My two children’s last wish before they died was for our family of four to see the ocean. But the day before we left, their father vanished. My children passed away with that regret. I later saw a photo of him and his childhood friend, Kate, on Kate’s social media. The caption read: “A special birthday, with a special someone.” I turned around, packed my bags, and left. Then, Jensen came crying, begging me to stay. 1 Jensen loathed me. And by extension, he disliked the two children I bore him. All it took was a single phone call from his childhood friend, Kate, and he’d travel thousands of miles. But I had begged on my knees, my forehead bruised and bleeding. Still, he wouldn’t return to see our children one last time. I returned home, utterly exhausted. The house was brightly lit. I pushed open the door, a flicker of hope in my chest. I expected to see my two children running to greet me. Instead, I saw Jensen pressed against the sofa by Kate, intimate and oblivious. My hope dissolved, replaced by instant disappointment. Jensen looked momentarily flustered at my appearance, pushing Kate away. Ha. I sneered. My children’s bodies weren’t even cold yet. Jensen, who had been missing for half a month, had returned. And he was so eager to bring another woman home. Jensen had already braced himself for a scene, expecting me to throw a fit. But I showed no expression, not even bothering to glance at either of them. I went upstairs to retrieve my packed luggage. I had planned to leave early that morning. After all, this house was a wedding gift from Jensen’s grandfather for us, but Jensen rarely set foot in it. Mostly, it had been just me and our two children living here. I quickly came back downstairs. They were still talking on the sofa. The man who was usually expressionless now wore a tender look. It was only with Kate that he softened this way. With me, there was only endless indifference. They hadn’t noticed me. With Kate around, I was always invisible to Jensen. I had grown accustomed to it. The sound of my suitcase wheels caught Jensen’s attention. He watched me, his voice stiff. “Summer Jiang, what kind of drama is this now?” Kate looked over, a smirk playing on her lips. “Summer, darling, my blood sugar dropped, and I was just in the neighborhood. Jensen said it was convenient here, so he brought me. You don’t mind, do you?” Low blood sugar? I watched Jensen pouring tea, fetching water, and even peeling a candy to feed it into her mouth himself. Her lips brushed his fingertips, neither of them seeming to notice anything amiss. I lowered my eyes, remembering a family dinner when I’d forgotten to use a serving spoon to dish food for him. He’d simply dropped his chopsticks and refused to eat. Thinking of it now, I found it laughable. Love and indifference were starkly clear. I spoke, my voice raw with bitterness. “Let’s break up, Jensen.” 2 Even though we had once shared two children and a half-finished wedding, we hadn’t legally married, so it wasn’t technically a divorce. Jensen, assuming I was merely being jealous of Kate, dismissed it with a wave. “Still using these old tricks? Aren’t you tired?” “You know you can’t threaten me with your kids anymore, so now you’re trying to leverage our engagement?” Because of extreme emotional fluctuations during pregnancy, our twin boy and girl were born with illnesses. Two years ago, our son was diagnosed with ALS, and a year ago, our daughter was diagnosed with polio. The hospital issued one critical condition notice after another. I signed them until my hand went numb. But my children were so well-behaved, so considerate; they never cried out in pain in front of me and would even try to comfort me. They envied other children who had fathers. They called Jensen constantly, just hoping their dad would spend time with them too. But Jensen… he never came, not once. It turned out he thought I was using our children to gain sympathy and keep him tied down. I found it utterly absurd and laughable. We had known each other for over a decade; how could he possibly think that of me? I wiped away my tears, unwilling to argue with him. “Think what you want. I’m leaving.” Kate spoke up, her voice laced with feigned innocence, “Jensen, honey, I heard you were planning to take the kids to see the ocean. Did you perhaps miss your date to celebrate my birthday, and now Summer is upset…?” Jensen’s voice was soft. “How can I blame you? We can go to the ocean any day, but a birthday only comes once a year.” At his words, I sneered. Ignoring them, I walked towards the door. Jensen, sensing something was truly amiss, stepped forward and blocked me, his anger rising. “Running away from home over such a trivial matter?” He noticed my haggard, gaunt face and paused. “You’ve lost so much weight?” Perhaps from recent insomnia, my head felt swimmy. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes. “I’ll have my assistant clear my schedule for next week. We’ll take the kids to see the ocean, alright?” Next week? Leo and Luna wouldn’t have a next week! If he’d only shown a fraction of the thought he gave Kate to his own children, he wouldn’t utter such a foolish remark! I slapped his outstretched hand away. “No need.” Jensen looked at the faint red mark on the back of his hand, startled. He couldn’t believe that the person who used to cling to him now avoided him like the plague. Snapping out of his daze, he tried to follow, but Kate held him back. “Oh, Jensen, it’s all my fault. Even though I knew the kids were faking their illness, I insisted on you spending my birthday with me. Now Summer is angry with me. I really shouldn’t have.” Faking… faking illness? My mind went blank. By the time I regained my senses, I had already slapped Kate. 3 Jensen’s face, which had held a trace of guilt, instantly hardened. He shielded Kate behind him, watching me warily. “Summer Jiang, Kate has depression, and you still dare to hit her? Are you insane?” I ignored his reprimand, my gaze fixed on Kate. “You’d better watch your mouth, or I’ll hit you again.” Kate whimpered, sounding wronged. “Summer, darling, faking illness really isn’t right. Is this how you raise your children? No wonder Jensen says you’ve ruined them… I, I won’t say anything else.” I lunged to slap her again, but she darted behind Jensen. I looked at Jensen. “Do you also think Leo and Luna were faking?” He remained silent. I looked around the house, seeing no sign of the children. He asked, with a dismissive air, “Where have you dragged them off to now?” He truly didn’t believe me. If only he had come home, he would have seen the table covered with the children’s medications and medical records. But he hadn’t come home, not once. I remembered how, after learning they didn’t have much time left, my children had wanted our family to be together, to see the legendary ocean. I had pleaded with Jensen, even kneeling and bumping my head on the floor. In the end, I had clung to his trousers, promising him that this one time, I wouldn’t bother him again. I would set him free. At the time, he had paused, looking down at me from above. His eyes held both joy and a strange complexity. “Is that true?” “Yes,” I slowly closed my eyes, tears streaming down. My grandfather had saved his grandfather’s life, so we were betrothed since childhood. When I came of age, my grandfather asked if I still wished to marry Jensen. I nodded, saying yes. Because from a young age, I had loved this legendary prodigy, this unattainable figure. My grandfather arranged the wedding. It was my affirmation that forced him to watch Kate leave the country. On our wedding day, he ran away for Kate. I became the laughingstock of the city. Jensen’s grandfather was so enraged he ended up in the hospital, then forced Jensen to apologize to me and register our marriage. He dodged it. Turning around, he warned me, “This is all you’re getting. I won’t marry you legally.” “I won’t let Kate be ‘the other woman.’” Neither the position of his wife nor his unconditional love. He reserved it all for Kate. Kate, because of me and the children, had delayed accepting Jensen’s proposal. I was willing to give him up. Why wouldn’t he spend one last time with his children? He didn’t have to like me, but they were his children too. How could he be so heartless towards Leo and Luna? I gave Jensen a look of profound disappointment. I used to think his features were like a painting; now, I found them repulsive. Jensen was about to say something, but Kate interrupted him with a whiny complaint. “My face hurts so much. Is it swollen, Jensen?” 4 Jensen’s attention immediately snapped back to her. Kate leaned into his embrace. The slap I’d given her with all my might had left a clear, red handprint on her pale face. Kate was now shedding tears, and Jensen’s heart ached for her. He gently brushed away her tears with his fingertips. When we were kids, he used to be quite kind to me. If I fell, he’d help me up and wipe away my tears just like that. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d looked at me kindly. Jensen’s tenderness vanished as he looked at me, replaced by a cold glare. “Summer Jiang, look what you’ve done! Apologize to Kate.” I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. “No way.” Jensen was taken aback that I actually had the nerve to talk back to him. Because I loved him, I had always been cautious and meticulous around him, carefully holding onto my sincerity, fearing his dislike. But no matter what I did, it was always wrong in his eyes. I could never measure up to Kate. Jensen merely showed a moment of surprise before carrying Kate back to the sofa. As I walked out, I heard Jensen’s voice from behind me: “Summer Jiang, do you really have to make a scene and make everyone look bad?” He knew I wouldn’t be able to step out that door. His bodyguards forced me back inside. Jensen’s gaze was heavy as he looked at me. “Kate’s condition can’t handle stress. You need to apologize to her.” Kate gave me a triumphant smirk, then looked at Jensen. “It’s alright, Jensen, Summer didn’t mean it.” Jensen looked at her with pity. “Kate, you’re just too kind, that’s why she bullies you. I won’t allow such things to happen.” Then, he glared at me again. “No one can harm Kate, or they’ll pay double.” His protective stance reminded me of when I was kidnapped and sold to a mountain village as a child. He was the one who, despite the dangers, held my hand and led me to escape. He had once been good to me, maybe he just didn’t remember. And now, perhaps my unyielding attitude had angered him. Jensen was determined to teach me a lesson. He gestured for his bodyguards to make me kneel before them. Seeing me humbled, he nodded, slightly satisfied. A sharp-eyed bodyguard stepped forward, raising his hand to strike me. Kate stopped him. “Jensen, Summer may have made a mistake, but she’s still a girl. I can’t bear to see her bullied by a man.” “If you truly want to teach her a lesson, let me do it.” Jensen, always compliant with her, naturally indulged her. Kate, without hesitation, raised her hand and slapped me twice. My face was snapped to the side, my lips bleeding, and my ears rang for a moment. Kate looked at Jensen, feigning distress. “Oh no, I accidentally hurt Summer. I didn’t mean to.” Jensen snorted coldly. “She deserved it. She hurt you first, yet you’re still worrying about her.” He then rubbed her palm. “Did it hurt your hand?” Kate blushed and shook her head. The bodyguards released me, and I stumbled awkwardly to the floor. Jensen looked at me. “Summer Jiang, you owe Kate this. Apologize to her.” I owe her? She was the one who slandered my children first! Jensen always sided with her, no matter right or wrong. I curved my lips, letting out a scoff. “Never!” “I hate you!”

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Everyone in Manhattan’s elite circles knew Silas Sterling had a girl he kept on a pedestal. She was spoiled, entitled, and utterly arrogant. Even on our wedding day, she showed up in a white gown that mirrored my own, making me look like the punchline of a joke. I stayed silent until my family and I systematically dismantled Silas’s empire and drove him into bankruptcy. Only then did that girl crawl to me on her knees, begging for mercy. I looked down at her with a cold smirk. “Weren’t you the one dying to be his bride?” I asked. “Well, I hope you both enjoy each other’s company in federal prison. Till death do you part.” 1 As I began my walk down the aisle, I saw her. She was standing on the mezzanine balcony of the ballroom, draped in a white silk gown that mirrored my own. She looked down at my fiancé, Silas Sterling, with eyes brimming with tears. And Silas? He was looking right back at her, his expression filled with a longing that made me, the actual bride, look like a circus act. Beside me, my father’s hand tightened on my arm, his knuckles white. I placed my hand over his, forcing him to stay calm. The whispers from the pews were like static in the air: “Who is that girl? Showing up to a wedding dressed as the bride? Where’s the class?” “Don’t you know? That’s Chloe, the ward Silas raised for eighteen years. They’re… ‘close’.” “Everyone knows she’s obsessed with him. The only reason Silas chose Elena Vance is because his mother forced his hand to secure the Vance family merger.” Under the icy glare of the Sterling matriarch, Silas finally, reluctantly, tore his eyes away from the balcony. Chloe was eventually pulled back into the shadows by a bridesmaid, forced to change into a cocktail dress before being ushered to a seat. I marched forward with a dignified smile—the perfect picture of the “refined heiress” Mrs. Sterling Senior demanded. In front of the priest and the city’s elite, I let Silas slide the ring onto my finger. I watched Chloe’s eyes turn a deeper shade of red with every word of the vows. Silas looked miserable. I looked amused. Oh, you’re heartbroken? I thought. Let me give you something real to cry about. Before the reception could even begin, I grabbed Chloe’s hand in front of a group of socialites. I flashed a wide, beaming smile. “You must be Chloe, right? From today on, you can call me Mom.” The surrounding guests froze for a heartbeat before several of them muffled their laughter. I maintained my “gracious” expression, looking at her with faux maternal warmth. “They say a daughter is a father’s first love,” I added, my voice dripping with sugary malice. “Looking at the two of you, I can see that’s true in more ways than one!” Chloe looked like she had been stripped naked in the middle of Times Square. Her deepest, dirtiest secret had just been paraded in front of everyone she wanted to impress. She turned and bolted out of the hall in a fit of hysterical tears. Silas tried to follow her, but I clamped my hand onto his arm with a grip like a vice. “Husband,” I whispered, the smile never leaving my face. “For the sake of the multi-million dollar merger between our firms, I suggest you stay and finish the toast.” He glared at me, his face twisted in a silent snarl of rage. But he stayed. He didn’t have a choice. 2 The wedding was a “success,” at least for the stock market. Silas was immediately buried in the overseas expansion project we had launched together. He didn’t have time to play peacemaker between his new wife and his “little girl,” so I had to handle her myself. When I arrived at the Sterling estate for the first time as its mistress, I found my designer luggage sitting on the wet grass of the front lawn. Chloe was standing in the grand doorway, arms crossed, looking down her nose at me like she owned the place. I grew up as a Vance. My family’s staff didn’t even breathe without my permission. When my personal assistant saw the suitcases on the grass, her hand literally twitched. I held her back. I stepped out of the car, leaned down, and picked up an emerald necklace that had spilled out of one of my bags. I stood up and looked at Chloe with a playful glint in my eye. “Do you have any idea how much this insurance premium costs?” Chloe scoffed. “Only peasants care about the price of jewelry. I have drawers full of stuff Silas bought me. Do you want some of my hand-me-downs, Elena?” I didn’t say a word. I just looked at my assistant. She didn’t need a verbal command. She stepped forward and delivered a backhand so sharp the sound echoed off the limestone pillars. Chloe stumbled back, clutching her face in disbelief. “How dare you?” she shrieked. My assistant sneered. “Know your place. You’re talking to a Vance.” Following my nod, the staff pinned Chloe down, forcing her to her knees at my feet. I reached down and tilted her chin up with one finger, admiring the shock on her pampered face. Then I slapped her. Twice. Hard. This was a gated community. The houses were close. The sound of the blows brought the neighbors out onto their balconies. I didn’t care. I let out a light laugh. “Listen to me, Chloe. I know Silas has babied you for a decade. But I’m the woman of this house now. You want to marry him? Get in line. But until you do, you’re under my thumb.” “Keep acting out, and I will break you every single time until you learn to sit.” Chloe tried to scream a curse at me. I slapped her again, making sure her lip bled. Suddenly, someone came sprinting from the neighboring lawn. “Elena! Stop it! She’s just a kid!” I turned to see Greg Montgomery, the neighborhood playboy, grabbing my wrist. I didn’t hesitate. My free hand swung around and connected with his face, too. As he stood there, stunned and clutching his cheek, I hissed: “Greg, mind your own business. Chloe is a legal adult. If you want to play house with her, do it on your own time. This is a family matter, and frankly, you don’t have the bank balance to interfere.” His face turned beet red. “The Vance Group just acquired thirty percent of your father’s firm,” I reminded him. “If you want to keep your trust fund, I suggest you go back inside.” He went silent. I looked at my staff. They grabbed Chloe by the hair and dragged her into the house like a bag of trash. 3 Chloe wasn’t related to Silas by blood, but he had raised her since she was a toddler. Their dynamic was sick. Her bedroom was literally connected to his through a shared walk-in closet. The house staff whispered that Silas liked to stay close in case she had “nightmares.” I laughed when I heard it. “So,” I said to the head housekeeper, who was looking at me with pure terror. “I’m the third wheel in my own marriage? Is this a group project?” The housekeeper knew I wasn’t someone to mess with. By that evening, every single one of Chloe’s belongings had been moved to a guest suite in the basement. I watched the boxes go down, my expression cold. I didn’t care what Silas did in his spare time. But if Chloe thought she could scream in my face and get away with it, she was delusional. Silas came home that night, clearly tipped off that his “princess” was being mistreated. At the dinner table, I sat elegantly in a silk robe, sipping soup. When I set a bowl down for Silas, he looked at me, let out a disgusted scoff, and swiped the bowl off the table with his forearm. The scalding broth splattered across my hand. Across the table, Chloe’s eyes lit up with malicious joy, though she quickly masked it with a fake, worried pout. “Does it hurt?” Silas sneered. “Not as much as Chloe’s face hurts after you attacked her this morning. Do you think you’re untouchable just because of your last name, Elena?” Chloe stood up, playing the peacemaker. “Uncle Silas, please… don’t fight. It was my fault.” I slowly stood up. The “gracious wife” mask was gone. I looked Silas dead in the eye and delivered a bone-shattering slap across his face. “Silas Sterling,” I said, my voice like a whip. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt. But don’t you dare think for one second that I’m the kind of woman who takes hits.” The ring on my finger had caught his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. Chloe screamed and rushed to his side. “Silas! Are you okay?” I didn’t stop. I grabbed the porcelain dinner plate and smashed it onto the floor. A shard flew up and nicked Chloe’s eyelid. She shrieked, covering her eye. My security team stepped in, forming a wall between me and an enraged Silas. I picked up a sharp piece of porcelain from the floor. 4 Silas tried to lunge at me, but he couldn’t get past my guards. “ELENA! STOP!” he roared. I ignored him. I looked at my assistant and nodded. She stepped forward, grabbed Chloe’s arm, and held it steady. Before Chloe could even realize what was happening, I used the porcelain shard to carve two quick lines into her cheek. Nothing deep, just enough to leave a permanent reminder. Chloe wailed, backing away in horror. I stood there, smoothing out my robe, and picked up a glass of Cabernet. I raised it toward Silas. “Silas, if you were smart, you wouldn’t have married me. You need the Vance money to keep your company afloat, and as long as I’m the one paying the bills, I run the house.” “Chloe is a houseguest. If she insults me again, I’ll make sure she’s deaf or blind by morning. Do I make myself clear?” I set the glass down and walked upstairs without looking back. While we were fighting, my staff had already called Silas’s mother. They told her Chloe had staged a coup and that Silas was helping her bully me. Since the Vance-Sterling merger was the only thing keeping their family out of the tabloids, Mrs. Sterling Senior was terrified. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, her private car was already in the driveway to pick me up. I left with my staff and spent the next two weeks at the Sterling family estate. Mrs. Sterling spent the entire time apologizing to me, plying me with heirloom diamonds to make sure I didn’t tell my father to pull the funding. I played the “broken, dutiful wife” perfectly. 5 I stayed at the family estate until Silas finally came to beg me to return. My brother had “accidentally” mentioned to Silas during a board meeting that he was looking into other investment opportunities. Silas knew what that meant. When we finally returned to the villa, the layout had changed. The housekeeper had replaced the modern furniture with the heavy, antique pieces I preferred. It felt like a fortress. I took off my coat and smiled at the butler. “Where is Chloe?” Before Silas could speak, the butler bowed. “Miss Chloe moved into a private apartment downtown. She said she didn’t want to disturb your peace.” I raised an eyebrow. “She moved to the Chelsea District?” I asked. The butler hesitated. I smirked. “Isn’t that building known for housing ‘kept women’?” I laughed. “Silas, really? You’re making it look so tawdry. People will talk.” “Poor Chloe. Her reputation in the city is going to be ruined. She’ll never find a decent husband now.” Silas’s face was a map of humiliation. He and I were both sharks; we knew exactly what the move meant. He wanted her where I couldn’t touch her, but in doing so, he had effectively branded her as his mistress. I didn’t care. I spent the next month systematically taking over the house. I fired the staff loyal to him. I audited the household accounts. I made sure every person under that roof knew who held the checkbook. By the time Chloe came back for a visit, the house was a Vance stronghold. She had been quiet lately, focusing on her senior year at the New York School of Design. Silas had spent millions to get her in, despite her mediocre grades. He even promised her a trip to Paris once she finished her thesis. At dinner, Chloe was back to her old tricks, whining about how “hard” her design project was. Silas was cooing over her, promising her the world. I couldn’t help it. I let out a sharp laugh. Chloe snapped. “What’s so funny? Do you think my education is a joke?” “I think your grades are a joke,” I said smoothly. “That’s an Ivy-equivalent school. Do you really think you got in on talent?” My assistant chimed in with a smirk: “Our lady graduated summa cum laude from Oxford. She actually knows what a library looks like. Unlike some people who buy their way through.” I looked at Silas. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. He had kept Chloe in a bubble, making her believe she was a genius. I just enjoyed watching the bubble pop.

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Mom held her in her arms, her eyes red from crying, while Dad swore to make up for lost time: “My precious girl, whatever you want, it’s yours.” She just pointed at me, her face the picture of innocence: “I want my big sister to go back to her own home, too.” She thought I was just some entitled villainess who had stolen her golden spoon. But she entirely missed how the color drained from my family’s faces the moment those words left her mouth. [1] When I rushed back for the family dinner, I saw my mom clutching a scrawny girl, weeping as if her heart had been ripped out. Even my tough-as-nails dad was wiping away tears. Mom fussed over her, checking her from head to toe. “Mia, Mommy finally found you.” “It’s my fault I didn’t keep a closer eye on you. You’ve suffered so much out there.” The girl’s identity was obvious. She was the biological daughter my parents had accidentally lost years ago. While I was still studying her features, she looked at me timidly. “Mommy, who is that?” She shrank deeper into my mom’s embrace, looking like a frightened little deer. Mom gently stroked her hair and said softly, “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. That’s your big sister.” Then she turned to me. “Chloe, this is your sister. Her name is Mia now.” I nodded, but when I met her eyes, I caught a fleeting, inexplicable flash of hostility. She hesitated, acting as if she couldn’t believe it. “Mommy, when did I get a sister?” Seeing my mom struggle for words, I stepped up and explained, “I’m adopted.” Mia looked confused. Shaking her head, she muttered softly, “How can that be?” “You already have a child… so what does that make me?” Tears began to cascade down her cheeks, soaking into my mom’s blouse. Mom panicked and immediately started coaxing her. “You are our precious baby, of course!” “Your sister is family, too. It just means there’s one more person in this house to love you.” Mia stared blankly at the hardwood floor, murmuring to herself. “You didn’t want me anymore. You got another kid, so you definitely won’t treat me well.” Her pitiful demeanor, combined with the tragic backstory of living on the streets for years, wrung every last tear from my parents. Even I felt a little bad for her. I started to tell the truth, “Hey, don’t cry. Actually, I’m—” Mia’s wailing instantly drowned me out. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come back! I’m just ruining your perfect family of three!” My parents were frantic. They swarmed her with comfort. “Mia, how could you say that?” “You are our flesh and blood. We prayed for this day for years. We are overjoyed! You could never be a burden!” Mia caught her breath, sniffing. “Really?” “Of course!” they nodded vigorously. Having gotten the validation she wanted, she finally smiled through her tears. She nuzzled against Mom’s arm and cooed: “Does that mean I can have whatever I want?” “Anything!” But in the very next second, she pointed straight at me and dropped a bomb: “Then I want my big sister to go back to her own home, too.” The atmosphere in the room instantly froze. She shook my mom’s arm expectantly, but Mom awkwardly pulled away. Realizing things weren’t going according to her script, Mia looked panicked. “Mommy, Daddy… did I say something wrong?” Dad cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have two daughters. Let’s just keep things as they are.” Mom chimed in, “Exactly. You just got back. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask your sister.” Mia hadn’t expected her demand to be shut down so decisively. She instinctively shot a glare at me. I just gave her a sweet smile. “Sure.” Then I turned on my heel and walked right out the front door. Behind me, I could hear Mom screaming in a total panic, “Chloe! Chloe, come back here!” [2] I got in my car and sped off, driving straight until I parked in front of a sprawling, magnificent estate. The butler politely opened the door for me. Just as Mia wished, I had gone back to my “own” home. The owners of this estate were nominally my aunt and uncle, but legally and biologically, they were my real parents. It was true that I was adopted by my current family. But strictly speaking, it was a family transfer. Years ago, when my adoptive dad lost his daughter, he nearly lost his mind. He begged my biological parents to let him adopt me to ease the grief. My bio parents refused at first, and my older brother cried, begging them not to let me go. But seeing my adoptive parents wasting away into literal skeletons from the heartbreak, my bio parents finally caved and let me live with them. Mia thought I was a cuckoo bird stealing her nest, basking in the love and luxury that rightfully belonged to her. She was the real heiress of that house, sure. But I was no peasant, either. My biological father’s empire had exploded over the last decade. He was now sitting on billions of dollars in assets. If I hadn’t been adopted out, my life would be a hundred times more lavish than it already was. Thinking back to the raw resentment in Mia’s eyes, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Looked like I wouldn’t be having a peaceful life anytime soon. The private chef saw me come in and immediately got to work. By the time my adoptive parents rushed over from their tearful reunion, I was sitting at the dining table, leisurely eating fresh lobster. Mom ran over, frantically grabbing my hand. “Chloe, you drove way too fast! That was so dangerous!” Dad didn’t waste a second either. He sat right down and started cracking lobster claws for me. “My poor baby, you must be so upset. Mia just got back and doesn’t know how things work yet. Please don’t take it to heart.” I raised an eyebrow. “So I should just stay there and let her hate me?” Mom jumped. “Who dares to hate you?! I’ll be the first one to put a stop to it!” Dad added, “You saying things like that is breaking our hearts, kiddo.” I feigned a sigh. “She told me to go to my own home. I figured I’d stay here for a couple of days so I don’t upset her further.” “Absolutely not! Mom will be worried sick if you aren’t home,” she said, practically trying to pull me out of my chair. Dad placed a massive chunk of lobster meat on my plate, his voice impossibly soft. “You are our precious daughter. Please, come home with us.” I chewed the lobster, nodding in satisfaction. I had tested the waters enough. It was clear they truly loved me. If they had ignored me the second they found their bio daughter, I would have just let them have their happy family reunion and stayed here. I made them patiently wait until I finished my meal before letting them escort me back. As my parents flanked me on our way through the front door, I casually glanced up. I saw someone glaring daggers at me from the second-floor balcony. I smiled. Mia, I still win this round. [3] Truthfully, I didn’t have much ill will toward her. She was my adoptive parents’ biological daughter, which made her my cousin. Blood is thicker than water. When we first met, I actually felt a lot of sympathy for her. But her behavior since stepping foot in this house completely killed that vibe. If she didn’t want to acknowledge me as her sister, I wasn’t going to bend over backwards to kiss her ring. But I severely underestimated Mia’s ambition and her shady little tactics. Every single day, she tried to pull off some petty scheme to make me lose my temper, hoping to usurp my place in the household. She constantly played the “sweet, innocent angel” in front of Mom, looking at me smugly whenever she got a compliment. She went out of her way to do chores for the maids, trying to prove how “humble” and different she was compared to me. I just watched her coldly, refusing to take the bait. She was a girl who had grown up starved for affection, so she was desperate for the spotlight. I, on the other hand, had been showered in love since the day I was born. Her tacky little tricks were beneath me, and I couldn’t be bothered to entertain them. But after the hundredth time she tried to pull a fast one on me, I finally got annoyed enough to call my biological dad, who was out of the country on business. After hearing me complain, he immediately threatened to fly back, legally transfer my guardianship back to him, and take me away so I wouldn’t have to suffer. It took me half an hour to calm him down, and he ended up insisting on buying me a new sports car to make up for it. A few days later, the luxury dealership called. I headed over to test drive it, in a great mood. But the moment I reached the showroom doors, I saw Mia arguing with the staff, flanked by a squad of her new sycophant friends. I could hear her shrieking from fifty feet away. “You minimum-wage losers! Do you know who I am? How dare you block my way!” Her little minions echoed her: “Open your blind eyes! This is the eldest daughter of the Sterling family! Move!” “She’s richer than your entire bloodline!” “Get your manager out here now!” I was still trying to figure out why she was even here when the general manager, Mr. Davis, hurried over with a warm smile to escort me to the VIP lounge. As I walked past Mia, she pointed at me and shrieked, “Why does she get to go in?!” I looked at her like she was the punchline to a joke. “Because I’m a Platinum VIP, sweetie. Of course I can go in.” Mia bit her lip stubbornly, glaring at the stressed-out employee. “So what if it’s a VIP card? How much is it? Ring me up for ten of them!” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Mia, you can’t just buy a Platinum VIP status here.” Her friends obviously didn’t believe me, crossing their arms arrogantly. “What stupid VIP rule is that? Our Mia is a billionaire heiress. She has infinite money.” “If you have it, Mia can get it with a snap of her fingers!” Mr. Davis couldn’t take the disrespect anymore. He cleared his throat. “Our Platinum VIP tier is by invitation only, exclusively for clients who have spent over thirty million dollars here consecutively over the past five years.” [4] Mia’s face instantly flushed beet red. Her eyes were a cocktail of jealousy, humiliation, and pure hatred directed at me. The allowance my parents gave her was generous, but nowhere near enough for her to burn thirty million on cars. Her friends tried to argue, but Mia stopped them, muttering bitterly, “Big deal. You just used my parents’ money to buy those cars anyway.” Seeing her choke on her own pride put me in a fantastic mood. I ignored her and followed Mr. Davis into the showroom. But just as I reached the custom Porsche my bio dad had ordered for me, Mia darted out from behind me and shoved me aside. “That’s the one! I’m taking it!” My face turned to ice. I stepped between her and the car. “Who gave you permission to touch this?” Mia blinked her eyes, playing dumb. “Sister, why are you so mad?” “Are you saying this is your car?” She lifted her chin, puffing up like a proud peacock. “Of course it’s mine. It’s a welcome-home gift from my uncle.” Her little squad immediately chimed in: “Only the real biological niece gets that kind of treatment. Keep crying about it!” “You’re just a trashy squatter in a luxury penthouse! How dare you try to compete with Mia!” Seeing how confident they were, I honestly had a moment of doubt. Did my bio dad actually buy her an identical car to be nice? But this was a limited edition. There was only one in the entire state. Mia gleefully continued her victory lap. “If you don’t believe me, call the butler! He just told me the car ordered for ‘the Sterling daughter’ arrived, so I came down to pick it up!” “Did you hear that? The Sterling daughter. Not the cheap knock-off!” The meanest girl in her group spat on the floor near my shoes. “Hear that, fake?! You shameless thief, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Mia!” “You’re like a rat, trying to steal everything you can get your claws on.” I was trembling with rage. I pulled out my phone to call my bio dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Mia got even more animated. “I know Mom and Dad raised you, so they love you. I won’t fight you for their affection.” “But this car is a gift from my uncle to his actual blood relative. Are you really going to try and steal this from me too, Sister?” Mia had completely redefined the concept of shamelessness. She played the innocent victim at home, but turned into a tyrannical monster the second she stepped outside. Just as the standoff hit a boiling point, Mr. Davis walked over, holding a leather-bound folder. Mia’s friends lit up and rushed over to intercept him. But Mr. Davis completely bypassed them. He walked straight to me. “Ms. Sterling, here are the keys and the final paperwork. Thank you again for your continued business.” [4] The ownership of the car was suddenly crystal clear. Mia stared at the keys in shock, her eyes bulging. “Impossible!” “You must have made a mistake! I’m the real daughter of the Sterling family!” Her dumbest friend turned on Mr. Davis. “How could you give the car to this imposter?!” I ignored the screeching, flipping open the contract and pointing to the signature line. “Read it and weep. Client: Chloe Sterling.” Mia shook her head, still refusing to accept reality. I simply pushed past her, climbed into the driver’s seat, and left nothing but the roar of the engine echoing in the showroom. Not long after I got home, I heard muffled sobbing echoing from the living room. I walked out to find Mia buried in Mom’s chest, crying a river, acting like she had just survived a war crime. I had to admire her acting skills. I clicked my tongue. “Give the girl an Oscar.” Mia caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye. Sniffling, with red-rimmed eyes, she choked out, “Mommy, does Sister hate me?” “First, she had the staff at the dealership block me from entering, totally humiliating our family in public.” “And then, even though Uncle bought that car for me, his real niece, she forced them to say it was hers.” Hearing the words “real niece,” Dad immediately perked up. “Chloe, what is going on with the car?” I calmly recounted the entire incident, leaving no detail out. When I finished, Dad looked directly at Mia and said bluntly, “Your sister is telling the truth. Your uncle bought that car specifically for her.” “Daddy?” Mia looked at him in total disbelief. Mom tried to smooth things over. “Mia, sweetheart, stop making a fuss. That car doesn’t belong to you. When your uncle comes back from his trip, I’m sure he’ll buy you a nice gift too.” Mia refused to drop it. She mumbled hesitantly, “But… that car was incredibly expensive.” “Since Sister isn’t really a blood member of this family, is it really appropriate for her to accept such a lavish gift from Uncle?” Before the words fully left her mouth, both of my parents’ faces darkened. The room went dead silent. Mom dropped her gentle tone. “Watch your mouth. Chloe will always be a member of this family.” Dad’s face was ice cold. “Your uncle adores Chloe. He sends her a massive allowance every single month. Buying her a car is completely normal for him.” Mia slumped over in defeat. Her face was a chaotic painting of shock, jealousy, and bitter resentment. It twisted her pretty features into something quite ugly. She thought that because she watched a few soap operas, she knew how rich families worked. She assumed they were cold-blooded monsters who only cared about DNA. But my parents had poured their hearts into raising me for twenty years. Plus, I literally shared their bloodline. How could a few cheap words break a bond like that? Mia clearly thought my parents were just taking pity on me, and that she was the “bigger person” for letting me have the car. She tearfully apologized, promising she wouldn’t “fight” me anymore. Once she finally shut up, I turned to the butler standing quietly in the corner. “Thomas. You’ve served the Sterling family for many years. I think it’s time you retired. Go collect your severance package and enjoy your golden years.” The usually stoic butler snapped his head up in shock. “Miss, are you firing me?” I didn’t answer. I just waited for my parents to back me up. Thomas looked desperately at them. “Ma’am! Sir!” Mom’s tone was indifferent. “If Chloe says you should leave, then go pack your things.” Dad walked over and patted my shoulder. “Chloe, don’t let these people upset you.” I swept a cold gaze over the rest of the staff. Every single one of them dropped their heads, terrified to meet my eyes. Perfect. People needed to learn how to read the room.

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Following my family’s arrangement, I married a stern, dull man. On our wedding night, I suggested sleeping in separate rooms. Christian unbuttoned his shirt right in front of me, his eyes dark and deep: “But I have needs.” 1 Christian and I were in a marriage of convenience, prioritizing interests over feelings. He was my brother Carter’s friend, groomed as an heir since childhood—stern, dull, handsome, noble, polite, yet aloof. When I heard him agree to this marriage at the dinner table, I was completely stunned. But then I thought, since I had to marry someone for an alliance anyway, and the partner was Christian, I might as well not be picky. We had just finished our wedding in Beverly Hills. He was a bit drunk, got into the stretch limo, closed his eyes, and didn’t speak. Exhausted from the long day, I suddenly woke up to the realization of what might happen tonight. The ten-minute drive was agonizing, and my breathing grew tense. He shouldn’t be able to do much if he’s drunk, right? I called out to Christian, but there was no response. He must be heavily intoxicated. My hanging heart suddenly dropped. The car stopped, and the man spoke, his voice slightly hoarse: “We’re here.” “You’re awake?” He nodded, picked up my designer clutch, and opened the door to get out. “I can carry it myself.” The thick stack of checks gifted by the guests tonight was all in there. He refused outright, his voice light: “No need, it’s a bit heavy.” In the elevator, it was just Christian and me, standing one behind the other. Neither of us spoke, and the atmosphere was somewhat awkward. Watching the numbers slowly rise, I broke the silence first: “Are you drunk? Do you want me to get you a glass of ice water to sober up?” “No, I’m not drunk. We still have proper business to attend to tonight.” Understanding the meaning behind his words, my cheeks flushed slightly as I repeatedly mentally prepared myself. The elevator stopped. We entered the penthouse, changed into slippers, and pushed the bedroom door open. I froze. A custom “Just Married” banner hung on the wall, the champagne balloons were blinding, and the floor was covered in white and red rose petals. Christian stood behind me at some point, his voice cold: “You’re tired today, get some rest early.” “Do you want to shower first?” “I have some things to take care of, you go first.” Christian went to the study to work. So this was the “proper business” he mentioned. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, found a relatively conservative pajama set in the closet, and came out after a shower with my hair tied in a bun. My skin had a natural blush from the steam. I applied my skincare routine and dawdled for an hour and a half. Christian had finished his work at some point. He was looking down, unbuttoning his shirt. His Rolex watch and tie were placed on the table. “……Should we sleep in separate rooms?” Christian frowned, remained silent for a moment, and slowly asked, “Why.” “We…… aren’t close.” “We took our vows at the church and it’s legal now. You need to slowly adapt to your identity as Mrs. Pierce.” “Besides, I have needs.” As soon as he said that, the roots of my ears instantly became burning hot. I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t expect him to be so blunt. His eyes darkened, and he softened his tone: “But if you’re not willing, I respect your choice. Let nature take its course.” Anyway, what needs to be done will be done sooner or later. I bit my lip: “Okay then, let’s not sleep in separate rooms.” The pattering sound of water came from the bathroom, and a subtle, strange feeling spread in my heart. My heartbeat quickened. I patted my chest, calming myself down. Stay calm, stay calm. It’s not like I haven’t seen this in movies before. About ten minutes later, the water stopped. Christian wore loungewear, his hair slightly wet. The edge of the bed sank slightly, and I could smell the faint scent of cedarwood on him. I tried to make my voice sound natural: “Do you want to blow-dry your hair?” “No need. My body runs hot, it’ll dry quickly.” “Olivia—” “Hmm?” I looked up to meet those dark eyes. I didn’t know if it was my illusion, but there was a strong aggressiveness in those pitch-black pupils. “I’m turning off the light.” The room instantly plunged into darkness. There was only a small nightlight, casting a warm glow over a small area. I shrank back, creating some distance between us. Before I could react, I was already confined in Christian’s embrace. Having just showered, the man’s body was a bit cool, yet carried a strong sense of intrusion. Even through a thin layer of fabric, I could feel the heat of his skin. I was completely uncomfortable and didn’t dare to move recklessly. My mind was a mess. We looked at each other, both well aware of what was going to happen next. His voice was husky: “Go to sleep.” Unexpectedly, after lying there for a long time, the man next to me didn’t make a move until the sound of even breathing came from beside my ear. He fell asleep? The arm around my waist was firm and strong, our bodies pressed tightly together without a gap. It was hard to fall asleep in this position. Christian was usually cold and aloof towards people. It was rare to see him so passionate tonight. He must have been truly drunk. 2 Christian was very busy with work and went on a business trip abroad on the third day after our wedding. He sent me a simple text message. [On a business trip to France.] I typed in the chat box: [When are you coming back?] Feeling like I was asking too much, I deleted the message. During the week Christian was away, we neither video-called nor texted. I almost forgot I was married. I took a shower at night, and when I reached for my clothes afterward, I grabbed empty air. I forgot to bring my pajamas and only brought my underwear. I was the only one home now, so I stepped right out of the bathroom. I stood in front of the closet for a full eight minutes, picking out a style I had never tried before. Since Christian wasn’t home, I could wear whatever I wanted. No one would see me anyway. Faintly excited, I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror after changing. At first, I was a bit uncomfortable and shy, but I let go later on, eager to try on the next set. Just as I opened the closet, the bedroom door lock clicked open. Caught off guard, I quickly dove under the covers, leaving only my head exposed. I met Christian’s gaze in a panic, frowned, and complained, “Why did you come in without knocking?” My face was burning red. He must have seen everything just now. I really wanted to dig a hole and hide. Christian’s face was impassive, his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and his voice betrayed no emotion: “Sorry, I’ll pay attention next time.” “Then get out quickly, I need to change.” The door closed, and I quickly changed back into my original pajamas. My face felt burning hot, and I splashed some cold water on it. My lower abdomen suddenly cramped with a dull pain. My period was here. I was a restless sleeper and easily stained the sheets. There were no period panties at home, and I was too lazy to go out and buy them late at night. I was hesitating whether to sleep in the guest room tonight, so even if the sheets got dirty, it wouldn’t be embarrassing. Christian came in. His hair was still damp with steam, and he had changed into loungewear. He obviously just finished showering, his gaze dark and deep. “Something wrong?” I pursed my lips: “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” “Why?” “The central AC in this room doesn’t seem to be cooling well. I run hot.” “I’ll go sleep next door too.” “Christian, why are you following me.” His voice was cold: “I run hot too.” I looked up at him: “It’ll be even hotter with two people sleeping together.” Christian met my gaze and said seriously: “Then let’s turn the AC temperature down a bit.” “……” “Forget it, I’ll just sleep here.” I slept fitfully that night, anxious and afraid. When I woke up the next day and saw the clean sheets, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness I didn’t stain them. After washing up and going downstairs, Christian was sitting upright at the dining table, breakfast already laid out. He looked up, his voice light: “Morning.” “It’s already nine o’clock, aren’t you going to work today?” “Grandmother asked us to go back to the estate today.” “Then I’ll change clothes later.” “Drink this soup before it gets cold. Martha made it this morning.” I took a look. It was a bowl of nutritious hot soup made with organic ingredients and high protein…… “Why did Martha make this?” “To supplement your nutrition, it’s good for your body.” “Does your stomach hurt?” “I’m fine, I don’t have those reactions.” Changing the subject, I blinked and stared straight at him: “Christian, you care about me so much. Do you have a secret crush on me?” I could never figure out why Christian agreed to marry into my family. He had a perfectly good marriage prospect right beside him—his childhood friend, the socialite Blair. They were a match made in heaven, and everyone agreed they would end up together. His dark eyes looked at me, and he refused bluntly: “No.” Then he added: “I’ve always been openly in love.” “Oh.” Turns out I was overthinking. “I brought back a batch of haute couture dresses from France. They’re on the third floor, go try them on.” My eyes instantly lit up, and the disappointment from a moment ago was swept away. A marriage of convenience, no feelings, treating each other with respect, not bothering each other. This was pretty good too. 3 When we arrived at the Pierce family estate, it was just in time for lunch. At the dining table, the conversation turned to the Smith family having a new grandson. “When do you two plan to have one?” I was drinking soup and almost choked on those words. I put down my spoon, feeling a bit awkward, and secretly pinched Christian’s thigh. “Olivia is still young. It’s not appropriate to consider having a baby right now. Besides, we just got married. Having kids is a bit too fast.” “That’s true, but you should start taking good care of your bodies now. You’re almost thirty, getting older. Take care of your health, don’t stay up late working all the time and ruin your body.” “Mom, you don’t need to worry about these things. I’ll take care of it myself.” “There’s still some premium slow-cooked bone marrow broth at home. I’ll have them bring it out for you two later to nourish your bodies. Just stay at the estate tonight, the rooms are already prepared.” The family kept a sheepdog. After dinner, I took the dog out for a walk. “I can walk the dog by myself, you don’t need to follow me.” I wasn’t very close to Christian, and sometimes being alone with him felt a bit awkward. “If he goes crazy outside later, you won’t be able to hold him.” “Buster looks pretty well-behaved.” “Let’s go.” Christian put his hands in his pockets. Taking advantage of his long legs, he walked at an unhurried, slow pace. I deliberately quickened my steps to widen the distance between us, walking one in front of the other. Buster was full of energy. After walking for nearly half an hour, I was almost dead tired. “You hold him, I need to rest.” Christian smiled: “Tired already? You were walking too fast just now.” Panting slightly, I took out my phone. “Look, I’ve already walked over ten thousand steps. I really don’t want to walk anymore.” “Then let’s sit here for a while.” There were no benches around, but there was a large rock nearby. I was getting ready to sit on it and rest a bit. “Wait a minute.” He took off his suit jacket and placed it on the rock. “Sit on this.” The top button of his white shirt was undone, faintly revealing the outline of his shoulder muscles—lean and powerful, exuding a strong sense of pressure. My heartbeat accelerated a bit. Christian’s physique was surprisingly good, very attractive. “Sit here for a while, I’ll go buy some water.” “Okay.” “Olivia—” Hearing someone call me, I looked up and froze for a moment. It was Noah, my crush from high school. He used to be my neighbor. I was going to confess to him after the high school prom, but I accidentally heard the news that he was going to study in Europe. That feeling died before it even started, and I sulked at home for two months over the summer. “Noah, when did you get back to the country?” “I just came back recently.” “Are you living around here now?” “No, I came to visit a friend.” “Have some water.” Christian came back from buying water and handed me a bottle of room-temperature water. “Is this your boyfriend?” Christian’s expression remained undisturbed. He reached out his hand politely and said, “Hello, I am Olivia’s husband, Christian Pierce.” Noah froze slightly, looking surprised: “You’re married?” “Just recently. I hadn’t had the time to tell you yet.” After chatting briefly with Noah, we ended the conversation. On the way back, Christian was a bit strange, quieter than ever before. Once through the door, I couldn’t hold it in and asked, “Christian, are you a little unhappy?” He looked at me for a moment and pondered: “He’s the guy you had a crush on in high school.” I was a bit bewildered: “Who?” “Noah.” My eyes widened in surprise: “How did you know?” Only my brother and I knew about this. At that time, my parents thought I was depressed because I didn’t get into an Ivy League school. He silently loosened his tie, his tone low: “I guessed.” “Then you’re quite the psychic. But I stopped liking him a long time ago. We haven’t been in touch for years.” “Why?” “……International calling rates were too expensive.” He curled his lips and laughed out loud. I had sweat a little outside, and my body felt sticky and uncomfortable. I went to the room to take a shower first. After coming out, I searched around and finally found Christian in the study. I didn’t bother him and went downstairs to watch TV for a while. Grandmother was busy with something in the kitchen. After a while, she brought out a large bowl of thick soup. “Olivia, you and Christian drink this slow-cooked bone marrow and seafood bisque. I had someone simmer it all afternoon, it tastes delicious.” “Thank you, Grandmother.” “I’m going to sleep first. Make sure you watch Christian finish this bowl. He has dark circles under his eyes, he needs the nourishment.” I licked my lips. The walk earlier had just burned some calories, and I was a bit hungry now. I served myself a bowl. The hot soup slid down my throat into my stomach with a sweet aftertaste, making me feel much better. I carried the remaining soup to find Christian. He was taking a shower. The pattering sound of water came from the bathroom. Christian showered quickly and came out in a few minutes. I looked down, scrolling through my phone, not looking at him, and said lazily, “Drink the soup. Grandmother had someone make it.” “Did you drink any?” I nodded and looked at him: “I just had some.” “Do you want more?” I licked my lips: “A little, but that’s saved for you.” “I’m not hungry.” “I don’t like eating the meat in it.” “You drink the soup, leave the meat for me.” I hesitated for a second, picked up the spoon, and smiled: “Then I won’t be polite.” After finishing the rich soup, I brushed my teeth and lay in bed, feeling uncomfortable all over. “Could you…… move over a bit? It’s a little hot being this close.” Even though the AC was on in the room, my body still felt burning hot. I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, making restless noises. Christian sat up and turned on the light. “Are you not feeling well?” I frowned and groaned: “It’s so hot.” I wished I could take all my clothes off. “Aren’t you hot?” “It’s probably because I drank too much of that high-protein soup.” “Can you pour me a glass of ice water?” The pajamas I was wearing were simply too hot. I found a silk camisole in the closet. After changing into it, I felt much cooler. Christian pushed the door open and came in. He stood frozen in place for a moment before bringing the water over. His voice was husky: “Drink more water to lower your internal concentration.” “Why is it warm?” “You’re still on your period, you can’t drink ice water.” “I’m going to take a shower. Call me anytime if you feel unwell.” I blinked and said bluntly: “Didn’t you just take a shower?” He pursed his lips and pretended to say casually: “I’m a bit hot too.” I felt much better after drinking the water, not as restless and hot. Christian took a really long shower. The sound of the water splashed on and on, seemingly never stopping. Worried something might have happened inside, I approached the door and softly called Christian’s name. Silence. Then, faint, subtle panting sounds came from inside. I called out again. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” “Why are you showering for so long?” His voice was a bit low: “Coming out right away.” A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened. Christian had changed into a set of pajamas, buttoned all the way to the top, tightly covered. I furrowed my brows: “Aren’t you hot? Buttoning it so tightly.” Maybe I had nourished myself too much tonight, and it fried my brain. I stood straight up, moved close to Christian, and unbuttoned his shirt one by one. With his pajamas half-open, I could faintly see the bulging lines of the man’s muscles and his increasingly taut abs. I instantly held my breath. My fingertips trembled as they glided across his skin. I bit my lip and asked somewhat nervously, “Can I touch them?” Christian didn’t speak for a long time. He looked down at me from above. Because of the shower, his gaze was deeper than before. I felt inexplicably flustered. Just as I was about to pull my hand back, Christian grabbed it. The palm of his hand was boiling hot. The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his voice low and hoarse: “You can—” My entire palm rested on the man’s muscles. They were hot and hard. I traced upward along his abs, inch by inch. “Enough.” Christian’s gaze turned scorching, his throat tight: “I’ll sleep on the sofa.” 4 I tossed and turned too late last night. When I woke up, it was almost eleven o’clock. Christian had gone to work. I said goodbye to the elders and went home. I had been unemployed and resting for half a year. Recently, I sent out my resume on LinkedIn and had an interview scheduled for the afternoon. The whole process went smoothly. I applied for a receptionist position. The work was simple, allowed for slacking off, and killed time. Christian’s company was nearby, just a few steps away. He sent a message half an hour ago: Wait for me a bit, we’ll go home together. I pressed the button. The moment the elevator doors opened, I saw a familiar face. “Noah, you work on this floor too.” Seeing me, Noah smiled: “This is my startup company. Just a few years old.” I opened my mouth in surprise: “What a coincidence! I just finished my interview here today. I start next week.” There were other people in the elevator, and Noah seemed to have other things to attend to, so we just exchanged a few brief pleasantries. “I haven’t had the chance to treat you to dinner since I got back. Let me treat you when you’re free.” “Sure.” When I got to the ground floor of Pierce Group, I sent Christian a message asking if he was done. A few minutes passed without a reply. He was probably still busy. This was my first time at his company, and I wasn’t familiar with it. I called his assistant. Five minutes later, his assistant David came down and brought me up to the executive office. I pushed the office door open. The man was on the phone, a cigar clamped in his mouth, his long legs crossed. I was a bit surprised. This was the first time I had seen this side of Christian. He glanced up at me, then continued conversing with the person on the phone. His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. I sat on the sofa, casually picked up a copy of The Wall Street Journal nearby, and flipped through it. It was all business information, absolutely no entertainment, quite dry. The phone call ended. Christian flicked the cigar ash, put it out in the ashtray, and picked up his suit jacket from the chair. I yawned: “So you’re done.” “Yeah, we can head back.” “How was the job hunt?” “I’m very satisfied. Do you know who our boss is?” “Who?” “Noah! I only found out after finishing the interview.” Christian’s face was devoid of emotion as he spoke slowly: “You’ve chosen this company?” I introduced it enthusiastically, beaming: “Hehe. Four days on, three days off. 10 AM to 5 PM. Plus afternoon tea and team building. I could work in this position until I retire.” “Do you want to come to my company? Same benefits, double the salary.” I shook my head, rejecting it instantly: “No, no. You’re a big corporation. The workload is more than double. Besides, everyone in the company knows me. I wouldn’t have any freedom.” He didn’t say anything more. On the way back, he continued recommending other companies to me, all of which I turned down. “Noah and I know each other. He’ll take care of me at work, so you can rest assured.” Christian scoffed internally. “Commute together from now on?” “No need. You start at nine, I start at ten. The times are different. I can sleep in a bit longer.” “Pull over at the Target ahead. I need to buy something.” Walking into the daily necessities aisle, sanitary pads were on sale. I planned to stock up more this time, as we didn’t have many left at home. Christian stood behind me, asking seriously: “It hasn’t ended yet?” I froze for a moment, then understood what he meant. My ears felt hot as I explained quietly, “It ended a few days ago. I’m just stocking up.” His eyes lit up a little, and his mood visibly improved. After grabbing what I needed, I walked ahead. Christian followed behind, tossing a few more items into the cart. I didn’t look back, and he tossed a few more in. As we headed for the cashier, half the cart was filled with those little boxes. My brain stalled for a moment as I looked up at Christian. My voice was quieter than a mosquito: “Why did you buy so many?” “Is it a lot?” “If this isn’t a lot, what is? What if someone sees?” “Then let’s use the self-checkout.” Christian led me out to the self-checkout. There were small shelves nearby filled with those little boxes, and he grabbed a few more. I glared at him, threatening: “Stop grabbing them, that’s enough.” He pursed his lips, his voice deep: “These are a different type from the ones just now.” “……”

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Everyone said I had lost my mind after Victoria Sterling dumped me. Until one day, a wish-fulfilling vlogger’s videos started trending across every social media platform. My videos were split into seven episodes. They were the fragmented flashes of my life right before the end. The title of the first episode was: 【By the time you see this video, I will already be dead.】 1 I was bundled up tightly, with only my eyes showing. Suddenly, someone blocked my path. “Hi there, I’m a vlogger who helps people fulfill their wishes. Can I do a quick interview with you?” It was the third month since I had retired from the entertainment industry. I thought a paparazzo had recognized me, so I quickly waved him off and tried to decline. But the guy standing in front of me kept trying to convince me: “Do you have any unfulfilled wishes? I can help you make them come true. I don’t charge anything.” I turned to walk away, but I heard him chasing after me, shoving his phone screen toward my face. “I’m not a scammer! I have a TikTok account. Look, see for yourself?” I thought he was incredibly rude, but he was telling the truth. It was just obvious that he was a brand-new creator. His video count was pitifully low, and his views could be counted on one hand. Looking at his earnest face, I suddenly thought of myself when I first entered Hollywood. Back then, I was full of drive, only to hit a brick wall time and time again. A sudden wave of compassion washed over me. “What kind of wish can you help me fulfill?” The goofy kid just scratched his head. “That depends on what your wish is! To be honest, you’re the seventeenth person I’ve asked today, and none of them believed me. For example, is there someone you want to see? A place you want to go? Tell me your story, and I’ll arrange it for you.” I wanted to tease him, but I was afraid of scaring him off. “What if I wanted you to help me document the final days of my life? Would you be willing? “The condition is that before I die, these videos cannot be posted. “And if I end up surviving, all these videos become void. Are you willing to take that bet?” 2 The wish-fulfilling vlogger was named Caleb. He was tall and skinny. He sat across from me. He looked extremely antsy. No, it would be more accurate to say he was about to cry. “Ashton, I never expected it to be you. Are you really…” His eyes were bloodshot, as if he simply couldn’t accept it. “I really loved the movies you starred in.” “Yeah. I guess I’m an overachiever in every aspect. If I’m going to get sick, I might as well go big. I have several types of cancer in my body.” Shutterstock Khám phá I pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. “The doctors say I only have about six months left.” He was still holding his phone up, pointing it at me. “So, is this the real reason you retired?” “Yeah, I just don’t have the energy to act anymore. The endless chemotherapy has drained the life out of me. And besides…” I smiled. “Too many tabloids published proof saying I was going bald.” This was the first time I took off my wig in front of a camera. Beneath the wig, there was only sparse, patchy hair. My scalp was entirely visible. I looked a bit like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. “You know how vain I am. Always getting photographed like that by you guys—do you think I have no dignity to uphold? “I’m greedy. I want you to grant me seven wishes, and you’ll make seven episodes. How about it?” 3 May 2, 2024 to May 8, 2024. Episode 1 (Part 1). 【By the time you see this video, I will already be dead.】 “Make sure you get my left side more. My fans always say my left profile looks way better than my right.” Caleb was much calmer than he was a week ago, but he told me that after finding out the truth, he cried at home for days and lost three pounds. “I promise I’ll make you look incredibly handsome.” He rubbed his eyes. “Ashton, what is your first wish?” “I want to try hiking Mount Shasta in California.” He immediately nodded. “No problem, I’ll book the tickets right now. But can I ask why you want to go there?” I couldn’t force a smile for the camera. “Victoria and I once made a promise to go there together. Now that the chance is gone, I want to see the place for myself. Don’t they say the mountain can cleanse your soul?” Mount Shasta was far, but not unreachable. After getting off the plane, the high altitude made my body uncomfortable. After a long, exhausting drive, we finally reached the trailhead town. On the way there, Caleb was constantly worrying about my health, giving me all sorts of reminders. I smiled and teased him, “I asked my doctor. He said I don’t have much time left anyway, so I can go wherever I want.” Just one sentence, and the young man’s eyes turned red again. But he cautiously asked, “Ashton, did you and Ms. Sterling part on good terms?” I knew he was asking delicately. The truth was, my divorce from Victoria was loud, messy, and humiliating. But at this moment, as I was preparing to leave this world, I finally had the courage to say it out loud: “In her eyes, it definitely wasn’t on good terms. She, like the rest of you, thought I cheated.” “So you really didn’t cheat, right?” The young man’s eyes sparkled. “I knew I wasn’t wrong about you.” I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I loved that woman so much, how could I possibly look at anyone else?” There’s a downside to newbie vloggers—their emotions fluctuate way too wildly. He just started bawling his eyes out right in front of the camera. Between sobs, he choked out, “The media was trashing you back then, calling you a cheater. How could they?!” I even had to comfort him on camera. Eventually, I had to admit: “Forget it. I’ll tell you the truth. I orchestrated the whole thing myself.” 4 May 2, 2024 to May 8, 2024. Episode 1 (Part 2). 【By the time you see this video, I will already be dead.】 “Six months before the divorce, I was diagnosed with cancer. Back then, it was just one type. The doctors told me that as long as I cooperated with the treatment, there was still a chance of survival. “I only realized later that doctors are mostly kind-hearted, but sometimes they like to lie. “I asked my childhood best friend to put on an act with me, just so I could shake Victoria off as fast as possible. “Don’t let her title fool you. She’s a corporate CEO, ruthless and decisive. But when it came to me, she was incredibly stubborn.” I didn’t say anything more after that. Everyone understood what I meant. Caleb, looking miserable, continued asking, “Man, why didn’t you just tell her the truth about your illness?” “Dying is a painful process. Why drag someone else down with me?” Caleb suddenly said, “I heard on the news recently that CEO Sterling has a new boyfriend.” “Is that so? Then I really should congratulate her.” I meant it sincerely. “She deserves the best.” I endured the nausea churning in my stomach from the bumpy road. “I’m not acting right now. It’s just that when you’re about to die, you really can let go of everything. “I used to joke with Victoria that if she ever found another man, I’d break her legs. But look, didn’t I let go quite easily?” At that moment, our guide suddenly spoke up. “We’ll rest here for the night. The rest of the way has to be done on foot. It’s about a 30-mile trek. But I have to warn you, the altitude here is high. They say it’s 30 miles, but it will feel like much, much more.” On the first day of our hike, our destination was a high-altitude base camp. From there, you could see the alpenglow hit the snow-capped peak. “I suddenly feel like it’s unfair to you, making you risk your life hiking with me just for my selfish desires.” But Caleb shook his head. “Ashton, I know my own body. If I can’t keep going, I won’t push it. Plus, you said you’ve been planning this for months. You even prepared all the gear perfectly.” Fortunately, neither of us suffered severe altitude sickness. We were lucky. On the second day, after camping at the base, I saw the alpenglow. I mimicked the poses I saw online, spreading my arms wide for a photo. I yelled out, “If it’s possible, I hope you all can forget me!” I thought for a second and yelled another sentence, “Victoria, I came here for you! You don’t have to come anymore!” Along the way, we encountered many spiritual seekers and seasoned hikers. We survived a sudden hail storm. The food was terrible. We slept on flimsy, uncomfortable cots. It took us three days to complete the trek. I looked into the camera and gave my concluding thoughts for the episode. “What I didn’t tell you is that when I first planned this trip, I wanted to come with Victoria. Later, when I decided to come alone, my original plan was to come here and commit suicide.” Caleb was so terrified he immediately grabbed my hand. I patted his hand and continued. “Back then, I figured I couldn’t be cured anyway. I might as well die in a glacial lake, on the snowy peak, or just pass away on the journey. “But later, I suddenly didn’t want to die anymore. I wanted to live out my final days properly, so my life wouldn’t have been in vain.” Caleb suddenly asked me, “Do you have any regrets about this first trip?” I nodded. Just thinking about it made my heart race. “My parents spoil me rotten, but I lied to them. I didn’t tell them I was sick. “I even lied and told them I was acting again, shooting a movie out here in California. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. In the end, I was an unfilial son.” 5 June 4, 2024. Episode 2 (Part 1). After returning from Mount Shasta, the altitude sickness and the exhaustion of the trip forced me to recover for a full month before I could contact Caleb again. I also had another chemo session during that time. Every time, I felt it was harder to get out of bed than the last. It felt like all my strength was being siphoned away, pulling me one step closer to death. I wasn’t sure if I could trust this kid I had only met once. If he leaked my first video right now, he would instantly go viral. I was making a gamble—gambling that when faced with a dying man, people tend to discover a little extra conscience. “Ashton, what is your second wish?” “I want everyone to get to know the real me better, and I want to retrace the steps of my past.” Caleb looked at the camera with concern. “With your body in this condition, we can take things slow.” “It’s fine. I naturally made sure I was recovered enough before coming to find you. When a person reaches the end of their life, they become greedy. The list of wishes just keeps growing.” “Your styling today looks great. It’s giving flashbacks to the CW teen drama that made you famous, Do You Remember Me Today?” In the show, I played a fresh college grad with short hair who gets entangled with the CEO of the company he interns at. I smiled and touched my head. “I can change my hairstyles at will now. Pretty handsome, right?” “But you’re getting skinnier and skinnier. Hasn’t anyone around you noticed?” I felt a bit embarrassed. “Victoria and I are divorced, so naturally we don’t see each other. Since I got sick, I’ve seen my parents less and less. But they’re my parents, so video calls are unavoidable. Guess what I told them? I said I was playing the role of a terminally ill patient.” I only dared to tell the truth wrapped in lies. He rubbed his eyes in front of me. “Where do you want to go for this episode?” “I want to go back to the place where I grew up.” It was just a two-hour drive to my hometown. “Ashton, what about your assistant?” My assistant was a sweet, goofy guy. Sometimes when he tagged along with me, it resulted in iconic paparazzi moments. “You mean Mason? I told him to stop following me around.” “So he knows about your condition?” “Hahahaha.” I started laughing at my own words. “Guess what excuse I used? He’s been with me for so long, there’s no way he wouldn’t notice something was off.” I sat calmly in front of the lens. “I lied to him too. I told him I loved Victoria too much, but since the ‘cheating’ scandal forced us apart, I fell into severe depression. I told him I wanted to quit Hollywood to treat my depression.” “Did he believe it?” “Of course not! He and my manager, Marcus, grabbed me and cried, begging to take me to a doctor. I told them to give me some time, that I would go see a shrink myself, and that I’d come back after traveling and clearing my head.” “Do you think they might have figured it out already?” “The fact that I was going bald couldn’t be hidden anyway. I made up those excuses, thinking I was so smart. But one day, Marcus told me he didn’t care if I made him money anymore; he just wanted me to stay alive.” Speaking of this, tears streamed down my face. I wiped the corners of my eyes. “It’s probably because no one dares to bring up these sad topics in front of me, so they haven’t revealed how much they actually know. “Mason, that sweet kid, bought me ten wigs out of his own pocket. He said they were gifts for my therapeutic travels.” I paused. I was currently wearing a face mask and a baseball cap, dressed in the simplest hoodie and jeans, carrying a basic canvas tote bag. Passersby treated me like a complete nobody. I pulled a thermos out of my bag and took a sip. “This was my elementary school.” “Man, you went to Oak Creek Elementary?” I nodded, pointing at a large tree near the playground. “I was daring someone back then. I climbed up and couldn’t get down. I was so scared I cried and peed my pants right there in the tree.” “Ashton, classes are still in session. I doubt the security guard will let us in.” “We won’t go in. I just wanted to look. Let’s not disturb their work. I just wanted one last glance. Once I drink the waters of forgetfulness in the afterlife, I won’t remember any of this anyway. “Man, why are you such a crybaby? Directors should cast you when they need someone to bawl their eyes out.” I pointed to an alley not far from the school. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to see my old neighborhood. I haven’t been back in years.” But as soon as I walked in, I was stunned. I stood frozen in the wind. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Oh wow, they tore it all down.” The phone camera pointed at me trembled slightly. “What do we do now? It looks like my hometown is gone?” I turned my back to the camera. I guess the audience wouldn’t be able to see my expression anyway. Truthfully, I was a bit disappointed. I just couldn’t say it out loud. “Walk a few steps further, I’ll describe it to you from memory. “This used to be an old street. The media always called me a rich kid, and I tried to explain at press events, but no one believed me. “I’m taking this chance to show you guys. I grew up right here. The houses around here were old row houses. My deepest memory is teasing a stray dog, getting chased, and having it bite my butt.” “Huh?” “Luckily it was winter. I lived with my grandparents, and they dressed me in three layers of thick sweatpants. The dog ended up biting a hole through the fabric and pulling the cotton out, but it never touched my skin.” It sounded hilarious and pitiful at the same time. At least Caleb laughed heartily. “Ashton, I really can’t picture you getting chased by a dog.” After we finished joking around, I said, “Let’s go. I’ll take you to see my high school. It’s not far from here either.” I paused my footsteps. “It’s also where I met Victoria.”

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After my parents died, I was taken in by the Millers—my father’s closest friends. On my 16th birthday, Caleb Miller got drunk and kissed me, whispering that I wasn’t allowed to love anyone else. At 18, he talked me into spending the night with him, promising we’d be tangled together for a lifetime. At 24, I wanted a wedding. But he told me he wasn’t the marrying type. After a month of silence, our mutual friends threw a party to try and fix us. That night, Caleb showed up with a girl who looked barely twenty. She had a shy, timid smile that looked exactly like mine did when I was eighteen. Our friend slammed his glass down: “What the hell is Elena to you then, Caleb?” Caleb just scoffed. “Why are you guys overreacting?” “Elena is like a sister to me. Just because she’s lived under my roof for years doesn’t mean I have to put a ring on her finger, right?” 1 As he spoke, he leaned down and kissed the girl’s hair. He looked around the room. “And don’t start rumors about me and Elena. I don’t want my girlfriend getting the wrong idea.” “She’s young. She’s hard to soothe when she’s upset.” Across from him, Silas, who had grown up with us, gritted his teeth. “Caleb, is this some kind of sick joke?” Everyone knew the truth about us. Silas was the only one brave enough to call him out. Caleb ignored him, casually lighting a cigarette. His face remained cold. “Silas, since when did you and Elena get so close? Since when do you handle her battles?” His gaze flicked to me for a fraction of a second before he turned back to pinch his girlfriend’s cheek. “Baby, go wait for me outside. It’s too loud in here. I’ll take you somewhere else in a bit.” The girl nodded timidly and left. Once the door clicked shut, Caleb leaned back and stared at me. “Elena, it was a mutual thing. You keep dragging our friends into this to pressure me into a proposal. Don’t you think that’s pathetic?” Before I could find my voice, he blew a smoke ring and smiled darkly. “I never actually called you my girlfriend, did I?” I looked at the face I had loved for eight years and felt a sudden, chilling sense of vertigo. He was a stranger. Silas stood up, ready to swing. “Are you even human, Caleb?” I held Silas back, my fingers trembling. Caleb’s eyes turned icy. “You want her that bad, Silas? Fine. I’m done with her. She’s all yours.” “After all these years, I’m bored. I’m sure she is too.” The sound of a glass shattering echoed through the room. It was Cillian, sitting silently in the corner. 2 Cillian was the “Ice King” of our group. When I first arrived at the Millers’ at twelve, he was the one who intimidated me most. He was always stoic, always wearing a suit, always a man of few words. Whether Caleb and I were making out or screaming at each other, Cillian never reacted. Until now. He looked at Caleb with a terrifying stillness. “You’ve crossed the line.” “Oh? Are you going to lecture me too?” Caleb sneered. “I didn’t realize everyone was so invested in my family business. Elena, I should praise you. You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He had said those exact words to me when I was sixteen. He had found a love letter in my backpack. It was my birthday. He had looked at me with a smirk. “The valedictorian wrote this? How poetic.” But when the party ended, he cornered me in my room. He pinned me against the door and kissed me—a soft, hungry theft of breath. “Elena,” he had whispered into the crook of my neck, “Don’t you dare love anyone else. You’re mine. Only mine.” Back then, he sounded like a desperate boy. Now, looking at him, the contrast was so violent it made my chest ache. I knew it was over. “Caleb, since everyone is here… let’s settle this once and for all.” He crushed his cigarette. “Go ahead.” My eyes were burning, but I forced myself to look at him. “You’re right. We aren’t anything.” “From now on, we stay out of each other’s lives.” Caleb’s grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. “You’re cutting me off, Elena?” “You have a girlfriend,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my heart. “Keeping your distance from other women is just common sense, isn’t it?” 3 I remembered being seventeen, bringing him a change of clothes after practice. I had caught the head cheerleader cornering him in the locker room. “Caleb, I’ve liked you since middle school. Just give me a chance.” I had hidden in the hallway, listening. “What does you liking me have to do with me?” Caleb’s voice was cold. “Move.” “Don’t be mean,” she pleaded, tears welling up. “It hurts my feelings.” Caleb didn’t soften. He pulled his hand away and looked down at her. “I have someone I love. Keeping my distance is common sense, isn’t it?” The girl froze. “Go. If the girl I love sees this, she’ll get jealous. And she’s impossible to soothe.” I had watched her run away, thinking Caleb was ruthless. But then he had found me and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Did you see enough? Aren’t you going to thank me?” “You’re cruel,” I whispered. He laughed, a rogue’s grin on his face. “Elena, I only love you. So you better only love me. Got it?” He kissed me then, and I tasted mint and adrenaline. It was the first time I felt what it was like to be someone’s absolute priority. 4 Caleb must have remembered that day too. He fell silent, his jaw tight. I walked over to him and slid the ring off my finger. He had given it to me when I turned 22. He told me it was a family heirloom from his mother. A promise. “Here,” I said, placing it on the table. “You should have this back.” His lips trembled. “I don’t take back gifts.” “It’s not appropriate anymore.” He stood up abruptly, not looking at the ring, not looking at me. “My girlfriend is waiting.” It looked like a retreat. The room fell into a heavy silence. Silas tried to comfort me. “Elena, he’s just acting out. He’s throwing a tantrum.” A tantrum? A month ago, right here, I had been ready to propose to him. During a game of Truth or Dare, he picked Truth. I asked him, “Have you ever thought about marriage?” Under the dim lights, Caleb’s expression had gone blank. “Never. Marriage sounds like a prison.” I had frozen. Because I had made it public, he was furious. He left early that night. Now I realized he didn’t fear marriage. He just didn’t want to marry me. We started without a definition, and now, we were ending without a goodbye. 5 Cillian drove me home. He was quiet, and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Suddenly, Silas called. “Elena! Caleb got into a fight! He’s at the bar!” By the time we got there, the dust had settled. I saw Caleb from across the room. Whether it was the adrenaline or the gin, his face was flushed. He was sitting on a velvet sofa, pulling his new girlfriend into his lap. She tucked her head into his chest, and he tilted her chin up to kiss her. Someone who knew us asked, “Caleb, I thought you and Elena were getting serious? Who’s the kid?” Caleb’s face darkened instantly. “Who said I was marrying her?” The guy stammered, “But… this girl looks exactly like Elena—” Caleb slammed his drink down. “Don’t mention that name in front of me again. If you do, leave.” “From now on, this is your sister-in-law. Say hi.” The crowd went silent. No one could bring themselves to address the teenager in his lap. I turned and walked out. I bumped into Silas at the door. “Is he okay? Does he need a hospital?” Silas looked inside and saw Caleb nuzzling the girl’s neck—the same way he used to nuzzle mine. Silas walked back out, swearing under his breath. 6 I didn’t let them drive me home. I walked along the river, memories hitting me like waves. 18 years old. Caleb had promised we’d be together forever. He was the “bad boy” of the school, but for me, he quit every dangerous hobby. He followed me to the same university. He was the “gold standard” boyfriend. When his parents found out about us at 21, his father nearly disowned him. Caleb stood his ground, telling them he was serious about me. He got the ring from his mother and slid it on my finger. “You’re a Miller now.” Silas had asked him once if he’d ever change his mind. Caleb had kicked him. “Only if I’m dead.” Last year, we passed the “seven-year itch.” He held me and said his love was undying. I was the slow-burn type. It took me years to fully open my heart, but once I did, I loved for the long haul. And now, he had moved on, and I was stuck in the past. I remembered taking him to my parents’ graves. He held my hand and promised them: “I’ll take care of her for the rest of my life.” I guess “the rest of his life” only lasted eight years. I wiped the cold tears from my face. My phone buzzed. An email from Doctors Without Borders. My application was approved. I leave in one week. 7 It was my dream. I had been afraid to tell him, afraid of the distance. Now, it wasn’t a problem anymore. The next day, at the hospital, I saw them. The girl was crying in the ER, huddled in Caleb’s arms. “Caleb, it hurts. I shouldn’t have done that last night.” Caleb looked frustrated but tried to soothe her. “My fault.” The doctor sighed. “A ruptured ovarian cyst. You young people need to be more… careful. She’s only 18.” I felt a wave of nausea so strong I thought I’d vomit. “Dr. Lin?” A nurse walked up. “You okay? Did you skip breakfast again?” I shook my head, but Caleb had already spotted me. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Why haven’t you eaten?” He looked genuinely worried. “You’re going to pass out again. Elena, take care of yourself!” He fumbled in his bag and shoved a chocolate bar into my hand. In college, he used to supervise every meal I had because I’d forget to eat during labs. When I fainted once junior year, he stayed by my bed with tears in his eyes. “Elena, you’re going to be the death of me!” Since then, he always kept snacks on him. Just in case. “Caleb… it hurts…” The girl’s whimpering voice snapped me back. I pushed Caleb away. “Your girlfriend needs you.” I turned and walked into my shift. 8 It was pouring when I got off work. I saw Caleb leaning against his car, smoking under a black umbrella. He saw me and put out the cigarette. “I’ll give you a ride.” “No thanks.” He bit his lip. “Aren’t you going to ask me about this morning?” “I’m not interested in other people’s business.” “Elena! Do you have to talk to me like that?” “Caleb, I can’t be friends with an ex. It’s over. Let’s keep some dignity.” “You think I’m chasing you? You’re awfully conceited, Elena.” His fingers were white on the umbrella handle. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I moved to open my Uber door, but he caught my wrist. “Tomorrow is my parents’ 30th anniversary. They want you there.” The Millers had been my family. They treated me like a daughter. “I’ll be there.” “Elena… we haven’t told them we broke up yet. Please. Just for tomorrow.” I nodded. “Fine.”

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The rescue worker’s voice was grim. “The rubble is completely unstable. If we pull one out, the whole thing could pancake and collapse.” Without a second of hesitation, my parents screamed, “Save Savannah first!” My sister echoed them from the dark, screaming, “Save me! Save me first!” The firefighter had repeatedly warned us not to move a muscle during the extraction. But Savannah didn’t listen. She panicked, violently shoving at the debris around her. The shifting weight triggered a collapse, and I was crushed to death under the concrete. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the earthquake. 1 I jolted awake, my heart pounding against my ribs. I grabbed my phone. The date on the screen confirmed it—it was the day the earth would split open. I had exactly two hours. The quake was slated for 2:00 AM. It was midnight. I didn’t waste time thinking. I jammed my feet into my sneakers and bolted out the door. In my past life, the collapse claimed so many lives. Since I was given a second chance, I couldn’t just walk away. Even saving one person was worth it. I started on the ground floor of our apartment complex, hammering on every single door. Once I heard sleepy, confused voices acknowledging me, I moved to the next. By the time I reached the seventh floor and woke the last tenant, I had five minutes left. I sprinted back into my own apartment with two minutes on the clock. In my previous life, I lost my only window to escape because I was desperately trying to wake Savannah up. This time, I’d leave that “privilege” to the mother who loved her most. I threw open my parents’ bedroom door. “Mom! Dad! Earthquake! Get up!” They groaned, squinting at the lights. I glanced at my watch. Forty seconds. “I tried to wake Savannah, but she won’t budge! What do we do?” I cried, feigning panic. My dad scowled. “Who says there’s an earthquake? It’s the middle of the night—” Before he could finish the sentence, the floorboards bucked violently beneath us. “What do we do? Savannah is still asleep!” I yelled. My mom’s face twisted in sheer terror. She sprinted toward my sister’s room, shrieking, “Savannah! Get up, baby! Wake up, it’s an earthquake!” My dad grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the stairs. The quake was ruthless. It gave no one a chance to hesitate. Just as my dad and I burst through the front doors and into the street, a deafening roar shattered the night. The building folded in on itself. Mom and Savannah were buried in the ruins. All around us, the night was filled with the sounds of wailing sirens and screaming neighbors. A high-pitched ringing pierced my ears, my vision blurred, and the memories of my past life flooded my mind. In that life, when the building started to shake, I immediately ran to Savannah’s room. I shook her, pulled her arm, but she was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t wake up. My parents had already made it out. I missed my chance. We were both trapped in the suffocating darkness. When dawn broke, the search and rescue teams finally found us. I could hear my mom sobbing outside, calling out—but only for Savannah. “Hang in there, Savannah! They’re coming for you! You have to hold on!” The rescue worker surveyed the wreckage and delivered the grim news: “The structural integrity is compromised. If we pull one out, the debris will likely shift and crush the other. We recommend extracting the girl on the left first; the load-bearing beams are more stable there.” Savannah and I both heard him. I didn’t even have to guess; I knew Mom wouldn’t choose me. Savannah was the golden child. I was the unwanted second daughter. Sure enough, Mom’s voice was desperate but firm: “Save Savannah. The one on the right. The one in the white shirt.” Savannah began wailing, “Mom, help me! My legs hurt so bad! Save me first, Mom!” I laid there, freezing. Through the cracks in the concrete, I could see my mother’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes were locked solely on my sister. The firefighters moved with extreme caution, trying to save us both. They kept warning Savannah: “Do not move. If you shift your weight, your sister is going to be crushed.” But as they slowly hoisted her up, Savannah ignored them. She started kicking and shoving at the loose cinderblocks around her shoulders. Ignoring the firefighters’ screams to stop, she pushed a massive slab of debris away from herself. The moment she was free, the entire weight of the ceiling crashed down onto my spine. It crushed the air from my lungs. The pain was blinding. “Mom, help me!” I screamed, choking on dust. “Mom, it hurts! Please!” The crew frantically tried to dig through the new collapse to reach me. But then I heard my mother’s voice, cold and hollow: “Don’t bother. Even if you pull her out, she’ll be paralyzed. I don’t have the money or the energy to raise a cripple.” I watched the sliver of daylight above me get permanently blocked out by falling stones. Just like my life, fading to black. I lay in the agonizing dark, waiting for death. When I finally closed my eyes for the last time, I woke up in my bed, hours before the disaster. This time, it was their turn to feel what it’s like to be abandoned. 2 My dad’s frantic shouting snapped me out of my memories. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Dad, watch out for aftershocks! We need to get to the clearing. FEMA and the first responders will be here soon. Mom and Savannah will be okay.” He was trembling, completely shell-shocked. I couldn’t blame him. Anyone would lose their mind during their first catastrophic earthquake. But I wasn’t scared anymore. I had already died in this rubble. Every breath I took now was on borrowed time. The emergency crews arrived quickly. Dad sprinted over, begging them to dig. But our apartment complex was an unrecognizable mountain of twisted steel and concrete. He had no idea where they were buried. But I did. I deliberately pointed the rescue dogs in the opposite direction, leading the crew right to Mrs. Higgins, the elderly woman from the second floor. They dug her out. Two more hours passed. It had been a full six hours since the collapse. Finally, I pointed to a specific mound of rebar. “Dad! I think I hear Mom over here!” Dad flagged down a firefighter. They carefully assessed the shifting mountain of debris. Then, he delivered the tragic news. “The wreckage is heavily intertwined. If we pull one of them out, the cavern will likely collapse on the other.” Such familiar words. Through the gaps in the wreckage, I could see Savannah’s pale, tear-stained face, and Mom’s wide, terrified eyes. Dad was paralyzed with indecision. They were both his world. Who would he choose? Unlike my parents in my past life, he couldn’t make a snap decision. How pathetic. Then, Savannah’s voice pierced the silence. “Dad, save me! I don’t want to die! Dad, I’m going to grow up and get a great job! I’ll pay for your retirement! “Mom is just a stay-at-home housewife! You can always just marry someone else! I’m worth more than her, Dad!” I watched my mother’s face completely shatter. I ducked my head, biting my lip to hide my smile. Surprise, Mom. The precious daughter you worshipped views you as nothing more than a replaceable maid. Dad finally broke. “Save my daughter.” Mom realized she had been abandoned. She shrieked, “William Bennett, don’t you dare think about remarrying! If I die in here, I will haunt you for the rest of your miserable life! “And you, Savannah! I sacrificed everything for you! I can’t believe you’re this selfish!” Savannah’s legs were pinned beneath a beam, and the pain was making her hysterical. “So what if I’m selfish?! I’m telling the truth! I have a future, you don’t! Dad made the smart choice!” The pure, venomous hatred on my mother’s face was an absolute joy to witness. But I couldn’t let Mom die like this. I crawled close to the rubble and cried out, “Mom! Mom, don’t be scared! I’ll make sure they get you out! You have to hold on! Don’t give up, I’m right here!” Such touching, devoted words. Compared to Savannah, I looked like an absolute angel. But only I knew the truth: I just wanted to make sure she survived so her hatred for Savannah could fester. The crew worked for an agonizing hour to cut Savannah free. As they pulled her from the wreckage, my eyes locked onto her legs. They were crushed and turning a horrifying shade of dark purple. I heard one of the paramedics mutter, “Crush syndrome. We’re going to have to amputate.” Savannah was rushed to the ambulance. Miraculously, the cavern didn’t completely cave in on Mom. Maybe the debris settled differently this time, or maybe Savannah was in too much pain to violently kick around like she had in my past life. Either way, Mom survived. They were both transported to the Dallas medical center. Dad rode in Savannah’s ambulance, and I rode with Mom. I was buzzing with anticipation. When Mom woke up, would she despise her favorite child? Or would she somehow forgive the daughter who had literally thrown her away to die? 3 I sat by Mom’s hospital bed, staring at her unconscious face. This was the first time in my life I had ever been able to study her features without her glaring at me. Growing up, she never looked me in the eye. According to Grandma, Mom had desperately wanted a boy to carry on the family name. When they found out I was a girl, she was furious. They didn’t have the money for a third kid, so they just dumped me at my grandma’s dilapidated trailer park in East Texas. Grandma had no choice but to take me in so I wouldn’t starve. I was practically raised on cheap formula and handouts from the neighbors. It wasn’t until I was eight that Grandma forced my dad to bring me back to the city for school. Savannah was two years older. When I started first grade, she was in third. Because I had never been taught to read or write at Grandma’s, I struggled massively. I was always at the bottom of my class. Mom resented my existence. Every day after school, I was treated like Cinderella. Dishes, laundry, mopping the floors—it was all my responsibility. My time to do homework was practically non-existent. Even in middle school, my grades were garbage. Meanwhile, Savannah was an honor roll student. My parents treated her like absolute royalty. My birthday was a month after hers, but I never once got a cake. I wasn’t even allowed to eat a slice of Savannah’s cake, because Mom said my “bad luck” would rub off on her golden child. But now? Savannah’s legs were gone, and her face had been severely lacerated by a jagged piece of rebar. Would they still love her? I watched Mom’s eyelids flutter open. She stared at the ceiling, disoriented, before letting out a massive breath. I immediately leaned in, playing the concerned daughter. “Mom? You’re awake! Are you in pain? I’ll page the nurse.” She grabbed my wrist. Her very first sentence was: “How is your sister?” I almost let my mask slip. “Savannah isn’t doing great,” I whispered softly. “They had to amputate both legs below the knee. And… her face was badly cut up. She hasn’t woken up yet.” Mom went completely silent. She stared straight ahead, her face unreadable. I couldn’t tell if she was grieving or calculating. The day Mom was discharged, Savannah finally woke up. She lay in her hospital bed, staring at Mom—who was very much alive—with a mix of panic and guilt. Dad was out talking to FEMA about emergency housing vouchers. Savannah still didn’t realize her legs were gone. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist yet, and she hadn’t seen a mirror to realize her face was marked with two massive, jagged scars. “Mom…” Savannah started, her voice trembling. “I’m glad you’re okay. We’re both alive, that’s what matters, right? Don’t be mad at me… I was just so scared in the dark.” Mom’s expression was incredibly dark. The absolute terror of being abandoned to die wasn’t something you just brushed off. I stepped up to Mom and gently linked my arm through hers. “Mom, the doctor said you shouldn’t stand for too long. Sit down. If the rescue workers hadn’t gotten to you in time, I don’t know what I would have done…” I trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. It worked like a charm. Mom looked down at Savannah, a flash of pure disgust crossing her eyes. Savannah glared at me with sheer venom. “Harper Bennett, shut up! Stop trying to turn her against me! Mom will never love you!” In front of our mother, that statement was the final nail in the coffin. Mom suddenly turned to me, gripping my hands tightly, her eyes welling with tears. “Harper, I am so sorry. I was a terrible mother to you. But I promise, things are going to change. I’m going to make it up to you, every single day.” I squeezed her hands back, offering a watery smile. Then, I tilted my head just enough so only Savannah could see the vicious, triumphant smirk on my face. But internally, I was cold. We’ll see how long that promise lasts, Mom. 4 At dinner time, Dad returned to the hospital with three takeout boxes. He handed one to me, one to Mom, and kept one for himself. None for Savannah. “Where’s mine?” she snapped. Dad didn’t even look up as he opened his styrofoam container. “You just got out of major surgery and you’ve been in a coma for days. The doctor said you’re strictly on a liquid diet. I’ll get you some broth from the cafeteria later.” Savannah froze. “What surgery? What are you talking about?” The three of us stopped eating. She really didn’t know. When no one answered, the panic set in. Her voice spiraled into a hysterical shriek. “Tell me! What surgery did I have?!” Mom slammed her fork down, clearly out of patience. She marched over to the bed and ripped the hospital blanket back. Where Savannah’s legs should have been, the mattress was flat and empty. Savannah’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. Tears began streaming down her face. It was a total, soundless psychological break. But Mom wasn’t done. She pulled out her phone, opened the camera app, and shoved the screen right into Savannah’s face. Savannah saw the jagged, hideous scars crisscrossing her cheeks. She completely lost her mind. She clutched her face, screaming so loudly a nurse ran in. “Keep it down! This is a recovery ward! You’re disturbing the other patients!” Savannah’s face was ashen. She violently shook her head, whispering, “No. No, this isn’t real. They pulled me out! How is this possible?!” I quietly ate my mashed potatoes, watching the standoff between them. The resentment in Mom’s heart ran deep. Being told she was a worthless housewife by the child she worshipped had broken something inside her. Mom crossed her arms and sneered. “Did you really think you were going to walk out of that rubble and go back to your perfect little life? “You told your dad to find a new wife? Look at you! If your dad left me, he’d leave you in a heartbeat. Who wants to take care of half a person? “I gave you everything, and you left me to die like a dog. You make me sick.” Dad hastily put down his food and walked over to Mom, desperate to play the loyal husband. “Linda, honey, I never wanted to leave you. She was just screaming and I panicked. My heart breaks for her, that’s all.” Mom shot him a venomous glare. “When I was buried, Harper was the only one screaming that she wouldn’t give up on me. Don’t treat me like an idiot.” They kept arguing. I finished my dinner in peace. Since our apartment was a pile of rubble, FEMA hooked Dad up with a temporary trailer in a disaster relief park outside the city limits. When Savannah was finally discharged, we moved into the cramped aluminum box. Because of her amputations, Savannah required round-the-clock care. Mom refused to touch her. Dad had to go back to his construction job. Which meant the burden fell squarely on me. Savannah seemed to take a sick pleasure in bossing me around, making me empty her bedpan and fetch her water. I quickly grew tired of the game. One afternoon, Savannah yelled that she needed to use the bathroom. I stood outside by the hose, scrubbing a pot, pretending I couldn’t hear her. Dad was at work. Mom was at the grocery store. It was just the two of us. A few minutes later, I heard a massive thud. Mom pulled up in the driveway just as I ran inside. We both stopped dead in the doorway. Savannah had tried to drag herself to the toilet and fallen. She was lying on the linoleum, covered in her own urine and feces. Mom gagged and immediately stepped backward out the door. She stood on the porch, taking deep breaths of fresh air, before finally forcing herself back inside. Dad pulled up in his truck right then. He ignored the smell, waving a piece of paper at me. “Harper, I talked to the district. I got you a spot at the high school in the next town over.” I nodded and immediately left the trailer, leaving Mom and Savannah alone in the mess. Humiliated beyond belief, Savannah started shoving Mom away when she tried to pick her up. She got filth all over Mom’s shirt. But Mom gritted her teeth, dragged her into the plastic shower stall, and started hosing her down. Savannah sobbed the entire time. Mom didn’t say a word, but she meticulously scrubbed her clean. Blood is thicker than water. A mother’s instinct to care for her broken child never truly vanishes. But what about me? I thought bitterly. Why was it so easy for her to throw me away?

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Three days after I ran away from our arranged marriage, my fiancé committed suicide in our bridal suite. He left his entire estate to me. While packing up his belongings, I found a room with walls completely covered in photos of me, and the floor stained with mottled spots of his blood. His assistant told me, “Mr. Hayes loved you for many years.” “His depression was incredibly severe. Only by looking at you, by thinking of you, could he find a fleeting moment of peace…” Every single detail was shocking, suffocating, yet inexplicably heartbreaking. So, when given a second chance, as my childhood best friend urged me to flee the country, I smiled and refused. “I’m not leaving.” I wanted to see just how foolish this man—who loved me more than his own life—truly was. 1 Carter Hayes died on the third day after I ran away from our wedding. My father and brother had just walked out of his sprawling estate, faces full of apologetic excuses for my disappearance, when they received the news: Carter had slit his wrists. Resuscitation failed. He was dead. In a will drafted long before the wedding, he left every cent of his fortune to me. Halfway across the world in a villa in Tuscany, my expression slowly froze as I listened to my brother’s voice through the phone. In my eyes, Carter was just a ruthless corporate shark who had suddenly shown up at my family’s door, strong-arming us into an arranged marriage. We were total strangers. Yet, piece by piece, the aftermath made it seem as though he had been deeply, desperately in love with me for years. 2 At the request of his lawyers, I rushed back to the States. My hands were stiff as I accepted Carter’s urn. His background had always been a mystery; he had no living relatives to speak of. His assistant stared mournfully at the heavy square box and spoke to me in a hushed voice. “Mr. Hayes loved you for a very long time. “His depression was severe. The only thing that kept him tethered to this earth was you. “I thought that once he finally married you, the darkness would lift. I never imagined…” His voice broke. There was no blame in his tone, but my heart twisted painfully in my chest. The assistant handed me a key. “This is the estate Mr. Hayes prepared for you. “He designed the master suite himself.” The place where he took his own life. 3 The estate was massive. Beyond the manicured emerald lawns, there was even a private equestrian paddock. The interior was decorated in my absolute favorite shade of sapphire blue. The furniture, the artwork, the layout—every single detail catered perfectly to my tastes. Deep inside, there was a locked room. When I opened it, I found the walls plastered with my photos. I looked closely. They spanned from my sophomore year of college all the way to the present. Almost every moment of my life had been captured by this man’s lenses. On the hardwood floor lay the mottled, dark stains of his blood, carrying a faint, metallic scent. It was terrifying and suffocating, yet I felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow. And then, I felt a spark of anger. If he loved me, why didn’t he just say so? He barged into my family’s home like a tyrant, demanding a corporate marriage. How could I have ever felt safe marrying a man like that? And now, leaving behind this horrific scene… did he want me to be drowned in guilt, forced to remember him for the rest of my life? Keep dreaming, I thought. I donated his entire inheritance to charity, including the estate. The cleaning crew tore my photos off the walls, tossing them onto the bloodstained floor… And just like that, the brief, legendary life of Carter Hayes was entirely erased from the world. 4 It took me three days to accept the fact that I had been reborn. Three days ago, Carter had just arrived at my family’s home in Chicago, demanding an alliance through marriage. His methods were practically extortion. My childhood best friend, Ethan, heard the news and immediately told me to run. He offered to hide me in Europe until the dust settled. In my past life, that was exactly what I did. But in this life, remembering that wall of photos and the horrifying pool of blood, I calmly shook my head. “I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m going to go find him and ask him exactly why he wants to marry me.” 5 Carter’s tech empire was massive. When I arrived at his headquarters, he was still in a board meeting. His assistant personally came down to the lobby to escort me up, asking me to wait in his private office. “The boss will be right down.” I gave a soft, “Mhm.” Carter arrived almost instantly. Before I could even finish my cup of coffee, he strode in, his steps hurried as he absentmindedly fastened a loose cufflink. The moment he saw me, his footsteps halted. “Ms. Sterling,” he greeted, his voice perfectly even. His face was cold and distant, as if looking at a complete stranger. His icy demeanor left me speechless. I thought for a moment before asking softly: “Mr. Hayes, my father tells me you want to marry me. Why?” “I wanted to, so I did. I don’t need a reason.” Me: “…” How was I supposed to respond to that? I slowly stood up and grabbed my purse. “Then I’ll be going.” Carter’s expression cracked. A rare flash of panic crossed his face. “You’re leaving already?” I stared at him blankly. Under my gaze, the color slowly drained from his face, and a heavy shroud of self-loathing seemed to settle over his shoulders. Yet, he still forced himself to step aside to let me pass. If I didn’t already know for a fact that this man was obsessed with me, I would have thought he was playing a cruel joke on me… I let out a soft sigh, stepping forward and gently grabbing his sleeve. “How about we grab dinner together?” 6 The dynamic between Carter and me clearly terrified his assistant. As I was leaving, the assistant kept apologizing. “The boss isn’t very good at talking to women. Please don’t be angry with him, Ms. Sterling.” “I’m not angry.” I offered him a bright smile. “Actually, I quite like him… his face is exactly my type.” The office door wasn’t fully closed. Through the crack, I clearly saw Carter touch his own face, utterly stunned. I chuckled softly and told the assistant: “I’m having dinner with your boss tonight. Remind him not to stand me up.” The assistant nodded frantically, as if terrified I would take it back. I walked out of the corporate tower in my heels. The moment I stepped outside, my phone rang. Seeing the name Ethan Brooks on the screen, I calmly hit ‘Decline’ and stared blankly at the clouds drifting overhead. 7 Ethan treated me well, and he genuinely cared about my well-being. But whether it was a childhood friend or a casual buddy, they would eventually fade into the long, winding road of life. Just like in my past life. He eventually found a woman he loved, had a child, and learned to keep his distance from me. In the end, when I was trapped in the mountains with an expedition team and called him for help, his wife answered the phone. She mocked me relentlessly, calling me a pathetic, aging spinster who couldn’t find a husband. While she hurled insults at me, Ethan was right beside her, completely silent. I died on that mountain. I never knew how he felt about it. 8 Carter arrived incredibly early for dinner. The atmosphere at the table was frigid. I tried my hardest to carry the conversation, but he was like a conversation-ending machine, showing zero enthusiasm for anything I brought up. Exhausted, I set my knife and fork down heavily on the table. “Mr. Hayes, the way you’re acting makes me feel like you have zero interest in starting a family with me.” Carter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” “You know that’s not what I want to hear.” I was genuinely frustrated now. “You’ve run a massive corporation for years. You’ve practically never lost a negotiation, and your insight into human nature is flawless. Yet here you are, acting like this… “It makes me feel like you don’t care about me at all.” Carter’s face went deadly pale. His fingertips dug so hard into his palms that faint traces of blood began to seep through his skin. “Please don’t overthink it,” he said, his voice strained. “I just… I’ve never been this close to you before. I’m not used to it.” His sudden, almost confessional words caught me completely off guard. His nervousness, his profound loneliness, and the blood on his palms—none of it was fake. I suddenly remembered what his assistant had told me in my past life: “His depression was severe. Only by looking at you could he find a fleeting moment of peace…” “Mr. Hayes.” Suddenly deeply curious, I looked him in the eye. “Did we know each other before all this?” 9 Carter’s thin lips trembled. His eyes instantly darted away, fixing on the glass window of the restaurant. “Yes.” “When?” I pressed, but Carter clamped his mouth shut. No matter what I asked, he refused to say another word. Feeling a bit defeated, I lost my enthusiasm and focused on my steak, abandoning the conversation. Carter stayed silent too, seemingly unaware that the atmosphere had turned sour. He just stared blankly at my lips and my neck. His gaze followed the path of the red wine down my throat, then froze, restrained by his own strict manners. I shot him a glare. He panicked and turned his head away so fast he bit his own lip. A bead of bright red blood welled up. I sighed. “If you want to look at me, just look. Stop sneaking glances. “We’re getting married soon, Carter. Can you please just do things out in the open?” He had taken thousands of photos of me, hired people to watch me, and probably bribed my family’s maid… If he hadn’t died so tragically in my past life, I would have called the cops and had him arrested for stalking. But his assistant had told me the truth. Carter was sick. When dealing with someone who is ill, you have to be patient. I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Ignoring his instantaneous, rigid shock, I dipped a napkin in my water glass and gently wiped the blood from his palm. “Your hands are too handsome to be ruined like this. Stop digging your nails in, okay?” Carter didn’t answer. He just stared at my face. After a long, agonizing silence, he asked in a low whisper: “Are you… willing to marry me now?” “Did you ever give me a choice to say no?” His throat moved tightly. “Actually, if you don’t want to, you can…” “Run away? Or storm into your office, point my finger in your face, and scream that I’ll never marry you?” I locked eyes with him. “If I do that, I’ll be fine. But Carter, what would happen to you?” The answer was obvious. He would die. In my past life, I couldn’t understand how a man could be so weak and pathetic that a mere canceled wedding would push him to end his own life without even demanding to see me. But now… I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying again. 10 Carter was an undeniable genius. His business acumen was ruthless, yet his background was a total void. His rivals dug for years and found nothing, forced to watch as he seized the tech boom and skyrocketed to the top of the billionaire ladder. With a smile and a handshake, he suffocated the old-money elites of Chicago. Yet this brilliant, powerful man had thrown his life away in his prime over a woman. In my past life, Carter became the laughingstock of the corporate world. Thanks to rival smear campaigns, his legacy was dragged through the mud. I refused to let that happen again. On the drive home, my mind raced. I glanced at Carter, who was driving with an emotionless mask, and decided I needed to have a serious sit-down with his assistant. I honestly had no idea how to handle this guy. And then there was his illness… Was there really no cure?

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A few days before the wedding, our wedding planner scheduled a full dress rehearsal for me and my fiancé. The moment my fiancé scooped me up into his arms, his younger sister suddenly burst into tears. “Ew, Carter, why are you two being so gross?! Why are you hugging her in front of everyone? Are her legs broken? Can’t she walk by herself?” Carter immediately set me down to comfort his sister, then demanded that I walk to the getaway car on my own. It’s a strong tradition in my family that the bride’s feet shouldn’t touch the ground on her wedding day before she gets into the car. My parents argued fiercely on my behalf, but Carter, my boyfriend of three years, actually demanded we postpone the wedding. “Chloe hates it when I do that. If you insist on clinging to this superstitious nonsense, then we’ll just push the wedding back!” 1 Both sides of the family stared at Chloe in shock. Isn’t a groom carrying his bride the most natural thing in the world? “Why is she so special?! Are her legs broken? Can’t she walk?!” Chloe screamed angrily. Whispers broke out among the guests. “It’s a tradition that the bride’s feet don’t touch the ground on her wedding day,” my mom said, trying to smooth things over with a tight smile. “Chloe, sweetie, when you get married someday, it’ll be the same for you!” “I don’t care! I forbid Carter from carrying her out! If she wants to get married, she can walk her own lazy self! Otherwise, I’m never speaking to you again, Carter!” Chloe yelled stubbornly. I stared at Carter in disbelief. His worried gaze was entirely focused on Chloe. Then, the arms holding me suddenly loosened. I was dropped heavily to the ground, nearly twisting my ankle. My carefully chosen designer heels slammed into the damp pavement, and the hem of my pristine white wedding dress was instantly splattered with mud. Much like my mood at that exact moment. “Oh no!” My mom rushed forward, snatching up the hem of my dress. “Why did you drop her? Thank goodness this is just a rehearsal. You absolutely cannot do this on the actual wedding day!” Everyone crowded around, asking if I had sprained my ankle. Carter, however, was busy wrapping his arms around Chloe, coaxing her in a low voice. “It’s okay, baby, I won’t carry her. I’ll make her walk, okay?” “Hmph,” Chloe scoffed. “Then promise me you’ll never carry her again!” Never carry me again? Are we getting married, or becoming frat brothers? “Okay, okay, whatever you say,” my fiancé agreed immediately to her absurd demand. Chloe peered over Carter’s shoulder, shooting me a triumphant, provocative smirk. I had heard Carter mention he had a “cute” younger sister, but I never imagined her “cuteness” manifested like this. “Let’s just let it go. It’s only a rehearsal, and Chloe is still young. Don’t hold it against her,” my future in-laws chimed in, trying to excuse her behavior. My parents and I exchanged a loaded look. Swallowing my frustration, we continued with the rehearsal. Next came the altar. Under the resentful glare of his sister, the officiant prompted the groom to kiss the bride. Carter glanced at Chloe and said, “Let’s just skip this part.” Watching him cater entirely to Chloe’s every whim, the last shred of hope I had for this relationship shattered. After the rehearsal dinner, Carter and I were escorted by a group of friends to the brand-new house we had just bought together. But to my utter shock, Chloe had beaten us there. She was currently lying barefoot on our brand-new marital bed. My future mother-in-law hurried over to pull her up, whispering, “What are you doing?” Chloe was pulled off the bed, only to huff and aggressively bounce right back onto it. Her bare feet left faint, dusty prints all over the expensive silk duvet cover. “What’s the big deal? I can’t even lie on my brother’s bed now?! I was just testing it out to see if it was comfortable for them!” The relatives standing in the doorway fell dead silent. Even the most clueless person knows that the marital bed is sacred territory for the newlyweds. You don’t just jump on it. Especially not when you’re a twenty-two-year-old adult. I turned to Carter, demanding an explanation. Instead, he looked at Chloe with sickening fondness. “Chloe is right. My home is her home, and everything in it belongs to her! Your sister-in-law is going to spoil you just as much as I do. She won’t be mad. Right, Harper?” 2 That last sentence was directed at me. It was laughable. I had promised him in the past that I’d be a good sister-in-law, but I had no idea his sister lacked any concept of basic boundaries. I didn’t answer him. Instead, I yanked back the duvet that was bunched up in the middle of the bed. Where there were supposed to be decorative rose petals, the mattress was covered in empty peanut shells. Worse, lined up perfectly down the dead center of the king-sized mattress was a row of tiny, potted cactus plants, physically dividing the bed in half. The guests gasped, whispering loudly. “Cacti on the bed? What kind of weird tradition is this?” “How are they supposed to sleep? This is clearly meant to keep them apart! The groom’s family is completely out of line!” “Carter, care to explain what your family is trying to pull here?” I demanded, staring him down. “Uh…” Carter finally looked a little embarrassed. “Don’t yell at my brother!” Chloe shouted, standing on the bed and glaring down at me. “Carter promised me he wouldn’t carry you anymore! I put those there so you wouldn’t try to crawl all over him in the middle of the night. If you aren’t afraid of getting pricked, go ahead and try!” The rage I had been suppressing all day finally boiled over. I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Carter, did you authorize this?” “No… Harper, listen to me, I’ll take the cacti off…” I ignored him, turning on my heel and walking toward the guest bedroom. Sure enough, the room we had planned to decorate as a nursery was already packed with Chloe’s belongings. A pink canopy, pink bedding, and a massive, framed photo of her and Carter hugging playfully on the nightstand. It was sickening. “Harper, it’s just a minor thing. Do you really need to throw a tantrum over this?” Carter nagged, trailing closely behind me. “What about this?” I pointed at the guest room. “What is the meaning of this?” The guests had followed us down the hall and were peering inside. “Do you have a problem with it?” Chloe’s bratty voice echoed from behind us. “My brother and I agreed a long time ago: wherever he goes, I go. His house will always have a room for me. So, I moved in. Right, Carter?” Carter looked guilty. He had never mentioned a word of this to me. But he quickly rallied to defend her. “Yes, Harper, I did promise Chloe. The guest room is empty anyway, what’s the big deal if she stays here? You’re her sister-in-law now, stop being so petty!” By the end of his sentence, he seemed to have convinced himself he was in the right. His tone shifted to full-blown accusation. It was a truly unforgettable scene. I nodded slowly, a cold smile forming on my lips. I turned to the videographer we had hired for the rehearsal. “Please make sure you’re getting all of this on camera.” The cameraman nodded, panning his lens around the room, documenting the entire circus. “Mommy, what’s this?” A little boy’s innocent voice suddenly grabbed everyone’s attention. We all turned to see a seven-year-old nephew walking out of the master bathroom, dangling a bright red thong from his fingers. The adults flushed with secondhand embarrassment. One of my aunts pulled me aside, whispering, “Harper, is that yours?” My face went ghost white. We hadn’t even officially moved in yet. I had never slept here. Obviously, it wasn’t mine. Could it be? I whipped my head toward Carter. “What are you doing?!” Chloe shrieked, lunging forward and snatching the underwear out of the kid’s hand. “Don’t touch other people’s things!” Realizing everyone was staring at her in horror, she pouted. “What are you all looking at? Haven’t you ever seen underwear before? I just changed out of it. I was going to ask my brother to wash it for me.” She looked at me, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across her face. “Whenever my brother is home, he always washes my underwear for me. You wouldn’t stop doing that just because you got a wife, would you, Carter?” 3 “No, of course not. Nothing’s going to change,” Carter promised without missing a beat. “Just leave it there. I’ll wash it when I have a second.” I stood there, paralyzed. A twenty-five-year-old man washing his twenty-two-year-old sister’s thongs. And apparently, it was a regular occurrence. In what universe is this normal? Chloe looked at me, practically glowing with the thrill of victory. “Well, I’ve seen it all now. What kind of sister-in-law is this? Changing into a thong in her brother’s bridal suite and demanding he wash it? Have you no shame?!” Someone in the crowd finally snapped. “Seriously! What sister-in-law moves in with the newlyweds?!” My relatives, unable to hold their tongues any longer, unleashed a barrage of insults. “Exactly! This is beyond crossing the line. She won’t let the groom carry the bride, she’s trying to ruin the wedding night, and she’s hijacking their home. Do you have any decency?” Someone else chimed in brutally, “She doesn’t want her brother sleeping with his wife because she clearly wants to sleep with him herself!” Hearing the venomous insults, Chloe burst into dramatic tears and threw herself into Carter’s arms. “Carter! You promised you’d still be good to me after you got married! Are you just going to let them bully me?!” Carter wrapped his arms protectively around her, glaring at me. “Harper! Do your relatives have zero class?” I laughed out loud, pointing directly at the balcony. “My relatives have plenty of class. If this were any other family, they would have thrown both of you off that balcony by now!” “Harper!” Carter’s voice was laced with a dark warning. “We’ve been together for three years. We fought so hard to get here. Are you really going to treat my sister like this?” Those three years. They really hadn’t been easy. Carter and I had met at our tech firm, supporting each other through grueling promotions and endless overtime. We had finally made it to the finish line. Out of respect for the time we had invested, I decided to give him one last chance. “Carter,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “I am just a normal woman. I want a normal wedding, where we follow every standard tradition, without skipping a single step. And I expect us to have our own private space as a married couple. So, I am asking you to have your sister move her things out of our house.” “If you can agree to that, I am willing to try and move past this. If you can’t…” I bit my lip, the memories of the last three years flashing through my mind. My eyes burned, but the final, devastating words refused to leave my throat. “Save it,” Carter interrupted coldly. “Chloe is my sister. She doesn’t like it when I carry you, and she doesn’t like it when I kiss you in public. So we accommodate her. Why are you so obsessed with these trivial details?! How does her living here negatively impact us?!” “If you love me, you have to accept everything about me! If you can’t handle it, then the wedding is off! We’ll postpone it. Come back and apologize to my sister when you’ve finally figured things out!” I nodded slowly, staring at the two of them clutching each other. Unbidden tears blurred my vision. I thought we were finally getting our happily ever after. I never imagined today would be the day it all ended. “She isn’t the one in the way. I’m the one getting in the way of whatever twisted thing you two have going on. I’m out.” I turned my back on them and walked out the door. “Harper is absolutely right. Who would want to marry into this freak show? You two just stay together forever!” My relatives spat, following closely behind me. Carter yelled furiously from the living room, “What are you implying?! She’s my sister! I won’t let you talk about her like that!” His mother tried to grab my arm to stop me, but my aunts shoved her away, shielding me as we exited the house. When we got downstairs, we ran into my parents, who had just returned from walking some guests to their cars. Hearing the outrage from our family, my dad’s face turned purple with rage. He was ready to storm upstairs and tear the place apart. I gently shook my head. Let it go. Consider it my final act of grace for the three years I wasted. As soon as I got home, I sent a mass text to all my friends and family, officially canceling the wedding. Unfortunately, making a clean break was apparently just wishful thinking on my part. Carter and I worked for the same tech company, just in different departments. When I showed up for work on Monday, it was inevitable that I would run into him in the lobby. Chloe had both arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pressing herself against him in an intimate goodbye embrace. Anyone walking by would have assumed they were a couple. Seeing me, Chloe dramatically rolled her eyes in disgust. I ignored her and walked straight toward the elevators. Carter immediately chased after me. “Harper! Have you realized you were wrong yet? I love you, but I only have one sister. I have to prioritize her feelings. Our wedding is supposed to be the day after tomorrow. If you go apologize to her right now, we can still fix this!” “She’s studying for the civil service exam and needs an iPad for her online courses. You should buy her an iPad Pro as an apology gift. If you do that, I’ll put in a good word for you, and I promise she’ll forgive you!” He offered this advice as if he were bestowing a grand prize upon me. 4 His staggering sense of entitlement actually made me laugh. “Carter, don’t you think your sister’s attachment to you is completely unnatural?” I asked, trying to be helpful one last time. “What’s unnatural about it?!” Carter glared at me, his brows furrowed in anger. “People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere! My sister and I grew up together. You’re an only child; you could never understand a bond like ours!” I shook my head, deciding he was a lost cause, and stepped into the elevator. A half-hour later, my phone rang. It was the local police precinct. “Is this Harper Sterling? You are a suspect in a hit-and-run. We need you to come down to 4th and Elm immediately!” I was stunned. After clarifying with the officer three times, I finally understood: the only car registered in my name had hit a pedestrian. But that car was a wedding gift from my parents. I hadn’t even driven it yet. It was supposed to be parked in the underground garage of the house Carter and I had bought. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the siblings were involved. A surge of pure fury ignited in my chest. I didn’t waste another second. I hailed a cab and rushed to the scene. My brand-new, $60,000 white BMW—the one my parents had just bought me—was sitting pitifully in the middle of the intersection. The front end was completely smashed in; it didn’t look like a new car at all. A few yards away, a black sedan was flipped onto its roof. A man and a woman had already been pulled from the wreckage, covered in blood, lying on the asphalt waiting for the ambulances. The moment the crowd saw me approaching the police, they swarmed me, shouting accusations. “Think you can just run people over because you drive a luxury car?!” “Yeah, and then you try to pull a hit-and-run! Have fun in prison!” “Were you the one driving?” The police officer asked, his tone severe. “It was her! I saw a woman behind the wheel!” a bystander yelled. “Wait, I thought the driver had blonde hair and a white jacket?” someone else questioned, looking confused. “What do you know? She could have taken off a wig and changed clothes!” the first person argued back. It clicked instantly. Blonde hair, white jacket. That was the exact outfit Chloe had been wearing in the lobby this morning. Carter had taken the keys to my car without asking and let his sister drive it. I opened my mouth to speak, but Carter suddenly sprinted out of the crowd and grabbed my arm. He looked at the officer and nodded frantically. “It was her! I am so sorry, my girlfriend made a terrible mistake, but I’ll make sure she takes full responsibility!” “Wow, what a stand-up guy,” someone in the crowd praised him. “Way better than her!” “Right? Female drivers are a menace to society. Long hair, short brains!” a man sneered. My anger spiked to astronomical levels. “I didn’t—” Before I could defend myself, Carter dragged me away from the cops, pulling me behind a fire truck. “Harper, please, you have to take the fall for this! You know Chloe hasn’t passed her driving test yet. She was driving without a license!” “If they find out it was her, her life is over! She’ll have a criminal record and she’ll never be able to take the civil service exam! Are you trying to destroy her?!” “If you just confess, it won’t be a big deal! We’ll just pay a fine, maybe you do a little community service. I promise, if you take the fall for my sister, she’ll forgive you for what you did at the rehearsal! As soon as this blows over, we’ll get married. My family won’t even hold this against you!” He then raised his voice so the bystanders could hear. “Harper, just confess! The courts are lenient if you tell the truth! Go apologize to those people, you’re the one who was driving recklessly! If you show some remorse, maybe they won’t press charges!” The crowd nodded approvingly, pulling out their phones to record me. Being publicly framed and humiliated in front of nearly a hundred people pushed my rage past the breaking point. But strangely, hitting that absolute peak of anger made my mind go completely, terrifyingly calm. I quietly hit the ‘record’ button on my phone, keeping it hidden by my side.

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After my terminal cancer diagnosis. In the hospital room, the weather was beautiful one day. For once, I took the time to put on some makeup. I snapped a close-up selfie. “Do I look pretty today?” Many strangers left likes and kind comments. Then, Liam Kensington’s younger sister jumped into the comment section. “Ugly as hell. Did you really think putting on makeup would make my brother change his mind? You don’t deserve him.” After a while, I replied anyway. “I don’t need him to change his mind.” 1 The attending physician let out a heavy sigh. “Where is your family?” I shook my head. “I don’t have any family.” “None? How is that possible?” “They’re very busy. They don’t have time to worry about me. Doctor, I’m heading back to my room.” Leaving the doctor sighing heavily behind me, I returned to the ward. The older woman in the bed next to mine—Martha—kindly checked on me. “How did it go, honey? Any improvement?” I shook my head. “It’s getting worse.” But I wasn’t too sad about it. Martha and the family member of the patient by the window both froze. I could see the pity welling up in their eyes. It was almost time for dinner. Suddenly, I didn’t want to eat the cafeteria food today. The man Martha was caring for—her husband—also complained that the hospital food was bland. I pulled two fifty-dollar bills from my wallet. “Martha, when you go home to cook later, could you buy some extra beef? I’d really love some homemade beef stew.” She was stunned for a second. “Okay. I’ll make a massive pot of it today. Don’t buy anything from the cafeteria, honey. I’ll make enough for all of us to share.” Martha went home to cook. 2 By noon, our hospital room was filled with the rich, savory aroma of beef stew and carrots. The meat was braised until it was meltingly tender. As I ate, tears began to drop silently into my bowl. I simply raised the bowl higher to hide my face. “Slow down, there’s plenty more. I brought the whole slow cooker,” Martha said gently. I didn’t lower my bowl until my eyes were completely dry. In the end, I didn’t have a second serving. In my memories, whenever I refused to eat as a little girl, my mom would make me beef stew. The carrots my mom picked out were always incredibly sweet. Since she passed away, I had never tasted anything like it again. Today, Martha’s cooking brought back a flavor I hadn’t experienced in years. She refused to take the hundred dollars. So, I used a delivery app to order a huge basket of fresh fruit for the room, sharing it with everyone. Our room was unofficially known as the “Death Ward.” All three of us had been diagnosed with terminal bone cancer. While massaging her husband’s legs, Martha suddenly sighed. “Honey, you should ask for a room transfer.” I looked at her, confused. “That bed of yours… it’s bad luck. The last person…” I understood. The last person in this bed didn’t leave the hospital alive. I heard she was a successful female executive in her early thirties. I shook my head. “I don’t believe in superstitions.” Actually, there were VIP suites available, and the doctor had recommended one to me. But I had gone to look at them. They had every amenity you could ask for, but the private rooms were too cold and desolate. I preferred this shared room. Living here, I could listen to people chat every day. It felt grounded, full of ordinary, everyday life. After guarding an empty, massive estate for three years, I was thoroughly sick of the loneliness. I yearned for the warmth of human connection. 3 When Liam Kensington called, I was sleeping. “You’re not home?” I opened my eyes, my voice thick with sleep. “Yeah,” I replied flatly. “I brought Seraphina over. Don’t cause trouble for her.” I didn’t argue. I just said, “Okay.” “You’re agreeing that easily this time?” “Is there anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.” “Hanging up?” he scoffed. “Evelyn Monroe, if you try to play nice to my face and stab her in the back again, I swear I won’t let you get away with it.” I didn’t bother listening to the rest. I hung up. I stared at the muted TV screen. Seraphina was Liam’s mistress. A woman he kept on the side. She was presented to him at a corporate gala. In the past, there had been similar setups, but Liam had never taken the bait. Yet, Seraphina—with her elegant, Southern-belle charm—succeeded. Rumor had it she performed a captivating contemporary ballet routine at the charity ball, winning over everyone in the room. And she successfully climbed into Liam’s bed. I didn’t understand. Why? Liam hadn’t even been drinking that night. How did they just end up together? Since I was a kid, people always told me I was a bit slow to catch on. Before all this, I never once doubted Liam’s love for me. We were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. When we were just kids, he promised he would marry me. By the time I found out he had been keeping Seraphina for a while, I was trembling. Disbelieving. It felt like my entire world had collapsed. I threw fits. I screamed. We fought. But the more I fought, the more impatient and disgusted his gazes became. Eventually, he gave all his gentleness to Seraphina. I thought maybe I was just getting old. But I was only twenty-six. Liam forbade me from seeing Seraphina. He didn’t even allow the staff to mention her name around me. But eventually, I did see her. And after that meeting, Seraphina had a miscarriage. Word was, it had been a baby boy. Liam was the first to slap me. Then, his mother, Mrs. Kensington, slapped me ten times across the face. Even though I swore I didn’t do it, not a single person believed me. If this were the medieval era, I would have been banished to the dungeon. After that, I was never invited to the Kensington family dinners again. I was left entirely alone in a massive, empty estate. Liam never came home. During those cold, lonely days, I would occasionally dream. I dreamed of my late parents. I dreamed of when Liam and I were young, of the sunny afternoon we first met. He had said, “Evelyn Monroe. Your name sounds really pretty.” I would wake up with my face soaked in tears. I’d slowly pull back the curtains and waste another day away. At first, I couldn’t handle it. I demanded a divorce. I wanted to move to Europe and start a new life. But facing the massive corporate assets my family still held, the Kensington family refused to agree to the divorce. They ignored my legal papers. They just dragged it out, draining my youth. To them, giving me a house and a monthly allowance was a microscopic price to pay to keep me trapped. 4 Suddenly, there was a commotion out in the hallway. I poked my head out. “What’s going on?” Martha hurried in, shaking her head. “Don’t look.” A chorus of wailing erupted outside. A bed covered with a white sheet was wheeled past, surrounded by weeping family members. I froze. I became even quieter after that. It felt like someone left this ward every few days. Sometimes, two bodies were taken away in a single day. Just yesterday, this floor felt wrapped in a mundane, peaceful sort of happiness. So many people had come to ask for a bowl of Martha’s beef stew. There was laughter in the halls. Martha sighed as she wiped down the bedside table. “Thanksgiving is right around the corner. That family just wanted to hold on until the holidays. The universe is too cruel.” At that thought, Martha looked at her husband in the hospital bed. She turned away and wiped her eyes. When she turned back around, she was smiling again. “For Thanksgiving, what kind of pie does everyone want? I’ll go home and bake.” The older woman caring for the patient next door waved her hand. “You’re tired enough every day. Don’t wear yourself out.” “It’s no trouble, it makes me happy! And whoever eats a slice of my pie has to promise to live to be a hundred.” The room fell silent. Everyone lowered their heads. Her husband reached out and squeezed her hand. “You silly old woman.” 5 Thanksgiving arrived in the blink of an eye. Martha handed me a slice of homemade pumpkin pie. I unwrapped the foil. We were all eating in the room. But everyone was only taking tiny, hesitant bites. First, we had no appetite. Second, we had no energy. We were just going through the motions for the holiday. Finally, I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Mom, don’t give me pie, I don’t like it.” “Pie means the family is together, sweetie. Even if you don’t like it, you have to eat a little piece.” In my memory, my mom gently tapped my nose. I was so small back then. I took a massive bite of the pie. I filled my cheeks, chewed slowly, and forced it down. But then I choked. On the TV, they were broadcasting the Kensington family’s holiday gala. There was a massive dining table covered in an opulent, Michelin-star Thanksgiving feast. I bit my lip. In the center of the frame were Mr. and Mrs. Kensington. Next to them was Liam. The woman beside him in the elegant silk dress didn’t show her face; the camera only caught her pale, delicate wrist resting on the table. The left side of the screen stopped there. But on the right side, all the uncles, cousins, and relatives were shown clearly. I turned my head, my mouth full of pie, and looked out the window. In past years, the Kensington family events were always grand and strictly adhered to old-money rules. I never expected them to invite the media this time. The woman next to him was Seraphina. 6 Later on, I saw paparazzi photos of Liam and Seraphina floating around online multiple times. However, none of them ever captured Seraphina’s full face. Just a side profile. Or a silhouette from behind. It sparked a massive discussion online. “Who is the woman next to Liam Kensington?” “Is he keeping a mistress?” “Don’t talk nonsense, you can’t even see her face. It might be his wife.” “If it’s his wife, why hide her face? Plus, her silhouette doesn’t match Evelyn Monroe. This woman is a bit curvier.” “Men always prefer that type.” “Insider gossip: It’s definitely not his wife. But Liam has already brought her home to meet the parents.” “Meet the parents? Then what about the actual Mrs. Kensington?” “Who knows? But come to think of it, no one has seen Evelyn Monroe in the media for years.” I put down my phone. I raised my arm, looking at the limb that was now practically skin and bones. The doctor said I had to shave my head. I pressed my lips together in silence. I contacted my lawyer. Then, I asked the doctor for permission to go home for a few hours. From the taxi, I dialed Liam’s number. We hadn’t seen each other in six months. He sounded even colder than before. “What do you want?” “I’m coming home. We need to talk.” He paused. “You’re at the house?” “Yeah. Almost there.” “I’m in a meeting. I can’t leave.” “I’ll wait.” With that, I hung up. 7 I ended up waiting for four hours. Thankfully, the autumn air was incredibly crisp. I lingered outside, sometimes sitting on the porch steps, sometimes walking among the fallen golden leaves on the driveway. Autumn had arrived. Everything felt bleaker. I looked back at the massive estate. Even the house looked desolate. Liam’s car pulled into the driveway, sweeping up a cloud of dry leaves. He stepped out, looking at me sitting on the steps, and frowned. “Why are you sitting out here? Why didn’t you go inside?” I shook my head. “Forgot my key.” “Forgot it? More like you lost it while you were out messing around.” He turned back, grabbed his keys from the car, and unlocked the front door. As the door opened, a strong, musty smell hit us. He coughed. “Ugh.” His handsome face immediately darkened with anger. I stopped him. “Liam, let’s not go inside. Let’s just talk out here.” In the past, our fights had reached the ugliest extremes, but now, it just felt completely unnecessary. He turned around. His face wore a dark, confused expression. “Talk about what?” I unzipped my puffy jacket and pulled out a stack of documents. “Marry Seraphina. Let’s get a divorce.” He froze, looking at me in sheer disbelief. But then, the anger flared up again. “This time, I don’t want anything. I’m walking away with nothing.” His rising fury instantly morphed back into shock. If I could do it all over again, I would have asked for nothing from the very beginning. Just to fight him, I had traded my life. I trapped myself in this miserable marriage just to prove a point, demanding my 5% of the shares. Fighting for the youth I felt had been stolen. But in the end, what did I actually get? He clenched his fists. “Evelyn Monroe, what crazy game are you playing now?” We stood in silence. He didn’t take the papers. I stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and slapped the divorce agreement onto his palm. I looked up. A golden leaf fell between us. I turned around and walked down the steps. I paused for a second. “I’m leaving. Do whatever you want with this place.” With that, I walked away, accompanied only by the drifting autumn leaves. “Evelyn…” Someone seemed to call my name. But I didn’t want to answer. 8 It was almost time to shave my head. I couldn’t bear to part with my hair. The next day, the hospital barber suddenly had a family emergency and couldn’t make it. I had time to properly document myself one last time. I set up a small tray table on my bed and dumped out the bottles and compacts from my makeup bag. “You’re doing your makeup?” a young nurse asked, frowning. Another nurse quickly pulled her out of the room. That day, my makeup session drew a crowd of patients and their families. They didn’t look at me like I was a freak. They looked at me with encouragement. They told me I looked beautiful, that they had never seen a patient look so pretty. I smiled. “Believe it or not, I was Prom Queen once.” They nodded emphatically. Eventually, I was too exhausted to finish. I quickly curled my eyelashes and snapped a photo. Several patients came over to take group pictures, and I happily obliged. Finally, I picked a solo selfie and posted it to my social media account. #Do I look pretty today?# Suddenly, my notifications exploded with likes. It turned out another patient in the ward had shared my post with their network of survivor groups. “Gorgeous! Literally an angel.” “So pretty, especially your eyes. So big and round.” “I think her nose is the best feature. Perfect profile.” “Just one feature? Her whole face is beautiful! Oh my god, the prettiest girl on the internet.” I pressed my lips together. Their kindness deeply moved me. Suddenly, a comment with a verified yellow badge popped up. “Ugly as hell. Do you think putting on some makeup will make my brother change his mind?” “You don’t deserve him.” The profile picture was a girl in a pink hoodie, showing her side profile. It was Madison Kensington. She had never liked me. Some patients replied to her, telling her to have some basic decency. She fought back viciously in the replies. After a long silence, I picked up my phone. I replied to Madison. “I don’t need him to change his mind.” Then, I deleted the entire post.

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