On our third wedding anniversary, Liam cooked steak for me himself. Under the flickering candlelight, his phone suddenly lit up. The name “Aurora” flashed on the screen. He froze mid-cut, set his fork and knife down, and elegantly wiped his hands with a napkin. “I’m sorry, Jennifer.” He looked at me, his eyes as gentle as a warm spring breeze. “Aurora ran into some trouble over there. I need to go help her.” I sat on the opposite side of the long table, my face unable to form any expression to make him stay. He walked over, gently ruffled my hair out of habit, and spoke in a pampering tone, as if soothing a child. “Be good, don’t be mad. I’ll bring you your favorite chestnut cake tomorrow, okay?” He forgot that I am severely allergic to chestnuts. One bite, and I would go into anaphylactic shock. “Jennifer, since when did you learn to play such childish games?” Liam stood in the foyer, holding the thin piece of paper. He had just put on his custom leather shoes, his dark gray suit jacket draped over his arm. The overhead light in the entryway hit his face, highlighting his sharp brow bone and straight nose. His tone wasn’t harsh. In fact, he had a trace of a helpless smile on his face. Like he was looking at a throwing-a-tantrum child. I stood three steps away from him, my hands hanging loosely at my sides. “It’s not a game.” I looked into his eyes, my voice flat, without a single ripple of emotion. “I’ve already signed it.” Liam looked down at the paper. The bolded words DIVORCE AGREEMENT stared back at him, incredibly sharp against the white paper. He flicked the edge of the paper with his long fingers, making a sharp snap. “All of this just because of Aurora’s call?” He sighed, took a step forward, and reached out to touch my cheek. I tilted my head slightly, dodging his touch. His hand froze in mid-air, then he naturally pulled it back and slipped it into his trouser pocket. “Jennifer, we’ve been married for three years. You’ve always been a smart, sensible girl.” Liam’s voice was deep, carrying his usual calm composure. “Aurora just moved back to the country. She doesn’t know anyone here.” “Her car broke down, and she was scared to death being alone on the highway.” “You usually cry over a stray cat, yet now you’re throwing a fit over a friend in need?” He stared at my face. I suffer from facial neuropathy. My facial nerves are damaged. Whether I am happy or dying of heartbreak, my face remains a stiff, expressionless mask. Liam once said he loved my cold, low-maintenance look. He liked that I didn’t overreact like other women, and that I never cried or threw tantrums over minor things. “I’m not throwing a fit,” I stated calmly. “I just want a divorce.” Liam’s brows finally knitted together. He casually threw the agreement onto the shoe cabinet nearby. “Jennifer, there is a limit to throwing tantrums.” His tone grew colder. “I had a lot of work at the office today, but I still made time to celebrate our anniversary.” “Now Aurora has an emergency. I’m going to handle it, and I’ll be back in two hours at most.” “You pulling out this paper—are you trying to make me feel guilty, or are you trying to prove how important you are to me?” He looked down at me, his eyes filled with absolute certainty. He was certain I could never leave him. He was certain that beneath my expressionless face lay a deep, pathetic obsession with him. “Liam,” I called his name. My vocal cords felt dry because I hadn’t spoken much in a while. “I made the division of assets very clear. I’m walking away with nothing.” “This house, and the car you bought me before—I’m leaving them all to you.” “If you don’t have any objections, sign the bottom right corner. See you at City Hall tomorrow morning at nine.” Liam stared at me for ten long seconds. He seemed to be searching for a crack in my face, a trace of faked grievance, or a hint of playing hard to get. But he found nothing. I was like a pool of stagnant water. Not a single ripple. Suddenly, he let out a laugh. It was a mix of mockery and indulgence. “Fine, Jennifer. Since you want to play this game so badly, I’ll play along.” He pulled his Montblanc pen from his inner suit pocket. He unscrewed the cap in one smooth motion. He signed his name on the bottom right corner of the agreement in a wild, cursive flourish. The pen tip scratched loudly against the paper. “I’ve signed it.” He capped the pen and pushed the paper toward me. “I’ll have John drive you to City Hall tomorrow at nine.” “I hope you sleep well tonight. Just don’t cry and beg me to tear this paper up tomorrow morning.” He adjusted his tie. That tie was bought with half of my monthly salary last month. The dark red stripes matched his suit perfectly today. “I’m leaving. Eat dinner by yourself.” He pulled the door open. The night wind rushed in, blowing the hem of my dress. “Remember to take your meds,” he left his final words without turning around. The door clicked shut, and the foyer fell back into a dead silence. I walked over and picked up the signed agreement. Liam’s handwriting was beautiful and sharp. I stared at the name for a moment, then folded the paper neatly and put it into my canvas tote bag.

The candles in the dining room were still flickering, but the steak on the table had gone completely cold. I walked back, pulled out my chair, and sat down. Picking up my fork and knife, I cut a piece of the rare beef and put it in my mouth. Cold beef was hard to chew and tasted slightly metallic. I didn’t spit it out. I chewed it slowly, bit by bit, and swallowed it. After finishing the last bite, I poured myself a glass of red wine and drank it in one gulp. My stomach cramped slightly. I stood up and began cleaning the table. I put the plates and silverware into the dishwasher and pressed start. The machine hummed softly. I walked into the bedroom and pulled a black suitcase out from under the bed. I had brought this suitcase with me when I moved in three years ago. For three years, it had sat quietly in the corner, gathering a thin layer of dust. I grabbed a damp cloth and wiped the dust off. Unzipping it, the faint scent of old mothballs drifted out. I opened the closet. It was huge, taking up an entire wall. It was stuffed with high-end seasonal designer clothes, mostly in white. White silk dresses, white cashmere coats, white lace shirts. Liam always said I had fair skin and looked best in white. But that wasn’t the truth. On Aurora’s Instagram, she was always wearing white dresses, smiling like an innocent angel. I didn’t touch any of those expensive clothes. Instead, I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a few old clothes from my college days. A faded gray hoodie. Two pairs of jeans with worn-out knees, and a few plain cotton t-shirts. I folded them neatly and placed them in the suitcase. While packing my toiletries, I looked at the matching electric toothbrushes on the vanity. Liam’s was navy blue; mine was light pink. I pulled the pink brush head off and threw it into the trash can. Then, I grabbed a cheap, unopened manual toothbrush from the cabinet and slipped it into my travel bag. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a Snapchat message from Liam. `[Wire Transfer: $100,000]` Right after, a voice message popped up. I tapped it, and Liam’s deep voice echoed in the empty bedroom. “Jennifer, I’ve handled things for Aurora. She was pretty shaken up, so I’m dropping her off at her hotel.” “That bakery was closed, so I’ll have my assistant get you cake from another place tomorrow.” “I sent you some pocket money. Go buy a bag you like. Don’t be mad anymore.” His tone was still so gentle, so entitled. As if our conversation about divorce in the foyer had just been a harmless joke. As if he truly believed that a hundred thousand dollars could buy off a wife’s pain of being abandoned on her anniversary. I stared at the screen, my finger hovering in the air for two seconds. Then, I tapped “Decline.” The screen popped up a notification: `[$100,000 has been returned to sender.]` I didn’t reply to his voice message and locked the screen. The screen went black, reflecting my expressionless face. I went back to packing. On the desk was a picture frame containing the only photo from our wedding. In the photo, Liam wore a black tuxedo with a polite smile. I wore a white wedding gown, staring blankly at the camera. The photographer had kept begging me to smile, but I couldn’t. Liam had told him, “It’s fine, she’s just like this. Just take it.” I picked up the frame and took the photo out. On the back, there was a line written in pencil in my handwriting: Liam, today I became your wife. I found a pair of scissors and slowly cut down the middle, right between the two of us. With a sharp snip, the photo was split in half. I threw the half with Liam into the trash can. The half with me, I slipped inside an old book.

The next morning at 8:30 AM. Carrying my canvas bag, I walked out of the apartment building right on time. A black Maybach was parked by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Liam’s handsome face. He had changed into a dark blue suit today. His hair was perfectly styled, and he looked sharp. “Get in,” he said calmly. I opened the passenger door and sat inside. A faint scent of perfume drifted through the car. It was the sweet, sickly jasmine scent Aurora always wore. I didn’t say a word. I silently pulled the seatbelt over and buckled up. Liam started the engine. “Did you eat breakfast?” he asked casually, his long fingers resting on the steering wheel. “Yes,” I replied, watching the city streets slip past the window. “Did Martha make you a sandwich?” “No, I made pasta.” Liam let out a soft laugh. “With your cooking skills, is that pasta even edible?” There was a trace of familiarity in his tone that he didn’t even notice. As if we were just a regular couple heading to work, not heading to City Hall to file for divorce. The car moved slowly through the morning rush hour traffic. “Jennifer,” Liam suddenly spoke, his voice losing its casual tone. “I thought about it last night.” “Aurora just got back, and she needs my help with a lot of things. I might be busy for a while.” “If you’re bored at home by yourself, sign up for a flower arrangement class, or go have brunch with your friends.” “Let me know if you need more money.” He turned to glance at me. “I’ll pretend I never saw that agreement from yesterday. I’ll have John take you back at the next intersection.” He still thought I was just acting out. He thought I was using the extreme threat of divorce just to get his attention. “Liam,” I turned my head to meet his gaze. “I brought the agreement, and all my documents are in my bag.” “Take a left at the next intersection. That’s City Hall.” Liam’s face finally darkened. He slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt at a red light, the tires protesting against the asphalt. He turned his body fully toward me, glaring at me. “Are you serious?” his voice was dangerously low. “Yes,” I replied without flinching. The air in the car seemed to freeze. The scent of jasmine became incredibly suffocating. The light turned green, and the cars behind us started honking. Liam snapped his gaze back to the road and slammed on the gas. The Maybach shot forward like an arrow. At exactly 9:00 AM, we walked into the City Hall clerk’s office. It wasn’t crowded today. We sat down in front of the counter. The clerk looked at our agreement, then at Liam, and finally at me. “Are you sure about the division of assets? The wife is leaving with absolutely nothing?” the clerk double-checked. “Yes,” I replied flatly. Liam sat beside me, his face grim. His hands rested on his knees, the veins on the back of his hands bulging slightly. “Sir, do you confirm?” the clerk asked him. Liam turned to look at me. A storm of complex emotions flashed through his eyes—anger, confusion, and a hint of panic he refused to admit. But in the end, he sneered, “I confirm.” “Alright. This is your 30-day cooling-off notice,” the clerk handed us two copies. “In thirty days, if neither of you files a motion to dismiss, come back with this notice to collect your final divorce decree.” I took the paper, folded it carefully, and put it in my bag. Liam didn’t even look at his copy. He stood up immediately and walked out. I followed him out of the building. The sunlight was a bit blinding. “Jennifer,” Liam stopped on the steps, turning to look down at me. “Thirty days. I’m giving you thirty days to calm down.” “If you still want to play this game in thirty days, I’ll give you what you want.” He looked down at me, as if granting me his ultimate mercy. I didn’t say anything. I looked down at an ant on the steps, struggling to drag a breadcrumb three times its size.

Three days after visiting City Hall. I began packing the last of my personal belongings. The living room was quiet, save for the harsh sound of packing tape being ripped. The door lock clicked, and Liam walked in. Following right behind him was Aurora, wearing a white summer dress. She looked fragile and pale, like a delicate greenhouse flower that needed constant protection. “Liam, is it okay for me to drop by like this? Will I bother Jennifer?” Aurora’s voice was soft, laced with a timid, testing tone. “No,” Liam said flatly as he changed his shoes. “She’s usually just idling around the house anyway.” He looked up and saw the two cardboard boxes sitting in the living room. His brows twitched slightly. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Packing,” I said, holding a roll of tape, looking at him calmly. Liam let out a cold laugh. “Jennifer, cut the act. It’s getting old.” He turned to Aurora. “Aurora, go sit on the couch. I’m going to the study to grab those stock transfer papers.” Aurora nodded obediently. She walked over to the couch and sat down, her eyes scanning the room. Finally, her gaze landed on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. A few of my old books were stacked there. Peeking out from between them was a dark red leather cover. It was my diary. It held three years of thoughts I could never say out loud. Aurora stood up and walked over slowly. “Jennifer, do you read these kinds of books too?” She smiled at me, her hand already reaching for the diary. I dropped the tape and stepped in front of her. “Don’t touch it.” My voice was flat, but my eyes grew cold. Aurora’s hand froze in mid-air. As if she had been deeply insulted, her eyes instantly welled up with tears. “I’m sorry, Jennifer… I was just curious…” The study door opened, and Liam walked out with a folder in his hand. Seeing the scene, his face immediately darkened. “Jennifer, what are you doing?” He walked over quickly, pulling Aurora behind him. “Aurora was just looking at a book. Do you really have to be so hostile?” He looked at me with clear blame in his eyes. “That’s not a book,” I said, my voice as calm as still water. “It’s my personal property.” “What personal property could possibly be that precious?” Liam sneered. His gaze swept across the shelf and landed on a small pot of mint. I had grown that mint for three years. From a tiny seed, I had nurtured it until it became lush and green. Liam reached out and picked up the pot. “Aurora hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Mint helps with sleep.” He turned to look at me. “I’m taking this pot. Consider it an apology for your rudeness to Aurora just now.” He didn’t even ask what that mint meant to me. He took what was mine as a matter of course to please another woman. I looked at the vibrant green mint. A drop of water from my morning watering was still clinging to a leaf. “Okay,” I said. Liam didn’t seem to expect me to agree so easily. He froze for a second, then a look of satisfaction flashed in his eyes. “At least you’re being sensible.” Holding the mint in one hand, he wrapped his other arm around Aurora’s shoulder and walked toward the door. At the entryway, he stopped and looked back at me. A patronizing smile curled on his lips. “I have a business dinner tonight. When I get back, I’ll take you to that sushi place you like.” I watched them walk out side by side. I watched the door slowly close. I walked to the bookshelf, pulled out the diary that was sticking out, and shoved it deep into the darkest corner of the shelf—a dead angle that no one would ever notice. Along with my pathetic self from the last three years, and Liam, I buried it all.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “444248”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Three years ago, my husband, Julian Rodriguez, allegedly died in a car crash to save me. My own mother, Betty, immediately sued me on behalf of his family. Wishing for death, I didn’t even hire a lawyer. I signed the plea deal and walked straight into prison. For three long years, I tried to end my life more times than I could count in that cold cell. But today, the day of my release, I stood on the street and saw a giant billboard broadcasting Julian’s “wedding of the century” to my younger sister, Hailey. My life was completely ruined, and as I would soon find out, my daughter had been diagnosed with an incurable illness. I rushed to the wedding venue, only to be dragged out like a crazy person. My mother, Betty, hurried out behind me, glaring at me. She warned me not to ruin Hailey’s big day. “To be honest with you, Sophia, Julian didn’t die.” “We faked the car crash. Hailey was already pregnant with his baby back then.” “We had no choice. We couldn’t let Hailey be labeled a homewrecker and have people gossip about her.” “Now that you’re out, just forget the past and move on.” “Move on?” I stared at Betty. I couldn’t reconcile this cold woman with the mother who had held me three years ago, sobbing and claiming she wished she could go to prison in my place. “My life is ruined. Everything I had is gone. And you’re telling me to just forget it?” I pulled up my sleeves, revealing the countless ugly scars on my wrists from my suicide attempts in prison. I wanted to scream, to ask them why they did this to me. But Betty just slapped me across the face. “Have you not thrown enough tantrums? Did three years in prison not beat that stubbornness out of you?” “Why can’t you just let Hailey have this?” “You’re already miserable. Do you have to ruin Hailey’s happiness too?”

I had nothing to say to Betty. My chest throbbed with a suffocating, piercing pain. I wiped my tears and struggled to get past her. The wedding was magnificent—far grander than the one Julian had given me. The guests were dressed in glamorous gowns and tuxedos. Hailey’s wedding dress shimmered brilliantly under the spotlight. Standing right beside them was a little boy, about three years old. Guided by the officiant, he was carrying the wedding rings. “And now, would the groom and bride please exchange rings, the symbol of their eternal love.” Thunderous applause erupted in the hall. “Stop!” I screamed. The entire room went dead silent. All eyes turned to me. Before I could take another step, security guards rushed in and dragged me away. Betty smiled warmly, turning to the crowd. “I am so sorry, everyone. This is just a homeless woman from the street.” “The security team made a mistake and let her slip in. I’ll have her removed immediately.” Disgusted whispers broke out. “Ugh, a homeless person? No wonder it smells so bad in here.” “Today is Julian and Hailey’s wedding of the century. Some people really have no shame, trying to crash an event like this.” “Exactly. I bet she just wanted free food.” With sneers and mocking glares raining down on me, I was carried out. Julian’s eyes brushed over me for a fraction of a second before he looked away, completely indifferent. Inside, they slid the rings of eternal love onto each other’s fingers. Outside, I was thrown onto the cold, hard pavement. My mother’s emerald-green heels appeared in my field of vision. She frowned deeply. “Sophia, how many times do I have to tell you? Today is Hailey’s wedding. Did you really have to come here to ruin it?” “What about you guys? You lied to me for three years! You let me rot in prison for a lie! Doesn’t your conscience hurt?!” I screamed, my voice raw. Betty’s frown tightened. “We had no choice, Sophia. Why can’t you understand that?” “Go home right now. If you don’t, you will never see Lily again.” Lily… Lily was the baby girl I gave birth to three years ago, right before I went to prison. My parents had promised they would take good care of her. “Where is Lily? What did you do to her?” At my question, a flicker of guilt crossed my mother’s face. She looked away, refusing to answer. Panic seized my chest. I didn’t care about anything else anymore. I scrambled up and ran toward our family home. The passcode to the front door hadn’t changed. I pushed it open. A maid was cleaning the living room. When she saw me, she gasped in horror. “Miss Sophia? How… why are you here? Weren’t you…” “Where is Lily?!” I rushed forward and grabbed her shoulders. Terrified, the maid stammered, but her eyes kept darting toward the basement door. I sprinted down and kicked the door open. In the darkest corner of the damp basement, a tiny figure was curled into a ball. Hearing the door slam, her little body shook violently. “Don’t hit me! I’ll be good, Aunt Hailey! Please don’t hit me!” “Lily, it’s me… it’s Mommy.” Tears flooded my eyes. I rushed over and pulled her into my arms. She was so thin, her bones sticking out painfully. I wasn’t here for three years. How on earth did they treat my baby girl?! “M-Mommy?” The little girl peeked out from under her arms, her eyes wide and timid. Once she realized it was really me, she threw herself into my chest, sobbing. “Mommy, you’re back! I have a mommy now!”

“Who told you to open this door? Today is Mr. Rodriguez and Miss Miller’s wedding!” “What if Lily runs out and ruins Miss Hailey’s mood?!” Before I could even hold my daughter tighter, a sharp, angry voice echoed from the stairs. “Mrs. Brown, I didn’t open it. It was…” “Then who did?!” Lily instinctively shrank back into my arms, trembling. I held her close and walked out of the basement, coming face-to-face with the nanny. She gasped, stepping back. “Sophia? What are you doing here?” “Julian and I aren’t divorced yet. By law, you should still call me Mrs. Rodriguez.” “And who gave you permission to lock my daughter in a dark basement?!” The nanny stammered, “It… it wasn’t me! It was Miss Hailey’s orders!” I looked down at Lily. Her skeletal little hand was gripping my shirt tightly. She was wearing filthy, ragged clothes that looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I’m taking Lily to get a bath. Where is her room?” I carried Lily and tried to walk upstairs. But the nanny blocked my way. “Mrs. Rodriguez, there is no room for Lily here.” “No room for Lily?” “Yes. Miss Hailey said Lily is disobedient, so she has to live in the basement.” “What?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Lily had been living in that dark, cold basement for years. Looking at her tiny, frail body, I gently pulled up her shirt. My heart shattered. Her skin was covered in bruises, old scars, and fresh welts. “Does it hurt, sweetie?” The moment my fingers lightly touched her skin, Lily winced and tears rolled down her cheeks. My own tears fell freely. Before I could say anything, the front door opened. Julian and Hailey were back. Seeing me, they both froze. “Sophia? You’re out of prison?” Hailey put on a fake, sweet smile and tried to step forward. I pushed her away and stared straight at Julian. “Didn’t you die in that car crash?” “Why are you standing here, perfectly fine? Don’t you owe me an explanation?” “Julian.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I couldn’t stop shaking. At the sight of Hailey, Lily hid behind my back, trembling in terror. “Sophia, let me explain. I had no choice back then…” “No choice?” I looked at the little boy standing next to him, and then at Hailey. What a beautiful excuse. My three years in prison, and my daughter’s three years of torture, just so their little family of three could live happily ever after. “Ew, you smell like trash! Get out of my house!” “You’re not allowed here! And take this little beggar girl with you!” Suddenly, Hailey’s son, Henry, rushed forward and shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I fell to the floor. “Mommy!” Lily cried, trying to help me up. “Henry, stop that!” Hailey scolded the boy half-heartedly, but she didn’t actually do anything to stop him. The boy whined, “These two beggars are making our floor dirty! Kick them out, Mommy!” He threw himself onto the floor, throwing a tantrum. Julian looked at me with an uncomfortable expression. “Sophia, why don’t you take Lily and leave for now? I’ll explain everything to you later.” “Daddy…” Lily timidly reached out her tiny hand, trying to grab the edge of his pants. The next second, Henry rushed over and shoved her away. “Go away, you little beggar! Don’t touch my daddy!” Lily fell backward, her head striking the sharp corner of the cabinet. Blood instantly began to pour from her forehead. “It hurts… Daddy, my head hurts…” Lily cried, reaching out to Julian again, but he coldly stepped back, letting her hand fall. “Mrs. Brown, kick them out.” Six years of marriage, and my daughter and I meant absolutely nothing to him. How pathetic. “This way, please,” Mrs. Brown said, rolling her eyes. I picked up Lily and walked out of the house, step by step. Behind me, their disgusted voices followed. “What a parasite. She smells so bad.” “Exactly. She spent three years in prison. Did she really think Mr. Rodriguez would still want her?”

I took Lily straight to the hospital to get her head bandaged. As we were about to leave, the doctor stopped me. He said Lily looked extremely pale and weak, and recommended a full check-up. Biting my lip, I spent almost all the money I had left on the tests. The results came back quickly. “It’s leukemia.” “What?” The burger I had just bought for Lily slipped from my hand and hit the floor. I couldn’t believe it. The doctor told me to stay strong. With aggressive treatment, she might have six months to a year. My tears flowed uncontrollably. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Looking into Lily’s innocent eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. Her tiny face was completely pale. Because of the constant abuse, her body was covered in layers of scars. Every time I looked at her, my heart broke. “Don’t cry, Mommy. I don’t hurt.” Lily held my hand, trying to comfort me. “Okay, Mommy won’t cry.” I took a deep breath, stuffing a piece of food into my mouth to choke back my sobs. Leaving the hospital, I took Lily back to Julian’s house. “Sophia, I can explain what happened back then.” “Hailey was pregnant with my child, and I had no other choice, so…” “Julian, Lily has leukemia.” I threw the diagnosis sheet onto the table. He frowned immediately. “Sophia, I know I wronged you in the past.” “But you don’t have to make up a terminal illness just to get back at me.” “I’m not…” “Hailey takes her and Henry for a check-up every three months. How could she suddenly be sick?” Every three months? I let out a bitter laugh. I pulled Lily forward. “Look at her! She’s skin and bones! Do you honestly think this is what a healthy child looks like?” “I don’t care about the past anymore. I need money to treat Lily. You…” Before I could finish, his face darkened. “So all of this—using our daughter’s health as an excuse—was just to beg for money?” “Sophia, we haven’t seen each other in three years. How did you become so shameless?” Anger and frustration suffocated me. I couldn’t believe he actually thought of me this way. Before I could speak, Hailey chimed in. “Sophia, I know you hate me, but you shouldn’t use a child’s health to play mind games.” “All these years, I’ve treated Lily like my own daughter.” “I’ve even been nicer to her than to Henry. If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.” Hailey pulled Lily over. “Lily, tell the truth. Your mommy is lying, right? Haven’t I been good to you all these years?” Lily looked at me, then at Hailey’s threatening eyes, and finally nodded. “Yes…” “Sophia, you’re using our child to extort money. What else do you have to say?” “I…” I stared at Lily, completely shocked. Suddenly, a shrill scream echoed from the doorway. “You just got out of prison, and you’re already here extorting Hailey and Julian?! I’ll teach you a lesson!” Betty rushed in and slapped me hard across the face. The force of the blow knocked me to the floor. Betty grabbed my ear and dragged me toward the door. “Get back home and reflect on what you’ve done!” I looked back at Lily. She was shrinking behind Hailey, too terrified to speak. She didn’t move an inch until I was thrown into the car. Betty pinched my ear hard. “How many times do I have to tell you? Leave Hailey and Julian alone!” “Your marriage ended the moment you went to prison three years ago! Can’t you get that through your thick skull?!” I tried to tell Betty that Lily was abused and had leukemia. But Betty wouldn’t listen to a single word. “Sophia, you’re just jealous of Hailey.” “She has always been smarter and prettier than you. She did better in school, and now she’s married to Julian.” “Are you trying to ruin her life on purpose?” “Let me warn you, you better behave. Don’t forget, Julian still has legal custody of Lily.” Tears blurred my vision. Memories of my childhood flashed before my eyes. Hailey and I were only a year apart. Ever since we were kids, Betty always told me I had to let Hailey have whatever she wanted. I didn’t understand it back then. Until the first grade, when I got a perfect score on an exam, leaving Hailey far behind. Hailey cried, and Betty slapped me for the first time. She said, “Sophia, you have to let Hailey win. Let her have first place.” After that, I never dared to do too well on exams. Even when a boy I liked didn’t like Hailey, Hailey would go home and cry, and I would get punished. Eventually, I lost not just the right to excel, but even the right to dress up nicely. And in Betty’s eyes, all of this meant I had always been inferior to Hailey.

For the next few days, Betty kept me under house arrest. Finally, she and Hailey went out shopping, giving me a chance to slip away and find Lily. When I snuck into the house, I saw my tiny daughter kneeling on the floor, scrubbing it with a rag. I rushed over and pulled her up. “What are you doing?!” “Hailey said I made the floor dirty. She said if I don’t clean it, I can’t leave.” “Mommy, you should go.” Unlike her excitement from a few days ago, Lily was cold and pushed me away. I froze, then pulled her small body into a tight hug. “Did Hailey threaten you? Don’t be scared, baby. Tell Mommy, I’ll protect you.” Finally, Lily broke down in my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. She cried and told me that whenever Julian wasn’t home, Hailey and Henry would abuse her together. Even the maids called her the daughter of a criminal bitch. She had to beg and please Hailey just to get scraps of food and be allowed to sleep in a real bed. Otherwise, Hailey would lock her in the dark basement. She was so young, yet so helpless and broken. My heart bled for her. I wanted to take Lily right then, but the maids blocked the door. Helpless, I had to leave alone first. The moment I got out, I uploaded the evidence of Julian and Hailey’s child abuse to YouTube. In less than a day, the video went viral. They were dragged to the top of the trending charts. Hashtags like #Child Abuse#, #Unfit Parents#, and #Monsters# became overnight sensations. Although the posts were quickly taken down by Julian’s PR team, the damage was done. Reporters swarmed them. Unable to handle the public backlash, they held a live press conference. At the press conference, tiny Lily sat in the middle, flanked by Julian and Hailey. “Please don’t believe the rumors,” Julian said into the microphone. “Sophia fabricated everything to steal custody of our daughter.” “Lily is my own flesh and blood. I would never abuse her.” Hailey wiped a fake tear. “Yes, Lily is my sister Sophia’s daughter, which makes her my daughter too.” “Sophia was sent to prison three years ago. As soon as she got out, she demanded money from us. When we refused, she used Lily to smear our names.” Lily sat between them, silent and trembling. Instantly, the public turned on me. “And here I thought the parents were monsters. Turns out the real demon is the biological mother!” “Some people will say anything for money.” “Mr. Rodriguez and Miss Miller have always had a great reputation.” “But this Sophia woman was just released from prison. She clearly has issues.” “What a piece of trash, exploiting her own kid!” Hailey looked at me through the cameras, throwing me a victorious smirk. She spoke into the microphone with fake pity. “Please don’t blame Sophia. She went through a lot in prison, so it’s natural she has some resentment. I hope everyone can show her some grace.” With that, she grabbed Lily’s hand to leave. I watched Lily walk away, trapped in a crowd of angry reporters, unable to reach her. Just as I was about to sink into despair, Lily suddenly snatched her hand away from Hailey and ran back toward the microphones. “My mommy didn’t lie! Hailey is the liar!” she screamed, pointing at Hailey. The entire room gasped.

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Three of us were having dinner. Hudson took the menu and looked at Fiona first. “Your stomach has been sensitive lately. Should we order something light?” Fiona pouted, whining that she wanted something spicy. He chuckled. “Fine, but only mild spicy.” I sat across from them, remaining silent. I had been battling a severe stomach ulcer for three months. Last week, I sent him my follow-up report. He only replied with a single word: [Okay.] The waitress turned to me. “And for you, sweetie?” “Anything is fine,” I said. Soon, the table was filled with spicy dishes. Hudson picked up his fork and knife, carefully flaking off a piece of grilled fish, and placed it into Fiona’s plate. “Careful, it’s hot.” I held my glass of lukewarm water, staring at his profile. Three years ago, he used to treat me with the exact same tenderness. I used to think those sweet habits belonged to me. I didn’t know habits could pack up and move to someone else. He looked up and glanced at me. “Why aren’t you eating?” “Not hungry.” He frowned. “Your attitude has been getting weirder and weirder lately.” I didn’t reply. It wasn’t a weird attitude. It was just that I had stopped telling him what I wanted to eat a long time ago. Speaking up was pointless anyway, so I eventually chose silence.

“Ouch! That hurts!” Fiona suddenly covered her mouth, her brows furrowed in pain. Hudson stood up so fast his chair screeched back half a foot. “How could you be so careless?” “The bones in this fish are too tiny. I didn’t see them,” Fiona said, her eyes welling up with tears. “Open your mouth. Let me see where it’s stuck.” Hudson leaned over the table. “It’s on your tongue. Not too deep. I can get it out for you.” They were so close. Hudson turned on his phone flashlight to inspect her mouth. Sitting across from them, the pungent smell of chili from the dishes invaded my nose. My stomach acid churned violently. I pressed my hand firmly against my abdomen. No one spared me a single glance. I unlocked my phone. Our chat from last week was still sitting there quietly. [The test results are out. The doctor said it doesn’t look good. Please take a look when you have a minute.] [Okay.] Below that, there was nothing else. “Better now? The bone is out,” Hudson said, sitting back down. “Want to swallow some bread? Or drink some lemon juice? I’ll be more careful cleaning the fish for you next time.” “I don’t want any more fish. I’m scared,” Fiona complained softly. “Then eat something else. This fried chicken has no bones.” He picked up his fork and put a chicken drumstick into her plate. “Thank you, Hudson. You’re the best.” Fiona smiled sweetly. She then turned to me, a hint of triumph in her eyes. “Angie, are you really not going to eat anything?” “Not hungry.” I took a small sip of my warm water. “Is the food here not to your liking?” “If I had known, I would have insisted we go to that Mexican place you like.” “It’s fine.” Hudson suddenly slammed his fork down, his face darkening. “Angie, who are you pulling that face for?” I looked up at him. “I’m not pulling a face.” “Fiona is just trying to be nice. What’s with the attitude?” “My stomach hurts.” “If it hurts, go buy some meds. Don’t ruin the mood for everyone else here.” I looked at him, finding it almost funny. Three years. He completely forgot that I got this chronic stomach ulcer from staying up late with him for months to help him finish his startup project. “I need to use the restroom,” I said, standing up. “Make it quick. I’m ready to pay the bill,” Hudson said without looking up. I walked into the restroom, gripped the sink, and dry-heaved twice. Nothing came up but burning stomach acid. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my pale reflection in the mirror. My phone buzzed. It was a message from my doctor. [Miss Angie, your new biopsy report is ready. I strongly suggest you come to the clinic as soon as possible.] I dried my hands and walked back to the dining area. Hudson had already paid. He was gently draping a camel coat over Fiona’s shoulders. “It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold.” Fiona snuggled into the coat. “Hudson’s coat is so warm.” Hudson turned and saw me, his brow furrowing slightly. “Let’s go. What are you standing there for?” Outside the restaurant, the freezing winter wind hit my face. I shivered. While Hudson went to the parking lot to get the car, Fiona stood next to me. “Angie, don’t be mad at Hudson.” “He just has a short temper, but he’s a really good guy.” “Before my dad passed away, he made Hudson promise to look after me. Hudson keeps his word. He’s a man of honor.” “Moving from my hometown to LA three years ago hasn’t been easy. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.” She stared at the direction Hudson went. “I’m not mad,” I replied. “Good. I was worried you’d misunderstand our relationship.” “I won’t.” The car pulled up. Hudson rolled down the window. “Get in.” Fiona opened the passenger door and slid inside naturally. I opened the back door and sat in the shadows of the backseat. The car was playing the soft indie music Fiona liked. “I’ll drop Fiona off first,” Hudson said as he started the engine. “Thanks, Hudson. Sorry to trouble you.” “No trouble. It’s on the way.” It wasn’t on the way. Fiona lived on the east side of the city. I lived on the west. But I said nothing. When we arrived at Fiona’s apartment building, Hudson parked the car. “I’ll walk you up.” “No need! I can walk myself.” “It’s late. It’s not safe.” They both got out of the car. I sat in the dark vehicle, watching them walk side-by-side into the building entrance. It took ten minutes for Hudson to return. “Why didn’t you turn up the heater?” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m not cold.” He didn’t push further and started driving. “Tomorrow is the weekend. Any plans?” he asked casually. “No.” “Perfect. Come help me move Fiona’s stuff tomorrow.” “She’s a girl, she has too many boxes to carry by herself.” I stared out the window. “Okay.” I gripped my phone, opened my chat with Hudson, and typed: [The doctor wants me to go to the hospital. My biopsy results are out.] My thumb hovered over the send button for a long time. After a moment, I deleted the message, letter by letter. Forget it. He would only reply with an “Okay.”

“It’s intestinal metaplasia. It’s a precancerous lesion,” Dr. Evans said, looking at me with a serious expression. “It doesn’t mean it will definitely turn into cancer, but we must treat it seriously.” “No spicy or irritating food. Eat regular meals. Regular check-ups. Surgery might be needed if things worsen.” “What if I leave it untreated?” I asked. “You’re still young, Angie. Don’t gamble with your life.” Dr. Evans handed me the report. I took it. Stepping out of the clinic, the afternoon sun felt blindingly hot. I dialed Hudson’s number. It rang eight times before he finally picked up. “What’s up?” Hudson’s voice sounded clearly annoyed. In the background, Fiona was giggling. “Hudson, should we put this cabinet here?” “I went to the hospital today…” I started. “Are you okay? Oh, right.” Hudson cut me off. “I told you yesterday, Fiona needs help moving today. Since you’re free, come over and help her pack.” I fell silent. “Hello? Lost your tongue again?” “Okay.” “Great. Ten tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the address.” The line went dead. I looked at the call duration: twenty-four seconds. He didn’t ask why I went to the hospital. He didn’t even ask if I was okay. The next day, I went to Fiona’s new apartment. Hudson was using a screwdriver to assemble a wardrobe for Fiona. Fiona, wearing an apron, poked her head out of the kitchen. “Angie! You’re here!” “Could you help me wash those new plates and bowls? I just bought them.” I walked over and rolled up my sleeves. The tap water was ice-cold, stinging my skin. “Hudson, you have to cook the very first meal in my new home, okay?” Fiona leaned against the kitchen doorframe. “Sure. What do you want?” Hudson asked without looking up. “Spicy roast chicken!” Hudson put down his screwdriver and turned to look at me. “Angie, be a sweetheart and run to the grocery store to grab some ingredients.” The plate in my hand slipped, clattering against the edge of the sink with a dull thud. Cooking a housewarming dinner for another woman, and sending me to do the grocery run. “Okay,” I said. During our three years together, I had become too accustomed to saying “okay.” As I walked out of the apartment, a dull pain began to bloom in my stomach. On my way back from the grocery store, the pain intensified. I had to squat down by a flowerbed on the street, cold sweat drenching my back. I waited there for ten minutes before I could barely stand up again. An hour later, Hudson served the steaming, aromatic roast chicken. The spicy scent filled the air, triggering a sharp sting in my stomach. He carved a large piece of chicken and placed it in Fiona’s bowl. “Try this. I made sure to put less chili for you.” He remembered to put less spice for Fiona. But at our dinners, he had never once remembered my condition. I stood up and grabbed my purse. “I’m going home. My stomach feels a bit off.” Hudson looked up at me briefly, then went back to serving Fiona. “Drink some warm water when you get back.” “Angie, are you sure you don’t want to stay? It tastes amazing!” Fiona asked with a fake pout. “No, thank you.” That night, the stomach pain was so bad I couldn’t even lie flat. I curled up on the sofa. My phone screen lit up. Hudson had posted on his Instagram. In the photo, he and Fiona were holding wine glasses, smiling brightly. The caption read: [New home, new beginnings. ] The comment section was bustling. [Is she your girlfriend?] [She’s gorgeous!] Hudson didn’t reply to any of them, nor did he deny it. I searched through all my drawers but couldn’t find my stomach meds. I opened my chat with Hudson. [My stomach hurts really badly.] I stared at the screen for ten seconds, then deleted it. The next morning, I received an official email from my company. The headquarters in Finland was looking for an exchange financial analyst for a joint research project. The contract was for three years. In the attachment, the contact person’s name was Albert Davis. I stared at that email for a long time. Three years. Far enough, long enough. My phone vibrated. It was Hudson. “What is wrong with you?” “I told you, I wasn’t feeling well.” “You always complain about that minor stomach issue. Aren’t you tired of it?” “Fiona thought she made you feel unwelcome. She felt guilty all night.” “She felt guilty? For what?” “Why are you always so cold-blooded, Angie?” “Me? Cold-blooded?” I asked back. “Whatever. I don’t have time to argue with you,” Hudson said, his voice dripping with frustration. “I won’t be coming home tonight. Fiona still has some things that need setting up.” “Up to you.” I hung up. A voice message from Albert popped up on my WhatsApp. “Angie, have you thought about the offer?” I opened the email reply box and typed: [I accept the offer.]

“Let’s go watch a movie this weekend,” Hudson said as he changed his shoes at the door. “I don’t feel like it.” I didn’t look up from my laptop, continuing to organize my transition files. “Fiona gave me two tickets. She said it’s a great movie.” “You two go.” “She has her own ticket. The three of us are going together.” Hudson walked over and closed my laptop shut. “Stop locking yourself in the house all day. No wonder you have such a bad attitude lately.” I stared at him. “Okay.” It wasn’t until we reached the theater that I realized it was a horror movie. Fiona held a tub of popcorn, looking completely innocent. “Angie, aren’t you scared? I have the worst courage.” “No.” The lights dimmed. Within the first ten minutes, Fiona let out a sharp shriek. She threw herself toward Hudson, grabbing his arm tightly and burying her face in his shoulder. Hudson didn’t push her away. Instead, he gently patted her back. “It’s okay. It’s just CGI,” his voice was incredibly gentle. I sat on his other side, separated by the armrest where his jacket lay. When the movie ended, Fiona turned to me. “Angie, were you really not scared at all?” “No.” Hudson cut in. “She’s tough. She never needs anyone to worry about her.” Right. Because even if I did, it wouldn’t be his turn to worry. The cold wind outside the theater made my stomach cramp again. “Let’s grab a late-night snack,” Hudson suggested. As we passed a Mexican restaurant, I stopped. I had asked Hudson to take me here three times. Every time, he said “next time.” I didn’t say anything and kept walking. “That one!” Fiona pointed at a seafood bistro ahead. “I’ve been dying to try that place!” Without hesitation, Hudson steered us inside. Once we were seated, the table was loaded with spicy seafood. In front of me sat a glass of warm water. Fiona bit into a spicy crab leg and suddenly spoke up. “Angie, are you on a diet?” “I noticed you barely touched your food during our last few dinners.” Before I could answer, she giggled. “But I guess it’s good. Girls look better in clothes when they’re skinny.” Hudson didn’t object. He actually agreed. “She’s always been like this. Eats like a bird.” It wasn’t because I ate like a bird. It was because I couldn’t eat a single dish you ordered. The strong scent of spices hit my nose, worsening the spasms in my stomach. I clenched my hands on my lap. I suddenly realized something with painful clarity. He hadn’t forgotten that I couldn’t eat spicy food. He simply didn’t care enough to know. When we got home, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. There were traces of blood in the toilet bowl. My phone rang. “Home?” Hudson’s voice came through. “Yes.” “Get some sleep.” The call ended. Call duration: eight seconds. The next day, we had a Zoom meeting. Albert briefly introduced the project on the screen. At the end, he added, “Angie, if you have any concerns about moving to Finland, let me know anytime.” “No concerns at all.” After closing the Zoom call, several voice messages popped up on my WhatsApp. They were from Fiona. “Angie, I want to tell you something, but please don’t get mad at me.” “When Hudson drove me home yesterday, he said you’ve been so cold lately.” “He felt really hurt.” “Maybe you should show him a little more affection?” I looked at the screen and suddenly laughed. He felt hurt. Okay. I opened my work email and clicked [Confirm Transfer]. That evening, Hudson came home. I was packing my documents in the study. “Next weekend, I’m taking you and Fiona to a hot spring resort upstate to relax,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m not going.” “What is it this time?” He frowned. I took the medical reports, doctors’ instructions, and biopsy results from the drawer, stacked them neatly, and placed them on the corner of the desk. “If you have time, read these.” He glanced at them but didn’t pick them up. “Yeah, I’ll look at them later. First, about next weekend…” “I’m tired, Hudson.” I stood up, walked into the bedroom, and locked the door behind me. “Are you throwing another tantrum?!” His angry, muffled voice came from the hallway. I ignored him.

“Table for two, this way please,” the waitress smiled warmly. “Three,” Hudson corrected. The waitress looked behind them, her eyes finally landing on me. She apologized awkwardly. It was Fiona’s birthday dinner, and Hudson had booked a high-end Japanese restaurant. Fiona held Hudson’s arm as they walked in. I walked behind them with my head down, looking like an unwanted shadow. After sitting down, Hudson handed the menu to Fiona. “Order whatever you like.” Fiona pointed at the menu. “The premium sashimi platter, Wagyu sukiyaki, and eel rice.” Hudson finally looked at me. “What do you want?” “A bowl of simple green tea rice.” Hudson frowned. “That’s it?” “Yes.” I didn’t elaborate. Halfway through the dinner, Hudson put down his utensils and pulled a velvet box from his pocket. “Happy birthday, Fiona.” Fiona gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh my god! It’s beautiful!” It was a diamond necklace. I watched the scene quietly. A month ago, it was my birthday. Hudson forgot. I didn’t remind him. He only remembered three days later. He Venmoed me some money with the note [Belated birthday gift]. I didn’t accept the money, and he never asked about it again. Fiona touched the necklace, smiling at me. “Angie, you’re so lucky. Hudson is always so thoughtful. I’m so touched.” I raised my teacup. “Happy birthday.” My phone buzzed. It was an email from Albert. [Your visa has been approved. Departure in three weeks.] I read the email and locked my screen. Looking up, I saw Hudson gently wiping a smudge of sauce from the corner of Fiona’s mouth with a napkin. In this relationship, I was like a piece of luggage forgotten in a corner. The owner walked past it every day, never looking at it, but always assuming it would be there forever. I set down my cup. My voice was calm. “Hudson.” He looked at me. I met his eyes. He used to look at me with the exact same eyes three years ago, filled with warmth. But now, that warmth had moved out. “Let’s break up.” The air froze for two seconds. Fiona’s fork clattered loudly onto her plate. Hudson’s expression shifted from confusion to offended rage. “What did you say?” “Let’s break up,” I repeated. He let out a cold laugh. “Are you seriously picking today of all days to start a fight?” “I’m not fighting.” I stood up and grabbed my coat. “I’m moving to Finland next month. It’s a three-year transfer.” “We are done.” Hudson stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Angie, have you lost your mind? Throwing away three years of our relationship just like that?” “Three years?” I looked back at him, my voice barely a whisper. “In these three years, count how many times you’ve replied to me with just ‘Okay’. Go check our chat history.” I turned toward the door. Hudson’s voice roared behind me. “Angie, stop right there!” “Angie!” Fiona grabbed Hudson’s arm, her eyes red. “Hudson, don’t yell at her. Maybe she’s just emotional right now…” I pushed open the restaurant door, and the winter wind rushed over me. My phone buzzed. A text from Hudson: [Come back. We need to talk.] I didn’t reply. I hailed a cab and gave the driver the hospital’s address. “Going to the ER, kiddo?” the driver asked. “Yeah.” My stomach was screaming in pain again. But my heart felt absolutely nothing.

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With my face pale as death from terminal cancer, I lay in bed and dialed my husband’s number. “Miles, what’s up with those wedding photos of you and Lauren on Instagram?” His voice over the line was nothing but cold impatience. “It’s just for work. Besides, the doctor said you only have three months left. Stop letting your mind wander.” Before I could reply, a sweet, clingy female voice came from his end. “Miles, who is that? Come quick and help me choose our wedding dress for the engagement party!” The call was abruptly disconnected. My grip tightened on my phone. Then, I smiled. I threw off the blanket, sat up, and wiped the pale, sickly foundation off my face. Everyone thought I was desperately in love with Miles. They thought I’d give up my life for him. They were all waiting to watch me die a tragic, desperate death. Only I knew that this so-called terminal diagnosis was a meticulously planned escape. As for our marital assets? Too bad. While Miles was busy fooling around, I had already quietly drained and transferred every single penny. …

I refreshed Instagram. Lauren Scott had deleted all her wedding dress posts, replacing them with a single, highly dramatic caption: “It was just a dinner hosted by the brand to thank us for the endorsement. We were playing truth or dare, and I lost. The brand challenged me to take a photo with any man present. Mr. Whitfield only agreed to help to save me from embarrassment. I apologize for the misunderstanding.” The attached photo was a selfie of her pouting with a victimized expression. Miles was quick to comment: “Ignore them, Lauren. I’ve got your back. No one dares bully you.” A flood of comments instantly appeared below: “We all get it, it was obviously a joke. Those reporters love chasing shadows.” “Some people? Are they talking about Mr. Whitfield’s dying wife? Mr. Whitfield is so miserable, married to a woman like that. She’s dying anyway, that’s just her bad luck. Yet she stays at home making trouble, blaming Mr. Whitfield and Lauren for making her sick.” “The way Mr. Whitfield protects you is so hot!” I stared coldly at the screen, took note of every single account that liked those comments, and put them all on our company’s blacklist. I had founded this entertainment agency solely to secure Miles’s position as a gold-star producer. I had poured all my money and connections into him. Now, he was indeed the crown jewel of our company, with everyone kissing his feet. Even his favorite rising star, Lauren, had ridden his coattails straight to the top. And I, the majority shareholder of the company, had become the annoying, dying wife in their mouths. They probably thought I loved Miles to the bone. They thought the company would go bankrupt without him. They forgot that it was my empire that made him who he was today. Without him, I could build a dozen gold-star producers. Lauren replied to every comment with a blushing emoji. Her reply to Miles was a blowing kiss. The doorbell rang. It was FedEx. The courier handed me the divorce papers signed by Miles, along with a gift box. I asked him what it was. He scratched his head. “A lady asked me to hand this to you. She said you’re a miserable, dying soul, but she’s generous enough not to hold a grudge.” “These are white lilies. She wishes you a peaceful recovery.” I calmly told him to throw Lauren’s mocking funeral flowers straight into the trash and shut the door. I pulled out the divorce papers and signed my name, stroke by stroke. My phone buzzed. It was a WhatsApp message from Carter, the company’s vice president. “Ms. Marlowe, are you sure about this? You can’t just freeze Mr. Whitfield and Lauren’s joint projects.” “I know your health is failing and you’re having a lover’s spat with Mr. Whitfield, but please don’t joke with the company’s future. You’re not just ruining our two pillars, you’re throwing our investors’ money down the drain.” I replied coldly: “You’re right. I forgot to deal with you. You’re fired. I’ll have the board take over your duties immediately.” After hitting send, I immediately called the Board Secretariat, instructing them to take full control of project approvals and finances. “Suspend and audit anyone who pleads for Miles and Lauren. If they don’t like it, tell them to pack their bags.” I looked at the executives who were leaving nice comments on Lauren’s Instagram. I had hired them with top-tier salaries, headhunting them from across the country. I gave them their platform. I sent them to Harvard for executive training. Yet, now, they only recognized Miles. They completely forgot who gave them everything they had. They were loyal dogs trained by Miles, possessing the exact same ungrateful nature. Ungrateful people don’t deserve to be executives. They should sleep on the streets to learn what the real world feels like. As soon as I hung up, I realized Miles had sent me over a dozen messages. In the end, probably driven mad by the silence, he called me from a new number. I picked up. The second the call connected, his furious roar boomed through the speaker. “Are you insane! I’m about to launch a new project, and Lauren is scheduled to shoot! How dare you freeze all our resources!”

“Sienna, I know you’re dying and you’re bitter about it, but that is your fate!” “Your body was born defective. Even God can’t save you! It’s your own destiny to die young, it is not my fault, and it certainly isn’t Lauren’s!” “How many times do I have to tell you? Why do you keep targeting Lauren? I kept you away from the entertainment news because I didn’t want you overthinking! I never expected you to start throwing dirt on her, let alone abuse your power to blacklist her!” His usually arrogant, detached voice was shaking with rage. I simply asked, “Did you really fly to Paris for work? Was that wedding dress photo really just a stunt forced by the brand?” “Or did you rush to Paris just to accompany her to Fashion Week?” On the other end of the line, his breath hitched. Silence stretched for two seconds. “What nonsense are you talking about? That never happened… You’re getting more paranoid by the day…” Then, Lauren’s voice piped up. “Miles, the show is about to start. You came out here to relax, and I don’t want you to be unhappy because of me. When we go back, I’ll personally apologize to Sienna. I’ll even get down on my knees if that’s what it takes.” The call was abruptly cut off. They probably didn’t want to miss the show. I held my new passport, and my tears finally fell uncontrollably. “Mom, I won’t let them get away with this,” I whispered to the empty room. It was a promise to my late mother. I didn’t know how long I cried. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. The next morning, I woke up with swollen eyes. I put on sunglasses and walked downstairs, only to see a busy figure in the kitchen. Miles walked out, freezing for a second when he saw me, but he quickly put on his usual nonchalant face. “You’re awake? I made breakfast. Come eat.” “I knew you’d overthink things yesterday, so I flew back overnight without even resting.” I opened my mouth to tell him to get lost, but then a slender figure wearing my silk bathrobe walked out of the bathroom. She rushed straight into Miles’s arms, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Miles, you’re so sweet. I love a man who knows how to take care of people.” Miles quickly peeled her off him, a trace of panic in his voice. “How old are you, acting like a child?” He turned to explain to me. “When we landed, there was a sudden downpour. We got soaked. I told Lauren to come over and change first. She insisted on coming to apologize to you, so I let her borrow your clothes.” Lauren stuck her tongue out and looked at me. “Sienna, I’m here to apologize. Yesterday was really just a joke! If you don’t believe me, I’ll join the social season this weekend and marry myself off. I promise I won’t get in your way.” “Lauren! Stop messing around!” Miles snapped. Sensing the mock on my lips, he quickly tried to smooth things over. “I mean, Sienna has always been generous and kind. She’s already forgiven you. There’s no need for you to go marry some old man.” “Right, Sienna? Let’s just forget about yesterday, okay?” I was practically on my “deathbed,” yet he was playing house with his mistress at Paris Fashion Week. And now he wanted me to just let it go? Of course. I let out a cold smile. “Sure. I don’t mind.” After all, you two will be broke soon anyway. What your relationship is, where you slept last night, and what you did—I couldn’t care less. Hearing this, Miles looked relieved. He adjusted his glasses. “I’m glad you understand. I’ve put my current projects on hold to spend time with you. Once you’re feeling better, we’ll finalize the divorce, and I’ll go back to work.” I nodded calmly. He was my husband. He was supposed to accompany me through my “final days.” But a flash of malice crossed Lauren’s eyes. She spun around, took the cup Miles was holding, and walked toward me. “Sienna, you have to try this cappuccino Miles made. Last time we went out, I said the coffee there was amazing, and Miles promised he’d learn how to make it for me. I just tasted it, and it tastes exactly the same.” Miles looked at me nervously. He used to say his hands were meant for signing multi-million dollar contracts, not for cooking. When I first handed him my “cancer” diagnosis, he had stared at it in shock, then grabbed my hand with red eyes. “Don’t be afraid, Sienna. I’m here.” Since then, he would dive into the kitchen after work, researching recipes. I thought he had finally found his conscience. I thought he remembered our past warmth. It turned out he wasn’t practicing for me. He was practicing for another woman. Lauren held the coffee out to me, her smile dripping with triumph. “Try it, Sienna. It’s Miles’s hard work.” I looked at her and smiled. The next second, I swung my hand hard. “Smash!” The beautifully crafted cup shattered on the floor, hot coffee splashing all over Lauren. “Ah!” she screamed, jumping back in pain. Miles’s face fell. He lunged forward and shoved me away. “Sienna! Are you insane!” I stumbled, my waist slamming hard against the sofa armrest. A sharp pain shot through my back. He didn’t even look at me. He was too busy checking Lauren’s arm. “Are you hurt? Is it bad? Let me see!” Lauren sobbed, burying herself in his chest. “Miles, it hurts… Does Sienna hate me that much?” Miles held her close, glaring at me like I was a madwoman. “She’s just spoiled! She’s lost her mind from the sickness!” I held my aching waist and looked coldly at the two of them. “Get out.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was freezing. “Get the hell out of my house.” Miles frowned. “Sienna, stop being unreasonable. Lauren was only trying to be nice…” “Nice?” I cut him off, pointing at the door. “Wearing my bathrobe, standing in my house, bragging about the coffee you made for her—that’s her being nice?” “I said, get out!” I grabbed another glass from the table and shattered it at their feet. Lauren shrieked, flinching. Miles finally snapped, pulling Lauren behind him. “Enough, Sienna! Look at yourself! You look like a psycho!” “I stayed to accompany you, not to let you step all over me! I signed the divorce papers, and I even let you have the majority of the assets! What more do you want!” He thought he was making a sacrifice. He didn’t know that the assets under his name were already hollowed out. Every single equity transfer sheet he had signed was a trap. “I don’t want anything,” I said calmly. “I just want some peace before I die. The two of you are hurting my eyes.” Miles’s chest heaved with anger. Ultimately, he dragged Lauren away. Before leaving, he cast a complicated look at me. “Sienna, watch yourself.” The front door slammed shut. Finally, the world was quiet. I bent down and picked up the shattered porcelain piece by piece. The sharp edges sliced into my finger, and a bead of blood welled up. I didn’t care. This little pain was nothing.

The next day, Miles’s mother, Sarah, showed up. She was a woman who always wore heavy makeup and looked down on everyone. The moment Sarah walked in, she swept a disgusted glance around the living room, as if she had stepped into a slum. “Sienna, I heard you kicked Miles out?” She sat across from me, her posture arrogant. I didn’t say a word, continuing to trim the roses in my vase. I had bought these roses for myself. Seeing me ignore her, Sarah’s face turned sour. “I’m warning you, don’t think you can manipulate Miles just because you’re dying! Miles is soft-hearted enough to spend your remaining days with you. That is your blessing!” “Don’t be ungrateful! Call Miles back right now and apologize!” I snipped a stem with a sharp “click”. I finally looked up at her and smiled. “Sarah, did you forget? This house is mine. I bought it with my pre-marital funds. I can kick out whoever I want.” Sarah’s face instantly turned red. “You! You little…” She was speechless with rage. I laid down the shears and wiped my hands with a cloth. “And as for the ‘blessing’ you mentioned, I’ll pass. After all, my life was drained by the ‘blessings’ of the Whitfield family.” “Your son is accompanying a dying woman while flying to Paris to watch fashion shows and try on wedding dresses with a little starlet. Whoever wants that blessing can have it.” Sarah stood up abruptly, pointing her finger at my nose. “Lies! Miles did that for work! Lauren is a good girl, unlike you—bitter, toxic, and full of disease!” “Our family was cursed the day we let you in!” My smile widened. I tapped the screen of my phone, which was recording under the table. Perfect. Keep going. The nastier, the better. “Sienna, let me tell you, the moment Miles divorces you, he’s marrying Lauren! She’s young, beautiful, and healthy. Not like you, who can’t even bear a child!” “You better behave. Otherwise, even after you die, we won’t let you or your short-lived mother rest in peace!” She yelled until her throat was dry, then reached for my coffee cup on the table. I firmly pressed my hand down on the rim of the cup. “Sarah, I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.” She froze. “What do you mean?” I let out a cold laugh. “I’m afraid my disease might be contagious.” Sarah’s face turned pale instantly. She yanked her hand back. She pointed at me, her finger trembling. “You… you psycho!” With that, she grabbed her Hermès bag and fled. I stopped the recording, named the file “The Whitfield Family’s True Colors,” and sent it to my lawyer. My lawyer replied instantly: “Got it, Ms. Marlowe. Another solid piece of evidence.” My death was near. But so was my rebirth.

Only one day left until my “death.” The company was in complete chaos. I had frozen all of Miles and Lauren’s projects, which effectively cut off the company’s main revenue stream for the next six months. Dozens of executives and board members were spamming my phone. I didn’t answer a single call. I simply instructed my secretary to send out a company-wide email. The content was simple: “Effective immediately, all operations of the company are suspended for an internal audit. No employee shall provide any support to Miles Whitfield or Lauren Scott in the name of the company. Violators will be terminated immediately and face legal prosecution.” This email was the final straw. Miles could no longer sit still. He called me again from yet another new number. “Sienna! What the hell do you want? You’re going to destroy the company! You’re destroying me!” His voice carried a hint of hysterical panic. I leaned back on the lounge chair on my balcony, basking in the sun. “Miles, don’t get worked up. The company is mine. If I want to destroy it, that’s my right.” “You!” He choked on his words. “You can’t do this! This company is the result of my hard work for years! Even if you hate me, you can’t play with the company’s survival!” “Your hard work?” I laughed. “Miles, did you forget? This company was built dollar by dollar using the inheritance my father left me. I poured hundreds of millions into it.” “Your so-called hard work is just a stage I built for you. Now, I’m tearing down the stage. Is there a problem?” There was a dead silence on the other end. After a long time, his voice came through again, this time with a trace of begging. “Sienna, I’m begging you. Just resume the projects, okay? We can settle our personal issues privately. Don’t drag the company into this.” “We can divorce. I’ll walk away with nothing, I’ll give everything to you, okay?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “444245”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I spent three years waiting for official status, but all I got from the man I loved was, “Take the blame for this first.” The moment I hit send on my resignation email, I thought what I’d lost was love. It wasn’t until I stood in the mountain wind of Los Angeles and heard someone say my name, clear as day, that I finally understood—what I truly needed to take back was never Ethan Hayes’s heart. It was the version of myself they had trampled into the mud. I left New York behind for Los Angeles. Once a project manager forced to take others’ heat, I’d grown into a respected lead planner. I’d let go of my quiet unrequited love, the undeserved mercy I’d handed out, and the mask I’d worn—the girl who could take anything. When the old lights came back on, when my name was no longer erased, I finally dared to say: some roads don’t require waiting for someone to walk with you. Walk them alone, and the sky still won’t fall. Lydia Lane pov I had just clicked send on my resignation email when Ethan Hayes called me backstage at the press conference and tried to force me to admit I was a thief. Just beyond a curtain, the room was packed with media. On the big screen, the key visual for the Titanic Ruins Restoration played on a loop. Every detail was the result of half a month of my sleepless effort. But at the very top of the list of lead creators, three words were written in bold: Nora Wells. Wrapped in a shawl, Nora Wells’s eyes were red in just the right way. “Ethan, I really didn’t know she’d written a similar proposal too. She’s been with you for so many years. I can understand her wanting to use my work to prove herself. But there are so many reporters out there. I can’t afford to be humiliated like this.” I looked at that hypocritical face, my fingers slowly clenching tight. I had once been the inconspicuous foil beside Nora Wells. After Nora went abroad, I became the woman Ethan Hayes kept hidden from the light. For three years, I drank in his place, worked overtime with him, and even let him take whatever he wanted in bed. I thought I might eventually earn official status, but on the very first day Nora returned, my hard work became an offering for her. Ethan looked at me, his tone an unquestionable order. “Lydia, take responsibility for this first.” “That proposal is mine.” My voice went cold. “I know.” Ethan frowned and said as if it were only natural, “That’s all I’m asking—just take the blame temporarily. Nora’s only just gotten back; she can’t have a plagiarism stain on her name.” “She can’t, but I can?” Nora bit her lower lip and kept arguing. “Lydia, I know you blame me. You like Ethan. You finally waited until I left, so of course you’re unwilling to accept this. But feelings aren’t something you can steal by sleeping with someone.” My face went pale. But Ethan did not refute Nora’s humiliation. He only warned me with a dark expression. “What happened between you and me was an accident to begin with. Now that she’s back, everything should go back to where it belongs.” Nora shoved an apology statement into my hand. “Lydia, just help me one last time. Aren’t you the best at enduring things?” On the paper was written: Due to my eagerness to prove myself, I referenced Ms. Nora Wells’s old draft. I stared at that line and suddenly laughed. That was right. I was far too good at enduring. So good that Ethan thought I had no backbone. So good that Nora thought I had been born to be a stepping stone. I casually threw the apology statement into the trash can beside me. “I won’t admit it.” Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Lydia Lane, stop making a scene!” “Mr. Hayes, I’m not making a scene.” I pulled the work badge from around my neck and slapped it onto the table. “My resignation email has already been sent to HR. In thirty days, I will leave Hayes Group.” Ethan’s brow twitched sharply. Nora was the first to laugh. “Resigning? Can you bear to?” I didn’t even spare her a glance. I stared into Ethan’s eyes. “Whether the press conference goes on is your business. Whether my name gets erased is also your business. But from today onward, I will not take the blame for any of you ever again.” I turned to leave, but Ethan’s hand clamped tightly around my wrist. He was like a beast whose tail had been stepped on. “You think sending one email means you can cut ties with me?” I pulled my hand back inch by inch with all my strength. My voice was dead in a way it had never been before. “I’m not cutting ties. This ends here.”

Lydia Lane pov In the end, the press conference still went on. But because of my protest, Ethan Hayes had no choice but to temporarily remove the media Q&A and only let Nora Wells go onstage to show off her “thoughts on returning to the country.” I sat in the last row and watched Nora enjoy the applause onstage, my face expressionless as I closed my laptop. If I hadn’t fought to the end tonight, I was afraid I would be the one standing onstage right now, facing everyone’s accusations. I took a deep breath. If you back down for too long, other people will only start treating your blood, sweat, and tears as something they’re entitled to. But from now on, I would never let anyone step on me to climb higher again. The moment the press conference ended, an assistant ran over, drenched in cold sweat. “Manager Lane, Mr. Hayes wants you in the lounge immediately.” When I pushed the door open, Nora was leaning against the sofa, wiping away tears. Ethan stood by the window, his face as dark as water. The moment she saw me, Nora immediately played the victim first. “Lydia, you almost ruined my press conference just now!” Ethan stubbed out his cigarette and gave an order in a charitable tone. “Organize a copy of the draft materials and send it to Nora tonight. Externally, we’ll keep the story consistent: you handled execution, and she was the lead creator. Bonuses, a promotion—any compensation you’re after, just say the word.” Compensation again. Every time he wronged me, he threw money at me, as if dismissing a beggar. “I only want my credit.” My voice was firm. Nora looked as if she’d heard a joke. “You insist on fighting me over this?” “I’m taking back what belongs to me!” Ethan’s expression sank completely to freezing point. “Lydia Lane, don’t take this too far. Nora is upset. If you lower your head, the project can continue.” “If the project can only continue by making me lower my head, then let it die.” The lounge fell into dead silence. Ethan stared at me as if he were looking at a lunatic. “For the sake of one empty title, you’re willing to abandon a project worth tens of millions for Hayes Group?” “Mr. Hayes, I’ve resigned.” I looked at him. “Hayes Group’s tens of millions are not my responsibility.” Those words were like a poisoned thorn, stabbing into Ethan’s chest and making it contract abruptly. He yanked open a drawer, threw out a check, and pushed it over. “Three million! Give the draft materials to Nora, and I’ll pretend your resignation never happened!” Beside him, Nora sneered. “Lydia, stop pretending. The only reason you stayed by Ethan’s side was for money, wasn’t it?” I walked forward and picked up that check. Ethan’s tense jaw had only just started to relax when, in the next second— Rip. In front of both of them, I tore the check in half and threw it back onto the table. “I used to like you. It’s true. I liked you in a way that had no dignity.” I looked at Ethan’s livid face, every word clear. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll have no self-respect forever.” After I finished speaking, I turned and left, my steps not faltering once. Nora cried and threw herself into Ethan’s arms, but this time, Ethan did not lower his head to comfort her. He stared fixedly at the closed door, then at the shredded check on the floor. Suddenly, his heart filled with an uncontrollable panic.

Lydia Lane pov The internal group chat was full of people mocking me. “No matter how hard a foil struggles, she’s still just a foil. The moment the first love comes back, all she can do is get lost.” I didn’t leave the group, and I didn’t explain. I was at my desk, organizing the last few handover checklists. That afternoon was the Titanic Ruins Restoration Project progress meeting. Nora sat in the main seat, with the proposal I had stayed up writing placed in front of her. She read it haltingly, stumbling whenever she reached professional terms. A partner frowned and interrupted her. “Ms. Wells, I’d like to ask, why does the entrance exhibition hall deliberately avoid the north entrance?” Nora flipped through the proposal in her hands until her face went white. Then she looked to me as if asking for help. Of course the polished public version didn’t mention it. Because beneath the north entrance was the old drainage ditch that could collapse at any moment. That was something I had discovered only after going to the muddy site three times myself. The entire conference room was waiting. With a dark expression, Ethan looked toward me in the corner and ordered, “You answer.” I snapped my notebook shut and didn’t even lift my eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Hayes. Under the current credit split, I’ve got no standing to weigh in here.” The conference room instantly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Nora’s tears fell all at once. “Lydia, do you have to publicly embarrass me like this?” Ethan shot to his feet, suppressing towering rage. “Meeting adjourned!” Once everyone had left, Ethan locked the conference room door behind them. His voice was as cold as if it had been dipped in ice. “You enjoyed publicly embarrassing Nora today, didn’t you?” “I simply didn’t step onstage for her again.” “She just came back. There are many things she’s not familiar with yet!” “If she’s not familiar with them, then she shouldn’t be shamelessly occupying the lead creator’s name!” I refused to back down. Ethan stared at me, his teeth clenched. “You didn’t used to be this petty.” “That’s right.” I only found it absurd. “In the past, I was at your beck and call. Even after you drained me dry, I still had to smile and say it was fine. Of course you thought I was useful.” “But Ethan Hayes, the past is the past, and now is now.” “Now, I will not yield another inch! Anything that belongs to me, I won’t give away a single piece of it!” Nora suddenly pushed the door open and came in, crying tearfully fragile. “Ethan, I quit! Since she looks down on me anyway, staying here would only be humiliating!” She made as if to leave, but Ethan pulled her into his arms at once, then turned and stared hard at me. “Apologize to her! Lydia Lane, don’t make me say it a second time!” I didn’t move. Ethan roared, “Apologize!” I picked up the documents on the table and threw them directly in front of Ethan. “This is the safety hazard explanation for the north entrance. There’s no apology. I’ve given you the risk warning. You’d better take care of yourself.” I pulled open the door and strode out. Behind me came the deafening crash of Ethan smashing a teacup, followed by the sound of shattering glass. But I didn’t look back even once.

Lydia Lane pov On Friday night, Ethan Hayes brought Nora Wells to the Ruins Restoration Association’s private dinner. To keep Nora from making a fool of herself, he used an ordering tone to summon me over too, even though I had been about to get off work and pack my things. I went—not for him, but to give my own hard work one final proper ending. At North City Club, the courtyard was filled with birch trees. The moment Nora entered, she couldn’t wait to belittle me in front of the various people in charge. “This is Ethan’s assistant. She’s best at cleaning up messes. Wherever things get chaotic, just call her over, and she’ll tidy it up immediately.” A knowing chuckle broke out around the table. I lowered my eyes and remained unmoved. After a few rounds of drinks, Nora, in an effort to show off, actually described the ancient Greek artifact restoration overseen by one chairman as a commercial street renovation. The chairman’s face darkened on the spot. “Mr. Hayes, is your ruins restoration project about culture, or is it about putting on a show?” Nora panicked and looked to Ethan for help. Just as the atmosphere dropped to freezing point, I set down my teacup. I didn’t use any flowery language. In only three minutes, I clearly explained the origins of ancient Greek artifacts, the taboos involved in artifact preservation, and the spiritual core of the project. Not only did I smooth things over, I also brought out the full depth of the cultural foundation. The chairman’s expression turned from cloudy to clear, and he nodded in approval. “Now that is someone who has truly done her homework.” Nora’s face instantly flushed bright red, and she was so jealous she looked like she might go insane. Ethan had just opened his mouth to save face when two crisp claps suddenly came from the corner. It was a man in a dark gray shirt, with a refined, clean presence and the calm ease of someone in a position of power. The person in charge of Shanhai Company, Nathan Grant. His gaze passed over the crowd and landed directly on me. “The cultural substance Ms. Lane mentioned just now is something I reviewed a few days ago as well. Your judgment is very accurate. If the project followed your original proposal, it could be saved. If it follows the version currently made public—” He gave a soft laugh, not even glancing at Nora. “I’m afraid all that’s left is a pile of flashy but useless garbage.” The entire room fell dead silent. Nora’s tears spilled from her eyes. “Mr. Grant, are you saying I don’t understand anything?” “I’m talking about the proposal,” Nathan said in an extremely calm tone. “This project isn’t some trinket you can wave to cheer up your lover. Whoever poured their heart into writing it should be the one standing in the spotlight.” Those words were like a loud slap, striking Ethan and Nora hard across the face. When the private dinner ended, Nathan stopped me and handed me a business card. “After you leave Hayes Group, you can come to Shanhai Company. The pay isn’t much, but your name will be written cleanly on every piece of work you do.” For some reason, my eyes heated. I accepted the card with both hands. That scene fell into Ethan’s eyes. His gaze abruptly turned dark and hostile as he strode forward. “Since when are you two this close? You want to go to Los Angeles?” He laughed coldly. “Some lousy company is worth giving up Hayes Group for?” I carefully put the business card into my bag, then lifted my head and looked at Ethan’s stunned face. My voice was soft, but resolute. “At least there, they won’t put the name of the woman you love on work I poured my heart into.” With that, I turned and stepped into the night. Ethan froze where he stood, his expression ugly to the extreme. He suddenly realized that this time, I was truly walking forever toward the light that belonged to me.

Lydia Lane pov On the twenty-third day of my resignation countdown, Nora Wells cried at Hayes Group. The cause was an old lamp. That lamp had been donated by a descendant of a Titanic victim. Its metal frame was charred black, marked with scars left by the shipwreck. I had originally planned to place it in the starting display case of the Titanic Ruins Restoration, so visitors would know that our project was not a scene built out of thin air. It was a place where people had lived, longed, and waited. Nora disliked how old it was. She said it didn’t look good in photos and told someone to replace it with a glass lighthouse. When the workers moved it, they lost their grip. The old lamp fell to the ground, and two parts of the frame snapped. The donor, George Shaw, rushed over. Looking at that lamp, his hands trembled. “This was left to me by my grandfather.” Nora cried on the spot. “I only wanted the lamp to look prettier. I didn’t know it was this serious.” When Ethan arrived, the first person he looked at was Nora. “Were you hurt?” Nora shook her head, her tears falling even harder. “Ethan, did Lydia Lane deliberately not tell me this lamp couldn’t be moved? She knew I had just taken over and didn’t understand anything.” I stood off to the side, still holding the call records with the restoration specialist. I said, “I wrote it three times on the handover form. The old lamp is for display only. Do not move it.” Nora bit her lip. “There are so many documents. How could I possibly read every single word? You waited for me to make a mistake on purpose.” George looked at them arguing, his face blue with anger. “If Hayes Group doesn’t respect these objects, then don’t do the project at all!” Ethan frowned and turned to me. “Go explain it to George Shaw.” “Explain what?” “Say it was an oversight in your handover.” I looked at him and suddenly lost the strength to speak. I thought I could no longer hurt, but every time, Ethan could use the lightest tone to press me down even lower. “I won’t go,” I said. Ethan’s patience ran out. “Lydia Lane, when something goes wrong with a project, the person in charge should take responsibility.” “The person in charge now is Nora Wells.” Nora cried and took a step back. “Then I’ll just leave. I’m not worthy of being in charge.” Ethan immediately grabbed her, his voice softening. “No one is asking you to leave.” Then he looked at me. “You’re suspended for three days. Write an explanation for the descendants of the Titanic survivors. Once they calm down, come back and continue the handover.” I didn’t argue. I returned to my desk, printed out the suspension notice, and placed it together with my resignation email. The two documents lay side by side, like a joke. Before I got off work, HR came to ask me, “Manager Lane, your resignation is still proceeding according to the thirty-day notice, right? Mr. Hayes hasn’t rejected it, so we’ll process it according to the resignation date.” I nodded. “Thank you.” HR sighed and lowered their voice. “Have you really thought this through?” “I have.” When I carried my cardboard box out of the company, it was raining. There was no car at the entrance, and no one waiting for me. My phone rang once. It was a message from Ethan Hayes. He said, Nora was frightened today. Don’t upset her again. I looked at it for a long time, then replied with the last private message I would send him during this period. I said, Ethan Hayes, I hurt too. After the message went out, there was no reply for a long time. I put my phone back into my bag and walked into the rain. The rain struck the ribs of my umbrella in a dense patter. I didn’t take a Hayes Group car. Instead, I walked to the bus stop and squeezed in with ordinary people heading home from overtime. Beside me, an older woman carried groceries. A young man lowered his head to watch short videos. No one knew I had just been suspended, and no one cared that I had loved the wrong person. Suddenly, I felt that this kind of “not being seen” was very nice. At least here, I didn’t have to wait for Ethan Hayes to condemn me with a single word at any moment, and I didn’t have to step aside for Nora Wells’s tears. After I got back to the apartment, I dragged my suitcase out from under the bed. The first things I put inside weren’t clothes, but my diploma and a few old project notebooks. There wasn’t much I could take with me, but with those few things pressed against the bottom of the suitcase, my heart felt steady. I stopped packing the things Ethan Hayes had given me. Every single one of them felt like a reminder that when I was wronged, I could only take the money and keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to bring any of that to Los Angeles.

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On the day of the hurricane, everyone at the office was allowed to go home early. I stayed behind in the empty building, waiting for my boyfriend, Justin, to pick me up because my car was in the shop. But as the wind howled louder and louder outside, Justin was still nowhere to be seen. I called him, but it went straight to voicemail. Our last text message was from an hour ago. He had sent a short, “On my way.” I couldn’t help but start worrying about him. As darkness fell, the rain outside turned into a torrential downpour. The lightbulb above my head flickered violently before dying out with a sharp pop. In the pitch black, I dialed Justin’s number again. This time, the call went through, but a familiar female voice answered: “Chloe?” I froze, caught off guard. “Where’s Justin?” “Justin is driving right now, so it’s not really convenient for him to pick up.” “Where are you guys?” “On the way to my apartment. Justin said it’s too dangerous for me to head home alone in this storm.” “Oh, by the way, he said he texted you like half an hour ago telling you to just Uber home. You’re already back, right?” Outside the window, the wind shrieked. My heart gradually turned into a block of ice. Over the past three years, Justin had showered all his care and attention on this co-worker of his, Gemma. And tonight, the very last ember of my love for him was completely snuffed out. “Yeah, I’m home.” A home that would never welcome him back again.

The girl on the other end of the line let out a visible sigh of relief. “Good to hear. We’re almost at my place too.” “But the hurricane is about to make landfall. Justin wanted me to tell you that he’ll probably have to crash at my place tonight.” “Okay,” I replied, my voice completely flat. From the background of the call, Justin’s voice drifted over. Even with the distance, I could clearly hear the tenderness in his tone. “Are you cold? Should I turn up the heater?” Gemma giggled. “Are you serious, Justin? It’s literally the middle of summer!” Right. It was summer. Yet, I felt so cold that my body wouldn’t stop shaking. The call ended. I stared down at our Snapchat thread. There was no message telling me to take an Uber. Maybe he did try to send it, but it failed due to the bad reception. Either way, it only proved one thing: after sending that message, he hadn’t bothered to check our chat even once. He didn’t use to be like this. When we first started dating in college, he was practically glued to his phone whenever he wasn’t sleeping or in class. He would text me about the most trivial things, even if a random dog barked at him on the street. He used to reply to my texts within seconds. He had said he couldn’t bear to miss a single message from me, and he wanted to be there the very second I ever needed him. Now, the person he worried about was someone else. A bitter feeling spread from the bottom of my heart. The howling wind outside felt like an invisible hand, squeezing my chest over and over again. By 6:00 PM, the hurricane made landfall. And I was trapped all alone in the office. I walked into the breakroom and shut the door tight. Then, I texted my parents, who lived in another state, to tell them I was safe. They asked: Are you with Justin? I stared at the screen for a moment before typing: Yeah. The screen went dark, and the room plunged back into shadows. It was so quiet that the only sound was the violent storm outside. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed it almost instinctively. Only to feel my chest hollow out in the next second. It was just a safety alert from the city government. The last line read: Please stay safe indoors with your family. We will get through this storm together. On Instagram, everyone was posting about how insane the hurricane was, alongside pictures of their cozy dinners. My stomach rumbled. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I rummaged through the breakroom cabinets, found a bag of stale crackers, and chewed on them while scrolling through food pictures on Instagram. Suddenly, my thumb froze. I saw Gemma’s latest post. What do I do when my co-worker is such an amazing cook? He’s totally ruining my appetite for other food. The picture showed a beautifully prepared plate of Spanish Tapas—Justin’s absolute specialty. In the corner of the frame, Justin’s hand was visible, flashing a peace sign. He had once promised me that he would never cook for any woman in his life besides his mother and me. I guess his “lifetime” was exceptionally short. I liked the post and left a comment underneath: Then you should probably make him your boyfriend. A few minutes later, a text from Justin popped up on my screen. Chloe, was that comment really necessary? Necessary? Were their actions not far more questionable than my single comment? He had opened our chat, yet he hadn’t even noticed the failed text message. He didn’t even bother to ask where I was. My fingers gripped the phone so hard they turned white. I was just about to text him back, to tell him that I never made it home and was currently trapped in the office. But then, a deafening explosion shattered the silence outside!

Terrified, I peeked through the blinds of the breakroom window. One of the massive floor-to-ceiling glass panes in the main office area had completely shattered. The wild wind rushed into the office like a monster. Debris flew in through the giant hole, slamming heavily against the breakroom door. Trembling, I dragged the breakroom couch to block the door. My mind went entirely blank. By the time I regained my senses, I had already dialed Justin’s number. It rang for nearly thirty seconds before he finally picked up. Before I could speak, Justin said impatiently: “Chloe, hold on a second, I’m kind of busy right now…” Swallowing my terror, I gasped, “Justin, I’m still at the office. The glass window shattered, and I’m so scared…” There was a long pause on the other end. “What shattered? The living room window? Just go back to the bedroom and lock the door. You’ll be fine. I’ll call someone to fix it tomorrow…” In the background, I could hear the faint sound of a video game. In the next second, Gemma cheered loudly: “Yes! I won again!” Justin chuckled, his voice dripping with affection. “Fine, fine, I lost. I’ll buy you dinner next time.” “What do you mean next time? You’re buying tomorrow!” “Sure, whatever you want…” The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat. At that exact moment, I finally realized it. My seven-year relationship with Justin had ultimately lost to a girl he had known for three years. Three years ago, when he first mentioned Gemma to me, he sounded so annoyed. Gemma had joined the company on the same day as him, and their manager paired them up. He complained that Gemma messed up all the data sheet, forcing him to work overtime for two nights to fix it. He also complained that she accidentally spilled coffee on his favorite jacket, ruining it. For a long time, he sighed whenever Gemma’s name came up. Later, their department had a dinner party and invited me along. That was the first time I met her. She was a year younger than us, with a round face and a bit of baby fat. That night, the way Justin looked at her made me uncomfortable. Now I finally understood. That look was pure adoration. Later on, when I asked Justin to go to an art gallery with me on the weekend, he said Gemma’s laptop was broken and he needed to go over and fix it. Seeing my silence, he quickly explained that all their team files were saved on that laptop. Another time, I mentioned a new thriller movie that was getting great reviews and asked if he wanted to see it. He hesitated before saying he had already watched it with Gemma. He claimed the company had given out free tickets to their department. But I later found out that the two of them had booked seats in the far corner, away from everyone else in their team. Then, he started driving her home every time it rained. He kept track of her period and bought her warm drinks. He even memorized her food allergies and would remind the waiters beforehand… I saw all of it. One day, I finally asked him: “Justin, do you have feelings for Gemma?” He was stunned for a second, then laughed. “How could I like that clumsy girl? I’m just being a good colleague and helping her out.” Clumsy girl. What an affectionate nickname. And what he did for her had long crossed the line of “just being a good colleague.” I didn’t know when I eventually fell asleep that night. It felt like a long, exhausting nightmare. When I woke up, the sun was shining, the storm had passed, and the street below was buzzing with life again. Fortunately, my nightmare with Justin was also officially over. I went back to our shared apartment, took a shower, and changed my clothes. As I walked out of the bathroom, the front door clicked open. Justin walked in. Seeing me, he let out a sigh of relief and asked, “Are you okay after last night? What about the window…” He looked toward the living room window. It was completely intact. I said flatly, “It was just a nightmare.” He nodded, not questioning further. Seeing me grabbing my keys to head out again, he suddenly called out to me. He looked hesitant, but spoke anyway: “Chloe, about that dinner with your parents next Wednesday… can we reschedule?” I looked at him, expressionless. “Why?” He said in a sympathetic tone, “Next Wednesday is the anniversary of Gemma’s mother’s passing. Her dad is out of the country and can’t make it back. She’s going to be all alone. It’s just so sad.” My fingernails dug into my palm. I forced myself to remain calm. “This is the fourth time you’ve canceled on my parents, Justin. They already bought their flight tickets.” He cut me off, his voice tinged with annoyance. “What do you want me to do, just ignore her? We’re colleagues, Chloe.” But we are partners. I kept those words to myself. My temples throbbed from the lack of sleep. Massaging my forehead, I said indifferently, “Sure. Go ahead.” His face lit up with joy. “I knew you’d understand! Don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it up to your parents next time.” His phone rang with that familiar ringtone. He answered it quickly as he walked into the bedroom. “Chloe said yes, Gemma. I’ll be there with you next Wednesday…” Meanwhile, I pulled out my phone and texted my mom: Mom, you know how you always said Justin wasn’t the one for me, and that you wanted to introduce me to your friend’s handsome son? Let’s arrange that meeting for next Wednesday.

By the time I arrived at the office, maintenance workers were already replacing the shattered glass window. My co-workers were still shaken up. “Thank God we left early yesterday. That was terrifying.” Seeing me, one of my colleagues waved. “Hey Chloe, your boyfriend picked you up yesterday, right?” I smiled faintly. “No, he was too busy driving his female co-worker home.” The office went dead silent. Someone asked cautiously, “So… you had to Uber home in that storm?” “No, I spent the night in the breakroom.” Everyone gasped. After a long silence, a colleague gently patted my shoulder. “Chloe, you are incredibly strong.” I didn’t think there was any reason to hide it. After all, I wasn’t the one who did anything wrong. Right before clocking out, I received a text from Justin: I’m downstairs outside your office. My eyes flickered. He hadn’t picked me up from work in almost a year. Even when he did promise to pick me up, he would always cancel at the last minute because of Gemma. I walked downstairs and indeed saw his car parked by the curb. I walked over. But just as my hand was about to touch the front passenger door handle, the window rolled down, revealing Gemma’s cute face. “Hi, Chloe!” Justin spoke from the driver’s seat, “Gemma said there’s a new Mexican place nearby that’s amazing. I got us a table. Want to join?” I stared at him, my voice barely a whisper: “Justin, I can’t eat spicy food.” He froze, a flash of embarrassment crossing his face. In the end, they drove off without me. He didn’t come to pick me up. He just happened to be in the neighborhood and remembered I existed. He had even forgotten that I couldn’t eat spicy food. Yet, he used to be the guy who would meticulously pick out every single piece of chili from my plate if the chef forgot his instructions. My eyes burned, but the evening breeze quickly dried the tears. I decided to break up with Justin this weekend. But out of nowhere, he mysteriously told me that he had planned a big event for Saturday and wanted me to arrive early. I was stunned. Saturday was our seventh anniversary. So, he did remember. I didn’t care what he had planned, but I would use that day to officially end things. Justin told me to be there by 10:00 AM. But because of heavy traffic, I didn’t arrive until 10:30 AM. As I walked toward the private dining room, memories flashed through my mind. For our past anniversaries, he used to rack his brain to plan the perfect surprises. He once used candles to spell out the date we first met. He secretly learned to play the guitar just to sing a song I casually mentioned I liked. He made a scrapbook filled with every single memory of us. But starting three years ago, every single anniversary was cut short. Three years ago, Gemma fell sick. He told me we had plenty of anniversaries ahead of us, but Gemma was all alone in the hospital. Two years ago, Gemma claimed someone was stalking her. He abandoned our half-eaten cake and rushed to her apartment. Last year, Gemma got too drunk at a bar. He said he was just driving her home, but he didn’t return until the next morning. This year, I didn’t expect anything. I just wanted to finish a meal together and say what needed to be said. I pushed the door open. Confetti exploded into the air, raining down on my face. The room was packed with people, all of them unfamiliar faces. But when they saw it was me, they all froze. “Wait, that’s not Gemma.” “I thought you said you heard Gemma’s footsteps!” “Quick, clean this up! She’s gonna be here any second!” I stood there, completely lost. Until Justin pulled me aside and shoved a confetti popper into my hands. “I told you to get here early! Quick, stand here and pop this when Gemma walks in.” It took me a long moment to find my voice. The situation was so absurd I almost laughed out loud. I looked at him and asked, “What is going on here?”

His eyes remained glued to the door as he replied: “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Gemma’s project got approved, and management is promoting her.” “So, this is her promotion party.” Justin was so distracted that he didn’t notice the coldness in my voice. “You always complained that I never bring you along when I hang out with my colleagues. So, I invited you today.” “Justin, do you even know what today is?” Justin blinked at me, looking entirely clueless. I smiled, nodded slowly, and spoke clearly: “Justin, let’s break up.” “Congratulations on the promotion, Gemma!” The loud explosion of confetti and the roaring cheers drowned out my voice. Justin had already rushed to Gemma’s side, throwing an arm around her shoulder. A mocking smile touched my lips as I turned around and walked out. I pulled out my phone and saw a text my mom sent thirty minutes ago: Your dad and I just boarded the plane, Chloe. I’m so glad you’ve finally moved on. The guy my mom wanted to introduce me to happened to be in the city too. My mom said he had already agreed to have dinner with us on Wednesday. I texted back a simple “Okay” and headed straight to the airport to pick up my parents. The next day, I took my parents sightseeing. Just as we finished touring one of the local spots, my phone rang. It was Justin. He sounded frantic, demanding to know where I was. I didn’t want to deal with him, but he sounded so desperate that I eventually sent him my location. Within minutes, he arrived in a rush—and Gemma was right behind him. Seeing my parents standing behind me, he froze for a second before pulling me aside, his voice lowered in anger: “What is this, Chloe? I told you I have to be with Gemma on Wednesday. I don’t have time to have dinner with your parents.” I looked at him coldly. “If you’re busy, can’t I find someone else to join us?” Assuming I was just being petty, he ignored my comment. He pulled out his phone, opened an Instagram post, and pointed at a comment. “Chloe, did you write this?” The post featured a few photos from yesterday’s party. The first was Justin with his arm around Gemma. The second was Justin smearing cake on Gemma’s face. The third was the two of them, their heads leaning close together. It was posted on Gemma’s account with the caption: Celebrating with my favorite co-worker, such a happy day!~ Even though so many colleagues had celebrated with her, she only posted pictures of her and Justin. Her intentions couldn’t be more obvious. I let out a soft chuckle. My eyes fell on the comment he was pointing at: To be honest, this guy has a girlfriend. Below the comment was a photo of Justin and me. No wonder he thought it was me. Justin glared at me. “Gemma’s account is getting spammed with hate right now. People are calling her a home-wrecker. If this gets out, it will ruin her promotion!” “Go post a reply right now. Say you’re his girlfriend and you were there too, and that you guys are all just good friends.” “What if I say no?” Justin stunned, his expression hardening. “Chloe, you didn’t use to be so petty.” The disappointment in his eyes was palpable, as if I was the villain in this story. Yet, he was the one who crossed every boundary. Before I could speak, Gemma suddenly burst into tears. “I’m really not a home-wrecker… If our boss sees those comments, my promotion will be canceled!” My parents were standing a few yards away. They didn’t know what was happening, but they looked over with deep concern. Justin gritted his teeth. “Chloe, if you don’t fix this, I’m going to ask your parents to talk some sense into you!” He turned to walk toward them. “I’ll do it,” I called out, my voice ice-cold. I didn’t want my parents to worry about my relationship drama anymore. I opened the post and replied under the comment: I am the girlfriend. Actually, ex-girlfriend. We broke up, and whatever they do has nothing to do with me. Justin frowned slightly. “You didn’t have to say we broke up just to clear her name.” But now that the crisis was averted, his expression softened. He looked at me gratefully. “Chloe, I knew you were still the sweet girl I loved. I’ll make sure to rush over to dinner with your parents tomorrow night.” I didn’t say a word. Taking my silence as agreement, he wrapped his arm around Gemma and walked away. The next day, dinner was set for 6:00 PM. At 7:00 PM, Justin texted saying he just finished driving Gemma home and was on his way. At 8:00 PM, he texted saying Gemma had severe cramps and he had to run to the pharmacy to get her medicine, so he’d be a little late. At 9:00 PM, hurried footsteps echoed outside our private dining room. In the next second, the door burst open. Justin rushed in, holding several gift bags. “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I am so sorry I’m late…” But when he saw the scene inside, the smile on his face instantly froze.

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One year after a near-fatal car crash left me with amnesia, I got married again. I was on my way to the hospital for a prenatal checkup when a little boy suddenly blocked my path. He frowned, his tone ice-cold. “Julian told me to bring you home. Haven’t you thrown enough of a tantrum?” I found it a bit funny. I knelt down and gently patted his head. “Little boy, did you mistake me for someone else?” He slapped my hand away, looking incredibly annoyed. “Stop acting. If you stop this nonsense, I might let you tuck me in tonight.” Though I was baffled, I decided to take him home safely anyway, just to be sure. We stopped in front of a massive, ultra-luxurious mansion. Standing at the gate was a tall man with a sharp suit and a freezing expression. When he saw me, his eyes flickered, but his voice was dripping with disdain. “Vivian Miller. You finally decided to crawl back?” He grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me through the gates. I wrenched myself free with all my strength and instantly dialed my husband’s number. “Tristan! Help me! I think I’ve run into a family of psychopaths!”

Before the voice on the other end could reply, my phone was violently knocked out of my hand. It smashed onto the cobblestone driveway, shattering into pieces. Julian’s brow furrowed with suppressed rage. “Vivian, stop playing dumb.” “So what if I made you take the fall for Serena and spend three years in prison? It’s not like it killed you.” “But look at you. You jumped out of the transport van the moment you got out, and you’ve made Serena feel guilty for an entire year!” “When we go inside, you are going to apologize to her.” For some reason, a sharp, sudden pain pierced my chest. My hands trembled as I picked up the broken pieces of my phone. “You have the wrong person! I don’t even know you!” I turned to run, but Julian grabbed my wrist again, pulling me hard into his chest. He was so close I could smell his expensive cologne, but his eyes were filled with pure disgust. “Vivian, did those years in prison teach you nothing? No one is watching your little drama here.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. My breath caught in my throat. An inexplicable terror wrapped around me, paralyzing my vocal cords. Suddenly, another woman walked out of the mansion. She was wearing a silk lace nightgown, peeking out from behind Julian’s shoulder. “Vivian! You’re back!” “Where have you been this past year? How could you just abandon your husband and your son?” “Julian was wrong about what happened back then, but I already scolded him for you…” Julian. The name sounded incredibly familiar. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember who he was. “Don’t touch me!” I instinctively pushed her away. The woman gasped, slipping and falling hard onto the ground. “I don’t know you people! I want to go home! I want my—” Before I could finish, a sharp pain exploded on my forehead. Warm blood began to trickle down my face. The little boy, Leo, was holding a rock, glaring at me. “You evil woman! Don’t you dare hurt my mom!” Julian looked at me with a flash of worry, but he quickly swept Serena up into his arms first. But Serena broke free, her eyes red as she grabbed my hand. “Vivian, don’t blame Leo. He’s been raised by my side these past few years. He forgot that you’re his biological mother.” She dragged me into the house, pulling out some antiseptic and bandages to dress my wound. “You have no idea how desperately Julian has been searching for you…” Realizing I was trapped, I stopped fighting. I stayed silent, my eyes scanning the walls. They were covered in family vacation photos. A man, a woman, and a child. Holding hands through spring, summer, autumn, and winter. The dates on the photos ran from January to December of last year. My lips curled into a bitter smile. I pointed at the boy who was still glaring at me from the corner. “You say I’m his mother. Then who are you?” “I…” Serena blushed, her eyes darting nervously toward Julian. Julian frowned and snapped at me coldly. “Serena is Marcus’s widow. What’s with the dumb questions?” “While you were in prison, Serena was the one taking care of Leo and me. You should be thanking her.” I found it hilarious. I looked directly at Julian. “If you claim I’m your wife, let me ask you something.” “Why did I have to go to prison for her?” Julian froze, his voice suddenly rising defensively. “Serena is fragile! She couldn’t survive a day in prison! You can’t compare yourself to her!” I stood up, taking a step toward him, throwing out question after question. “Then tell me, what do I like? What’s my favorite flower? What size clothes do I wear?” Julian took a step back, his face turning pale. His lips parted, but not a single word came out. I stared into his eyes, delivering the final blow. “When is my birthday?” Julian remained silent. He clenched his fists, then suddenly roared in frustration. “Enough! Stop acting crazy!” I sneered. I raised my left hand, showing off the massive diamond ring on my ring finger. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vance. I don’t know what kind of delusion you’re suffering from, but I really don’t know you.” “I am happily married. My husband is waiting for me to come home.” “As for the physical assault and illegal detention today, my lawyer will be in touch with you very soon.”

The tube of ointment in Serena’s hand clattered to the floor. She stood up, her face filled with mock disbelief. “Vivian, what did you just say?” “No wonder you refused to come home. You cheated on Julian!” Julian’s eyes turned incredibly dark. He grabbed my wrist so hard his knuckles turned white. “Vivian Miller, who is that bastard?” “Is that why you’re pretending to have amnesia? Just to be with him?!” Like a madman, he dragged me up the stairs by my arm and threw me onto the bed. “Let’s see if that bastard left any marks on you!” “Get off me!” I screamed, swinging my hand and slapping him hard across the face. “If you touch me, my husband will destroy you…” Before I could finish, his mouth slammed onto mine, cutting off my air. Julian used one hand to tear at my clothes, his touch rough and violating. He buried his face in my neck, biting and kissing me, his voice deep and raspy. “You’ve gotten brave, Vivian.” “If you won’t let me touch you, who are you saving yourself for?” I sobbed, fighting him off, when suddenly, the man on top of me froze. His hands hadn’t found smooth, soft skin. Instead, he felt thick, jagged, crisscrossing scars all over my body. Julian’s hands began to shake. He reached out to turn on the bedside lamp. But before he could, the bedroom door was pounded violently. Serena’s delicate, weeping voice drifted in through the door. “Julian! I had another nightmare about Marcus! I dreamed he was beating me, trying to drag me to hell with him!” Julian immediately pushed himself off me. He rushed out of the room and wrapped Serena in his arms, whispering softly. “Serena, it’s not your fault.” “He was abusive. You only killed him in self-defense.” “It’s over now. Don’t be scared. I’m right here with you.” Julian’s tender whispers echoed down the hallway and into my ears. I shivered, desperately buttoning my torn clothes. When I brushed my hair back, my face was completely soaked with tears. I crawled to the door and banged on it with all my might. But even when my fingers were bloody and raw, nobody opened it. I curled up in the corner, whispering one name over and over in my heart. Tristan, please. When are you going to find me? I sat in that dark room all night. The next morning, a maid finally unlocked the door and let me out. She walked past me, completely unfazed by my state, and casually tossed a dead snake into the trash can. Julian was sitting downstairs, reading the Wall Street Journal. Seeing me walk down, he ordered casually, “Serena wants your homemade chicken broth. Go make it.” “And make sure Leo’s milk is strictly room temperature.” “Iron my suits when you’re done. The maids aren’t as neat as you.” These words felt like they were programmed into my DNA. My legs actually started moving toward the kitchen on autopilot. But the moment my hand touched the apron, I snapped out of it. I rushed back into the living room, trembling with rage. “You are kidnapping me! I am calling the police!” Julian looked up from his newspaper, letting out a cold, mocking laugh. “Vivian, what game are you playing now?” I was about to scream at him when my eyes caught a photo on the front page of the newspaper. It was Tristan, attending a high-profile charity gala last week. I pointed at the paper, my voice shaking with excitement. “That’s him! That’s my husband! If you don’t believe me, call him yourself!”

Julian narrowed his eyes, about to say something. But Serena stood on the grand spiral staircase, looking down at me with pure contempt. “Vivian, are you out of your mind?” “Everyone in New York knows Tristan Carter is completely untouchable. He doesn’t even let female business partners near him, let alone a wife.” “Besides, the Vance Group is currently in talks with the Carter Corporation for a merger. We would have heard if he got married.” I clenched my fists, desperate to argue, but a sudden, sharp pain flared in my lower abdomen. My baby… Looking at the unguarded front door, I bolted. “Vivian! Where do you think you’re going?” Serena rushed down the stairs and threw her arms around me, blocking my path. Losing all control, I bit down on her arm, hard enough to tear a piece of flesh off. She screamed in pain, collapsing to the floor and clutching her bleeding arm. “Julian! My arm… it hurts so much!” The tenderness in Julian’s eyes as he looked at her arm instantly turned into murderous rage when he looked up at me. “Vivian Miller! Have you lost your mind?!” Slap! A brutal slap landed squarely on my face. My vision went pitch black, and a loud ringing filled my ears. Before I could recover, Julian dragged me by my hair to Serena’s feet and kicked the back of my knees. “Kneel down and apologize to Serena!” “You hurt my mom! I’ll beat you to death!” Leo rushed over, slamming his heavy toy car repeatedly against my head. My freshly bandaged wound split open, and blood began to gush out again. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, struggling to crawl away. But someone kicked me hard from behind, and my stomach slammed heavily against the sharp edge of the marble stairs. A blinding, agonizing pain ripped through my body. I felt a warm, thick liquid trickling down my thighs. Looking at the pool of blood beneath me, tears finally spilled over. “My baby… Please, take me to the hospital…” I tried to stand up, but the world spun violently, and I plummeted into darkness. When I woke up again, the sharp smell of bleach and antiseptic filled my nose. Faint voices drifted over from the side of the bed. “Pregnant? Amnesia? What the hell does that mean?!” “Mr. Vance, to be precise, it is dissociative amnesia. It’s a defense mechanism her brain built to protect her from severe trauma.” The man’s voice was tight with suppressed fury. “We provided her with everything she needed! How could she get a mental illness like that?!” The doctor sighed heavily. “The patient’s body has scars from sharp weapons, blunt force trauma, and multiple healed bone fractures. These are classic signs of prolonged, severe physical abuse.” “Her body was pushed far beyond its limits. When her mind finally broke down, it chose to completely wipe out all those agonizing memories to keep her alive.” Julian fell silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was incredibly hoarse. “I will look into this…” “But the baby in her womb cannot stay. I am not raising another man’s bastard.” I opened my eyes in sheer terror, trying to scream, but my body wouldn’t obey. They wanted to kill my baby! Several medical staff approached, slowly pushing a syringe into my IV line. Julian stood beside me, his eyes rimmed with red. Using the absolute last ounce of my strength, I grabbed the edge of his jacket. “Please… don’t…” He reached out and covered my tear-filled eyes. Slowly, I slipped back into unconsciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Vance mansion. But I was strapped to a heavy metal chair, and a strange, cold device was strapped to my head. “Vivian, you’re awake.” Serena was kneeling in front of me, a sinister, triumphant smirk on her face. “Julian told me about your little amnesia.” “But don’t worry. We’re going to help you remember everything.” Touching my flat, empty stomach, I let out a gut-wrenching scream of despair. My baby was gone. Julian’s eyes were bloodshot. He knelt down beside me, kissing the tears on my cheeks. “The specialist said that after 99 electroshock sessions, your memory will return.” “Once you remember, I will personally destroy anyone who ever hurt you.” “As for that bastard child… I won’t hold it against you anymore.” My entire body shivered violently as I shook my head in terror. “No! Please! I really don’t know you! I beg of you…” “Start the machine,” Julian ordered coldly as he stood up. The switch was flipped. A massive jolt of electricity surged through my veins like liquid fire, exploding from my fingertips straight into my vital organs. Every muscle spasm felt like my bones were being crushed into powder. I screamed, my voice cracking into a raw, bloody shriek. Blood poured from my lips. My vision went dark, leaving nothing but an endless, tearing agony. And then, the dam in my mind finally burst. Silent tears streamed down my face. I whispered hoarsely, “I remember…” I remembered all eight years of pure, suffocating hell.

The first time I met Julian, I was working part-time as a singer at a high-end lounge. He claimed it was love at first sight. He rented out the entire venue for me. The path from the lounge to my college dorm was lined with thousands of red roses he had ordered. After that day, luxury gifts began piling up at my doorstep. He appeared in my life every single day, playing the perfect, attentive gentleman. I knew the massive gap between our social statuses, so I kept my distance. Until my gambling addict father sold me to an underground human trafficking ring. Julian had stormed into that dark basement alone, taking a dozen stab wounds to save me. That night, covered in blood, he carried me out of that hellhole step by step. “Vivian, you are my entire life.” “If you die, I won’t live another day.” Because of those words, I became his wife. Until Serena and his older brother, Marcus, returned from Europe. It was only then, from a casual slip of the tongue from his friends, that I found out Serena was his first love—the one that got away. After that day, Julian changed completely. All his attention shifted to Serena. The gifts meant for me were redirected to her. Just because Serena casually mentioned she didn’t want another woman ruling the Vance household, Julian forced me to sign divorce papers. She said she wanted a child but was too afraid of the pain of labor. So, the son I nearly died giving birth to was taken from my arms and handed to her. Whenever I screamed and demanded my baby back, Julian would threaten to cut off the life support for my terminally ill mother in the hospital. To pay for my mother’s medical bills, I became Serena’s dog. I washed her feet, endured her slaps, and accepted her verbal abuse. But the one time I couldn’t take it anymore and fought back, my mother was kicked out of the hospital into a heavy rainstorm. She died of a heart attack on the street, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. Desperate and heartbroken, I tried to run away with my son. But Julian caught me and forced me to take the fall for Serena’s crime. That night, I knelt in the pouring rain, begging him at his feet. “Julian, please! I can’t go to prison! What will happen to Leo if I go?!” But he only kept his umbrella tightly over Serena, shielding her from a single drop of rain. His voice was as cold as a winter blizzard. “Serena is too fragile for prison. Unlike you, you’ve always been tough.” “When you get out, we will compensate you.” On my very first day in that hellhole, inmates hired by Serena rubbed industrial bleach into my eyes. On the second day, I was pushed down the concrete stairs, breaking my arms and legs. On the third day, a group of corrupt guards let violent inmates into my cell… For three years, every single day was a living nightmare. On the day of my release, Julian sent his men to pick me up. But when I saw the faces of the men in the car—the very same men who had tortured me in prison—my mind snapped. I jumped out of the moving vehicle on the highway. I was hit by an oncoming truck, thrown over the guardrail of the bridge, and plunged into the icy river below. I slowly opened my eyes, the haze in my mind completely gone. Looking at the couple in front of me, the unfamiliarity was replaced by a deep, dark hatred that seeped into my very bones. Julian rushed forward, desperately wiping the blood from my lips. “How is it, Vivian? Do you remember now?” I glared at him, spitting out each word like venom. “I remember everything.” “You are my enemy. You murdered my mother, and you killed my baby.” Julian’s face drained of all color. He stumbled back a few steps, looking at the doctor in terror. “What’s wrong with my wife?!” Serena stepped forward, pulling out a long, horrifying syringe filled with a strange yellowish liquid. “Julian, it seems Vivian’s brain is still a bit scrambled.” “I know a back-alley clinic that deals with neuro-damage. One injection of this straight into her temple, and she’ll be perfectly obedient.” Looking at the terrifying needle, Julian hesitated. Just as he was about to speak, the maid knocked urgently on the door. “Sir! Tristan Carter is downstairs. He demands to see you immediately.” “What is he doing here?” Serena offered a sweet, reassuring smile. “He’s probably here to discuss the merger. Julian, go handle him. Leave Vivian to me.” Seeing her confident look, Julian nodded and hurried downstairs. The moment the heavy oak door shut, the sweet smile on Serena’s face vanished. She grabbed my jaw with manic force, her face twisting with pure malice. “Vivian, you miserable bitch! Why did you have to come back?!” She raised the long needle, pressing the cold tip against my temple. “I will destroy any woman who tries to take Julian from me. Go to hell!” The moment she leaned in, I gathered all my strength and kicked her hard in the stomach. I tore myself free from the leather straps and sprinted toward the door. “Tristan!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “444242”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

One month before our wedding, my fiancé, Julian Vance, took in a sweet, young college girl. He bought her an apartment, a car, and showered her with millions. He was being way more dramatic and high-profile than when he was chasing me. When my housekeeper, Maria, told me about it, I was picking out photos for our wedding album. My expression didn’t even flicker when I heard the news. “Got it.” She looked at me, completely frustrated. “Aren’t you even a little worried? Chloe Bennett looks even more like Helena than you do!” “If this keeps up, forget about the wedding—your entire position in this house is threatened!” Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed with a message from Julian on Snapchat: “Let’s put the wedding on hold for now. Chloe is young and too clingy.” “I’ll dump her in six months at most. If you’re worried, we can go sign our marriage license at the courthouse first.” I saved the last wedding photo to my album and replied: “No need. It’s just a fling anyway.” He always liked how sensible and low-maintenance I was. He replied with satisfaction: “Good girl.” Good girl? I smiled. I hoped he’d still think so when he attended my wedding with his uncle.

“You’re still laughing?” Maria stomped her foot in frustration. “I seriously don’t get what’s going through your head. Don’t you feel any sense of crisis?” Since I had lost my mother at a young age, I had treated Maria like my own mother ever since I started dating Julian. Looking at her worried face, my smile widened. “It’s fine. Julian was never planning on a proper wedding anyway.” Maria fell silent. Julian and I had set our wedding date three times now. The first time, I was the one begging him, throwing tantrums just to marry him. He reluctantly got engaged to me. But right before the wedding, he canceled it using a business trip as an excuse. The second time was also me. I faked being sick and played the victim, reminding him of his deceased first love, Helena. He reluctantly agreed again. But it didn’t take long for him to see through my act. This third time, he was the one who brought it up. I was thirty now, no longer in my prime. My face, which used to look so much like Helena’s, had started showing fine lines. He bought me a bunch of expensive skincare products and casually proposed. He probably wanted to capture photos of our wedding while I still bore some resemblance to her. Too bad that even though we had already taken the photos, Chloe Bennett suddenly showed up. She looked way more like Helena than I did. She had just graduated from college—youthful, vibrant. Especially her eyes; when she smiled, they looked exactly like Helena’s. It was entirely within my expectations that Julian would postpone the wedding for her. I just hadn’t expected him to be willing to sign the marriage license with me first. “Julian announced that the wedding is postponed for six months? How could he do this?!” Maria’s shout pulled me out of my thoughts. She held up her phone to my face in shock. Five minutes ago, Julian had posted on Instagram: “Due to work reasons, my wedding with Clara is postponed for six months. Sorry for the inconvenience, everyone.” I sneered in my heart. He claimed it was for work, but everyone in our circle knew the real reason. Within a month, he had spent nearly three million dollars on Chloe. He had also taken her to various high-profile events without hiding a thing. Rumors had been flying around our social circle that I was discarded. Some people were even betting on when I’d lose my mind and try to kill myself. After all, to marry Julian, I had threatened to jump off buildings a few times in the past. Maria looked at me with deep concern. “Clara, what are you going to do?” “Tell Julian to make sure they use protection,” I said calmly. “Chloe is still young. I’d hate for her to ruin her health.” Maria let out a heavy sigh. “I knew you were still bitter about what happened two years ago.” “Actually, maybe it was for the best that you didn’t have that baby. Your health was so bad back then, you probably wouldn’t have carried it to term anyway.” I didn’t argue. I just shook my head. “We’re even now.” She didn’t get what I meant. She just sighed again. “You… you’re just too sensible.” Just then, a message popped up on my phone from Arthur. A voice note played, his deep, amused voice filling the room: “The photos look great. You have amazing taste.” “I’ll announce our marriage in the family Snapchat group today.” Maria froze. Her mouth fell open, and it took her a long time to find her voice. “You… you know Julian’s uncle, Arthur?” She couldn’t believe the person Arthur was talking about was me. I had no intention of hiding it. “Yes, he’s my husband.” “We’ve already signed the papers.” Nobody knew. While Julian was busy chasing Chloe with all his might, I hadn’t been idle either. His uncle, Arthur Vance, looked far more like the man in my heart than Julian ever did. After clinging to Julian for all these years, I had almost forgotten my original purpose. If Chloe hadn’t suddenly appeared, I might have actually believed I was in love with Julian. Signing those papers with Arthur was indeed a bit impulsive. But today proved that I made the right choice.

Maria looked utterly shocked. “So when you were with Julian, you weren’t just a willing stand-in—you were using him as a stand-in too?” I gave a bitter smile. Stand-in or not, this wasn’t some cheesy soap opera. I just wanted to survive. Seven years ago, my fiancé, Leo Wood, died on our wedding day. My soul died with him that day. Now, only this empty shell remained, desperately needing something to hold onto. I told Maria to keep quiet about this and sent Arthur a reply: “If Julian makes a scene, please handle it.” “I’m already looking at houses. I’ll move out in a few days.” Maria’s face went pale. “Clara, are you just saying this because you’re disappointed in Julian?” “Trust me, I know him. You are the most important person to him. Chloe is just a temporary amusement!” I knew that. My seven years with Julian couldn’t be replaced by Chloe overnight. But he had found someone who looked more like Helena, and I had found someone who looked more like Leo. I looked down at my new lock screen. Arthur was in a tailored suit, his eyes cold and sharp, yet they softened into a smile when he looked at me. He looked exactly like Leo. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. If I waited any longer, I wouldn’t even recognize myself anymore. That evening, Julian came home unusually early. He smiled as soon as he walked in. “Do you remember my uncle Arthur? He suddenly announced in the family group that he’s getting married next month. He wouldn’t say who the bride is. Keeping it so mysterious.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is it the person we had dinner with last time?” “Yeah, him.” Maria opened her mouth several times but said nothing in the end, retreating to the kitchen to make dinner. Then, Julian suddenly ordered: “Maria, practice making some Mexican dishes over the next few days. Chloe is going to stay here for a while.” Before I could say anything, Maria couldn’t hold back. “Julian! How can you bring her here? Clara is still living here!” Julian frowned. “So what? There are plenty of rooms.” “Chloe just graduated. The house I bought her needs remodeling. She can’t just sleep on the street.” “You—” “Let her move in,” I interrupted Maria. “There are empty rooms upstairs. I’ll stay on the first floor. We won’t get in each other’s way.” Seeing how submissive I was as always, a flash of guilt crossed Julian’s eyes. “Clara, I know this is unfair to you.” “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely make her leave in six months.” “Sure.” I nodded smoothly and went into the kitchen to help Maria with dinner. Julian didn’t think much of it and immediately called his driver to pick up Chloe. That night, the three of us sat down for dinner. Seeing a table full of plain, boiled dishes, Chloe frowned deeply. “Julian, didn’t you tell the housekeeper that I like Mexican food?” “These dishes have no color, let alone flavor. How is anyone supposed to eat this?” Maria glanced over and clattered the plates in the sink on purpose. Julian patted Chloe’s head affectionately. “Just eat this for a few days. Clara has a sensitive stomach and can’t eat anything too spicy.” “I’ll have Maria cook separate meals for you later.” Chloe looked over at me. It was her first time looking at me closely. Our eyes met, and a look of “she’s nothing special” flashed across her face. She reluctantly put down her fork and pushed her plate forward. “Forget it. I won’t eat. I’ll just count it as a diet.” With that, she got up and walked over to the sofa to watch TV. Julian immediately chased after her. “How can you not eat? You’ll get a stomachache. Be good, just have a few bites.” Chloe glanced at me and crossed her arms. “She must have told the housekeeper to do this. If you didn’t want me to move in, you should have just said so.” Julian grabbed her hand and coaxed her humbly, “Clara wouldn’t do that. I just told Maria too late. It’s my fault.”

Chloe pouted. “I don’t care! That food is practically dog food. I’m not eating it!” Watching them, I felt like I was back to when Julian and I first met. Back then, because I wanted to accompany him in eating spicy food, I ended up in the ER with acute gastritis. His eyes had been red with panic. “Clara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know your stomach was this sensitive.” “Tomorrow—tomorrow I’ll eat bland food with you!” He kept his word. For the rest of our time together, he never touched a single spicy dish. I knew he was only good to me because of Helena. So I never dared to tell him that my stomach was ruined because of the heavy drinking after my fiancé died. I didn’t dare to be spoiled and demanding like Chloe. Because I was afraid. Afraid of losing someone who looked so much like Leo. “I’ll take you out to eat,” Julian continued to coax Chloe, helping her put on her high heels and pulling her up by the hand. As he passed the dining table, he said coldly to Maria, “Starting tomorrow, everyone eats spicy food. Including Clara.” Maria was shocked. “But Clara has chronic gastritis. If she has an attack…” “A little bit won’t hurt. Gastritis isn’t some terminal illness. She won’t die from it.” He grew impatient. “It’s settled. If you can’t cook it, I’ll find a housekeeper who can.” For the next few days, every meal in the house was heavy, spicy Mexican food. Julian had eaten bland food with me for years, so his stomach wasn’t used to such greasy, spicy food either. But to accommodate Chloe, his face flushed red from the spice, yet he never complained once. Maria tried to cook separate, bland meals for me a few times, but Chloe eventually found out. Her face darkened, and she dumped my food right in front of Julian. “What is this garbage? It makes me want to throw up!” “Julian, can you tell Maria to stop making this stuff? It totally ruins my appetite.” I frowned, meeting Julian’s slightly guilty gaze. He looked away. “Maria, don’t make separate meals for Clara anymore.” “Let her eat with us. It’s no big deal.” At his words, my expression finally turned cold. “I can’t eat spicy food.” “I’ve accommodated you for so many years. Can’t you accommodate someone else for once?” The guilt in Julian’s eyes vanished instantly. His gaze turned heavy and cold. “You didn’t say anything for the past few days, and I thought you were actually being sensible. Turns out it was all an act? Now you finally can’t hide it anymore?” “Chloe is only staying here for six months. Can’t you just bear with it for six months?” Right. The anger inside me slowly dissolved. Since I was leaving soon anyway, there was nothing worth arguing about. Without saying another word, I turned to head to my bedroom. But Chloe suddenly grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Someone has to keep me company when I eat!” This was just pure harassment. I yanked my hand back. “Chloe, I am not your servant.” “Ah!” As soon as the words left my mouth, she suddenly tumbled backward. With a loud crash, her lower back slammed hard against the chair. Blood quickly stained her dress. Everyone froze. I stared in shock, my fingers tightening as I stood there, speechless. Julian’s face went pale. He rushed to help her up, his voice trembling. “Chloe! Are you okay?” “Julian… why am I bleeding? Am I… am I pregnant?” Chloe looked utterly dazed and terrified. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she clutched Julian’s sleeve. “What do we do…” Julian suddenly snapped his head up to look at me, his face terrifyingly dark. “You pushed her! How can you be so vicious?” “If anything happens to the baby, I’m never letting this go!” “I didn’t even use force—” “Chloe, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” He didn’t wait for me to finish. He scooped Chloe up in his arms and ran out. The bloodstains left on the floor made my face turn pale. I had also lost a child once. In our second year together, I found out I was pregnant and started pushing for marriage. He kept making excuses. In the end, when he couldn’t stall anymore, he said coldly: “If you’re only forcing me to marry you because of this baby, then go get an abortion.”

Why? Why wasn’t Julian this frantic back then? Why could he coldly tell me to get an abortion back then? “It’s okay, Clara. Don’t… don’t cry.” Maria gently took my hand, her voice choked with tears. I mechanically reached up to wipe my face, only to realize my cheeks were already soaked with tears. “I saw it! Chloe fell on her own. It had nothing to do with you!” Maria said as she pulled out her phone to call Julian. “I’ll tell him right now!” “He won’t believe you.” I held Maria’s hand down, my voice hoarse. “We’re even. We’re completely even now.” Julian didn’t return all night. At dawn, I was still tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Thinking back to the absurd years I spent with him, I felt a deep sense of guilt toward Leo. He had given his life to protect me, and his only wish was for me to live a good life. But what was I doing? What on earth was I doing? Suddenly, my phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. I picked it up and saw a friend request on Snapchat from a girl with a cartoon avatar. After a moment of thought, I accepted. I clicked on her profile. Her pinned post was a side profile of Julian. Along with a photo of them holding hands. The caption was incredibly intimate: “Stay with me forever, okay?” It was Chloe. I didn’t message her. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, she couldn’t help herself. “You’re Clara, right?” “Julian is with me right now. He’s not coming home tonight.” I still didn’t reply, pretending I didn’t see it. She waited for a while before finally getting to the point: “I won’t hold the baby thing against you, but on one condition: you have to give Julian up to me.” “You know his heart only belongs to Helena. Now that I look more like her than you do, you have no advantage left.” “I don’t care what others say. I’m willing to be her stand-in.” Indeed, youth is always full of reckless passion, ready to dive in headfirst. Just like how I had risked everything when I first approached Julian. “You don’t need to ask. He’s already yours.” After replying, I blocked Chloe. The sky outside was gradually brightening. Before packing my things, I called Julian. I wanted to meet him one last time to clear everything up. After last night, I had completely let go. There was no longer any need to hide anything. Once we talked, I would start my life with Arthur. But I called him several times, and he didn’t pick up once. He was doing it on purpose. I put my phone down and stopped trying. Seeing me packing my luggage systematically, Maria paced back and forth in panic. After pacing for a while, she called Julian. This time, he picked up. But his voice was extremely impatient: “If you’re calling to talk about Clara, save your breath. I don’t want to hear anything about her right now.” “Chloe is still in the hospital. I’ll settle the score with Clara once she’s recovered!” “Julian, Clara is leaving. She’s packing her bags—” “Where could she possibly go? She has no parents, no friends. Aside from the Vance house, where else can she go?” Maria, interrupted, was sweating profusely with anxiety. “She’s going to find—” “I don’t care who she finds. Chloe is awake, I’m hanging up.” With that cold remark, the call went dead. Maria frantically tried to call back, but I smiled and spoke up: “Don’t disturb him, Maria. I’m leaving.” “If you ever need anything in the future, call me anytime.” I gave her a warm hug. Maria burst into tears. She watched me leave with my luggage, reluctant to say goodbye. For the next two weeks, Julian barely contacted me. Occasionally, he would send weird texts in the middle of the night: “Clara, where did you put my white shirts?” “We’re out of toothpaste. Which brand do you usually buy?” “I’m thinking of moving. If you’re never coming back, I won’t bother telling you the new address.” … I didn’t reply to a single message. And on his end, he finally received a call from his friend who ran a wedding planning agency. “Julian, what’s going on with you and Clara?” He frowned, his tone dark. “Even you know we had a fight?” “Did she go to your agency? Is she trying to force me into marriage again?” The voice on the other end hesitated. “She did come, but not to force you. In fact, she’s getting married…” Julian laughed, his tone completely indifferent. “Getting married? To whom? Is she trying to pick some random guy off the street to make me jealous?” “I’m not falling for that.” “Oh, come on!” His friend got anxious, his voice rising: “Her groom is your uncle, Arthur Vance! The scale is huge—they booked our entire grand ballroom!”

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When it was time to exchange rings at my wedding, my best friend suddenly walked up to the altar, wearing a wedding gown and sporting a bright smile. And my fiancé, Austin Harrison, slipped my wedding ring onto her ring finger right sin front of all the guests. With eyes welling with tears, I demanded an explanation. But the two of them looked at each other and actually burst out laughing. Hailey Bennett waved her hand, showing off the ring on her finger. “Chloe, Austin and I made a bet last night on who would win the World Cup final.” “He lost. So, according to our bet, I get to be the bride today.” Austin wrapped his arm around her waist, his tone completely relaxed. “It’s just letting Hailey be the bride for one day. We’ll host another wedding for us next month. Don’t be such a party pooper.” They always loved to use me as a betting chip. At our engagement party, he lost a bet, and my engagement ring ended up on Hailey’s finger first. When we took our wedding photos, he lost another bet, and ended up shooting the snowy-themed photoshoot—my absolute favorite—with Hailey instead of me. Even the master bedroom of our new house was decorated exactly the way Hailey liked it, all because of a lost bet. Every time I felt hurt and cried, they would smile and say, “It’s just a bet. Why are you taking it so seriously?” But it wasn’t until today that I finally understood. In their eyes, my wedding, my love, and my entire life were nothing but cheap chips they could toss onto their gambling table whenever they pleased. I looked at Austin. The pain in my chest finally cleared, replaced by an absolute, icy calm. “If you want to give her the wedding, you can go with her too.”

After saying that, I turned around to leave. But Austin grabbed my wrist tightly. “Chloe Miller, that’s enough.” “All of our family, friends, and business partners are here. Do you really have to embarrass everyone and make a scene?” I yanked my hand out of his grip. “Am I the one making a scene?” “Today was supposed to be my wedding!” Austin frowned, his voice dripping with impatience. “I already told you, it’s just for Hailey to experience it for one day.” “Once the wedding is over, nothing changes between us.” “Are you seriously going to break up with me over a stupid ceremony?” He paused, as if remembering something, and let out a scoff. “You said the exact same thing last month—that you were done with us.” “But didn’t you end up buying Hailey’s birthday cake yourself a few days later?” Hailey laughed along. “Chloe, every time you lose your temper, you threaten to cut us off.” “But in three days max, you always come crawling back to us.” She twirled the wedding ring on her finger, her smile filled with mock playfulness. “This time, I bet it’ll only take two days.” “Austin, do you want to bet on this?” Austin looked down at her. “What’s the wager?” “Let’s bet on how long it takes for Chloe to come back to us.” “If she begs for your forgiveness within two days, you have to give me the custom vanity set in the master bedroom.” Austin didn’t hesitate for a single second. “Deal.” “Actually, she won’t even last a day.” Right in front of my face, the two of them started placing another bet on me. It was as if the breakup I had just declared was nothing more than a new, amusing game designed for their entertainment. I stared at Austin. “Are you really that confident that I’ll come back?” Austin’s voice was dead calm. “We’ve been together for six years.” “You spent an entire year planning this wedding just to marry me.” “You personally booked the venue, chose the dress, and managed the guest list.” “Chloe, do you really have the guts to leave me?” He knew the old me too well. That was why he dared to step over my boundaries again and again. Because no matter who won or lost, I was always the one who cleaned up the mess in the end. When Hailey ruined my engagement dress, I was the one who quietly ordered a replacement. When she tore up my photos with Austin, I was the one who said it was fine. Even when she redecorated our new home into her favorite style, I was the one who ended up apologizing to Austin, saying I shouldn’t have argued with them over interior design. It wasn’t that they didn’t know I would be hurt. They were just absolutely sure I would never leave. From the guest tables below, one of Austin’s friends, Liam, called out with a chuckle: “Come on, Chloe, don’t take it so seriously.” “Austin and Hailey have always been like this. They’re just goofing around.” “Besides, Hailey is a proud independent woman who’s never getting married anyway.” “Letting her experience a wedding is just a nice way to check it off her bucket list.” “Calling off the wedding over something so trivial makes you look really petty.” One voice after another. Everyone was telling me to be the bigger person. But not a single person asked me if I was willing to give away my own wedding. Austin’s mother, Victoria, walked up to the stage from the VIP table. She took Hailey’s hand, her eyes filled with nothing but warm approval. “You know, this ring actually looks much better on Hailey than it does on Chloe.” Hailey smiled coyly, leaning into her. “Mrs. Harrison, please don’t say that.” “Chloe will be sad if she hears you.” Victoria shot me a cold, dismissive glance. “She’s about to marry into the Harrison family. If she can’t even handle a little joke like this, how is she going to survive as our daughter-in-law?” Then, she patted Hailey’s hand gently. “Honestly, I’ve always liked you more, Hailey.” “You’re lively and you know how to make people happy.” “Unlike some people who always have to argue about who’s right or wrong, ruining the mood over every little thing.” Austin’s father, Richard, also walked over with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Since Austin lost the bet, he has to honor it. A man must keep his word.” “We can just throw another wedding for Chloe next month. It’s no big deal.” I looked at him. “In your eyes, a wedding is something that can just be casually redone?” Richard’s face darkened with displeasure. “It’s just a ceremony.” “As long as Austin is still marrying you in the end, what more do you want?” “And to be completely honest with you.” “If Hailey weren’t against the idea of marriage, we would have much preferred Austin to marry her.”

The entire banquet hall fell dead silent. Austin finally noticed the icy expression on my face. Frowning, he interrupted his father. “Dad, why are you bringing this up today?” Then, he turned to me. “My parents just like Hailey’s outgoing personality.” “Don’t take everything so personally.” I suddenly laughed. Any words that cut me to the bone could always be brushed off as “just a joke.” Hailey clung tighter to Austin’s arm. “Alright, let’s not fight because of me.” “Chloe, since you already said you’re giving the wedding to me, just let me finish the rest of the ceremony.” She looked at my wedding gown, her eyes curving into sweet crescents. “After all, you get to have another wedding next month anyway.” I didn’t argue with her. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed the event coordinator. “The bride for today’s wedding has been changed at the last minute.” “I refuse to pay the remaining balance.” The phone went quiet for a few seconds. The coordinator asked hesitantly, “Miss Miller, didn’t you know?” “A month ago, Mr. Harrison came in with Miss Bennett to modify the contract.” “The bride’s name on the contract was changed to Hailey Bennett a long time ago.” My hand gripping the phone suddenly tightened. “A month ago?” “Yes.” “Miss Bennett also personally re-confirmed the menu and the stage setup.” “Mr. Harrison told us that all the changes were made with your full consent.” I raised my head to look at the two people standing on the stage. So, this so-called “bet on the World Cup” from last night… They had already planned this an entire month ago. Suppressing my trembling voice, I continued, “What about the remaining balance?” The coordinator replied, “It was fully paid off last night.” “Mr. Harrison authorized a payment of $95,000 from your joint wedding account.” I quickly opened my banking app. The balance of our joint account was exactly $3.70. That $95,000 was my entire life savings from five years of grueling work. I had planned to use the remaining money after the wedding to open my own interior design studio. Seeing my phone screen, Austin finally walked down from the stage. “The money is already paid. Even if you cancel now, the venue won’t give you a refund.” I stared at him, my eyes burning. “What gave you the right to touch my money without my permission?” Austin replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “That money was meant for the wedding anyway.” “The wedding is still happening today, so the money didn’t go to waste.” Hailey cozied up next to him, gently showing off the ring. “Chloe, didn’t you just say you were giving the wedding to me?” “Since you gave it to me, of course that includes the expenses.” Looking at them playing their tag-team game, my anger suddenly vanished. They didn’t just use my wedding as a toy. They stole my savings. All so Hailey could have a grand, luxurious wedding with my fiancé using my hard-earned money.

The moment I stepped off the stage, my mother pushed through the crowd and grabbed my hand. “Chloe, sweetheart, what is going on?” My parents were seated at the very back of the hall, right next to the exit doors. They were the only two guests from my side of the family. My relatives from our small hometown had all wanted to fly in, but Victoria had complained that they were “clueless about etiquette” and would embarrass the Harrison family. Austin had also told me, “We can just host a cheap dinner back in your hometown later. Don’t invite too many people here.” So, my parents had taken a grueling twelve-hour Greyhound bus ride alone just to attend their daughter’s wedding. My mother’s dress was slightly ill-fitting; she had tailored the waist herself with a needle and thread. The “Father of the Bride” boutonniere on my father’s chest had been crushed in the crowd, but he still refused to take it off. Now, they had to watch Hailey wearing my wedding dress and my ring. My father walked right up to Austin. “Take that ring off her finger, and apologize to my daughter.” Austin’s face darkened. “Mr. Miller, it’s just a harmless bet.” “Hailey is just filling in for the ceremony today. I’m still going to sign the marriage license with Chloe after this.” My father froze for a second. “You’re having a wedding with her, but you want my daughter to just sign papers?” “What does that make my daughter?” Austin frowned. “We’ve always played games like this. Chloe never used to care.” My mother was trembling with rage. “Just because she didn’t complain, you think you can walk all over her?” In her anger, her small-town accent slipped out, and her voice grew louder. Victoria immediately raised her chin, her face cold. “Please, watch your volume.” “This isn’t your quiet little trailer park.” “The people here today are all elite clients of the Harrison family. Are you trying to make us a laughingstock with your screaming?” Whispers erupted from the surrounding tables. “No manners at all. Typical small-town folks.” My mother’s face flushed a deep, painful red. She had only wanted to stand up for her daughter, but now she shrank back, nervously clutching her fingers, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not trying to make a scene.” “I just… I just hurt for my daughter.” A sharp pang of sorrow hit my chest. She had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet she felt forced to apologize to the very people who were humiliating her. Austin interrupted impatiently. “Let’s just let Hailey have this wedding today.” “Next month, I’ll go to your hometown and host a nice dinner.” “All of your relatives can come. I think that’s more than fair to Chloe.” My father slowly raised his head. “You give this hundred-thousand-dollar wedding to her…” “…and then you want to brush my daughter off with a cheap dinner in some small town?” Austin’s expression turned ugly. “I already promised to throw another dinner. What more do you want?” Hailey finally sashayed over, holding up her dress, and reached out to hold my mother’s hand with fake warmth. “Mrs. Miller, does it really matter where the wedding is held?” “It wasn’t easy for you and Mr. Miller to travel all this way.” She pointed to the party favors stacked in the corner. “Why don’t you take a few extra boxes of chocolates back home to share with your neighbors? At least you won’t leave empty-handed.” My mother flinched and pulled her hand back as if she had been burned. My father ripped the red boutonniere off his chest and slammed it onto the table. “Our family might not be rich.” “But we are not so poor that we would trade our daughter’s dignity for a few boxes of chocolates!” Hailey’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “Mr. Miller, I was just trying to be nice.” Austin immediately stepped in front of her to shield her. “That’s enough!” “Hailey is trying to accommodate you, and you’re being completely ungrateful.” My father stared at him quietly. “When you got down on your knees in front of us, you swore you would never let Chloe suffer a single day of unhappiness.” Austin avoided his gaze. My father didn’t ask anything else. He turned to wipe the tears from my face, his voice suddenly sounding ten years older. “Chloe, I was wrong about him.” “We are not doing this. Let’s go home.” My tears finally spilled over. The entire room of wealthy guests was pressuring me to endure this humiliation. Only my parents, who had just been deeply insulted, stood firmly in front of me. I pulled off my bridal veil and took each of their hands. “Okay.” “Let’s go home.” Behind us, Austin let out a cold laugh. “Since she wants to walk out so badly, let’s make another bet.” Hailey’s eyes lit up instantly. “I bet Chloe won’t last three days before she brings her parents back to apologize to us.” Austin stared at my retreating back, his voice filled with absolute certainty. “It won’t even take three days.” “She’ll crawl back this afternoon, begging me to sign the marriage license.” Hailey giggled. “And the wager?” “If she doesn’t apologize to me by tonight, the penthouse downtown is yours.” “Deal.” Their laughter echoed from behind us. Even at this very moment, they still viewed my dignity as a pathetic little game. I didn’t look back. As we walked out of the hotel lobby, my father asked softly, “Chloe, sweetheart… do you regret it?” I caught sight of the welcome sign at the entrance, which proudly displayed the names: Austin Harrison & Hailey Bennett. I squeezed my parents’ hands tightly. “I only regret not seeing through them sooner.” But I wasn’t just going to walk away. I was going to leave Austin a grand parting gift. Since he loved betting so much, I wanted to see if he could actually afford to lose this time.

At 3:00 PM, a notification popped up on my phone. 【Reminder: Your appointment to register your marriage license is scheduled for today at 4:20 PM. Please arrive on time with your IDs.】 Right after, Austin sent a screenshot of the appointment on Snapchat. “I’m throwing you a bone here.” “Be at City Hall by 4:00 PM. I’ll overlook the stunt you pulled today, and we can still sign the papers.” Austin then sent a voice note. “But before we sign, you have to apologize to my parents.” “And to Hailey.” “She cried for a long time today because of how you and your dad treated her.” “As long as you sincerely apologize, we can put this behind us.” I calmly typed back two words. “Sure, see you there.” The Snapchat group chat went quiet for a few seconds. Then, Austin tagged Hailey. “I won.” Hailey sent a pouting emoji. “Ugh, fine. A bet’s a bet.” “But when you guys go on your honeymoon, I’m tagging along.” Austin immediately sent a screenshot of an added flight ticket. “Already bought your ticket.” It turned out that even the honeymoon I had looked forward to for months was just another prize on their betting table. At 4:15 PM, I arrived at City Hall. Austin was waiting near the entrance of the registry office. When he saw me, the tension on his face finally melted into a smug smile. “I knew you’d come back.” “My parents and Hailey are waiting at the restaurant.” “Once we sign the papers, I’ll take you there to apologize.” He held out his hand. “Give me your ID.” I didn’t move. The next second, two police officers stepped out from behind me. “Mr. Austin Harrison?” “We received a report of grand larceny. You are accused of unauthorized access to another person’s bank account and stealing $95,000.” The smug smile on Austin’s face instantly froze. “Stealing? What are you talking about?” “That’s our joint wedding fund!” I pulled out my bank statements and the modified hotel contract. “The account is solely under my name, and every single dollar in it came from my personal income.” “You stole my password while I was asleep and forged my authorization to pay the venue.” “I have already handed over the hotel’s security footage, the transaction records, and our chat history to the police.” The officers stepped forward and handcuffed his wrists. Austin finally panicked. “Chloe Miller, didn’t you come here to sign our marriage license?!” I looked at him and smiled gently. “No. I came to watch you get arrested.”

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On the day of my wedding to William Thompson, Silicon Valley’s golden boy, his college classmate Grace Young got into a car crash. He was about to throw down his wedding band and run out when I grabbed his hand, hard. I leaned in and whispered that if he walked out that door, my family would instantly pull our venture capital funding from his tech startup. If we finished the ceremony today, the funding would go through. If he dared to leave, I would have him kicked out of his CEO seat by tomorrow morning. With a face of pure ice, he forced himself to stand by my side and finish the ceremony. But right after, news came from the hospital—Grace hadn’t survived. William didn’t say a single word. Three months later, he took me to a private charity gala at a vineyard in Napa Valley. The moment I turned my back, he drugged my champagne and handed me over to his corrupt business partner, Mark Vance. Mark took compromising photos and videos of me and sent them straight to William. William just sat on the plush leather sofa in the VIP lounge, laughing. “She’s the one who forced me to marry her,” he sneered. “This is her karma.” “Call the press. Tell them she cheated on me, got blackmailed, and died in a tragic accident.” As my consciousness faded, the brutal truth finally hit me. William hated me. He blamed me for taking away his chance to save his precious Grace. When I opened my eyes again, William was holding the diamond wedding band, about to slide it onto my finger. I smiled. I turned my head, pulled out my phone, and called Arthur Blackwood. I asked him if he wanted to be my groom instead. …

“By the power vested in me, the groom may now kiss the bride…” The priest’s voice was still echoing in my ears, but William’s expression had turned incredibly strange. “Grace got into a car accident…” he muttered. He hadn’t even picked up the phone that was buzzing in his pocket yet. He just “knew” she was in trouble. Looking at the raw panic in his eyes, my heart felt like it had been plunged into freezing water. The memories of my past life rushed back like a tidal wave. The terrifying helplessness of being drugged. The rough, disgusting hands of Mark Vance tearing at my bridal gown. William’s face as he sat on the sofa, laughing and saying I “deserved it.” The humiliating video, and the bone-chilling wind as I fell from the vineyard balcony. William’s hands trembled as he finally answered the call. “Grace, hold on. I’m coming. I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, William shook off my hand—the hand that was supposed to receive the ring. “Ann, Grace is in trouble. I have to go to her right now. Be reasonable. This is a matter of life and death.” I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. Hard. The sharp smack echoed through the grand cathedral. The guests instantly fell dead silent. He cupped his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Ann, what the hell is wrong with you?” Seeing the disgust and self-righteousness in his eyes, I knew. He had regressed, too. Just like me. “You’re right,” I said, my voice dead calm. “I’m not going to make a scene.” I slowly took off my own engagement ring. In front of hundreds of high-society guests, I tossed it directly into the nearby champagne tower. The crystal glasses clinked and shattered. “The wedding is off. Get the hell out.” The crowd erupted into whispers. William stood frozen, then knitted his brows, looking at me like I was just throwing a childish tantrum. “Ann, don’t play games right now. Grace is waiting for me at the ER. I’ll explain everything when I get back.” He turned to leave. I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “No need to explain. If you walk out, you walk out. But let’s make one thing clear to everyone here—you are walking out on me. I didn’t kick you out.” Without even looking back, he threw a loud statement to the crowd: “Ann wants to cancel the wedding. I respect her decision.” Then, he rushed out of the cathedral. His parents’ faces turned instantly green. They swarmed me, shouting accusations. “Ann! William left to save a life! How can you be so incredibly selfish?” “You’re throwing a fit like this before you’re even officially married? How are the two of you supposed to build a life together?” My parents instantly flared up, stepping forward to defend me. I held my dad’s arm and shook my head, signaling him to stop. William’s parents took my silence as submission. “Figure it out yourselves,” his father huffed, leading their guests toward the exit. The massive venue emptied out by half in minutes. The remaining guests were whispering and pointing at me. My dad was shaking with rage, wanting to chase them down for an explanation. I held him back, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a very long time. “Arthur,” I said when the line connected. “When you said you wanted to marry me last time… did you mean it?” “As long as I’m breathing, Ann. Always.” “I’m short of a groom at my wedding right now. How fast can you get here?” “Fifteen minutes.” I hung up, looking up at my shocked parents, and then down at the wedding ring resting at the bottom of a champagne glass.

While waiting, I whispered to my dad, telling him to immediately gather all the evidence of William embezzling company funds. “Once you have it, email it directly to the Board of Directors and the SEC,” I instructed. Since he wanted to save his darling Grace so badly, he could pay for it with his CEO title. Arthur arrived even faster than promised. He was wearing a bespoke black suit, with a light dusting of snow on his shoulders. The moment he stepped through the heavy oak doors, every eye in the room locked onto him. He walked straight to me and handed me a black velvet box with his long, elegant fingers. “I happen to carry a ring with me. The size should be perfect.” I took the box and opened it. The ring inside was exactly my style, and when I slid it on, it fit perfectly. “Are you sure about this, Arthur? If you marry me, you and William will be sworn enemies in the business world.” He took my hand without a second thought. His voice was deep, warm, and steady. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.” The priest recovered quickly, clearing his throat and announcing that the ceremony would proceed. The remaining guests went from shocked murmurs to stunned silence, which quickly erupted into thunderous applause. As Arthur and I exchanged rings, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, feather-light kiss against my lips. “Ann, from this day on, I’ll protect you.” Feeling the warmth of his palm, the anxiety that had gripped my chest for two lifetimes finally dissolved. The moment the ceremony ended, my phone vibrated like crazy. It was a text from William on SnapChat. [Ann, I know you’re just doing this to get back at me. Hiring an actor to play your groom? Really?] [Apologize to me right now, and I might consider coming back to finish the wedding later tonight.] I figured his assistant, who had stayed behind, must have sent him photos of me and Arthur. I didn’t reply. I just locked my screen. A second later, my phone rang. It was him. His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Ann, you really are desperate to get me back, aren’t you? Hiring some random guy to play a role? You think this is funny?” Before I could speak, Grace’s weak, trembling voice came through the receiver in the background. “William, don’t blame Ann. She probably just loves you too much. She acted on impulse…” “Oh, by the way, I just asked the nurse… she said the brake lines on my car looked really strange, like someone tampered with them…” William’s fury instantly boiled over the line. I could practically feel his rage through the screen. “Ann! Was it you? Are you so jealous of Grace that you tried to murder her?!” Hearing this utterly ridiculous accusation, I laughed out loud. “I don’t have the time or the interest to touch her cheap car, William. Believe what you want.” “Stop lying! Why would Grace accuse you if it wasn’t true?” He was completely deaf to reason. I didn’t want to waste my breath, so I hung up and blocked his number on everything. Right after I blocked him, a text from an unknown number popped up. [If you want my forgiveness, come to the hospital, get on your knees, and apologize to Grace. And you’re going to sign over your corneas to her. She might go blind.] [Do it, or I’m calling the police and throwing you in federal prison.] I stared at the text, then slid my phone over to Arthur. Arthur glanced at the screen, and his eyes instantly turned predatory and cold. “Do you want me to handle this?” I shook my head, raising my glass of champagne to clink against his. “No. I want to ruin him myself.”

That evening, Arthur drove me back to my estate. The moment we pulled into the driveway, we saw William blocking the gates. He still smelled of hospital disinfectant, and his eyes were bloodshot. Seeing me get out of Arthur’s SUV, he charged at me, reaching out to grab my arm. Arthur stepped in front of me like a wall, catching William’s wrist and twisting it slightly. William groaned in pain. “Ann! You’re actually serious about this guy?” He ripped his hand away from Arthur, glaring at me with disbelief. I leaned against the car door, looking at his indignant face. It was pathetic. “Of course I am. Did you honestly think my world revolved around you?” “And let me make this clear—whatever happened to Grace’s eyes has nothing to do with me. Stop pointing fingers.” William’s face turned purple. He pointed at me, shaking. “Who else could it be? Who else hates Grace? I’m telling you, Ann, you’re going to pay for her medical treatment, or I’ll destroy you!” He pulled out his phone, threatening to call the cops. “I have security footage of you near her car. If you don’t comply, I’m sending you to jail.” I didn’t feel like playing his games. I unlocked my phone and dialed 911 myself. “Yes, officer? I’d like to report a stalker trespassing on my private property and harassing me. Please send a patrol car.” William gasped, stunned by my move, then let out a cold laugh. “Good. Let the cops come. Let’s see who they arrest.” The police arrived within minutes. William rushed over to them immediately, shoving a flash drive into the deputy’s hand. “Officer, I want to report a felony. This woman cut the brakes on my friend’s car, causing an accident that might leave her blind. The evidence is right here.” The deputy took the flash drive and looked at me. I pulled out a tablet from my bag, showing the security logs of my company’s office from that day, along with signed affidavits from my executive team. “This is my alibi. I was in a board meeting all day. The video he has is a deepfake. I welcome a forensic audit.” The deputy carefully reviewed my documents, made a quick call to verify the security company’s logs, and turned to William with a stern look. “Mr. Thompson, this footage you provided has clear signs of digital manipulation. Filing a false police report is a serious crime.” William’s face drained of color. “That’s impossible! Her alibi must be forged!” “She wanted to kill Grace! She’s capable of anything!” I didn’t want to watch his manic episode anymore. I nodded politely to the officers. “Thank you, officers. I will be pressing charges for harassment and defamation.” Even after the police ordered him to leave the perimeter, William lingered near the edge of the street, staring at me with venomous eyes. “Ann, I know you remember,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I know you regressed too. I know I wronged you in the past life, but Grace is innocent.” “Give her the medical settlement. If you do, I’ll take the fall for the embezzlement charges. I won’t drag your father, David, into this. Deal?” Hearing him twist the truth so effortlessly, I laughed in his face. “I already sent the embezzlement files to the SEC, William. You should worry about your own skin.” William’s face went completely white. Before he could speak, his phone rang. He picked it up. Within seconds, his hands were shaking so hard he almost dropped the device.

William stood frozen like a statue. His assistant was screaming through the speaker, but William’s hands were trembling so violently he couldn’t even speak. “Impossible… I wiped all the digital footprints…” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with madness and pure, unadulterated hatred. “You! Ann, you set me up!” He lunged at me again. Arthur stepped in, delivering a brutal kick straight to William’s stomach. William stumbled back and fell hard onto the snow-covered driveway, looking utterly pathetic. “You embezzled the money yourself, William. Don’t blame me for your own greed,” I said, walking up to him and looking down at his miserable state. “When you threw me to your business partner in our past life, did you ever stop to think about this day?” William’s pupils dilated. The remaining color drained from his face. “You… you really did come back…” Suddenly, he started laughing. It was a manic, hysterical laugh that brought tears to his eyes. “Fine. Great. Just you wait, Ann. This isn’t over.” He scrambled to his feet and stumbled away into the dark, leaving his buzzing phone on the ground. I picked it up. The screen was lit up with a text from Grace on SnapChat. [William, the doctor said without a transplant, I’ll never see again. I’m so scared.] [Please don’t blame Ann. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have been in your life.] I stared at the screen, took a screenshot of the text, and tossed the phone into the trash can. Arthur walked over, draping his wool coat over my shoulders. “Are you cold? Let’s go inside.” I shook my head, pulling out my own phone to text my PR director. “Release the files on William’s embezzlement and his arrest warrant for filing a false police report. Make it trend.” Within ten minutes, the internet exploded. TechFounderEmbezzlement trends. WilliamThompsonHarassesEx trends. I scrolled through the comments on Ins, watching the internet turn on him, calling him the ultimate trash. I couldn’t help but smirk. The next morning, my dad called me, his voice tight with anxiety. “Ann, look at the stock market. William just hosted a live stream. He’s claiming I forced him to embezzle the funds, and he’s showing fake wire transfers to our family accounts!” My heart sank. I checked the market. Our family company’s stock was tanking, dropping fast. Another hashtag was trending: DavidMartinezEmbezzlement. Arthur frowned beside me, pulling out his phone to make some calls, but I stopped him. “Don’t worry. I was waiting for him to make this move.” I opened William’s live stream on YouTube. He was dressed in a sleek suit, looking perfectly remorseful, crying to the camera. “I was young and stupid. David Martinez coerced me into doing it. All the money went into their offshore accounts. I am willing to cooperate with the feds. I just want to do the right thing.” Grace was sitting next to him, her eyes bandaged, bowing slightly to the camera in a frail voice. “I know people might not believe us, but William is a good man. He was forced. Please don’t hate him.” Watching their little performance, I sneered and made a quick call to our legal contact at the SEC. After hanging up, I waved a flash drive in front of Arthur. “This contains the real paper trail of William and Grace moving the funds to their own accounts, along with audio recordings of them planning to drain my family’s company six months ago.” Arthur raised an eyebrow, a proud smile playing on his lips as he ruffled my hair. “You’re always three steps ahead, aren’t you?” I smiled back. But before I could speak, the front doorbell rang. I opened it to find two federal agents standing there, badges in hand. “Ann Martinez? We’re with the SEC. We have a warrant to bring you in for questioning regarding your father’s alleged financial fraud.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “444239”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster