### To save up for our wedding and the down payment on our future house, I started driving for Uber after my day job. I kept it a secret from my boyfriend, wanting to surprise him. But when I picked up my last passengers tonight, I froze. In the rearview mirror, my boyfriend of five years was getting into the backseat, his arm wrapped tightly around a young girl. He looked up, met my eyes, and instantly stiffened. He couldn’t say a single word. The destination for this ride was a luxury hotel downtown. Yet, just an hour ago, he had sent me a Snapchat saying he had to work overtime tonight and would be sleeping in the company dorms. As I started the engine, the girl suddenly leaned forward. Her voice was bubbling with a happiness she couldn’t hide. “Hi, driver. Could you please drive a bit more smoothly? I’m pregnant. Thank you so much!” I nodded numbly, my mind going completely blank. I stared at him through the rearview mirror for a long time. He kept his head lowered, refusing to make eye contact or say a word. The girl nudged him. “Babe, do you know her?” “No,” I answered before he could. In the rearview mirror, I saw him let out a visible sigh of relief, though he still didn’t dare to look up. I was already regretting taking this ride. The girl looked very young. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and her makeup-free face had that natural glow unique to pregnant women. She leaned against him, her hand resting naturally on his thigh. The GPS instructed me to take a right turn ahead, and I flicked on the blinker. The silence in the car was suffocating. The girl, probably feeling bored, started scrolling through her phone’s camera roll, occasionally holding it up to show him. “Look, babe. This is the ultrasound I took last week. The doctor said we can already hear the heartbeat.” He muttered a weak “Yeah.” I kept my eyes on him through the mirror. He kept his head down, trying his best to shrink into the seat. Five years of love and devotion suddenly felt so cheap, completely outweighed by the unborn life in the backseat. “How long have you two been married?” The words left my mouth before I could stop myself. The girl blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. “We just got married at City Hall last month. No big ceremony yet, just a small dinner with family.” She sighed, a hint of regret in her voice. “My husband is always so busy with work. We’ve been long-distance—he works here in the city, and I lived back in our hometown upstate. He finally got some time off, so I rushed over to visit him.” Long-distance. My throat tightened. His hometown was a four-hour drive away. Over the past few months, he had told me countless times that he had to go back home to handle family emergencies. I had never once doubted him. “Driver, your ring is really pretty,” the girl suddenly said, leaning closer and pointing at my left hand. I looked down at the small diamond ring on my ring finger. He had proposed to me with it last Valentine’s Day. I used to be too afraid to wear it, worried I’d scratch it. But he had insisted, saying a wedding ring was meant to be worn every day. That was when I started wearing it constantly. He had bought this ring with his very first project bonus. He told me that although it wasn’t big, he would definitely upgrade it to a massive one once he saved enough money. My mom had insisted on a solid financial foundation—a decent wedding budget and a down payment on a house. She said it was about his attitude and security for my future. To relieve the pressure on him, I drove Uber late into the night and took on freelance video editing gigs on weekends. I managed to save an extra seven hundred dollars every month. We had planned to get married at the end of this year. “It looks so much like mine,” she said, waving her left hand. “See? It’s the same simple design. My husband picked it. He said classics never go out of style.” In the rearview mirror, his head sank even lower. “What a coincidence,” I replied. “You’re already wearing the ring,” she said with a smile. “When is the big day?” I paused for a second, then spoke clearly. “We broke up.” “I just forgot to take the ring off.” ###

The girl’s smile froze on her face. She looked at me, then at herself in the mirror, probably imagining some tragic love story. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…” “It’s fine.” She leaned back into her seat. After a few seconds of silence, she couldn’t help but whisper, “It’s okay. You’ll find someone better. My older sister was with someone for years before they broke up. Now she’s married to an amazing guy.” I nodded. The man in the backseat remained silent, not uttering a single word from beginning to end. Finally, the car pulled up in front of the most luxurious hotel downtown. The neon sign flashed brightly in the night. Once the car stopped, the girl got out and wrapped her arm around his. Together, they walked into the hotel lobby. She looked up to talk to him, and he nodded, never once turning back to look at my car. I sat in my car for a long time. I turned off the AC and rolled down the window. The cool night breeze rushed in, making my eyes sting. The security guard walked over and tapped on my window, telling me I couldn’t park here for long. I told him I was leaving right away. I started the engine, but I had no idea where to drive. I looked down at the ring on my finger. They got married last month. Which meant, while I was driving Uber to save money, while I was staying up late editing videos to make extra cash, and while my heart was bursting with anticipation for our wedding at the end of the year… he had already signed the papers with someone else. He was already another woman’s husband. He was already going to be a father. And I was still working myself to the bone to ease his financial burden. I pulled over to the curb, pulled out my phone, and opened our Snapchat chat. The last message was from him at 6:23 PM: *Working late tonight. It’s going to be too late, so I’ll just crash in the company dorms. Go to bed early, babe.* I typed a few words, deleted them, typed again, and deleted them again. In the end, I only sent three words: *Let’s break up.* Sent. I slipped the ring off my finger and placed it on the center console. The top of the screen immediately showed “Ethan is typing…” I waited for a long time. The status kept flickering, but no message ever came through. I put the car in drive, ready to leave. Just as I shifted gears, a familiar figure appeared in my rearview mirror. He was running toward my car from the hotel lobby, panting heavily as he slapped his hand against my window. “Open the door! Let me explain!” His forehead was drenched in sweat, and his hair was a messy nest from the wind. I had never seen him look so pathetic. “Open the door!” he pleaded, tapping again. I unlocked the passenger side. He pulled the door open and climbed in, breathing heavily. The scent of the hotel lobby’s expensive cologne clung to him. “How did you…” “We’re done,” I cut him off. “You saw the message, right?” He froze, his lips trembling. It took him forever to say, “It’s not what you think.” “Then what is it?” “I…” He wiped his face in frustration. “She was just an accident.” ###

I looked at him, waiting to see what kind of lie he would spin next. “A few months ago, I went back to my hometown. I got too drunk… and I mistook her for you,” he explained frantically, his words spilling out of him. “It was just that one time. Who knew she would get pregnant? Her parents showed up at my family’s house, threatening to make a scene at my office if I didn’t take responsibility. I had no choice, Chloe. I really had no choice.” I stared at him. A few months ago. He did go back to his hometown, claiming his mother was sick. During that time, he kept saying how busy he was at work. He rarely came home, and whenever I called, he would hang up after just a few hurried words. “You got married last month.” “You went back home to get married, and then you told me you were traveling for a business trip.” He fell silent. “Did your parents know?” He nodded slowly. “So your entire family kept this from me.” “It wasn’t like that. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.” He grabbed my hand. His palm was slick with cold sweat. “I really love you, Chloe. Can’t you feel it after five years? She was just a mistake. Once the baby is born, we’ll get a divorce. Just wait for me, okay?” I looked at him, feeling a chill run down my spine. “You want me to wait for you?” “Just one year. Two years at most. Once she gives birth, we’ll get divorced.” “And then?” “And then we’ll get married!” he said eagerly. “We’ll have the wedding exactly as planned. I’ll pay for everything, and we’ll get the house. We have five years of history, Chloe. Can you really throw all of that away?” I yanked my hand out of his grip. “On the day of your wedding, I was out driving Uber to save up for our future.” He froze. “I drove for three to four hours every single night. I took on freelance editing gigs on weekends just to save an extra few hundred dollars. I thought you were working hard, sleeping in a cramped company dorm, but you were actually cuddling with your pregnant wife.” “Chloe…” “And now you’re asking me to wait? To wait for your divorce, wait for you to sort out your child, and then come back to marry me?” I didn’t wait for his answer. I reached over and pushed open the passenger door. “Get out.” “Chloe, let me finish.” “Finish what? Tell me more about when you got married? How you managed to lie to my face? Or how your parents helped you cover it up?” I looked at him, my voice deadly calm. “Actually, you reminded me of something. Your parents knew. So from the very beginning, your family never saw me as one of their own.” “Chloe, my mom really likes you.” “Likes me? Is that why she let you get married behind my back? Is that why she expects me to be your secret little option on the side?” He had no answer. “Get out.” “Chloe…” “Get out!” He sat there, stubborn and unmoving. I got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, and yanked the door wide open. “Get out of my car!” Only then did he slide out, standing by the curb, looking at me helplessly. “Chloe, we’ve been together for five years. Our parents have met. How can you be so heartless to just end it like this?” ###

I didn’t answer. I got back in, slammed the door shut, and started the engine. He tapped frantically on the glass from the outside, his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear a word over the engine’s roar. In the rearview mirror, he chased the car for a few steps before being swallowed by the darkness of the night. When I got back to my apartment, I stood at the door for a long time, unable to bring myself to go in. A sliver of warm light peeked through the crack under the door—the living room light I had forgotten to turn off before leaving. I pushed the door open. His slippers were sitting in the entryway. Black ones, bought on a “buy one, get one free” sale. Mine were pink. His suit, which he had picked up from the dry cleaners last week, was hanging on the coat rack. He had told me he needed it for an important meeting tomorrow. On the coffee table sat his half-finished can of soda, right next to his gaming controller. His favorite grey blanket was draped over the sofa. He always said it was the coziest thing to wrap himself in while watching TV. On the nightstand in the bedroom lay his pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and a mystery novel he was halfway through. His presence was everywhere. I sat on the sofa, staring at the floor lamp. He had picked out that lampshade, saying the warm yellow glow made the place feel like a real home. My phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat from him: *She’s leaving tomorrow. Once she’s gone, I’ll come over so we can talk this through.* I stared at it for a long time. Then, I clicked on his profile and hit block. The chat history vanished. Five years of “good morning” and “good night,” five years of “I love you” and “I miss you,” five years of daily banter—all gone in an instant. I began to pack. His clothes, his books, his video games, his skincare products, his toothbrush, his towels. I shoved everything into two large suitcases. By the time I was finished, it was 3:00 AM, and the apartment felt half-empty. The floor lamp was still glowing. Staring at the pattern on the lampshade, I remembered the day we went to the home decor store. He had told me that when we finally bought our own house, he would put tons of lamps in the living room so we could adjust the brightness at night. I had smiled and said yes, because I loved warm light. I stood up and switched the lamp off. The room plunged into darkness, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the window. The next day at noon, a loud pounding on the door woke me up. I didn’t even know what time I had finally fallen asleep. My phone had died and shut down overnight. The pounding started again, louder and more urgent this time. I looked through the peephole. It was him. He was holding a bouquet of red roses wrapped in cheap, tacky paper. I decided to ignore him and turned to walk back to the bedroom, but the knocking only grew louder. “Chloe, I know you’re in there. Open the door!” “If you don’t open up, I’m not leaving!” I stood behind the door, refusing to move. “Mom, you talk to her,” his voice called out. I froze. I cracked the door open slightly. He was standing there, but right next to him was his mother. His father stood a few paces behind them. I had met his mother many times. Whenever I visited them during the holidays, she was always polite. She would give me cards with cash and tell me we should get married early so she could help take care of the kids while she was still young. When my parents came to the city, our families had dinner together. His mother had held my mom’s hand, promising, “Don’t you worry, Sarah. Once Chloe marries into our family, I’ll treat her like my own daughter.” “Chloe, dear, open the door. Let’s have a chat,” his mother said. I opened the door fully. His mother walked in, scanning the living room. When her eyes landed on the suitcases piled near the sofa, her lips thinned. “Oh, come on. Is all of this really necessary? Why make such a big scene?” Ethan held out the flowers. “These are for you.” I didn’t take them. His father stood by the doorway, refusing to step inside, his face completely expressionless. His mother sat down on the sofa, patting the spot next to her. “Come, Chloe, sit down. Let’s talk.” I stood my ground. “Why are you just standing there? Come, sit.” “If you have something to say, say it.” His mother’s smile faltered. She glanced at Ethan, then back at me. “Chloe, look. We know our family is in the wrong here. We should have told you sooner. But think about it—how could we possibly bring this up? The girl was pregnant, and her family came banging on our door. We couldn’t just ignore it, could we?” I remained silent, listening to her excuses. “And besides,” his mother paused, “you can’t put all the blame on him. Think about it. You two have been together for so many years, but your mother’s financial demands for the house and the wedding… weren’t they a bit too high?”

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**Chapter 1** I only did him a quick favor by organizing some files when he was working overtime. The very next day, he posted two photos on his Snapchat Story with the caption: [Is this what it feels like to have a sweet girl taking care of you when you get home?] One photo was a side profile of me organizing the documents. The other was an AI-generated photo of us kissing. The entire company group chat blew up, with everyone teasing me and telling me to just marry him already. I stared at my phone in silence, then opened his direct messages. I sent him a photo of my real marriage certificate with our billionaire CEO. “Your photo is AI-generated. Want to guess if mine is real?” *** There was a dead silence for about ten seconds. Then, Ethan Carter’s message popped up. [Lmao, nice photoshop skills. It almost looked real. You didn’t seriously think I’d fall for that, did you?] He followed it with a mocking, laughing emoji. I put my phone down and glanced over at his desk. He was leaning back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. When he saw me looking, he smirked and cocked his chin at me triumphantly. I said nothing. To be honest, when I first saw his Snapchat Story last night, I didn’t think much of it. I figured he just lacked basic boundaries and liked to make tasteless jokes. I had even decided that if he apologized sincerely, I would let it slide. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Ethan strolled over to my desk. He leaned one hand on my desk, bending down to look at me. In a voice he clearly thought was incredibly charming, he whispered, “Grace, you saw the group chat, right? Don’t be mad. I was just saying out loud what you’re too shy to admit. I know you easily get embarrassed.” He let out a soft chuckle and added, “Anyway, you’re single, and I’m single. Who knows? If we hang out more, we might actually make it official.” I looked up and stared at him as if he were a complete lunatic. “Ethan, if these rumors cause serious damage to my reputation, I can sue you.” “You’d better delete those photos from the group chat right now, and make a public apology stating they were AI-generated.” The smile instantly vanished from Ethan’s face. He straightened up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Seriously? It’s just a picture. Everyone was just having some fun to liven up the workplace. Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?” I remained silent, staring coldly at him. Uncomfortable under my gaze, he muttered, “Fine, fine. I’ll delete it. You’re so high-maintenance.” He turned and walked away without apologizing. I waited all morning. Ethan did delete the photos from the company WhatsApp group. But then, he posted another photo on his Instagram Story. It was an AI-generated picture of two hands holding, dressed in wedding outfits. The caption read: [Someone got shy and told me to stop showing off. Fine, I’ll delete it because I’m a good boy. But true happiness can’t be hidden. You guys get it. 😉] The comment section immediately filled with “Hahaha” and “We totally get it, bro!” The original photo was gone, but his lie was now set in stone. And I couldn’t exactly demand he delete a photo of two anonymous, holding hands. I stared at my screen, feeling a deep sense of helplessness. *** **Chapter 2** The next morning, I arrived at the office at my usual time. When I pushed open the glass doors, the receptionist gave me a strange look. I immediately knew something was wrong. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe in Finance: [Grace, have you checked the WhatsApp group?] She also sent me a screenshot of Ethan’s Snapchat Story. It was a photo of breakfast for two, though it didn’t show who he was eating with. I opened the company-wide WhatsApp group. The unread messages were already at 999+. I scrolled up to 7:13 AM. Someone in the chat had tagged Ethan: “Hey Ethan, did Grace make that breakfast for you?!” He had replied with a deliberately vague answer: “No, no, don’t start rumors, guys.” The group chat had completely exploded. [Holy crap, Ethan, you’re a legend!] [Lmao, did you guys move in together?] [Is this the official announcement?] [Wedding bells are ringing!] [Ethan is buying us drinks tonight to celebrate!] Everyone was hyping it up. I stared at the screen for a moment, then closed the app. When I reached my desk, I froze. Sitting there was a massive bouquet of 99 red roses, beautifully wrapped. Next to it was a card that read: *To the most beautiful girl.* I picked up the bouquet and placed it directly on the floor. I ignored it completely. This was probably not the reaction Ethan had anticipated. He had probably expected me to blush, play hard to get, and accept the flowers with bashful giggles. But I didn’t say a single word to him. Around noon, he sent me a text: [I’ll put the flowers in your car later so you don’t have to carry them. Lunch together?] I glanced at the screen, locked my phone, and didn’t reply. Fifteen minutes later, he couldn’t sit still anymore. He walked over to my cubicle, leaned his hands on the partition, and loomed over me in a domineering posture. “Grace, I’m serious about this.” I kept typing on my keyboard without looking up. He laughed. “You don’t need to be shy. I know you’ve had feelings for me for a long time. I’ve noticed it ever since you brought me that bottle of water during the company retreat.” The company retreat? Water? My mind flashed back. That was three months ago, during our outdoor team-building event. It was a scorching 100-degree summer day, and he was standing under the blazing sun chatting with some guys. I was just passing by and handed him a bottle of cold water. Why? Because the cooler was right next to me. I grabbed one for myself, and simply handed another to the person standing closest to me. That was literally it. I stopped typing and finally looked up at him. “Ethan, you really don’t need to buy me flowers. If you actually want to show your appreciation, do me a favor and stay away from me. Thanks.” His face stiffened in embarrassment for a split second. “Why are you acting so distant? I get it, girls like to play hard to get. It’s fine. I can give you some time.” He tapped his knuckles on my desk divider and strolled away. I sat there, watching his back, finding the whole thing incredibly absurd. And just like that, Ethan launched a full-on campaign to “woo” me. *** **Chapter 3** Every morning, a Starbucks drink would show up at my desk. On the cup, a smiley face was drawn in Sharpie alongside the words: *For my love.* I took it to the front desk and had them return it, claiming it was “delivered to the wrong person.” Meanwhile, Ethan continued to post on his social media daily. He would upload pictures of breakfasts he allegedly cooked, beautifully plated, with captions like: [I’ll make breakfast for you every single day from now on.] And below his posts, the same group of colleagues kept teasing us. I still refused to engage. Eventually, he cornered me by the elevator in the parking garage. He was leaning against the wall, holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath. “Grace, why are you ignoring me?” “I’m not ignoring you,” I replied coldly. “I’m working.” “Then why aren’t you replying to my texts?” “Because I’m working.” He frowned, taking a step closer to me. I could smell the suffocating scent of his cheap cologne. He lowered his voice, and it sounded less like a plea and more like a threat. “You know the whole office is watching us, right? By ignoring me like this, you’re making me look like a fool.” I almost laughed out loud. “Ethan, let me make this incredibly clear one last time. That night I helped you organize those files was just a random favor. If any other colleague was drowning in work at 9 PM, I would have helped them too. It had absolutely nothing to do with you personally.” His expression darkened. “Grace, do you think I haven’t met girls like you before? You say no with your mouth, but deep down, you’re begging me to keep chasing you. Do you get a kick out of leading me on?” I let out a cold laugh. “I am not leading you—” He waved his hand, cutting me off, the self-satisfied smirk returning to his face. “Alright, alright. I get it. Girls need to keep up appearances. It’s fine, I have patience.” He turned and walked away, tossing the bouquet of baby’s breath into the trash can next to the elevator. Watching the flowers lie in the garbage, a sudden realization hit me. If I didn’t accept him, I was being ungrateful. If I fought back, I was just being dramatic, playing hard to get, or playing mind games. Ethan continued to post his vague, suggestive Snapchat Stories. Fed up with the constant teasing from my coworkers, I finally wrote in the company WhatsApp group: [Ethan and I are not in a relationship. Please stop spreading and discussing false information about me.] Ethan replied instantly: [Understood! Lesson learned! My lips are sealed! 🫡] Immediately, someone commented: [Lmao 😂] [Ethan is totally whipped!] [Is this what flirting in public looks like now?] I also tried to have a serious, private conversation with him. “Ethan, I have zero romantic interest in you. Your behavior is actively disrupting my work and personal life. If you continue, I will file a formal complaint with HR.” Ethan sat in his chair, spinning his pen, looking at me with a smirk that made my skin crawl. Before he walked away, he muttered, “Girls always say no when they mean yes.” I stood there, trembling with pure rage, taking a long time to calm down. That evening, I worked late until 8 PM. When I gathered my things to leave, I realized my car keys were missing. I tore my desk and bag apart, but they were nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to call an Uber to go home and grab my spare keys, I spotted my car in the company lot. The doors were unlocked. On the passenger seat lay a small note: [Your car was looking a bit dusty, so I took it for a quick wash. No need to thank me—just doing my boyfriend duties.] I stood by my car, shaking with fury. He had stolen my car keys from my desk. He had driven my car. He had entered my private space without my consent. This was a massive, criminal violation of my boundaries. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and took photos of the note and the unlocked car door. Then, I called a professional driver to drive my car back home. The next morning, I went to the building management office and requested the security footage of the parking garage. The video clearly showed Ethan using my keys to unlock my car at 6 PM and driving it away. Two hours later, he drove it back, locked it, and left. I copied the footage onto a USB drive and immediately went to a mechanic near the office. I had the mechanic check the entire vehicle to see if any tracking devices or cameras had been installed. After a thorough search, the mechanic shook his head and said there was nothing. SitSitting in my car after everything was done, I felt utterly exhausted. But I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t just sit back and take this anymore.

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While I was having my prenatal checkup, my husband suddenly posted a photo of a delivery room wristband on Instagram. The caption read: “Welcome to the world, little guy.” I tapped on the photo and realized the hospital name on the wristband was exactly the same private clinic where I was. Just as I was about to text him, a comment from my best friend, Harper, popped up at the bottom of the post. “Congrats on becoming a dad!” My hands shook as I called her. She stammered before finally letting the truth slip. “He’s been with that girl for five years, Chloe. We all knew.” “We just didn’t want to stress you out while you were pregnant.” I leaned against the freezing hospital wall and slowly slid down to the floor. It turned out my seven-year marriage was nothing but a performance, and everyone around me had been playing their parts perfectly. And the baby in my belly? From the very beginning, he was nothing but an unplanned accident in Julian’s perfect plan. “Chloe, don’t blame me for keeping this from you. I did it for your own good.” My best friend Harper’s voice came through the receiver. “Sienna has been with Julian for five years. She didn’t want a title, she didn’t want his money. She just wanted her baby to have a father.” “You’re still Julian’s legal wife. You’re the one carrying his baby.” “Julian promised me he wouldn’t divorce you. If you just pretend you don’t know, you can still keep your perfect life.” I squeezed the crumpled prenatal report in my hand, my fingernails digging deep into my palm. “Pretend I don’t know?” “Come on, Chloe. He’s a rich, successful man. Which man in his circle doesn’t have a little fun on the side?” Her tone became incredibly dismissive. “Your belly is so big right now. Making a scene will only hurt your baby.” “Julian’s sister, Lauren, and the rest of the family have already met Sienna. Everyone agrees that as long as your position as his wife isn’t threatened, you should just let it go.” I hung up. My stomach churned, and acid burned the back of my throat. I opened Julian’s Instagram again. I zoomed in on the photo of the hospital wristband a hundred times. The building number on the band was the seventeenth floor of this very hospital. The format of the newborn’s foot tag was identical to this high-end private clinic. The comment section was buzzing. Julian’s childhood friend, Carter: “Hidden for five years, finally out in the open. Congrats, man!” Julian’s sister, Lauren: “Thank you for your hard work, Sienna. You’ve given our family our beautiful firstborn boy!” Harper replied below: “Don’t tag the one who shouldn’t see this. She’s pregnant and can’t take the drama right now.” I scrolled down, line by line. Every single username was someone I knew. Just then, my screen lit up. It was Julian. I pressed answer. “Hey, sweetie. Are you done with your checkup?” His voice was deep, gentle, and carried a perfectly calculated touch of exhaustion. “What did the OB-GYN say? Is our baby healthy?” I stared at the bustling lobby of the hospital. “Where are you, Julian?” “I just landed. There’s an emergency project out of town that I need to supervise personally.” His tone was filled with fake regret. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you today. Did you eat a good lunch?” “Is your morning sickness still bad? I had my assistant buy some peppermint tea and cookies you like.” “I’ll be back in a few days to take you to the anatomy scan, okay?” I listened to his steady, calm breathing. His Instagram post went up at 9:43 AM today. At that exact moment, I couldn’t reach him, and I was crying alone in the corner of the hallway. “Julian.” “Yeah? What’s wrong, babe? You sound off.” “Are you really out of town?” There was a two-second silence on the other end. “Of course I am. The clients here are pretty demanding, so I might have to stay a couple more days. Why do you ask?” “Nothing. I’m just tired.” “Go home and rest, okay? I asked the housekeeper to warm up some milk for you. Be good, wait for me to get back.” The line went dead. I stood up. My legs were so weak my knees buckled before I could steady myself. I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prenatal vitamins. As I passed the reception desk, a nurse’s voice suddenly rose. “Family of Sienna Brooks! Is the family of Sienna Brooks here?” My feet froze. Sienna Brooks. The “demanding fifty-year-old female client” Julian had saved in his contacts. He had told me she was a nightmare business partner. “The birth registration form is wrong! The father’s middle name is missing a letter!” The nurse crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the recycling bin outside the counter. “Fill out a new one and bring it back! Don’t hold up the line!” I walked over, bent down, and retrieved the paper ball from the bin. I smoothed it out slowly. Mother: Sienna Brooks. Father: Julian Vance. The timestamp was 10:00 AM today. Right when I was on the fourth floor getting a fetal heart rate monitor, trembling with fear because of abnormal fetal movement. The handwriting on the paper was firm and confident. It was Julian’s. I folded the paper and slipped it into my bag.

The elevator numbers ticked up. Seventeenth floor. VIP Maternity Ward. The hallway outside the private suite was filled with luxury flower arrangements. I walked closer and read the cards. “Wishing Sienna and the baby a speedy recovery.” Carter. “Welcome to parenthood.” Harper. “My brother is finally a dad.” Lauren. The door to the suite was slightly ajar. Soft, happy laughter echoed from inside. I pushed the door open. Julian was sitting by the bedside, holding a cup of warm water, carefully feeding Sienna with a spoon. She leaned against the pillows, pale but glowing with a smug happiness. The maternity band was wrapped around her wrist. The bassinet was right beside them. Lauren was holding the swaddled newborn, smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, look at this nose, these eyes. He looks exactly like Julian.” Julian set the spoon down and reached out to gently tickle the baby’s cheek. “Yeah. He takes after me.” I stood at the doorway. Lauren turned first. Her smile froze instantly. “Ch… Chloe? What are you doing here?” Julian whipped his head around. The spoon clattered into the bowl, splashing a few drops of water onto the table. He stood up, instinctively taking a step forward to block the bed from my sight. “Chloe, let me explain.” I didn’t even look at him. “So, you’re Sienna?” Sienna’s face turned white. She clutched her stomach and pulled the blanket up, shrinking back into the bed. Julian immediately turned to comfort her, then looked back at me, his brow furrowed. “Chloe, she just gave birth. She can’t handle any stress. You’re pregnant too, don’t make a scene here.” “Let’s talk outside.” I stared at this man who had slept beside me for seven years. “A scene? As your legal wife, coming to visit your newborn bastard, how is this making a scene?” I pulled the crumpled birth registration form and my prenatal report from my bag. “I have our marriage certificate on my phone. And my checkup record is from today too.” “Julian, when you told me this morning that you were out of town on business, you were actually in this exact building, holding her hand while she gave birth?” Silence fell over the room. Lauren put the baby back into the bassinet and cleared her throat. “Chloe, it’s already happened. Don’t be so aggressive.” “Sienna has been with Julian for five years without any recognition. Now she’s finally given our family an heir.” “We can’t just pretend the child doesn’t exist, can we?” I turned to her. “So, the whole family knew. I was the only fool kept in the dark?” Sienna’s tears began to pour. “Chloe, please don’t blame Julian. It’s all my fault.” “I don’t want a title. I just wanted my baby to have a father.” She sobbed, glancing at the bassinet. “Chloe, the baby in your belly is still small, but my baby is already here… Please, don’t ruin his home on the very day he came into this world.” How hilarious. I was the one whose home was destroyed, yet now I was the villain trying to ruin theirs. Footsteps echoed outside. Harper pushed the door open. When she saw me, her expression changed. She rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Chloe, let’s go home first. Don’t do this here…” “It’s not a bad thing for a man to have two kids. It’s not like Julian can’t afford to raise them both.” Carter followed her in, chiming in. “Yeah, Chloe. It’s not like Julian is leaving you.” I looked at these people. Just yesterday, they were commenting on my Instagram posts, telling me how lucky I was. I yanked my arm out of Harper’s grip, pulled my wedding ring off my ring finger, and threw it. Clang. The diamond ring hit the metal bar of the bassinet and bounced onto the hardwood floor. “Since you three make such a perfect family, I’ll let you have him.” I turned to leave. But my wrist was suddenly grabbed in a vice grip. Julian stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “I will never divorce you. The child in your womb is also mine.”

Julian’s grip was so tight my knuckles turned white. Ignoring my struggles, he dragged me out of the hospital and shoved me into his car. The doors locked with a heavy click. The ride home was completely silent. The moment I stepped inside our house, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. In the corner of the living room stood the baby bassinet I had assembled with my own hands. On the sofa was the hospital bag I had packed weeks ago. Julian took off his coat and stepped forward to hug me, but I dodged him. His arms hung in the air, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Chloe, today was my fault.” “But I had no choice. Sienna’s baby was breech. The delivery was highly risky. I couldn’t just not be there.” His voice was incredibly calm, showing no remorse for being caught red-handed. “She just gave birth. She can’t handle any shock. And a newborn needs his father.” “You are in your third trimester now. Your pregnancy is high-risk. Getting a divorce right now will only hurt your body.” “Let’s talk about the future after you safely deliver our baby, okay?” I stared at his self-righteous face. “Julian, do you think that as long as you’re willing to sweet-talk me, I have to accept this disgusting situation?” He frowned. “Chloe, I will give you and our baby the best medical care. Private nurses, a newborn specialist. I have already arranged everything.” “All you need to do is focus on your pregnancy. Don’t worry about anything else.” He packaged his stalling tactics as responsibility. He wanted to keep both women and both children under his thumb. I didn’t argue. I turned and walked into the bedroom. I pulled open the drawer and dug out our thick, old photo album. Five years ago, he said he was on a business trip to Miami. But in the background of one photo, there was a corner of a pink dress. Three years ago, on his Amazon account, he had purchased two identical pregnancy pillows. One was shipped three days earlier than mine. During my first trimester, he sent me a playlist of prenatal music. In the memo section, there was a tiny letter “S”. I had thought it was a work note. Every page I turned brought a fresh wave of nausea. Julian walked in with a glass of warm milk and set it on the nightstand. “Chloe, stop overthinking.” “You have signs of threatened miscarriage. The medical bills for keeping this baby safe are going to be astronomical. You can’t afford that on your own.” “For the sake of the baby, stop making a scene.” He was absolutely sure I couldn’t leave him. He was sure that reality and the baby would trap me forever. I looked at him and said nothing. That night, Julian went to sleep in the study. I lay in bed, and my phone vibrated. It was a video from an unknown number. I tapped it. In the video, Julian was cradling the newborn, whispering softly. “Be good, sweetie. Daddy’s here.” From behind the camera, Sienna’s voice drifted in. “Chloe, your baby isn’t even born yet, but Julian is already calling himself Daddy to my son.” “When your baby finally comes, how much time and energy do you think Julian will have left for him?” The video cut off. My hands gripped the bedsheets. A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly bloomed in my lower abdomen. I clutched my stomach, cold sweat pouring down my back, soaking my pajamas.

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After three years of a secret marriage, the chat history between me and my husband, Ethan, who works at a private airline, has been reduced to just two words. Every time he flew a night route, he would text: [Departing.] Every time he touched down, he would text: [Landed.] Not a single extra word. My heart systemic-ached every single time. Until three o’clock one morning, when his plane ran straight into a severe thunderstorm. I was on duty in the control tower, and through my headset, I heard him flirting with the new co-pilot, Maya: “Captain Vance, if we make it out of this alive, how about you take off on me next?” The headset went silent for two seconds before Ethan let out a low, teasing chuckle. “Sure. But don’t be scared. I’ll make sure we land safely.” My fingers trembled on the console. Forcing down the panic, I kept my voice steady and guided them through the danger. The moment they landed safely, I headed straight to the airport transit hotel where he was staying. At the end of the dimly lit hallway, their shadows merged. I watched Ethan—usually so cold, disciplined, and restrained—lose complete control, acting like a plane spinning wildly off course. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. I had loved Ethan for eleven years. But falling out of love with him? It only took a single second.

I didn’t stay. I turned around and walked out of the hotel. The freezing 3 a.m. wind whipped against my neck, sending a chill straight through my chest. “Marcus, I want to apply for a transfer to the West Texas desert hub. I want to be an air traffic controller out there.” The weather there was notoriously erratic and the conditions were brutal. But it was far enough. Far enough that I would never have to wait for him to land again. Marcus Bennett, my manager, was shocked when he took my call: “Clara, are you sure you want to transfer now? Once you finish the emergency weather protocol you’ve been working on, you’re guaranteed a promotion to Deputy Chief.” I just gave a quiet hum of agreement. Marcus was one of the very few people at the airline who knew about my secret marriage to Ethan. He sounded bewildered: “Does Ethan know? I thought things were stable between you two.” I didn’t want to explain. “I just need a change of scenery,” I said flatly. He didn’t press further, only promising to fast-track the paperwork. When I got home, I kicked off my flats by the door. The tiny thud sounded deafening in the empty, silent house. I walked into the bathroom, feeling completely numb. Ethan and Maya’s breathless, flirtatious banter kept echoing in my ears. Tears finally spilled over. I turned the faucet on all the way, using the rushing water to drown out my sobs. As dawn started to break, my phone finally buzzed. A text from Ethan: [Landed.] I stared at those six letters for a long time. I remembered how, before we got married, he would send me long, excited voice notes the second he touched down, even if he was in a rush for post-flight inspections. He used to beg me not to call an Uber, insisting he would drive over to pick me up. But all that warmth had evaporated over the years. Now, it was just a mechanical check-in. I texted back: [No need to update me anymore.] He didn’t reply. I flipped my phone face down on the table, dragged my suitcase out of the closet, and started packing. There wasn’t much of me in this house anyway. The vintage airplane models he loved were bought by me. The expensive kettle I used to brew his stomach-soothing tea was bought by me. Even the motion-sensor light in the hallway was installed by me, just so he wouldn’t trip in the dark after a late-night flight. Looking back at our three years of secret marriage, Ethan barely spent any nights here. He was always busy with routes, training for upgrades, and leading the flight crew. I used to genuinely believe he was just overwhelmed with work. Now, I realized the harsh truth: he wasn’t busy. He just stopped caring once he had me. Halfway through packing, my WhatsApp work group buzzed with a new notification. I clicked it open. Last night’s severe thunderstorm incident had been flagged as an exemplary safety response. A company-wide debrief meeting was scheduled for this afternoon. There were only two key speakers listed: Ethan Vance. Maya Sterling. My fingers froze. I scrolled down. My name wasn’t there. But I was the air traffic controller on duty last night. I was the one tracking the radar echoes. I was the one who timed their go-around perfectly. I was the one who rerouted the approach sequence three times to guide them safely back. Yet, my name was entirely omitted from the debrief notice. A colleague texted in the WhatsApp group: “Captain Vance and Maya were incredible last night. I heard their coordination was textbook-perfect.” Others chimed in immediately: “For a rookie co-pilot, Maya handled that emergency like a pro.” “Yeah, the afternoon debrief is going to focus heavily on their seamless crew coordination.” Swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, I expressionlessly packed my last sweater into the suitcase. Just then, Marcus called again. “Clara, your transfer request has been officially approved.” “Also, you need to attend the debrief this afternoon. Even though Operations didn’t put you on the speaker list, you still need to be there for questioning as the on-duty controller.” I gave a flat reply. “Understood.” I walked over to the dining table, placed the signed divorce papers next to my keys, and walked out of that freezing house without looking back.

That afternoon, the airline held the official debriefing. I was called in as the on-duty controller to provide background details. They sat me all the way in the back, against the wall. Meanwhile, Maya, representing the flight crew, took center stage at the presenter’s podium. Ethan was seated close to her, casually flipping through his notes. Before Maya walked up, he reached out to straighten the water bottle she had accidentally nudged crooked. It was a small, incredibly intimate gesture. Standing in front of the projector, Maya confidently walked everyone through last night’s emergency procedures. The room erupted in frequent applause. Then came the Q&A session. Suddenly, an anonymous message popped up on the internal meeting screen. “Questioning the authenticity of Co-pilot Maya Sterling’s core contribution to last night’s emergency handling.” “The go-around recommendation, the wind shear window calculation, and the subsequent approach routing are identical to the direct instructions and weather logs of air traffic controller Clara Vance.” “Can Co-pilot Sterling explain this? Is she stealing credit for someone else’s work?” Whispers immediately broke out across the room. Maya’s face turned pale instantly. Her hand holding the clicker began to shake as she looked at Ethan with pooling eyes. Hearing the anonymous question, the heavy weight on my chest lifted slightly. I hadn’t sent that message, nor had I planned to drag this drama into a public meeting, but seeing the truth laid bare felt like a breath of fresh air. Ethan looked across the room and locked eyes with me. His brow was furrowed, his eyes cold and accusation-filled. My heart plummeted again. Ethan stood up, walked to the podium, and took the microphone. His voice was perfectly steady. “I’d like to address the anonymous question.” “Every critical decision during last night’s emergency was led entirely by me.” “Maya followed my exact directives flawlessly. As Captain, I can personally guarantee that her actions were beyond reproach.” He paused, his gaze cutting through the crowd to land heavily on me. “Clara Vance was the controller on duty. Her job was simply to follow standard protocol—managing traffic flow, maintaining separation, and relaying information. We all know that air traffic control merely supports the cockpit; they do not drive the decision-making.” The room exploded into murmurs. People were whispering, and several turned their heads to stare at me. With just a few sentences, Ethan had completely erased my judgment, my split-second scheduling, and the immense risks I had taken to keep them alive. I suddenly remembered seven years ago, the very first time I handled a heavy traffic night shift on my own. Ethan was still just a co-pilot back then. After he landed, he walked all the way to the tower to bring me a warm cup of coffee. He had looked at me and said, “Babe, it’s your voice in my headset that brings me home safely.” Back then, I thought he truly understood my worth. But now, he dismissed me as mere “support.” Beside him, Maya’s panic melted away. Ethan adjusted the mic for her, giving her a reassuring nod to continue. That look felt like a physical slap to my face. I stood up abruptly and started walking toward the stage. Ethan quickly intercepted me, grabbing my wrist so hard it hurt. “Let go,” I gasped, my voice trembling with rage. He didn’t let go. Instead, he gave a polite nod to the room. “Excuse us, we need to cross-check some operational details.” Ignoring my struggles, he dragged me out of the conference room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind us. In the quiet hallway, I wrenched my arm free. My eyes burned. “Ethan, you completely minimized my work just to protect her! What am I to you?” His expression was dark. I thought he would offer an explanation, or at least spin one of his usual elegant lies. Instead, he suddenly stepped forward, leaned down, and kissed me. It was a short, icy kiss. No warmth, no comfort, and absolutely no apology. It was a mere transactional touch before he pulled back. I froze in utter shock. Ethan stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Is that enough, Clara? Stop making a scene.” A wave of profound humiliation washed over me. Raising my hand, I slapped him across the face. His head snapped to the side. I aggressively wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Ethan, you disgust me,” I spat. Without waiting for a reaction, I turned to leave. But Maya suddenly ran out of the room, calling after me. “Clara, please come to our celebration dinner tonight!” she called out, raising her voice on purpose. “I really want to thank you publicly for guiding us back. I don’t want anyone thinking we stole your credit!” Before I could speak, Ethan stepped close and whispered in my ear: “Clara, she’s just a rookie. Cut her some slack.” “You’re my wife. Help me out here. There’s no need to sweat the small stuff.” My chest tightened. “And what she said to you on the radio last night? Was that also just a ‘rookie’ being playful?” Ethan’s brow furrowed deep. “Clara, don’t be ridiculous. There is nothing going on between us. Don’t ruin a young girl’s reputation.” “You are a professional controller. Don’t bring our marital issues into the workplace. It’s highly unprofessional.” I used to think that even if he didn’t love me, he was at least a decent, responsible man. But his behavior today completely extinguished the last spark of affection I had for him. “I’ll be at the dinner, Ethan. But I want a divorce.” A flicker of shock crossed his face. “Clara, don’t play around. You’ve been with me since you were eighteen. If you leave me, who else would want you?” I laughed, though there was no joy in it. Shoving past him coldly, I walked away.

The celebration dinner was held at the upscale hotel across from the airline headquarters. Inside the private room, the atmosphere was lively, glasses clinking in toasts. Marcus Bennett, looking flushed and happy, beamed at his star captain and the new co-pilot: “Ethan, you’re rock-steady, and Maya is incredibly sharp. One makes perfect calls, and the other executes them flawlessly. You two make an exceptional team.” “And Ethan, you’re not getting any younger. You should start thinking about your personal life. Maya might be a bit outspoken, but she’s a wonderful girl…” His matchmaking intentions couldn’t have been more obvious. The few people at the table who knew about my marriage to Ethan went dead silent, casting nervous glances my way. Ethan remained silent for a few seconds before replying smoothly, “Thanks, Marcus. But with the heavy flight schedules right now, I’m focusing strictly on work.” The smile froze on Maya’s face, turning her pale. Her eyes welled with tears as she abruptly pushed back her chair and bolted out of the room. Ethan watched her run out, frowned, and stood up to follow her. I quietly followed them out onto the hotel terrace. Maya had her back to me, her face buried in Ethan’s chest. “Why not, Ethan? I love you! I’ll work hard to be worthy of you!” Knowing colleagues were just inside, Ethan didn’t wrap his arms around her. But his silent acceptance of her closeness spoke volumes. I remembered how, whenever I tried to get close to him at the office, he would subtly but firmly step back to maintain professional distance. Ethan gently pushed her back by the shoulders and whispered, “You don’t want people saying you only got promoted because of me. Let’s get you credited for the winter weather protocol first…” A cold dread seized me. My nails dug into my palms. *What protocol?* Ethan looked up and spotted me, his pupils contracting slightly. Just then, my phone buzzed violently. I looked down. It was a message from a colleague: *’Clara! Have you seen the new announcement on the company portal? Why is Maya Sterling listed as the lead author of the high-altitude weather dispatch protocol? Didn’t you pull three consecutive all-nighters to write that?’* My heart sank. I opened the PDF on my phone, scrolling through page after page with trembling fingers. Every single line was my own writing. Even a specific typo in a technical acronym that I always made was left completely untouched. They hadn’t changed a single word. I held up the glowing screen, my voice dangerously calm. “What is the meaning of this?” Ethan glanced at the screen, his tone casual. “I let her put her name on it. She’s junior and needs the leverage for the year-end evaluations. Once she gets more flight hours, we’ll balance out your credits.” I nearly laughed out loud from sheer rage. “So, you stole my hard work to pave her career? You gave away my sleepless nights as a gift to her, without even asking me?” Ethan remained defensive, deflecting the blame: “It was a collaborative project. Maya helped organize the files, so putting her name on it is perfectly within procedure. The board makes the final decision, but as Captain, I have recommendation rights. Your contribution will be recognized later.” My voice shook. “Recognized how? By putting my name in a tiny footnote at the end of the year, like you always do?” He went quiet for a moment, then uttered words that chilled me to the bone: “Clara, you transferred to this airline just to be close to me in the first place.” “These titles and credits don’t actually matter to you.” “But they matter to Maya. She needs this resume to establish herself and climb the ladder.” My ears rang. He knew. He had always known. He knew I stayed in this stressful tower job just to coordinate with his schedule, and he knew how much this promotion meant to me. He wasn’t oblivious; he just didn’t care. He treated my love, my sacrifice, and my patience as cheap currency he could spend on another woman. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. When I opened them, my mind was entirely made up. “I’m warning you, Ethan. Stealing my intellectual property is a serious violation. If you go through with this, I will ruin both of you.” Maya immediately put on her innocent act, raising her voice so everyone could hear: “Clara, please don’t be like this! If you really want your name on *my* protocol, I don’t mind sharing the credit! Please don’t fight with Ethan because of me…” Her loud plea instantly drew a crowd near the terrace doors. People began whispering maliciously: “Is Clara losing her mind over a promotion?” “She’s just a basic controller, yet she’s trying to steal credit from the flight crew.” “She should be fired. This is embarrassing for the airline.” I stood there, marveling at the utter absurdity of it all. Ethan didn’t stop Maya. He even played along, whispering gently to her, “It’s okay, Maya. Don’t say any more.” Marcus Bennett stepped up, his face dark with disapproval. “Clara, if you have an issue with the authorship, file a formal complaint tomorrow. Stop making a fool of yourself in public.” I looked at the judgmental faces of my colleagues. I smiled, slipping my phone into my pocket. “Fine. You want me to follow procedure?” Ethan’s brow twitched. Sensing something was wrong, he reached out. “Clara…” I stepped back, dodging his hand, and walked away without another word. Ethan tried to follow, but Maya quickly grabbed his arm to hold him back. The next morning, I went straight to the ATC archives. I filed an official request to lock and seal last night’s original radio transmissions, weather logs, and flight dispatch records. The archivist was taken aback but processed the request. I signed the paperwork and kept my copy of the receipt. Then, I headed to the Internal Compliance Office and handed over a flash drive. It contained the complete, time-stamped writing logs of the weather protocol exported directly from my computer. They thought they could simply erase my name and call my work their own. But data never lies. After that, I went to HR to sign my transfer approval. I handed in my building badge. By the time I walked out of the headquarters, the sun had already set. Standing by the curb, I blocked Ethan’s number, his Snapchat, and his contact info on our internal messaging app. I locked my phone screen, gripped the handle of my suitcase, and walked into the night without a single regret. By the time the cabin doors of my flight closed and the plane began to taxi, Ethan—finally realizing the magnitude of what had happened—was desperately dialing my number. But all he got was the cold, robotic automated voice: “We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is unavailable.”

Ethan stared at his phone, his brow furrowed as the busy tone buzzed in his ear. He hung up, slammed his foot on the gas, and drove straight back to our shared apartment. But when he pushed the door open, only pitch-black silence welcomed him. The motion-sensor light in the hallway—the one I had lovingly installed for his late-night returns—remained dark. Annoyed, Ethan ripped off his tie and flipped on the overhead living room lights. The furniture was exactly as he had left it, but the warmth of my presence was entirely gone. “Clara?” Silence stretched. No warm greeting, no dinner waiting. Nothing. He marched to the bedroom and yanked open the closet doors. It was completely empty. My clothes, my shoes, and even my suitcase from the corner were gone. Ethan’s breathing turned heavy. He hurried back to the living room, where a neat stack of white paper under a glass caught his eye. With trembling hands, he picked up the papers. The bold title at the top read: DIVORCE AGREEMENT. He flipped frantically to the final page. In the bottom right corner was my signature—written in bold, decisive ink, without a hint of hesitation. Beside the papers lay my house keys, aligned perfectly. Ethan squeezed the papers so hard his knuckles turned white. He dialed my number again. Still blocked. He tried FaceTime, then Snapchat. Nothing went through. It finally sank in that he had been completely shut out of my life. Suppressing his rising panic, he tossed the papers back onto the table, refusing to believe I was actually gone for good. The following morning, the airline held its grand commendation and protocol launch event at headquarters. The conference hall was packed. Marcus Bennett sat at the head of the main table, wearing a proud grin. Maya, wearing professional makeup and an elegant dress, sat in the front row of the awardees’ section. Ethan sat right next to her. Despite looking exhausted, he maintained his poised, commanding captain’s posture. Marcus picked up the microphone and loudly announced the official integration of the high-altitude weather dispatch protocol into the airline’s standard operations. Just as Maya stood up to receive her award, the heavy double doors of the conference hall were thrown open. Three senior investigators from the Federal Air Safety Compliance Department walked in, their faces grim. Ignoring the shocked gasps, they walked straight to the podium and inserted a flash drive into the master computer. Instantly, a detailed system log flashed onto the massive projection screen. “Regarding this dispatch protocol, the Safety Compliance Department received a formal, non-anonymous report along with concrete backend data,” the lead investigator announced. His voice echoed through the mic. “The system logs prove that every single byte of this protocol—from its creation to the final draft—was uploaded under the employee ID and IP address of Clara Vance.” The room went dead silent. Every single eye in the room locked onto Maya. The smile froze on Maya’s face, and her lips began to tremble uncontrollably. Ethan’s expression hardened, and he stood up abruptly. “Investigator, there must be a mistake. The data collection was a collaborative team effort.” The investigator shot him a cold look and clicked on the next file. It was the raw audio recording from the hotel terrace the night before. Their voices echoed with painful clarity throughout the hall. “You gave away my sleepless nights as a gift to her, without even asking me?” “It was a collaborative project. Putting her name on it is perfectly within procedure.” “If you go through with this, I will ruin both of you.” When the audio finished playing, you could hear a pin drop. Marcus Bennett’s proud smile was completely gone, replaced by shock and raw fury. Maya’s knees buckled, and she slumped back into her chair, utterly defeated. Ethan stared at the screen, his tall frame swaying slightly. He finally realized that my final warning had not been an empty threat.

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At our wedding rehearsal dinner, the moment I walked into the banquet hall, I saw my grandma, who suffers from dementia, crawling on the floor like a dog. Hailey Brooks, Ethan Vance’s student intern, was tossing candies onto the floor, laughing as she shouted at her. “Crawl around the table once and bark twice, and I’ll give you a treat.” “No hands allowed. You have to pick it up with your teeth.” My grandma’s knees were shaking violently from the pain, but she still obeyed. She lay flat on the floor, picking up a candy with her mouth like a dog, which made Hailey burst into hysterical laughter. It wasn’t until she saw me that she frantically started picking up the candies from the floor with her hands. She forgot she could even stand up. She just crawled to me on her knees and held out her hands like she was showing off a treasure. “Coco…” “Eat the candy. It’s sweet!” Trembling with rage, I rushed forward and slapped Hailey hard across the face. Ethan instantly pulled her behind him, frowning as he snapped at me. “Hailey is studying physical rehab. She was just helping your grandma with behavioral response training.” “Besides, your grandma doesn’t remember anything anyway. She’ll forget it in a few minutes.” “Do you really have to throw a tantrum at our rehearsal dinner and embarrass everyone?” My grandma didn’t understand what was happening. She just nudged the candy closer to my lips, repeating in a pleading voice: “Eat, Coco.” “Eat it, and don’t cry.” She had already forgotten why she was kneeling on the floor, but she still remembered that when I was a little girl, a single candy could stop my tears. I swallowed the dust-covered candy, choosing not to argue with Ethan anymore. Instead, as I helped my grandma out of the hall, I pulled out my phone and texted our wedding planner. [Cancel the wedding in three days. Keep the deposit.]

The planner replied almost instantly, asking if I had sent the message to the wrong person. I looked back. Ethan was still leaning down to comfort Hailey, completely oblivious to the fact that I had already left. I replied calmly: [I didn’t send it to the wrong person.] This wedding, which I had spent a whole year planning. There was no longer any point in going through with it. When we got home, it took me a long time to soothe my grandma before she finally fell asleep. At eleven that night, Ethan came back. He placed a tube of ointment on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Your grandma’s knees only have some scrapes. The ointment will clear it up in a few days.” “Hailey went a bit too far today.” “I’ve already lectured her. And I won’t hold it against you that you slapped her.” Ethan stroked my back gently, just like he used to. Every time we fought, he would coax me this way. When Hailey was giving me an IV and “accidentally” missed my vein over a dozen times, he held me just like this and explained it away. On my birthday, Hailey lied about being suicidal over a breakup and kept Ethan away for the entire night. When he came back, he just held me and whispered that there wouldn’t be a next time. But after every “next time,” there was always another. Ethan probably thought that as long as he bowed his head and said a few sweet words, I would eventually forgive him, no matter how angry I was. He kissed my forehead, just like he always did. “Alright, let’s put this behind us.” “I know you won’t hold a grudge against an immature young girl.” He waited for me to hug him back like I used to. But I just lowered my eyes and said calmly, “Okay.” Ethan let out a visible sigh of relief. Before he could say anything else, his phone suddenly rang. Hailey’s crying voice came through the speaker. “Professor Vance, my mom suddenly got dizzy, and I don’t know what to do.” Ethan immediately let go of me. “Don’t cry.” “Take her to the hospital first. I’m on my way.”

Once the phone hung up, he grabbed the coat he had just taken off. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to turn back and remind me: “Get some sleep.” “It won’t look good if you have dark circles under your eyes on our wedding day.” I didn’t remind him. The wedding in three days had already been cancelled by me. Less than half an hour after Ethan left, my grandma started shivering violently in her sleep. I quickly dressed her and carried her downstairs on my back. She was so thin, nothing but skin and bones. Yet, carrying her on my back made me sweat profusely. At the hospital, I lined up alone to register, pay, and get the lab slips. By the time I got the test results, my back was completely soaked with sweat. The nurse, however, told me: “The Chief of Neurology’s schedule is completely full today.” “You can only wait in the general urgent care lobby. There are twenty-something people ahead of you.” I pleaded in a low voice, “She’s suddenly very confused and shivering. Could you please ask the specialist to just take a quick look?” The nurse shook her head helplessly. Just then, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Please add a priority slot for Dr. Harrison.” Ethan walked over with Hailey and her mother. He spoke politely to the nurse. “This is my student’s mother.” “I’ve already cleared it with Dr. Harrison. Just let her go straight in.” The nurse immediately opened the clinic door for them. Standing there, I suddenly remembered the year my grandma was first diagnosed with dementia. Back then, I couldn’t get a specialist appointment for days, so I called Ethan for help. Even though he was very close with that specialist, he refused to help me. “Just because you’re my girlfriend, I need to avoid any conflict of interest.” “The hospital has rules.” “If everyone uses personal connections to skip the line, what about the ordinary patients?” Though disappointed, I had felt proud of his integrity. Later, I arrived at the hospital at 4:00 AM to queue up, waiting for two whole days before finally getting that appointment for my grandma. But now I understood. His so-called principles were never unbreakable. I just wasn’t worth making an exception for. Hailey spotted me. Holding her mother’s arm, she feigned a look of conflict. “Chloe, did you bring your grandma here too?” “Why don’t we give this slot to your grandma?” “My mom is just a little dizzy. It’s fine if we wait a bit.” Ethan, however, frowned. “Stop messing around.” “This is the first time your mom has had these symptoms. We must rule out any immediate danger.” Only then did he look at me, his tone still calm and dismissive. “Your grandma has had this disease for years. Waiting a little longer won’t make a difference.” “Just wait out here. Once Hailey’s mom is done, I’ll see if I can squeeze your grandma in.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Okay.” Ethan’s expression softened slightly. “I’m glad you can prioritize what’s important.” It turned out that in his vocabulary, “important” never depended on who was sicker. It only depended on whether the person suffering was Hailey. He guided Hailey’s mother into the clinic. Hailey followed close beside him, casting a glance back at me. Her eyes were filled with triumph she couldn’t hide. The clinic door shut right in front of me. My grandma looked up dizzily. “Coco, let’s go home…” I squeezed her cold hand. “Grandma, just a little longer.” “We’re going to a new home soon.” Two weeks ago, my company had invited me to relocate to our UK branch to lead a new project. There happened to be a world-class care facility specializing in dementia patients near the office. I had been hesitant to leave my seven-year relationship with Ethan, so I hadn’t replied.

In this very moment, I opened my email and hit “Accept.” Then, I booked two one-way tickets to London for three days later. One for me. One for my grandma. We had seventy-two hours left before our departure. Three days from now was supposed to be the day I married him. Now, it would be the day he lost me forever. After spending half the day at the hospital, it was late at night by the time we got home. Just as I tucked my grandma in, she suddenly called out my name with complete clarity. “Chloe.” I froze. It had been a very long time since my grandma had looked at me with such lucid eyes. She looked down at the bandage on her knee, silent for a long time, before asking in a trembling voice: “Was today your rehearsal dinner?” “Did Grandma… crawl on the floor and act like a dog?” My nose stung instantly. “No.” “Grandma was just sick. You did nothing wrong.” But her eyes slowly welled with tears. “I remember.” “So many people were laughing. Someone was taking videos.” “You were wearing such a beautiful dress. You were supposed to be happy, but Grandma embarrassed you again.” She reached out to touch my face. Those hands were thin and rough, her joints heavily deformed from years of hard work. When I had a high fever as a child, it was those hands that carried me miles down a mountain road. When I couldn’t afford tuition, it was my grandma who woke up at dawn every day to sell vegetables, collecting crumpled dollar bills to pay for my school. Back then, she always said that as long as her Coco was doing well, any exhaustion was worth it. Now, she looked at her shaking hands and kept apologizing to me. “Grandma is old and senile.” “You have to take care of me, and you get laughed at because of me.” “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have fought with Ethan today.” “I shouldn’t have gone to the dinner.” I hugged her tightly. “It wasn’t because of you.” “Grandma, you are never a burden to me.” I told her that in three days, we were moving to London. There were better care centers there, and no one who knew us. My grandma listened for a long time, then finally nodded gently. “As long as my Coco doesn’t find me annoying.” I thought I had comforted her. But in the middle of the night, after finishing up some work, I pushed open her bedroom door only to find her lying quietly on the bed. She was wearing her cleanest clothes, and her gray hair was combed perfectly neat. A row of empty pill bottles sat on her nightstand. Her blood pressure pills, painkillers, and daily chronic disease medications—she had swallowed them all. She had even folded the empty blister packs neatly and put them in a plastic bag. It was as if she was terrified of making a mess of the room and causing me more trouble. Beside her, the tablet on her desk was playing the rehearsal dinner video on a loop. When Hailey posted the video on TikTok, she had proudly captioned it: [Some people act so high and mighty, but who knew her grandma would crawl like a dog for me? ~] In the video, my grandma was on all fours like a dog. In the comments section, some called her an old nuisance, while others mocked me, saying that marrying a girl with a grandma like this would surely bring shame to the groom’s family. She had watched that video seventeen times. My heart felt as if it were being violently carved out with a knife. On the table, a piece of paper was held down by a glass. The handwriting on it was shaky and uneven. [Coco, Grandma won’t embarrass you anymore.] [Go live a good life.] I rushed to the bedside, calling her name repeatedly. There was no response. Her body was already cold, but her hand was still tightly clutching that last piece of candy. It was as if, until her very last breath, she remembered to save it for me. When the paramedics arrived, the doctor took one look and shook his head with regret.

I knelt by the bed, crying my heart out, calling for my grandma over and over. But the old woman who, no matter how many times she forgot everything else, would always remember to save a candy for me, never opened her eyes again. Ethan had said she would forget the humiliation and mockery in a few minutes. But that night, my grandma didn’t wait for her next lapse of memory. She took all her medication, forever trapped in the most lucid, yet most painful night of her life. During the two days I spent handling her funeral arrangements, Ethan never showed up. From getting the death certificate, to contacting the crematorium, to picking out the urn—I did it all alone. Meanwhile, Hailey’s Instagram Stories never stopped. In her photos, she was wearing the wedding dress that was meant for me. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, adjusting her hemline. The caption read: [Chloe is throwing another tantrum and refused to come, so I had to help Professor Vance try on the dress. Gold star for his taste! This dress feels like it was custom-made for me.] Someone commented below: [If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were the ones getting married tomorrow.] Hailey quickly replied: [Shh, don’t let the old lady see this, she gets jealous so easily.] While waiting to collect my grandma’s ashes at the crematorium, Ethan finally called. “Chloe, where are you?” “The bridal shop scheduled our final fitting today. Everyone is waiting for you.” I stared at the urn in the staff member’s hands and spoke softly: “My grandma passed away.” Silence fell over the other end of the line for a few seconds. I thought he would at least ask how she died. But when Ethan spoke again, his voice held nothing but impatience. “Chloe, I know you’re still mad about Hailey.” “But no matter how angry you are, you shouldn’t lie about your grandma’s death.” “She was perfectly fine two days ago. How could she suddenly pass away?” “Since when did you become so petty?” I parted my lips, but I didn’t know how to explain. Hailey’s sweet, whiny voice drifted through the receiver. “Professor Vance, is Chloe still mad at me?” “Maybe I shouldn’t help her try on the dress anymore.” Ethan’s tone immediately softened. “Don’t worry about her.” “She’s just being petty, trying to scare me with her grandma.” “You two are about the same size. Try it on for her first.” “If anything doesn’t fit, they can alter it now.” Hailey giggled softly. “But won’t Chloe find it gross to wear it after me?” Ethan replied nonchalantly: “She’s not that dramatic.” “She can just wear it directly tomorrow at the wedding.” The call was disconnected. The staff member happened to walk over to me. “Ms. Bennett, please sign here to collect the ashes.” “My deepest condolences.” I took the urn. It was very light. The grandma who had carried me for miles on her back, sold vegetables to pay for my school, and stayed by my side for over twenty years was now nothing more than a handful of light ashes. I lowered my head, pressing my face against the cold lid of the urn. Tears fell uncontrollably. I went home and began packing my bags. My grandma didn’t have many belongings. A few old clothes, a wooden comb, and the candies she had hidden under her pillow, too precious to eat. I packed them one by one. As I passed the study, I noticed Ethan’s computer was still on. On the screen was Hailey’s graduation thesis. [A Study on Reward-Based Directive Training for Alzheimer’s Patients.] The folder contained dozens of videos of patients. Some elderly people were asked to repeatedly kneel, while others were lured with food to perform ridiculous actions.

The consent forms beside the videos were all stamped with the hospital’s official seal. But the shaky signatures of the family members were clearly written by the exact same hand. On his Snapchat, there were chat logs between Ethan and Hailey. Hailey had asked: [Professor, what if the patients’ families refuse to sign the consent forms?] Ethan replied: [Take the videos first. I’ll help you falsify the authorization forms and ethical approval later.] [Your thesis defense is the most important thing. Don’t let these procedures slow you down.] It turned out my grandma wasn’t just a toy Hailey had picked out on a whim. She had already humiliated many helpless elderly patients in the exact same way. And Ethan had known all along. He had even personally covered up everything for her. I copied all the forged authorization forms, video files, and chat logs. Along with my grandma’s medical records, death certificate, and the video circulating online, I packed them all into an envelope. I addressed it to the hospital’s ethics committee and the university’s board of directors. After mailing the report, I placed my engagement ring and house keys on the dining table. Then, holding my grandma’s urn, I dragged my suitcase to the airport. I had bought two tickets. One for me. One for my grandma. Now, she was still flying to London with me. She just couldn’t sit in the seat I had booked for her. As the plane took off, the city lights slowly disappeared beneath the clouds. Tomorrow was supposed to be my wedding day. Ethan probably still thought that as long as he stood at the altar, I would definitely show up. After a twelve-hour flight and layover, I finally arrived. The moment I turned on my phone, missed calls flooded in. The bridal shop, the wedding planner, the hospital’s disciplinary board. And Ethan. Ninety-nine missed calls in total. The last message was sent by him ten minutes ago. [Chloe, the ceremony is about to start.] [Where on earth are you?] I stared at that message for a long time before finally picking up his next call. Ethan’s voice immediately blasted through the receiver. “Chloe, you finally picked up.” “The wedding starts in fifteen minutes. Where the hell are you?” His voice was anxious, but there was no genuine worry in it. It wasn’t until the airport PA announcement echoed behind me that he suddenly fell silent. His breath hitched. “You went abroad?” “Book the next flight back right now.” “I won’t hold it against you that you tried to cancel the wedding. As long as you come back now, we still have time to rearrange the schedule.” He was still the same. With just a casual “I won’t hold it against you,” he assumed I would gratefully crawl back to him. I looked down and touched the urn in my lap. “My grandma is dead. I’m not coming back.” Ethan’s tone turned ice-cold. “Are you trying to use your grandma to lie to me again?” “Chloe, this joke isn’t funny at all.” I didn’t bother to explain. I just took a photo of my grandma’s death certificate and her suicide note, and sent them to him. After the photos were successfully sent, only heavy, ragged breathing remained on the other end of the line. It took a long time before Ethan asked in a cracked voice: “What… what is this?” “Haven’t you already seen it?” “I don’t believe it.” “She was fine just a few days ago.” “She only scraped her knee. How could she suddenly…” I cut him off. “She saw the video Hailey posted online.” “She saw herself crawling on the floor like a dog, and she saw everyone mocking her.” “She swallowed every single pill we had in the house.”

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“You went through a brutal assault. It left you with severe psychological trauma.” “But your family never gave up on you. They sent you to a private psychiatric facility for treatment.” “It took me three years of cognitive therapy to help you suppress those memories, so you could finally wake up from the nightmare and live a normal life…” Before I was discharged, the doctor warned me to let things happen naturally and never try to force my lost memories back. But when I got home, I realized things were different. The cramped, drafty apartment my family used to squeeze into was gone. In its place was a luxury penthouse right in the heart of downtown. I asked when we bought the place. My parents looked at me, their eyes filled with heartbreak. “Luna, sweetheart, we’ve always lived downtown. Did the treatment mess with your memory?” Even my sister, Chloe, who used to be selfish and bossy, had become incredibly gentle. She now personally prepared all my meals. I figured the therapy must have scrambled some of my old memories. I tried to convince myself that the happy life in front of me was the only reality. A month passed, and my family continued to pamper me. One afternoon, Chloe took me to the mall. A strange man drove up to pick us up. Once we got in, Chloe chat and laughed with him, looking incredibly close. But sitting in the back, my body went completely rigid. A cold shiver ran down my spine. A scent drifted from the vents. It was a smell I knew. A smell I could never forget. It was the exact same scent… From the night of my assault!

Under the psychiatrist’s care, I had indeed forgotten the horrific details of the crime. The pain was gone. But I could never forget the physical sensation of that night. The suffocating despair rushed back, triggered instantly by that familiar scent. “Chloe, I know a fantastic diner out in the suburbs,” the man’s voice echoed from the front. “I’ll take you and Luna there first. We can hit the mall afterward.” Hearing his voice made my skin crawl. Why was he taking us to the suburbs? Was Chloe his next target? Or was he planning to get both of us at once? My hand instinctively reached for the door handle. It was locked. The master controls were on the driver’s side. “Sure, sounds great,” Chloe agreed without a second thought. She turned her head to look at me. “Luna, this is Ethan Cole. We’re going to grab some food with him first. The fresh air out there will do you some good.” I fought to keep my voice from shaking. “I don’t want to go to the suburbs. Let’s just go straight to the mall.” I was stuck in the back. Chloe was in the passenger seat. I couldn’t whisper to her. My parents, claiming they wanted to protect me from seeing triggering news online, hadn’t bought me a smartphone yet. I couldn’t call 911. I couldn’t even text for help. Right now, I just needed to get to a crowded, safe place. Only then could I grab Chloe, run, and call the cops. “Sure, sure. We’ll go straight to the mall. Don’t worry, Luna.” “Are you just not used to being out? You’re shaking so hard. Do you feel sick?” Chloe’s concerned voice only made the chill on my back grow colder. I hadn’t even realized I was trembling. Ethan had noticed, too. Through the rearview mirror, I saw his eyes narrow. He abruptly yanked the steering wheel, turning the car onto a quiet, deserted side road. “I’ll take a shortcut and get Luna to a hospital first.” I wanted to scream that I was fine, to tell him to get back on the main highway. But that would only confirm his suspicions. Panic paralyzed me. I had no idea what to do. Violent, bloody images flashed in my mind—blurry memories of me covered in blood, being tortured within an inch of my life. Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt. Ethan slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Sounds like the engine’s acting up. I need to check under the hood.” Without waiting for a response, he got out. I pulled the door handle. Still locked. From the back of the car, I heard the trunk pop open, followed by the clanking of heavy metal tools. “Luna, what is wrong with you? You’re dripping sweat!” Chloe leaned over her seat, frantically touching my forehead. I grabbed her hand, my voice desperate. “Chloe, your friend… Ethan… there’s something wrong with him—” Before I could finish, Chloe laughed and cut me off. “What are you talking about? Ethan isn’t my boyfriend.” “He’s the guy Mom and Dad set you up with before. He stayed by your side through everything. This whole trip was planned so you two could reconnect.” “Luna, don’t tell me you’ve completely forgotten Ethan?” My… setup? I had a boyfriend? I didn’t recognize his face at all. Every instinct in my body only associated him with one thing—the terror of my assault. “No, Chloe, listen to me, Ethan is dangerous—” The car door was suddenly yanked open. Ethan stood there, holding a heavy iron wrench. “Girls, we’re stuck. The car is dead.”

“I don’t have the right tools here. I’ve already called a tow truck,” Ethan said. “Sorry about this. I guess we’ll have to hail an Uber to the hospital.” My conversation with Chloe was cut short. Ethan didn’t leave us alone for the rest of the day. But as the hours went by, he didn’t do anything to us. In fact, he behaved like a perfect gentleman. There wasn’t a single trace of violence in him. When we finally got home, Chloe’s hands were full of shopping bags—all expensive gifts Ethan had bought for us. My parents beamed from ear to ear. “Ethan is such a wonderful young man. Built his own business from scratch, and he’s so devoted to you, Luna.” “Sweetheart, most guys would have run a mile if their date went through what you did. But Ethan didn’t care. He treats you even better now. You won’t find another man like him if you tried.” The house was warm, filled with the rich aroma of my favorite dinner. Chloe led me to the bathroom to wash my hands. “By the way, Luna, when you said Ethan was ‘dangerous’ in the car… was it just because you forgot him but still felt some weird familiarity?” My parents stopped what they were doing and looked over. All three of them were smiling, waiting for my answer. I opened my mouth to tell them the truth, but a deep, sickening sense of wrongness suddenly gripped my chest. I looked toward our kitchen. It was modern, sleek, and dead silent. But I vividly remembered our old apartment. The kitchen window there was broken. It used to rattle against the frame constantly. That irritating noise was practically engraved in my soul. And Chloe. She had always been cruel and domineering. Every memory I had of her was of her bullying me. Yet, my parents claimed I was remembering it wrong. The psychiatrist had also assured me that suppressing the trauma of the assault had temporarily scrambled my other memories. I had believed them. But now, I didn’t. My memories could be scrambled, but my body’s physical reaction to terror could not. The feeling of absolute dread hadn’t faded or twisted since it woke up. It was constant. Ethan was dangerous. I could never have been in love with him. My parents and Chloe were lying to me. But why? Did the old, broken apartment actually exist? Was Chloe’s sudden sisterly love just an act? A cold dread crept up from my feet, freezing me in place. I forced a tight smile. “Yeah, Chloe. I couldn’t remember his face, but he felt so familiar. It just freaked me out a little.” Chloe let out a visible sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, Luna. We can all see how much he loves you.” “Just try to spend more time with him. Having him around will help you get back to normal faster.” I nodded, acting as natural as possible as we sat down to eat. Halfway through the meal, I asked casually, “Oh, by the way… did the police ever catch the guy who assaulted me?” The table went dead silent. My parents’ eyes turned red, and they quickly looked down at their plates. Chloe bit her lip, looking guilt-ridden. “I’m so sorry, Luna. We were useless. It was pouring rain that night, and there was no evidence left behind. The police have been looking, but… there’s been no progress.” I immediately changed the subject and stopped asking. But inside, I was desperately trying to piece together the fragments of my memory. I vaguely recalled that the place where I was taken wasn’t isolated. There must have been security cameras nearby. So why was there no progress? And why were they trying so hard to push me into the arms of Ethan, the man who triggered my ultimate terror? I didn’t dare think any further.

Overnight, the warm, cozy atmosphere of my home turned into a gilded cage. Their constant, suffocating care felt less like love and more like surveillance. I tried asking for a phone again, but they firmly refused, claiming that social media would only trigger my relapse. Going out alone was completely out of the question. The only time they gladly let me leave the house was when I agreed to see Ethan. So, swallowing my terror, I began going on “dates” with him. It was my only chance to escape the house and find some answers. “Luna, how are you feeling lately?” Ethan asked over dinner. “Your family told you about our past, right? Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’m happy to start over with you.” He took me to nice restaurants, movies, and shopping malls. He was the definition of a perfect, attentive boyfriend. I didn’t know what his game was. But I kept my guard up every single second. While we were at a busy mall, I waited until we passed a restroom. I quickly followed a kind-looking girl inside. The women’s restroom was the one place Ethan couldn’t follow me. It was my only safe zone. “Please,” I begged the girl, tears welling in my eyes. “Can I just borrow your phone for a second? It’s an emergency.” The girl looked surprised but handed it over. I immediately opened Google and searched for any local news about my assault from three years ago. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. A violent crime like that would have made the local news. How could there be no trace of it online? There was only one logical explanation. The crime was never reported. My family had lied to me. They had conspired with my abuser to cover up the crime, and then forced me into a psych ward to wipe my memory. I felt like I was drowning. What could I do? If I went to the police now, did I have any proof? Who would believe the crazy claims of a girl fresh out of a mental institution? “Hey, are you okay?” the girl asked gently. “Can I have my phone back?” Her voice snapped me back to reality. I immediately took off all my jewelry—including two expensive gold bracelets Ethan had bought me—and handed them to her. “Can we trade clothes? Just for today. Please.” The girl hesitated, but once she realized the gold was real, she agreed. After a quick change, I slipped on her hoodie, pulled up the hood, and hurried out of the mall through the back exit. I had to run. I had to find the truth. Using my hazy memories, I navigated the transit system back to our old suburban neighborhood. Sure enough, someone recognized me. “Luna? Luna Miller?” An older man, our former neighbor, stared at me in shock. “Your family sold this place years ago. What are you doing back here?” I lied and said I was just visiting an old friend, and started chatting with him. From Mr. Henderson, I learned the truth about my childhood. My parents had always favored Chloe, letting her bully me constantly. Even the neighbors felt sorry for me. My parents were just low-wage factory workers who were drowning in debt. But three years ago, they suddenly came into a massive fortune. They paid off their debts, sold the run-down apartment, and bought the luxury penthouse downtown. The cold truth hit me like a physical blow. Three years ago. The exact time of my assault. My parents had taken Ethan’s money. They didn’t just cover up the crime; they sold me back to the monster. “Luna! What do you think you’re doing here instead of being on your date with Ethan?” A sharp voice made me freeze. I spun around to see my parents and Chloe rushing toward me, their faces pale with panic. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but Chloe reached me first, throwing her arms around me and covering my mouth with her hand. My parents blocked the neighbor’s view, smiling tightly. “Sorry, Mr. Henderson. Luna’s been very sick. We just got her out of the clinic. She’s having an episode. We’re taking her home now.” They dragged me into a waiting car. Ethan was at the wheel. I was sobbing, my voice trembling with pure terror. “I… I just felt suffocated. I wanted some fresh air. I won’t run away again, I swear!” “Ethan, I had a great time today. Let’s go see that new movie tomorrow, just the two of us—” Ethan cut me off, his voice deadpan. “Stop acting, Luna.” “You figured it out, didn’t you? That’s why you’re trying to run.”

Terror, cold and suffocating, swallowed me whole. I scrambled to open the door, but my parents pinned me down from both sides. In the passenger seat, Chloe crossed her arms, looking back at me with a cold, indifferent stare. The masks were completely off. “Why?” I screamed, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, Dad, Chloe! I’m your family! How could you do this to me?” Chloe sighed. “No one is trying to hurt you, Luna.” “You’re all hurting me! You’ve been lying to me this whole time!” I lost control, screaming at the top of my lungs. “We lived in that crappy apartment our whole lives! You bought that penthouse with Ethan’s money! The neighbor told me everything! You got rich right when I got hurt!” “You never called the police! Ethan bought you off!” “What do you want from me? To hand me over to him so he can torture me for the rest of my life?” Inside my sleeve, my hand gripped a sharp metal pen I had begged from the girl at the mall. I pulled it out and pressed the tip hard against my own neck. “Keep dreaming! I’d rather die than let you give me to him!” I expected them to panic, to grab me, or to threaten me with violence. But they didn’t. Their fake, doting smiles were gone, replaced not by malice, but by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. “Luna, we lied to you, yes,” Chloe said, rubbing her temples. “But no one is trying to hurt you.” “Everything we did was to protect you.” She looked at our parents. “Should we just tell her? Our little lie seems to be making her condition worse.” I stared at them, my hand still trembling as I held the pen to my neck. I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Protect me?” “I might have lost my memory, but I’m not stupid! You covered up his crime because he paid you—” “We covered it up to keep you out of prison!” My dad suddenly roared, his face flushed. “You think your mental breakdown was because of the assault? No! It was because after we subdued the guy who attacked you, you lost your mind and killed him!” “If we had called the police, you’d be behind bars for manslaughter!” “After you killed him, your mind snapped. Ethan was indeed the guy we wanted you to marry, and he loved you enough to pay for the best psychiatrists. He spent a fortune to wipe your memory of the killing, which accidentally blurred your memory of the assault too…” Ethan reached into his pocket and threw a photograph into the backseat. In the photo, a blood-splattered, hysterical version of me was slumped over a lifeless body. They were telling me that the corpse was my attacker. The man I had killed. My mind went blank. I had absolutely no memory of this. I tried to force myself to remember, but a sharp, blinding headache ripped through my skull. My mom burst into tears, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Don’t think about it, Luna. Please. You finally got a chance at a normal life. Don’t do this to yourself…” No. This wasn’t right. I bit my tongue hard, using the pain to keep my head clear. “Even if that’s true, why hide the old apartment? Why act like it never existed?” “Because that apartment was where the assault happened,” Chloe said quietly. “We didn’t want you to wander back there and trigger a relapse.” “And yes, I wasn’t the best sister growing up. But after what happened, I was devastated. Plus, Ethan bought us the house and gave us enough money to live comfortably so we could focus entirely on taking care of you. I did it for you.” “Luna, if we wanted to hurt you, why go through all this trouble? With Ethan’s money, he could have locked you up in another country years ago.” Too much information was flooding my brain. My thoughts were in complete chaos. As the car drove back toward the city, everyone fell silent, giving me time to process. The apartment… The crime… They had a perfectly logical explanation for everything. But what about the sheer terror I felt every time I smelled Ethan’s car? Why did my body react with such violent fight-or-flight instincts whenever he got close? I looked up and caught Ethan’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He sighed. “Luna, I know you’re terrified of me.” “Every time you get in my car, your whole body tenses up, doesn’t it?” He pulled out another photo and handed it back.

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I lay on the hospital bed, taking my last shallow breaths. I looked at my daughter, Vivian. She stood by my bed, staring at me with cold, detached eyes. She was wearing a revealing, sparkly outfit from a shady VIP club. “I can make five hundred dollars a night now as a VIP hostess.” “It’s way better than the measly hundred dollars you threw at me every month.” My chest burned. I coughed up blood, desperately trying to explain, but she reached out and pulled the plug on my oxygen tank herself. “Melanie was right. You don’t deserve to be a mother.” It was only after my death, as a roaming spirit, that I learned the truth. My most trusted best friend, Melanie, had teamed up with my husband. They had pocketed the $50,000 monthly allowance I sent for Vivian, leaving her with almost nothing. Their son went to an elite private academy, throwing money around like water. Meanwhile, my daughter was forced into shady nightclubs just to buy food and survive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the exact moment I was about to transfer the $50,000. Melanie was sitting right next to me, her voice sweet and gentle: “Chloe, babe, did you send the money yet? Vivian said she wants a new Chanel bag.”

“Honey, just send Vivian the money. A girl needs some luxury items to fit in at school, right?” Looking at my husband Richard’s face, I wanted nothing more than to tear him to pieces right then and there. In my past life, after I died, my soul had lingered. I saw Melanie, my supposedly loyal best friend, snuggling into the arms of my sophisticated husband, Richard. She had laughed as she flipped through my will. “Finally, that annoying woman is dead. Now we can send our son, Leo, to boarding school in Switzerland.” “As for Vivian… Mr. Thomas’s club is always looking for ‘fresh girls.’ If we run low on cash, we’ll just send her there. She’s a useless brat, just like her mother.” Richard had nodded, his tone as casual as if they were discussing what to have for dinner. “Yes. Let’s make sure she’s put to good use.” Put to good use! Those words had shattered my remaining soul into dust. Rage erupted in my chest like hot lava, making my entire body tremble. I had actually trusted these two monsters and left my precious daughter in their hands just so I could focus on my career! I was so blind! So incredibly stupid! “Chloe? Babe? Did the transfer go through?” I snapped back to reality. I was staring into Melanie’s eyes—eyes that always looked so innocent and full of concern. She was practically leaning over my shoulder, trying to peer at my phone screen. She smelled of a sickly-sweet perfume. I used to think of her as a sister. Now, her scent just made me want to vomit. It was her. This woman who called me “babe” while sucking me dry and pushing my daughter into a living hell. I forced down the metallic taste of blood in my throat. I couldn’t panic. I couldn’t let them see through me. God gave me a second chance. I wasn’t going to waste it. Before I could speak, Richard chimed in. His voice was filled with his usual fake tenderness. “Chloe, you look so pale. Are you too tired? Don’t stress over Vivian’s allowance. Let Melanie handle it.” “Melanie has plenty of free time and she’s very detail-oriented. She’ll take great care of Vivian. You just focus on your multi-million-dollar tech projects.” He spoke beautifully, but his eyes kept darting to my phone screen with pure greed. How had I never noticed this before? His fake, hypocritical face disgusted me. Melanie immediately played along, playfully swatting Richard’s arm. “Richard, don’t say that. Chloe just loves Vivian too much.” She turned back to me, her voice softening even more. “Chloe, just hit send. It’s just a Chanel bag. If the girl wants it, buy it for her. It’s not like we’re short on cash.” Chanel? My mind flashed to a memory from my past life. I remembered seeing Melanie’s son, Leo, playing with a limited-edition toy car that cost more than ten Chanel bags. That toy was bought with the money I had sent for Vivian! My heart turned to ice, but I forced a smile. “You’re right. I shouldn’t keep her waiting.” My thumb hovered over the screen, pretending to hit confirm. Melanie’s breathing hitched. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, unable to hide her excitement. Richard also let out a quiet sigh of relief, picking up his coffee mug with a smug look of satisfaction. Just as my fingernail was about to touch the screen— I flipped my wrist and pressed the power button on the side of the phone. The screen went black. The smile on Melanie’s face froze. She stared at me in shock. Richard’s hand froze mid-air, his coffee mug hovering. His brow furrowed slightly. I looked up, meeting their searching glares, and slowly slipped the phone back into my purse. “Actually, I think I’ll drop off Vivian’s tuition and allowance at her campus in person this time.”

I found an excuse to leave the house. As soon as the cold wind hit my face, I realized I was shaking uncontrollably. Not from fear, but from pure, unadulterated hatred. The images of Richard and Melanie’s hypocritical faces played on a loop in my mind. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I got into my car, locked the doors, and immediately dialed Vivian’s number. The phone rang… and rang… Each ring felt like a hammer striking my chest. “Hello?” My daughter’s voice was hoarse and quiet. She sounded completely drained, filled with a numb acceptance of her fate. “Vivian…” My voice trembled. “It’s mom.” “Oh,” she replied. Her tone was icy and defensive. “Is something wrong? Melanie said… you didn’t even want to give me the hundred dollars this month. She said you wanted me to just figure it out on my own.” One hundred dollars? I had been sending fifty thousand dollars every single month! “Vivian, listen to me!” I interrupted her, my tone more serious and urgent than ever before. “The money I send you every month is fifty thousand dollars!” There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. After what felt like an eternity, Vivian’s voice came through, shaking. “Fifty thousand? You… you’re lying! Dad and Melanie both said I was just a burden to you. They said the hundred dollars was already charity.” Her words felt like knives slicing through my heart. “Vivian, stay exactly where you are. Don’t go anywhere. Mom is coming to get you.” After soothing Vivian, I immediately started the car and drove toward the bank. Only one thought consumed my mind: I was going to make them pay in blood! As my car rounded the corner near the high-end shopping district by the bank, I caught a glimpse of the luxury mall entrance. What I saw made my heart seize. The blood rushed to my head. Melanie was practically glued to Richard’s side. She was dressed in the latest Chanel outfit, laughing like a schoolgirl. Richard had one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, while his other hand held their beloved son, Leo. We had been married for twenty years, and Richard could never find the time to have a simple dinner with Vivian and me. Yet, he had all the time in the world to go luxury shopping with his secret family. I suppressed the urge to run them over. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone, aimed it at them, and zoomed in as far as the camera would go. “Daddy, I want this!” Leo yelled, throwing a tantrum in front of a toy store window. Melanie immediately cooed to Richard, “Oh, honey, buy it for him! It’s only twenty thousand dollars. We can just take a little bit out of Vivian’s budget, right?” Richard smiled dotingly, pulling out his credit card without a second thought. “Buy it! If my boy wants it, he gets it!” In my past life, Vivian hadn’t ended up as a club hostess, but she had been forced to become the plaything of a wealthy, disgusting older man just to pay for her college tuition. She had been physically abused night after night. And the perpetrators of her misery were right here, spending my hard-earned cash like water. I forced down the boiling rage, sent the video and my bank statements directly to my lawyer, and hired a team of private bodyguards to watch over Vivian. Only then did my heart finally settle.

When I got home, the living room lights were on. Richard was already back. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, his back to me. He was speaking on the phone in a frantic, desperate tone I had never heard before. “…I know, baby! I know! Getting Leo into that prep school is our top priority. I’ll find a way to get the two hundred thousand dollar donation fee!” “Don’t worry, Chloe is an easy target! I’ll get it from her tonight! For our son, I can squeeze out half a million if I have to!” “Yeah, love you too. Bye.” My blood boiled. Baby? Leo? Two hundred thousand dollars? Squeezing me dry for his bastard son? The cold rage in my heart quickly took over the disgust. I closed the front door, making a loud noise on purpose. Richard spun around, a flash of panic crossing his face. But he quickly adjusted his mask, putting on his usual gentle, charming smile, though his eyes remained anxious. “Chloe? You’re back. Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice carried a hint of blame, as if he hadn’t just been plotting my financial ruin a second ago. I ignored him, changed my shoes, and set my bag down. He walked over, his smile widening. “Chloe, perfect timing. I have something to discuss with you. My… my latest investment project ran into some issues. I need about three hundred thousand dollars to cover the gap. Do you think…” Here it was. Even earlier and greedier than in my past life. I looked him dead in the eye and said calmly, “No.” Richard froze. He clearly hadn’t expected me to reject him so flatly. The muscles in his face twitched as he struggled to control his anger. “Chloe, don’t joke around. Three hundred thousand is pocket change to you! This project is a guaranteed goldmine!” “I said, no,” I repeated, my voice completely flat. He snapped. His mask shattered completely, revealing a twisted, ugly snarl. He pointed a finger in my face and screamed: “Chloe! You are a cold-hearted, selfish bitch! All you care about is your precious money!” “If you weren’t always working and neglecting our family, would Vivian have turned out so messed up? Huh?” “What’s the point of making all that money? You’re a terrible mother! You’re not even half the woman Melanie is! At least she knows how to care for a child!” Each word was meant to wound me. Yes, I was a terrible mother in my past life. That was why my daughter was driven to her death by the two of you! And my hard-earned money had been funding your lavish lifestyle and your secret child! The anger burned white-hot inside me, but my face remained perfectly calm. There was no need to argue with a dead man walking. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a sharp, high-pitched notification. It was the emergency alert—from the bodyguard captain I had hired to protect Vivian! My heart sank. I opened it immediately. It wasn’t a text. It was a live video stream. The video was dimly lit. The background looked like the VIP restroom of a nightclub. Vivian was wearing a tiny, sequined dress that barely covered her. An obese man had her pinned against the wall. His filthy hands were grabbing at her legs. Vivian was sobbing, struggling with everything she had. Off-camera, a sickeningly sweet voice spoke—a voice I would recognize anywhere. It was Melanie. “Vivian, darling, don’t be ungrateful! Mr. Thomas taking an interest in you is a blessing! What future do you have with your dried-up mother? Just be a good girl.” “If you please Mr. Thomas, you’ll make way more than the hundred dollars your mother throws at you!” Then came the crude laughter of several thugs in the room. My vision went dark. I could barely stand. Vivian! My Vivian! Where were the bodyguards?! How did this happen?! Richard saw my pale face and leaned over to peek at my screen. Instead of showing any shock or concern for his own daughter, he let out a cruel sneer. “Well, well. Isn’t that your darling daughter? She’s already working? Business looks good! If she had been this smart earlier, we wouldn’t have had to worry. What a little drama queen.”

My daughter was being assaulted, and her own father was cheering it on? The final thread of my sanity snapped! I threw my phone with all my might straight at his smug, hideous face! “You monster! She is your daughter!!” The phone struck his cheekbone with a loud crack. He shrieked in pain, stumbling backward. He touched his face, saw the blood on his fingers, and his eyes filled with pure, murderous rage. “Daughter? Trash!” He spat out a mouthful of bloody spit. He lunged forward, grabbing me by my hair and pulling so hard I felt my scalp ripping! “That useless brat doesn’t deserve to be my daughter! I only have one child, and that’s my son, Leo!” My head was screaming in pain as he dragged me toward the basement stairs. I scratched at his arms, leaving deep, bloody gashes. “Let go of me! You’re insane, Richard!” “Insane? Yes! I am insane! I’ve played the perfect, submissive husband for twenty years, and I am fucking done!” He screamed insults as he violently dragged me down the stairs. He kicked open the basement door and threw me hard onto the cold concrete floor. My head spun, and my bones felt like they were shattered. Richard panted, ripping his collar open like a wild beast that had finally shed its disguise. “You want to know something, Chloe?” He knelt down, grabbing my jaw in a painful grip. He forced me to look at his triumphant face. “Right here! On this dirty couch! While you were upstairs pulling all-nighters to make millions, Melanie was down here giving me everything you couldn’t!” My stomach churned. I dry-heaved on the floor. “You absolute piece of trash!” “Me? Trash?” He laughed hysterically, his face completely distorted. “You’re the joke here! You thought you were some powerful CEO? You’re nothing but a glorified ATM! Every single penny you made went into raising my son with Melanie!” He got more and more excited, bragging about how they had played me for a fool. How they had converted Vivian’s $50,000 allowance into Leo’s elite tuition, designer clothes, and luxury toys. How they had slept together right under my nose, laughing at how oblivious I was. Every word tore my past twenty years into bloody shreds. Once he was done insulting me, he stood up, straightened his suit, and put his sophisticated mask back on. “You care so much about your darling daughter?” He sneered. He threw an old tablet onto the ground in front of me. “Watch! See how she’s earning money for her useless mother!” The tablet screen lit up, showing the live feed. It was worse than before. Vivian was forced onto her knees. Several men stood around her. Someone was forcing a bottle of alcohol down her throat while others pawed at her. Vivian’s eyes were completely vacant, like a broken doll. Her face was smeared with tears and cheap alcohol. Melanie’s voice echoed from the speaker, dripping with malice. “Yes, just like that! Let your mother see how ‘hardworking’ her daughter is!” My heart stopped. I lunged like a wild animal to grab the tablet, but Richard kicked me squarely in the ribs. “Watch her! That’s what you get for crossing me!” he laughed. “Once Mr. Thomas is done with her, you’re next! I’m going to sell both of you to the dirtiest brothels in the city!” With that, he slammed the basement door shut and locked it from the outside. Pitch blackness and absolute despair swallowed me. On the screen, the obese man was laughing as he unbuckled his belt, moving toward my trembling daughter.

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My sister, Chloe, and I were both orphans. Now, I had just reincarnated back to the day we went to the adoption agency to choose our daughters. In our past life, I adopted Lily, a quiet and silent girl, while Chloe took Mia, who was pretty and had a sweet tongue. Later, Lily’s random doodles became a global phenomenon. She made me a billionaire overnight, lifting me from a struggling office worker to generational wealth. Meanwhile, Chloe’s business was constantly blackmailed by Mia’s biological parents under the guise of “child abuse.” She ended up bankrupt and completely lost her mind. Before she died, Chloe pushed me off the rooftop of a twenty-three-story building. “Why was your daughter a lucky charm while mine was a jinx? It’s not fair!” she screamed. In this life, Chloe didn’t hesitate. She rushed straight to Lily and signed the adoption papers before I could even blink. Holding Lily—her supposed “ticket to wealth”—she flashed me a triumphant smile. “Audrey, it’s my turn to hit the jackpot in this life.” I looked at Lily, who was shivering in Chloe’s arms. Then, I looked at Mia, whom Chloe had ruthlessly cast aside. Mia was staring at me with big, tearful, timid eyes. I smiled. What Chloe didn’t understand was that a child’s future is never decided by their innate nature. It is decided by the person who raises them.

In the reception room of the adoption agency, Chloe held Lily tightly, laughing like a psychopath. “Audrey, look at this. It’s my turn to hit the jackpot in this life.” Her eyes practically shone with greed as she spoke. I knew that look all too well. It was the exact same look she had when she pushed me off that high-rise building in our past life. Greedy, maniacal, and ruthless. I didn’t say a word. I just stared at Lily in her arms. The little girl was as skinny as a beanpole, her face pale, her eyes filled with fear. She curled up in Chloe’s arms like a terrified, wounded little animal. But Chloe didn’t care about the child’s terror. She was too busy gloating. “Audrey, do you know? I dreamed about it. Lily is my lucky charm!” “Her random doodles will become a massive, global brand! She is going to make me a billionaire!” Her voice shook with pure excitement. Looking at her, I found it hilarious. In our past life, when I adopted Lily, Chloe had hugged Mia with the exact same excitement before walking away. Back then, she told me, “Audrey, Mia is so pretty and sweet. She’s definitely going to bring me good luck.” And what was the result? Mia’s biological parents tracked her down, blackmailing Chloe with false accusations of “child abuse.” Chloe’s business went under, and she completely lost her mind. In the end, she pushed me off that roof. Right before I fell, she was still cursing, “Why was your daughter a lucky charm while mine was a jinx? It’s not fair!” Not fair? I clutched my chest. The dull, agonizing pain of the fall felt as if it had happened just yesterday. Falling from the twenty-third floor, the sound of my bones shattering was still crystal clear. I remembered it was raining that day. Cold rain mixed with my blood ran into my eyes. I looked up and saw Chloe standing on the edge of the roof, her face twisted like a demon. “It’s all your fault! Everything is because of you!” She shrieked, then turned and walked away. She didn’t even give me a second glance. When I died, Lily was in Europe hosting her art exhibition. She had no idea that the mother who raised her for over ten years had been murdered by her own aunt. “Audrey? Audrey, are you even listening to me?” Chloe’s sharp voice dragged me back to reality. She had already signed the adoption papers and was getting ready to leave with Lily. “I’m leaving now. Have fun taking care of Mia,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Mia stood in the corner, her eyes red and puffy. She had been crying the entire time because Chloe had suddenly changed her mind and rejected her. The caseworker, Mrs. Gable, was still trying to reason with her. “Ms. Chloe, you clearly agreed to adopt Mia earlier…” “I changed my mind, okay?” Chloe cut her off impatiently. “Lily suits me better. It’s none of your business.” She turned and walked out without looking back. Lily struggled slightly in her arms, trying to look back at Mia. Chloe pushed Lily’s head down. “Don’t look. From now on, you’re my daughter. She has nothing to do with you.” I heard Lily whimpering quietly. It was a tiny, fragile sound, like a hurt kitten. I closed my eyes. In our past life, when Lily first came to my home, she cried just like that. She hated talking. She would always curl up in a corner and draw by herself. I was dirt poor back then, living in a damp basement, unable to even afford an air conditioner. In the sweltering heat of summer, I would buy her popsicles and sit with her in the hallway just to catch a breeze. While she drew, I would read books beside her. We barely spoke, but we found peace in each other’s company. Later, a gallery owner noticed her art and bought one of her paintings for five thousand dollars. I cried tears of joy, and so did she. We hugged each other and cried like two fools. After that, her paintings sold for higher and higher prices, eventually turning into a massive franchise. I went from a simple office worker to a self-made billionaire. I bought her a mansion, sent her to the best schools, and gave her the finest life possible. I thought we would be happy forever. Until Chloe pushed me off that building. “Audrey…” Mia’s timid voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She looked up at me, her eyes overflowing with tears. “That lady didn’t want me… Are you going to leave me behind, too?” I looked at her. In our past life, when Chloe adopted her, she had looked just as pitiful. Chloe spoiled her rotten, buying her the most expensive designer clothes and sending her to elite private schools. But Chloe didn’t know that Mia had already been brainwashed by her horrible biological parents. Those parents were absolute human trash. They had abandoned Mia at the agency on child welfare records specifically so they could track her down after she was adopted and blackmail the wealthy adoptive family. They taught Mia how to play victim, how to win sympathy, and how to milk every penny out of her adoptive mother. In our past life, the moment Chloe’s business started taking off, they showed up. They claimed Chloe was abusing Mia, threatening to sue her and demanding massive payouts. To keep things quiet, Chloe paid them a fortune. But they only got greedier, demanding more money again and again. Eventually, Chloe’s business was dragged down to bankruptcy, and she had a mental breakdown. She blamed all her failures on me. She blamed my daughter for being a lucky charm, and hers for being a curse. She believed I had stolen her luck and ruined her life. And that was why she killed me. I gently patted Mia’s head. “I will take you home,” I said. Mia’s eyes lit up for a second, then quickly dimmed. “But… that lady said I’m a jinx…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. I smiled gently. “She doesn’t know anything. A child’s future is never decided by their nature. It’s decided by the person who raises them.” I finalized the adoption paperwork for Mia and walked out of the agency with her. As we left, I glanced back. Chloe was happily putting Lily into her car, a smug, victorious smile plastered across her face.

I brought Mia back to the small apartment I bought with my savings from my past life. It wasn’t huge—just a cozy, one-bedroom apartment of about six hundred square feet. But it was a million times better than the damp basement I lived in during our past life. At least there were large windows, plenty of sunlight, and no moldy smell in the summer. Mia stood at the doorway, hesitant to step inside. “Come on in,” I said. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning the place. “This is your room.” I pushed open the bedroom door. The room wasn’t massive, but I had decorated it in advance. There were pink curtains, clean white sheets, and a small study desk. Mia froze in her tracks. “Is… is this for me?” “Of course. Who else?” I asked. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. “Mom…” She called me Mom. My heart softened for a brief second, but I quickly suppressed the emotion. I couldn’t afford to spoil her. In our past life, Chloe had ruined Mia by spoiling her too much, which eventually led to both of them being destroyed by Mia’s biological parents. In this life, I was going to raise her differently. “Don’t cry. Unpack your things, and we’ll go out for dinner,” I said. Mia wiped her tears and nodded obediently. I took her to a small diner nearby and ordered two bowls of noodles. Mia ate ravenously, finishing every last bite in no time. “Was it good?” I asked. She nodded quickly. “From now on, if you want to eat something, just tell me,” I said. “But remember, if you want something in life, you have to earn it yourself.” Mia blinked, looking slightly confused, but she nodded anyway. After dinner, I took her to a shopping mall. She stopped in front of a toy store, her eyes locked onto a beautiful doll. “Mom, can I have…” Before she could finish, I cut her off. “If you want it, buy it yourself.” Mia was stunned. “But… I don’t have any money…” “Then find a way to earn it,” I replied. “Starting today, you’ll get an allowance for doing chores around the house.” “Once you save enough, you can buy the doll.” A flicker of resentment flashed through Mia’s eyes. But she quickly hid it and nodded obediently. “Okay, Mom.” Watching her, a warning bell rang in my head. This kid wasn’t simple. In our past life, Chloe was completely fooled by Mia’s “good girl” act. On the surface, she was submissive, but her mind was always calculating. I couldn’t let my guard down. When we got home, I assigned her chores. Sweeping, dusting, and washing dishes. They were simple tasks, but she did them incredibly slowly. I didn’t rush her. I just sat on the couch, reading my book. She peeked at me several times, and seeing that I didn’t care, she had no choice but to keep working. When she finished, I inspected her work. “Not bad. Here is your allowance.” I handed her a ten-dollar bill. Mia took the bill, disappointment written all over her face. “Only ten dollars…?” she muttered under her breath. “Too little?” I asked. She immediately shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Thank you, Mom.” I smiled but said nothing. I knew she was probably cursing me in her head. But it didn’t matter. I had plenty of time to teach her. That night, lying in bed, I mapped out my future plans. I wanted to open a high-end dessert shop. In my past life, I was an excellent pastry chef. In this life, I would use those skills to build my own business empire. At the same time, I had five years to raise Mia into a decent, honest person. Five years from now, her biological parents would show up. That inevitable “extortion attempt” was actually the most crucial part of my master plan. I was going to show Chloe exactly what kind of “lucky charm” she had stolen from me. I closed my eyes, and Lily’s fragile face drifted into my mind.

My dessert shop was located right at the entrance of our neighborhood. It was small, only about two hundred square feet. But my recipes were perfected over a decade in my past life. The taste was absolutely unmatched. On opening day, I baked a hundred egg tarts, and they sold out in just two hours. The next day, I baked two hundred, and it still wasn’t enough. Within a month, my shop had become incredibly popular. Locals lined up every day, and some people even drove from across town just to buy my pastries. I was working non-stop, but I felt incredibly fulfilled. This was a million times better than sitting in a cubicle typing on a keyboard like I did in my past life. After school, Mia would come to the shop to help out. She handled the cash register, and she did a great job. I paid her daily wages, and she saved every penny diligently. A month later, she finally saved enough money and bought the doll she wanted. She hugged the doll, smiling brightly. “Mom! I bought it with my own money!” I patted her head. “Good job.” Her eyes shined with pride, but then they dimmed slightly. “Mom, can I ask you something?” she asked. “Go ahead.” “Why are you so strict with me?” she asked. “Chloe is so nice to Lily. She buys her whatever she wants.” I looked down at her. “Do you think that’s actually good for her?” I countered. Mia was stunned. “I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “Remember this, Mia: there is no such thing as a free lunch in this world,” I said. “If you want something, you have to earn it yourself.” “What other people give you can be taken away at any moment.” “Only what you earn with your own hands truly belongs to you.” Mia seemed to understand, nodding thoughtfully. Just then, the door was pushed open. Chloe walked in, dragging Lily with her. Chloe was wearing a cheap, wrinkled T-shirt, and her face looked exhausted. Lily looked even worse—pale, severely underweight, and her eyes were filled with absolute terror. My heart tightened. It had only been a month. How did they end up like this? When Chloe saw how busy my shop was, her face turned sour with jealousy. “Well, Audrey, look at you. Business is booming,” she sneered. “It’s alright,” I replied casually. “You must have used some dirty tricks!” she suddenly snapped, raising her voice. “Otherwise, how could a basic office worker like you afford a shop like this?” I looked at her, finding her jealousy pathetic. “Did you forget, Chloe? I was a professional pastry chef in our past life. Of course I know how to run a bakery.” Chloe froze, her anger flaring even hotter. “So what? Why do you get to live the good life while I…” She stopped herself. I could tell she was having a miserable time. She thought that by adopting Lily, she would instantly get rich. But Lily hadn’t shown any “miraculous artistic talent” yet. Chloe had spent all her savings, lost her job, and was now living on instant ramen. Meanwhile, I had opened a successful shop. Her mind was twisted with jealousy. Just then, Mia walked over holding a glass of lemonade. “Here is some water, Chloe,” she said politely. As Chloe reached out to grab it, Mia’s hand suddenly slipped. The lemonade splashed all over Chloe’s shirt. “Ah!” Chloe shrieked, jumping back. Mia immediately shrank behind me. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…” she sobbed, looking terrified. Chloe was furious, stamping her feet. “You little brat! You did that on purpose!” “That’s enough,” I stepped in, blocking her. “She’s just a kid. Why are you screaming at her?” Chloe glared at me. “Keep protecting her! Just wait until Lily’s talent kicks in. You’ll be begging me for money soon!” She grabbed Lily’s arm to pull her away. As she did, I noticed a dark, nasty bruise on Lily’s forearm. “Wait,” I called out, my voice dropping. “What happened to Lily’s arm?” I demanded. Chloe’s face turned pale. “None of your business!” she snapped. “Mind your own life!” She dragged Lily out of the shop. I watched their retreating figures, a heavy weight sinking into my chest.

My dessert shop was ready for a major upgrade. I had gotten in touch with a major investor, Mr. Ethan Vance. He was a prominent venture capitalist in the city, owning several successful restaurant chains. If I could secure his funding, I could turn my shop into a franchise and expand rapidly. On the day of the contract signing, I wore a professional suit and arrived early at the conference room. Mr. Vance arrived shortly after, and our meeting went incredibly well. He loved my pastries and fully approved of my business expansion plan. “Ms. Sterling, I have high hopes for your brand,” he said, smiling. “Likewise. I look forward to working with you,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. Just as he was about to shake my hand, the conference room doors were violently kicked open. Chloe burst in, followed by a middle-aged, trashy-looking couple. “Audrey! You heartless, evil bitch!” The woman rushed in, immediately grabbing my hair, screaming and slapping at me. “How dare you abuse my daughter!” she shrieked. Caught completely off guard, I felt a burning pain shoot across my face. Mr. Vance immediately stood up, shouting, “What is the meaning of this? Stop this at once!” Chloe stepped forward, pointing at me. “Mr. Vance, see for yourself! These are Mia’s biological parents.” “My sister not only abuses the poor girl, but she also locks her up and refuses to let her see her real family.” “How can you do business with a monster like her?” Mr. Vance’s face turned incredibly grim. The trashy couple kept screaming at me. “Where did you hide our daughter?” “Hand her over right now!” “Or we’re calling the cops!” Chloe kept fueling the fire. “Audrey, how could you be so cruel?” “They are Mia’s real parents. How could you keep their child from them?” She spoke with such self-righteousness, acting as if she were the hero of the story. Mr. Vance looked at me, his eyes filled with deep suspicion. “Ms. Sterling, what is going on here?” I didn’t say a word. My face was pale, and my body was shaking. Seeing me like this, Chloe looked smugger than ever. She leaned in close to my ear, whispering in a voice only I could hear: “Your lucky charm daughter is in my hands, and your little jinx has her bio-parents knocking on your door. Audrey, you lose.” Her voice was dripping with venom. I closed my eyes, my body swaying as if I were about to collapse. Chloe and the couple grinned, thinking they had completely broken me. But then, I suddenly lifted my head. I wiped away a tear that didn’t exist and looked straight at Chloe. “Chloe, who told you they are Mia’s biological parents?” Chloe froze. “What… what do you mean?” I turned to the trashy couple, my expression ice-cold. “The daughter you’re looking for isn’t with me,” I said clearly. “Your real daughter, Lily, is currently at my sister’s apartment, being beaten black and blue by her every single day.” Chloe’s face turned instantly white. The trashy couple stood there, completely dumbfounded. “What… what kind of nonsense are you talking about?” the woman shrieked. I pulled an official document from my briefcase. “This is the DNA test result for Lily and the two of you.” “A 99.99% match. Father and mother.” “The daughter you abandoned years ago is Lily.”

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Because I asked my husband to change our son’s diaper, he gave me the silent treatment and slept in his study for three days. I made his favorite dinner, hoping to make peace, but I froze at the study door. At some point, the traditional doorknob had been replaced with a smart keypad lock. Trembling, I entered our wedding anniversary, then our son’s birthday… All incorrect. Until, guided by some ghost of a suspicion, I entered her birthday. The lock clicked. The door swung open. His study was spotless and elegantly decorated. The piano by the window was dust-free. Stacks of handwritten letters were neatly arranged. My eyes stung, and a wave of exhaustion washed over me. So, it wasn’t that he didn’t have time. He just didn’t want to spare a single second for me and our son. I stood at the doorway, but I lost the courage to step inside. I remembered the night I had a raging fever and begged him to watch our baby for just half a day. To my horror, less than five minutes after taking him, he dumped our crying son back into my arms. Then, he locked himself in his study for the rest of the afternoon. The baby cried hysterically, but Julian acted like he was completely deaf. I coughed until my chest burned, and he didn’t show a shred of concern. In the end, I had to drag my sick body out of bed to take care of our baby. Because I hadn’t fully recovered, I ended up passing the flu to my son. During that time, my life was a living hell. I didn’t get a single night of decent sleep. Even though we lived under the same roof, Julian didn’t offer a single word of comfort. He kept himself locked in his study, playing the piano and painting. Nothing could interrupt his precious leisure time. Whenever I asked him to help with chores, he would reject me with self-righteous anger. “Chloe, can you stop picking fights? You know this is my scheduled time for writing poetry. I don’t have time for chores!” “Chloe, it’s just a small chore. Why can’t you just do it yourself? Why do you have to annoy me?” Because of this, we had countless screaming matches. Every single time, I was the one crying hysterically. Meanwhile, Julian would look at me with a cold face and ask, “Chloe, does it pain you to see me relaxing for even a second?” Over time, I started to blame myself. I wondered if I was truly just a bitter, narrow-minded wife who couldn’t stand her husband’s happiness. So, to avoid more fights, I took over everything. Housework, childcare, endless errands—I carried it all alone. I was naive enough to think I had found the secret to a peaceful marriage. But today, looking at this room, I realized how incredibly stupid and pathetic I had been. It wasn’t that Julian didn’t know how to do these things. He just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to spend a single drop of energy on me, on our son, or on this home. He only cared about protecting his personal sanctuary from any disturbance. As for everything else? He didn’t give a damn. My gaze eventually fell on an unfinished oil painting on his easel. With just a few strokes, the figure on the canvas was rendered lifelike. It was obvious how much passion and care went into it. The questions that had plagued me for years suddenly had an answer. It was simple: My son and I were just not worth his effort. My heart ached terribly. I was about to close the door when hurried footsteps cut me off. Julian ran in, panting, with beads of sweat on his forehead. “Chloe! What are you doing in my study? How many times have I told you not to come in here? Do you just live to make my life miserable?!” I opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came out. As his wife, being forbidden from entering my own husband’s room made me feel like a joke. To Julian, my silence was a confession of guilt. He shoved me out of the way in a fit of rage. Unprepared, I stumbled and banged my hip hard against the doorframe. A sharp pain made me gasp.

Julian didn’t even look at me. He rushed past me into the room, checking to see if I, the intruder, had ruined his precious sanctuary. Once he saw everything was untouched, he immediately locked the door and reset the passcode right in front of my face. Done, he turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Chloe, I hope this is the first and last time!” Holding back the tears and the pain in my hip, I stood up straight. “Julian, do you have nothing to explain to me?” Julian sneered. “What’s there to explain? Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I don’t get a right to privacy!” “Chloe, do you even know what boundaries are?” My heart sank into a dark, empty pit. “Julian, what do my son and I actually mean to you?” Julian frowned, giving me that familiar, irritated “here we go again” look. “Chloe, can you stop making a mountain out of a molehill? Do you have any idea how exhausting and unattractive you are when you act like this?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh? And who is attractive to you then? Vivian?” Julian’s face went pale. “You saw the painting! Chloe, do you have any respect for privacy at all?!” I refused to back down. “And what about you, Julian? You lock yourself in this room all day, ignoring me and our son. Do you have any respect for your responsibilities as a father and a husband?” Julian’s face flushed with anger. “You are completely delusional!” With that, he turned on his heel to leave. Those words ignited the rage I had suppressed for years. I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Julian! You are not leaving this house until you explain yourself!” Julian looked down at me with pure disdain. “Explain to you? As if you’d even understand.” “Vivian is the creative director of a major art gallery. She has handled thousands of masterpieces over the years. You’re just a housewife, Chloe. How can you even compare to her?” His words felt like a poisoned arrow piercing right through my heart. Blinking back tears, I raised my voice. “Julian, we went to the exact same college! I sacrificed my career to take care of you, our son, and this house! Even if you don’t love me, you should at least respect my sacrifice! How dare you look down on me!” Julian let out a mocking laugh. “So what? Look at yourself now. All you do is worry about groceries, dirty diapers, and dinner. You’ve been out of touch with the real world for years. Honestly, I’m the only one who would tolerate you. You should be grateful, Chloe.” My heart shattered. “Julian, do you really not know why I couldn’t go back to work?” Julian sneered. “Whatever the reason, it was your own choice. Stop trying to guilt-trip me.” I stared at him in utter disbelief. I couldn’t believe he actually thought this way. “Julian, when my maternity leave ended and I wanted to go back to work, your parents refused to help. You said you didn’t trust strangers to babysit. What was I supposed to do?!” At the mention of his parents, Julian got even angrier. “Leave my parents out of this! They’re old and in poor health. Besides, you’re the mother. If you don’t take care of the kid, who will?” “And what about you? Aren’t you his father?!” Julian snapped, “Chloe, stop being hysterical! We had a clear division of labor: I work outside, you take care of the home. Isn’t that fair?” “I work hard all day at my job. In my limited free time, I just want to do what I love. Why do you have to be so incredibly selfish?!” “I’m selfish?” I pointed at my own chest, laughing in sheer disbelief. “Julian, do you hear yourself?” “Every little thing in this house is done by me. If it weren’t for me carrying your weight, where would you get the time to paint, write, and enjoy your peaceful life?” Julian waved his hand dismissively. “If you don’t want to do it, then don’t. Stop acting like you’re some kind of martyr.” “This is exactly why you can’t compare to Vivian. She always focuses on finding solutions instead of constantly whining and complaining.” I wanted to solve problems too. But household chores are a never-ending cycle, not a one-time fix. From start to finish, he simply refused to see my sacrifice. He refused to acknowledge my value. Deeply exhausted, I suddenly lost all desire to argue with him. Suppressing the pain in my chest and the tears in my eyes, I turned around and walked back to my bedroom alone, leaving him standing there. It was the first time I had ever walked away first. The next morning, I had to pick up my son from my mother’s place. I got up early, dressed nicely, and made myself a simple breakfast. A few minutes later, Julian walked out of his study, yawning. Seeing the empty dining table, his face darkened. “Where’s my breakfast?” I swallowed my last bite of toast and spoke in a cold, professional tone. “The ingredients are in the fridge. If you’re hungry, make it yourself.” Julian’s face twisted in anger. “Chloe, are you really going to keep playing these childish games? Do you seriously think I can’t survive without you?” My face remained neutral. I put my plate in the sink, walked right past him, and headed for the door. Julian yelled behind me, “Fine, Chloe! Go ahead! Just don’t come crying to me when you regret this!” My response was the loud, final thud of the front door closing. That afternoon, I took my son out to eat. Around dinner time, Julian actually sent me a Snapchat message—a rare occurrence—asking when we would be back. I read it but didn’t reply. I took my time, enjoying a nice dinner with my son before slowly heading home. When I carried my son through the front door, I saw Julian sitting at the dining table. He had cooked a nice three-course meal for himself and was eating greedily. Seeing me walk in, he let out a loud, mocking snort. I didn’t even look at him. I carried my son straight to the bedroom.

After putting my son to sleep, I went to the laundry room to collect the clothes. I only folded my son’s and mine. Julian, who was watching from the hallway, snapped, “Chloe, do you really have to be this dramatic over a stupid fight?” I ignored him, walked past him, and returned to my room. When I came out after putting the clothes away, Julian had left a pile of dirty dishes on the table and locked himself in his study again. This time, I didn’t care. I went straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner for my son and myself. As the scent of my cooking filled the apartment, Julian opened his study door. Seeing our son sitting on the play mat, Julian did something completely out of character. He picked him up and started playing with him, constantly glancing at me to make sure I was watching. When I finished cooking, I set the table with only two sets of forks and plates—for me and my son. Julian stood there, holding our baby, his face turning red with anger. “Chloe, what the hell is this supposed to mean?!” I took my son from his arms and threw his own words back at him in the same cold tone. “If you want to eat, make it yourself.” Julian laughed in pure anger. “Fine, Chloe. You’re really something!” I ignored him completely, put my son in his high chair, and focused on feeding him. Julian stood there for a few more minutes, hoping I would back down. When I didn’t even look up, he stormed back into his study, slamming the door. I didn’t try to please him. After we finished, I scraped the leftovers straight into the trash. If he was hungry, he could feed himself. Before, I had been foolishly worried about his health, rushing home from miles away just to cook him a fresh meal. No more. The next morning, I turned off my alarm. I snuggled with my son and slept in, not caring when Julian left for work. Over the next few days, Julian and I lived like strangers in a silent war. The explosion finally happened when Julian realized his dirty laundry had been sitting in the basket for three days. He grabbed the laundry basket, marched into the living room, and dumped it on the floor in front of me. “Chloe, what is your problem?!” he roared. I calmly stepped over to my son’s room, shut the door to protect his ears, and turned to Julian. “Didn’t you say it yourself? If I don’t want to do it, I don’t have to.” Julian choked on his rage. “Then I guess I don’t have to pay for the household expenses either, right?!” I shrugged, completely unfazed. “Do whatever you want.” For years, most of his income had been spent on his “artistic” lifestyle anyway. The allowance he gave me barely covered the groceries. If I hadn’t been doing freelance graphic design work on the side to support us, my son and I would have been on the streets long ago. “Fine! You’re really pushing it, Chloe!” Julian kicked the laundry basket across the room and locked himself back in his study. My heart felt absolutely nothing. I turned off the TV, walked into my bedroom, and went to sleep with my son. In the middle of the night, I woke up to get a glass of water. Looking out toward the balcony, I saw Julian standing in the moonlight, pouring detergent into the washing machine. His white work shirts were already freshly hand-washed, hanging on the rack and blowing in the wind. A bitter sting hit my chest. So, he did know how to do laundry. He did know how to wash clothes. He just chose not to. The next day, I dropped my son off at daycare. I went home, polished my resume, and started looking for full-time jobs online. Julian was surprisingly sitting in the living room. Seeing me busy at my laptop, he crept over. When he saw I was looking at job postings, he immediately sneered. “Chloe, you’ve been a housewife for years. What kind of job do you think you can actually get?” I didn’t reply. I grabbed my printed resume, walked right past him, and headed out for my interview. Julian’s face twisted into an even uglier scowl. After the interview, I rushed to the daycare to pick up my son. On the way back, I got a text from Julian: [I have a friend coming over tonight. Make a nice dinner.] I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his guests, so I stopped by the supermarket and bought groceries. But when I carried the heavy bags and my son through the front door, my blood ran cold with rage.

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It was my second day at the company, which happened to be the day they announced who got the full-time offer after our internship. The moment I stepped into the office, I heard Elena Vance crying hysterically. “This is bullshit! I worked my ass off for three months, and she just shows up yesterday and steals the only full-time position?!” I sensed something was off. Frowning, I asked, “Who stole your position?” Elena immediately splashed a cup of water right onto my face. She glared at me with pure hatred. “You have the nerve to ask? Everyone in this department knew that job was mine. But the moment you showed up, the manager told me I was out!” Our coworkers chimed in, pointing fingers at me. “We all saw how hard Elena worked. That full-time offer should be hers!” “A nepo baby dropping in out of nowhere to steal someone else’s hard work? Have some shame!” I pointed at myself, my mind filled with question marks. Are these people insane? I am the freaking owner of this company!

I suppressed my anger and tried to explain calmly, “From what I know, Elena, you lost the offer because you ghosted a major client. What does that have to do with me?” A flicker of guilt flashed through Elena’s eyes, but she quickly slammed her hand on the desk and shrieked, “That is a goddamn lie! I worked day and night to secure clients! I drank myself to a stomach ulcer for this company, and you try to ruin me with one pathetic rumor?!” Her face turned red, and she turned to the crowd, playing the victim. “Everyone, we need to boycott this liar! If we let this nepo baby do whatever she wants, she’ll be running the whole department!” Wow. Actually, I do run this entire company. I crossed my arms and looked at her half-amused. “I am the owner of this company. I hold sixty percent of the shares. Elena, I was actually going to give you a generous severance package. But now? You won’t get a single penny.” The office went dead silent. Elena froze for a few seconds. Then, she burst into loud, mocking laughter. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? Everyone knows the owner of Monroe Corp is Liam Monroe. If you’re going to fake an identity, at least do your research!” The crowd burst into snickers. “Do you believe she’s the owner, or do you believe I’m Elon Musk?” “Chloe Monroe must have fried her brain when she was a kid. Look at her, she’s practically drooling. Just because you have the same last name as the boss doesn’t mean you can play princess. Do you think we’re stupid?” Faced with their mockery, I took a deep breath. Last month, Liam had a sudden heart relapse. He flew me back from Europe overnight, made me sign the share transfer, and asked me to go undercover at this branch to inspect the grassroots level. The official press release isn’t until next week. That’s why nobody knows the boss has already changed. I didn’t want to waste my breath arguing. I knew they wouldn’t believe me anyway, so I turned to walk toward Manager Howard’s office. But Elena blocked my path, a nasty smirk on her face. “What, going to run to Howard to save you?” The coworkers let out ugly laughs, as if they had just uncovered a dirty secret. “No wonder she’s so arrogant. She’s sleeping with Manager Howard! Some people really have no shame, sleeping with a married man to get ahead in the workplace!” “She looks so innocent, but she’s just a cheap slut who seduces older men. How does someone like her even get hired?” The malicious insults washed over me like a toxic wave. My hands clenched into tight fists. I was shaking with rage. But they outnumbered me. Fighting them physically right now would be foolish. So, I violently shoved a nearby desk. The computer, keyboard, and files crashed to the floor with a loud bang. The door of the manager’s office at the very end of the hall finally swung open. Howard roared, “Who the hell is making all this noise?!” I smirked. “Howard! Get out here and control your staff. They are literally stepping on their boss!” I sneered in my head. Elena, and all you enablers, I will make you pay.

Howard’s arrival made the crowd instantly shut their mouths. I looked at the smug Elena and said coldly, “Now, pack your trash and get the hell out of here!” But she didn’t move. Instead, she raised her chin even higher. I frowned. To my surprise, Howard walked right past me. He bowed and scraped to Elena with a disgusting, sycophantic smile. “Oh, Elena, sweetie! I just got a call from Mr. Grant. I had no idea you had a relationship with him! Forget a full-time offer—if you want my manager position, it’s yours!” Everyone gasped. My frown deepened. Mr. Grant? Which Mr. Grant? Elena raised her chin proudly, a pink flush of vanity on her cheeks. “Julian is so extra. I told him I wanted to get into this company on my own merit. I can’t believe he still called you.” The office erupted into whispers. “Julian Grant?! Elena actually knows Julian Grant? They must be really close!” “I can’t believe Elena has such a powerful boyfriend but still worked so hard and treated us so nicely. Unlike some trash who sleeps with the manager and bullies Elena!” I ignored their whispers. My mind was a complete mess. Julian Grant… Wasn’t that the fiancé my parents arranged for me? Elena looked down her nose at me. “Howard, I don’t care about some entry-level job. I’m going to be Mrs. Grant soon. I was just here to experience how the commoners live. But this bitch dared to insult me and pretend to be the owner. She needs a lesson.” With that, she violently slapped me across the face. The force of the blow made my knees buckle. I fell to the floor, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I was furious. I grew up pampered by my parents and spoiled by Liam. I had never received such humiliation in my entire life. I grabbed a cup of hot coffee from a nearby desk and threw it right at Elena’s face. She let out a piercing shriek. Her face contorted in pain. “Ah! My face!” “Howard! Destroy her!” I stood my ground. Howard should know who I am. He wouldn’t dare touch me unless he wanted to ruin his own career. But apparently, Howard didn’t care about his career anymore. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them behind my back. His greasy eyes traveled up and down my body as he dragged me into his private office. The coworkers watched the show, and not a single person stepped in to help. He threw me onto the couch. The sound of the door locking made a chill of dread run down my spine. I quietly reached into my pocket, trying to call Liam on Snapchat. But Howard slapped the phone out of my hand. The screen shattered into pieces on the floor. Howard sneered, showing his yellow, decaying teeth. “You little bitch! Trying to call for help? No way! Do you know who you messed with? That’s Julian Grant’s woman!” He leaned in closer, whispering creepily, “Since everyone already thinks you’re sleeping with me, and you do have a pretty face… why don’t you just submit to me?” He leaned down, sniffing my neck. I felt like throwing up. I screamed, “Get the hell off me! I am Liam Monroe’s sister! I am the new CEO! Touch me and I will make sure you rot in prison!” Howard didn’t believe a word. He violently tore open my shirt. The cold air hitting my skin made goosebumps break out all over my body. “You’re the CEO? Then I’m the King of England! It’s only your second day here and you’re already talking out of your ass. Do you think I’m stupid?” He pinned me down with his heavy body. I couldn’t move. I fought with all my might, but the physical difference was too great. As I struggled, I suddenly saw a row of tripods and cameras set up right outside the glass window of his office. They were live-streaming this!

Elena stood outside, a sadistic smile on her face. She yelled into her phone, “Come look, everyone! The new girl, Chloe Monroe, tried to seduce the department manager to steal my job! I worked so hard for three months, and she tried to take it away by selling her body! Where is the justice?!” Inside, Howard suddenly let go of me, dropped to his knees, and squeezed out fake tears. “I’m a married man! She drugged my coffee and forced herself into my office! She even threatened to commit suicide if I didn’t give her the job!” Howard changed his face faster than a professional actor. In just a few words, he made me the predator. This “office scandal” drama instantly attracted over a hundred thousand viewers to the TikTok live stream. The comments section went wild, demanding I be fired and canceled. Vile insults flooded the screen. “Is this the girl from the local strip club?” “I’d pay fifty bucks to have her for a night.” “People these days will do anything for money. So shameless!” “Can we get some sympathy for the manager? He has a family to feed. He was forced into this!” As the viewer count skyrocketed, the internet mob went out of control. Some “righteous” trolls photoshopped my face onto pornographic images and shared them across Twitter. Others created memorial photos of me, telling me to go kill myself. Elena watched the comments roll in, laughing hysterically. She was waiting for me to go crazy and break down. I silently buttoned my shirt. I could have tried to explain, but my identity would be revealed sooner or later. Why not play along with them? I wanted to teach them a lesson: the higher you climb, the harder you fall. So, I stayed silent and waited. But my silence only angered Elena. She scowled, her eyes glinting with madness. She smiled at the camera. “Guys, to rid society of this trash, we need to teach her a real lesson. Let’s play a little game. Let’s call it ‘The Human Puppet’!” “Whatever you guys comment in the chat, I will do to her in real life!” The live stream erupted in cheers. A terrible feeling of dread washed over me. In the next second, Elena burst into the office and ripped my earring straight out of my earlobe. Blood dripped down my neck. The sharp pain made me break into a cold sweat. “First command completed! Keep them coming, guys! The best idea gets a ten-thousand-dollar cash prize!” The atmosphere in the office turned electric. Realizing things were getting dangerous, I found an opening, pushed past her, and ran out of the office toward the elevator. But the moment I got out, my coworkers formed a human wall, blocking me. “Where do you think you’re going?! You stole Elena’s job! You brought this on yourself, and we’re not letting you go. Justice will be served today!” My nails dug into my palms. I felt a mixture of rage and absolute disbelief. Elena walked over slowly. “Why the rush? The game has just begun. The second command is… burning her face with a cigarette.” “Such pretty skin. It’s almost a pity. But I already made a promise to my viewers, and I can’t break it. You’ll just have to bear with it, sweetie.” With a sick smile, Elena picked up a lit cigarette from an ashtray and thrust it toward my cheek. I tried to dodge, but Howard held my head tightly from behind. The burning cherry of the cigarette sank into my cheek. The pain was excruciating, like my bones were being crushed. I couldn’t help but scream, tears streaming down my face. “Elena, I will fucking kill you!” I leaned forward and bit her hand hard. Elena shrieked and jumped back. “Let go, you bitch! That hurts! You dare to fight back? I guess we’re being too easy on you!” She looked at me like I was a piece of meat on a chopping block. After her anger passed, she sneered again. “Oh, don’t be so mad. The game isn’t over yet!” Elena scrolled through her phone. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Strip her naked and make her run. Hahaha! Who came up with that? You just won ten thousand dollars!” I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs. These people were absolute monsters! Elena ordered the coworkers to strip me. I fought with everything I had, but three male coworkers pinned me to the ground, leaving me with zero room to resist. Soon, I was stripped down to my bra and underwear, shivering in the cold office air. Howard’s disgusting, rough hands began to touch my skin. Elena pointed the camera directly at my exposed body. The crowd cheered. The viewers in the live stream were still spamming commands, complaining they didn’t win the cash prize. What kind of world was this? Just because of a stupid job, what did I do to deserve this? I closed my eyes in despair, ready to give up. A single tear rolled down my temple. Just then, a booming, angry voice echoed through the hallway. “What the hell are you all doing during work hours?! Do you all want to be fired?!” I opened my eyes and looked toward the entrance. My heart skipped a beat. It was Julian Grant!

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