My sugar daddy used to call me the entertainment industry’s only pure white jasmine. He said it was because I was unassuming, well-behaved, sensible, and utterly devoted to him. But lately, he’d developed a strong preference for a gaudy peony. So, he gave his new favorite the two endorsement deals and a movie role he’d promised me. Many in the industry were waiting to see me fall. Only I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I had a good reason to find a new patron. And my new patron was already growing impatient. 1. My assistant, Chloe, called me in tears as I was getting my hair and makeup done for the evening’s charity gala. Chloe sobbed into the phone. “…The brand said Mr. Davies made the call. That dress has to go to Celeste.” Celeste was Raymond Davies’s new favorite, and she had set her sights on the seasonal couture gown from Elie I’d borrowed. Raymond, completely infatuated with her, naturally indulged her every whim. He told me, “Tonight is Celeste’s first big event like this. She wants to make a good impression.” “It’s just a dress, Vivian. Be generous.” He knew perfectly well that a director I greatly admired would be attending tonight. To make a good impression on them, I had started preparing a month in advance. But he didn’t care. Perhaps I’d been too good at acting all these years. Raymond was convinced I was madly in love with him, that I couldn’t live without him, so he acted with impunity. He was accustomed to my compliance and concessions. So he never considered whether I would be humiliated, or ridiculed. I immediately contacted my agent to reach out to various brands. My agent sent mass emails to a dozen brands, yet not a single one could lend me a dress. News of a gown being snatched just before a gala spread quickly through the industry. Some feigned sympathy. “Vivian, if there’s no time, there’s nothing you can do. There will be other opportunities.” “It’s just a shame, Director Olsen is the keynote speaker tonight, and they say she’s looking for the lead actress for her new film.” I pondered for a moment, then dialed Victor Sterling’s number. Then, under the sympathetic or gleeful gazes of others, I waited silently for three hours. Just as I was about to call it a night, I received a gown from Victor’s assistant. It was an Elie extra-season couture piece, but unfortunately, the style didn’t quite suit me. That night, Celeste wore the gradient blue “Starlight” gown, adorned with a thousand diamonds, and stole the show. Even before the banquet ended, articles proclaiming her “Goddess of Glamour” and “outshining everyone” were flying across the internet. Chloe, my assistant, fumed, “Vivian, you would have looked so much better in that outfit than her.” Soon, that remark reached Celeste’s ears. Celeste, champagne in hand, blocked my path, raising an eyebrow. “I heard Vivian wanted to wear my dress too?” “But Mr. Davies said this dress needs a fresh, young girl like me to truly capture the ‘Starry Elf’ vibe.” She deliberately eyed me up and down. “Vivian, you’re almost thirty, aren’t you? One has to accept their age.” I smiled gently. “Twenty-eight is certainly not considered young in the entertainment industry anymore.” “I hope, Celeste darling, you never reach my age.” Celeste paused, likely still trying to decipher what I meant. I had already given a polite nod and walked past her towards the backstage. By the time Celeste realized and texted to curse me out, I was already back at my apartment, finished with makeup removal, and preparing for a shower. I read the text and inwardly tsk-ed. Raymond’s new favorite was beautiful, but unfortunately, she lacked any real intelligence. 2. As I was blow-drying my hair after my shower, I received a string of messages from Chloe. She said an endorsement deal I’d been in talks for had been snatched by Celeste. And the film I was supposed to start shooting tomorrow? Celeste had been slotted in as well. They said she was the secondary lead, but her screen time wouldn’t be much less than mine. To be fair, Raymond was a decent sugar daddy. When he was infatuated with someone, he’d lavish them with the best things. I’d experienced that treatment myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone from being a complete unknown to a top-tier star in just five years. It’s just that his affections were fleeting. I’d seen many who fell genuinely in love with him, and none came to a good end. Once, someone cried and asked me, “Vivian, teach me, how do you tolerate the constant string of women around him?” I quietly handed her a tissue. “Probably because I never expected his genuine affection.” 3. I learned at a very young age that genuine affection is the most unreliable thing. My mother was deceived by what she called ‘true love.’ She spent her entire life as a mistress, firmly believing it was true love. She always told me that one day, my biological father would drive up in a Maybach to pick her up, and we would be acknowledged by his family. When I was little, I, too, was misled by her. I eagerly waited for my father to pick me up. Until I didn’t have enough money for school fees, and my mom took me to kneel and beg my aunt. Until I was too afraid to buy sanitary pads to save money, only daring to use toilet paper from the school bathroom. Until I burst into tears when someone accidentally knocked over the Children’s Day cupcake provided by the school. Only then did I understand that affection doesn’t fill your stomach. It can’t keep me alive. Affection is a joke. But that’s not what I told Raymond. I told him I offered him my true heart. Because I loved him, I never made demands, never put him in a difficult position. Because I loved him, as long as I could be by his side, I was willing to endure the parade of women around him. This, of course, wasn’t entirely a lie. I loved Raymond’s money, I loved his resources. I loved the red carpet he laid out for me, allowing me to rise quickly. Yes, how could that not be love? Raymond thoroughly enjoyed feeling so utterly adored by me. I thought he was a little pathetic. If he had ever truly loved someone, or been truly loved, he would have instantly seen that my fervent affection was an act. If you truly love someone, how could you tolerate a third person? Perhaps my acting was too good. All these years, people came and went around him, but he never replaced me. But now, I wanted to replace him. 4. A year ago, I realized that what Raymond could offer me was already very limited. I was already a top-tier actress. Many resources, I could get even without him. In fact, I could even obtain some resources that he couldn’t. But I didn’t immediately dump him. Firstly, even if he couldn’t bring me much positive benefit, he could easily ruin my career, and I couldn’t afford to make an enemy of him. Secondly, as a pure, devoted “white flower” to her patron, I should wait for the patron to grow tired, pay me off, and send me away, rather than actively firing the patron. Otherwise, it would appear too opportunistic, and what patron would dare to take me on in the future? Thirdly, I was still waiting for Raymond to get tired of me and give me a severance package. So, I waited. I waited for Raymond to give me a sufficient reason to break up. But this past year, he seemed to have settled down; there hadn’t been any new women around him. So, when I heard Raymond had given Celeste the two endorsement deals and a movie role he’d promised me, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I had a chance to replace him. 5. I slept wonderfully, waking up early the next day to head to the set. Halfway through the opening ceremony, Celeste finally arrived, fashionably late. Raymond was the biggest investor in this production. As Raymond’s new favorite, Celeste naturally received the highest standard of treatment: a five-star hotel, a private assistant car, and a personal screenwriter. The director even agreed to several unreasonable scene additions without a word. Seeing the director’s attitude, I naturally kept my distance from Celeste. But I couldn’t stop Celeste from trying to provoke me. The third time she pushed me into the pond under the guise of filming, I pulled her in with me. Unfortunately, Celeste was a terrible swimmer. I merely smudged my makeup, but she actually swallowed several mouthfuls of the murky pond water. Raymond happened to be visiting the set, and Celeste immediately burst into tears, feigning distress. Raymond picked Celeste up in his arms, looking at me with a half-smile. “Looks like you’ve certainly grown a temper.” I stood in the pond, eyes downcast, my face pale, looking as pathetic as possible. Raymond said, “Apologize to Celeste, and I’ll let this matter go.” I softly said, “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Raymond, having been disrespected in front of everyone, lost his temper. “Then you can stand in the pond. When you’ve come to your senses, you can come out.” With that, he walked away with Celeste. Of course, I wouldn’t stand there foolishly. I waited for the paparazzi to get enough photos, then immediately “fainted.” Chloe rushed over, shouting for someone to take me back to the hotel. After I returned to my room and showered, Chloe’s press release had already gone out. “Raymond Davies Avenges New Love, Old Flame Becomes a Drenched Mess.” 6. I had just finished blow-drying my hair when my mom called. She asked me, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been with Mr. Davies for five years, and you still can’t win against that hussy?” I rubbed my temple. “Don’t worry about it.” My mom said anxiously, “If I don’t worry about you, who will? I told you ages ago!” “You need to hurry up and have a son for Mr. Davies, and your future will be secure!” I sneered, “You had a son for that man, and in the end, don’t I still have to support you?” She said bitterly, “Sweetheart, Mom is doing this for your own good! How can you talk like that?” “If you don’t find a man while you’re young and beautiful, what will you do when you’re old?” I suddenly felt a deep sadness. All my efforts in acting, all my hard work, in her eyes, were inferior to simply finding a man. She, who had gained some advantages from men because of her good looks, then worshipped men like gods. Her first half of life, supported by a sum of money left by a man, she frugally raised me and my brother. In the latter half, she hoped I could find a man to continue supporting our family. She had been a parasite her entire life. And she encouraged me to become a parasite, clinging to others. She didn’t encourage me to strive, but rather to slide down an easy, perilous slope. She said that if I just let myself slide, I would reach a paradise of bliss. But in reality, it was nothing more than a mirage. So, I would not allow myself to slide.

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Emerging from the asylum, I found myself driving for hire. Never in a million years did I imagine tonight’s passengers would be my sister, Lydia, and my ex-wife, Cici. The car door opened, and a familiar perfume, mingled with the sharp scent of alcohol, wafted in. From the backseat, they chatted about corporate mergers and Swiss ski trips, their voices light and carefree. My throat felt dry. I couldn’t help but cough. “Still taking fares when you’re sick?” Lydia’s voice instantly cut through the air, laced with disdain. “There’s a pregnant woman in the car. Can you really afford to spread your illness?” I didn’t respond. Then, Cici suddenly looked up, her gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. Her voice was as gentle and composed as ever. “Aiden Caldwell, long time no see.” A suffocating silence descended on the car. “Aiden Caldwell?!” Lydia lurched forward. “You’re actually alive?!” “Cici, don’t you remember he had that… disease? Get out, quickly!” The car conveniently pulled to a stop in front of a sprawling luxury mansion. They practically fled, disappearing into the night. I sat in the car, my hand slowly pressing against my chest. Turns out, it didn’t ache here anymore. Time truly does smooth over everything. 1 I watched my sister, Lydia, rush away, pulling Cici along. “Cici, have you lost your mind? He had that awful disease! Come on, let’s just pretend we saw nothing tonight…” I sat in the driver’s seat, my hands trembling slightly. I fumbled for my cigarette pack, pulled one out, and lit it. Once, I’d smoked cigars worth thousands without a second thought. Now… The moment the cigarette ignited, I choked, bending over in a coughing fit. The car window was gently tapped. Cici had somehow returned, standing beside the car. She leaned in slightly, her voice hushed. “Aiden, it’s Julian’s birthday today. Mom and Dad are there. Do you… want to come in and see them?” I snuffed out the cigarette, my voice hoarse. “No need. Aren’t things clearer with one less person around?” “Don’t say that.” She gently shook her head. “You are, after all, a true Caldwell.” Before her words faded, the villa door swung open. A man strode out. “Cici! Who are you talking to?” “Didn’t I tell you not to bother with those shady characters from outside?” I didn’t listen any further. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and sped off. The cold wind swept through the car, making me shiver. The car finally stopped in front of a small pastry shop. The apprentice, Liam, pushed aside the curtain and stepped out, a smile on his face. “Boss, you’re back.” My second job began. Kneading dough, rolling wrappers, filling pastries, steaming them. After finishing all the work, I’d lie down for barely three or four hours before having to get up and drive again. These past years, I’d forgotten how to sleep. At three in the morning, the steam from the pastry shop finally dissipated. Liam squatted by the door, scrolling on his phone, and suddenly let out a “Tsk.” “Wow! Boss, look! The Caldwells are throwing a huge yacht party for their adopted son’s birthday! What a spectacle… And his wife is stunning.” The camera panned across the deck. Julian Caldwell was holding Cici by the waist, whispering something into her ear. She smiled beautifully, as beautiful as she had been on our wedding day. My father stood nearby, lovingly patting Julian’s shoulder. “Heard the Caldwell’s second son passed away eight years ago,” Liam mumbled casually. “Otherwise, none of this would be inherited by the adopted son, would it? It’s fate, I guess…” He sighed, envy coloring his face. “Forget houses, how many years would we have to sell pastries just to buy one of their car tires?” I looked at him and shook my head. That life, I knew it too well. But eight years ago, I was brutally kicked from those clouds straight into hell. The hands that pushed me down—one pair belonged to my new bride, the other, to my own family. 2 I lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. Liam, wiping down tables, looked up at me. “Boss, your cough is getting worse. You should smoke less.” I rasped, “Can’t quit.” He sighed, turning back to his tidying, sweeping with a feather duster. “Boss, New Year’s is coming. I’m heading back to my hometown in a couple of days, so I’ll clean up the shop first.” As the duster reached under the bed, it suddenly hit something hard. He pulled out a dust-covered box. Opening it, he found a ring inside. Even the dust couldn’t dim its shine. “Boss, this looks really expensive,” Liam said, carefully holding it. “You should keep it safe.” He handed me the box. The moment my fingertips brushed the edge, I flinched back as if burned. Eight years ago, I had personally placed this ring on Cici’s finger. Memories flooded back. Once, she was just a little girl who had crawled out of earthquake ruins. My father and I were surveying the village and found her amidst the rubble. Seeing her plight, I sponsored her education. She wrote to me every month, her feelings in those letters growing clearer with each passing year. Later, I bought her a phone. She confessed her feelings over the phone, and I refused. She didn’t pester me, but instead studied harder, getting into a prestigious university abroad. When she returned, she was parachuted in as the youngest department manager in the company. Standing before me again, she said, “Aiden Caldwell, do I deserve you now?” This time, I nodded. News of my impending marriage reached home, and my father smashed his favorite teapot, my mother cried all night. I knelt in the family chapel for three days, eventually swaying them. On our wedding day, I announced her name to the world. The wedding dress was custom-made by a designer I hired for her, and I personally placed the ring on her finger. After the wedding, I gradually let her take over company affairs, transferring my shares, little by little, into her name. But at some point, fierce arguments began to erupt between her and my adopted brother, Julian Caldwell. They often bickered incessantly over projects. Cici once directly threw a cup of coffee in Julian’s face, sealing their animosity. I advised Julian to be more accommodating with Cici, but he just sneered at me. “Your taste in women is truly terrible.” I thought these two would remain at odds forever. Until I saw Julian wearing the same brand of clothes as me—a brand I frequently wore. Cici, unperturbed, said, “The store had a buy-one-get-one-free offer, so I picked one up for Julian too.” I was even happy when their relationship seemed to mend. Later, when Cici was kidnapped by a competitor, the first to rush to her rescue was Julian. When I arrived, I saw him tightly embracing a tear-streaked Cici. My heart felt heavy, but I said nothing. Cici later explained, “I was terrified then. No matter who arrived first, I would have reacted the same way.” The day after our wedding, I flew abroad for an urgent project. When I returned, I didn’t tell her, wanting to surprise her. I quietly walked to the glass conservatory I had given her. And then, I witnessed a sight I would never forget. My adopted brother, Julian Caldwell, had my new wife, Cici, pressed against the transparent glass. Their bodies were intimately entwined, the conservatory filled with an illicit spring glow. The gift box in my hand fell to the ground with a ‘thud.’ 3 I rushed forward and landed a solid punch on Julian. Cici frantically dressed, grabbing my arm. “Aiden, let me explain!” “Explain?” I shook off her hand. “Explain how you two ended up together? Do you think I’m blind?” I looked at Julian, then at Cici. In my extreme fury, a ridiculous glimmer of hope still remained—perhaps she was just momentarily confused. I extended my hand to Cici. “Come here. I’ll give you one last chance.” The moment she moved, Julian yanked her back behind him. My brother, who had always been so gentle with me, now had eyes filled with disgust. He looked at me and said clearly, “Aiden, I’m sorry. But Cici and I are truly in love.” “Just let her go.” I swung a punch at his face, and blood immediately gushed out. Cici shrieked, then raised her hand and slapped me across the face. After hitting me, even she seemed stunned. I looked at the fresh hickeys on her neck and suddenly felt a chill spread through my body. Julian wiped the blood, a cold smirk on his face. “Aiden Caldwell, what else can you do besides resort to violence? Face reality.” He paused, then each word landed like a blow. “And, she’s already carrying my child.” The last thread in my mind snapped. Julian and I lunged at each other. Cici rushed in to intervene, but I accidentally pushed her away with force. She fell heavily to the ground, and a pool of blood quickly spread beneath her. She had miscarried. In the hospital, my mother continuously wiped away tears. My father, his face grim, finally spoke. “Aiden, you were too impulsive. No matter how angry you are, you shouldn’t lay hands on a pregnant woman.” I looked at them, finding it all absurd. “She was carrying Julian’s child. A bastard with no blood ties to the Caldwell family, and you still want it?” “Silence!” My father roared, his cane striking my calf with brutal force. My leg buckled, and I crashed to my knees. My father’s chest heaved as he pointed his cane at me. “You animal, listen carefully!” “Julian’s father was a brother I fought alongside on the battlefield, a man who took a bullet for me! Before he died, he entrusted me with only one thing: to care for his only son!” He looked down at me. “In your mother’s and my heart, Julian is a Caldwell! If you dare touch him again, I won’t need anyone else; I’ll break your legs myself!” I knelt there, the pain in my leg nothing compared to the cold spreading through my heart. Turns out, twenty years of father-son affection couldn’t outweigh a single dying wish. My father sternly scolded, “Still talking back! If you hadn’t been so neglectful of Cici, how would she have ended up with Julian? You’ve been headstrong and willful since childhood, nothing like your brother, who is steady and sensible! Apologize to your brother!” Lydia chimed in. “Aiden, since Julian and Cici are truly in love, why don’t you just let them be?” “Dad!” my voice trembled. “His feelings are important, but can your biological son’s dignity be trampled so casually?!” I looked up, catching Julian and Cici exchanging glances. That fleeting moment of intimacy shattered my last shred of illusion. I abruptly stood up and rushed to the hospital bed, grabbing Cici’s wrist and dragging her off. “Let’s go! Let’s get out of here. I won’t hold anything against you!” Cici shrieked, falling to the floor. She grabbed the vase from the bedside table and violently smashed it over my head. “Let go of me!” The porcelain shattered on my scalp, blood mixed with cold water streaming down my face. My father’s bodyguards instantly rushed in, pinning my arms behind my back and forcing me to the ground. “Mad! He’s truly mad!” my father roared. “Send him to psychiatry! Lock him up and let him clear his head!” As I was pressed to the ground, the last thing I saw was Julian carefully shielding Cici in his embrace. I was sent to a mental asylum. Under the effects of sedatives, time became a blur. During my daily one-hour TV time, I always saw news of Julian and Cici. They had gone to the Maldives with my sister, their smiles blinding. I knew that if I kept resisting, I’d never get out. I started to be compliant, taking my medication diligently, accepting “treatment” on schedule. On the day of my discharge, Julian personally drove to pick me up. Cici sat in the passenger seat, and Lydia accompanied me in the back. The car drove for a long time before Lydia suddenly spoke. “Aiden, when I visited you last time, you’d already signed the divorce papers. This morning, Cici and Julian officially registered their marriage.” She shook her phone, the screen displaying their wedding photo. I felt a dizzy spell; I had no recollection of ever signing anything. “Stop the car!” “Aiden!” Lydia frowned in annoyance. “Can you please stop making a scene? Look at Julian, always so composed. No wonder Mom and Dad decided to hand the entire company over to him.” I suddenly grabbed the back of the front seat. “What about my shares?” Cici turned around, her voice still gentle. “Aiden, you were deemed mentally incapacitated during your illness. Mom and Dad thought it was for your own good to temporarily entrust your shares to Julian.” “That was my life’s work!” I stared at the back of Julian’s head. He scoffed. “Aiden, you don’t have the capability. Isn’t it better to just be a rich idler?” I looked at the people in the car. My wife, my “brother,” my sister. “Stop the car,” my voice was very soft. “Otherwise…” I suddenly leaned forward, grabbing a handful of Julian’s hair and yanking hard!

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The party was in full swing when my fiancé, Griffin, disappeared. I was about to go look for him when a stream of comments flashed before my eyes: 【Why is the villainess by the car all of a sudden? Our sweet heroine is still connected with the leading man!】 【I love that the villainess’s new car is about to become the love nest where the hero and heroine first taste the forbidden fruit.】 【Hehe~ Serves her right for trying to take the heroine’s place. Let her burn with rage!】 Our mutual friends quickly moved to stop me. “Griffin said he went to buy you a gift. He told you to go back inside and wait.” 【These friends are the real MVPs, covering for our favorite couple.】 【Our tall, handsome hero belongs to our girl Izzy! If I were there, I’d help them lie to the evil villainess too.】 【Damn, our boy Griffin is intense. He slammed her against the hood to kiss her and broke the bumper.】 I glanced up at the blistering midsummer sun. Then at my car, baking in the heat with the A/C off. I pulled out my phone and dialed my insurance company. “Hello, my bumper’s been hit. I need an agent here within the hour. I’ll be waiting by the car.” 【?! No! An hour? They’ll bake to death in there!】 1 The friends of Griffin and Isabelle frowned. “Aria, you’re going to wait out here for an hour?” one of them, Landon, asked. “It’s a hundred degrees out. You’ll get sunstroke. Just wait inside, we’ll let you know when the insurance agent gets here.” “No can do,” I said, shaking my head. “I look away for a second and my bumper gets smashed. What if I go inside and they do it again? This is a brand new car!” I turned and called out to the owner of the seaside restaurant. “Excuse me! Could you bring out a few large fans and a patio umbrella? And maybe twenty ice-cold watermelons? Oh, and bring out that big ice cream freezer too. We can enjoy the ocean view out here!” 【?? What’s with this sudden urge to watch the ocean? She’s out here chilling while our hero and heroine are going to die of heatstroke in that car!】 【This is bad. The A/C isn’t on. If they turn it on now, with everyone gathered here, they’ll be exposed!】 【I’m so stressed! It’s a hundred degrees outside, which means it could get up to one-thirty, one-forty inside that car! Can’t this evil witch just drop dead? All she does is cause trouble!】 “Aria Collins.” Landon, the de facto leader of Griffin and Isabelle’s friend group, stepped in front of me. “None of us are interested in watching the ocean. If you’re not coming inside, you can stay out here by yourself.” He gestured for the others to follow him. They all shot me a look of pure contempt, scoffed, and started walking back toward the restaurant. 【Yes! I love how they just turned their backs on her!】 【Landon’s got her number. The way Aria sucks up to them, she’ll be running back to apologize the second they leave.】 【This will give our favorite couple the chance to sneak out!】 My fists clenched at my sides. It was true. I was a suck-up. I did everything I could to get Griffin and Isabelle’s friends to like me. They were the ones who had grown up with Griffin and Isabelle. They were the tight-knit circle. I was the outsider, the latecomer. But we were engaged when we were five years old! 【Can the evil villainess just die already? So what if her parents were swept away by a flood saving our five-year-old hero?】 【It was an honor for her parents to save him. Not every NPC gets that kind of storyline, okay?】 【Besides, she’s the villain. The only reason the hero’s father felt guilty enough to set up the engagement was because her parents died. Does she really think she’s worthy of him?】 【She hit the jackpot and still acts like the world owes her. Ugh.】 【Don’t worry, guys. The villainess will keep tormenting our heroine and die a horrible death in the end! Just keep watching!】 The mention of my parents sent a shard of ice through my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the pain down. When I was five, I didn’t know Griffin already had a childhood sweetheart. It wasn’t until after we got engaged in college that I realized he and Isabelle shared a whole life, a circle of friends, weekly parties, and yearly vacations that I was never a part of. I tried so hard to break into that circle. But whenever I showed up, the atmosphere would instantly freeze over. I’d bring them expensive gifts, and they’d offer a dismissive “thanks” before tossing them aside, never even bothering to take them home. I’d offer to pay for everyone to go on a trip, but Griffin and Isabelle would always be the ones to choose the destination. Just like this seaside barbecue. My eyes, burning with unshed tears, fixed on my new car. The comments said I would die a horrible death? Fine. Let’s see who dies first. “What are you still doing out here?” Landon snapped, his brow furrowed in disapproval. “Are you really going to sit here all day?” 2 “Yes. You guys go on ahead.” They all froze, exchanging bewildered glances. Normally, this was the moment I would have panicked, terrified of their disapproval, and scrambled to follow them. But I paid for the meal. I covered their travel expenses. Why was I always the one groveling? Seeing that I wasn’t budging, Landon shot a quick, nervous glance at my car, which appeared perfectly normal from the outside. His voice grew harsher. “Griffin told you to wait inside. You’re already a nobody in this group. If you can’t even follow a simple instruction, don’t bother coming out with us again.” 【Oof, what a burn! Landon knows exactly how to hit her where it hurts.】 【Everyone knows her biggest dream is to be accepted into the hero and heroine’s social circle.】 “Fine.” My single-word reply left them stunned. I heard one of them whisper, though not quietly enough. “Is it just me, or is she… different today?” Another one tried a different tactic. “Aria, stop making a scene! This is only going to make Griffin hate you more!” 【That’s right. The villainess can lose everything except the hero’s love.】 【Lmao, classic female rivalry brain. You keep doing you, girl.】 【If I didn’t know she was going to die miserably in the end, I would’ve stopped reading out of pure rage by now.】 I frowned at the stream of text. Landon smirked, thinking he had me. “Now that you understand, hurry up and come inside. Everyone’s waiting for you.” “Then let them wait,” I said, casually sipping my watermelon juice. “We can all wait together. If you don’t want to, you can go inside.” Silence. They were completely speechless. 【?! What the hell! Did this woman have a lobotomy today? Has she never seen the ocean before? Didn’t she see enough water when her parents were swept away by the flood?】 【Get lost, you bitch! Our girl Izzy is about to pass out in Griffin’s arms!】 【Turn on the A/C, Izzy!】 【Are you dumb?! If she does that, everyone will know someone’s in the car! They’re still… occupied!】 【Not gonna lie, the sweat glistening on our hero’s muscles is pretty hot. drools】 “Aria, please. We’re begging you, okay?” For the first time ever, I heard something like surrender in their voices. But I wasn’t biting. “My brand new car gets its bumper smashed, and I’m just supposed to let it go? What if someone did it on purpose? If I leave, what’s to stop them from doing something worse?” “But…” 【Lmao, ‘smashed.’ She’d probably have a heart attack if she knew it was because our hero was kissing our heroine too hard against the hood.】 【I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out the truth and has a total meltdown! Hahaha!】 【Yeah, but still, they need to get out of there. Our girl is starting to lose consciousness.】 【Don’t worry, they’re the main characters, they won’t die. Besides, being a little delirious will only make the experience more intense~】 “What are you all doing gathered out here?” A familiar voice. I paused. My childhood friend… Owen? 3 “Oh, Aria, you found out? I was just passing by and accidentally bumped your car. I was about to come find you to apologize!” “So it was you,” Landon interjected immediately. “You should have said something sooner. Aria thought someone did it maliciously and already called her insurance.” “Haha! I was in a hurry, figured I’d tell you when I got back!” Owen said, moving to pull me up. “My bad, this meal’s on me. Come on, big bro will treat you to whatever you want inside!” “No. I’m waiting for the insurance agent.” Landon was getting agitated now. “It’s Owen, Aria! Do you have to be so formal about everything?” Owen chimed in, “It’s scorching out here. Don’t stay in the sun, your skin is so delicate, you’ll burn. How much is it? I’ll pay for it. Just let me take you inside first.” “No need. We’ll go through insurance. You don’t have to spend a dime.” 【Ugh, I’m so annoyed! Is her ass glued to that chair? What a buzzkill!】 【Our heroine and hero still have the second act to get to! Nobody wants to watch you sit there!】 “Why are you being so polite with me?” Suddenly, my feet left the ground. The world turned upside down as he threw me over his shoulder. Owen… was carrying me off like a sack of potatoes! 【Yes! Go, second male lead, go!】 【Owen, you’re the man! If the villainess won’t cooperate, use force! Get her out of the way!】 【Please, universe, give me a guy like him! He knew the heroine was in trouble and came to the rescue immediately, no hesitation, even if it meant turning on his childhood friend!】 【Dude, it’s our heroine. What man could possibly resist her?】 【If I were him, I’d help our girl Izzy too.】 “Owen, put me down!” I yelled, grabbing onto the doorframe of the restaurant. Owen just chuckled and pried my fingers away. “We grew up together, don’t be shy now.” 【Go, Owen, go! Griffin has already helped Isabelle get her clothes back on! Carry the villainess inside so they can get out!】 【Too bad this bitch ruined the mood. No second round for them now.】 I gritted my teeth. And sank them into Owen’s back. Hard. “AGH!” He dropped me. Blood was already seeping through his shirt from the bite mark. 【!! Is this bitch part dog?】 【Why is she going back?! Ahhh, our heroine is about to pass out! If they don’t get out now, someone’s going to die!】 【Griffin is about to faint too, but he’s still holding her hand so tightly. I’m literally crying.】 “Are you insane? When did you start biting people?!” Owen yelled, clutching his wound. “The insurance agent is on their way,” I said coldly. “If you want to go inside, go. Don’t touch me again.” “You!” Owen looked at his blood-stained hand. “Are you coming inside or not?” “Not.” “Fine.” He gritted his teeth and pulled out his phone. “Hello? 911? I’ve been bitten. Yes, it was an assault. You can be here in three minutes? Great. Please hurry, I’m afraid she’ll attack someone else.” 【Sweet! Griffin and Isabelle might be fading, but they can hold on for three more minutes!】 【The cops will take her away, and our two lovebirds can finally escape!】 【The insurance guy is still thirty minutes out. Hahaha, serves her right. The villainess is about to be replaced!】 Sure enough, a police car pulled up just a few minutes later. Landon and the others immediately pointed at me. “It was her! We all saw her bite Mr. Roberts! We can be witnesses!” “That’s right! We’ll go down to the station with you and give our statements!” 【Aww, these friends are so loyal. I’m tearing up.】 【They’ve all known each other since they were kids. You don’t see friendships like that anymore.】 An officer looked at the wound on Owen’s back and frowned. “Ma’am, your actions constitute a serious assault. Please come with us for questioning.” “But…” Before I could say another word, I felt the cold click of handcuffs on my wrists. They started to lead me toward the patrol car. 【Yes! They’re already in the trunk!】 “I didn’t assault him! Officer, please, just wait! I’m begging you, just wait a little longer!” “You injured a man this badly. We can’t leave you out here where you might pose a threat to others. Get in the car.” “But…” 【Hurry, hurry! They’ve unlocked the trunk from the inside! As soon as she’s in the car, they can climb out!】 CRUNCH! A loud bang echoed as a car slammed into mine from behind. “Aria Collins, don’t you know how to park? Why did you leave your car in the middle of the road?!”

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I was stocking up on supplies for the New Year when I ran into him at the end of an aisle. Just like that, without any warning, I came face-to-face with Declan. It had been five years since we’d last spoken. A clean, complete break. After a flicker of surprise, I managed a polite greeting. He asked how I’d been, and I returned his politeness with a practiced response. “I’ve been okay.” At the checkout, he moved to pay for my things, but I stopped him. His eyes flickered to the toys in my cart, and a strange expression crossed his face. “Let me,” he said, his voice soft. “No matter what happened, I’m still his father. I should at least be able to buy him something.” I smiled, a small, polite curve of my lips, and refused again. “Really, you don’t have to.” He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Our son was gone. … By the time I left the supermarket, the sky was a sheet of black ink. My best friend called, her voice cautious. “Anya… I heard he’s back.” “Yeah,” I said, my eyes on the road. “I saw him today.” “What?” Her voice shot up an octave. “That bastard, Declan! How dare he show his face in front of you? Does he have any idea that if it wasn’t for him, Felix would never have…” “It’s okay,” I cut her off gently. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll never see each other again anyway.” Not long after I hung up, a new notification popped up on my phone. A friend request. The profile picture was a photo of the kitten I had raised years ago. I knew instantly who it was. My brow furrowed. Five years, and now this. What could he possibly want? When I didn’t accept right away, another request came through, this time with a message. Anya, it’s me. It’s the New Year. I want to buy some clothes for our son. Please, just accept. I stared at the words, a bitter laugh bubbling in my chest. It was so absurd it was almost funny. Still, I typed a reply into the rejection box, a final act of detached courtesy. Declan, that won’t be necessary. I wouldn’t want your wife to misunderstand. Then, I blocked him permanently. Back home, I fell into a deep, troubled sleep, haunted by a kaleidoscope of fractured memories. Sometimes, I dreamed we were children, childhood sweethearts playing house, pretending to be bride and groom. Other times, we were grown, and he was on one knee, proposing with vows of eternal love that echoed like promises from another lifetime. Then, the scene would shatter. There was blood everywhere, and Declan was pointing at me, his eyes burning with a hatred so pure he looked like he wanted to devour me whole. My alarm jolted me awake. I touched the tips of my hair, damp with sweat, and let out a wry, tired sigh. It had been so long since I’d had that dream. I really had let go. If I hadn’t bumped into him today, I probably couldn’t have even pictured his face clearly. I glanced at the time. I couldn’t be late. I drove out to the old monastery nestled in the countryside. The abbot saw me and greeted me with a benevolent smile, his palms pressed together. “Ms. Wallace, welcome.” “Thank you, Father.” I returned the gesture, then passed out the New Year’s treats I had brought for the young monks. “Has everything been arranged on the other side?” the abbot asked gently. “Yes.” I nodded, offering no more. After today, after I had sponsored the last of the three thousand memorial candles, I could take Felix and leave this place for good. Inside the small meditation room, the furnishings were stark. A single table, a window, and a solitary memorial plaque. I walked over to it, my steps soft, and opened the bag I was carrying. “These were always your favorites,” I murmured, arranging the small snacks on the table. “Don’t eat too many, though. You don’t want to get cavities.” My throat tightened, and my nose began to sting. “I wonder… if they have cavities where you are now.” After the snacks, I took out the toys. “And these are the newest models for this year. You must be happy. Now there’s no one to tell you to go to bed early and get your rest.” A tear escaped and traced a path down my cheek. “I wonder how many hours you’re supposed to sleep over there. I wonder if anyone is looking after my little troublemaker.” My vision blurred as the tears flowed freely. I gently wiped the dust from the simple inscription on the plaque. Beloved Son: Felix Wallace Placed by his mother, Anya. No father. When I was finished, I carefully packed away my son’s ashes and his memorial. I descended the long stone staircase, all 9,000 steps of it, each one feeling like a year of our twenty-year history, now left behind. Back in the car, my husband called. “Are you all done?” he asked, his voice a warm comfort. “The world can wait. Come home when you’re ready.” I smiled. “Tomorrow.” These last five years, I had been lucky. I had found a good man. My life was good. Tonight was the Wallace family’s New Year’s Eve dinner. I made a special trip across town to a restaurant on the other side of the city to pick up my grandmother’s favorite roast duck. This might be the last time I ever saw her. But I should have known I wouldn’t be able to avoid them. My half-sister, Lily, was clinging to Declan’s arm, a triumphant smirk on her face. She shot me a provocative look. “Sister, you’re here! It’s been so long,” she chirped, then gasped theatrically, pointing at my simple, dark clothing. “Oh, Anya, after five years, have you started dressing like a nun? It’s New Year’s Eve! Why aren’t you wearing something more festive? Doesn’t Dad give you a generous allowance every month? This is such a downer.” Her voice sharpened. “Or is it that you just don’t care about this family at all?” Declan frowned beside her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit it back. “Anya,” he said instead, his voice strained. “Where’s Felix? Why didn’t you bring him with you?” My hand, holding my coat, froze for a second. “Felix is sleeping.” “Hmph.” A gruff snort came from the head of the table. My father, Mr. Wallace, glared at me, his eyes filled with disdain as they swept over my attire. “Just like you, no manners at all. He’s the youngest, shouldn’t he know to pay respects to his elders? Or do I need to send a royal procession to beg for his presence?” he sneered. “And look at what you’re wearing. Are you trying to make people think the Wallace family can’t even raise a presentable daughter?” I glanced at my grandmother, ignoring their barbs. It was the last time. I didn’t want to make a scene. It would all be over in an hour. But Lily wasn’t finished. She put on her signature act, her eyes welling up with fake tears. “Sister, I know you hate me. I know you don’t want Felix to acknowledge me as his aunt. If that’s the case, then I’ll just leave. I won’t be an eyesore for you.” As expected, my father’s face turned purple with rage. He grabbed a serving dish from the table and hurled it at me. “You wretched girl! You walk in here and the whole house turns toxic!” he roared. “You have the nerve to hate Lily? If it weren’t for you, would she have lost her child? Now get out of my sight!” “Child, just go…” My grandmother, frail in her wheelchair, reached a trembling hand toward me, her eyes filled with pain. “I know your heart, Grandma accepts your gift.” “Okay.” I gave her a deep, respectful bow and turned to leave. So much for a final meal. I heard hurried footsteps behind me, but they were quickly drowned out by Lily’s choked sobs. “Declan, honey, don’t. My sister is upset. Let her cool down. We can go visit her and Felix later.” I had just stepped outside when my phone rang. It was my best friend, Sophie. “Anya, are you an idiot? Why would you go back to that den of wolves? They’re a bunch of blind, biased assholes! And that bastard Declan was there too? Did they gang up on you?” She didn’t even pause for breath. “I know you still care about your grandmother, but you can’t keep going back there to be their punching bag.” I waited until she was done, then let out a soft laugh. “They didn’t do much. Mostly just said my clothes were ugly and not festive enough.” “I’ll give them ugly!” Sophie exploded again. “Those hypocrites have the gall to criticize your clothes? Have they given you a single penny all these years? It all went straight into that bitch Lily’s pocket! So they’re not even pretending anymore? Sleeping together behind your back, brother-in-law and sister.” “Publicly, your family disowned her for being so shameless, but what happened? They secretly funneled money and resources to her. And now that the scandal has died down, they welcome her back with open arms? They’re all trash.” “And Declan, that ungrateful snake. If your mother hadn’t died saving him, would your father have ever brought Lily and her mother into the house to torment you? And what does he do? He turns around and gets into bed with her. If lightning doesn’t strike that man down, there’s no justice in this world.” For someone who was usually so sweet and composed, she could really let loose. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You’re laughing? You’re actually laughing!” Sophie yelled, exasperated. “Anya, you’re just too good. If it were me, I would have burned that whole house down with them in it.” “It’s not about being good,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just… not worth it.” Besides, I had to accumulate good karma for Felix. Declan was a bastard, that much was true. But if he hadn’t been, he never would have been able to take back his family’s empire. When he was just a boy, his parents were killed in a vicious corporate takeover orchestrated by his own relatives. My mother died trying to protect him during that time, caught in their trap. Her body was never even found. The Prescott Corporation of today was built from the ashes by Declan, piece by piece. And I had been his right-hand woman. Together, we had overcome every obstacle, eliminated every rival. To help him get his revenge, I had leveraged every connection my mother’s family had. I was so focused on our mission that I never even saw when he and Lily started.

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On the day my husband, Gideon, gave our son’s life-saving meds to his childhood crush’s cat, I stopped being the wife he hated. Overnight, everything he disliked about me disappeared. He stayed out all night; I didn’t ask. His flirty texts; I ignored them. Even when we buried our son and he claimed a work emergency, I simply replied, “Okay,” and buried Jamie alone. His assistant watched my pale face with unease. “Mr. Pierce is swamped, ma’am. He’ll rush over after the meeting.” I remained silent, placing our son’s urn into the cold niche. Just before sealing it, Gideon’s car screeched to a halt. Drenched from the rain, he rushed over. “Sienna! Why didn’t you wait? I’m Jamie’s father!” My voice was flat. “Your work is important. Jamie would understand.” His heart clenched at my calmness. He reached for me, but whispers from onlookers stopped him. “Mr. Pierce only has eyes for Ms. Holloway. If she’d accepted his proposal, Sienna would’ve never married him.” Gideon turned back, urgent. “Tessa and I are just friends! I swear!” I handed him my umbrella. “I know. It’s raining. Use this.” I turned to leave. He grabbed my wrist. “If you’re angry, hit me! Why make it so damn unbearable?” Unbearable? He used to hate my tears, saying men can’t stand women who make scenes. Now that I was calm and understanding, why was he so upset? 1 I was about to shake his hand off when his phone blared, a jarring interruption in the heavy silence. Gideon frowned but answered. “I’m busy. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.” A tearful voice crackled through the speaker. “Gideon, Mochi is throwing up again. Can you please come see him? Please?” Mochi. That was the cat’s name. Gideon’s eyes flickered to me. When I offered no reaction, he immediately replied to the call. “Okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up. I pushed myself to my feet. My knees, numb from kneeling for so long, buckled beneath me. “Careful!” He lunged to steady me. I regained my balance and gently pulled my arm from his grasp. “Go,” I said. “A sick pet needs care. Drive safely.” I even retrieved his coat for him, holding it out with a steady hand. Gideon took it, a sharp, unidentifiable pain twisting in his chest. He walked to the door, then turned back suddenly. “I’ll be home for dinner tonight.” “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” Of course, he never came home. I made four dishes and a soup. I waited from seven until eleven. I reheated the food three times before finally scraping it all into the trash. At two in the morning, Tessa posted a new photo online. 【With you here, I’m not afraid of anything. Thank you, my guardian angel.】 The picture was of Gideon’s profile. He was frowning in concentration, giving a shot to a small cat, his expression focused and gentle. I liked the post. Then, I sent a message to my parents overseas. “The cooling-off period for the divorce ends in seven days. I’ll accept the arranged marriage you mentioned.” 2 For the next seven days, I practically lived at the office, trying to numb my hollowed-out soul with grueling work. My colleagues avoided my gaze, their whispers following me down the halls. “She’s such a workaholic. Her son just died and she’s already back at the office.” I said nothing, burying myself in spreadsheets. Tessa walked by with a coffee, pausing deliberately beside my desk. “Sienna, darling, don’t overdo it. Your health is important.” Her voice was soft, but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear her add, “She’s so focused on work, she didn’t even notice her own son was sick.” My fingers tightened around my pen. Gideon had never offered a single word of explanation about swapping the medication. He let the rumors fester, let the blame settle squarely on my shoulders. During the afternoon board meeting, Gideon’s father, the chairman, suddenly slammed a folder on the table. “Sienna, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re my daughter-in-law!” he roared. “You worked for three straight days on a project and ignored your own son’s fever! How did our family end up with a heartless woman like you?” I looked up at Gideon. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Dad, this whole thing…” “You shut up!” his father snapped, slamming his palms on the table and rising to his feet. “This is all your fault for spoiling her!” He stormed over to me and his hand flew up, striking my face with a sharp crack. “This first one is for killing my grandson!” I stumbled back, my cheek burning. Across the room, I could see a triumphant smirk playing on Tessa’s lips. “And this is for losing the company the Corbin account!” He struck me again, harder this time. My ears rang, and I could taste blood in my mouth. “When Mr. Corbin heard you don’t even care about your own son, he said he couldn’t trust a family with no humanity! He canceled the contract this morning!” Gideon finally moved. “Dad!” he shouted, jumping up from his chair. “What, you’re still going to protect her?” Gideon spread his arms in front of me. “If you want to hit her, you’ll have to hit me first!” His father’s voice trembled with rage as he pointed a shaking finger in my face. “You see? He’s still defending you! I’ve been too soft on you, let you get away with murder!” The third slap never came, but I was already swaying. The world went dark, and I collapsed. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Gideon was sitting beside me. “Tessa had a difficult childhood,” he began quietly. “Besides me, that cat was the only friend she had.” He paused. “Can’t you just let this one thing go? For us? Please?” I closed my eyes. “Sienna, let’s start over. Tonight, we can try for another baby. I’ll give you anything you want as compensation, I promise.” I finally turned my head to look at him, my throat raw. “And if I say no?” He froze, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “Don’t throw a tantrum.” I could still feel the stinging throb on my cheek. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I just want to know. Do I still have the right to say no?” 3 His last ounce of patience evaporated. “Get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you later.” He left quickly. As the door clicked shut, I heard Tessa’s concerned voice from the hallway. “Gideon, is she okay?” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to bring the medicine.” Gideon’s voice immediately softened. “It has nothing to do with you. She’s the one who can’t let it go.” I stared at the ceiling as a single tear escaped, sliding down my temple and disappearing silently into the pillow. I thought I had cried myself dry in the days after Jamie died, but it seemed I was wrong. The next day, a driver took me back to the Pierce estate. As I walked in, I saw Tessa sitting on the sofa, laughing with Gideon’s parents. She was cuddling Mochi, and tied around the cat’s neck was the little silver bell our son used to play with. The bell was one I had made myself for Jamie’s first birthday, with his name engraved inside. The doctor had advised me to get rid of his belongings after he passed. I had burned everything. Everything except that bell. It was the only thing I had left. “Oh, Sienna, you’re back,” Tessa said, standing up. “Mochi just loves this little bell. Gideon said Jamie wouldn’t be needing it anymore, so he let Mochi have it.” I walked past her without a word and snatched the bell from the cat’s collar. The startled animal hissed, its claws raking across the back of my hand, drawing blood. “Sienna, are you insane?” Gideon’s mother shrieked, rushing over. “It’s just a bell! Are you really going to pick a fight with a cat?” “She’s right, Sienna,” Tessa said, her eyes welling up. “If you’re upset, I apologize. Please don’t scare Mochi.” I clutched the bell, blood seeping between my fingers. Just then, Gideon walked in. His face darkened when he saw the scene. “What now?” Tessa immediately went to his side, tugging on his arm. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given the bell to Mochi.” Gideon’s gaze, filled with reproach, landed on me. “It’s a bell, Sienna. It’s not a big deal. Why are you making such a scene?” He strode over, pried the bell from my grasp, and tied it back around Tessa’s cat’s neck. “The world doesn’t revolve around you!” I looked down at the plane ticket confirmation on my phone for the day after tomorrow, then turned and walked back to my room without another word. The next day, I went to the office. My assistant informed me that Mr. Corbin was demanding a personal explanation from me. I nodded, picked up the file, and went to the conference room. Mr. Corbin sat at the head of the table, his expression grim. “Mrs. Pierce,” he said, his voice cold. “I hear you prioritize your work over your own son. How can I trust a business partner like that?” I stood my ground. “Mr. Corbin, the circumstances of that day…” “The circumstances are irrelevant,” he waved his hand dismissively. “The entire industry is talking about it. The Pierce daughter-in-law let her son’s fever rage while she was chasing a contract. I have children of my own. I have no respect for such a ruthless woman.” The other executives in the room were whispering, their eyes on me. Gideon sat beside them, silent. I took a deep breath. “What would you like me to do, Mr. Corbin?” He pushed a glass of clear liquid toward me. “Drink this. Apologize publicly. Say you were wrong to neglect your family for your career. And we’ll consider the matter closed.” It was a full glass of whiskey, at least two shots. I have a sensitive stomach; my doctor has forbidden me from drinking. I looked at Gideon. He averted his eyes. “Mr. Corbin is offering you a way out, Sienna. Just take it.” I picked up the glass, my hand trembling. Everyone was waiting for the show. Behind Gideon, Tessa was smiling. I took a sip. The liquid burned my throat. After the second sip, my vision started to blur. When the last drop was gone, I turned the glass upside down. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I was wrong.” Mr. Corbin finally smiled. “Well done, Mrs. Pierce. Very sporting.” I turned and fled to the restroom, where I collapsed over the toilet, vomiting until my body ached. Blood mixed with the bile, and I had to cling to the sink just to stay upright. Gideon followed me in, his face a mask of displeasure. “Are you okay?” I rinsed my mouth. “I’m fine.” “If you can’t drink, you shouldn’t have forced it.” “Didn’t you tell me to?” He was silent. He reached out to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. I took a step back. “Mr. Pierce. This is the office. We should maintain a professional distance.” His hand froze in mid-air. That afternoon, Gideon’s father summoned me to his study. A new agreement was laid out on the desk. “You will forfeit Jamie’s shares in the company,” he said flatly. “Furthermore, your position here is terminated. The Pierce family does not support freeloaders.” I had been wondering how I would get Gideon to sign the final divorce papers. Now, it seemed, the problem had solved itself. But just as my pen touched the paper, Gideon burst into the room. “Dad! She can’t sign that!” “What? Still protecting her?” Gideon glanced at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Tessa is pregnant.” 4 The pen slipped from my fingers, leaving a long, black gash across the page. Gideon’s father stared, then his face broke into a grin of pure elation. “Really?” “We just found out. She’s two months along.” “The timing… the baby will be born right around the time Jamie passed. It must be a sign from heaven.” Tessa appeared in the doorway, her head bowed. “Sienna… I’m so sorry.” My father-in-law had already forgotten I existed. He rushed to Tessa’s side, taking her hand. “My dear girl, come, sit down.” He beamed. “Two months! Gideon, you’ve finally done something right!” I stood frozen, a roaring in my ears. Two months. Jamie passed away just over two months ago. Of course. Gideon walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle embrace. “We can raise this child as our own,” he murmured. “It’ll be easier for you, don’t you think? You won’t have to suffer so much.” I looked at him, and for the first time, he seemed like a terrifying stranger. The three of them chattered excitedly about the new baby. No one noticed as I folded the agreement, tucked it into my purse, and walked out. That night, I packed my things. I had burned all of Jamie’s photos, keeping only a single small negative hidden in my phone case. But the bell was still on that cat. I had to get it back. I walked out of my room and saw Tessa standing in the doorway of what used to be Jamie’s nursery, holding Mochi. The room was empty now, and she was directing movers to bring in a large cat tree. “This will be Mochi’s new playroom,” she said, smiling sweetly when she saw me. “You don’t mind, do you, Sienna? Gideon said it was a shame to let the space go to waste.” I saw the bell, my son’s bell, tossed carelessly into a nearby trash can. My nails dug into my palms. “Oh, by the way, there’s something else I forgot to tell you,” she continued, her voice syrupy. “Don’t blame Gideon. That day, Jamie and Mochi both started coughing up blood at the same time. The vet said they both needed the medication immediately.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. Gideon had told me he hadn’t noticed Jamie was coughing up blood. “Gideon agonized over it for a long time,” Tessa purred.

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They call me the glass doll of the apocalypse. My skin is so fragile, a harsh wind feels like a slap. Everyone in Redemption Base knows I’m good for nothing but tears, a hothouse flower kept safe and sound by Silas. That was, until she arrived. The so-called War Goddess. She couldn’t stand the way Silas protected me. The moment he led his team out on a scavenger run to clear the Dead Zones, she stormed into my room and dragged me toward the hordes of the infected. “The Commander is out there fighting for his life, and you’re in here living like a queen? What gives you the right, you useless leech?” she sneered. “There’s no room for parasites in this world! Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson on his behalf!” I stumbled and fell, the gravel bit into my elbow, drawing blood. I curled into a ball, trembling. “Please… don’t hurt me,” I sobbed, my voice thin and reedy. “Silas and I… we’re linked. We have a pain-sympathy bond. If you hurt me, he’ll feel it… he’ll be furious.” The War Goddess, Jocelyn, just laughed, a cruel, sharp sound. She grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Still playing games? Silas is neck-deep in a tide of Rotters. You think he has time to notice a little scratch on you? I’m going to make you understand the rules of this new world, once and for all!” … The pain from my scalp was searing as Jocelyn dragged me out of my room, my bare feet stumbling over the rubble-strewn training grounds. “It hurts… please, it hurts so much…” I cried, reaching for her hand, only to be met with a vicious slap across the face. The impact sent me sprawling. My knee crashed against a sharp stone, the skin tearing, and beads of blood welled up instantly. The pain was blinding. I was the girl Silas had sheltered with the best of everything. A slightly-too-hot bath could leave my skin red and stinging. I had never known suffering like this. Tears streamed down my face as I hugged my knees, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. Miles away, in the heart of the Dead Zone in Sector S. A ten-foot-tall Tyrant roared, swinging a colossal axe down at the man standing atop a ruined skyscraper. Silas, clad in black combat gear, his expression cold as ice, should have dodged the blow with ease. But in that split second, an agonizing, shattering pain exploded in his knee. His left leg gave out, and he dropped to the ground, landing hard on one knee. “Commander!” his lieutenant screamed in terror. The axe blade whistled past, slicing off a lock of Silas’s dark hair. The veins on Silas’s hand bulged as he pushed himself up, gasping for air, his forehead drenched in a cold sweat. Rosie… Someone was hurting Rosie! Silas’s head snapped up. His dark eyes instantly flooded with crimson, a murderous rage blazed within him. He was out here risking his life, and someone back at the base dared to touch his girl? … Back at Redemption Base, the central plaza was bustling. It was ration distribution day, and thousands of survivors were gathered. Jocelyn dragged me onto the high platform and stomped her steel-toed boot onto my shin. “Agh!” I screamed, a pain like splintering bone shooting up my leg. Jocelyn looked down at the crowd, her voice booming. “Look, everyone! This is the parasite Silas has been protecting!” “While we risk our lives for half a slice of moldy bread, she hides in her villa, bathing in purified water and eating canned meat!” The crowd erupted. A thousand pairs of eyes, filled with hunger and resentment, locked onto me. “Why her?” “We barely have enough water to drink, and that bitch uses it for baths?” “Kill her! Make her give back the supplies!” A wicked smile played on Jocelyn’s lips. She leaned down, her breath hot against my ear. “Did you hear that, Rosie? That’s the will of the people.” “So what if Silas protects you? He’s not here now. I’m in charge.” “No… I didn’t…” I sobbed, struggling to breathe. I wanted to explain, but my voice was swallowed by the sea of curses. “Still talking back?” Jocelyn’s eyes went cold, and she ground her heel into my leg. “Tell me, everyone,” she yelled to the crowd, “does a parasite like this deserve to die?” “Yes! Kill her! Kill her!” Someone in the crowd threw the first stone. It struck me squarely on the temple. Warm liquid streamed down, blurring my left eye. My world dissolved into a smear of crimson. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out. I clutched my head, curling into a helpless ball, crying out the only name I could think of. “Silas… Silas, it hurts…” A hundred miles away. A storm of black, volatile energy erupted from Silas, shredding the dozens of Rotters swarming him into a paste of flesh and bone. He clutched his head, the world spinning as a phantom pain exploded behind his eyes. “Commander! Your head…” his lieutenant stammered, his face pale with shock. The Commander hadn’t been hit, yet a bloody welt was forming on his temple out of thin air. Silas’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed his lieutenant by the collar, his voice a raw rasp. “Back to base! Now!” The lieutenant glanced at the horde. “But Commander, we haven’t taken down the Tyrant yet. If we pull back now, everything we’ve done will be for nothing…” “I said get us back to the base!” Silas roared, slamming his fist into the armored truck’s door. The reinforced steel dented under the force. He could feel it. He could feel Rosie crying. She was in pain. Suddenly, a crushing agony shot through his left palm, as if every bone was being ground to dust. In the plaza, Jocelyn was stomping on my hand with her steel-plated boot. “Go on, scream! Keep screaming!” she taunted, twisting her foot viciously. “Your precious Silas is too busy playing savior of the world to care about a little tramp like you.” The pain was so intense I couldn’t even scream anymore, only broken whimpers escaped my throat. The pain in my fingers was directly connected to his heart. If I screamed, the feedback would be ten times worse for him. I couldn’t scream. I was afraid the pain would kill him out there on the battlefield. I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth, refusing to make another sound. Seeing me silent, Jocelyn spat on my face. “Useless. Gone mute, have you?” She turned to the survivors below. “Since you all hate her so much, I’ll do you a favor today. Anyone who can ‘teach this little princess a lesson’ gets a whole sausage!” A single sausage. In these times, it was enough to make someone sell their soul. A forest of hands reached for me. Stones and rotting vegetables rained down on my body. All I could do was cover my head and curl up tighter. Just as I thought I was going to be beaten to death, a woman pushed her way through the crowd. “Everyone, stop!” The voice was familiar. I struggled to open my blood-crusted eyes, peering through the gaps in my fingers. I saw a face I knew. My cousin, Sarah. Before the world fell apart, she was the only family I had left. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. I reached out a trembling hand. “Sarah… help me…” Sarah strode onto the platform. She looked down at my broken form on the ground, a flicker of pure satisfaction in her eyes. She kicked my hand away. “Don’t call me that. Who’s your cousin?”

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Genevieve gave me the silent treatment, all for her childhood friend. She left me stranded in a foreign country for three years. I had a shattered leg. I was penniless and didn’t speak a word of the language. My only means of survival was picking through trash. More than once, I called her, begging. “Genevieve, I’m not going to make it out here.” Her only reply was a cold, distant dismissal. “If it wasn’t for you, would Tristan have gotten hurt? I’ll bring you home when you’ve finally shed that spoiled heir attitude of yours.” What Genevieve didn’t know, or didn’t care to know, was that in this country, you couldn’t get a job without a permanent address. And without a job, you starved on the streets. The winter was brutal. I was half-buried in a snowdrift when a stunningly dressed woman from high society found me and took me in. Three years later, on a street in that same foreign city, Genevieve and Tristan blocked my path. “Alistair, it’s been three years. Haven’t you gotten over that pampered attitude yet?” I frowned, ignoring her. I pulled out my phone and called Isabelle. “Darling, another woman’s throwing herself at me. When you come to pick me up, bring the bodyguards. It’s time to take out the trash.” 1 The words had barely left my lips when Genevieve snatched the phone from my hand and ended the call. “Alistair, when are you going to grow up? You’ve even learned to lie.” As she spoke, a light snow began to fall. Her eyes, filled with disappointment, met mine. The scene threw me back three years. Genevieve and I were married young, a smooth transition from university sweethearts to husband and wife. The world saw us as the golden couple, a perfect match from powerful families. Her promise to me had been absolute: “Alistair, you’re the heir to a fortune, and I’m the darling of high society. We’re made for each other. No one can ever tear us apart.” Her devotion made me give her everything, from my shares in the company to the deeds to our properties. She was my world. In our first year of marriage, she wrestled control of my family’s corporation from my stepmother, ensuring my late mother’s portrait was hung in the main hall of the family estate. In our second year, she scoured the globe for the best doctors to help me overcome the childhood trauma that still haunted me. In our third year, she endured endless hospital visits and grueling rounds of IVF, determined to give me twins, a boy and a girl, so I could finally feel what it was like to have a real family. Even on our wedding day, as I carried her over the threshold, she had bowed her head so I wouldn’t have to bend mine. “Alistair,” she had said, “you are my husband. I want everyone to look past me and see you standing tall.” And so, wrapped in her love, I had been carefree and demanding. I made her text me back instantly, even during board meetings. I’d make her drive a thousand miles back from a business trip, just because I missed her. Even when she was pregnant, my every mood was her priority. If I mentioned a craving, she’d drive across the city herself to get it for me. That was Genevieve. My perfect wife. And then Tristan appeared, and everything changed. He was a childhood friend of hers. His family had moved away after going bankrupt years ago. When Genevieve found him again, he was being beaten by loan sharks on the street, the result of a disastrous affair with a married woman. The familiar face from her childhood, now bruised and alone, looked so utterly pathetic. Oh, and the night they met? That was the night she was out getting me a specific kind of takeout I wanted. I’ve hated myself ever since for wanting that damn food. It was Tristan who recognized her first. Two words were all it took to reignite a childhood crush. “Genevieve.” And just like that, she brought him home. I was waiting eagerly for my food, only to see her walk in with this sad, broken man trailing behind her. “This is Tristan,” she announced. “An old friend. He’ll be staying with us for a while.” 2 It was the first time she had ever brought another man into our home, and it was the first time I completely lost control in front of her. I destroyed everything I could get my hands on in the villa. A shard of glass flew and cut Tristan’s face. Genevieve rushed him to the hospital in a panic, completely ignoring me as the stress triggered my old leg injury. I collapsed on the floor, pleading with her. “Genevieve, my leg… it hurts.” As she helped Tristan out the door, she threw back one last line: “Stop pretending, Alistair.” So I went to the hospital alone. I had just finished my examination when the doctor told me, “You were two minutes away from losing that leg for good.” Then, he handed me a file. It was Genevieve’s. “Mr. Sterling, your wife is three months pregnant. You need to take good care of her.” The news washed away my anger. For the sake of our child, I could forgive her for tonight. When I stepped out of the office, I ran right into her. “Genny, you’re pregnant.” Her face was a mask of indifference. “I’m getting rid of it. I owe Tristan my life. I have to pay him back first.” For Tristan, she was willing to abort our child. “Genevieve, you dare. If you get rid of this baby, we’re getting a divorce.” I thought the threat would work. Instead, she slapped me. Then she tried to force me to apologize to Tristan. “You’re so childish, Alistair. Tristan is the one who’s hurt right now.” The pain of being compared to another man by the woman I loved was a knife in the heart. I was forced to apologize. I went back to my family’s estate, expecting her to come and coax me back. But in the end, I was the one who couldn’t stand it. I caved first. When I opened the door to our home, I found Tristan lying in our bed. He was wearing a pair of silk boxers, a gift she’d given me. The sight broke something inside me. I went mad. I grabbed Tristan and tried to throw him out of the house. But he fell down the stairs. The fall landed him in the hospital. The doctors said he had a severe head injury and would likely be brain-dead. It was a death sentence for him, and a life sentence for me. She looked at me with that same, crushing disappointment. “You’re a murderer, Alistair. Do you realize that?” A murderer? I didn’t push him. I tried to explain that the staircase wasn’t that high, that he had slipped on his own. She wasn’t listening. She just kept accusing me. “A pampered heir like you could never understand what Tristan has been through. In your world, his life is cheap, isn’t it?” I had nothing to say. Faced with this version of Genevieve, so fiercely protective of another man, the words wouldn’t come. Silence and a bitter smile were my only defense. She shoved me. “There you go again. You just shut down. You think this is funny?” Then, she delivered the final blow. “By the way, I had the procedure yesterday. The baby is gone. Consider it punishment for what you did to Tristan.” She threw the clinic report at me. The baby was gone. It felt like a million tiny threads were sewn into my skin, all pulling at once, trying to flay me alive. The pain was unbearable. I pulled myself together enough to say one thing. “I see.” But my punishment wasn’t over. She sent me abroad. “You can come back when Tristan wakes up. In the meantime, you can reflect on your attitude.” The final outcome of our “silent treatment” was this: she dumped me in a foreign country, stripped me of all my money, and cut off all my contacts. She left me with nothing and no one. She said it was for my own good. “Alistair, you need to feel what it’s like to truly suffer, like Tristan did. Only then will you understand.” 3 The snow in that foreign city was relentless. The first day, I slept in the airport, my eyes glued to the entrance, praying she would come back for me. The second day, security threw me out. They couldn’t understand me, and I couldn’t understand them. I had no money, no ID, nothing. The third day, I lost all my dignity. I grabbed a stranger’s leg and begged for money. He kicked me away, but then, perhaps out of pity, tossed a single bill on the ground and walked off. I clutched the money like it was my last hope on earth and ran to a payphone, dialing the number that was burned into my memory. She picked up quickly. I thought I could hear Tristan’s voice in the background, but all I could focus on was getting home. “Genevieve, please, bring me home.” Her voice was strange, her breathing heavy, her words broken and gasping. “Genevieve, are you there?” All she gave me were breathy murmurs. “Mmm… yes…” I thought she had heard me. I walked all the way back to the airport, my feet blistered and bleeding, my body numb from the cold. I waited for days. The pain in my leg grew worse. I remembered the doctor’s warning and used the last of my money—money I should have used for bread—to call her one more time. She answered with an accusation. “Alistair, can’t you handle a little hardship?” “Genevieve,” I said, my voice cracking, “my leg… if I don’t get treatment, they’re going to have to amputate.” The line went dead. I don’t know if she heard me. All I knew was the pain. My whole body ached. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. I just kept whispering her name. Before, she would have appeared like a goddess, descending to save me from any trouble. This time, I was cast into the abyss, and darkness swallowed me whole. After that call, I collapsed. A kind stranger got me to a hospital. The nurse delivered the diagnosis. The leg needed to be amputated. They required a signature from my next of kin. I stared at my leg and cried. The nurse tried to comfort me. “If your family is willing to pay, there is an alternative treatment…” “I don’t have anyone,” I said. “My wife is dead.” In that moment, all I saw in their eyes was pity. Genevieve was dead to me. She died the moment she chose him over me. She died on her way to get that takeout. She died the night she sent me away. The only person I had failed was myself. She was right. I was a pampered heir. I had no idea how to survive on my own. After that day, I never called her again. Occasionally, she would try to reach me through others, but I refused every attempt. Now, her voice cut through the memory, sharp and impatient. “Alistair, have some respect. I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?” I pushed her hand away. “Three years ago, did you ever listen to me?” If she had, I would still have both my legs. A bitter sting filled my nose. I took a step back and held up my hand, letting the diamond on my finger catch the light. “Genevieve, I’m remarried.”

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1 At three months pregnant, a drop of blood sent my husband racing down the highway at 110 mph. I sat beside him, watching his jaw clench as he hit the gas. Remembering how scared Cole used to be of driving, I reached out. “It’s okay, honey,” I whispered. “Just a little spotting. Maybe I scratched myself.” “I never thought you got your license for me. This is your first time driving. Please, slow down.” Cole stayed silent, lips tight. At the ER, the ultrasound showed the baby was fine. I sighed in relief—until I checked a local gossip forum and saw a photo of our car. I expected anger about his speeding. Instead, I froze. Holy sht! I never thought I’d see the Legend behind the wheel again! Welcome back, Cole, the King of the Track! Still drives a Ferrari like it’s the Grand Prix!* My ultimate ship! Didn’t Cole swear off driving after Ivy’s accident? Is Ivy back? Breaking: Original track queen Ivy is alive! Cole’s rushing to the airport to pick her up! Seven years of waiting—my heart’s exploding! We’d dated five years, married one. All that time, Cole never drove. He always said he didn’t even have a license. Now, watching him make soup in our kitchen, he felt like a stranger. … “Did you see the forums?” I asked, my voice trembling as I walked into the kitchen. “I saw them.” His face was completely devoid of emotion. But his hand twitched, dumping an extra spoonful of salt into the broth. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, forcing a casual tone. “It’s okay, honey. Everyone has a past. The fact that you broke your rule to drive me to the hospital makes me so happy…” “It was a one time thing.” He cut me off. A flicker of impatience crossed his face. “I’m not driving again. If you’re that worried about the baby, go stay with your parents.” I froze. Cole was always reserved, his words often blunt and unpolished. I was used to his communication style, knowing he rarely meant harm. But in this moment, a wave of intense grievance washed over me. Remembering the forum threads, I pieced together the past he had hidden from me. Cole and Ivy met at an elite racing club. He was a raw, talented rookie; she was the free-spirited, original “It Girl” of the motorsport influencer world. She taught him the nuances of the track. He was her co-pilot. They were each other’s first loves, the guardians of each other’s dreams. Until the day Ivy went into a rally race crying. Halfway through the course, her car veered off the track and plunged down a cliff. She vanished without a trace. Cole retired that same day, vowing never to touch a car again. My fingers tightened around my phone. A new notification popped up showing Ivy’s flight arrival information. My throat tightened. I wanted to stop him, but Cole was already walking out of the kitchen, grabbing his jacket. It was painfully obvious where he was going. “Cole,” I said desperately. “I want some soup.” Cole turned around, his expression unreadable. “Sienna, don’t overthink this. We are married. I just don’t want to watch her die in front of me again.” It was an impossible statement to argue with. When life and death are involved, any attempt to keep him home makes me look like the villain. But my pregnancy hormones and my breaking heart made me lash out. “You know we’re married? I am three months pregnant with your child! Are you really going to abandon me to go see another woman?” Cole’s back stiffened. He hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, his phone lit up. The caller ID flashed two piercing words. Ivy. Cole answered immediately, as if terrified she would hang up. “Ivy, I’m here.” Ivy’s soft laughter echoed through the quiet room. “Cole, I know you are. You promised. You said you’d always be there.” Cole glanced at me instinctively. He fell silent, unable to reply. Ivy continued, “I saw online that you have a wife now. I’m so happy for you, Cole.” “I don’t want to make things difficult for you. You don’t need to pick me up. I rented a car. I can drive myself back.” “You want to drive yourself?” Cole suddenly exploded, his voice rising in panic. “Don’t even think about it! Do you value your life at all? I will absolutely not allow you to drive ever again!” “What else can I do?” Ivy sighed, sounding utterly helpless. “I have no family left. Nobody is coming for me. There are so many paparazzi outside the airport. I can’t just take a cab, what if a stalker follows me?” “Don’t worry, my international license is still valid. I can manage.” Without another second of hesitation, Cole snatched my car keys from the table. “Stop talking. I’m coming to get you. Do not touch that steering wheel, I’m begging you. Okay?” “Welcome home.” “Wherever you want to go from now on, I will drive you.” 2 The front door clicked shut. My plea died in my throat, swallowed by the silence of the empty house. The baby seemed to share my grief. A sharp cramp twisted in my lower abdomen. I walked into the kitchen and turned off the stove. Remembering the doctor’s orders to stay hydrated, I ladled some soup into a bowl and took a sip. It tasted raw, metallic. The extra spoonful of salt made it bitterly salty. I poured the soup down the sink and crawled back into bed, refreshing the forum pages. The newest thread was blowing up. [Wait, false alarm! Cole was speeding to take his wife to the OBGYN. Rumor is she was bleeding. My friend at the hospital said his wife is just a regular civilian. Shows over, everyone.] [Cole is married? And not to Ivy? My shipper heart is broken!] [Hey above, don’t cry yet! Newest paparazzi shots show Cole at the airport! That pregnant woman is probably just a relative, or some random side piece! Cole swore he would never marry anyone but Ivy.] My eyes locked onto those cruel words. I couldn’t breathe. Without thinking, I pulled out our marriage certificate, snapped a photo with my burner account, and posted it in the comments. It was a desperate claim of ownership. The photo was shared instantly. [That really is his wife! The marriage license got leaked! Fellow shippers, meet me on the roof to jump!] [Didn’t someone say his wife was bleeding? I know this sounds evil, but I really hope she lost the baby. Otherwise, Cole and Ivy really have no chance. Real fans know how much Cole wants kids!] [Same! Praying the civilian wife miscarries!] [Hold up. This marriage license is photoshopped! Look closely. Even the seal from the county clerk is wrong! I refuse to believe Cole is a man who breaks his promises!] Blinded by fury at the toxic comments, I was about to reveal my identity when a notification popped up. Cole had retweeted my photo. He used his official verified account to share my burner’s picture of the marriage license. He added only one word. “Fake.” As if to prove it, he used a red digital pen to circle the official seal. I zoomed in. The county clerk’s seal was indeed incorrect, slightly blurred and pixelated. The marriage license Cole and I had framed on our wall… he had forged it? So, Cole and I weren’t even married? Seconds later, Ivy posted an update on her official account. “The marriage license is fake. Cole didn’t break his vow, guys! But we did break up a long time ago. The Cole/Ivy ship has sailed. Please stop shipping us, it’s not fair to the woman he lives with.” “But that doesn’t change the fact that Cole will always be the man who treats me best in this world.” The attached photo showed Ivy sitting in the passenger seat of my car, flashing a peace sign at the camera. Next to her was Cole, his eyes focused intently on the road. I couldn’t control the agonizing pain anymore. I dry heaved violently, clutching my stomach as a fierce, tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. The bleeding this time was much heavier. My vision blurred. I felt like I was dying. It was 2 AM. My parents were asleep, and I couldn’t bear to wake them. With trembling fingers, I called 911 for an ambulance. Then, I dialed Cole. If I needed surgery, he was the only emergency contact I had. “Cole, I’m bleeding again. Please, come home! I need to go to the hospital!” An annoyed sigh came through the receiver. “Didn’t we just get checked out a few hours ago? Everything was fine. Why are you bleeding again?” “Are you just making up excuses to force me to come home?” “Sienna, Ivy already posted a clarification online. Stop being so petty. Once I drop her off at a hotel, I’ll naturally come home to be with you.” I gritted my teeth, screaming into the phone. “You choose right now. Keep chauffeuring your ex, or save your unborn child.” “When the baby is gone, don’t you dare regret it.” It didn’t matter anymore. We weren’t married. I didn’t plan to keep this child under these circumstances anyway. But the physical pain was overwhelming. The moment I hung up, I collapsed onto the bed, blacking out from the agony. When I woke up, Cole was shaking my shoulders. His face was contorted with anger. “Sienna, you made me abandon Ivy in the middle of the night just so I could come back and watch you sleep?” 3 My brain was foggy. I instinctively reached down to check my pajama pants. Thankfully, the bleeding had slowed. I hadn’t bled out. “I was bleeding heavily,” I whispered, exhausted. “I was terrified. The pain made me pass out. I feel a bit better now. I called an ambulance, are they not here yet?” Cole clenched his jaw. “I sent them away. If you’re going to lie, why waste public resources on your little drama? Sienna, since when did you become so manipulative?” “Fine, you say you’re not lying. Where is the blood? Show me the blood!” The blood was in the toilet. I had flushed it before crawling back to bed. I stared at the fake marriage license on the nightstand. Cole was rarely this talkative. The more he spoke, the colder my heart grew. Let him think whatever he wants. I was done explaining. The standoff was broken by the scent of expensive perfume. A gorgeous woman with long, flowing hair walked into the bedroom, carrying a designer bag and smiling brightly. “Hi there! You must be Cole’s wife! I’m Ivy, his former teammate and ex-girlfriend.” I looked at her outstretched hand and let out a cold laugh. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not his wife. After all, our marriage license is fake.” A flash of guilt crossed Cole’s face. He opened his mouth to explain, but Ivy beat him to it. “Oh, don’t be mad at him! Cole is just stubborn like that, he doesn’t know how to bend the rules! I mean, what man can keep every promise he makes for a lifetime? And Cole, really, was that necessary? She’s carrying your child, you need to be sweet to her! Women get emotional, especially pregnant ones!” With just a few words, she painted me as the hysterical, unreasonable one. Cole cleared his throat. “I handled the license wrong.” “But don’t worry, the fact that we’re a couple hasn’t changed.” “Once things settle down, we’ll go get legally married. I’ll explain everything to the public then.” “The post earlier was just to stop people from mocking Ivy. She went missing for seven years, recovering alone in a foreign country. She finally came back to make a comeback, and I didn’t want her met with ridicule.” I cut him off, pointing directly at Ivy. “Get her out of my house.” Cole’s face darkened. “That’s enough, Sienna. She has no family, nowhere to go. What’s wrong with letting her crash here for a few days?” “Besides, I was going to help her find a hotel. But you lied to get me back. I had no choice but to bring her with me.” “Ten years ago, she almost died driving a race car because of me. How could I leave her on the side of the road?” “You’re about to be a mother. How can you have zero empathy?” I pushed myself up and grabbed my coat. “Fine. The house is yours. I’m leaving. Wish you two the best.” Cole grabbed my wrist. “Sienna, why do you think I’m standing here right now? I chose you.” “Stop playing the victim.” He shoved me roughly back onto the bed. Without sparing me another glance, he locked the bedroom door, then turned to grab Ivy’s sleeve. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the guest room.” He still didn’t understand. I never wanted to be a choice. I wanted to be the only one. Outside the door, Ivy laughed. “I told you I’d be fine alone. Why go through all this trouble?” “Driving a regular car isn’t like driving a race car. It’s not that dangerous. Besides, my accident back then was your fault anyway. Who told you to break up with me right before a race?” “Or… are you regretting it now? Do you want to take back the breakup?” Both Cole and I froze on opposite sides of the door.

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I was on a flight home for my wedding after wrapping up a project overseas when the plane went down. When Victoria Hawthorne heard the news, she called my phone, frantic. I was pinned in the twisted metal, unable to move, letting the calls go to voicemail. “I don’t care what it costs, you have to find Nathaniel Ashton!” My heart swelled with love for her, but then I heard the rest of her sentence. “Once you find him, transplant his heart into Marcus. Marcus doesn’t have much time left.” … “Ms. Hawthorne, Mr. Ashton’s legs are shattered. We need to operate immediately, or he’ll be crippled for life.” Victoria’s voice was like ice. “No. Marcus’s surgery comes first. We can’t risk any delays. Besides—” Her voice grew colder still. “A cripple is easier to control. When I bring my son home, he won’t be in any position to object.” I lay just a few feet away from her, tears streaming down my face. The wedding I had looked forward to for ten years was nothing but a charade. And I was just a tool. Later, because of me, this very tool, Victoria would tear the heart from Marcus’s chest with her own hands. Rescue workers spotted me and carefully lifted me from the wreckage. Every inch they moved was a fresh agony, like being pierced by a thousand knives. But it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. Seeing me lying there, motionless, Victoria spoke without restraint. “I’ve had the artificial heart flown in. After the surgery, tell him his own heart was ruptured in the fall. I don’t need to spell out the rest, do I?” The doctor, busy dressing my wounds, looked increasingly distressed. He couldn’t help himself. “Ms. Hawthorne, Mr. Ashton’s legs are broken. If we don’t operate now, he will be permanently disabled. He’s such a proud man… he won’t be able to handle it.” Victoria didn’t hesitate. “No. Marcus’s surgery is the priority. We can’t afford any delays. And—” Though my eyes were closed, I could feel her cold gaze on me. “I promised Marcus years ago that our child would be the sole heir to the Hawthorne fortune. That will never change.” “Marrying me is the best outcome Nathaniel could ever hope for. As long as he’s obedient and treats my son as his own, I’ll be good to him.” The doctor was still hesitant. “But what if Mr. Ashton finds out the boy is your biological son?” Victoria gently took my one uninjured hand, her thumb tracing patterns on my fingers. “He’s so naive. He hasn’t figured it out in the last five years. He won’t figure it out in the future.” She suddenly leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I had to fight every instinct to keep from flinching away. Victoria’s whisper was a demon’s caress. “During the surgery, please make sure he feels no pain.” “Use the best of everything. He has a very low tolerance for pain.” The doctor couldn’t bear to look anymore and sent someone to prepare the operating room. “Ms. Hawthorne, if you don’t love Mr. Ashton, why did you agree to marry him? Why not just marry Mr. Donovan? That way, no one would have gotten hurt…” Victoria’s voice was detached, emotionless. “Because the husband of a Hawthorne must be an Ashton.” A fresh wave of pain washed over me. For all these years, I thought our love was mutual. I had even bragged to my friends that it was possible to find true love in an arranged marriage. What true love? She wasn’t interested in me. She was interested in the Ashton family’s power and my own gullibility. Victoria personally wheeled me into the operating room. Along the way, she repeatedly instructed the surgeons to ensure the procedure was a success and to minimize my suffering. The other doctors and nurses whispered about how lucky I was to be so cherished by the great Victoria Hawthorne. As the doors to the operating room swung shut, I heard her making a call. “Destroy the plane’s black box. Make sure it’s clean. And the personnel involved? Send them all away. Leave no loose ends.” “After today, this was an ordinary aviation accident, understand?” My chest suddenly ached with a tearing, visceral pain that spread through my entire body. A profound emptiness filled my thoracic cavity. Is this what it felt like to have your heart ripped out? I had wondered how I survived the crash. Now I knew. It was all Victoria’s design. She wouldn’t let me die. My heart was too useful. And so was I. The anesthesia began to claim me, and the world dissolved into nothing. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Victoria was asleep in a chair beside me, one hand resting protectively on mine. The slight movement of my fingers startled her awake. Her eyes lit up. “Darling, you’re awake! Are you in any pain? I’ll get the doctor right away.” 2 Looking at her worried face, you would never guess she didn’t love me. Her hand was warm, but her touch sent a chill through my entire body. I gently pulled my hand away. My voice was a raw scrape. “It hurts.” “Victoria, when the plane was going down, I thought I’d never see you again. I was so scared.” “Do you know what it feels like to drown in the ocean? It’s dark, silent… everything around you is dead…” Victoria’s expression faltered. She quickly stood up and rushed out to find a doctor, completely forgetting about the call button right next to the bed. I stared at the phone she’d left on the nightstand. I had never looked at her phone before. I had always given her my complete trust. But now, like any man who suspects his partner of cheating, I picked it up. The password was a simple 1111. Before, I would have thought she was just too lazy to think of something more complex. Now I knew. It was Marcus’s birthday. Victoria, the woman who claimed she never changed contact names, had made an exception for the one person who mattered to her. Marcus was the period at the end of her life’s sentence. I suddenly remembered, six years ago, Victoria had gone abroad for a year to handle a corporate merger. She wouldn’t let me visit, saying she didn’t want me to overwork myself. Now I realized she had been giving birth to her child. Their chat history was sparse, mostly photos of the boy that Marcus sent her. But no matter what time he sent them, Victoria always replied thoughtfully. When I messaged her, she was always impatient. Sometimes she’d let a dozen of my texts pile up before sending a single “OK.” I used to tell myself that a CEO was always busy, that she was making money for us. The truth was, she just didn’t have time for me. She had even forged my infertility report. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to have a child with me. Tears blurred my vision. I saw a photo of her and Marcus kissing their son’s cheeks, one on each side. A perfect, happy family. Hearing footsteps approach, I placed the phone back where I found it. The first thing Victoria saw when she came in was my tears. She rushed to my side. “Where does it hurt? Why are you crying?” “Doctor! Come and see what’s wrong with him!” After the doctor finished his examination, he cautioned me to remain calm. “Mr. Ashton, you now have an artificial heart. The severe injuries to your legs have resulted in significant nerve damage. It’s highly likely you will be permanently disabled. It’s best for you to maintain emotional stability.” Victoria clutched my hand, her face a mask of sorrow. “Darling, it’s okay.” “Whether you can walk again or not, you are the man I love most. I will only ever have one husband, and that’s you.” I looked into her soulful eyes. For the first time, I realized she had the makings of a world-class actress. Just moments ago, I had seen her chat with her assistant on her phone. The wedding was to proceed as planned. Clicking through the wedding details she had personally approved, I saw the truth. From the very beginning, the man she intended to walk down the aisle with was Marcus. The backdrop, the invitations, the marriage certificate—everything was for Marcus. Including Victoria. I exhaled slowly and wiped my tears. “The wound hurts.” Victoria knew how much I hated pain. My simple explanation dispelled her suspicion. “Vicky, can we postpone the wedding? In my condition, I don’t think I can make it.” She frowned. “We’ve already sent out all the invitations. It’s too late to reschedule.” “But we could find another way. What if we have someone stand in for you, just for the ceremony?” She delivered the line so smoothly, it was as if she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. I nodded. “Whatever you think is best.” She stayed with me for most of the day before a phone call pulled her away. “Nathaniel, I have to preside over an emergency meeting at the office.” I showed no sign of distress, simply telling her to go. I pretended I hadn’t heard the sound of a child crying on the other end of the line. Once I was sure she was gone, I contacted a medical facility overseas and asked them to find me a heart donor. An artificial heart was a temporary solution at best. As for my identity here, I was preparing to erase it. For the next few days, she spent all her free time at the hospital with me, attending to my every need. If I casually mentioned a craving, she would go to any length to get it for me.

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Victoria got into a car accident picking up my car. A fractured tibia. By the time I rushed to the hospital, a young man with eyes swollen red from crying was screaming in my face, his words a relentless tirade. “What right do you have to make Ms. Beaumont get your car? If you weren’t so lazy, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” “Do you have any idea she broke her leg? And fractured a rib…” He spoke with an infuriating sense of entitlement, like a manager scolding a delinquent employee. It wasn’t just me; Victoria’s friends and family, who had come to visit, were all stunned into silence. Victoria shot him a fond, almost doting look before turning to me, her voice soft and placating. “He’s just young, trying to stand up for a client. He’s very direct, don’t mind him.” Her heart clearly wasn’t with me anymore. So no, I didn’t mind. I stared at the boy, my expression a blank mask, waiting calmly until his histrionics ran out of steam. “Are you finished? Good. My turn.” My voice cut through the quiet room. “This is the second time your dealership has made such a critical error. If you don’t provide a satisfactory explanation, you can expect to hear from the police and the Quinn family’s legal team.” 1 The boy’s face went pale, and his eyes darted to the woman on the bed, pleading for help. Victoria’s expression tightened. “Alexander, it was my mistake. I lost control of the car. It had nothing to do with him. I’ve already handled the accident report.” “You lost control?” I raised an eyebrow, my gaze fixed on her. “What’s the damage?” Victoria coughed. “I’m fine. Just the broken leg and a slight concussion. It’s nothing to—” I cut her off. “I’m asking about the car.” My coldness seemed to physically wound the boy. His voice cracked as it shot up an octave. “Ms. Beaumont is in the hospital, and all you care about is your car? Do you even have a heart?” “You must be Ryan, then?” I said, my voice dangerously soft. I casually slipped my hands into my pockets, my face unreadable. “First, that car is a limited global release valued at over two and a half million dollars.” “Second, Victoria is my wife, in the eyes of the law. Is there a problem with her picking up my car for me?” “And finally…” I paused, my eyes dropping to his hand, which was clutching the fabric of Victoria’s hospital gown. “You’re just a college student she sponsored. On what grounds, exactly, are you standing here interrogating me?” Ryan’s face turned a deep shade of crimson. He instinctively let go of her gown but still tried to defend himself. “I… I’m just worried about Ms. Beaumont!” “You could have gotten the car yourself! You made her go, and now that she’s hurt, you can’t even muster a single word of concern…” I glanced at a text from my assistant that had just come through and let out a cold, humorless laugh. “You should be more worried about yourself.” “The damage assessment is in. Preliminary repair costs are estimated to be upwards of three hundred thousand dollars. Will that be cash or card?” Ryan’s legs gave out from under him. He swayed, staring at me with a mixture of defiance and despair. “Three… three hundred thousand? That’s extortion!” He then looked desperately toward Victoria. “Ms. Beaumont…” Victoria struggled to sit up, hissing in pain as the movement jarred her injuries. “Alexander, he just graduated, he’s just a kid. Where would he get that kind of money? Don’t scare him.” She looked at me, her voice firm. “It was my mistake. I’ll pay for it.” A triumphant smirk flickered across Ryan’s face. I stared at her, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Quite the generous benefactor, aren’t we, Ms. Beaumont? Was gifting him an entire dealership not enough?” Victoria clearly hadn’t expected me to know. Her expression froze. Ryan, all his previous bravado gone, bit his lip and mumbled, “Mr. Quinn, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t blame Ms. Beaumont. She only helped me start the business because she felt sorry for me.” Victoria sighed and waved a dismissive hand at him. “This has nothing to do with you. You should go home.” Ryan shuffled toward the door, head down, casting long, lingering glances back at the bed. Just as he reached the doorway, he spun around and rushed back. He pressed a small, delicately carved wooden charm into Victoria’s palm. His eyes, misty with tears, held a look so tender it was practically tangible. No one watching them could believe there was nothing between them. Ryan bit his lip, gave her one last reluctant look, and finally left. As he passed me, he whispered, “Mr. Quinn, it was my fault. The car wasn’t properly inspected before Ms. Beaumont drove it off the lot. That’s why she crashed.” He glanced down at the charm in her hand. “Please don’t misunderstand. I carved that for her myself. I was just hoping it would bring her some luck… ward off any evil.” Not properly inspected? But the dealership had called me specifically to tell me the car was ready for pickup. The last time, when the brakes failed… could that have also been a lack of inspection? 2 “Alexander, I’ve been meaning to tell you about the dealership.” Victoria’s voice pulled me back to the present. We were alone in the room now. A smile played on her lips as she carefully set the wooden charm on her bedside table and reached for my hand. “It was Ryan’s graduation and his birthday, so I got him a gift. That’s all. Surely my big-shot CEO isn’t jealous, is he?” She said it so casually, as if she’d given away a cheap toy. I shifted, avoiding her touch. “Is that your type?” The air in the room went still. Victoria’s smile faltered. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell you because I was worried you’d overthink it.” “There is nothing going on between Ryan and me. We’re—” “I don’t care.” My interruption was blunt, indifferent. “I may not have caught you in bed, but I don’t tolerate filth in my life, Victoria. Drop the act. Making a scene would be ugly for everyone.” She looked up at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You don’t believe me?” I met her gaze, my own eyes flat and emotionless. My silence was the only answer she needed. She was about to say more, but her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The name “Ryan” glowed on the screen, a glaring insult. Victoria hesitated before answering. Ryan’s pathetic, whimpering voice immediately filled the silence. “Ms. Beaumont, is Mr. Quinn giving you a hard time? Even if he’s angry, please don’t fight with him, okay?” “I ordered some bone broth from The Gilded Spoon for you. I won’t bring it myself, though. I don’t want Mr. Quinn to get the wrong idea.” Two simple sentences, and he’d managed to play the victim, curry favor, and subtly remind her of their intimacy all at once. I stood motionless. Victoria glanced at my face, then quickly ended the call. A cold smirk touched my lips. I was done with this charade. I turned and walked out of the room. “Alexander!” Victoria called out desperately. “Are you really that angry?” “I promise, I’ll stay away from him. I’ll cut off all contact. Just… please don’t be so cold to me. Please?” Her voice trembled. “My leg hurts…” I turned my head slightly, my voice devoid of any warmth. “If your leg hurts, call a doctor. I have work to do. You get some rest.” Outside the hospital, the crisp night air did little to quell the rage simmering in my gut. I pulled out my phone and called my assistant. “I want you to dig into that kid, Ryan. Everything you can find. I suspect he was involved in my brake failure last time.” After the last service, my brakes had given out on the highway. I’d had to swerve into the median to avoid a catastrophic pile-up. Later that evening, the manager of a luxury watch boutique arrived at my office, sent by Victoria. He presented dozens of obscenely expensive timepieces for me to choose from. “Ms. Beaumont is so devoted to you, Mr. Quinn. A love like that is truly something to be envied.” I glanced over the collection of watches, a bitter irony twisting in my stomach. “You’re mistaken. A man who cheats will spend the night whispering ‘I love you’ to his wife, trying to wash away his own guilt.” I looked the manager in the eye. “Women are no different.” Victoria thought I was just throwing a tantrum. She probably saw me as one of those men who marry up, who, upon discovering their wife’s infidelity, resort to tears and threats before being placated with an expensive gift and a lavish party. She seemed to have forgotten who I was. I am Alexander Quinn. I may not have been born into a corporate dynasty like her, but I built my own empire. At sixteen, I was fast-tracked into a top international university. By twenty-two, I was carving out a name for myself on Wall Street. By twenty-five, I had returned to the country as her direct competitor. We got married not because I couldn’t live without her, but because she promised me a lifetime of fidelity—one man, one woman, forever. What a joke. In just five short years, she’d tossed that promise aside like it was nothing. 3 The next day, I received a friend request on my messaging app from Ryan. The note read: Mr. Quinn, I’d like to explain the issue with your car’s service. The day was a blur of back-to-back meetings. That evening, I had to catch a flight back to my hometown for my uncle’s—my only living relative’s—70th birthday party. I didn’t even see the request until I landed. I accepted it. A voice message came through almost instantly. It was Ryan, explaining that the mechanic who worked on my car was a temp who had since stopped showing up for work and was unreachable. I didn’t reply. As I swiped back, my thumb accidentally opened his social media profile. His latest post was from half an hour ago. The picture was of Victoria, sitting on the sofa in our villa, sipping soup. In the background, you could clearly see the oil painting I’d paid a fortune for at auction and the custom-made Italian rug. What made my blood run cold was that Ryan was wearing my favorite silk robe and my slippers. He was beaming, squeezed in beside her, holding his phone up for a selfie with one hand while making a peace sign with the other. The caption read: Finally able to take care of you while you’re sick. Even though people misunderstand, the truth will speak for itself. Homemade bone broth to help you heal faster. I screenshotted it and sent it to Victoria. “Living in my house, wearing my clothes, getting cozy with my wife. Is this what you call ‘nothing going on’?!” She replied instantly: Alexander, he spilled soup on his clothes, he’s just borrowing yours for a bit. He was only trying to be nice. Don’t read too much into it. I laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Trying to be nice?” “Or was making soup just an excuse to play house in my home? What’s the plan, dress up in my clothes and hope you can just replace me?” Could you stop being so cynical? her tone shifted. You’re never around. He came here specifically to take care of me. Can’t you show a little grace? You weren’t like this before, Alexander. When did you become so overbearing, so ruthless? I stared at the screen and laughed until it hurt. Overbearing? Ruthless? When the Beaumont Corporation’s funding dried up, it was my “overbearing” leadership that pushed my team through a month of sleepless nights to secure the critical investment that saved her company. When her father was gravely ill, it was “ruthless” me who dropped a multi-million-dollar acquisition and sat by his hospital bed for two weeks. She used to say she admired my decisiveness, my killer instinct in the boardroom. But now that she had her gentle, considerate little angel by her side, I was suddenly just cynical and harsh. My uncle insisted I stay an extra day, so it wasn’t until the third morning that I took the earliest flight home. The digital lock hadn’t been changed, but my fingerprint had been deleted. I stood on my own doorstep and rang the bell. The man who opened the door was Ryan. This time, he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts. His hair was wet, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. “Mr. Quinn?” he asked, feigning surprise. “What are you doing back? Ms. Beaumont is still asleep…” I cut him off. “This is my house. Do I need an invitation?” “Get out of my way.” “That’s not what I meant,” he said, stubbornly blocking the doorway. “But Ms. Beaumont is resting, and you seem like you’re in a bad mood. I don’t want you to disturb her…” I’d had enough. I shoved him aside. “Get lost.” The noise woke Victoria. She emerged from the bedroom, leaning on a crutch. Seeing the tense standoff, she frowned. “What’s going on?” 4 Before Ryan could even speak, tears started streaming down his face. “Ms. Beaumont, I’m so sorry. You were so exhausted last night, I just wanted you to get some more sleep. I didn’t mean to offend Mr. Quinn.” He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and turned his face, like a little white rabbit that had been horribly bullied. The tips of his ears, however, were bright red. Victoria coughed twice, then looked at me. “Alexander, you’ve completely misunderstood. Apologize to him.” I ignored her and sat down on the sofa. My eyes scanned the room and landed on the display shelf. The silver frame holding my wedding photo with Victoria was gone. In its place sat the hand-carved wooden charm from Ryan, now displayed proudly on a polished mahogany stand. On the coffee table, a pair of men’s underwear—not mine—lay discarded. “No wonder you tried to stop me at the door. You two certainly know how to have a good time, don’t you?” Ryan scrambled to pick up the underwear, his voice choked with tears. “These are mine! I washed them! They were just drying here…” “Drying? In the living room?” I sneered. “Victoria has a broken leg. Tell me, just who was servicing whom? Was it comfortable?” Ryan’s face flushed a violent shade of red. He stammered, “Mr. Quinn, you… you’ve got it all wrong. Me and Ms. Beaumont… we didn’t do anything.” “That’s enough!” Victoria snapped, glaring at me. “Alexander, do you have to be so vulgar? Do you enjoy humiliating him?” “He’s just an innocent young man, not like you, with your mind full of schemes!” I looked up at her. “And what, exactly, have I been scheming?” “You’ve been scheming how to embarrass him, how to ruin his reputation! How to make me bend to your will, so I’ll only ever have eyes for you!” Victoria’s voice rose with every word. “Yes, I let him stay here! But nothing happened between us!” “He was taking care of me, and I was grateful. It’s that simple! Why do you have to assume the absolute worst of people?” “Whether people are good or bad doesn’t interest me,” I said, pulling a folder from my briefcase. “But this does.” “Six months ago, you used Beaumont corporate funds and resources to set him up with a dealership. An investment of two million dollars, which you filed under ‘charitable donation’.” “Did you get board approval for that, Victoria? Misappropriating company funds to keep a lover on the side. How does that sound as a criminal charge?” Victoria’s face went ashen. “You investigated me? He’s not my lover!” “Then what is he?” I stood up and walked over to Ryan. “Mr. Park, why don’t you tell us? What are you?” Ryan bit his lip. “I… I just admire Ms. Beaumont. I was grateful for her help, so I came to look after her for a couple of days…” “Admire her enough to wear my clothes and sleep in my bed?” I gestured toward the master bedroom, where the door was slightly ajar. “I saw you both come out of my bedroom, Victoria. How do you explain that?” She gritted her teeth. “Believe it or not, Ryan slept on the floor so he could be close by to help me. We did nothing!” “I don’t care if you slept together or not.”

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