blackmail. “Maya, I’m begging you, please give the valedictorian spot to me! This spot means nothing to you!” “But I’m different! This valedictorian spot is my only chance to turn my life around!” The female lead stood on the roof of the school building, her eyes brimming with tears. She seemed to be pouring her heart out, but her words were subtly accusing me of stealing the valedictorian spot that supposedly belonged to her. My homeroom teacher, who had always had it out for me, ignored the situation and forcefully demanded that I surrender the spot. The cameras were focused on my incredibly calm face. Watching this self-directed melodrama unfold, amidst the urging and accusations of the crowd, I slowly spoke up: “Sure, if you want it, I’ll give it to you!” 01 “W-What did you say?” Standing on the roof, Chloe seemed uncertain. A flicker of shock crossed her face, which had been prepped for a full-blown hysterical breakdown. Seeing her act so easily turned on and off, I couldn’t help but find it funny, but I still spoke loudly and clearly: “I said, if you want this valedictorian spot, I’ll give it to you!” Now, not only was Chloe stunned, but so were the principal, the teachers, and the students watching the spectacle. Everyone knew how incredibly difficult it was to get the valedictorian spot. Every year, students fought tooth and nail for it. It wasn’t something you could easily snatch away just by throwing a tantrum. Whoever gave it away would be an absolute idiot! But I really did give it away. “Are you telling the truth?!” Chloe was still standing near the edge of the roof, but her voice now carried a hint of hesitation. According to her plan, I wasn’t supposed to agree so quickly. I was supposed to be publicly condemned under her emotional blackmail, and only then would I reluctantly surrender the spot. After all, in the original novel, the host was cyberbullied relentlessly precisely because she refused to back down! But me? My whole brand is doing the unexpected! “What else can I do? You’re threatening me with suicide. Could I really just let you die?” I worked up some emotion, and my eyes instantly turned red the moment I spoke. The first step in countering emotional blackmail is, naturally, to retreat in order to advance, to use softness to conquer hardness! I spoke earnestly: “We’re classmates. Is there anything we can’t discuss privately? Threatening suicide like this, besides giving the school a bad reputation, is irresponsible to your own life.” “Have you thought about your parents? You’re their only daughter. How can you face them after doing this?” “I know you’re on financial aid and things are hard at home, but that’s exactly why you can’t joke around with your life!” “With so many classmates here as witnesses, I’m giving you the valedictorian spot. Please stop this and come down!” My voice choked with emotion, my eyes growing redder with every word. Every step I took back, every earnest word I spoke, almost immediately shifted the narrative that was previously against me. “Maya, are you really willing to give up the valedictorian spot?” The principal, who had just been urging me to agree, suddenly seemed hesitant. “I can’t just watch her do something stupid.” I sighed, my eyes red, looking wronged yet helpless: “Even though you promised me, Principal, that as long as I won gold at the Nationals, the only valedictorian spot would be mine.” “I don’t know why this happened, or why Chloe is acting like this. But if she wasn’t desperate, she probably wouldn’t be causing such a scene.” I lowered my head and wiped my tears. My words even carried a hint of manipulative innocence. Retreating to advance, showing vulnerability to the opponent and everyone else, and using manipulative language to frame myself as the helpless victim—I wanted to see if Chloe still had the gall to accept the valedictorian spot I was personally handing over! The principal looked at me with a hint of admiration. Only the homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis, looked at me with suspicion. He lowered his voice and said to me: “Are you serious? Don’t play games with me now!” “And now you’re blaming Chloe? If you had given up the spot earlier, none of this would have happened!” “I think you’re just selfish! Playing the victim while getting exactly what you want!” Damn it! What the hell is this?! My fists are itching! I looked at Mr. Davis, his eyes full of disgust, my own eyes turning icy. Remembering the unfair treatment the original host suffered because of him in the novel, anger flared within me. Without hesitation, I raised my voice: “Mr. Davis, how can you say that about me!” Because he had deliberately lowered his voice, the people around us hadn’t heard what he just said. In the original novel, the host always endured it, thinking it was better to avoid trouble, believing that if she just put up with it, it would pass. But I’m different! “Mr. Davis, the principal gave me this valedictorian spot. It’s not just something you can give away on a whim!” “If you were in my shoes, would you willingly give away a spot you worked so hard for?” “I only gave it up to save Chloe’s life. How can you say I’m playing the victim while getting what I want?!” I deliberately raised my voice so everyone present could hear me. At this moment, all eyes were on Mr. Davis and me. Even the principal turned to look at us. And I seized the moment. I let the tears flow freely, acting completely emotionally shattered. I covered my face and started sobbing: “Waaaah—Was I wrong to work so hard for this valedictorian spot? Why is everyone forcing me? If this is how it is, why did you give it to me in the first place?!” “I’ve already decided to give it to her, why are you still criticizing me? I know you’ve never liked me, Mr. Davis. If that’s the case, I’ll just transfer schools!” “As long as I transfer, the spot can legitimately go to Chloe, and no one will be put in a difficult position!” I squatted on the ground, crying uncontrollably. Everyone looked at me with sympathy. Some teachers had already started gathering around to comfort me. But Mr. Davis stood there with a livid face, yelling at me as if his brain had shrunk: “Maya, if you have the guts, then transfer!” “Don’t think you can threaten the school just because you have good grades! Let’s see which school would take an orphan who can’t even afford tuition!” “Do you think you could have gotten into the Nationals without the school giving you the opportunity? Stop acting like you’re so great!” The principal had taken a phone call earlier and wandered off somewhere. Otherwise, Mr. Davis wouldn’t have dared to be so arrogant in front of him. Plus, as the head of the grade and the homeroom teacher of the school’s advanced class, no other teacher usually dared to cross him. He belittled me to nothingness, just as he did to the original host. It seemed that no matter how many achievements I had, or how good my grades were, in his eyes, I would always be useless. And his hatred for the original host didn’t come from nowhere. During a class, the host pointed out an error in his calculation and steps for a problem. Feeling humiliated, Mr. Davis flew into a rage, brutally berating the host in front of the entire class. But that was only the surface. The host was a genius. If she weren’t an orphan, her talent might have gotten her into an early college program, exposing her to a world others could never reach. Mr. Davis realized this more than anyone. But as a teacher, he didn’t feel sorry for her; instead, he was jealous. Jealous that she possessed a talent he didn’t, and that she would reach heights he could never touch. His internal imbalance twisted him. He constantly suppressed her, belittled her efforts, and mocked her background, all in an attempt to drag her down into the dirt so she would never rise! Disgusting! How does someone like him deserve to be a teacher?! Chloe had already been brought down from the roof by the dean. Hearing Mr. Davis belittle me, her face was full of smugness. So what if my grades were better? As long as Mr. Davis disliked me, I would always be beneath her! Mr. Davis looked at me with a sneer: “I think you might as well drop out. With your family background, even if you get into college, you won’t be able to afford it!” “You’re better off entering the workforce early so you don’t starve later!” “Transfer? Hah! Let’s see which blind school would take you!” 02 “I’ll take her!” As soon as Mr. Davis finished speaking, a booming voice echoed from nearby. The sneer on his face instantly morphed into shock. This was undeniably a public slap in the face! The onlookers felt that this scene was far more interesting than Chloe’s suicide threat. Following the voice, they saw a middle-aged man in his forties, hands clasped behind his back, leading a group of people swiftly toward us. The principal, walking beside him, looked as if he wanted to burn a hole through Mr. Davis with his glare—who knows how much of Mr. Davis’s rant he had overheard. “Are you—” Mr. Davis frowned at the bald man, seeming to recognize him. Just as he was about to ask, the man didn’t even spare him a glance. He walked right past him, grabbed my hand without hesitation, and said excitedly: “Maya! As soon as I got your text, our teachers and I rushed over here without stopping!” “I’m so thrilled! Absolutely thrilled! You finally figured it out!” The man held my hand tightly, looking at me as if I were a giant, glittering nugget of gold, his eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry, the offer is exactly the same as I promised before. If you come to our school, Lincoln High, not only will your tuition be fully covered, but the school will also give you a $2,000 monthly living stipend! Room and board are entirely on us; all you have to do is focus on the SATs!” “Furthermore, if you guarantee you’ll score in the top 50 in the state, the school will give you an extra $10,000 scholarship. Top 20 gets $15,000, top 10 gets $20,000! And if you become the state valedictorian, we double it!” “What do you say?” “Sounds good.” Under his expectant gaze, I nodded without hesitation. After all, from the moment I texted him, I had no intention of staying at this school! “Are you… Principal Carter of Lincoln High?” Mr. Davis swallowed hard, staring in utter shock at the scene unfolding before him, which was practically making his blood pressure spike. What did he just see? The principal of the top high school in the city not only publicly humiliated him but was also excitedly holding my hand, inviting me to transfer! And from the looks of it, Principal Carter had tried to poach me more than once privately. “Yeah, what do you want?” Hearing Mr. Davis, Principal Carter, who had just been so warm to me, instantly changed his expression, his voice dripping with annoyance. He didn’t even glance at Mr. Davis. Instead, he turned to Principal Miller, whose face was green, and mocked: “Miller, this is the kind of teacher you have at your school? Publicly belittling and insulting students? Where are his professional ethics? Eaten by a dog? Your school actually dares to employ someone like this!” After saying that, he immediately turned back to me, his face full of smiles: “But our school is different!” “Rest assured, Maya, I guarantee our teachers are absolutely student-centered and respectful. A situation like this—lacking professional ethics and moral boundaries—will absolutely, definitely never happen!” “Right, Ms. Wright?!” “Yes, yes, yes!” The female teacher behind him, having been called upon, stepped forward immediately without hesitation, gripping my hand tightly with a gentle smile: “Maya, it’s so good to finally meet you! Let me introduce myself, I’m the homeroom teacher for the advanced class at Lincoln High.” “I’ve heard so much about you, and I finally get to meet you today! Don’t worry, my senior class is a very united and warm family. You will definitely feel at home there.” What kind of pyramid scheme pitch is this! Looking at her gentle and sincere expression, I suppressed the twitch at the corner of my mouth and nodded at her. “I’ll be in your care, Ms. Wright.” Hearing this, the group of Lincoln High teachers who had come to poach me looked so happy they were ready to jump. “Let’s go, let’s go! We’re going to process your transfer paperwork right now! Which class are you in? I’ll have a teacher pack your things for you!” Principal Carter’s face crinkled into a massive smile. Ignoring Principal Miller’s dark expression, he pulled me toward the administration office. Now, not only was Mr. Davis dumbfounded, but Chloe was stunned, and all the watching teachers and students were completely floored! Who could have imagined things would turn out like this! Chloe stood there, looking like she was about to shatter. She only wanted to force me to give up the valedictorian spot. Who would have thought I would get poached by the top high school in the city! Mr. Davis was even more bewildered. He probably never imagined I had connections with the principal of Lincoln High, and it seemed they had tried to poach me multiple times! In the original novel, the host caught the eye of the Lincoln High principal long before moving from the state competition to the nationals. She repeatedly rejected his invitations out of gratitude to her current school, which had made an exception to admit her and waived her tuition. She remembered the school’s kindness and kept backing down. But when faced with Chloe’s scheming, emotional blackmail, cyberbullying, and public condemnation, the school abandoned her without hesitation. Her endurance and suffering gained her nothing, ultimately costing her her life! But in the face of injustice and emotional blackmail, enduring is an endless sea of suffering, and resisting is like throwing eggs at a rock—neither is the action of a wise person. Clearly, the original host didn’t realize this. Because if she had, she would have understood that her skills and grades were her greatest leverage. She didn’t need to endure, nor did she need to fight. She just needed to be ruthless! There’s always someone who appreciates her achievements and values her hard work. If this place doesn’t want me, another place will! Be ruthless, jump ship, and use your own abilities to deliver a resounding slap to the faces of everyone who ever bullied you! 03 “Maya, are you sure you want to transfer to another school during such a critical period?” “Even though Lincoln High is a top school, you’ve lived and studied here at Washington High for two years. Moving to a new environment will inevitably affect you!” “I promise you, as long as you don’t go to Lincoln High, the valedictorian spot is still yours!” “Or any other conditions, you can name them right now!” Principal Miller gritted his teeth, making his final stand. After all, he knew that with my grades, as long as I performed consistently, I had an 80% chance of becoming the state valedictorian in the upcoming SATs. What school would willingly let a potential state valedictorian slip away to a rival school! I imagine if it weren’t for today’s fiasco, or if he had been a bit firmer, things wouldn’t have escalated to this point! I clearly saw Principal Miller shoot a glare at Mr. Davis. I bet he wanted to rip Mr. Davis’s head off and kick it like a soccer ball! Mr. Davis kept his head down. This was the first time I saw a hint of panic on his face, probably because he knew that losing a top student like me would definitely make the principal direct his anger at him. Let alone keeping his position as head of the grade, he’d probably get stripped of his role as the homeroom teacher for the advanced class! So even if it meant throwing away his pride, he had to make me stay. “Maya, earlier… your teacher was just too anxious and misspoke.” “I apologize to you. Can you find it in your heart to be the bigger person? For the sake of the school that recognized your potential, please stay.” “Not a chance.” I shook my head at Mr. Davis without hesitation, saying slowly: “Mr. Davis, you really don’t need to bend over backward for me. Because deep down, you know you owe me more than just this one apology.” The naked sarcasm in my eyes made Mr. Davis’s face instantly darken. But with the principal present, he didn’t dare say a word in anger! “Alright, Miller, sign the papers and let her go! You couldn’t keep her because of your own issues; own up to your losses.” “If you have time to figure out how to keep students, you should instead investigate the ethics of your faculty, so no more students get poisoned.” “Of course, if your advanced class has any more students wanting to transfer, Lincoln High is more than happy to welcome them.” Principal Carter sounded like he was urging him, but his words were dripping with sarcasm. I can only say, as expected of a top high school principal—he knows exactly how to hit where it hurts! With things escalating to this point, and the rival principal showing up in person, not letting me go was out of the question. No matter how reluctant he was, Principal Miller had to grit his teeth and sign. “Now that’s more like it! Don’t worry about the little girl not adjusting. I’ll make sure she has the best environment to get top scores!” “This prized student you couldn’t keep at Washington High, Lincoln High is very happy to accept!” Principal Carter laughed heartily, grabbing the transfer form and trying to lead me away. But just as he stepped out of the office, Mr. Davis called out: “Wait!” Mr. Davis seemed to have remembered something, a sudden look of triumph appearing on his face. “For her to transfer, the school letting her go isn’t enough. Her legal guardian must also agree.” “Her legal guardian must be present and sign before this transfer is officially valid!” Mr. Davis looked at me with sheer amusement, acting as if he had grabbed my lifeline, completely carried away by his own smugness. “Davis, don’t give me that bullshit!” Principal Carter was furious. If they weren’t in a school, he’d probably have grabbed Mr. Davis by the collar without hesitation. “Everyone knows Maya is an orphan. Aren’t you afraid of getting struck by lightning for saying something like that?!” “Miller, how is a guy like this a teacher? Does Washington High even care?!” Principal Miller shot a glance at Mr. Davis. On one hand, he despised Mr. Davis’s actions; on the other, it was clear he really didn’t want to lose a top student like me. As long as he could keep a top student, who cares about looking shameless! “Carter, Maya’s situation is indeed very special. Our school took a huge risk accepting her back then.” “Transferring schools must follow procedure. How about this.” Principal Miller cleared his throat: “Why not give us some time? With everything that happened today, Maya’s emotions are probably unstable. I’ll make time to consult with the Board of Education and come up with a solution. What do you think?” Principal Miller was clearly stalling for time, ideally until college applications opened. Then, even if I wanted to transfer, I’d be out of luck and forced to stay here under their control. Old ginger is definitely spicier! These old geezers are digging deeper and deeper holes! “You!” Principal Carter’s cheek twitched with anger, but since he was on their turf and my situation was indeed unique, he could only try to think of another way. “Maya, why don’t you head back to class for now? We shouldn’t delay your studies!” Principal Miller looked at me with a triumphant smile. He must have thought my transfer was officially dead in the water. But… he was overthinking it! “Principal Miller, it really doesn’t have to be that complicated.” The corners of my mouth curled up into a smile, and right in front of him, I pulled out my phone: “It’s just missing a guardian’s signature, right? Calling my parents over will only take about ten minutes.” “It’s no trouble at all!” With that, ignoring their increasingly shocked and horrified expressions, I dialed the number saved as “Dad.” He answered almost immediately. After I briefly explained the situation, he didn’t hesitate for a second and said he was on his way. Mr. Davis’s mouth twitched, his face dark. He was the first to snap out of the shock, a look of disdain appearing on his face: “Maya, you didn’t just hire actors to fool us, did you!” I didn’t answer, just smiled silently at him. About ten minutes later, a middle-aged man in a suit walked into the office. Seeing the man’s face, which bore a striking resemblance to mine, the disdain on Mr. Davis’s face instantly turned to panic. Principal Miller literally stood up from his chair. But it wasn’t out of shock; it was out of fear. “Mr. Sterling!” Principal Miller looked in disbelief at the man standing beside me, his voice even trembling slightly. But he quickly recovered. “Mr. Sterling… Maya is your—” “My biological daughter!” Mr. Sterling’s voice was incredibly authoritative. After all, he was a self-made billionaire who built his empire from scratch; his aura was nothing like that of a normal person. Principal Miller’s face went pale, and Mr. Davis’s expression was equally unreadable. After all, who didn’t know Mr. Sterling? He was the richest man in the city, and not long ago, he had donated money to set up a scholarship at the school. At the time, Mr. Davis had been part of the welcoming committee with the principal. “So, what exactly is going on here?” Mr. Sterling looked at me, his eyes revealing worry and deep affection. And so, in front of everyone, I recounted everything that had just happened, down to the last detail. I also helpfully explained to the group how my family and I had reunited. “I still have to thank the school for giving me the opportunity to participate in the competition. Otherwise, my parents wouldn’t have seen the article about me in the newspaper and found me.” I smiled sweetly at Principal Miller and Mr. Davis, expressing my gratitude, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. Although the original novel didn’t go into detail about this part, the host’s memories clearly recorded the entire process of reuniting with her billionaire parents. The reason the host didn’t reveal she had reunited with her billionaire parents was because she was used to her previously low-key life. Furthermore, her parents felt immensely guilty for losing her in the first place. They wanted to respect her wishes and didn’t want the news to affect her studies. They planned to throw a grand coming-of-age party after she finished the SATs to announce the return of their beloved daughter. Unfortunately, in the original novel, the host never made it to that day. Because of the overwhelming cyberbullying instigated by the female lead, she developed depression and died by suicide, swallowing pills. “So, in a place I couldn’t see, this is how your school treated my daughter, is it?” After hearing everything, Mr. Sterling’s face turned frighteningly dark. He looked at Mr. Davis as if he wanted to murder him right then and there! He shielded me behind him, slammed his hand hard onto the principal’s desk, and, furious to the core, roared: “I, Robert Sterling, owed my daughter for eighteen years! I finally get the chance to find her, and I haven’t even had the time to spoil her yet. Where do you get the nerve to say those things to her!” “The Sterling family isn’t short on money. Whatever Maya owes the school, I’ll pay back every last cent. From now on, my daughter owes you absolutely nothing.” “She’s Robert Sterling’s daughter. She can go wherever she wants. Let’s see who dares to stop her!” Hearing this, Principal Carter couldn’t help but look thrilled. Seizing the moment, he slid the transfer application toward Mr. Sterling. Watching Mr. Sterling sign it without a second thought, his smile was so wide his face practically bloomed. He patted my shoulder in praise: “Like father, like daughter! You and your dad have the exact same no-nonsense, decisive personality!” “Great! I love it!” Lol! I have to admit, I’m loving this face-slapping moment too! The tables had turned again, bringing joy to some and despair to others. Principal Miller slumped in his chair, looking utterly defeated. He lost a top student and offended Mr. Sterling. Now, the investment they had discussed earlier was surely going down the drain! With a cold snort, Mr. Sterling took my hand and walked out of the principal’s office.

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My sister and I both got the chance to return to when we were twenty. She beat me to it, rushing to the intersection where the A-list actor was injured, waiting to save him. “Sister, the chance to marry him is mine!” I watched her back and laughed out loud. Who goes back in time and makes finding a man their first priority? Obviously, I chose to use the opportunity to get rich! Later, my sister successfully bagged my husband from my past life. While she was parading him around in front of me, the husband she was so proud of was kissing up to me with an eager smile: “Ms. Vance, it’s been far too long.” “I’d love to chat with you about the new movie you’re investing in!” Bet you didn’t see that coming. I’m making bank! 01 “Chloe, why hasn’t your sister been coming to class?” A classmate handed me the breakfast she bought for me and secretly asked why Mia had been skipping class again. I shook my head. “I don’t know, she hasn’t been sleeping at home lately either.” But I actually knew exactly where Mia was. She was keeping my future husband company. Mia and I both got a chance to return to when we were twenty and change our destinies. In my previous life, when I was twenty, I saved the A-list actor, Liam Hayes, from a car accident. Later, he introduced me to acting, and relying on that connection, my career took off. At thirty-six, Liam and I got married, and I transitioned into directing, a career that also went smoothly. When Mia saw me get my first acting role, she immediately quit the job our parents had set up for her and threw a tantrum until they let her enter the entertainment industry. She spent half her life struggling, but besides leeching off my name for a little exposure, she achieved nothing. She only left behind a few terrible movies that gossip accounts occasionally dragged out to mock. Mia always believed that all my success was solely due to saving Liam Hayes when I was twenty. So, as soon as we transmigrated back, Mia had our parents lock me in the house. “I’m going to save Liam Hayes. The chance to marry him is mine. “Even if we do this again, Mom and Dad still don’t like you, and Liam will fall in love with me!” I wasn’t angry. I had already experienced our parents’ attitude once, and I saw right through them. I didn’t expect anything from them in my past life, and I certainly wouldn’t in this one. “Do you really want to marry Liam that badly?” “Of course, why else would I go through all this trouble to come back?!” Through the glass door, Mia’s face was a bit blurry, but her voice was crystal clear: “Chloe, I brought you back specifically so you could watch it happen.” Uh… wow. I had to cover my mouth to keep my laughter from escaping. Who else could relate? Waking up and painlessly returning to being twenty. My sister has always been an idiot, but when aimed in the right direction, her idiocy can be a weapon of mass destruction. To make her feel secure, I grabbed the door handle and feigned agony: “How could you do this to me? “Liam won’t love you!” Mia lifted her chin high: “This time, the one who gets everything is me.” After Mia left, I wiped my face, cleaning off the tears I had just acted out. Looking at this familiar yet foreign room, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. This is great. Having a second chance at life, who would waste it looking for a man? Of course, you use the opportunity to fix mistakes and get filthy rich! Besides, Liam Hayes is no saint anyway. 02 When school ended in the evening, Mia was absent, so Dad wouldn’t drive over to pick us up. But I was already used to this kind of behavior. After all, they weren’t my biological parents. In my past life, it took me a lot of time to find out that Mia’s dad, Arthur Vance, was actually my uncle. After my parents died, he inherited all their assets and told everyone I was his biological daughter. When I was young, I wondered why my parents treated me so poorly while spoiling Mia rotten. I later realized I was never truly part of their family. Arthur felt that adopting me was unfair to Mia. She was supposed to be an only child, but now I was added to the mix. Why didn’t he think about how his entire family was living off my parents’ money? In my past life, they kept me in the dark. By the time I found out the truth, Arthur had already used my parents’ money to start a company and had enjoyed it for more than half his life. But now, there’s still time for everything. Thank you, Mia, for using your smooth brain to help me achieve this dream. I don’t know what she traded to get the ability to reverse time, but it doesn’t matter, as long as it wasn’t my sacrifice. … “You want to audition?” The staff member at the door looked at me in confusion. “This is an internal casting call. How did you know about it? Don’t cause trouble, hurry up and leave.” I smiled. “Why not let me try? You could ask the director. Maybe I’m exactly what he’s looking for.” This secret audition was for a movie that would go on to win an Oscar in my past life, which is when the public finally heard about it. A major character was cut from the film because the director couldn’t find the right actor. In my past life, he personally told me that if we had met back then, that role would have been mine. Without Liam Hayes, I can still act. As I expected, Director Davis was extremely satisfied with my performance. After all, in my past life, he would talk to me about this character every time we met. Besides himself, I was probably the person who understood this character best in the world. “Chloe, your acting is excellent. You don’t seem like a newcomer who’s never been on screen before at all.” Director Davis sent me a video on WhatsApp. It was my audition tape. “You are the most naturally gifted person I have ever seen!” “Thank you, Director Davis.” I smiled at my phone. It wasn’t talent; it was a gift from fate. 03 While I successfully landed the role, Mia was still tangled up with Liam Hayes. She stopped going to school altogether, spending every day running around Liam’s hospital room. After all, in her mind, snagging an A-list actor was more important than anything. I decided to take a leave of absence from school first. Once that was sorted, I focused on studying the script, waiting to join the production. “Chloe, you’re not taking a leave of absence to go find Liam, are you?” Mia sneered: “He doesn’t even know you right now, it’s useless even if you go. “Stop struggling. I saved him before you could, he won’t love you anymore.” I was speechless, but I still pretended to be very sad. “I don’t believe it. Liam loves my soul.” Thank goodness I’m a good actor; I can deliver any line with a straight face. Mia looked even more smug. “Just wait and watch me become the Best Actress.” I almost burst out laughing. Mia had no idea that Liam’s car accident had left him with permanent, private damage. He married me in my past life to hide his condition. In exchange, he acted in my directorial debut for free, and I kept his secret. After we married, Liam had zero scandals, which in Mia’s eyes became proof of his love for me. It’s hilarious. He wanted to have scandals, but the equipment was lacking. “Chloe, you’re scared, aren’t you? Scared I’ll take everything from you.” Mia, who had been completely crushed by me in our past life, now had eyes full of malicious glee. I sighed softly. See, opportunities are only for those with brains. Someone like Mia could reverse time a hundred times and still fail a hundred times. Does a fool become smart just by going back in time? How is that possible? It’s not a brain transplant. Every time I see Mia wracking her brain to come up with some petty, spiteful scheme, I marvel at the wonders of creation. But I’ll still play along with her act. I just love watching people I hate run toward their predetermined doom and seeing the agonizing realization on their faces when they learn the truth. Oh, if this were a novel, I’d definitely be the evil step-sister. 04 I didn’t tell anyone I was joining the film production. The day I left home, Mia brought Liam back to the house. She linked arms with him and looked at me haughtily: “Sister, this is Liam, the famous actor.” I didn’t say anything, looking very sad. Liam looked the same as he used to. There was a hint of impatience in his eyes, but he hid it well. In our past life, he treated all the women swarming around him with this exact attitude. It seems Mia didn’t make very good use of her “saving his life” card. Arthur was very pleased with Liam. Like Mia, he warned me: “Stay away from your sister’s man.” I looked at his fat, greasy face, unable to find a single trace of resemblance to myself. If my real father were still alive, what would he look like? I pretended to be devastated and ran out the door. Behind me, Arthur yelled that I was ungrateful and told me never to come back. How is that possible, my dear uncle? Everything you took from my family, I’ll come back and take it all back, one by one. Mia thought I couldn’t handle the blow and ran away from home. She followed Liam onto his film set as a constant companion. Naturally, she didn’t know I had already taken a leave of absence from school. She was probably fantasizing about me crying my eyes out every day since I left. She didn’t know I was on the set right next to Liam’s. I filmed in secret with Director Davis for over half a year before returning to school. And Mia had already been expelled for excessive absences. The day I returned to school, Mia stood at the door, smiling as she watched me leave: “Chloe, going to school is your only option now, right? “Without Liam, how much better are you than me?” I smiled and said nothing. Director Davis had already paid me a portion of my salary. I took the money and consulted a lawyer to see how much of my inheritance I could get back, considering my current relationship with Arthur. The lawyer reviewed my information, thought for a long time, and asked me: “Have you ever considered one thing? “Your parents’ death might not have been that simple?” I froze: “Are you saying Arthur killed my parents?” My parents died in a fire. After they passed, Arthur took me in. Not long after, using the excuse that he didn’t want to leave me with psychological trauma, Arthur moved the whole family to a different city. That was all I had managed to find out before Mia and I returned to when we were twenty. Could it be that the fire that killed my parents was suspicious? 05 The lawyer said that arson is usually committed by someone the victims knew. “I suggest you investigate the fire that killed your parents first. “It’s almost impossible to get your inheritance back now. After twenty years, a lot of information is unverifiable.” His words lingered in my mind. So, the man I called “Dad” for so many years might be the murderer of my biological parents. In my past life, the information I found out said my parents had a great relationship and were deeply in love. The person helping me investigate even sighed and said to me, “Chloe, if your parents were still here, they would definitely love you very much.” They all felt sorry for me. But I’m someone who dislikes hypothetical scenarios. I believe in an eye for an eye. Fantasies solve nothing. Just as the lawyer said, after twenty years, I couldn’t possibly reclaim my inheritance through normal channels. But it didn’t matter. There’s no such thing as a perfect crime. If I peel back the layers and have enough patience, I will eventually get the ending I want. While I began investigating the fire from twenty years ago, paparazzi caught Mia and Liam together. Liam hadn’t responded yet. Mia couldn’t hold back and called me: “Chloe, you must be in so much pain, right? “Liam is planning to get engaged to me, and he even signed my management contract to his studio. “Without Liam’s help, you’re nothing. In this life, just wait to be crushed by me.” No matter what happens, Mia’s lack of intelligence never disappoints me. Is signing a management contract with Liam’s studio a good thing? Isn’t she just giving him complete control over her? “Mia, don’t just sign any contract without thinking.” “I have Liam looking out for me, I don’t need your fake kindness.” I smiled silently. “Mia, why do you hate me so much? In our past life, I tried hard to help you.” “You helped me? Then why didn’t you give your roles to me? Why did I have to start as a minor supporting character!” Obviously because your acting is terrible and you’re too ambitious! She could play a Z-list supporting character and still get dragged by netizens for her awful performance. I had the misfortune of seeing a compilation of her scenes. Every single facial feature landed in places I couldn’t even predict. If Liam is going to push Mia into acting in this life, I can only say the audience is in for a treat. In my past life, I did try to help Mia. I got her on variety shows and arranged roles for her. At the time, I hoped Mia would build a solid foundation. The roles I introduced her to weren’t major, but they were well-crafted. In her eyes, however, this was an insult. After one huge argument, I stopped caring about her entirely. Life is short. I can’t waste my time and kindness on irrelevant people.

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Because I went to the hospital a few times, I was collectively reported to the school board by the parents of my students. “Junior year is the most critical time! As the homeroom teacher, you need to be on call 24/7. Would it kill you to not go to the hospital?” “Even if it’s the weekend, what if we have an emergency and can’t reach you? If you don’t even have that basic level of dedication, why be a homeroom teacher?” “At the end of the day, he’s just selfish. People like him don’t deserve to be teachers!” I was both furious and stunned. For the past two years, I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into a class that ranked dead last, dragging them all the way to number one in the district. I worked myself to the point of chronic illness, yet I didn’t dare take a single sick day because I was terrified it would negatively affect the students. And in the end, I was accused of being selfish? When my students found out I was being reported, they just looked at me with cold indifference. It had nothing to do with them. My heart completely froze. Fine. Whoever wants this homeroom teacher job can have it. A few months later, that same group of parents was standing on my front porch: “Mr. Evans, please, we’re begging you. Please come back.” 01 I got reported. The parents of my entire class signed a joint petition accusing me of “dereliction of duty,” demanding the school immediately strip me of my homeroom teacher title and my position as the AP Calculus instructor. When the principal broke the news to me, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Ever since I took over this class, I had broken my back for them. I worked myself to the bone, always putting the students first. I practically handed them my beating heart on a silver platter. And these parents had the audacity to call me irresponsible?! “The parents in your class are extremely aggressive about this. They said if the school doesn’t meet their demands, they will escalate the complaint directly to the State Department of Education,” the principal said. My face looked terrible. The principal spoke sternly: “Mr. Evans, what you need to do right now is take a good, hard look in the mirror and reflect on your actions. If you were truly doing a flawless job, why would the parents collectively report you?” This was absolutely insane! How was this suddenly my fault? I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the principal waved me off impatiently. “Enough. Go home and wait for the administration’s decision.” Walking out of the principal’s office, my frustration boiled over. Finally, unable to hold it in, I typed a message into the class Parent-Teacher Group Chat. “Parents, since taking on the role of homeroom teacher, I have always put the well-being and academic success of this class first. I won’t claim to be perfect, but I have worked tirelessly. If you feel there are areas where I am lacking, you are always welcome to communicate with me directly. Baseless misunderstandings and accusations only serve to break the hearts of dedicated educators.” A few minutes later, a message popped up. Jacob’s Mom: “Misunderstandings? You think we’re falsely accusing you? A homeroom teacher who runs off to the hospital every other day—do you think that’s appropriate? Who gave you the right? Who gave you that kind of freedom? How are you supposed to focus your energy on the students like that? The final semester of junior year is the most critical time. Would it kill you to not go to the hospital?” That rapid-fire barrage of ruthless accusations left me completely stunned. 02 Two years of insanely high-stress, non-stop work had caused severe damage to my cervical and lumbar spine. Every night, the pain was so agonizing I couldn’t sleep. My doctor strongly advised me to take a prolonged medical leave of absence. But because it was their junior year, I was terrified that bringing in a new homeroom teacher would disrupt the students’ momentum. So, I compromised. I squeezed in time on the weekends to go to the hospital for conservative physical therapy. I told myself I could hold off on taking a real medical leave until after the students graduated. I never in a million years imagined that the parents would report me for this exact reason. I forced myself to reply patiently: “Jacob’s mom, teachers are human too. Getting sick is inevitable. Furthermore, I only go to the hospital on weekends during my personal time. It has never interfered with my responsibilities to the class.” I didn’t expect her next response to be even more unhinged. “Oh, please! ‘Personal time’? You don’t get personal time! You are a teacher, you are a homeroom teacher! You are supposed to be on call 24 hours a day!” Other parents started chiming in, backing her up. Chloe’s Dad: “I agree with Jacob’s mom. If you want to be the homeroom teacher, you need to have the dedication for it. If you can’t handle it, why did you take the job?” Mia’s Dad: “Last semester when you got married, you took three days off in a row. I thought it was completely inappropriate even back then.” Ethan’s Mom: “The only reason we agreed to let you be the homeroom teacher was because you were highly experienced. If we knew you were going to have so much drama and take so much time off, we would have just asked for a younger, newer teacher from the start!” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Parents, my health has indeed taken a hit, but I have never allowed it to delay or negatively impact anything related to this class. For the past two years, no matter how exhausted or in pain I was, I pushed through for the sake of these students. If I really just wanted an easy life, I could have voluntarily stepped down from the homeroom position a long time ago.” Jacob’s Mom fired back: “Cut the crap! You make it sound so noble, but everyone knows it’s all about the money. Everyone knows homeroom teachers get paid a higher stipend than regular teachers.” 03 My blood pressure instantly skyrocketed. In that moment, I genuinely wanted to curse them out. Yes, homeroom teachers do get a slightly higher stipend than regular subject teachers. An extra $15 a semester. Can you believe that? We wake up before the sun and go to sleep long after midnight. We spend seventeen or eighteen hours a day at the school. We have endless administrative meetings, never-ending classroom management duties, piles of paperwork, constant parent feedback to reply to, and weekends consumed by grading and progress reports. Our phones have to be on 24/7 to handle whatever random emergency pops up. If you add it all up, the workload of a homeroom teacher is easily ten times that of a regular subject teacher. Did she really think I was working myself into an early grave for an extra $15?! Did she think I was that desperate? The attacks in the group chat kept coming. “Homeroom teachers don’t just get a higher stipend, they get priority for ‘Teacher of the Year’ awards and promotions. There are plenty of perks!” “No wonder he refuses to step down even when he’s sick… Lol. Honestly, I’m speechless.” “Damn it, if you want to chase a paycheck, fine, but don’t hold our kids back! Do we owe you something?” “Hurry up and resign!” I was so furious I couldn’t even type. If I was just chasing a paycheck, I would have left a long time ago. The elite private prep school in the next district had offered to double my salary to poach me, and I politely declined. Why did I stay? For the students! For their precious little darlings! Ms. Roberts, the English teacher, couldn’t sit back and watch anymore. Ms. Roberts: “Mr. Evans has been working through severe illness out of pure dedication to his students. Instead of showing him a shred of empathy, how can you say such horrible things to him? Do the students’ test scores not prove his dedication?” During my two years leading this class, they had gone from ranking dead last in the district to number one. That was an undeniable fact. The chat went silent for a brief moment. Then, one parent suddenly typed: “That’s because the kids worked hard themselves. It wouldn’t have mattered which teacher they had. It has absolutely nothing to do with him.” Immediately, a wave of agreement flooded the chat. “Exactly! My son studies until midnight every single night. Of course his grades are good when he works that hard!” “The stack of practice workbooks my daughter has completed is almost as tall as she is!” “He really knows how to take credit for other people’s hard work, doesn’t he?” 04 My neck throbbed with a sharp, shooting pain from the stress. The students did work hard, yes. But that was a study habit I forced them to build. To be brutally honest, Class 6 had a terrible foundation, weak fundamentals, and absolutely zero academic drive. If they had been assigned a teacher with even slightly less dedication or capability, they never would have moved an inch. Over the past two years, I pulled countless all-nighters designing personalized, individualized lesson plans for every single student in my class. I sacrificed my daily lunch breaks to provide one-on-one tutoring, usually surviving on a granola bar and a bottle of water. I spent my weekends and holidays offering free, extra tutoring sessions at my house. I spent my own money buying them supplementary study materials and reward prizes. I can say with absolute certainty that I poured more of my heart into my job than any other teacher at this school. And now, this group of parents was saying the students’ success had absolutely nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with me! Furious, I typed: “Since you all believe the students’ grades are entirely the result of their own efforts, then what impact does it have on them if I spend my off-the-clock time dealing with my own personal health issues?” The parents immediately started firing back. “Excuse me? Are test scores the only thing that matters? Let me ask you this: What if my kid doesn’t get enough to eat at lunch? What if they forget to drink water? What if they don’t wear a warm enough jacket and catch a cold? What if they feel sick?” “The kids are already exhausted from studying. The homeroom teacher should be the one taking care of all the janitorial and classroom cleaning duties.” “Late-night study hall ends too late anyway. If you ask me, the homeroom teacher should be responsible for driving the students safely back to their houses.” Ms. Roberts sent me a private text. “These parents have completely lost their minds, haven’t they? Do they think a homeroom teacher is a glorified babysitter?” Watching the messages rapidly scrolling up the screen, my temples throbbed violently. I took a deep breath. Using every last ounce of patience I had, I typed a sincere response: “Parents, we are less than six months away from college entrance exams. I beg you to trust me. Give me this chance, and I promise I will do everything in my power to fulfill my duties as their homeroom teacher until the very end.” Jacob’s mom’s response instantly shattered my final breaking point. “Wow, you really have no shame. Let me guess, you just want to stay so you can take revenge and sabotage our kids’ grades behind our backs, right?!” Jacob’s mom’s response instantly shattered my final breaking point. Fine. Fine. I’m done. I quit. 05 I had spent months developing a comprehensive, individualized Phase 2 and Phase 3 review plan for the entire class. Forty-five distinct, custom-tailored study schedules. Even though I wouldn’t be their homeroom teacher anymore, I still wanted to fulfill my final responsibility and give them this last gift before I left. During the afternoon study hall, I walked into the classroom. The room immediately erupted into groans and complaints. “Damn, why is that packet so thick?” “Every time I open my eyes, it’s just study, study, study. I’m so exhausted, I literally want to throw up.” “He’s taking up our free study period again…” These little brats. So what if you’re tired? What high school junior preparing for college isn’t tired? I was just about to speak when Jacob suddenly asked loudly, “Mr. Evans, if we all get into top-tier universities, do you get a massive cash bonus or something? Like tens of thousands of dollars?” I didn’t process the question immediately. “What?” “Otherwise, why would you work us like dogs every single day? It obviously benefits you somehow. But since you aren’t going to be teaching us anymore anyway, you probably shouldn’t waste your energy.” My face instantly fell. Jacob was the class loudmouth. If he knew something, the entire class definitely knew it too. I looked out at the classroom. Every single face was either annoyed or completely indifferent. Which meant, knowing that they were the reason I was reported, and knowing that the homeroom teacher who had carried them for two years was leaving… not a single one of them showed a shred of sadness or reluctance to see me go. Even more devastating was the realization that my students genuinely believed I was pushing them to succeed for my own selfish gain! In that moment, I didn’t even know how to describe the crushing weight in my chest. I said coldly, “I see. Then you can continue with your free study period.” The exact second I walked out the door, the classroom erupted in cheers. “WOOOO! The Grim Reaper is gone!” “Does this mean we’re finally free?!” “We finally don’t have to be forced to do all those extra packets! Holy shit, do you guys know I literally have nightmares about him?!”

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When I tried to enroll my daughter in our newly purchased $500,000 top-tier school district home, I discovered the address’s school enrollment spot was already taken. And inexplicably, my property deed now listed a seven-year-old boy as a resident. I furiously tracked down the boy’s parents, only for the father to brush me off: “My son’s already been going there for a year. Deal with it. At most, I’ll toss you two grand.” I was losing my mind. While preparing to sue, I used my status as his new legal guardian to transfer his school enrollment to a rundown school in a mountain town a thousand miles away. This time, they were the ones losing their minds. I stood my ground: “He’s registered at my address, which makes him my son. What happens to my son is none of your damn business!” 01 My daughter’s school application was rejected. The reason? The address’s enrollment spot had already been claimed and couldn’t be used again. How was this possible?! It’s my house; wouldn’t I know if the spot was used? I rushed to the elite local elementary school with my deed and demanded to see the enrollment records. The moment I heard the result, it felt like a slap in the face. The records showed the spot had indeed been used last year. Someone had been using my house’s spot to attend school for a whole year. And I had absolutely no idea! I was going crazy. My wife and I, with help from both our parents, had saved for years just to afford the down payment on this $500,000 house in a prime school district. All to give our daughter the best education possible. And now you’re telling me the spot is gone? These enrollment spots only reset every six years. We’d have to wait five more years to use it again. What about my daughter? I demanded the school immediately provide the other parents’ information. But they refused, citing student privacy. “I’m sorry, we can’t give you the parents’ information directly, but we can try contacting them for you.” I swallowed my anger. I told myself to stay calm. A short while later, the school official told me the other party refused to speak with me. “The parent claims their child used their own spot and has no obligation to explain anything to anyone.” My temples throbbed. My face was dark with fury. It was a teacher who finally reminded me that if the house was mine, only my child could use the spot. It took my brain a second to catch up. I immediately drove to the local county clerk’s office. When the clerk pulled up my property records, I froze. There was indeed an extra person registered at my address! 02 It was a seven-year-old boy named Leo Miller. I completely lost it. I demanded to know what the hell was going on. “The system shows Leo Miller was registered at your address last July.” “How is this possible?!” I yelled. “Why is a stranger suddenly registered at my house?” The clerk stammered, “It might just be a clerical error.” “An error? Do you have any idea how much damage this ‘error’ has caused us?!” I was so loud that everyone in the office turned to look. I forced myself to calm down. “I demand you remove this Leo Miller from my address immediately!” “Since it involves a minor, we need a consent form from the new legal guardian.” That made me even angrier. So someone can register their kid at my address without me knowing, but I have no right to remove them unilaterally? The clerk’s office was right next to the police station. I immediately filed a report. I provided all my evidence and stated that the registry change was absolutely not an internal family matter. The police told me to wait while they contacted the family listed on Leo’s original records. Those few minutes felt like years. Eventually, the police told me that Leo’s parents were out of town and we’d have to wait for them to return for questioning. Impossible. They were clearly dodging me! The school enrollment window was closing soon; I couldn’t afford to wait. My anger reached its boiling point. Leaving the station, I called a friend in the education consulting business. I refused to believe this. I have the kid’s name and school; how hard could it be to find his parents? 03 My friend suggested I contact a lawyer first, while he tracked them down. I rushed to a law firm. But after the consultation, my heart sank. The lawyer told me this kind of enrollment fraud wasn’t isolated. Even if I proved they wrongfully used the spot, the compensation I’d get would likely be far less than my actual losses. “A lawsuit takes a long time. I suggest you find another school for your daughter right now, just so she has a place to go.” I was silent. My wife had taken a much harder job just to help with the mortgage. My daughter was so excited, proudly telling everyone she was going to be a first-grader. Our four elderly parents had emptied their savings to help us. How was I supposed to tell them? I was burning with anger but had nowhere to vent it. But regardless of how terrible I felt, I had to act fast. I called my wife. “Honey, I have some bad news. Brace yourself.” Her tone turned serious: “What is it? Don’t scare me.” I explained the situation briefly. Like me, she was furious and panicked: “How could this happen? That’s our spot! They have no right!” “The priority is getting Lily into a school. I’ve already gone to the police and a lawyer. Whoever stole our spot, I won’t let them get away with it!” 04 My wife and I frantically contacted the public schools in our zoned area. But the news plunged us further into despair. Their enrollment was already full. Even the schools we wouldn’t have considered before had closed enrollment. My wife cried, “What are we going to do about Lily’s schooling?” I was silent for a long time. “There’s one other way.” “We wait a year.” And during that time, we fight the lawsuit or use other means to force them to return the spot. But the lawyer had warned that litigation is exhausting and the outcome is rarely satisfactory. If we lost, my daughter wouldn’t just miss out on the elite school; she’d waste a whole year. A massive wave of helplessness washed over me. Then, my friend called. He’d found the address and names of Leo’s parents. I jumped up excitedly: “Who is it?” “The dad’s name is Greg Miller. They live in the Rainbow Apartments, Building 5, Apartment 301.” Rainbow Apartments… that’s right near my house! Perfect. I wanted to see exactly what kind of scum could do something so shameless. Holding my breath, I rushed to Rainbow Apartments. I knocked for a long time before a mean-looking woman with curly hair opened the door. “Who is it?! Knock, knock, knock! Do you know what time it is?!” I kept my temper in check: “Are you Leo Miller’s parent?” “Who are you? What do you want?” I couldn’t help but raise my voice: “Your kid is using my house’s school enrollment spot! What do you think I want?!” The curly-haired woman’s face changed. The next second, she slammed the door in my face. 05 I was so angry I nearly fell backward. I kicked the door hard. “Get out here! Don’t think you can hide from this! Screw you! Aren’t you afraid of karma for doing something like this?!” My yelling alerted the other tenants on the third floor, who peeked out to watch the drama. I didn’t care anymore. In ten minutes, I swore more than I had in my entire thirty-plus years of life. The door to 301 finally opened again. This time, it was a heavy-set man with a face full of flab. The moment he stepped out, he yelled at the nosy neighbors: “What are you looking at?! Keep staring, and I’ll end you!” The neighbors seemed afraid of him. They all obediently shut their doors. I narrowed my eyes: “You’re Greg Miller, right? Have you no shame? How can you sleep at night stealing someone else’s spot?” Compared to my agitation, Greg was surprisingly calm. “I paid someone to get my son into that school. I don’t know how they did it, and I don’t care. Take your complaints somewhere else.” I swore again: “Bullshit! Your son is registered at my address, and you dare claim you didn’t know?” A fleeting look of guilt crossed Greg’s face. “So what do you want?” “Remove your son from my address! Return the spot immediately!” He flatly refused: “Impossible. My son needs an education.” I wanted to punch him. Your son needs an education, but my daughter doesn’t?! Just then, a chubby kid appeared behind Greg, looking exactly like him. This must be Leo. Leo pointed a realistic-looking toy gun at me. “Daddy, I’ll help you shoot the bad guy!” A sharp pain hit the corner of my right eye. Seeing me cover my eye, Leo cheered: “Oh, oh, oh! Gotcha! You’re dead!” 06 I was furious and terrified. A fraction of an inch closer, and that plastic pellet would have blinded me. This wasn’t a joke! But instead of stopping this dangerous behavior, Greg gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s my boy! Good job!” I was so angry I moved to discipline the little brat myself. His wife rushed out and shielded him. Greg pointed a finger in my face: “What do you think you’re doing?! Don’t you dare touch my son!” I was shaking with rage. If murder weren’t a crime, I might have killed him right then and there. Seeing I was on the brink of exploding, Greg suddenly softened his tone: “Look, man, to be honest, my kid has been there for a year already. Compulsory education laws mean they can’t just kick him out. You being upset won’t change anything. Tell you what, I’ll pay you some money, and we call it even. How about two grand? That’s a lot of cash.” Two grand. The audacity. “In your dreams!” Greg’s face darkened: “What, were you expecting twenty grand?” His wife spat at me: “Dressed all nice, but you’re just a filthy extortionist!” I had anticipated various reactions before coming here, but never this level of victim-blaming. Accusing me of extortion? I said, “I’ve already called the cops and a lawyer.” “Do whatever you want! My son is registered at your address, so using the spot is perfectly legal! Even God can’t help you!” “Enough, honey. Don’t waste your breath on him. We’ve been too nice.” The family slammed the door shut. It took me a while to calm down and avoid passing out from anger. Dealing with shameless scumbags like this, legal weapons clearly weren’t enough. It was true; Leo couldn’t be expelled. But the law doesn’t say he can’t be transferred. Early the next morning, I went to the clerk’s office and got a new copy of my property records. Looking at it differently, I was now Leo’s legal guardian. Is it too much for a guardian to send his unruly kid to a rundown mountain town to experience some hardship? 07 I quickly found someone to help me contact new schools. My only requirement: the farther, the better. I finally settled on a school across four states, over a thousand miles away, nestled deep in the mountains. Transportation was incredibly inconvenient. The conditions were exceptionally harsh. The school official was very surprised when I called to transfer a kid from the city. He asked me repeatedly if I was sure. “You need to think this through. Our policies are unique here. Once a student is transferred in, transferring them out is very difficult.” Wasn’t that exactly what I wanted? “Transfer him!” I said firmly. To facilitate the out-of-state transfer, I even did a short-term rental in the local town. Using the lease, my property records, and the transfer application, I smoothly obtained the school’s acceptance letter. There were only a few days left until the school year started. Despite my wife and I trying our best to hide it, my mom noticed something was wrong. “Why have you two been moping around lately?” “Also, the neighbor upstairs went to a parent-teacher meeting today. Didn’t you get the notice?” My daughter hugged me: “Daddy, what class am I in? I want to be in the same class as Emma!” My heart ached. My wife said, “Honey, we can’t hide this from Mom forever. Just tell her.” My mom immediately got anxious: “What are you two hiding?” I looked conflicted: “Mom, Lily… might not be able to start school right now.” “What did you say?!” My mom yelled. My daughter burst into tears: “Daddy, why can’t I go to school? Emma and I promised to be classmates!” After I explained everything, my mom wanted to go confront the Millers immediately, even suggesting we drag them to the Board of Education for an explanation. My daughter cried until she was hoarse. My wife and I spent half the night comforting them before they finally went to sleep. 08 The next day, sporting dark circles under my eyes, I went to the elite elementary school and submitted Leo’s transfer application as his guardian. I had done some digging. This kid wasn’t just a terror at home; his school record was atrocious. Being at the bottom of his class was the least of it. Using his size, he constantly bullied his classmates, openly disrespected and swore at teachers, and repeatedly ignored discipline, resulting in his parents being called in multiple times. But Greg and his wife had no intention of properly disciplining their son. Every time, they caused a scene at the school, claiming that since they sent their son there, educating him was the school’s problem. So the school was eager to get rid of this problem student. However, transfer procedures are complicated and take time. Next, I went back to the law firm. “Mr. Davis, based on the evidence you provided, your chances of winning are very high. We can file the lawsuit today. As for compensation, that will depend on the judge’s ruling.” I didn’t care about the compensation. Even if that awful family was willing to pay, it wouldn’t be the result I wanted, nor would it quell my anger. I suddenly asked the lawyer: “What happens if there’s a custody dispute between a guardian and biological parents?” The lawyer looked at me in surprise but answered seriously: “Generally, courts rule based on the ‘best interests of the child’ principle. This includes comparing financial situations, relationships with the minor, etc. Of course, the minor’s own wishes are also a very important factor.” I was deep in thought. Just then, my wife called. “Honey, it’s bad! Mom got into a fight with the Millers!” 09 I rushed toward Rainbow Apartments, my heart pounding the whole way. I knew exactly how awful that family was. My mom is elderly and has high blood pressure; she can’t handle stress like this. But the scene I arrived at was nothing like what I expected. I thought my mom would be fighting alone against three. Instead, over a dozen elderly men and women were surrounding the Millers, fighting them. Their door, shoe rack, and walls were covered in bright red paint. Greg’s clothes were torn, he had several bloody scratches on his face and neck, and a clump of hair had been ripped from his forehead. His wife was screaming obscenities at the crowd. Only to be slapped hard across the face by an old man with a catheter bag. “I’ve lived a long time and seen plenty of shameless people, but your family takes the cake!” Greg’s wife was stunned by the slap. When she recovered, she lunged at the old man like a madwoman. But the crowd held her back. The old man held up his catheter bag: “Come on! Hit me! You better beat me to death right here! I’ve lived long enough! Taking down two menaces before I go is worth it!” On the other side, my mom was twisting the brat’s ear, scolding him. His smashed toy gun lay on the ground. “You little brat, shooting people in the eye? If your parents won’t teach you, I will!” The kid wailed in pain, crying for his parents. It was utter chaos. My wife was on the sidelines, completely unable to stop them. Greg, red-faced and furious, yelled that he had called the police. Suddenly, my mom sat down on the ground, and the dozen other seniors followed suit in perfect synchronization, groaning in pain. The old man with the catheter bag was the loudest. Greg jumped up and down in anger: “You old farts! Don’t try that fake-injury scam on me!” Then he saw me. All his rage instantly focused on me. 10 “You idiot! Extortion didn’t work, so you sent your mom to cause trouble?!” He pointed at Leo, who was sobbing uncontrollably: “If my son is traumatized because of you, I’ll kill your whole family!” I said coldly: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Your son is registered at my address. Legally, I’m his guardian.” Greg sneered dismissively. “You can talk tough all you want, but no matter whose address he’s at, my son is my son! If you ask him to call you ‘Dad,’ do you think he will?” His wife purposely tried to provoke us: “My son being at your address is actually a favor to you! After all, your family only managed to produce a useless girl! Oh my, what if you two suddenly died one day? My son could inherit your property. Doesn’t that make you mad?” My mom jumped up from the ground. “You bitch! I’ll tear your mouth off!” But no matter how tough my mom is, she’s old, and I was afraid she’d get hurt if a real fight broke out. My wife and I quickly held her back. Then the police arrived. Both sides argued their case, leading to another verbal war. In the end, my mom and her group were given a verbal warning. Greg and his wife were not happy. “Why?! They came to our house to cause trouble! Now all three of us have been assaulted! Our house is ruined! And you’re just going to give them a talking-to?!” The officer said, “There’s a reason for all this, and these are elderly people. What do you want us to do? If you push them too hard and someone has a medical emergency, are you going to take responsibility?” Greg was still furious. As we were leaving, he threatened me: “I was going to pay you off and move his registration when he finished elementary school, but since you had to be a prick, I’m not giving you a dime, and I’m not moving his registration either! I’m going to make your life a living hell!” My mom was still crying angry tears on the way back. “It’s just terrible luck. How could the registration get mixed up and let a scumbag like that take advantage?” I comforted her: “Don’t be sad. I’ll definitely find a way to get the spot back!” 11 The day before school started, Leo’s transfer was finalized. The school notified me I could pick up the transfer certificate anytime. But since his registration was still at my address, the spot wasn’t freed up, and my daughter still couldn’t use it. To distract my daughter and stop my mom from impulsively seeking out the Millers again, I temporarily sent them back to our hometown. The next morning, I deliberately waited early outside the elite elementary school. The entrance was bustling with parents dropping off their kids. I immediately spotted Greg and his son in the crowd. Greg saw me too. He smirked disdainfully: “Are you still trying to cause a scene at the school gate?” Because it was the first day, there were several security guards and teachers maintaining order. Greg patted one of the guards. “That guy is lurking around, and he’s not dropping off a kid. Keep an eye on him!” The guard eyed me suspiciously. Greg shot me a smug look and said loudly to Leo: “Go on in, son! Study hard! Don’t waste our elite school spot!” He seemed certain I would start a fight out of anger. Too bad for him, I disappointed him. I just smiled and watched Leo’s back. As soon as the kid walked in, a female teacher said in surprise: “Leo? I thought you transferred. Why are you here?” Greg heard her. He leaned into the gate and laughed: “Ms. Chen, you must be mistaken.” The teacher was firm: “That’s impossible. The school notified me yesterday that Leo had completed an out-of-state transfer.” “Impossible!” Greg roared, startling the parents and students around him. Ignoring the stares, he asked anxiously: “Ms. Chen, I never transferred my kid!” I cleared my throat. “I did.” 12 Greg turned around, completely bewildered: “What did you say?” I raised my voice: “A week ago, I contacted a new school. Leo’s records have been successfully transferred. I’m here today specifically to pick up his transfer certificate.” All the color drained from Greg’s face. He instinctively retorted: “What right do you have to transfer my son?” I said confidently: “Because I’m his legal guardian!” Leo, seemingly missing a few brain cells, suddenly asked excitedly: “Daddy, does that mean I don’t have to go to school?” Greg was already furious, and hearing this made him explode. He slapped Leo on the forehead: “You idiot, why are you laughing! You wouldn’t even know if someone sold you!” I said softly to Leo: “Come here, kid. This school has nothing to do with you anymore. Your new school is over a thousand miles away. Let’s go home and pack!” Greg’s eyes shifted from confusion to disbelief, and from disbelief to sheer rage. “Motherfucker!” He roared and lunged at me. The surrounding students were terrified and scattered, screaming. The parents turned pale and quickly shielded their children. Thanks to Greg’s earlier “warning,” the security guards had been watching me the whole time. Seeing Greg strike first, they reacted swiftly. Before Greg’s hands even reached me, they had him pinned down. His face was contorted, like a vicious dog on a chain, barking at me: “Who the hell do you think you are?! What gives you the right to transfer my son! Transfer him back right now, motherfucker!” I said nonchalantly: “You better get your facts straight. Leo is registered at my address. The paperwork clearly states he’s my son. What happens to my son is none of your damn business!”

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I was reborn along with Arthur, but he had no idea. He thought I was still the same love-struck, delusional girl from our past life. The girl who provided him with the best of everything, sent him to the finest university, and supported his startup even if it meant driving my own family into bankruptcy. And in return? Once he had drained every drop of my usefulness, he kicked me to the curb. To add insult to injury, he brought my lifelong nemesis to my face just to tell me he “finally didn’t have to endure the humiliation of my money anymore.” Reborn, I swore I wouldn’t give him a single rusty penny. When it came time to select a student for our corporate scholarship program, he stood in front of me, arrogant and brimming with confidence. But I looked right past him and chose the quiet, battered kid standing next to him. 01 It was the annual charity gala, and I was attending as the representative for the Sterling Corporation. To show our dedication to philanthropy, every year we selected one exceptional student from the applicant pool for a full-ride, one-on-one mentorship and financial sponsorship, handled directly by our executive team. In my past life, this was the exact moment I laid eyes on Arthur and chose him immediately. Unfortunately, he turned out to be an ungrateful parasite. This time, before I arrived, I made sure to invite Chloe. She was my rival—and Arthur’s long-time crush. In our previous life, Arthur had told me more than once that long before I ever sponsored him, Chloe had been secretly in love with him. He claimed that my money had been the only thing standing in the way of their true love. Well, this time, I wanted to see if Chloe would even spare him a passing glance before he became the “Sterling Corporation’s Golden Boy.” When Chloe and I arrived at the grand hall, the administrators and applicants were already gathered. There were over a hundred students crowding the room. I spotted Arthur instantly. I had to admit, purely from an aesthetic standpoint, my past self had good taste. He was over six feet tall, lean, with striking features and pale skin. Standing among a crowd of plainly dressed, underprivileged students, Arthur stood out like a swan among a flock of ducks. Sensing my gaze, Arthur straightened his posture and tilted his chin up even higher. I knew he was reborn, just like me. I wondered how the former billionaire CEO Arthur was adjusting to suddenly waking up as a broke, struggling teenager again. And I was incredibly curious to see how he would react when his most hated enemy humiliated him today. I walked in with a bright, enthusiastic smile. The university officials were incredibly warm, constantly thanking the Sterling Corporation for giving these students a chance to focus on their studies without financial terror. See? Even strangers knew how to be grateful. But simply because I loved him, Arthur had twisted all my sacrifices into a personal insult. Well, this time, I was revoking that love. I hope he’s satisfied. I offered a few polite, humble remarks about corporate social responsibility. Then, it was time for the main event. The university had pre-screened the applicants based on GPA, awards, and extracurriculars, presenting me with a shortlist of ten candidates. I had to choose one for the full-ride sponsorship. I sat at the head of the conference table. The coordinator lined the candidates up to introduce themselves to me one by one. They were all exceptional kids. Their only limitation was a lack of financial resources holding them back from their true potential. Our sponsorship was designed to be the boat that carried them across that first impossible river. The students looked at me with gratitude and burning hope. Everyone knew the one-on-one sponsorship came with massive networking resources and a golden ticket to a brighter future. Soon, it was Arthur’s turn. He really was brilliant. He consistently ranked in the top ten of his class and had a resume packed with state and national academic awards. The coordinator clearly favored him and prompted him to say a few words to make a strong impression on me. But Arthur didn’t play along. He just stared at me coldly and said a flat, “Hello.” The coordinator’s face darkened. Arthur couldn’t care less. He looked at me with an expression of pure, arrogant disdain. In my past life, after hearing his resume, I had bypassed the rest of the candidates and immediately selected him on the spot. He was definitely expecting me to do the exact same thing today. Too bad for him. I turned to the coordinator. “No need to force him. Let’s move on and meet the next student.” Arthur froze, clearly not expecting to be dismissed so quickly. He didn’t move. The coordinator immediately ushered him along. “Arthur, please step aside. We don’t want to waste Ms. Sterling’s time.” Arthur shot me an icy glare before turning on his heel and walking away. See? If I don’t choose you, you aren’t even qualified to stand in front of me. I didn’t even spare him a second glance, focusing my attention on the next candidate. After listening to all ten presentations, I chose a boy named Liam. He didn’t have a laundry list of flashy extracurricular awards, but his GPA was flawlessly ranked number one year-round. He was also the only student with a visible, fading bruise on his face. Rumor had it his alcoholic father beat him regularly. He didn’t seem to harbor any hope of being chosen. It wasn’t until I announced his name that he looked up at me with his dull, lifeless eyes and quietly muttered, “Thank you.” Arthur, unable to accept the loss, sneered loudly from the back of the room. “Just a mindless bookworm.” Liam’s lips pressed into a tight line, but he didn’t say a word. I, however, had absolutely no intention of letting that slide. “Excuse me, applicant. Are you verbally bullying your peer?” I asked, my voice dropping to a freezing temperature. Arthur looked at me in genuine shock, before his face morphed into a subtle, smug expression that clearly said: Ah, I see. You’re just doing this to get my attention. I wanted to vomit. Arthur just put on his best aloof, unbothered persona. “I was just stating a fact.” “So, you don’t believe your behavior is inappropriate?” I didn’t even bother engaging with him further. I turned directly to the university officials. “This is the caliber of candidates you shortlisted? “I seriously question the moral character of this selection pool. “The Sterling Corporation sponsors future leaders who will pass this kindness forward. “If this student treats his peers with such arrogance and cruelty now, I highly doubt he will ever extend a helping hand to those in need when he gains power.” I threw the book at him, aggressively escalating it into a moral issue. Having lived this life once before, I refused to waste my charity on a parasite. As expected, my words threw the administration into a panic. The coordinator immediately jumped in, demanding Arthur apologize to Liam, threatening to revoke his eligibility for any future financial aid if he refused. Arthur glared at me with furious indignation. I didn’t even look at him. Didn’t you say my money was an insult to your dignity? Let’s see if the great CEO Arthur is willing to swallow his pride and beg me for a few thousand bucks of ‘humiliation’ today. “I will not apologize.” Arthur stood his ground. “Don’t think you can use your money to force me to bow my head. “One day, I will show you exactly what I’m capable of! Don’t underestimate a man just because he’s poor today!” Arthur delivered his self-righteous, cinematic monologue. Everyone in the room just stared at him in profound silence. So, me choosing not to give you free money means I’m bullying you? What an absolute, staggering ego. The awkward silence was broken by the sudden, slow clapping of hands. It was Chloe. She clapped as she walked over to stand beside me. “What an incredibly principled young man. You shouldn’t be so harsh on him, Chloe.” Chloe played the manipulative “pick-me” card perfectly, trying to paint me as an elitist bully picking on a poor student. Arthur’s eyes lit up the second he saw her. In his head, he was probably scripting a romantic movie scene where his fragile, secret crush bravely stood up against the evil billionaire to defend his honor. Unfortunately for him, I saw the smug, mocking smirk hiding in the corner of Chloe’s mouth. She was just using Arthur as a pawn to annoy me. I wasn’t the naive idiot I used to be. I wasn’t going to let her play the saint at my expense. “But he was the one who refused to apologize first,” I pointed out, shooting Arthur a look of pure disdain. Predictably, he tilted his chin up defensively and glared at me. “I did nothing wrong.” I let out an exaggerated, theatrical sigh. “The Sterling Corporation absolutely refuses to sponsor candidates who create toxic, hostile environments for their peers. “However—” I pivoted sharply. “Since you are so impressed by this young man’s principles, Chloe, why doesn’t your family sponsor him?” The moment those words left my mouth, Arthur’s eyes sparkled with desperate hope as he looked at Chloe. Chloe, however, choked on her words. Her face contorted awkwardly. She finally mumbled a vague excuse, “I… I’ll have to discuss it with my family.” Heh. She was a neglected, illegitimate daughter from a minor branch of her family. She couldn’t secure a five-dollar loan if she tried. But seeing the arrogant smirk on Arthur’s face—clearly believing that even without me, he had Chloe to back him up—I simply grabbed some mental popcorn and took a seat. I was incredibly excited to see how far Arthur would get this time without the Sterling family’s bottomless bank accounts. 02 Liam and I both enrolled at Columbia University. Arthur ended up at a local state college. His grades were originally high enough for Columbia. But the state college offered him a massive financial aid package, incredibly cheap room and board, and a monthly living stipend. Liam and I bumped into Arthur on the street one day. His eyes swept over Liam dismissively from head to toe, and he scoffed. “Gold-digging toyboy.” This exact scenario had played out in my past life too. Back then, I was obsessed with him. I found every excuse in the book to hang around him. Rumors started spreading that he had latched onto the Sterling heiress and was set for life. One day, while I was waiting in line with him at the cafeteria, a guy passing by muttered “sugar baby.” Arthur’s face instantly turned black. While the guy swaggered away laughing, Arthur spun around and violently slapped my lunch tray out of my hands, screaming at me to stay the hell away from him. Greasy food splattered all over my clothes. The entire cafeteria stopped and stared at me. Even now, I can remember the suffocating, agonizing humiliation of that moment. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. I deeply regretted not slapping him across the face right then and there. What an absolute piece of trash. Someone insulted him, and he took his bruised ego out on me. And now, he was mercilessly insulting the guy who had taken his place. I was just about to rip into him when Liam stepped forward, staring dead into Arthur’s eyes. “You’re jealous of me.” It wasn’t a question. It was a flat, objective statement delivered with chilling clarity. Arthur took a step back, desperately trying to maintain his composure. “Why the hell would I be jealous of you?” Liam took another step forward. “You’re jealous that I got into Columbia, and you didn’t. “You’re jealous that Chloe chose me, and she didn’t choose you. “You’re jealous that I’m the one standing next to her right now, and you aren’t.” A lethal, three-strike combo. I honestly wanted to give Liam a standing ovation. Arthur was completely outmatched. After all, he couldn’t exactly claim he chose state college because he thought Columbia was beneath him. In the end, all he could do was mutter a pathetic “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” and scurry away. Only then did Liam drop his aggressive, intimidating aura and step quietly back to my side like an obedient puppy. “You aren’t mad?” I asked. “I know it isn’t true,” Liam replied simply. Perfect. At least the guy I picked this time was mentally stable, unlike the last one who turned into a rabid dog over a single stray comment. 03 I thought after an absolute humiliation like that, a guy with an ego as massive as Arthur’s wouldn’t show his face around me for a very long time. I severely underestimated his shamelessness. While I was studying in the library, he tracked me down. “Chloe, I’m giving you the opportunity to invest in my new clean-energy tech startup. “If you give me $5 million, I’ll give you 0.1% of the founder’s equity.” Arthur stood in front of my desk, planting both hands on the table, staring down at me with absolute authority. His eyes were a perfectly calibrated mix of 30% mockery, 30% indifference, 30% coldness, and 10% charity. It was an aura of pure, unadulterated “Billionaire CEO.” But who the hell pitches a venture capital investment like an absolute psycho? I kicked the leg of the table hard and shoved my chair back, standing up. “You’re standing too close to me.” Arthur’s hand slipped, and he stumbled awkwardly before catching his balance. Good. His “Alpha Male” aura was still leaking, but at least it wasn’t suffocating me anymore. The students studying nearby shot us annoyed glares. I bowed my head apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry. This guy from another school was harassing me, and I couldn’t hold it in.” “Who the hell said I was harassing you?!” Arthur yelled. Instantly, several large, athletic guys sitting nearby stood up, glaring at Arthur. Arthur instantly deflated. “It’s a misunderstanding. Just a misunderstanding.” I signaled that I was fine, and the guys sat back down. Arthur leaned in close, gritting his teeth in a furious whisper. “Chloe, do not push your luck.” I shrugged, showing him his threats meant absolutely nothing to me. Furious but lacking options, Arthur forced himself to negotiate. “Chloe, think this through. “If you don’t invest in my company now, when your family’s empire collapses, don’t blame me for not giving you a lifeline.” Arthur looked down at me from his imaginary pedestal, looking exactly like a benevolent god staring down at an ant. In that moment, everything clicked. Right. In my past life, to fund his startup, I threw a suicidal tantrum and forced my family to liquidate every cent of our cash reserves to invest in him. Because of the massive cash drain, our company almost went bankrupt. It was only when his core technology finally achieved a major breakthrough that he secured series B funding and pulled my family out of the crisis. No wonder he always acted so arrogant and superior around me. He genuinely believed he was the savior of my family. But if I hadn’t drained our entire cash flow to fund him in the first place, we never would have faced bankruptcy at all! A guy like him… even reborn, he only remembered the parts of history that glorified him. The actual facts and context? Completely irrelevant. Now that I understood his psychotic mental gymnastics, I was going to be even more ruthless. “You want an investment? Show me your corporate incorporation documents. “Where is your engineering team? “Where is your business plan? “Where are your projected ROI reports?” A rapid-fire barrage of basic questions. Arthur couldn’t answer a single one. I looked at him with pure, unadulterated contempt. “You show up here with absolutely nothing and demand my money? “Based on what? “That pretty face of yours?” I genuinely just wanted to insult him. But his brain must have gone to a very weird place, because he looked at me with an expression of deeply offended, violated modesty. “Chloe Sterling, don’t think that just because you have a little money you can do whatever you want! “I will never, ever submit to you! “If you won’t invest, fine! “I’ll wait for the day you come crawling back, begging me.” Then he literally jogged out of the library in a huff. It looked bizarrely like a Victorian maiden fleeing a scandalous proposition. But God as my witness, I literally just didn’t want to give him my money. Somehow, Arthur still managed to secure funding. Rumor had it Chloe used her connections to secure a $500,000 seed investment for him, taking 51% of the equity in his newly formed startup. Arthur became an instant legend at his state college. He was enrolled in their prestigious education program, but those classes were completely useless for his tech startup. So, he simply stopped going to class. When a professor criticized him for slacking off, he arrogantly snapped back, asking the professor how many decades of teaching it would take to earn the half-million dollars he just secured in funding. After that, no one at the school bothered to discipline him again. I knew exactly what Arthur’s startup project was. He was a smart guy. In his past life, he entered the electric vehicle sector, specifically focusing on extending battery life and efficiency. Back then, I loved him, so naturally I thought he was a misunderstood genius. I used my family’s massive influence to pull strings and get him accepted into Columbia’s elite Energy Science and Engineering program. He spent four years laser-focused on his studies in a world-class environment, and during his Master’s, he co-founded his company with his thesis advisor. But now? He was just a freshman at a mid-tier state college. Even with his memories of the future, he had spent years sitting behind a CEO’s desk, completely detached from the actual front lines of R&D. Could a washed-up CEO really single-handedly develop revolutionary battery technology from scratch? I couldn’t wait to watch the train wreck. 04 Arthur assembled his startup team. He hunted down the people who had co-founded his company in our past life. Unfortunately for him, only the guys who were currently broke and desperate enough to listen to his sales pitch actually joined him. As for his genius thesis advisor from our past life? I heard he refused to even take a meeting with Arthur. Obviously. He was a globally recognized titan in his field. Why the hell would he entertain a pitch from a random freshman at an unrelated state college? I, however, took a different approach. Leveraging my status as an alum, and armed with $3 million in venture capital, I happily finalized a partnership with that exact professor. And I slipped Liam into his lab as a research assistant while I was at it. He was majoring in the exact same field anyway. Getting him early access to an elite R&D team and setting him up for a seamless Ph.D. track? Win-win. Shortly after joining the lab, Liam started sharing the gossip his upperclassmen had about Arthur. For example, Arthur had marched into a meeting and commanded: “I want a complete dossier on every single one of our competitors on my desk in three minutes.” One of the grad students painstakingly opened an industry database, typed in a flurry of commands, and hit a paywall requiring an expensive corporate subscription to proceed. He turned the monitor around to face Arthur. Arthur’s intimidating, billionaire-CEO aura instantly vanished the second he saw the price tag. It cost $30,000 a year. To the Arthur of his past life, backed by the Sterling family’s endless wealth, those reports were just a few clicks away. But in this life, he was getting a brutal reality check on exactly how expensive raw, actionable market data truly was. He obviously didn’t pay for the subscription. An hour later, Arthur tossed a list of target companies to the team and told them to manually scrape the internet for product specs. But after hours of searching, they found barely anything. One of the companies on his list hadn’t even been incorporated yet. When the student tried to hand in the pathetic results, Arthur screamed in his face for half an hour, yelling that these were industry titans and it was impossible that there was no data on them. Terrible pay, psychotic demands. The student snapped, got into a screaming match with Arthur, and quit on the spot. When he returned to Columbia, he vented to Liam and the rest of the lab, saying Arthur didn’t have the destiny of a CEO, but he definitely had the mental illness of one. I thought that summary was absolutely flawless. Arthur had always been arrogant. In our past life, his smooth, meteoric rise to success was entirely because I was paving his path with the Sterling Corporation’s limitless resources. He needed data? My corporate strategy department held platinum subscriptions to every major database in the world. He needed a business plan? I had a dozen elite project managers draft individual sections, compiled it, and let Arthur present it as his own. He needed a technological breakthrough? A lab full of brilliant, exhausted engineers pulled 80-hour weeks for months to secure the patents… and put Arthur’s name as the lead inventor. Those were the people who forged the halo that made Arthur look like a brilliant tech visionary and a billionaire prodigy. But he was so narcissistic he genuinely believed he was the sun, radiating light all on his own. And the old me had been so utterly blind and love-struck that I actually believed he was a diamond buried in the rough.

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On the day of my shotgun wedding to Liam Vance, his childhood friend cried and asked him: “If she and I ever get into a fight in the future, whose side will you take?” Liam impatiently told her she was being ridiculous. Yet, he sided with her every single time. When his childhood friend orchestrated a cyberbullying campaign against herself, Liam was convinced I was the mastermind and forced me to issue a public apology across all platforms. “Mia, when you do something wrong, you have to apologize.” But he didn’t know. Every apology was a countdown to our separation. Once I completed the final three forced-apology plot points, I could detach from the system and go home. 01 Popular actress Chloe Sterling was accused of being a homewrecker, interfering in my relationship with Liam Vance. That same day, she stormed into my studio and slashed my wrist. Just as my manager, Sarah, grabbed Chloe to call the police, Liam arrived. The moment he walked in, Chloe started crying pitifully: “Liam, everyone online is attacking me. Can you ask Mia to clear things up for me?” Everyone knew she was the childhood friend Liam had spoiled since they were kids. Every time she framed me and cried, Liam always assumed it was my fault. Sarah realized this too, her face turning pale with anger: “Based on one photo, why are you assuming it’s Mia’s doing?” The photo exposing Chloe was plastered all over the internet. In the photo, Chloe was on her tiptoes, trying to lean in and kiss Liam. Coincidentally, I had a very similar photo on my phone. So, Chloe insisted I was framing her. I looked up at Liam, about to explain, but he grabbed my wrist. He usually maintained a calm, indifferent demeanor. But when his eyes fell on my bandaged wrist, he frowned. “Does it hurt?” The warmth of his fingertips transferred through the gauze. Maybe the pain was making me delusional. In that moment, I almost thought Liam was going to believe me this time. But the next second, Liam let out a soft chuckle. “If you knew it would hurt, why did you do it?” My heart dropped, sinking lower with his words. I slowly looked up, meeting Liam’s gaze. I saw the blatant mockery in his dark eyes. “Mia.” He pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Why can’t you just learn to behave?” 02 Liam still didn’t believe me. He was convinced I had posted the photo out of jealousy. He demanded I apologize and clear her name across all platforms. As soon as he finished speaking, a dead silence fell over the studio. I didn’t look up, but I felt numerous eyes on me. Relying on Liam’s backing, Chloe had stolen many roles and endorsements from me over the years. My current position in the industry was already precarious. Stepping forward to apologize now would completely ruin my career. Liam knew this better than anyone, but he showed no mercy. I looked up at him, my nose stinging uncomfortably. “So from the very beginning, you came here to interrogate me on her behalf.” From the moment he walked through the door, I had clung to a sliver of hope. Thinking that after being by his side for five years, he would stand by me just once. But he never did. Liam was now a prominent figure everyone in the city looked up to. His features hadn’t changed much from five years ago. His downcast eyes always seemed to carry a hint of tenderness. “I don’t play favorites,” he looked at me, enunciating every word. “Mia, when you do something wrong, you must make amends.” There’s that phrase again. But Liam. What gives you the right to condemn me so easily? The system sighed, unable to watch: [I told you not to invest real feelings when doing missions!] [Just endure it a little longer. Only three apology missions left, Host.] Seven years ago, I was pulled into this world. The only way home was to play the role of the long-suffering original wife and complete the idiotic forced-apology plot missions. And now, I was only three away. The sudden ringing of a phone shattered the silence. Sarah answered it. But the next second, all the color drained from her face. “Mia,” Sarah looked up at me, her voice strained. “The Best Actress award… they changed the winner.” My throat tightened. “…What?” 03 This was the award I had spent seven years fighting tooth and nail for, risking my life. For one close-up shot, I stayed in freezing water during winter for over forty takes, leaving me with severe lingering health issues. After being nominated and losing for three consecutive years, I thought my hard work was finally going to pay off this time. Chloe slowly peeked out from behind Liam, her eyes curving into a smile at me. “Sorry, Mia.” “I forgot to tell you.” “Liam said this year’s Best Actress award is my birthday present.” A loud ringing filled my head. I looked at Liam, suddenly unable to say a word. Chloe’s sweet, syrupy voice kept drilling into my ears. “I actually told him I didn’t really need it, but Liam insisted on giving it to me…” I couldn’t listen anymore. I grabbed whatever was nearby and hurled it at them. Chloe hid behind Liam in fear. Liam stood in front of her, frowning, “Stop making a scene.” “Stop making a scene, did you hear me?!” I didn’t want to lose face like this, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I knew I must look ugly and ridiculous right then. I looked at Liam and asked him: “What gives you the right? I risked my life for that. What gives you the right to just give it to Chloe?” Not expecting such a huge reaction from me, Liam was stunned. “It’s just one award. I’ll get you a more prestigious one next time, okay?” “Stop crying.” … But Liam, I don’t have a next time. Then, as you wish, I’ll apologize. That way, I can quickly finish the plot and return to my own world. 04 I typed out the clarification post word by word while crying. A few hundred words with only one core message: I was jealous of Chloe and maliciously took a misleading photo to deceive the public. After posting it, overwhelming abuse flooded my feed. [So disgusting. She staged a fake photo to create drama for herself.] [Our Chloe has always said she doesn’t plan on getting married. Besides, they’ve been platonic childhood friends for over twenty years. Stop acting crazy and throwing dirt, old lady.] [Mia is not that kind of person! I’ve been her fan for years, I know her better than you do. Mia, if you’re being threatened, change your profile picture!] [Stop trying to clean up her image. No one cares. I hope old lady Mia and her brain-dead fans go to hell.] … My vision suddenly went dark. Liam had returned at some point. He blocked the screen, preventing me from reading further. “If it’s just meaningless talk, don’t take it to heart.” “Just get through tonight, and I’ll suppress the trending topics.” I didn’t say a word. The living room was completely quiet. Liam reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I explained the photo to you at the time. Chloe was drunk.” “I’ve always seen Chloe as a little sister. You don’t need to keep making things difficult for her.” Liam seemed to have never considered that Chloe was the one who provoked me first. He had never believed me. I looked up at Liam. Suddenly, I wondered. If he knew I was innocent. If he knew that every apology accelerated my departure. What kind of expression would he have? 05 The second-to-last apology came very quickly. Sarah couldn’t stand seeing me bullied and publicized my marriage certificate with Liam. She even added thousands of words detailing how Chloe had been causing trouble. To the public, Liam and I had always just been dating. Dropping this massive bombshell instantly shifted public opinion. People love drama. They don’t really care about what’s true or false. Many rushed to Chloe’s social media accounts, cursing her out. I found out about this late at night. I had been severely ill for the past few days. In my feverish haze, I felt someone push the door open. In the darkness, my eyes met Liam’s. In that moment, I felt a sudden disorientation. In the past, when I was sick, Liam would be so worried he couldn’t sleep all night. Drifting between sleep and wakefulness, I would see Liam sitting by my bed, watching me. Even an arrogant rich kid like him would get red-rimmed eyes from distress in the middle of the night. But now, he looked at me quietly, a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you orchestrate Sarah’s post?” His cold fingers combed through my hair, the chill making me shiver. He asked me with a smiling tone: “Do you know what I’ve been busy with these past few days? I’ve been busy winning the auction for that limited-edition necklace you wanted.” “But what did you do?” “Mia, will you only be satisfied when Chloe is dead?” I propped myself up, my eyes full of confusion. Liam had no intention of giving me a chance to explain. He dragged me, still running a fever, to the hospital. It was only when he pushed open the hospital room door that I found out. Chloe had slit her wrists. 06 Lying in the hospital bed, she burst into tears the moment she saw me: “I never wanted to fight with you for anything.” “Mia, why won’t you just let me go?” She sobbed incoherently: “When I’m discharged… tonight, I’ll leave this city. I won’t appear around Liam ever again.” My head was spinning, and it took me a long time to react. …It’s these same cheap tricks again. Yet Liam believed them implicitly. In the beginning, I used to be so upset I couldn’t sleep, explaining things to Liam over and over again. He seemed to side with me, but whenever he spoke, he always favored Chloe. He always said making me apologize was for my own good. But it felt like he never actually believed me. Later, I started fighting with Liam. By the end of every argument, all that was left was resentment. Gradually, I began to realize that compared to me, Liam instinctively trusted the childhood friend he had spoiled since they were kids. No one could intrude on the bond between them. A wave of exhaustion deeply enveloped me. I asked him numbly, “How do you want me to apologize this time?” “Is it ‘you must make amends for doing something wrong’ again?” “Or an eye for an eye? Want to cut me again?” Liam’s eyes were complex. He reached out and rolled down my pushed-up sleeve, his voice somewhat helpless: “Stop talking nonsense.” I quietly waited for his next words. Like waiting for the final blade of execution. “I’ve thought about it carefully. We still need to minimize the chances of you two interacting.” Liam looked at me. “Mia, retire from the entertainment industry.” “You can do whatever you want in the future.” “I’ll…” A sharp slap interrupted Liam’s words. I pulled my hand back, my fingertips tingling. Liam’s head was turned to the side from the force of my slap. He turned his head back to look at me, finishing his sentence as if nothing had happened: “I’ll be right here with you.” 07 “Absolutely not!” An urgent, panicked voice rang out. Sarah, who had rushed over, stood in the doorway. She must have come in a hurry; her chest was heaving. “I did this on my own. Don’t make things difficult for Mia.” Sarah had always been strong, but that day, she stood in front of me and cried. She stared at Liam, incredibly sad. “I can’t stand seeing Mia suffer like this.” “Piece by piece, you’ve shown enough favoritism toward Chloe over the years.” “It wasn’t easy for Mia to get to where she is now.” “Could you at least… just once… choose to stand by her side?” 08 Liam ultimately didn’t change his mind. Before long, I would be completely blacklisted and hidden away. On the way back with Sarah, a sudden autumn rain began to fall. The cold wind felt like it was drilling into my bones. Sarah frantically tried to hold an umbrella over me. But the rain came too fast, and we still got mostly soaked. The wet clothes clung to my body, cold and sticky. I stared silently at my soaked cuffs. It felt like just a sudden downpour, but it seemed like these past seven years had all been this damp and cold. 09 The mission progress reached 99%. Just one last apology, and I could go home. I started packing my final belongings, giving whatever I could to Sarah. Sarah stared at me blankly. “What are you doing? Don’t do anything stupid.” “Didn’t Liam say he’d support me? I’ll spend his money, and I’ll use his money to support you.” I placed a bank card in Sarah’s hand. “Keep this safe for me.” “Mia, no matter what happens, I’m here.” “If you’re unhappy, come find me. Worst case, just divorce him.” I turned to walk back, waving at Sarah. If I had known that would be the last time I saw her, I would have said a few more words and given her a proper goodbye. 10 The sky was overcast when I left Sarah’s place. It looked like a heavy rain was about to pour. After picking up the custom watch from the store, I texted Liam as I walked back. [Birthday present. Come home early.] Liam replied very quickly, a low chuckle in his voice note: “Okay. Don’t trick me again today.” After I was blacklisted, Liam practically stuck to my side, inseparable. I called him disgusting. I found excuses to mess with him time and time again. Liam got quite angry. But I didn’t plan on messing with him this time. Today was his birthday. I wanted to use this birthday present to negotiate a better position for Sarah. After I leave, she’ll truly be alone. But I seem to have terrible luck. The more I want to do something, the less likely it is to happen. I was kidnapped.

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I was supposed to open the floor with a dance with my fiancée at my twenty-fourth birthday gala. I headed toward the private lounge to find her, my heart light, my mind rehearsing the steps. I never made it through the door. Instead, I froze at the threshold, the sound of her laughter drifting through the crack, sharp as a razor. It was her best friend, Brooke, speaking first. “Honestly, Patricia, I get that you’re using the Sterling family’s influence to climb the social ladder, but why do you have to humiliate Timothy at his own birthday party every single year? It’s been five years straight.” Brooke’s voice took on a mock-pitiful tone. “Watching the heir to the Sterling fortune being mocked as a ‘lapdog’ by every trust-fund brat in the city… don’t you feel even a little bit sorry for him?” My fiancée, Patricia, replied with a casual, airy nonchalance that made my blood run cold. “I mean, I feel a little bad,” she said. “But what can I do? Jax is a brat. I lost a bet to him years ago. We agreed I’d make Timothy look like a fool at every birthday gala for six years. Not a day less, or Jax won’t let it go.” She sighed as if it were a minor inconvenience, like a parking ticket. “Besides, Timothy is the golden boy of the richest family in the state. Even if he loses a bit of face, no one is actually going to do anything to him.” She paused, her voice softening. “This is the sixth year. The debt is paid. Next year, I’ll actually propose to him at the gala. I’ll make it up to him then.” Then came the sound of metal clicking. Through the gap, I saw her unfastening the sapphire cufflinks from her own French cuffs. She traced the intricate, custom engravings with her thumb—the ones I had stayed up nights designing for her. “I’m going to give these to Jax’s dog, King,” she said, a playful smile touching her lips. “He’s such a little gentleman. I want to see the look on Jax’s face when his Golden Retriever is better dressed than the birthday boy.” Brooke gasped. “You’re giving Timothy’s engagement gift to a dog?” Patricia’s laugh was indulgent. “It’s just a little gift to keep Jax happy. If I don’t knock Timothy down a peg once in a while, Jax gets so moody.” I didn’t stay to hear the rest. I turned and walked away, the opulence of the hallway suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. I remembered what my grandmother told me when I first stepped into the CEO’s office. She had sat me down, her eyes sharp as flint. “Timothy,” she’d said, “a man in our position is allowed to be weak for love exactly five times in his life. Five times you can let your heart override your head. On the sixth time, you aren’t being romantic—you’re being a fool.” This was the sixth year. I had watched the woman I loved give my heart, my dignity, and now my hand-crafted designs to a dog. The engagement was over. I just hadn’t told her yet. 1. Ten minutes later, the gala officially began. I stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, my tailored cream suit fitting perfectly, though my chest felt hollow. I looked down at the sea of Manhattan’s elite. Patricia was seated at the head table, looking radiant. Beside her sat Jax, dressed in a loud, crimson suit that practically screamed for attention. A large Golden Retriever was circling their feet, wagging its tail. “King, come here,” Patricia cooed, beckoning the dog. Under the watchful eyes of the entire room, Patricia reached into her clutch and pulled out a silver chain. She threaded it through the deep blue sapphire cufflinks—my cufflinks—and fastened it around the dog’s collar. The stones caught the chandelier light, pulsing with a mocking blue glow. Everyone in that room recognized those cufflinks. They were the symbol of our commitment, the prototype for our wedding bands. “He looks great,” Jax smirked, leaning into Patricia’s space, his shoulder brushing hers. “Look, Patricia. Doesn’t he look like a real little gentleman now?” “He really does,” Patricia said, ruffling the dog’s fur. Her gaze drifted up and found me at the top of the stairs, her smile carrying a hint of smug triumph. In years past, I would have been furious. I would have caused a scene, demanding Jax show some respect. And Patricia would have publicly scolded me for being “immature” and “insecure,” forcing me to apologize to her and her ‘best friend’ by the end of the night. But tonight, the fire was out. There was only ash. I took a deep breath, adjusted my lapels, and walked down the stairs. My leather shoes clicked rhythmically against the marble. The crowd parted instinctively, sensing a shift in the air they couldn’t quite name. I walked straight to Patricia. Jax’s smirk faltered for a second, and he took a half-step behind her. Patricia immediately bristled, leaning forward as if to shield him. “Timothy, it’s your birthday,” she whispered sharply, a warning in her eyes. “Don’t make this ugly.” I didn’t even look at her. I looked at the dog. “The cufflinks have a nice weight to them,” I said, my voice steady and conversational. “They actually complement the leather of the collar quite well.” Patricia froze. Jax’s grin turned into a confused mask. “What did you say?” Patricia asked, her voice dropping an octave. “I said, they look good on him.” I turned to a passing waiter, took a glass of vintage red wine, and raised it slightly toward her. “Since you have such… unique tastes, Patricia, consider the cufflinks a gift to the dog. From me.” Without another word, I turned my back on her and walked toward the main table. Behind me, I heard the screech of a chair being pushed back violently. “Timothy Sterling! Don’t you walk away from me!” I didn’t stop. I had spent every ounce of the “hesitation” my grandmother had gifted me on Patricia. For six years, I had held on. Tonight, she had literally thrown my heart to the dogs. The six-year contract of my soul was officially cancelled. 2. After the gala, I returned to the penthouse we shared in the city. It was technically a Sterling property, meant to be our marital home. Patricia had been living there for three years. I began gathering my work files from the coffee table, preparing my exit. The door burst open. Patricia walked in, smelling of expensive gin and Jax’s signature cologne. Her face was a storm of indignation. She kicked off her heels and threw her designer bag onto the sofa. “What the hell was that tonight?” she demanded, stepping into my light. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone.” I clicked my briefcase shut. “I didn’t do anything but state the truth.” “State the truth?” she mocked. “Jax was just having fun. He thought the dog looked cute. You had to make it a thing? You had to make him feel like trash in front of the whole board?” She pulled a slim cigarette from her pack and lit it, her hands trembling slightly. “Do you have any idea how quiet he was on the drive home? He’s devastated. He thinks he ruined your birthday. He’s been blaming himself all night.” I looked up at her, really looked at her. “Patricia, it was my birthday.” “So?” She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You’re a Sterling. You have everything. Jax only has me. I was just trying to make him smile for once, and you’re so petty you can’t even handle that?” The door creaked open further. Jax stepped in, wearing one of my oversized spare T-shirts. His eyes were artificially red, his expression practiced in its vulnerability. “Patricia, please, don’t fight with Timothy because of me,” he said, grabbing her arm. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said the cufflinks were pretty. I’ve just never seen anything so exquisite… I lost my head for a second.” Patricia’s expression softened instantly as she took his hand. She shot me a look of pure ice. “Do you hear him, Timothy? Even now, he’s thinking about you.” I looked at their joined hands. The six years of devotion I’d given her felt like a bad punchline. “There are a dozen more pairs in the hallway cabinet,” I said calmly. “Gifts I gave you over the years. Take them. Take the house, too. Consider it a parting gift for you both.” Patricia blinked, then let out a sharp, jagged laugh. “Oh, here we go. The ‘I’m leaving’ routine again? Let me remind you, Timothy—last time you tried this, you called me three hours later crying, begging to come back.” Jax looked down, hiding a smirk of pure satisfaction. “Timothy, don’t be mad. I’ll leave… I don’t want to cause trouble…” He made a show of turning to leave, but as he passed the coffee table, he “accidentally” caught his knee on the sharp edge of the rosewood. “Ah!” He let out a muffled groan and collapsed toward Patricia. Patricia caught him immediately, turning on me with a snarl. “Why is this table pushed so far out? Did you do that on purpose? You’re obsessed with hurting him!” That table hadn’t moved since the day we bought it. I didn’t bother explaining. Patricia helped Jax onto the sofa with maternal tenderness, rolling up his pant leg to inspect a faint red mark on his knee. “I’m going to get the ointment.” As she stood up to walk past me, she slammed her shoulder into mine. Hard. It was deliberate. I was caught off guard, and the force sent me stumbling back toward the heavy display cabinet. My temple slammed into the sharp, gilded corner of the wood. A white-hot flash of pain erupted. Then, something warm began to trickle down my eyebrow. My vision blurred with red. Drip. Drip. The blood hit the hardwood floor with a soft, wet sound. Patricia stopped and glanced back. She saw the blood, but she didn’t move. “Stop acting,” she said, her lip curling. “It was a nudge. You aren’t bleeding that much. Go get Jax an ice pack—his knee is actually bruised.” I held my hand to my forehead, the blood seeping through my fingers. Across the room, Jax was watching me. The “pain” was gone from his face, replaced by a look of pure, toxic triumph. I used the cabinet to steady myself and stood up straight. I didn’t look at either of them again. I picked up my briefcase and walked out into the cold night air. She didn’t realize it yet, but she had just severed the last thread connecting me to her. 3. The next morning, the board room at Sterling Global was stifling. I sat at the head of the table, a stark white bandage taped over my temple. The heavy oak doors swung open, and Patricia walked in, followed by Jax carrying a stack of folders. She was the Managing Director of our subsidiary; Jax was her “assistant.” Patricia saw the bandage and paused for a fraction of a second. “What happened to your face?” she asked, her voice laced with annoyance rather than concern. I flipped open the quarterly report. “Let’s begin, Director Lu. Everyone’s time is valuable.” Patricia’s jaw tightened as she sat down across from me. Halfway through the presentation, as Jax was handing Patricia a cup of coffee, his hand “slipped.” The scalding liquid splashed across the original, signed financial audit sitting in front of Patricia. “Oh my god, Patricia, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He scrambled with napkins, his face a mask of frantic clumsiness. Patricia caught his hand. “It’s fine, Jax. It’s just paper. Are your hands okay?” She turned to me, her tone demanding. “Timothy, have your secretary print another copy.” I clicked my pen. The sound echoed in the silent room. “Director Lu, that document was the final audit, signed by our partners in London. It is the only legally binding original. While we have digital backups, the process for re-authorization of an original takes weeks. It’s a massive security risk.” Patricia waved a hand dismissively. “Then have the team do it! Jax was up until 3 A.M. helping me prep this data. He’s exhausted. You should be more understanding.” The other executives in the room looked at their shoes. I looked her dead in the eye. “Director, we are in a place of business. Please act like it.” “Timothy, are you seriously targeting Jax again?” Patricia slammed the damp document on the table. “It’s a piece of paper! As my fiancé, can’t you be a little more generous?” Jax stood up, his face pale. “Mr. Sterling, it’s all my fault. Don’t blame Patricia… I’ll fix it. I’ll do it right now.” He leaned down to pick up the scattered papers, but as he stood, he swayed, looking like he was about to faint. Patricia caught him instantly, shouting at me. “Enough! Timothy, look at yourself. You have zero class. Jax isn’t feeling well. If you scare him into a panic attack, can you even live with yourself?” I reached for the intercom on the desk. “Security to the boardroom. Now.” Patricia stared at me, bewildered. “What are you doing?” “Mr. Miller is grossly incompetent. He has destroyed vital company assets and created a liability. He is fired, effective immediately.” I looked at the two security guards who entered the room, then turned to Patricia. “And as for you, Director Lu—your inability to separate your personal life from your professional duties has compromised this meeting. You are suspended indefinitely. Go home and reflect.” Patricia let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. “Timothy, is this your new tactic? Ruining my career to make me crawl back to you? Fine. I’m leaving. Let’s see how the South Side project moves forward without me!” She grabbed Jax’s hand. “Come on, Jax. We’re leaving.” Jax looked back at me over his shoulder, a smirk hidden in the shadow of his collar. At the door, Patricia stopped. She threw one last cold look at me. “When you learn how to be a real man and a real fiancé, come find me and apologize. Maybe then I’ll think about coming back.” The door slammed so hard the windows rattled. My head throbbed. I fed the ruined document into the shredder and opened the next file. “Next item on the agenda.” Three days later, I stood in the VIP hallway of the City General Hospital. My grandmother’s lead surgeon looked at me with a grim expression. “Mr. Sterling, your grandmother’s condition is critical. She needs a quadruple bypass immediately. However, Dr. Lawrence is currently at a restricted military medical conference upstate. All communications are jammed. We’ve found that the only way to get him back in time is by private jet—and the only one with an active flight path cleared for that restricted airspace right now is the one registered to Director Lu.” My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone. I dialed Patricia. The first call went to voicemail. The second was declined. On the third, she finally picked up. In the background, I could hear loud music and the cheering of a crowd. “What?” Patricia’s voice was sharp with irritation. “Patricia, listen to me. Nana had a heart attack. She’s in the ER. I need your jet to pick up Dr. Lawrence from the upstate base. It’s the only one cleared for the flight path. Please. I’m begging you. Arrange it now.” The line went quiet for a few seconds. Then, I heard Jax’s voice in the background. “Patricia, who is it? Is it important? It’s okay… we can skip the meteor shower if you have to go.” Patricia’s voice softened as she spoke to him. “Stay put, honey. It’s fine.” Then she spoke back into the phone. “Timothy, stop it. This is pathetic.” “I’m not playing! She’s in surgery!” I screamed into the receiver. “Surgery?” she scoffed. “Last month you said her blood pressure was high. Last week you said you cut your hand. Timothy, you’ve used the ’emergency’ card three times too many. I’m tired of the drama. Jax has never seen a meteor shower from a private jet, and I promised him tonight would be special. I’m not breaking my word to him just because you’re lonely.” 4. “Patricia, this is a human life!” I roared into the phone. “Enough,” she snapped. “If you want me to come home, just say it. Don’t curse your own grandmother’s health to get attention. I’m busy. I don’t have time for your movies.” Click. The line went dead. I leaned against the cold hospital wall, the phone slipping from my hand. A team of nurses rushed past me with a crash cart. The red “In Surgery” light burned like a mocking eye. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, burying my face in my knees. Five hours later, the news came. Dr. Lawrence hadn’t made it back in time. The local team had done their best, but they could only stabilize her on life support. She needed to be transferred to a specialist facility in Switzerland immediately. And while my grandmother clung to life by a thread, Patricia’s jet was thousands of feet in the air, chasing stars. I scrolled through my feed. Jax had posted a photo. He was holding a glass of vintage Cristal, the star-strewn sky visible through the cabin window. The caption read: Thank you, P, for making my dreams come true. Best night of my life. Patricia had liked the post. Her comment sat right at the top: Anything for you. You’re worth it all. A cold, dead weight settled in my chest. I wiped the tears from my face and stood up. I called the head of Sterling’s legal department. “Draft the papers. I want the engagement officially dissolved. Effective immediately, revoke all of Patricia Lu’s access to Sterling assets. Freeze the corporate accounts she uses. Start the clawback process for every cent of company money she’s spent on personal ‘gifts’ for Miller. And get the international medical transport ready. We’re taking my grandmother to Switzerland.” I walked out of the hospital into the gray dawn. A black Bentley was idling by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Patricia’s smug, beautiful face. Jax was in the passenger seat, his arm draped lazily over her headrest. “Look at you,” Patricia said, her eyes scanning my disheveled state. “Still playing the part, standing outside the hospital. Get in the car, Timothy. Stop embarrassing yourself. Since you want my attention so badly, I’ll give you a ride.” I walked over to the car, my face a mask of stone. Jax grinned at me, his eyes gleaming with malice. “The meteor shower was incredible, Timothy. Too bad you missed it. Patricia said maybe she’ll take you next time.” Patricia hit the central locks, inviting me in. I reached into my bag, pulled out a thick manila envelope, and dropped it through the open window into her lap. “No thanks,” I said. Patricia frowned, picking up the envelope. “What’s this? A formal apology? A poem?” She pulled out the papers. In the dim glow of the streetlights, she read the header of the first page. NOTICE OF TERMINATION OF ENGAGEMENT. Beneath it was the second document: NOTICE OF EXECUTIVE DISMISSAL AND ASSET FREEZURE. Patricia’s hand began to shake. The blood drained from her face. “Timothy…” her voice wavered. “Are you serious?”

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The new intern at the office handed me a thick, cream-colored envelope embossed with gold foil. A wedding invitation. I opened it with the distracted air of a busy executive, my mind already drifting to the afternoon’s quarterly projections. But as my eyes snagged on the groom’s name, the air left my lungs. Killian. My fingers went rigid. Killian. That was my husband’s name. I forced a brittle smile, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. It’s a common enough name, I told myself. A coincidence. A cruel, statistical anomaly. The world was full of men named Killian. Across the open-plan office, my staff was already swarming the intern, Lexie. “God, Lexie, you really hit the jackpot,” one of the junior analysts chirped, her voice dripping with envy. “Marrying a literal titan of industry? Even if he is ten years older, who cares?” Another girl chimed in, “Older? Please. I saw his Instagram—he’s in better shape than most guys our age. And that jawline? Lethal.” Someone tapped a command on their laptop, and the projector on the far wall hummed to life. A photo filled the screen. I looked up. The world tilted on its axis. The face staring back at me—the sharp, intelligent eyes, the slight quirk of the mouth I’d kissed every morning for fifteen years—was the man I had shared a bed with last night. The blood in my veins turned to ice. On the day of the wedding, I arrived at the Fairmont ballroom thirty minutes early. The air was cloying with the scent of expensive lilies and floor-to-ceiling peonies. Lexie was there, a vision in a bespoke Vera Wang, her smile radiant enough to light up the city. She glided toward me, her hand outstretched. “Elena, I’m so glad you could make it!” Her voice was like spun sugar, sweet and sickly. “It means everything to have you here to witness our beginning.” … I felt a thin, cold smile stretch across my face. Witnessing. That was an interesting word for it. To be more accurate, I was here to witness a crime scene—the slow-motion demolition of my life. Two massive, framed portraits flanked the entrance. In them, Killian held Lexie by her slender waist, their laughter captured in high-definition bliss. Looking at them, I felt a physical sensation of being torn apart, as if invisible hooks were pulling my skin in opposite directions. Lexie took my hand, her eyes shimmering with a performative shyness. “Elena—” she paused, her smile turning probing. “On a day like this, formalities feel so cold. Can I call you Len? Like a big sister?” She was twenty-two. A recent NYU grad with skin like porcelain and eyes that hadn’t yet learned how to hide a secret. At that age, you don’t need makeup to be beautiful; you just need to breathe. My heart throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. “Sure,” I managed to choke out. “Len is fine.” She led me to the VIP lounge, hovering over me with tea and fruit, her excitement so palpable it reminded me of myself fifteen years ago. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a lead weight. Before leaving for the “wedding” this morning, I had called Killian. He told me he was still stuck in Chicago on business. On the FaceTime call, he looked tired, his eyes softening with that familiar, curated devotion. He even showed me a Tiffany box he’d bought for me. “Three more days until I’m home, El,” he’d whispered, looking like a man who missed his wife. “It feels like a century. I miss you so much it hurts.” I had come so close to screaming then. I wanted to rip that mask off his face right through the screen, but I held back. For fifteen years, Killian was the gold standard. The perfect husband, the doting father, the son-in-law my parents bragged about at every country club dinner. Until last week, I believed he was the best man I’d ever known. The height of that pedestal made the fall infinite. Bella, a gossip-loving manager from my department, walked over and grabbed Lexie’s hands. “You look stunning! Absolutely breathtaking!” Lexie blushed, glancing at me. “It’s just the contouring, believe me. Elena is the real beauty here.” It was a known fact in our circles. I was the “classic” beauty, the former homecoming queen who had aged into a sharp, sophisticated grace. Even next to a twenty-two-year-old, I held my own. But I knew better than anyone that marriage isn’t a beauty pageant. If it were, I wouldn’t be standing in the wreckage of mine. “So, Lexie,” Bella leaned in, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “I heard you’ve been together for four years. How did you land a billionaire catch like this? Is there a brother? I’ll sign my divorce papers today if there is.” Four years. The words hit me like a physical blow. Four years. He had maintained a parallel universe for four years without leaving a single fingerprint on our life together. I felt a surge of nausea. “He was a gift from the universe,” Lexie said, her voice soft and reverent. We sat down in the plush velvet armchairs. “My freshman year at Columbia, my parents were killed in a car accident. I was going to drop out—I couldn’t afford the tuition. It turned out Killian was a major donor to his alma mater. He gave five million a year to the scholarship fund, and I was one of his recipients.” She smiled into her tea. “That first winter was brutal. To thank him, I hand-knitted him a charcoal cashmere sweater. That sweater… that was the beginning of us.” I remembered that sweater. Killian treated it like a holy relic. He’d told me his late mother had knitted it for him before she passed. Once, our son accidentally dropped it on the floor, and Killian had flown into a terrifying, uncharacteristic rage. He’d actually struck the boy. And the five million a year? I knew nothing about it. Two years ago, Killian told me the firm was in a liquidity crisis. He’d mortgaged our penthouse, his father’s estate, and even my parents’ retirement home to “save” the company. He’d painted a picture of a business on life support, barely breaking even. But he wasn’t broke. He was just funding a fantasy. “I heard he’s loaded,” Bella continued, oblivious to the blood draining from my face. “And that he’s turned everything over to you. Why are you even working that soul-crushing job at our firm?” I watched Lexie closely. “He did,” she said, her expression serene. “He’s given me more than I could spend in ten lifetimes. But I want my own life, you know? I don’t want to be just another trophy wife. I need to have my own value.” Ten lifetimes. My lungs felt tight. Just last month, we couldn’t “afford” the $70k tuition for our son Teddy’s private academy for children with special needs. We had to move him to a crumbling public school. The transition had triggered a massive depressive episode for my ten-year-old; he’d stopped eating, stopped talking. “What exactly does your husband do that’s so lucrative?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. “Most of his holdings are offshore,” she replied. “The domestic companies don’t really make much, apparently.” I felt a jolt of shock. I had no idea Killian had international entities. For four years, he’d claimed the business was failing so he could stop contributing to our household. My salary—six figures after tax—covered everything. When my mother-in-law was dying four years ago, the medical bills topped two million. I paid for all of it. I borrowed half of that money, working eighty-hour weeks and hiding my grey hair under expensive dye just to keep up the appearance that we hadn’t fallen from grace. Killian had watched me cry myself to sleep from the stress. He’d watched me sell my grandmother’s jewelry. And he hadn’t contributed a single cent. Bella leaned in closer. “I heard he’s a divorcee. Is he… you know, over the first wife?” I felt a cold laugh bubbling in my throat, but I kept my face a mask of polite interest. Lexie didn’t hesitate. Her smile was tinged with a practiced, tragic sweetness. “His first wife and son are dead.” The world stopped. I couldn’t breathe. The air in the room turned into jagged glass in my throat. He told her we were dead. “It was an accident,” Lexie added, looking genuinely mournful. “Such a shame. She never got to see the man he became, or enjoy the life he can provide now.” More colleagues arrived, and Lexie fluttered away to greet them. They circled her like she was a miracle, gushing over her luck. Suddenly, Lexie’s phone buzzed with a FaceTime request. It was Killian. “Pick it up!” the girls squealed. “Let us see the groom!” Lexie blushed and declined the call. “No. I want the first time he sees me today to be when I’m walking down the aisle. I want it to be a surprise.” She turned back to us, her eyes moist. “To be honest, Killian never had a real wedding with his first wife. No photos, no big party, he never even saw her in a dress. I want today to be the most beautiful, unforgettable day of his life.” She was right about one thing. Fifteen years ago, Killian was a nobody. We’d eloped in a courthouse. Our “rings” were ten-dollar bands from a street vendor. Every penny I had went into his first startup. Three months ago, Teddy had asked his dad if we could take family portraits at a professional studio. Killian had just laughed it off. “We’re an old married couple, Ted. We don’t need all that fuss. Maybe next year.” I’d felt a twinge of disappointment, but I’d let it go. I thought we had the only thing that mattered: a life together. I remembered our wedding night in a $40 motel room. He’d held my hands, his eyes red with tears, and promised me: “One day, El, when I’ve made it, I’m going to give you the wedding of your dreams. The dress, the diamonds, everything. I’ll make it up to you.” He was making it up to someone, alright. Just not me. “Wait,” Bella gasped. “He had nothing with the dead wife?” “He said there was no love there,” Lexie said casually, as if she were discussing the weather. “He said it was an arrangement his parents forced on him. He told me that when she died, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Like the sun finally came out.” The pain in my chest was so sharp I thought I was having a heart attack. He’d proposed to me twenty times before I finally said yes. He’d cried at our son’s birth. And now, I was a suffocating shadow he’d finally escaped. Lexie suddenly turned pale and clutched her stomach, let out a small retching sound. “Morning sickness?” I asked. Her eyes lit up. She nodded. “Good eye, Len. We just found out. Two months.” The congratulations poured in. They called the unborn baby the “heir to the empire.” “Killian’s already transferring everything into a trust for me and the baby,” Lexie said. “He wants me to quit the firm immediately. He’s moving us to London next month. He says he wants us to have the best of everything.” I felt a chill settle into my marrow. Her child was the heir? What about Teddy? My ten-year-old son who, at age eight, had run into a burning warehouse to save his father’s life? Killian had been trapped during an electrical fire at a site visit. Teddy didn’t hesitate. He’d dragged his father out, but a falling beam had crushed the boy’s leg. My healthy, athletic son was now a “lame” child who walked with a heavy brace and lived with crushing anxiety. Killian had cried for days after that. He’d promised Teddy: “I’m going to work so hard that you’ll never have to worry about anything. You’re going to be a king, son.” It was the greatest lie ever told. “Lexie,” Bella sighed, “the universe really loves you. Your husband is obsessed with you. You guys are going to be happy forever.” Lexie squeezed Bella’s hand. “I know he loves me. He’s literally risked his life for me.” I raised an eyebrow. “Really? What did he do?” “Two years ago,” Lexie said, her voice dropping into a romantic hush, “we were at one of his warehouses. I lost an earring—just a cheap $30 stud, but it was my favorite. He went back inside to find it. An electrical fire broke out while he was in there. He almost died, but he wouldn’t leave until he found that stupid earring for me.” The blood roared in my ears. My nails bit into my palms so hard I drew blood. My son lost his leg because of a thirty-dollar earring. Fifteen years. I had slept next to a monster for fifteen years and called it love. “Oh my god, that’s so romantic,” someone whispered. “What about his parents?” another girl asked. “Are they as sweet as he is?” I looked at Lexie. She nodded enthusiastically. “They’re wonderful. They treat me like their own daughter.” My skin crawled. Killian’s mother died four years ago. His father has advanced Alzheimer’s and lives in a high-security memory care facility. Lexie adjusted her lace sleeve, revealing a pale wrist adorned with a familiar jade bangle. It was an identical match to the one I was wearing. “My mother-in-law gave me this,” Lexie said, showing it off. “She told me it’s an heirloom. Only passed down to the women who join the family. It’s been in their family for generations.” I looked at my own wrist. I looked closer. For the first time, I realized the luster of my bangle was off. Mine was a fake. The real one had been bought by Killian’s mother with a year’s worth of wages from her job as a dishwasher. She loved me. She’d told me I was the daughter she never had. That’s why I’d bankrupted myself to try to save her life. And Killian had swapped it out for a glass replica to give to his mistress. A wedding coordinator appeared. “Bride? We’re starting.” Lexie gathered her skirts, beaming. “See you all inside!” “See you inside,” I whispered to the empty air. The ballroom was packed. I saw a couple sitting in the front row with “Father of the Groom” and “Mother of the Groom” boutonnieres. I felt a bitter laugh rise in my chest. He had actually hired actors to play his dead mother and demented father. The music swelled. Killian stood at the altar, looking regal and composed, a smile of pure joy on his face. I stood in the shadows at the back, a searing, white-hot hatred boiling over in my soul. I watched him watch her. I watched him take her hand. I listened to them exchange vows that were built on the bones of my son’s future. The officiant turned to Lexie. “Do you, Lexie, take this man…” “I do!” she chirped, her voice ringing out. I stepped out of the shadows, a microphone in my hand. My voice cut through the room like a serrated blade. “Actually, I have a few notes on that.” I locked eyes with Killian. His face went gray. “Don’t I get a vote, sweetheart?”

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My sister and I used to be drowning in our own toxicity, hell-bent on chasing men who didn’t want us. I was obsessed with the older one—a cold, ruthlessly disciplined, older corporate executive. My sister, meanwhile, was desperately in love with his younger brother—a frail, soft-spoken, wheelchair-bound boy with a shy smile. After an entire year of throwing ourselves at them and getting absolutely nowhere, we reached a point of pathetic desperation. We actually planned to drug them. It was a reckless, absurd idea. But right before we crossed that unforgivable line, a glitching stream of glowing text appeared out of thin air, hovering right in front of our eyes. The floating words screamed at us. The text berated my sister and me for our twisted, obsessive minds, begging us to spare these two men. The comments insisted that they belonged to the “rightful heroine” of the story. More terrifyingly, the floating text warned us of exactly what would happen if we went through with the drugging: our family would go bankrupt, our faces would be ruined, and we would be violently thrown out into the streets, left to rot. Seeing those warnings felt like taking a bucket of ice water to the chest. My sister and I snapped out of our fever dream. From that moment on, we stopped suffocating them. We stopped forcing our feelings down their throats. We decided to focus on ourselves, to pull our lives together, and to actually open our eyes to the other decent guys in the world. Yet, the universe has a sick sense of humor. The older brother—the man who had spent a year looking through me as if I were made of glass—suddenly cornered me in the hallway. Before I could process what was happening, he closed the distance and kissed me, hard. His breathing was ragged. He practically shook as he demanded to know why I had just given up on him so easily. He asked, his voice dripping with a dark, bitter insecurity, if I suddenly thought he was too old, too boring for me. The more he spoke, the more he lost control. The kiss turned desperate. Punishing. Panicking, I managed to shove him back just enough to hit speed-dial for my sister. When the call connected, I didn’t hear her voice. I heard her muffled, terrified crying. And then, crackling through the receiver, came the voice of the younger brother. The shy, gentle boy was gone. His voice was thick, dark, and sickly sweet. “Be a good girl,” he whispered through the phone. “Let’s do that again.” A chill violently clawed its way down my spine. 1 It was right after my ninth failed confession to my older stepbrother, Devin. I decided I was going to force his hand. My twin sister, Serena, didn’t approve at first. “You can’t force a flower to bloom,” she told me, lounging on my bed. “Matters of the heart require patience. We have to play the long game. Slowly reel them in.” Exactly one week later, Serena experienced her tenth brutal rejection from the younger brother, Kieran. She was devastated. She cried until her eyes were swollen shut. “You can’t force a flower to bloom,” she sniffled, wiping mascara from her cheeks, “but at least you can rip off the petals.” “Exactly.” “If I can’t have his heart, I’ll take his body.” “Damn right!” Serena initiated the raid; I immediately fell into formation. One look between us, and the plan was set. Sunday was our mother’s birthday gala. For the sake of convenience and showing off, it was hosted right here at our sprawling estate. Because it was the first birthday since our families had merged into one messy, wealthy blended household, our stepdad, Richard, had his two sons in attendance. I had acquired the goods. Serena stared at the five tiny green vials in the palm of my hand, her expression entirely skeptical. “Are you absolutely sure this sketchy powder you bought off a dark-web pop-up ad for ten bucks actually works?” I was brimming with misguided confidence. “The forums swore by it. It’s foolproof.” The party downstairs was a blur of designer dresses, clinking champagne flutes, and polite corporate laughter. Devin, whom I hadn’t seen in weeks, was dressed in a razor-sharp bespoke suit, looking like he owned the room. He stood near the grand piano, nursing a scotch and making small talk with the investors. He caught sight of me. His gaze lingered on me for less than three seconds before he abruptly looked away, his jaw tightening. He looked so painfully stiff and awkward that a stranger would have thought he was the one who had been rejected nine times. Kieran, confined to his wheelchair, sat quietly in the shadowed corner of the sunken living room. When Serena took a seat on the velvet sofa near him, he didn’t even dare to lift his head. They really were brothers. Their avoidance tactics were identical. Serena had been wavering slightly, but seeing Kieran shrink away from her solidified her resolve. “I’m going to find out if his body is as stubborn as his mouth,” she muttered. We divided the labor. Serena poured the drinks; I twisted the caps off the vials. Right as I was tipping the powder over the rim of the crystal tumbler, a blinding white light flashed across my vision. Neon text began scrolling through the empty air in front of me. [God, I am so sick of these two desperately horny sisters. Begging the author to let our two male leads go.] [The premise of this book is a love triangle where both brothers fall for the sunshine female lead! Even if these toxic twins drug them, it won’t work.] [This is so gross! Why can’t they just be normal stepsiblings?!] [In the original novel, these two evil stepsisters end up with the most gruesome fates just because they tried this stunt.] [Help, stop digging your own graves! Just be background characters!] [I eternally reject the ‘harassment as romance’ trope. Someone delete these side characters.] [When is the real heroine showing up? I’m dying waiting.] [Go ahead and drop the powder, girls. Enjoy your VIP package of bankruptcy, facial disfigurement, and getting thrown into the gutter.] “Bankrupt?” I whispered. “Disfigured?” Serena gasped. Another flash of white light. Suddenly, a vivid, horrifying montage played in my mind: Serena and I weeping, begging on our knees, being spat on, humiliated, stripped of everything, our faces scarred, our bank accounts drained to zero. I love money more than life itself. Serena worships her own beauty. We slowly turned to look at each other, the color draining from our faces. We spoke in unison. “You saw that too?” “…” 2 Serena and I are identical twins. We share the exact same face. We share absolutely none of the same personality traits. Serena reads obscure French poetry; I devour double cheeseburgers. Serena is the picture of poise; I’m a walking hurricane. We only have one thing in common. We are both incredibly pretentious. To prove how “different” and deep we were, Serena and I would camp out at the local artisanal coffee shop with our MacBooks, looking brooding and intellectual for ten hours straight. Because we thought adopting a dog or a cat was too basic, I bought a ball python, and she bought an iguana. Beyond that, our daily routine consisted of viciously competing with one another. We competed over who could eat more, who could fail an exam more spectacularly, who had a better metabolism, and who could curse someone out more creatively. Our mother, trapped between us, had a miserable time trying to keep the peace. Finally, after one too many nights of being forced to choose whether the snake or the iguana was “cuter” before we went to bed, our mother snapped. She decided she wasn’t going to suffer alone anymore. She was going to find a husband to draw some of our fire. Enter Richard. Richard was a widower of many years, dragging along two grown sons. In the high-society dating market, he was considered damaged goods. Our mother took one look at his bank accounts and zeroed in on him. Serena and I took one look at him and zeroed in on… his sons. Devin was twenty-seven. Kieran was twenty-five. Devin was ice-cold, impossibly arrogant, and ruled by logic. He was the quintessential, untouchable CEO from a romance novel. Kieran was the gentle aristocrat. Soft-spoken, warm, yet shadowed by the tragedy of his paralyzed legs, which gave him an air of fragile melancholy. I stared at Devin, practically salivating. “I want to see that ice-king lose his mind. It would be intoxicating.” Serena stared at Kieran, her eyes dark. “I want to pin him down and make him cry.” Like I said, Serena and I are family. We have the exact same twisted DNA running through our veins. We were creatures of impulse. If we wanted something, we took it. I was the action-taker. I immediately drafted a battle plan to conquer the older brother. I bought him absurdly expensive watches, sent him texts, ambushed him for lunches and movies. I studied his coffee orders, his habits, trying to dismantle his defenses brick by brick. After a year of this, my progress was exactly zero. Serena believed in the slow burn. She thought love should seep in like water into soil. Whenever she had a free moment, she was pushing Kieran’s wheelchair through the gardens. She talked to him about art, the moon, life, and philosophy. She listened to him talk about the trauma of losing his mother and the agonizing pain of losing his legs. But Kieran’s heart was apparently made of Kevlar. “Kieran said I’m too young, and that I’m just confusing pity for love,” Serena complained to me once. “Devin said my constant presence is a sign of deep-seated attachment issues,” I grumbled back. “Kieran said legally, it’s frowned upon.” “Devin said he has a corporate image to maintain and won’t involve himself in a scandal.” We both sighed heavily. This was the first time either of us had seriously pursued anyone. We just assumed we hadn’t tried hard enough, hadn’t dug deep enough into their souls. The more we failed, the harder we pushed. The more they pushed us away, the more obsessed we became. It grew into a sickness. A total fixation. But it turned out, we were just living inside the pages of a novel. Serena and I were the cannon fodder. The evil stepsisters. Devin and Kieran were the male leads. Their entire universe was meant to revolve around the heroine. Serena and I were just the pathetic catalysts meant to push the main characters closer together. We were flat, one-dimensional tools. We were never, ever going to get a text back. Under the invisible hand of the plot, we had slowly been driven insane, pushed toward making unforgivable choices, destined to die penniless and ruined. I looked down at the powder dusted across my knuckles. A cold sweat broke out over my entire body. 3 [Why is the evil stepsister just standing there spacing out? Is she plotting something worse?] The text was still hovering in the air. I quickly pulled out my phone and checked my banking app. I counted the zeroes. They were still there. Serena whipped out her compact mirror. Her flawless face was untouched. We both let out massive, shaky breaths. We looked at each other, communicating entirely through our eyes. Actually, when you really think about it, Devin always has a stick up his ass. He’s not even fun. Men age like milk anyway. He’s twenty-seven, which in club years is basically sixty-two. He’s too old for me. Kieran is so fragile. If I actually got him into bed, he’d probably break. Love is great, but my face is worth millions. If I have to choose between a man and my trust fund, the man has to go. Serena always knew exactly what to say. I decisively dumped the remaining powder straight into the nearest potted plant. But I couldn’t just leave the drinks sitting there. It felt too suspicious. I grabbed a pitcher of tap water and topped off both glasses of scotch until they were thoroughly diluted. [Wait, why did the villain back out?] [The plot is totally shifting. Am I reading a pirated version of the book?] [Oh no! The first encounter between the heroine and the male leads is totally ruined! How are they going to have their romantic, drug-fueled one-night stand now?!] First encounter? One-night stand? Romantic? Now that I was pulled out of my obsessive haze, reading those words made me want to gag. What a load of toxic bullshit. Serena saw the text too. She frowned, looking visibly nauseated. “Thank God we stopped,” she whispered. “We didn’t ruin our own lives, and we didn’t accidentally traffic them to some random girl.” Devin stepped up to the bar. Seeing the glass in my hand, he assumed it was for him. He reached out to take it. After seeing those floating comments, looking at him made my chest feel tight and complicated. Maybe it started out as physical attraction. A shallow crush. But over the last year of trying to break through his walls, I had actually given him pieces of my real heart. But if this was a story, and I was the villain, there was no point in bleeding out for him anymore. “This isn’t for you,” I said coldly, pulling the glass away. “…” Devin’s dark eyes narrowed. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. I lifted the glass, intending to take a sip just to prove my point. His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. He pulled the glass down. “Did you forget you’re allergic to alcohol?” I actually had forgotten. I let him take the glass. He brought it to his lips and took a slow sip. Serena watched him, opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it. I knew firsthand how terrifyingly observant Devin was. Once, I had accidentally left a single strand of hair on his office chair. The next day, he presented it to me, noting the length and the curl pattern, and told me to learn the definition of boundaries. There was no way he didn’t taste the tap water I had just dumped into his Macallan. But before I could dwell on it, our mother clinked her glass to announce the cake cutting. Serena and I linked arms and walked up to the front to stand with her. I accidentally glanced up. I met Devin’s eyes across the room. I didn’t give him my usual desperate, glowing smile. I just looked at him blankly, and then shifted my gaze to the wall. Around ten o’clock, the party wound down. I headed upstairs to my bedroom. Devin was leaning against the mahogany railing at the top of the stairs. He called my name, stopping me in my tracks. The light from the crystal chandelier hit the sharp angles of his jaw. Usually, his features were entirely composed, practically monastic. But tonight, there was a faint flush to his cheeks. He was holding a small, dark red velvet box. He looked at me. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Last week was your birthday. I was out of town on business and missed it. This is your gift.” I took the box and offered a polite, distant smile. “Thank you, Devin.” Devin’s eyes widened, a sudden, jarring clarity cutting through his buzzed state. His voice hitched with a strange tension. “What did you just… call me?”

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The endgame of the Apex Trials arrived not with a roar, but with a terrifying, clinical silence. Three faces frozen around a cold metal table. Before us sat three identical capsules. The rules were as simple as they were barbaric: two contained the antidote that would allow us to walk out of here; the third contained a fast-acting neurotoxin that would liquefy your organs in minutes. The survivor wouldn’t just win their life back; they’d walk away with a ten-million-dollar purse. The loser would die in agony. And here we were, the final three: me, my fiancé, and my younger sister. Maya, who had struggled with a congenital heart defect since she was a toddler, was trembling so violently she could barely sit upright. She reached out, her fingers like cold wire as she gripped my forearm. “Jo,” she choked out, her eyes swimming with tears. “I was never going to live a long life anyway. Give me the poison. You and Gabe… you have to live. You have to take care of Mom and Dad for me.” My heart felt like it had been pierced by a needle. I fought back my own tears, nodding as I reached for the capsules to distribute them. I looked at them one last time—the man I planned to marry and the sister I had spent my life protecting. I raised my capsule to my lips. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist. The grip was so savage I felt the delicate bones of my arm creak. I looked up. Under the harsh LED lights, Gabe’s face looked like a stranger’s—cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of the warmth I’d known for eight years. “Joanna,” his voice was like a winter wind. “Maya is your sister. You should give that pill to her.” Before I could process the betrayal in his tone, the comms monitor on the wall crackled to life. My parents’ faces appeared on the screen, broadcast from the viewing gallery. My mother’s voice was thick with tears, but her words were hard as flint. “Joanna, Maya is pregnant! You can’t let two lives end today. Give her the antidote. Now!” In that heartbeat, the world fractured. The jagged pieces finally clicked into place—my sister and my fiancé hadn’t just been close; they had been together. And my parents? They had known all along. A chill crawled up my spine, freezing the marrow in my bones. But instead of screaming, I started to laugh. A low, jagged sound that scraped my throat. They seemed to have forgotten one thing. They were so sure I was holding the antidote. But in this game, nothing is ever what it seems. 1 The final round of the Apex Trials. Three pills on a table. Two are life. One is a death sentence. The winner gets ten million dollars and a second chance. The loser rots. And the only ones left in the arena are me, my fiancé, Gabe, and my sister, Maya. Maya, the girl with the “fragile heart,” was currently sobbing into my shoulder. “Jo, please. My heart was going to give out before thirty anyway. Let me take the hit. You and Gabe… you’re my world. Just promise you’ll look after the parents.” My chest throbbed with a dull ache. I nodded, my eyes blurring as I handed out the pills. I took one last, lingering look at the two people I loved most, preparing to swallow my fate. Then Gabe’s hand was on me, pinning me down. I looked at him, stunned. “Joanna, she’s your sister. She needs that pill more than you do.” On the screen, my mother’s grief turned into a sharpened weapon. “Joanna, for God’s sake! Maya is pregnant. How can you be so selfish? Give her the medicine!” The word pregnant hit me like a physical blow. My brain hummed with static. I wrenched my hand away from Gabe, clutching the pill in my palm, my eyes fixed on Maya. I didn’t blink. I couldn’t. Maya and I are twins. We shared a womb, shared secrets, shared a life. She never mentioned a boyfriend. She never mentioned him. Maya’s eyes darted away, her pale face ghost-white. She clutched her chest, shaking her head. “Mom, Dad, please… stop. I already owe Jo so much. My heart is a ticking clock anyway. Just let me take the poison and go. I just want you all to be happy.” She made a show of raising her hand to her mouth, but Gabe caught her. The look on his face—a mixture of desperate panic and raw devotion—was something he had never once given to me. “Maya, stop. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who fell for you.” He turned his gaze toward the camera, then back to her. “You’re carrying my child. I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not today. Not ever.” I felt the air leave my lungs. I felt my knees give way, my body suddenly heavy with the weight of the injuries I’d sustained during the earlier rounds. To keep Maya safe, I had taken the hits. I’d walked through fire, literally and figuratively. My body was a map of bruises and half-healed lacerations. I was at my limit. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the sensation of my heart being ground into glass. I whispered the words, tasting the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. “Your… child?” “Gabe, stop it. This isn’t a funny joke.” Gabe and I had been together for eight years. Eight years of him knowing exactly how I liked my coffee, of him cooking soup for me when I was sick, of him warming my feet under the covers in the dead of winter. I thought he was my rock. I decided to marry him after my accident last year. He had been late to pick me up, and I’d tried to catch a bus, only to be clipped by a distracted driver. I was thrown ten feet. Broken ribs, shattered leg, internal bleeding. In the ICU, through the haze of morphine, I heard him begging the doctors. “Save her. Sell the house, take my car, take everything I own—just don’t let her go.” When they needed blood, he didn’t hesitate. He sat in that chair and let them draw until he turned gray, refusing to let them stop even when he passed the safety limit. “If she dies because I was a few milliliters short, I’ll never forgive myself,” he’d told the nurse. When Maya told me that story later, I cried until I couldn’t breathe. The moment I was stable, I grabbed his hand and told him to put the ring on my finger. I thought it was our “happily ever after.” But looking back now, I remembered how his hands had trembled when he slid that diamond onto my finger. Was that joy? Or was it the tremors of a man who had just realized he was trapped by his own guilt? I tried to smile, but tears were carving hot tracks through the dirt and blood on my face. I prayed—I actually prayed—that this was some hallucination brought on by blood loss. Then Gabe spoke again, and the trapdoor beneath my feet finally swung open. “Jo… she’s four months along.” 2 I stared at him, the math failing to compute. Gabe sighed, his voice heavy with a weary kind of pity. “The night of your accident… the reason I was late? I was with her.” “We lost track of time. It was intense. I was so preoccupied with her—cleaning her up, buying her new clothes because I’d ruined hers, making sure she got to work okay—that I forgot about the time. I forgot about you.” I remembered that night. I had called Maya while waiting for Gabe. I had gushed to her about how lucky I was to have him. I told her I hoped she found someone just like him so we could be happy together. Maya’s voice had been strange then. Breathless. Strained. I’d heard a muffled groan in the background. “Maya? You okay?” I’d asked. “Just a cold, Jo,” she’d rasped after a long pause. “My body… you know how it is. I shouldn’t… ugh… I shouldn’t burden anyone else.” “As long as I can see you happy… then I’m happy too. Ha.” Growing up, my parents always leaned toward Maya. The “Sui’an” to my “Mengbai”—the peace to my purity. They spent their lives hovering over her, terrified of her heart, terrified of her pain. Even on our shared birthdays, there was only ever one cake. Maya’s favorite flavor. Every single year. I used to be bitter. Until the year Maya took that cake and threw it in the trash. She’d taken my hand, her face pale and defiant, and told our parents: “Today is Jo’s birthday too. If you keep ignoring her, I’m going to stop taking my meds. I’d rather be dead than see her hurt.” My resentment vanished in that instant. My mother had wept, pulling me into her arms, promising to love us both equally. From that day on, we were inseparable. Or so I thought. “Maya, don’t worry,” I had whispered into the phone that night. “I’m going to win this money. I’m going to pay for your transplant. We’re sisters for life. Not a second less.” I’d hung up and signed the contract for the Apex Trials to save her life. Now, those memories felt like a sequence of slaps across the face. Every sacrifice I’d made for her felt like a jagged piece of hot coal in my gut. I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged forward and slapped Gabe across the face. “Do you even have a soul?” I screamed, my voice breaking. “She’s my sister! My flesh and blood!” “You told me you cared for her like family. Was ‘family’ just code for ‘mistress’? What am I to you, Gabe? A placeholder? A backup plan?” Maya let out a sharp cry and tried to step between us. Gabe’s expression shifted instantly—from cold indifference to feral protection. He lashed out, kicking me square in the stomach. I flew backward, my spine slamming into a jagged rock. The world went black for a second, then rushed back in a wave of cold sweat and agonizing pain. But Gabe didn’t even look at me. He was busy checking Maya’s pulse, running his hands over her shoulders. “Maya, are you okay? The baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I won’t let her hurt you.” Maya shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Gabe, stop. Leave me. I’ve had a bad life, I’ve accepted it. I’ve had parents who loved me, and in the end, I had you. That’s enough.” “The only thing I regret is this baby. But it’s okay. When I get to the other side, I’ll tell the little one I’m sorry.” She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a performative grief that made my skin crawl. “Joanna, I know I did a terrible thing. But I never lied about wanting you to be happy. When I found out you signed up for this game for me… the guilt nearly killed me.” “So let this be my penance. Let me take the poison.” 3 The words had barely left her mouth when she broke free from Gabe’s arms and lunged for the pill Gabe had knocked out of my hand earlier—the one they were so sure was the toxin. Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from the monitors. “Maya! If you swallow that, we’re coming with you!” I looked up, dazed. My parents had somehow made it to the edge of the arena fence. My mother was holding a small utility knife to her own throat, her face a mask of maternal madness. “Maya, life isn’t worth living without you. You have a baby now. They found a donor heart for you, honey! You have a future. I won’t let you throw it away here!” Her tears weren’t falling on the ground; they were falling on my soul. I gasped for air, clutching my broken back, and used the last of my strength to scream at the screen. “Mom! I’m your daughter too! Does my life mean nothing to you?” “I’ve called you ‘Mom’ for twenty-five years. Did you ever actually love me?” My mother’s eyes flickered toward me, cold and hollow. “Joanna, Maya said she owed you, but the truth is, you owe her. You were the stronger twin in the womb. You sucked all the nutrients out of her. You’re the reason her heart never developed. You got the normal life, you got to run and play, and then you took the man she loved. You’re the thief, Joanna. If anyone has to die today, it’s you.” I closed my eyes. I bit my lip until it bled, but I couldn’t stop the sob that tore through my chest. I felt like a fish gasping on dry land, drowning in the open air. My mother didn’t love me. But I had loved her. I had come here for Maya. I had already decided, before the betrayals came to light, that I was going to take the poison. When I was distributing the pills, I had already palmed the toxin. I was going to die so they could be happy. But now, I realized my sacrifice was a punchline. The people I would have died for were currently cheering for my execution. [Trial Countdown: Five Minutes. If no one consumes the toxin, all remaining players will be terminated.] The mechanical voice boomed. Gabe’s face twisted. He lunged at me, pinning me into the dirt, prying my fingers open with brutal force. I looked at his snarling, unrecognizable face. “Gabe,” I whispered. “If I told you that the pill in my hand right now is the poison… that I was always going to choose death for you… would you even feel a shred of guilt?” Gabe froze for a second. But then my mother’s voice shrieked from the fence. “Gabe! Maya collapsed! Her heart! You have to hurry! Give the poison to Joanna and take the money! Save Maya!” Panic erased whatever doubt was in Gabe’s eyes. He sneered at me. “Nice try, Joanna. I know how selfish you are. You’d say anything to save your own skin.” “You want the truth? I only asked you out because I thought you were Maya that night. By the time I realized the mistake, I tried to break it off, but Maya… she’s too good. she begged me to stay with you because she didn’t want to break your heart.” “That ring? It was always meant for her. You used our guilt to trap me. I’ve hated you for years.” I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. My strength vanished. I watched, numb, as he ripped the pill from my palm and shoved a gritty, dust-covered capsule into my mouth. The bitterness exploded on my tongue. I looked at him, my voice a ghost. “Why… why didn’t you just tell me?” Gabe smiled, a cruel, triumphant thing. “Because I knew you’d never believe it. You’re too narcissistic to think anyone could prefer her over you. You probably knew all along and just liked watching us suffer.” I swallowed the bitterness. I lay there on the dirt, watching the giant countdown clock hit zero. A second later, a scream that sounded like a dying animal ripped through the air. “NO!! MAYA!”

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