The day I returned from the refugee camp in Africa, my husband Asher’s mistress, Adeline, discovered she was pregnant. This happened because my mother, who suffers from dementia, ruined their celebration cake. In retaliation, Asher sent her to Adeline’s Unregulated Women’s Etiquette Camp, where she was mistreated, starved, deprived of a bed, and contracted a rare, deadly virus. I knelt in front of him, begging, “Please, I’m pleading with you. My mother has contracted a virus and needs urgent medical attention.” Without even looking up, Asher responded indifferently, “She drugged my father and caused my mother’s death. Sending her to the camp is just a way for her to learn some new skills.” “You don’t have to use her illness to gain sympathy. I know more about the camp than you do.” To save my mother, I was forced to wear revealing clothing and beg on the streets. People laughed and tore at my clothes, mocking, “Mr. Asher must be generous, letting his woman be played with by his friends.” Asher laughed with his mistress, “She’s just an old shoe. Who knows how many gang leaders have been with her? She’s filthy.” Eventually, I decided to fake my death and pursue my dreams elsewhere. Asher went mad, searching the world for any trace of me.
I lay dirty on the ground, my clothes half-torn. An old man nearby leered at me, whistling. “Enjoying the attention? You must love being ogled by men.” Asher’s teasing voice came to my ear. I shivered instinctively, and the rest of my clothes slipped off. Ignoring my dignity, I grabbed his pant leg, crying. “Asher, you promised that if I performed on the street in lingerie, you’d get my mother out of the etiquette camp.” I looked up at him, filled with hope. “Do I have to keep every promise?” Asher’s expression remained indifferent, and my heart sank. “Please, Asher, I’ll do anything…” “Enough. Addie said the camp has the best medical team. There’s no way a virus could spread.” “Your mother seduced my father and caused my mother’s death. Now you’re using her illness for sympathy. You’re both shameless.” His disdainful look drained the last of my strength. Asher was privileged from the start, and I only benefited because my mother worked as a maid for The Asher Family. From the age of three, I was always by Asher’s side. We were the best of friends until the year I turned 18, when my mother and Uncle Asher were caught together. Mrs. Asher couldn’t bear the betrayal and took her life that night. Asher didn’t make a scene; he calmly handled the funeral arrangements. He spent three years establishing himself at Asher Corp. By the time he was 20, he proposed, “Cora, a mother’s debt is paid by her daughter. I want you to stay with me to atone.” I looked at the tearful boy before me, unable to refuse. I softly agreed, “Okay.” But three years ago, on the anniversary of Mrs. Asher’s death, he brought back a woman, waking me from my sleep. “From now on, move to the storage room. The master bedroom is for Addie and me.” “And Addie’s hungry. She wants sweet and sour ribs. Go prepare them.” I stood there, confused. Before I realized what was happening, Asher dragged me out of the bedroom, putting an apron on me. I held back my emotions and served the sweet and sour ribs. But Adeline just took a bite and spat it out. “Asher, this dish is too salty. Is she targeting me on purpose?” Asher’s gaze turned sharp on me, “Why are you standing there? Do it again!” I kept remaking the sweet and sour ribs in the kitchen over and over. Each time, Adeline would take a bite and find fault. I endured the pain, raising my blistered hands from cutting the meat. “Asher, I…” “Enough, shut up. You can’t even handle a small thing.” Asher pulled Adeline into his arms, scolding me. Then he noticed my bleeding hands. The next moment, he pushed Adeline away, panic flashing in his eyes as he ran to me. “Cora, your hands are meant for holding knives.” He gently wiped the blood from my hands with a disinfectant wipe. Just then, Adeline clutched her stomach and screamed for help. “Asher, my stomach hurts…” Asher’s hand slipped in panic, driving the needle into my palm. “Addie, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He anxiously held the screaming Adeline. She sobbed quietly in his arms, “Asher, I’m scared.” Asher glanced at the table, then turned to me. “Cora, I told you the title of Mrs. Asher will always be yours. Why make things hard for Addie?” With that, he signaled the bodyguards, “Feed the remaining sweet and sour ribs to Mrs. Asher.” The bodyguards approached and restrained me. They force-fed me the food like I was a pig. The more I struggled, the more they forced it down. Until I choked on a bone, convulsing, my vision fading as I collapsed. Asher fed an orange slice to Adeline. “Sweetheart, I punished her for you. Does your stomach still hurt?” Adeline provocatively licked Asher’s finger. “Asher, tonight I want to be in your and her bedroom. Is that okay?” Asher’s desire was instantly ignited. He picked Adeline up, and the bedroom lights flickered, mixed with man’s roars and woman’s whimpers. 2 The warmth beneath me pulled me back to reality. I looked up at Asher in panic, “Asher, the baby…” His face darkened, “What baby? Whose baby?” I clutched my aching belly, speaking numbly. “Last month’s incident, did you forget?” My words softened Asher’s expression a bit. He frowned at me, “Even if you seduced me last month when you returned, who knows if the child is a bastard from Africa?” My last hope vanished. “Sister, you’re pregnant with a gang leader’s child and want to use it to bind Asher.” Adeline’s voice was loud, and bystanders all stared at me. The lingerie I wore became a label of promiscuity. I instinctively tried to avoid their gaze. Asher thought I was guilty of being exposed. He roughly grabbed my hair, ripping away my last cover. “Weren’t the gang leaders in Africa enough for you?” I struggled to break free, but my body was weak. Just then, the tablet in my bag fell out. My mother’s pleas and men’s laughter echoed. My blood froze, and I collapsed, screaming desperately. “Please, let my mom go. I’ll do anything.” My pleas didn’t earn any mercy from the old man in the video. He maliciously tied my mom to a pillar. Then he pulled out his belt, beating her crazily. Watching my mom’s naked, scarred body, I lost control, banging my head on the ground before Asher. “Asher, I’m begging you. We were wrong back then.” “But you already took revenge, making mom demented.” “I’ll give up everything, just return my mom.” I kept banging my head until it bled. A strange emotion flickered in Asher’s eyes. He was about to help me up, but Adeline interrupted. “Asher, you’ve been to my camp. How could this happen?” “This is another AI-generated video.” She cried softly, and Asher’s hand retracted. He anxiously comforted Adeline, “Sweetheart, don’t cry. I’ll make Cora apologize.” He turned and kicked me in the stomach, “How dare you slander Addie? Apologize now.” I was thrown against a sanitation facility, its sharp edge piercing my belly. I lay on the ground, bleeding, unable to tell if my heart or body hurt more. The video call continued, and my mom seemed to sense something. She looked at the camera and smiled. I realized something was wrong, frantically shouting. “No, don’t, mom…” The next moment, mom broke free and jumped from the 30th-floor balcony. Time seemed to stand still. I forgot to breathe, and the video call abruptly ended. I went mad, clutching the tablet, laughing and crying. Asher frowned, snatching the tablet and smashing it. “Enough. Crying over an AI-generated video, how ridiculous.” Watching the shattered tablet, I clutched my chest. Overwhelmed by intense pain, I couldn’t hold on, vomiting blood. “No, don’t, Mom…” In the next moment, my mom broke free from the ropes and jumped off the 30th-floor balcony. Time seemed to stand still. I stood there, frozen, unable to breathe. The video call on the tablet cut off abruptly. I clutched the tablet, tears streaming down my face as I alternated between laughter and sobs. Asher furrowed his brows, grabbed the tablet from me, and smashed it onto the ground. “Enough. Crying over an AI-generated video won’t help.” Staring at the shattered tablet, I pressed my hand to my chest. A sharp pain coursed through me, and I couldn’t hold it any longer, coughing up blood. Asher panicked, pushing Adeline aside and lifting me up. “Cora, you can’t even die without my permission.” With the last of my strength, I opened my eyes. “Asher, we’re even now.” 3. When I came to, I was lying in a hospital bed. I glanced outside the ward where Asher was on the phone with Adeline. I smirked bitterly and pulled out my phone to make a call. “I’ve decided. I want to join the International Rescue Station with you.” “And I need you to arrange a fake death service for me.” The man on the phone chuckled. “Alright, leave it to me.” I didn’t say much more, simply sending over my personal information. “Cora, what are you thinking about? The doctor said your miscarriage was due to excessive grief.” “Here, have some porridge. I made it especially for you.” Asher approached, offering a bowl of porridge. I placed my hand on my abdomen, tears falling unbidden. My mom’s body wasn’t even cold yet, and my baby was gone too. The pain in my heart was overwhelming. “Asher, from age three to thirty, we’ve been together long enough.” I didn’t look up to take the porridge, just spoke in a low tone. Asher’s hand holding the porridge shook slightly. He seemed very displeased with my words, gripping my chin angrily. “Cora, don’t be like this. I don’t like it. We can have another child.” “Besides, Addie’s due soon. Once the baby is born, we’ll register it under your name.” Forced to look up at him, I couldn’t say anything. Maybe my gaze was too calm, so Asher let go of me, leaving with just one sentence. “Cora, don’t overthink. Once you’re discharged, we can start trying for another baby.” I laughed, then cried while laughing. Asher was always like this, never understanding what I said, or maybe he just didn’t want to. I said nothing, closing my eyes in exhaustion. The image of my mother jumping off the building kept replaying in my mind. I forced myself to endure the pain and completed the discharge procedures. In an abandoned factory, I found my mother’s body. Looking at her waterlogged, pale form, I could no longer suppress my grief. Ignoring the stench, I cradled her face. In my memory, her kind smile seemed like it was just yesterday. Thunder and lightning roared in the sky, echoing the trembling of my heart. After a long while, I stood in front of Old Mr. Asher, holding my mother’s urn. “Uncle Asher, I can’t fulfill what I promised you.” When Mrs. Asher committed suicide, Old Mr. Asher asked me to hide the truth about her death. He feared Asher couldn’t handle the truth. I wanted to refuse and tell Asher the truth directly. But my mom softened, admitting she had seduced Uncle Asher. Now, because of that well-intentioned lie, she was gone forever. Old Mr. Asher looked at the urn in my hands, regretting and crying. “Cora, it’s Uncle, I’m sorry for you both. Here is twenty percent of Asher Group’s shares, as compensation.” I didn’t refuse, taking the share transfer document and leaving. 4. I returned to The Asher Family, worn out and carrying my mother’s urn. “Since you’re discharged, go make some soup for Addie.” Asher was surprised to see me, then commanded. I looked at him with a mocking smile, “Asher, you can’t control me anymore.” My words left Asher confused, panic flashing in his eyes. “Oh, sis, where did you get that box? Is it a gift for me and the baby?” Imogen’s proud voice rang out as she snatched the urn from my hands. The last thread in my heart snapped, and I lunged at her. “Give me back my stuff.” Imogen shrieked, hiding behind Asher. “West, I just took a worthless box. Sis is so stingy.” Asher frowned, looking at me with a stern voice. “Enough. It’s just a worthless box. Is there a need to fight over it?” “Asher, do you know what’s inside?” I said painfully. But Asher dismissed it with a sneer, “Who cares what’s inside? If Addie likes it, you should give it to her.” My blood froze, and I slapped Asher across the face. “That’s my mom’s urn. Do you understand an urn?” Asher was stunned, disbelief in his eyes as he looked at me. “Cora, you hit me…” His eyes showed a hint of hurt, but I had no energy for more argument. Just as I moved to retrieve the urn, Imogen tossed it into the sewer. “Oh, sorry, sis, my hand slipped.” She turned, looking at me proudly, madness in her eyes. I froze, staring at her face. A fierce hatred surged, beyond my control. “Go to hell.” I lunged at Imogen, choking her. Imogen didn’t expect my boldness, trying to resist. But I pinned her down. “Imogen, I told you I didn’t want to fight you. Why couldn’t you leave me alone?” Seeing I was about to choke Imogen into unconsciousness, Asher finally reacted. He yanked my hair, pulling me off her. “Enough, Cora, are you insane? Claiming a worthless box is an urn.” “A few days ago, I saw your mom at the camp with two new boyfriends. So promiscuous, even with dementia, she can’t stop chasing men.” I broke down, crouching and sobbing, love and hate merging in a flash. I’ve never hated Asher more than at this moment. Not even when he sent me to an African refugee camp on a whim from Imogen. In the camp, I lived a life worse than death. Any man could take advantage of me. I always fantasized Asher would look back at me. But now, that dream shattered. Mom was gone, too. Seeing my extreme sadness, Asher tried to help me up, but Imogen’s pitiful voice interrupted. “West, I think I’m going into labor.” Asher immediately released me. “Addie, don’t be afraid. I’ll get you to the hospital.” In a rush, he picked up the crying Imogen and hurried to the hospital, not forgetting to warn me before leaving. “You better pray Addie and her baby are okay.” I laughed sarcastically. “Then wish her and the baby well!” After composing myself, I retrieved my mom’s urn from the sewer. I calmly packed my things and set fire to what I couldn’t take. Then, with Remy, I boarded a plane to Ireland. Asher sent me a message with a photo of Imogen and the safe baby. “Cora, our future child will be even cuter.” I removed the SIM card and tossed it in the trash. On the other side, holding the baby, Asher felt an inexplicable agitation. After handing the baby to a nurse, he anxiously dialed my number. But all he got was an unconnected message. At that moment, Old Mr. Asher stormed over, slapping Asher hard. “You disgrace, how long will you keep this up?” Asher scoffed, “Did Cora complain to you again?” Old Mr. Asher sighed, closing his eyes in pain. “Asher, things weren’t as you thought. You hurt Cora wrongly.” He handed Asher an agreement, his hands trembling. Asher took it, confused, and glanced at it. The next second, he was stunned, looking at Old Mr. Asher in a panic. “How is this possible? Is Cora conspiring with you to deceive me again?”
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