I used to be Christian Sterling’s placeholder. But after years of breaking up and making up, Christian convinced me—and himself—that I was his true love. He claimed Summer Vance, his gilded muse, was ancient history. Once the misunderstandings were cleared, we finally tied the knot in a lavish wedding. But only a year into our marriage, I discovered he was still collecting memorabilia of his precious Summer. And worse? I was just one of his many collectibles. A leopard never changes its spots. So, I decided to pack my bags, drain his bank accounts, and run. Traveling the world with over a hundred million dollars in my pocket sounds infinitely better than being the miserable Mrs. Sterling, doesn’t it? On our first wedding anniversary, I spent four hours slow-cooking Christian’s favorite organic chicken broth. I stood in the dining room, looking up at our wedding portrait on the wall. In the photo, Christian’s eyes were filled with an intense, melting tenderness. Everyone in our social circle said I, Vivian Lane, must have won the husband lottery. They said it was a miracle I went from being Summer’s cheap replacement to the official Mrs. Sterling. It was no secret in high society that Christian had an ex-girlfriend he loved to his very bones: Summer Vance. After Summer moved abroad, Christian met me. Because my eyes and brows looked about seventy percent like hers, he began to pursue me with a near-obsessive intensity. I had suffered and struggled because of it. I even tried to cut ties completely. But Christian’s gentle, relentless affection was suffocatingly perfect. After breaking up and getting back together more times than I could count, my heart finally softened. He would drive thirty miles in the dead of winter just to deliver a hot matcha latte to my office when I worked late. He would cancel million-dollar contracts just to stay by my side at the hospital when I caught a fever. And when his elitist parents looked down on my family background, he held my hand firmly and declared to the media, “I’m marrying Vivian, and no one else.” He proved with his actions that I wasn’t anyone’s shadow. He loved me. Vivian. At our wedding, he slipped a massive diamond ring onto my finger, kissed the back of my hand with absolute devotion, and choked up. “Vivian, thank you for finally showing me the way home.” At that moment, I believed I was the happiest woman alive. Our first year of marriage was pure bliss. He spoiled me like a princess, granting my every whim. I truly believed that the chapter about his gilded muse had been closed forever. Until today. In his private study, I found a beautifully wrapped velvet box. It was palm-sized, emerald green, and tied with a silver silk ribbon. It looked incredibly expensive. My heart began to hammer against my ribs. Was this our anniversary gift? But he had already given me a diamond tennis bracelet this morning. With trembling fingers, I untied the ribbon. The box clicked open. Inside lay a necklace. It was a platinum chain with a small, intricately carved crescent moon pendant. It was stunning, but it wasn’t my style at all. I only wore minimalist, geometric jewelry. Christian knew this; every gift he bought me always aligned perfectly with my aesthetic. The smile froze on my face. Could it be…? I stared at the crescent moon, and a name screamed in my head—Summer. Summer Vance was obsessed with anything related to the moon and stars. I remembered seeing an old photo of her. On her wrist, she had worn a moon-shaped bracelet. A cold shiver ran down my spine, making me shake violently. Suddenly, the front door clicked. Christian was home. As if burned, I snapped the box shut and shoved it back into the depths of the drawer. I rushed out of the study, forcing a natural smile. “You’re home! Go wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.” Christian walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Nothing beats coming home to you. That broth smells amazing. You’re the best, Vivian.” His warm breath brushed against my ear, but I couldn’t stop myself from trembling slightly. At the dinner table, I acted casual. “Oh, by the way, I stopped by your office today. I noticed your assistant was wearing a new bracelet. A moon shape. Is that style trending lately?” Christian’s hand paused mid-air. “Oh, that? It was just a corporate gift from a vendor. They sent a bunch to her department. Just some cheap retail stuff, I didn’t really look at it.” He spoke too fast, too smoothly. It sounded like a script he had rehearsed a thousand times in his head. My heart sank into a cold, dark abyss. We had been together for three years and married for one. I thought I knew everything about him. Yet, at this moment, I realized with terrifying clarity that Christian lied just as beautifully as he whispered sweet nothings. That night, I blamed a headache and slept facing away from him. At midnight, his phone screen lit up. A notification popped up. I squinted, reading the text clearly in the dim light. The contact name was: Luna 🌙

The text read: “Thank you for the necklace, Mr. Sterling. I love it so much.” Luna. The moon. That crescent moon necklace that wasn’t meant for me. I closed my eyes, feeling like a drowning victim. My seemingly perfect marriage was sinking into a pitch-black ocean. So, I wasn’t the end of his search for a replacement. I was just a temporary port. And now, a new “moon” had arrived. The next day, I was completely checked out. The name “Luna” was like a poisoned thorn festering in my chest. In the afternoon, I fabricated a lie about dropping off some urgent financial documents and drove over to his corporate headquarters. Instead of torturing myself with doubts, I wanted to see the truth. Some things must be seen with your own eyes before you can completely let go. Christian’s company occupied the top floors of a prestigious skyscraper in the financial district. The receptionist immediately offered a sweet, professional smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Sterling. Mr. Sterling is in a board meeting. Would you like to wait in the executive lounge?” “No, thank you. I’ll just wait here,” I replied with a polite smile, but my eyes were already scanning the open-concept office space. I had imagined a hundred versions of “Luna.” Maybe she was a sultry femme fatale, or a sharp, sophisticated corporate climber. But I never expected her to look like this. Near the reception desk, a girl in a white sundress was laughing and chatting with a coworker. She had long, straight, jet-black hair—exactly like Summer’s in those college photos. When she laughed, the corners of her eyes tilted down slightly, giving her an innocent, vulnerable look. But most importantly, around her pale neck, the silver crescent moon pendant caught the harsh fluorescent light, glaring right into my eyes. My blood turned to ice. The resemblance was uncanny. She looked far more like a young, flawless Summer than I did now. Over the years of our marriage, I had gradually shed the awkward, imitated habits of Summer and become more like my true self. The irony was painful. I thought I was finally allowed to be Vivian, but it turned out the ghost of Summer was the only thing that actually mattered to him. A passing employee waved at her. “Hey, Luna, grab lunch with us later?” The girl beamed. “Sure thing!” Luna. So her real name was Luna Brooks. I caught sight of her intern badge: Luna Brooks, Marketing Intern. An intern. Christian’s lie was a brutal slap to my face, leaving it burning with humiliation. “Corporate vendor gift?” “Sent to her whole department?” All complete garbage. He had deliberately gone out of his way to buy a special welcoming gift for this fresh, new replica of his ex. While I stood there frozen, the conference room doors opened. Christian emerged, flanked by a dozen executives. He spotted me immediately. He walked over quickly, naturally wrapping his arm around my waist in front of everyone. “Vivian? What are you doing here? You should have called.” His hand was warm against my lower back, but it made me shudder. I looked past his shoulder, staring directly at Luna. Luna was looking back at us. Her gaze flickered between Christian and me with a mix of curiosity and subtle calculation. Christian clearly noticed where I was looking. His body went rigid for a split second. Then, he did something that made my heart turn to ash. He turned around and called out in a professional, yet overly familiar tone, “Luna, come over here for a second.”

Luna walked over with light, airy steps, looking as innocent as a lamb. “Vivian, this is our new marketing intern, Luna Brooks.” Christian’s voice was smooth, showing no cracks. “Luna, this is my wife.” “Luna.” He called her by her first name, so casually, right in front of me. Luna smiled, her eyes crinkling into sweet half-moons. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sterling. I’m Luna. Everyone in the office talks about you. They say you and Mr. Sterling are goals.” She tilted her head up, and that crescent moon necklace dangled right before my eyes. It was blinding. My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. But I knew I couldn’t lose my cool now. I forced a elegant, poised smile. “Nice to meet you, Luna. You must be highly capable to land an internship at Sterling Corp at such a young age.” I gently tightened my grip on Christian’s arm, claiming my territory with a soft but firm tone. “Christian has notoriously high standards when it comes to work.” I emphasized “Christian” and “my husband” with subtle precision. Luna’s smile faltered for a microsecond before returning to its sweet mask. “You’re absolutely right, Mrs. Sterling. I’ll make sure to work even harder.” She was good. The defiance in her eyes was practically dripping, yet she played the naive girl flawlessly. Christian seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He patted my hand and told Luna, “Alright, get back to work.” Then he whispered to me, “Come on, let’s go home.” Back in the quiet interior of our Bentley, the silence was suffocating. It wasn’t until we merged onto the highway that I finally broke the quiet. “That necklace wasn’t a vendor gift, was it?” I stared out the window at the passing city skyline, my voice as flat as if I were discussing the weather. Christian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He let out a long, weary sigh. “Vivian, do we really have to do this?” “Do what?” I turned my head to look at him. “Is it wrong of me to ask? Or did you plan on lying to me forever?” “I wasn’t trying to lie to you!” His voice spiked, laced with the irritation of being caught. “Fine. I bought her the necklace. She’s just an intern, okay? She moved here all by herself from a small town, working crazy hours, struggling to make rent. I felt bad for her and wanted to show some support. That’s it!” “Support?” I let out a cold laugh. “Since when does the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company personally curate jewelry for struggling interns? Should I write you a card praising your charity work?” “Vivian!” Christian slammed his hand on the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve slightly. He took a deep breath, softening his tone. “I just… when I look at her, I see a bit of Summer when she was younger. You know I’ve moved on. But seeing someone who looks like her brings back old memories. I lied because I didn’t want you to overthink it. It was just a stupid, nostalgic whim. Can we please just drop it?” Summer. He brought her up again. Then he started listing all the sweet things we had done over the past year, trying to prove how much he cared about me. “Does our entire marriage mean less to you than your paranoia over an intern?” he pleaded, grabbing my hand. His pain looked so genuine. “Vivian, stop overthinking. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Let’s just put this behind us.” I slowly pulled my hand back and turned to look out the window. I didn’t say another word. When we got home, Christian went out of his way to please me. He poured me water, massaged my shoulders, and constantly checked my expression. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t respond either. I was a lifeless doll. When he went to take a shower, I walked back into his study like a ghost. This time, my target wasn’t the desk drawer. My eyes landed on the massive, floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelf. Christian had a habit: he always hid his most precious secrets in plain sight. Taking a deep breath, I began pulling down the heavy, leather-bound volumes one by one. Finally, in the deepest corner of the bottom shelf, my fingers brushed against cold metal. It was a small, built-in digital safe. My heart leaped into my throat. What was the passcode? My birthday? Our anniversary? Or… Summer’s birthday? WWith trembling fingers, I typed in Summer’s birthdate based on what I remembered from his old archives. With a soft click, the safe door popped open.

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On the day I was diagnosed with a glioblastoma, I also received a phone call from the billionaire Vance family, claiming I was their long-lost biological daughter. The doctor told me that the surgery and follow-up treatments would cost at least a hundred thousand dollars. So, without a second thought, I threw my beat-up backpack over my shoulder and headed straight to the Vance estate. Even though I knew they didn’t want me there. The mansion was breathtakingly luxurious, but my eyes were only searching for the person who could write me a check. In the living room, my biological parents were gently cradling their adopted daughter, Lily, whispering sweet comforts to her. Lily was crying her eyes out, looking as if my return meant I was going to skin her alive. I stood at the doorway, the mud from the gritty suburbs still sticking to the soles of my sneakers. My biological father, Arthur Vance, frowned at me. “Now that you’re back, you will follow the rules in this house.” “This is Lily. She is your older sister. Though we aren’t blood-related, she is our real daughter in every way that matters.” “Don’t even dream of replacing her. To the public, we will introduce you as our adopted daughter.” My biological mother, Eleanor, added coldly, “Your room is next to the maid’s quarters. Don’t come to the main building unless you have to. Don’t scare Lily.” If I had grown up in a privileged environment like this, I probably would have burst into tears, demanding to know why they were treating me this way. But years of being bullied in the orphanage and abused by foster parents had beaten any fragile sensitivity out of me. I used to starve myself just to beg for a crumb of affection. But now? My mind was filled with nothing but that $100,000 medical bill. I looked up, letting my gaze drift past their disgusted faces, and let it rest on the Patek Philippe watch on Arthur’s wrist. Then, I nodded. “Deal.”

Lily’s crying stopped instantly. Arthur hadn’t expected me to be so submissive. He froze for a second. “I only have one condition.” I held out my hand, palm up. It was rough, covered in thick calluses from years of hard labor. “Give me a hundred thousand dollars.” The living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The disgust in Eleanor’s eyes practically boiled over. “As expected of a girl raised in the slums. Money is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. Absolutely no manners!” Lily chimed in with a timid, fragile voice. “Hazel, Mom and Dad just brought you home. How can you… talk about money? It hurts our family’s feelings.” I looked at them expressionlessly. If we don’t talk about money, what should we talk about? Should we talk about how you lost me for eighteen years? Or should we talk about how you were throwing a lavish birthday party for Lily while my foster father was cracking a beer bottle over my head? I didn’t even bother to explain that this money was to save my life. In their eyes, a piece of trash like me getting a terminal illness would probably just be seen as bad luck rubbing off on them. “Give me the money, and I will play along with whatever happy family drama you want.” “Don’t give it to me, and I walk out that door right now to find the media. We can talk about the dirty secrets of the Vance family’s real and fake daughters.” I was completely calm. My voice didn’t even tremble. Arthur’s face turned violently pale. This was his biological daughter—drenched in the smell of cheap money, without a single shred of family affection. He whipped out his checkbook, scribbled a series of numbers, and threw the check right at my face. “Take the money and shut up!” “This hundred thousand dollars buys out your greed. From now on, your monthly allowance is five hundred dollars. Not a single penny more!” The check fluttered lightly onto the floor. I bent down and picked it up. I blew the dust off it. Perfect. The first round of chemotherapy was covered. I slipped the check into my pocket and gave them a textbook-perfect bow. “Thank you, Mr. Vance. Thank you, Mrs. Vance.” “As long as the money keeps coming, I will be a ghost in this house.” “I’ll even cry the loudest at your funerals.” With that, I grabbed my bag and walked straight toward the maid’s room. Behind me, Eleanor shrieked in rage, while Lily offered her fake, soothing comfort. I shut the door, and the world finally went quiet. Feeling a sharp, throbbing pain in the back of my head, I pulled a bottle of painkillers from my bag and chewed two tablets dry. The bitter taste exploded in my mouth. It’s okay, Hazel. You have the money now. You get to live. As long as you can survive, who cares if you have to play the dog?

The school the Vance family sent me to was St. Jude’s Academy, an elite private high school. It was also Lily’s home turf. On my first day, the family chauffeur refused to let me in the car. He looked at me and said, “Sorry, Hazel. There’s no room left in the SUV. You’ll have to find your own way.” It was a seven-seater Lincoln Navigator. Only Lily was sitting in the back. I didn’t argue. I turned around, found a public rental bike, and unlocked it. A forty-minute bike ride was great cardio anyway. When I finally walked into the classroom, homeroom had just started. As a transfer student, I was assigned to the very last row, right next to the trash can. Lily was sitting in the center of the room, surrounded by a crowd like a queen bee, handing out high-end macarons from a Michelin-starred bakery. “My mom baked these herself. Please try some, everyone.” The classroom was filled with high-pitched praise. But the moment I walked in, all the voices dropped to whispers. “Is that the biological daughter from the slums?” “I heard she threw a massive tantrum at home just to extort a hundred thousand dollars from her parents. She’s desperate for cash.” “Stay away from her. I heard she used to hang out with gang members.” Lily walked over to my desk holding a small box of macarons, a fake, sweet smile plastered on her face. “Hazel, have some. I know you’ve probably never tasted anything this fancy before.” I was busy solving an AP Calculus practice exam. I didn’t even look up. “No, thanks. The sugar content is too high. It slows down my brain cells.” Lily’s hand froze mid-air. The classroom instantly erupted. “Hazel! What is your problem? Lily is just trying to be nice!” “Seriously, stop acting like you’re above us. Do you even understand a single question on that test paper?” I was getting annoyed. Time was literally life for me. Every single minute had to be spent studying, winning scholarships, and getting into an Ivy League school. After all, the top scholarship was worth twenty thousand dollars. I raised my head and locked eyes with the boy who was yelling the loudest. “That derivative problem you’ve been staring at… you’ve been trying to solve it for three periods now, haven’t you?” The boy stammered, “How… how did you know?” “Your auxiliary line is wrong. You should draw the tangent line through point A.” I grabbed his pen and quickly wrote down three lines of calculations on his scratch paper. “The rest is just plugging in the formula. A middle schooler could do it.” I tossed the pen back to him and buried my face back into my books. “Don’t annoy me. I’m busy.” The entire classroom fell dead silent. The boy stared at the steps I wrote, his eyes practically popping out of his skull. Lily bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes as if she had just suffered the ultimate betrayal. “Hazel… are you still mad at me for taking your place?” “If it’s because of that, I am so sorry…” Again with this act. Impatiently, I pulled a printed paper with my PayPal QR code from my backpack and slapped it onto my desk. “Want to watch me play the loving sister? Sure.” “Scan and pay. One hundred dollars per scene.” “Two hundred for a chat, five hundred to act with you, and one thousand if you want me to take the blame for something.” “Small business, cash only. No credit.” Lily froze completely. The rich kids watching the drama were entirely dumbfounded. Ignoring their ridiculous faces, I went back to solving my geometry problems. In this house, nobody got my attention unless they were paying for it. At lunch, I ordered the cheapest salad in the cafeteria. I transferred the saved money straight into my medical savings account. As I was eating, my tray was suddenly flipped over. The salad dressing and soup splashed all over my uniform. Chloe Sterling, Lily’s main sidekick, stood over me with her arms crossed, looking down her nose at me. “Hazel, you made Lily cry. Go apologize to her right now.” I looked at the wasted food on the floor, my heart bleeding. That lunch cost fifteen dollars. That was enough to buy a box of antibiotics. I slowly stood up and stared into Chloe’s eyes. “Pay me back.” Chloe laughed as if she had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “What did you say?” “The lunch was fifteen dollars. Dry cleaning for my uniform is fifty. Emotional damage is a hundred.” “One hundred and sixty-five dollars total. Snapchat or PayPal?” Chloe’s laugh turned into a scowl. She pulled two hundred-dollar bills from her designer purse and slammed them onto the floor. “You poor freak! Pick it up! Pick it up and I’ll let you go!” Humiliating me? If I were in their shoes, maybe I would feel embarrassed. But now? I knelt down, picked up the two bills, and carefully wiped the dressing off them. Thirty-five dollars extra. I made a profit. I pocketed the money, looked at Chloe, and asked with absolute sincerity, “Do you want to throw another tray? I’ll give you a twenty percent discount this time.” Chloe looked at me as if I were a literal monster. “Psychopath… you are a complete psychopath!” She turned and ran away in panic. I went back to the counter, bought two cheap bread rolls, washed them down with the free water, and ate happily. As long as I could stay alive. Dignity meant absolutely nothing.

On the first district mock exam, I took first place. Out of a total score of 1600 on the SAT mock prep, I got 1590. The only ten points I lost were on the essay, because my handwriting was too messy. I had been rushing to finish so I could write essay papers for lazy rich college kids online. I needed quick cash. The moment the report card was posted on the bulletin board, the whole school went wild. Lily had placed tenth. The crowd that usually showered her with compliments fell quiet, and her face turned paper-white. But I didn’t expect that when I got home, instead of congratulations, a trial was waiting for me. Arthur slammed my report card onto the coffee table. “You cheated! This is utterly embarrassing!” “The Vance family might be wealthy, but we do not tolerate academic fraud!” “You barely passed your classes in that trashy public school, and suddenly you’re first in the district? Do you think I’m an idiot?” Eleanor chimed in from the side. “Lily has had Ivy League tutors since she was a child to get tenth place. A wild girl like you? How could you possibly beat her?” How? Because I used to collect cardboard boxes in the slums just to exchange them for old textbooks. Because I hand-copied entire library workbooks to save money on prep materials. Because I wanted to live. I stood in the center of the living room. My head was throbbing violently. The tumor was probably pressing against my nerves again. I felt a warm trickle of blood starting to leave my nose. I sniffed hard, forcing it back. “I didn’t cheat.” My voice was hoarse, and I had to fight to keep it from trembling. “If you don’t have proof, this is slander.” Lily walked over with red eyes and grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Dad, don’t blame Hazel. Maybe… maybe she just wanted to prove herself to us too badly.” “Hazel, just go to the principal and admit it. We won’t be mad at you.” The scent of her fake pity was sickening. I let out a cold laugh. “You want proof?” “The National Math Olympiad is next week. St. Jude’s has two spots.” “They were supposed to go to Lily and Ethan Knight.” “I want one of those spots.” Arthur looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “You want to go to the Olympiad? Is that a place for someone like you?” “What if I win the gold medal?” I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze burning. Arthur sneered. “If you win the gold medal, I will give you one million dollars!” “But if you lose, you pack your bags and get the hell out of the Vance family. Never show your face here again!” “Deal.” I agreed instantly. As I turned to go to my room, I heard Eleanor whispering behind me, “She is insane. Lily, sweetie, ignore her. Focus on your preparation. Don’t let her ruin your focus.” The second I shut my bedroom door, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up blood. Staring at the crimson liquid in the sink, I turned on the faucet to wash it away. One million dollars. That was enough for the best minimally invasive surgery and the most advanced targeted drugs. I was putting my life on this bet. The next day at school, I went straight to the academic dean to demand my spot. The dean looked troubled. “Hazel, even though you got the highest score on the mock exam, the Olympiad is a completely different level of difficulty…” “Just let her take a test.” A cool, calm voice came from the doorway. It was Ethan Knight. The legend of St. Jude’s Academy, the guy who had held the number-one spot for years, and the future son-in-law the Vance family wanted for Lily. He leaned against the doorframe, twirling a pen in his fingers, watching me with an unreadable expression. “This is last year’s national final paper. If you can finish it in an hour and get a passing grade, I’ll give you my spot.” The dean gasped. “Ethan, don’t play around!” I looked at Ethan. He was incredibly handsome, but his eyes were too sharp, as if he could see right through my decaying body. “I don’t need you to give me anything.” I walked over and snatched the test paper from his hand. “We will take it together.” “Whoever gets the higher score gets the spot.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Fine.” For the next hour, the dean’s office became the center of attention for the entire school. Lily and her friends crowded outside the window, waiting to watch me humiliate myself. At the forty-minute mark, I put down my pen. “Done.” Two minutes later, Ethan also put his pen down. The dean’s hands shook as he graded the papers. “Ethan… ninety-eight percent.” Outside, Lily let out a sigh of relief, a smile starting to form on her face. “Hazel… one hundred percent.” “A perfect score?!” The dean’s voice cracked. I stood up, but because I got up too fast, my vision went black for a second. I gripped the edge of the desk to steady myself and looked at Ethan. “Thanks.” Ethan stared at me for a moment, then reached into his pocket and handed me a chocolate bar. “Low blood sugar?” I didn’t take it. “Can’t afford to pay you back. I don’t take charity.” Ethan’s hand paused, then he slipped the chocolate directly into my blazer pocket. “It’s payment for the shortcut you used on the final question.” I felt the warmth of the chocolate through my pocket. Since it was a trade, I’d keep it. After all, I really needed the energy right now.

On the day of the Olympiad, Lily came along too. Even though she couldn’t beat me, the Vance family had used their connections to get her an alternate spot. In the van, she kept staring at my backpack. My admission ticket and ID card were in there. When we arrived at the test center, Lily suddenly clutched her stomach and crouched down. “Oh my god, it hurts… my stomach hurts so bad…” The Vance family driver panicked and immediately got out of the car to help her. In the chaos, I felt someone bump into me. By the time I realized what had happened, my backpack zipper was halfway open. My admission ticket was gone. Lily had a tiny, barely visible smirk on her face as the driver helped her walk toward the medical tent. “Hazel, go inside. Don’t worry about me.” A classic distraction and theft. If this had been the old me, I would have panicked. But I only gave her a cold look, turned around, and walked straight to the registration office. “Excuse me, I lost my physical ticket and my ID card.” The proctor frowned. “Then you can’t enter the hall.” “But I remember my candidate number.” “And I have my digital ID saved on my phone.” In this digital age, Lily’s petty tricks were laughably outdated. Besides, Ethan had already warned me. Last night, he had sent me a message on Snapchat: Lily is up to something. Keep your eyes open. I successfully entered the exam room. The moment the exam papers were handed out, the entire world went silent. Those numbers and symbols weren’t boring formulas to me. They were the secret codes to my survival. Every question I solved felt like another beat of my heart. The final question was incredibly difficult. It involved advanced college-level topology. I bit down on the end of my pen, a sharp, excruciating pain blooming in my head. It felt like a drill was boring into my brain. Cold sweat poured down my forehead, dripping onto the paper. I couldn’t collapse. Not here. Not now. I pinched my thigh hard, using the physical pain to force my mind to stay conscious. I got it. Just as I wrote down the final formula, the buzzer rang, signaling the end of the exam. Walking out of the building, I saw Arthur and Eleanor anxiously crowding around Lily. Lily had tears in her eyes. “Mom, Dad… I couldn’t solve the last two questions… I don’t think I’ll win any awards.” Eleanor hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s the effort that counts. You weren’t feeling well anyway.” Seeing me walk out, Arthur’s face instantly darkened. “You actually have the nerve to walk out of there? You lost your admission ticket on purpose, didn’t you? You were just scared of failing and getting caught!” Lily acted surprised. “Hazel, you got in? How did you get in without a ticket?” I had no energy left to waste on them. “Get that one million dollars ready.” The moment those words left my mouth, I felt a rush of warm liquid pouring out of my nose. It wouldn’t stop. The bright red blood dripped onto my white school uniform. My vision began to blur, and the world started to spin. “Stop acting! Do you think a little nosebleed is going to make us feel sorry for you?” Arthur took a step back in disgust, terrified of getting blood on his expensive suit. My knees buckled, and I collapsed straight onto the hard concrete. As I fell, the contents of my backpack spilled everywhere. Along with my pencil case, a thick black ledger rolled out. Lily’s sharp eyes caught it, and she quickly snatched it up. “What is this? This is why you keep demanding money from us, isn’t it?” She opened the first page and read out loud in a dramatic voice: “September 1st: Received $100,000. Expenses: Chemotherapy deposit $20,000, targeted cancer drugs $80,000…” Lily’s voice suddenly died in her throat. Arthur snatched the ledger from her hands. “What is this trash? You made up a fake ledger just to scam us for more money?” He furiously flipped the pages, and a dozen medical receipts and diagnosis sheets fluttered out of the book. My latest medical report, printed just a week ago, landed right next to his leather shoe. The red hospital stamp on the paper read: [Patient: Hazel Vance. Diagnosis: Glioblastoma, Stage IV. Immediate surgical intervention recommended. Life expectancy without surgery: Less than three months.] The air around us seemed to freeze solid. I lay on the cold concrete floor, my consciousness slipping away. The last thing I saw was Ethan frantically pushing through the crowd, running toward me like a madman. And Arthur’s face, which had turned completely, horrifyingly pale.

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I married my sister’s broke boyfriend. Everyone in our social circle laughed at me. They said I was an idiot for throwing away my chance at a high-society marriage just to pick up Vivian’s trash. For three years, I stayed by his side. We struggled through the dirt, and I watched him climb from a nobody to the city’s hottest new tech mogul. But then, the rumors started. Flirty influencers began buzzing around him, and I found a bright red lipstick stain inside his suit pocket. Without a word, I handed him the divorce papers. But Liam ripped them into shreds. With bloodshot eyes, he pinned me against the wall, his voice shaking: “Tell me the truth, Clara—” “Did you only marry me because my face looks exactly like your dead first love?” My phone screen lit up just as I was balancing this month’s household accounts. Liam’s name popped up with a single text: “Late business dinner tonight. Don’t wait up.” My finger hovered over the clear button on my calculator, unable to press down. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was pitch black. A heavy rain was about to fall, making the air stifling. This penthouse was located in the most expensive tech district in the city. The soundproofing was too good. It was so quiet that I could hear my own shallow, anxious breathing. How many times had he stayed out late this month? Five? Six? It didn’t use to be like this. Three years ago, I took all the savings I had—money I’d spent years scraping together to open a small flower shop—and pushed the check across the table to Liam. He stared at me, his dark eyes deep and unreadable, like an endless cold abyss. “Clara,” he called my name, his voice flat and emotionless. “Think carefully. If you stay with me, you’ll be eating dirt for a long time.” I looked down, avoiding his eyes, my fingers curling tightly under the cold wooden table. “I couldn’t just watch your startup go under,” I said, my voice dry. At that time, he had just been kicked out of our house by my status-obsessed father, Arthur. Along with Liam’s pride, Arthur had crushed his years of hard work, stealing his tech project right before it could launch. My half-sister, Vivian, was supposed to be the tragic heroine of their love story. But after crying a few dramatic tears about “having no choice,” she quickly moved on. My father set her up with a billionaire heir, and she didn’t look back. Then came the “accident.” A setup where Liam and I were caught in the same bed by the paparazzi. Vivian cried like a victim. My father went ballistic, pointing his finger at my face, calling me a shameless slut who seduced her sister’s man. I stood tall, taking the insults in silence. The result? I, Clara Miller—the neglected, forgotten older daughter—was forced to marry the broke boyfriend who had nothing left but his pride and a ruined project. The wedding was pathetic. No one from my family showed up. On Liam’s side, there were only a few struggling friends. When he slipped the simple silver band onto my finger, his hands were freezing. His eyes were even colder. There was no hug. No kiss. The officiant awkwardly tried to laugh it off, saying, “The groom must be nervous!” But I knew he wasn’t nervous. It was a mix of humiliation, resentment, and a cold acceptance of his fate. He needed money. He needed seed funding. And I had handed it to him, along with the title of his wife. Even if that title was born from a trap and built on a lie. Our marriage ran like a clock. He basically lived at the office, working day and night. I quit my easy but dead-end receptionist job and got a high-paying, exhausting corporate gig to pay for our rent and groceries. We shared the same bed, but we slept on opposite sides, leaving a massive, cold gap between us. For the first six months, he barely touched me. On the rare occasions he did, it felt like he was just fulfilling a duty. He was distant and overly polite. In the dark, I would keep my eyes open, listening to his steady breathing, feeling entirely empty inside. When did things start to change? Probably after his company secured its first major round of venture capital. He still came home late, but he smelled less of cheap alcohol. The exhaustion on his face was replaced by a sharp, commanding edge. The way he looked at me changed, too. It was no longer pure ice. Sometimes, he would study me, trying to figure me out. Then, he started giving me money. A lot of it. He gave me black cards with no limit. Personal shoppers from luxury brands would text me, saying Mr. Vance had ordered the latest collection for me. We moved into a massive house—this very penthouse. He got me a private chauffeur, so I didn’t have to squeeze onto the subway anymore. Materially, he gave me a life of luxury that my father had never allowed me to have. But we spoke even less. At dinner, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates. “Busy day?” I would ask. “Fine.” “Is the new project going well?” “Yes.” And then, silence. He didn’t need my meager salary anymore, so I quit my job. I became the perfect “Mrs. Vance.” I spent my days in a hollow, professionally cleaned penthouse. I balanced bills we had more than enough money to pay, and I attended charity galas with other high-society wives. At those parties, I was always the quiet one who didn’t fit in. They talked about diamonds, yacht trips, and vacations in Europe. Eventually, the gossip would crawl back to Liam. “You’re so lucky, Clara. Liam is so young and successful, and he spoils you so much.” “Right? I heard he just bought that prime real estate downtown. Incredible.” “But… Clara, can I give you some advice?” someone would whisper, leaning in with fake sympathy. “My husband saw Liam at a private lounge last week. There was a very pretty secretary next to him. She was practically throwing herself at him…” My fingers would tighten around my delicate teacup, but I forced a calm smile. “Is that so? He’s busy. He has a lot of dinners. It’s normal for his assistant to be there.” Was it normal? I didn’t know. All I knew was that the scent of cologne on Liam’s shirts would occasionally change to brands I didn’t recognize. And once, I found a tissue in his suit pocket. It had a bright red lipstick smudge on it. He started coming home in the middle of the night more and more. Sometimes, beneath the smell of whiskey, there was a sweet, feminine perfume that didn’t belong to me. I had been “Mrs. Vance” for three years. I watched him rise from a broke kid to the man he was today. He stood at the top of the world now, surrounded by applause, money, and endless temptation. And me? I was just a pawn on his chessboard from the very beginning. A temporary, useless piece. Now that he had won the game, was it time for me to leave? A sharp, stabbing pain bloomed in my chest. My phone buzzed again. It was a celebrity gossip alert. The headline was loud: “Tech Billionaire Liam Vance Spotted with Mystery Woman at Late-Night Lounge. New Romance?” I didn’t click it. I didn’t even look at the blurry photo of the woman. It didn’t matter anymore. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. For three years, I had played my part perfectly. I had been the loyal wife. I had guarded a cold home and a hopeless marriage. I thought time would change things. I thought, eventually, he would stop seeing me as “Vivian’s sister” and finally see me—Clara. But I was wrong. Some things are broken from the start. A substitute is just a substitute. I turned off my phone, stood up, and walked to the window. The glass reflected my pale, hollow face. Outside, the rain finally poured, heavy drops slamming against the glass, tearing down like tears. Let’s end this. This three-year, one-sided show was finally over.

I took a deep breath, walked to my desk, and opened my laptop. On a blank document, I typed five words: Divorce Agreement. It was simple. I wanted nothing. None of the things he gave me over the last three years—not the penthouse, not the cars, not the money. I was leaving with nothing. I would only take my own pre-marriage savings and a few of my clothes. I printed it out. The two sheets of paper felt heavy, as if they had drained all the energy from my body. I placed the agreement on the coffee table in the living room, weighing it down with his crystal ashtray. Then, I packed my bags. One small suitcase was enough to fit my entire life. By the time I was done, it was past midnight. The rain showed no signs of stopping. Suddenly, the front door clicked. Liam was back. He took off his wet coat and hung it up. He brought the chill of the rainy night and a faint scent of alcohol with him, but his eyes were sharp and sober. He walked into the living room, noticing the lights were on. Then, he saw me. And he saw the document sitting on the table. He froze. His gaze locked onto the bold words: Divorce Agreement. The air in the room turned to ice. A few seconds of dead silence passed. He looked up at me, his brow furrowing into a tight line. “What is this?” His voice was lower than usual. I stood by the couch, squeezing the hem of my sweater, trying to keep my voice steady and empty of emotion. “Divorce papers. I’ve signed them. There’s no property to split. I’m waiving alimony. Once you sign, we can file the paperwork.” He looked at the papers again, then back at me, as if he were seeing me for the very first time. The corner of his mouth curved into a cold, mocking smirk. “What? Not enough money? Or are you just tired of playing the good wife after three years?” That smirk felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I looked up, meeting his eyes. In three years, I had rarely looked at him so directly, without hiding. He was handsome. He had deep brown eyes and long lashes. When he didn’t speak, he looked incredibly intense. “Liam,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, though I tried to control it. “Our marriage was just a deal from the start, wasn’t it? You needed funding, and I needed an excuse to escape my father.” “Now, you’re successful. You don’t need my money anymore. And I…” I choked up, my throat tightening. “I’m tired.” He took two steps closer, his tall frame instantly towering over me. His scent—a mix of cold rain, tobacco, and expensive whiskey—filled my senses. “Tired?” He repeated the word, his eyes cutting through me like blades, trying to rip open my calm facade. “Clara, have I ever mistreated you in these three years? The food, the clothes, the lifestyle—didn’t I give you the absolute best? Your greedy father practically begs for my business now. No one in your family dares to look down on you anymore!” His questions pounded against my ears. Yes, he had given me luxury. He had given me status. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I looked at his face, so close to mine. Over the last three years in the corporate world, his boyish charm had faded, replaced by sharp, cold angles. The lamplight cast a shadow across his straight nose. Suddenly, three years of suppressed pain, anger, and grief boiled over. I couldn’t stop myself. I let out a bitter laugh that felt more like a sob. “Yes, you gave me a lot, Liam. But everything you gave me—including this angry, accusing look on your face…” I stared directly into his deep brown eyes. Word by word, I forced out the brutal truth. “Isn’t it all because my face looks a little bit like your perfect ex? The one you lost, the sister you couldn’t have?” The moment the words left my mouth, the room fell dead silent. Only the sound of the rain outside filled the space. Liam’s face froze. His expression was incredibly complex—shock, disbelief, confusion. And for a split second… a flicker of panic, like a man whose deepest, darkest secret had just been exposed. It happened so fast I thought I imagined it. He stared at me, his throat moving as he swallowed hard, trying to speak but failing. His eyes, usually cold and unreadable, were swirling with intense emotions. Time dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. I expected him to explode, or to laugh coldly and admit it. But instead, he closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, they were red. He spoke, his voice incredibly hoarse, shaking with a desperate pain I had never heard before. “Clara… tell me…” “When you married me…” He paused, as if it took every ounce of his strength to ask the question that had haunted him for three years. “Was it because my face looks just like your dead first love?!” It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. My entire body went rigid, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. Then, my heart hammered violently against my ribs, making my head spin. What… what did he just say? My dead first love? Who? Him? This was absurd! Completely insane! I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. I couldn’t make a sound. I could only watch Liam. I saw the raw, destructive pain and the desperate need for answers in his bloodshot eyes. My chest throbbed. Memories I had locked away—memories of another person—flooded back, smelling of rain and blood. Ethan Carter. That name, along with his bright, lazy smile, hadn’t been mentioned in front of me for years. He died five years ago on a rainy night just like this, in a horrific car crash. But… Ethan and Liam? For the first time, I actually looked at Liam’s face. Those deep brown eyes, the straight nose, even the slight curve of his lips when he frowned… No, it couldn’t be! Ethan was warm, passionate, and bright, like a flame that would never go out. Liam was cold, dark, and silent, like a deep, frozen lake. They were completely different people! “…What nonsense are you talking about?” I finally found my voice. It was cracked and trembling with disbelief. “First love? Did you spy on me?” Liam stared at me, his gaze so sharp it felt like he was peeling back my skin to see my ugliest secrets. He let out a self-deprecating, painful laugh. “Spy on you? Clara, did I even need to?” He stepped closer, his shadow completely swallowing me. The pressure made it hard to breathe. “Ethan Carter.” He said the name clearly. It felt like a bullet hitting the softest part of my heart. “The star student of the Art Institute. He was a year ahead of you. Your little college romance was quite famous, wasn’t it?” His voice was low, each word forced through his teeth. “He loved wearing white shirts. He used to tuck a pencil behind his ear when he painted. And he had a tiny brown mole right under his right eye.” My breath caught. My body went cold. How did he know that? Even Vivian didn’t know those details!

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“Your mother was the Alpha’s mistress. So, what does that make you?” My fated mate, River, asked me this out of nowhere, right before our mating ceremony. I stared at him, completely stunned. “River, what is that supposed to mean?” “It means you’re destined to be a mistress too, sweetheart.” He looked at me with a straight face, completely serious. “I want you to be my secret lover. The Elder Beta’s daughter is a much better fit to be my Luna.” “How dare you?” My eyes widened in disbelief. A fake, apologetic smile crept onto his face. “Come on, you’re just a human anyway. Since your mother could subject herself to being a mistress, why can’t you?” It took me forever to find my voice. “My mother was her, and I am me. I will never be anyone’s mistress.” “Oh, really?” He let out a mocking laugh. “Be my secret lover, or we break up.” “Fine. Let’s break up.” I had sworn to myself that I would never end up like my mother—living as a shadow in someone else’s life, only to meet a tragic end. But River didn’t know that. He reached out and gently patted my head, as if comforting a pet. “Silly girl, stop throwing a tantrum. You don’t even have a wolf. If you leave me, how are you going to survive in the pack?” “Your mother is dead, and Alpha Richard sees you as his ultimate shame. Only by staying with me will no one dare to look down on you.” I let out a soft, bitter laugh. Who said I needed him to survive? I had Aunt Lily. She was a human, but she had built a massive business empire abroad. Just last week, she reached out and asked if I wanted to leave this place and live with her. I had hesitated because I couldn’t bear to leave River. But now… I pulled out my phone and sent her a text. [Aunt Lily, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go with you.] She replied almost instantly: [That’s wonderful! I’ll send my private jet to pick you up in three days.] I should have been thrilled, but tears started pouring down my face anyway. My chest ached, a sharp, stabbing pain, as if something had ripped a piece of my heart away. I had planned to tell River about Aunt Lily as a surprise. Now, there was no point. Seeing my tears, River assumed I couldn’t bear to lose him. He reached over and wiped a tear from my cheek. “Look at you. You cry the second we talk about breaking up. If I actually left you, you’d probably die of a broken heart, wouldn’t you?” “Stop fighting with me. It won’t end well for you. Just be good and listen to me, and you’ll never have to worry about being helpless again.” I sniffled and stayed quiet. Thinking he had successfully convinced me, River started the engine. But halfway down the road, he suddenly pulled over. “Oh, by the way, starting today, you need to sit in the back seat. Jade said my passenger seat belongs only to her from now on. I promised her, and I can’t break my word.” He turned to look at me. “You know me. I’m a man of my word. I promised to take care of you for life, and even if I marry someone else, I’ll still look after you.” He smiled warmly at the thought. “You probably don’t know yet, but our mating ceremony is in three days. It took me so much effort to get her to agree, so I can’t afford to make her angry. She’s not as easygoing as you. She always says she’s a red rose—if I want her beauty, I have to accept her thorns.” River was completely lost in his sweet fantasy, but I felt as though those thorns had just pierced my flesh. A sharp pain shot through my hand. I looked down. While unbuckling my seatbelt, I had accidentally grazed a sharp earring left in the console. My palm was bleeding. River noticed it too, his eyes widening. “How could you be so careless?” For a split second, I thought he was worried about me. I was about to tell him I was fine, that this physical pain was nothing compared to my broken heart. But his next words dragged me straight into the abyss. “That’s Jade’s earring! She’s a total neat freak. If she finds out her favorite earring was stained by a human’s blood, she’ll be furious!” So, to him, my blood was nothing but dirt. My head spun from the pain. I stared at him blankly for so long that a hint of guilt finally flickered in his eyes. He looked down. “Forget it this once. I’ll clean it up for you. Just stay away from her things from now on.” He pulled out a disinfectant wipe and began meticulously cleaning the earring. My palm was still bleeding. I could feel the warm blood dripping onto my jeans, but I sat there, numb as a statue. I didn’t speak. I didn’t move. I just watched him. After wiping it clean, he wrapped it carefully in a tissue and placed it in the glove compartment. Only then did he turn back to me. “What are you still sitting there for? Didn’t you hear me? Get in the back seat.” My consciousness finally drifted back. “No need. I’ll catch a cab.” “Suit yourself,” River said casually. “There’s a pack banquet tonight, and I need to take Jade to pick out her gown anyway. Go on home.” With that, he unlocked the doors, let me out, and slammed his foot on the gas. He sped away, leaving me behind. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain outside. He didn’t even bother to leave me an umbrella.

By the time I dragged myself to the bus stop, I was soaked to the bone. People passing by stared at me like I was crazy. And maybe I was. Even now, my mind was playing a loop of every sweet thing River had ever done for me. I had known my mother was an Alpha’s mistress since I was a child. She had an affair with the Alpha of the Moonclaw Pack, hoping to use her pregnancy to climb the ranks. But the Luna found out. Eventually, the Luna had her hunted down and killed. I grew up in the Moonclaw Pack. Because of my half-human blood and my mother’s reputation, the Alpha and Luna never looked at me with anything but disgust. I was a living reminder of betrayal and infidelity. In the pack, my status was lower than even the lowest Omega. The adult wolves would whisper and point behind my back, saying the daughter of a mistress deserved to die a horrible death. But the younger wolves were far more brutal. They would wait for me at the training grounds to throw rocks at me, calling me a bastard. Sometimes, when no one was around, they would hunt me like prey. “The daughter of a mistress will definitely grow up to be a whore,” they would sneer. “Look at her trying to seduce everyone. She’s even dirtier than her mother.” I knew my mother was guilty, and I knew I carried her shame. So I never fought back. I let them use me as a punching bag. This went on for years, until the Alpha and Luna were forced to send me to the Pack Academy. It was a law decreed by the Alpha King. Every pack had to educate its youth. Every child of an Alpha had to attend the academy after turning eighteen. Even though Alpha Richard refused to acknowledge me, he didn’t dare lie to the Alpha King. And that was where I met River—the son of the Sunward Pack’s Alpha, and my fated mate. “Who says the daughter of a mistress has to become one?” At school, River stood in front of me, his gaze sweeping coldly over the crowd of bullies. When his eyes landed on the lead Beta, the boy took a step back in fear. “She is my fated mate,” River’s voice was quiet, but it echoed clearly across the yard. “Anyone who touches her touches the future Luna of the Sunward Pack.” Silence fell over the crowd. The Beta’s son turned pale, his lips trembling, but he didn’t dare utter a single word. From that day on, the bullying stopped. I didn’t really understand what a fated mate was. To be honest, as a half-human, I never thought it applied to me. Even if it did, I expected him to reject me instantly. But River didn’t. He brought me under his wing. I genuinely believed it was love. My life slowly got back on track. River pursued me relentlessly. He held the umbrella for me in the rain and shaded me from the sun. Every day after training, he would quietly walk me back to my room. Once, at the pack cafeteria, I saw a few wolves maliciously pouring leftover soup onto my seat. River didn’t argue. He walked over, picked up the tray of dirty soup, and slammed it down in front of the bully. His face was calm, but the bully’s hands were already shaking. “Eat it,” River said, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather. The bully ate it. After that, nobody ever messed with my seat again. I thought that was tenderness. I thought it was devotion, a man protecting his woman. I didn’t realize that in the werewolf world, an Alpha heir’s urge to protect his fated mate is just a biological instinct, as uncontrollable as the moon pulling the tides. Before meeting him, I never planned to fall in love. My mother’s tragic fate had left deep scars on my heart. But he had been like a beam of light, slowly chasing away all my shadows until they vanished. Standing in the freezing, pouring rain, I couldn’t understand. How could someone who was once so good to me turn into this monster? Suddenly, my vision went black, and I collapsed onto the wet pavement.

When I woke up, it was already dark. I was lying in a bed at the pack clinic, an IV needle hooked into the back of my hand. The pack healer—the only wolf who had ever shown me any kindness—sighed. “Your emotions are too volatile. You need to calm down and rest.” “Okay,” I whispered. Right then, my phone rang. It was River. I hesitated before pressing answer. “Jade’s gown got ruined,” his cold voice came through the speaker. “Go grab the ‘Starry Night’ gown I ordered for you and bring it over. Jade’s going to wear it instead.” *So her name is Jade,* I thought bitterly. The “Starry Night” gown was a custom piece River had commissioned a designer to make for our mating ceremony. He used to refuse to let anyone even touch it, claiming it would tarnish our love. Now, he was casually telling me to give it to another woman. Honestly, it didn’t even matter anymore. But… “River, I’m at the clinic. I’m on an IV.” “You’re still the Alpha’s daughter. You’re not that fragile. Don’t start playing the victim now, or you’ll regret the consequences.” Fine. I would do this one last thing for him. Consider it payment for saving me back then. Without waiting for the IV drip to finish, I ripped the needle out of my hand. Ignoring the rain, I took a cab home, grabbed the gown, and rushed to the hotel. River had texted: [Jade is waiting for you at the entrance to thank you. Don’t cause a scene.] “Okay,” I muttered to myself. But the woman named Jade didn’t give me a thank you. She gave me a hard slap across the face. The force of the blow caught me completely off guard. I stumbled, and the gown slipped from my hands, falling onto the wet ground. Jade immediately burst into tears, looking incredibly wronged. “If you didn’t want to give it to me, you could have just said so! Why did you have to ruin the gown?” I was a straightforward person. I couldn’t comprehend her twisted mind games. But River seemed to understand perfectly. He rushed out of the hotel lobby. Jade clung to his arm, crying. “River, is this the ‘obedient’ girl you talked about? The one who promised not to make things hard for me?” River glanced at the dirty gown on the ground, instantly drawing his own conclusions. He slapped me across my other cheek. “I’ve clearly spoiled you too much. Apologize to Jade. Now!” I let out a harsh, dry laugh. “River, aren’t you being a bit too quick to judge? Do you even know how the slap mark on my left cheek got there?” Jade didn’t even try to hide it. She tugged at River’s sleeve. “I did it, River. You’re not mad at me, are you? I was just so upset that she threw the gown on the ground. I couldn’t help myself.” “You know how bad my temper can get.” River wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m not mad. She deserved it.” Jade flashed me a triumphant, malicious smirk. I laughed until tears came out. I was so incredibly stupid. But no matter how stupid I was, they only had three days left to torment me. Once those three days were up, I would vanish from their world forever. *River, I hope you don’t end up like my father—spending the rest of your life rotting in regret.*

“I’m sorry, Miss Jade. I shouldn’t have thrown your gown on the ground.” But Jade had no intention of letting me off that easily. “If you’re going to apologize, act like you mean it. Otherwise, I won’t accept it.” “And how do I show you I mean it?” “Tell everyone in there that you’re begging to be River’s mistress. Admit that you’re just as cheap and shameless as your mother… actually, no. You’re worse.” “I don’t want to be a mistress. River and I are over.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out the mating ring, and held it out. “Take it back. We are completely done.” River froze, his eyes locking onto the ring. He didn’t reach for it. The ring slipped through my fingers and clattered onto the pavement. “I say you want to be his mistress, so you do!” Jade suddenly grabbed a handful of my hair, dragging me violently toward the banquet hall. “Everyone, look!” Jade screamed. “We have a human here begging to be a mistress!” Someone in the crowd whispered, “Wait, isn’t that River’s fiancée?” “I’ve rejected her,” River announced coldly, his voice echoing in the hall. “A human doesn’t deserve to be a Luna. Jade is my fiancée now.” “Ah, that makes sense,” the crowd murmured in realization. One wolf stepped forward, sneering. “I knew it. The daughter of a mistress has cheap blood. It was only a matter of time. To think you actually defended her back then, River.” Jade piped up, “Exactly! She even slapped herself twice just to play the victim and gain sympathy.” “But our River is a man of honor. He would never fall for her cheap tricks.” As she spoke, Jade leaned heavily into River’s chest. I noticed River’s expression looked incredibly strained, but he still forced a nod. “Jade is right.” Another wave of pain washed over me. Just as I opened my mouth to defend myself, someone splashed a glass of wine directly in my face. “Lowly human. Always doing disgusting things.” The alcohol burned my eyes and rushed down my throat, making me cough violently. I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Taking that as a cue, another wolf threw a drink at me. “Go die, mistress!” Then came another glass, and another. Some poured it over my chest, others over my head. One wolf grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open, pouring wine down my throat. I was being publicly humiliated, treated like a piece of trash, while Jade snuggled in River’s arms, laughing hysterically. I couldn’t even scream. I was knocked to the floor. Once the drinks ran out, the kicks and stomps began. It was happening. The nightmare I feared most had arrived. My mother had gone through the exact same torment before she died. The reason I had agreed to break up with River so quickly was because I was terrified of this day. Yet, it still found me. Wrapped in lies and frame-ups. The darkness that River had once chased away came rushing back, swallowing me whole. But this time, there was no light left for me. My light was shining on someone else. Through the gaps in the crowd, I saw River laughing with Jade. He laughed so hard he seemed to have tears in his eyes. He must be so happy. *River, why were you the one who rescued me from hell, only to throw me right back into it?* With every ounce of strength left in my body, I screamed, “I, Rose Miller of the Moonclaw Pack, reject River Johnson of the Sunward Pack as my fated mate!” Then, like a madwoman, I broke through the crowd and ran toward the rooftop helipad. Perhaps realizing what my mother had done, River’s face drained of color. He chased after me, screaming in terror, “Rose! No! Don’t do it!” But I wasn’t going to jump. I wasn’t going to die like my mother. I ran toward the sky, climbing the rope ladder hanging from the hovering helicopter, step by step.

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Ten years after I became the Alpha of the Ironclaw Pack, my mate Ethan’s mistress showed up at my doorstep. She stood there looking incredibly innocent, wide-eyed and fragile. “I know this is wrong,” she whispered, looking down. “But Ethan told me I’m the one he truly loves. I know rejecting you as his mate will hurt you, so I’ll make sure he gives you a generous financial settlement.” She actually bent her knees and bowed to me in apology. I found the whole thing hilarious. I looked at her and asked, “Do you honestly not know that between Ethan and me, he’s the one being kept as a pet?” **1** “Did Ethan ever tell you that the villa you’re living in and the car you’re driving both belong to me?” Selene’s lips parted, but no sound came out. The reckless courage she had summoned for “true love” vanished instantly, replaced by sheer panic and disbelief. “I guess he didn’t,” I said, casually stirring my coffee. “If I break the mate bond with Ethan, everything he owns—everything he gave you—will be taken back by me. Do you still think your love is so grand?” When Ethan walked into the house, his little human girl was blushing with deep embarrassment. He immediately rushed forward, pulling her behind his back, shielding her. He glared at me with a defensiveness that felt entirely foreign. I raised an eyebrow. “What is the meaning of this, Ethan?” He gripped Selene’s hand tightly and said, “She’s a human. She doesn’t know anything about our world. She’s not like you, Victoria. Don’t make things hard for her.” *Not like me?* Because she was weak and needed protection? And I was the ruthless ruler of the pack, an Alpha who fought and bled? My hand holding the coffee cup trembled slightly. Forcing down the rising disgust in my chest, I tilted my head to look at him. “And what if I choose to make things hard for her?” His eyes flicked to the table behind me. I followed his gaze. Sitting on the table was a glass jar filled with colorful, hand-folded paper stars. As the Alpha heiress groomed by the Ironclaw Pack, I had never lacked suitors. My strength and capability meant I didn’t even need an alliance marriage to secure my rule over the pack. In my twenties, I was wild. I dated plenty of ordinary werewolves. Ethan was just one of them. But he was different from the others who only wanted my power or money. He was obsessed with securing my affection. Every time I finished dealing with brutal pack business, he would have a bowl of hot, nutritious soup waiting for me. One year, I was ambushed by a rival pack and severely wounded. He had braved the danger alone to drag me back to safety. Looking at the scars on his body, I had asked him, “Why are you so good to me?” After all, I hadn’t given him much back then. He had smiled gently. “Because I love you, Victoria. I want you to be well. It would be even better if you could love me back just a little.” Touched by his seemingly pure devotion, I chased away all the other wolves around me and marked him. Even though he wasn’t my fated mate. On the day we bonded, he gave me that jar of poorly folded paper stars. “I don’t have much to offer,” he had said, looking into my eyes. “But I folded these stars one by one. Each one represents my heart. Now that you’ve chosen me, you can’t break my heart. Every time you make me sad, I’ll take one star out. When the jar is empty, I’ll leave you and never come back.” Looking back, it was incredibly pathetic. A werewolf’s most useless, childish toy, and yet I had treasured it for years. But back then, I had never been cared for like that. My mother died when I was young, and I barely remembered her. My father, the former Alpha, raised me with only one rule: be strong, or die. He never asked if I was tired. He never asked if it hurt. He certainly never made me soup when I was bleeding. So when Ethan showed up with that hot soup, it was the first time I felt what it was like to be cherished. For that tiny bit of warmth, I had let myself be fooled for a decade. I thought he was sweet and innocent back then. To protect his feelings, I had promised him I would never make him sad. And so, even after all these years, that glass jar had remained completely full. Not a single star was missing. Until now. Ethan walked over, reached into the jar, and grabbed a massive handful of stars. The once-stuffed jar was suddenly a third empty. The shock in my eyes must have been obvious, because he smirked, thinking his little threat had worked. “You broke my heart today, Victoria,” Ethan said coldly. “Think about what you’ve done.” **2** After they left, I sat on the sofa, staring at the jar of stars. The cheap colored paper had faded over the years, looking dull and dusty. A few had unraveled at the edges, revealing the hollow emptiness inside. Just like Ethan’s “pure heart.” Actually, his heart had always been this hollow. I had just refused to see it. An Alpha, controlled by a few paper stars for ten years—the entire werewolf world would laugh their heads off if they found out. Before Ethan walked out, he had sneered, “Don’t take out your frustrations on a younger, prettier girl just because you’re getting old.” I chuckled softly. Ethan’s betrayal hadn’t happened overnight. We hadn’t been intimate in a long time. I was thirty-two, an Alpha in her absolute prime. But every time Ethan pulled away with a tired look, I assumed he was just exhausted from helping with pack administration. I never forced him. Turns out, he was just saving his energy for someone else. That human girl was indeed young. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. Thirty-two, yet my skin was flawless, radiating the power and timeless beauty of a high-ranking Alpha. I looked no older than twenty-five, but with a fierce authority that no basic wolf could match. Ethan really had garbage taste. I ran a hand through my dark, wavy hair, pulled out my phone, and called Jasmine, the Alpha of the Redwood Pack. “That young wolf you mentioned last time… bring him to me.” Jasmine’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “And here I thought you were going to play the loyal, devoted mate forever! Honey, everyone in our circle has a few toys on the side. You’re the only idiot who kept her hands clean for that basic mate of yours.” I used to believe loyalty was the bare minimum in a partnership. No matter what my friends said, I had never looked at another man since I marked Ethan. “What made you finally wake up?” Jasmine asked. “I just realized he’s incredibly boring. I’m done wasting my time.” “One isn’t going to be enough then! Tonight, our usual spot. I’ll line up a few gorgeous options for you to choose from.” “Deal.” I hung up, called my personal stylist to give me a head-to-toe makeover, and headed out. In the VIP suite of the Moonlight Lounge, eight young, incredibly fit male wolves were lined up. Jasmine sat next to me, winking at them. “Well, what are you waiting for? Pour the Alpha of Ironclaw a drink. If she likes you, your future is set.” Within seconds, several young wolves surrounded me, offering drinks and sweet compliments. To be honest, it felt amazing. After a few drinks, I excused myself to use the restroom. Passing by the adjacent private room, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. Ethan’s voice drifted out. His friend, Mac, was asking him, “Bro, your mate is an Alpha. You haven’t been back to the packhouse in days. Aren’t you worried she’ll kick you out of the pack?” Ethan scoffed. “I don’t want to go back and smell her old-woman scent. If you like it, go sniff her yourself.” “Hell no,” Mac laughed. “Who wants an old woman? Especially a terrifying Alpha female. If you ask me, women should just stick to being submissive Omega breeders…” Another wolf chimed in. “But Ethan, she’s the only reason you have your current status…” “Shut up,” Mac interrupted. “Ethan has that old woman wrapped around his finger. Have you ever seen her look at another guy all these years?” Ethan was playing with a faded paper star in his hand, a smug grin on his face. “Relax. She’s terrified of me leaving her. She used to have tons of guys around her, but ever since I pulled that countdown trick with this jar of stars, she chased them all away.” “Man, you’re a genius,” Mac cheered. “A jar of trash paper, and you have an Alpha eating out of your hand.” Ethan pulled Selene closer, wrapping his arm around her. “She’s in her thirties now, basically washed up. If she keeps throwing tantrums, I’ll just disappear for a few days. Let’s see how fast she crawls back begging.” **3** Returning to my room, I immediately opened my mind-link with Mia. *Cut off Ethan’s credit cards and revoke his access to all pack resources.* *Yes, Alpha,* Mia replied instantly. She was already on her phone making the calls. Enjoying my pack’s wealth while trash-talking me behind my back? Not on my watch. Jasmine leaned in. “So, see anyone you like?” I looked up, scanning the line of young wolves, and pointed directly at the one in the center. “You stay. The rest of you can leave.” The moment I spoke, Mia pulled several thick envelopes of cash from her bag and handed them to the departing wolves. “Our Alpha prefers her private life to stay private.” They took the money, thrilled, and left immediately. “That’s Ryder,” Jasmine whispered with a smirk before slipping out of the room. “He’s twenty-two, a top warrior from my pack’s younger generation. Enjoy.” I gestured for Ryder to come closer. When he sat beside me, I reached out and ran my hand over his abs. Rock hard and warm. “Feed me,” I murmured. Ryder leaned in, a piece of fruit between his lips, his gaze intense and full of youthful, intoxicating confidence. Ethan was right about one thing. With younger, better options available, why on earth would I waste my time on a fading, ungrateful piece of trash? That night, Ryder kept me up until dawn. It was an experience thirty-two-year-old Ethan could never offer me anymore. He was old news. It was time for an upgrade. Before leaving, I left a black card and my personal number on the nightstand. “I’m very satisfied,” I said, running a finger down his jaw. “Keep in touch.” Ryder’s eyes lit up with excitement and submission. See? As long as I have power and wealth, I can have whoever I want. After a night of being thoroughly satisfied, my complexion was glowing the next morning. When I walked into the pack boardroom, even Mia noticed. “You look radiant today, Alpha.” Perhaps because of my excellent mood, dealing with the tedious pack business felt incredibly easy. **4** My good mood lasted all the way until I walked back into the packhouse that evening. Ethan was sitting on the living room sofa, his face contorted with rage. I thought he had found out about Ryder. Instead, he jumped up and yelled, “Why did you freeze my cards? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when I couldn’t pay for dinner with my friends last night?!” “And how is that my problem?” I asked, walking past him. “Victoria! Are you seriously doing this because of Selene? She is just like a little sister to me!” “Ethan, do you even believe your own lies?” “Don’t try to flip this on me!” he snarled. “Just because you love playing around doesn’t mean everyone is like you. You’re accusing me just so you have an excuse to go run wild, aren’t you?” I was amazed by his sheer shamelessness. If he had just admitted he was keeping a human mistress, I would have just thought of him as a useless leech. But trying to gaslight me and blame me for his own cheating? It was disgusting. He grabbed another massive handful of stars from the jar and threw them on the table. “You’re not young anymore, Victoria. No one will ever love you the way I do. You better watch your step.” Staring at the nearly empty jar, I smirked. “Suit yourself.” Seeing my total indifference, Ethan’s face flushed with anger. “You’ve really broken my heart today, Victoria. I’m not staying here. When you realize your mistake, you know how to find me.” I didn’t know where he got his confidence. Did he think I, like other wolves, suffered from mate-bond anxiety? Did he think my years of spoiling him meant he owned me? Had he forgotten that I am an Alpha? The only female Alpha ruling a major pack in this territory. I stepped aside, leaving the doorway wide open. “Please, be my guest.” Over the next few days, Ethan kept trying to play his little games. He demanded I buy a new car for his human mistress as an apology. When I ignored him, he came back and took more stars. He found a penthouse he wanted me to buy. When I refused to wire the money, he took more stars. Soon enough, only a couple of lonely paper stars remained at the bottom of the jar. I was actually curious. Once the stars were gone, would he really leave? Before I could find out, I received a Snapchat message from Ryder. *Are you going to the Cartier Gala tonight?* I asked Mia. Indeed, Cartier had sent an invitation. Usually, I skipped these luxury brand shows, but I hadn’t seen Ryder in a few days and missed his touch. I typed back: *I’ll be there.*

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My mother was trapped in a roaring fire. My husband, Ethan, who was the local Fire Captain, rushed to the scene. But instead of going inside, he turned the hose toward a burning trash can on the curb. He cradled a completely unharmed stray cat in his arms and told the onlookers: “Every life is equal. Every life deserves respect.” “Audrey’s mom is a grown adult. She isn’t stupid enough to just sit inside and wait to die.” By the time I got the news and rushed home, the house was nothing but a pile of smoldering ruins. There was only a charred skeleton left, along with my mother’s melted ring. Just then, Ethan called me, his voice bursting with joy. “I saved the cat, Audrey! The vet said if I had been even a minute later…” My voice was dead and dry. “My mom is dead.” “There’s nothing left of her. Not even a body.” Ethan was still riding his high. He went on and on about how happy his childhood friend, Chloe, was when she saw the kitten was safe. During the entire call, he didn’t ask about my mother once. But that was just who Ethan was. He would spend thousands on a sick stray cat. He would hike through the woods all night to find the owner of a lost dog. He would climb onto roofs again and again just to rescue Chloe’s cat. He just couldn’t spare a single drop of empathy for me. I wiped my tears. I had never felt so calm in my entire life. “Let’s get a divorce, Ethan.” His voice sounded muffled, far away. After a long pause, he gave me a half-hearted reply. “Great. I’m glad Susan is okay.” 1 The line didn’t disconnect. I could faintly hear the cat whimpering in the background. I stared at the blackened, ruined house. I couldn’t even cry anymore. Ethan’s voice came closer to the phone again. “I’ll be home late. The kitten still needs some tests at the vet.” Knowing Ethan’s habit of tuned-out hearing whenever I spoke, I held the phone tight and screamed with every last bit of my strength. “I want a divorce, Ethan! I can’t do this for another second!” This time, Ethan heard me loud and clear. His voice boomed through the receiver, making the phone vibrate in my hand. “Are you losing your mind again, Audrey?” “Can you stop throwing tantrums out of nowhere?” I couldn’t hold back the rage and grief screaming inside me anymore. I collapsed, clutching my head, sobbing hysterically. “Yes! Just assume I’m crazy!” “On our wedding night, Chloe called, and you ran out in your undershirt just to save her cat!” “On Christmas, I cooked a whole dinner, and you told me Chloe’s cat was sick and you had to nurse it!” “My mom’s house was on fire, and you chose a stray cat on the street over her life!” “Are these lies, Ethan? Did I make any of this up?” “You know damn well if I’m crazy or not!” Ethan’s heavy breathing filled the line. After a long moment, he let out a sigh. “You need to calm down. Now is not the time for this.” The line went dead. Suddenly, I realized that screaming and crying would never change anything. He didn’t love me. So, my feelings meant absolutely nothing to him. I knelt down, scooped up a handful of the soot and ashes from the ruins, and put it in my pocket. When I got to my temporary place, I placed the ash gently into a clear glass mason jar. I would find a beautiful cemetery in a few days and give her a proper burial. When Ethan finally came home, he was covered in cat hair. He knew I was severely allergic to cats, but he had never cared. “Why are you so dirty? Go wash yourself.” I looked down at my soot-covered hands and my burned clothes. He was a professional firefighter, yet he couldn’t even tell I had just come from a fire scene. “I don’t have a mom anymore, Ethan. I have nothing left.” Hot tears streamed down my face. Ethan walked over, wiped my tears with his thumb, and pushed me toward the bathroom. He still wasn’t listening. Not a single word registered. “You look like a mess. Go take a shower. I’ll dry your hair after.” He pushed me in and shut the door. The sound of the running water couldn’t drown out the sound of his phone ringing outside. It was Chloe. “Ethan, I love the kitten you saved today. I’ll adopt him as soon as he’s discharged.” Ethan’s voice turned incredibly soft. “Your house is practically a zoo already. But it’s fine, as long as you’re happy.” I guessed it was around 8:00 PM. Like clockwork, Ethan and Chloe would call each other at this time every day. They never talked about anything else—just cats. I could never join the conversation, nor did they give me a chance. Because of my severe cat allergy, cats were a forbidden topic. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Ethan had tossed his phone onto the couch. He was out on the balcony, pruning the potted roses. I looked at the coffee table. The glass mason jar was empty. Panic seized me. I rushed out to the balcony, clutching the empty jar. “Where are the ashes inside this?” “What did you do with them?” Ethan didn’t even look up from his rose bush. “Wasn’t that just dirt you brought back for the plants?” “Why are you screaming over nothing?” The glass jar slipped from my fingers, shattering into pieces on the floor. “That was my mother’s ash, Ethan. Not dirt.” I stood there, completely numb. I didn’t even have the strength to yell at him. But he didn’t care. He brushed past me, rushing toward the coffee table. His phone was ringing. It was Chloe’s custom ringtone. “The cat climbed onto the roof again? Hang on, I’m on my way.” Ethan turned to me, his eyes filled with genuine anxiety. “Dry your hair yourself. I have an emergency.” “Also, clean up the broken glass. Don’t cut your feet.” His concern for me only existed in empty words. But for Chloe, he was always ready to run. The next day, I went down to a local law firm to consult about the divorce. Halfway through the meeting, a sharp, stabbing pain hit my lower abdomen. 2 By the time I realized what was happening, blood was already running down my legs. Only then did I remember that my period was a whole month late. I scrambled into an Uber to rush to the hospital, but we got stuck in a massive traffic jam. The driver was honking his horn, furious. “All this traffic for a damn cat? Are you kidding me?” “The whole street is blocked. These people have too much time on their hands.” Then, the driver looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Miss, you look incredibly pale. Are you okay?” “It looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” The pain in my stomach was getting worse, tearing me apart inside. I clutched my stomach and shook my head, unable to speak. Following the driver’s gaze, I looked out the window. I saw Ethan. He was climbing onto a roof. For Chloe’s cat, he had stayed up on that roof the entire night. The crowd below was looking up at him, cheering and taking videos. “He’s so sweet! He cares so much about a little cat. Firefighters are real heroes!” “The world doesn’t just belong to humans. Animals have rights too. This makes me want to cry. He’s amazing!” “He got it! He got the cat! Thank god, I was so scared it would fall!” The crowd cheered, clapping for Ethan’s bravery. But just yesterday, because of his “bravery,” a human life was lost. My mom had trusted Ethan so much. When the fire broke out, the first thing she did was call him. She didn’t even call 911 because she believed her son-in-law would save her. But her trust was met with betrayal. She must have been waiting in that burning house, praying for Ethan to break down the door and carry her to safety. But Ethan was just down the street, putting out a trash can fire for a cat. What was my mom thinking in her final moments? Was she terrified? Was she heartbroken? Maybe, until the moment she died, she was still staring at the door, waiting for him. I lost count of how many times Chloe’s cat had “escaped.” But every single time, Ethan would tirelessly go and rescue it. I used to scream and fight about it. Once, I even grabbed his phone when Chloe called. “Why do you do everything Chloe asks? You’d risk your life to rescue a cat that keeps escaping!” “Why is everything I say wrong? Why am I always the ‘jealous wife’? Ethan, I am your wife! But you won’t even grant me one small favor!” “If you love her so much, why didn’t you marry Chloe instead?” That was the first time Ethan slapped me. The stinging pain on my cheek woke me up. His disgust for me had reached a point where he would rather use violence than speak to me calmly. After that, I became numb. And Ethan gave me a late, pathetic explanation. “You don’t understand because you don’t like cats. Chloe and I just share a love for animals.” “Nothing ever happened between us.” My thoughts snapped back to the present. The traffic finally started to move. Out the window, Ethan was holding the cat, enjoying the applause of the crowd like a hero. While I sat in the cold back seat of an Uber, watching my own baby’s life slip away. “You had a miscarriage. It was likely brought on by severe emotional stress.” “If you had gotten here a few minutes earlier, we might have saved the baby.” Listening to the doctor, I didn’t even cry. I took the prescription and walked out of the hospital alone. Now, I could finally leave Ethan without a single regret. 3 As I reached the apartment door, I heard voices inside. It was Chloe. She was at our place. If this were before, I would have stormed in and started a screaming match. But after everything, I didn’t care anymore. I opened the door. Ethan froze when he saw me. “Where have you been? You look pale as a ghost.” He was smiling, trying to joke around. But I didn’t find it funny. He had no idea his child was gone because of him. “I was at the hospital.” Ethan was cradling the cat, stroking its fur. At my response, he just gave a distracted, “Oh.” He didn’t ask if I was sick. He didn’t ask why I went to the hospital. His reaction was so cold. He cared more about the stray cat in his arms than his own wife. Cat dander was floating everywhere in the air. I covered my nose and tried to walk past them to the bedroom. Suddenly, Chloe gasped, covering her mouth. “Audrey, you have blood on your pants. Did your period start?” I clenched my fists, standing still by the door. My blood ran cold at her words. Ethan put the cat down and walked over to me. “Audrey, how can you be this messy?” “You don’t care about your dignity, but I care about mine. What if someone saw you? Go change your clothes right now.” I wonder if his embarrassment would turn into regret once he found out the truth. I turned around, my breathing already getting heavy. Due to the miscarriage and my severe cat allergy, my body was giving out. “What if I told you that wasn’t period blood?” Ethan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Do you think I’m blind? Stop making excuses.” “If it’s not blood, what is it?” I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Our baby.” His expression froze. His arms dropped to his sides. He took a step toward me, but before he could speak, Chloe burst out laughing. “Oh, Audrey, that is not funny at all.” “You actually scared Ethan for a second. You’re so mean.” The tension instantly vanished. Ethan’s face twisted from shock to deep disgust. “Enough, Audrey. That is the cheapest, most pathetic lie you’ve ever told.” I knew that no matter what I said, he would never believe me. In his mind, I was already the villain. The allergy was kicking in. My throat was tightening, and I could barely stand. “Ethan… get the cat out of here. I can’t breathe.” He turned his back on me coldheartedly and sat back down next to Chloe. “The ‘boy who cried wolf’ story only works once, Audrey.” “You haven’t even touched the cat. How could you be having an allergic reaction?” I couldn’t hold on anymore. I collapsed right at Ethan’s feet. The loud thud of my body hitting the floor and the blood trickling from my nose didn’t move him. Chloe was staring at her phone, scrolling through social media. “Ethan, look! A puppy fell into the river!” “Oh my god, so sad! Let’s go save it! It’s so small!” I reached out, trying to grab Ethan’s pant leg. But he moved too fast, leaving me with no chance to ask for help. Before he shut the front door, he glanced back at me. “The floor is cold. Get up. Don’t blame me if you catch a cold.” 4 It was a utility worker who came to check the gas line who found me and called 91

She told me later that if the front door hadn’t been slightly left ajar, I would have died of anaphylactic shock. I stayed in the hospital for two days. On the second day, Ethan finally called. “Where are you? The apartment is a mess. Why haven’t you cleaned up?” I squeezed my discharge papers tightly and replied: “I’m at the hospital. I’m getting discharged today.” I heard Ethan let out a frustrated sigh. “I think you mentioned the hospital a few days ago too. What’s wrong with you? Are you actually sick?” This time, he actually heard what I said. He didn’t deflect. He didn’t make excuses. But I had already lost any desire to explain. I walked down to the lobby and picked up several copies of the divorce agreement I had requested. This time, whether he listened or not, I was going to end this. There was no point in dragging it out. When I got home, I placed the papers calmly on the coffee table. Ethan was in the kitchen cooking. I called out to him, my back turned. “Sign this when you have a moment.” He turned around, looking surprised. I added: “The divorce papers.” He finally walked over, his eyes locked onto the documents. “Just because I didn’t play along with your sick pregnancy joke, you’re throwing a tantrum and demanding a divorce?” “Audrey, we are adults. Stop being so childish.” I threw my medical reports and discharge papers onto the table, right in front of him. “I was pregnant. But thanks to you, I lost the baby.” “Ethan, we’re done. Every single day with you has been pure torture.” I sat on the floor, curling myself into a ball. Ethan stared at the medical report, then at the divorce papers. “You fabricated a fake miscarriage report just to guilt-trip me?” “Think about it, Audrey. How many times have you threatened divorce this week?” “Whatever. I’ll stay at the fire station for a few days. We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down.” He didn’t want to treat me well, but he didn’t want to let me go either. Being tied to him was only dragging us both into hell. Because of the cat rescue on the roof, Ethan was once again hailed as a local hero on TikTok. But he didn’t deserve that title at all. Local news channels kept interviewing him. During this time, my grief and anger only intensified. I couldn’t stop picturing how my mother died in those flames. And I couldn’t forget how Ethan had repeatedly left me in danger. So, I made a choice. I sent a detailed report with evidence to the Fire Department’s internal affairs. A few days later, Ethan was doing another live TV interview. He looked sharp and proud. When the reporter asked him a question, he answered smoothly. “I just did what anyone would do. I believe anyone who saw that kitten would have done the same.” The reporter, Jessica, changed her tone. “So, Captain, do you think a cat’s life is more important than a human’s life?” Without hesitation, Ethan smiled. “Human life always comes first. Absolutely.” Jessica’s face went cold. “Then why, when a human and a cat were both in danger, did you choose to save the cat?” “And let a woman burn to death?” Ethan’s hands began to sweat. His confident posture crumbled instantly. He looked past the cameras and saw me standing in the crowd. His eyes panicked. He looked like he wanted to beg me to save him, to make an excuse for him. I walked forward, holding my mother’s framed portrait in my arms. “Give her an explanation, Ethan.” The cameras immediately turned toward me. Ethan’s voice shook. “Audrey… you said Susan was alive… didn’t you?” My heart was breaking, but I kept my voice dead cold. “You were the one who said that. I never did.” Ethan’s proud shoulders collapsed. He took a weak step toward me. “Where is Susan? She’s still alive, right?” I looked into his eyes and said, word by word: “She is in our apartment. On the balcony. In the rose pot you dumped her ashes into.”

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I have severe asthma and a life-threatening allergy to animal dander. But on the first day of the semester, my roommate brought thirty stray dogs into our dorm. When I tried to get them out, she burst into tears, blocking the door. “How can you be so selfish, Chloe? They have nowhere else to go! Are you seriously going to throw them out into the cold?” I begged her to take them to a local shelter. But in my past life, that single request turned the entire campus against me. They labeled me as cold-blooded, claiming I couldn’t even tolerate a few helpless puppies. Eventually, the extreme buildup of dog dander triggered a severe asthma attack. My airway swelled shut, and I suffocated to death right on our dorm floor. Becca didn’t feel a shred of guilt. Instead, she went live on TikTok, crying to her followers that my “lack of patience” had stressed the poor dogs out, indirectly blaming me for my own death. She gained millions of sympathetic followers. Those rabid fans went as far as scattering my ashes in the trash and relentlessly cyberbullying my parents online, which eventually led to their fatal car accident. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on move-in day. Becca was standing in our room, holding a filthy, shivering stray dog, her eyes red as she looked at me. “He’s so helpless, Chloe. Can we please keep him? Please?” I smiled, nodding gently. “Sure.” But why did she end up regretting it?

Hearing Becca’s voice again was the moment I realized I had been reborn. A sharp, phantom pain flared in my chest. The agonizing sensation of suffocating to death still lingered in my throat. “Please, Chloe? Just for a little bit?” Becca took a step closer, holding the dirty dog out like a shield. I instinctively stepped back. Our other roommate, Harper, was a total people-pleaser. She shuffled her feet, looking uncomfortable. “But, Becca… aren’t pets against the dorm policy?” Maya, who usually kept to herself, just glanced up from her phone and shrugged, saying nothing. Becca’s tears spilled over instantly. “Rules are just words, Harper! This is a living soul! If we throw him out, he’ll die!” The same words. The exact same scene. In my past life, this was the moment I had stood up and protested fiercely. I had told them I had severe asthma and was deadly allergic to dog dander. And Becca had cried, saying, “Your allergy is just temporary discomfort, but his life is forever!” I had argued that keeping pets was a violation of housing rules, and we would all get written up. She had pointed a finger at me, sobbing, “How can you be so cold and selfish? Is your perfect record more important than a living animal?” When I tried to take the dog to a shelter, she sat at our dorm entrance, cradling the dog and crying to every passing student that I was an animal abuser. Eventually, she hoarded thirty strays in our room. And I died of asphyxiation. After my death, she started livestreaming, branding herself as a savior of stray animals. She gained millions of followers and rode her fake charity straight to fame and wealth. “Chloe?” Becca’s eyes held a subtle, mocking challenge. I stared at the dog in her arms. My throat tightened instinctively, but I forced a sweet, warm smile onto my face. “Sure. Keep him.” The room went dead silent. Becca froze. Harper and Maya stared at me like I had lost my mind. “Are you sure?” Becca stammered. I smiled wider. “Of course. Which is why I’m moving out of this room right now. You can do all the charity work you want in here!” Becca blinked, completely speechless. The other two roommates couldn’t believe their ears. “Chloe… are you sure you don’t want to think about it?” Harper asked. Before she could finish, I cut her off. “Nope. Decision made.” In my past life, these two “good girls” had used me as a shield, letting me speak up so they wouldn’t have to deal with the dog. But after I died, they immediately turned on me. They went on Becca’s livestream, profiting off my death and chasing clout. I turned on my heel and walked straight to the Housing Administration office. The Resident Director, Mrs. Davies, was sorting through the freshman rosters. She looked up, surprised by my sudden appearance. I placed a neat stack of documents on her desk. It was my certified hospital reports for severe asthma and animal dander allergies, along with a completed dorm transfer request form. “Mrs. Davies, I have severe bronchial asthma and a life-threatening allergy to animal dander,” I said clearly. “My roommate, Becca Sinclair, just brought a stray dog into our room. I respect her desire to save animals, but for my own survival, I need to request an emergency room transfer.” The office went silent. Jake, the student assistant sitting nearby, let out a soft gasp. “Bringing a dog into the residence hall is a serious violation,” Mrs. Davies said, her eyebrows knitting together. “But surely you girls can talk this out first?” Just then, Becca appeared at the door, holding the dog and looking miserable. “Mrs. Davies, I just wanted to give a helpless animal a home.” The pity on Jake’s face immediately turned to confusion. Mrs. Davies looked at the shivering, filthy dog in Becca’s arms. “Becca, why didn’t you take it to the humane society? Why bring it here? You know the campus housing policies.”

Becca squeezed the dog tighter. “But he looked so sad! I only wanted to give him a temporary place to sleep!” As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. By now, a few curious freshmen had gathered outside the open office door, whispering. “Oh my god, she’s so sweet,” someone whispered. Others threw judging looks at me, silent disapproval written all over their faces. The familiar tightness crept back into my chest. In my last life, it was always like this. As long as Becca cried, the entire world took her side. When I said I was allergic, they said I was being dramatic. When I cited dorm rules, they said we should show compassion. When I said my life was in danger, they accused me of having a cold heart. Even after I died in that dorm room, people on the school forum debated if I had “deserved it” for being so close-minded. I ignored Becca and looked straight at Mrs. Davies. “Mrs. Davies, I’m not here to judge her kindness. I am only requesting to not live under the same roof as her.” Becca’s sobbing hitched. She looked up in disbelief, tears clinging to her eyelashes. “Chloe, why are you being so hostile toward me?” “I’m not hostile toward you. I’m allergic to the dog,” I said flatly. She stumbled back half a step, looking completely devastated. “So what if you’re allergic? He didn’t ask to be born a dog! He just wants to live!” I didn’t bother wasting my breath on her. I simply pushed my medical files closer to Mrs. Davies. Mrs. Davies scanned the allergy report, her frown deepening. “A room transfer requires approval from both the department dean and housing services. The bureaucracy takes time.” Becca quickly wiped her nose, putting on a saintly act. “Mrs. Davies, don’t worry about all that hassle.” “I’ll work hard to show Chloe how sweet animals can be. I’ll watch him every second. I promise he won’t bother her.” I looked at her, enunciating every word. “I don’t want to get used to him.” “I support your charity work, Becca. But I also have the right to protect my own health. Those two things can coexist.” Whispers erupted from the hallway. “She’s so heartless. If I were Becca’s roommate, I’d help her raise the dog!” “Seriously. How can someone be so cold-blooded?” I looked at these online trolls and almost laughed out loud. Let’s see if they still feel that way when they have to live with thirty stray, un-potty-trained dogs. “Mrs. Davies, if I have a medical emergency on campus due to a known hazard, the university will be held legally liable,” I said calmly. “I can wait for the paperwork, but I need you to initiate the transfer immediately.” Mrs. Davies winced. “Dorm transfers are a nightmare right now… Why don’t you girls go back and try to communicate? You’re college students now. You need to learn to resolve roommate conflicts.” Hearing this, Becca’s tears flowed even faster. “Mrs. Davies, we don’t want to cause trouble for you! I’ll talk to Chloe.” “Chloe, let’s go. Let’s not bother the director. We can solve this ourselves.” The students crowding the doorway began to chime in. “Yeah, just go talk it out. You’re both girls, it’s not that deep.” “Starting the semester with a dramatic room transfer is just a bad look anyway.” Becca cradled the dog, speaking just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Chloe, I just wish you wouldn’t reject a precious life so easily.” “Look how good he is. He doesn’t even bark.” “Why do you have to be so hateful?”

In my past life, it was at this exact moment that my heart softened, and I gave in. I had thought it wasn’t worth ruining roommate relationships on the very first day. So, I had followed her back. That same night, she brought in more dogs, feeding them and grooming them right in our room. The air had become thick with fine dander and hair. My throat felt like it was being scraped with sandpaper. When I crawled out of bed to find my medication, she had grabbed my inhaler and thrown it out the window, crying, “Chloe, you can’t use that chemical spray in front of them! The fumes will poison them!” Later, as I knelt on the floor, gasping for air, a terrifying wheeze rattling in my chest, she was still hugging her dog, whispering, “Don’t be scared, sweetie. She didn’t mean to make that scary noise.” “Why do you always have to make everything a massive scene?” Becca hissed, suddenly snapping out of her memories and glaring at me. “We could have easily worked this out in private!” I immediately took a step back, widening the gap between us. “Get away from me.” Becca bit her lip, tears instantly welling up again. “I didn’t even do anything to you.” “Why are you acting like I’m a monster?” Suddenly, the office door was slammed open. A campus security officer rushed in, his face pale with panic. “Mrs. Davies! We have an emergency! A student was just attacked and severely bitten by a stray dog over at the Quad!” Mrs. Davies leaped up. “What? Is it bad?” “A chunk of his arm was practically torn off! They’re rushing him to the emergency room! Apparently, that dog has been hanging around because someone keeps feeding it!” The office went dead silent. Becca’s face drained of all color. “But… dogs are so sweet,” she mumbled, unconsciously letting go of the dog in her arms. Startled, the puppy bolted. It ran straight toward Mrs. Davies’s desk, jumping onto the freshly printed freshman records and urinating all over them. Becca’s eyes went wide. “Chloe must have scared him! He’s usually so well-behaved!” Once again, everyone’s eyes locked onto me. It was just like my past life. Back then, her dogs had shredded my medical files, and everyone blamed me for “provoking her” and making her too emotional to watch her pets. When I suffocated, they said I was just too fragile and dramatic, refusing to blame her “kind heart.” Becca’s crying cut off in her throat. “Mrs. Davies, I… I didn’t mean to.” Mrs. Davies closed her eyes, looking completely exhausted. “Everyone out. Let’s go see what’s happening at the Quad.” By the time we arrived, the paramedics were loading a bleeding male student into an ambulance. A security guard stood nearby holding a catch-pole. Trapped in the loop was a snarling, dirty stray, growling menacingly. The moment Becca saw the dog, she screamed and tried to charge forward. “Buster! Don’t hurt him!”

The guard blocked her immediately. “Miss, stay back! This dog just mauled someone. It’s dangerous!” “He didn’t mean to!” Becca sobbed frantically. “That guy must have threatened him! Buster is the sweetest dog!” The injured student’s friend was shaking with rage. “He was literally just walking by! You feed these wild dogs every single day, making them lose their fear of humans! Now someone is mutilated and you’re blaming us?!” The crowd of onlookers erupted. Many of them recognized Becca. “Yeah, that’s her. She always brings cafeteria scraps to feed them.” “I told her last week to stop feeding the strays before someone got hurt, but she just called me heartless.” Becca shrieked, throwing herself toward the guard. “No!” “If my selfish roommate had let me keep the puppy in our room, Buster wouldn’t have gotten stressed and bitten anyone!” “If you want to blame someone, blame Chloe!” The guard’s expression hardened. “Miss, worry about yourself first.” Becca clung to her shivering, peeing puppy. “You can’t take him away from me!” Some bystanders handed her tissues. Others pulled out their phones, filming the entire drama. In the end, Mrs. Davies moved me to an adjacent dorm building for the night. “Stay here tonight, Chloe. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll personally expedite your room transfer.” The new dorm was clean, and the roommates seemed nice. But by that afternoon, the campus forum was on fire. 【Compassionate feeding or inviting danger? Student severely mauled by stray dog on campus!】 In the comments, someone anonymously leaked that Becca had been hoarding and feeding strays on campus for months despite multiple warnings. But very quickly, the narrative was spun. A new post was pinned to the top of the forum: 【Exposing the cold-blooded roommate who got a sweet girl disciplined】 The post featured a photo of Becca crying beautifully, contrasted with a candid shot of my cold, expressionless face in the housing office. “Breaking news! The girl who feeds the strays might get suspended, all because her roommate refused to let a puppy stay in their room!” “Oh my god, is her roommate insane? Even if feeding strays isn’t perfect, her intentions were pure!” “Ruining someone’s life just for your own convenience? That’s sick.” Dozens of people started tagging my account, demanding answers. Skylar, my new roommate, handed me her phone, looking incredibly awkward. “Chloe… do you want to post a statement or something?” In my past life, I had tried to explain. I had posted my emergency room records, photos of my swollen throat, and details of my asthma attacks. Nobody believed me. They called them fake. My phone vibrated constantly with hateful Snapchat notifications and texts from the class group chat. “Some people really love playing the victim. Running to the administration on day one just to feel powerful.” “We have to sit in the same lectures with her. How embarrassing.” “Since when is respecting life a crime?” I quietly took screenshots of every single message and saved them to a secure folder. Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I opened it. Becca stood there, cradling the puppy, looking pitiful. “Chloe, please talk to me. The puppy missed you. He came to ask for your forgiveness.” Before I could speak, she grabbed my arm and shoved the dog directly into my chest. My lungs instantly seized. I gasped, trying to push her away. But Becca had freakish strength. She held onto me tightly, her eyes red. “Just hold him! See how cute he is!” A violent, uncontrollable cough ripped from my throat. I couldn’t breathe. “Get… away…” Using every ounce of my remaining strength, I shoved her off me. The startled dog tumbled to the floor, growling, and immediately lunged. Becca lost her balance, crashing to the ground and screaming at the top of her lungs. “Ahhh! Help me!”

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I am a once-in-a-century wolf. A born Luna,blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. But my fated mate,Kyle,was obsessed with Lila—a lowly Omega maid. He resented me because the Goddess chose me. Not her. The day of our mating ceremony,Lila stood there,sobbing. Then right in front of the entire pack,Kyle shoved the sacred chalice off the altar. “Lila is carrying my pup!She’s my only Luna!” “This mating was forced by my mother.” “Know your place,and you can stay as a maid.” I scoffed,turning to face the pack below. “Fine.If this is how it is,I hereby reject my mating bond with Kyle!” “Wolves of the pack! Whoever wants to claim me today,I,Seraphina,will leave with you right now!” … The great hall went dead silent. Then,the whispers started. Spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Everyone knew what I was. A once-in-a-century wolf. A born Luna. Whoever claimed me would become the next Alpha King. Rejecting the bond?For an Omega maid? Kyle had lost his damn mind. I could see a few Alphas in the crowd,their eyes already glowing. Kyle saw it too. His wolf bristled with rage. “You have a lot of nerve,Seraphina! Your name is already carved into my family’s sacred stone!” “I may not want you,but no one else gets you either! Any wolf who takes you is openly declaring war on my bloodline. That’s treason against the entire pack!” Treason. The threat hung heavy in the air. The great hall went dead silent again. Those Alphas who looked so eager a second ago? I watched them lower their heads. No one dared. Not a single one.

Kyle smirked,looking down at me with pure arrogance. “See that,Seraphina?” “You can either die alone,or get thrown into the wasteland to feed the beasts. Take your pick.” He was so sure I wouldn’t dare fight back. But he forgot one crucial detail. He wasn’t the absolute ruler of this pack. While I stood there in silence,Ella—Kyle’s mother—rushed in. She marched straight up and slapped Lila hard across the face. “You little tramp!How dare you seduce my son at his own mating ceremony!” “Guards!Drag this piece of trash out of here! Deal with her according to pack law!” Lila shrieked. She collapsed right on cue,clutching her belly and sobbing. Fiercely protective,Kyle instantly shielded her,glaring at the guards. “Lila is under my protection!Anyone who touches her answers to me!” Ella stared at him,utterly devastated. She never expected Kyle to lose his mind over a maid like this. “Kyle,do you know how many powerful Alphas begged for Seraphina?” “Do you know how hard I had to fight to secure this bond for you?!” “Seraphina’s bloodline is impeccable! Her destiny would have brought you absolute glory!” “And you humiliate her like this? Right in front of the entire pack?!”

Kyle jutted his chin out,completely unbothered. “I never said I didn’t want her! I just needed to put her in her place so she doesn’t try to bully Lila later!” He looked at me like he was doing me a massive favor. “As long as you treat Lila well and put her needs first,I’ll still accept you as my mate. I’ll even give you the Luna title to save your dignity.” “But don’t ever expect me to touch you.” “Lila is three months pregnant. Once the pup is born,you’ll be the one raising it. I won’t have Lila exhausting herself.” “And your father is the pack’s High Priest,right? He can be the pup’s personal tutor, making sure my heir is raised for greatness!” The whole room froze. Everyone was stunned by his outrageous demands. Ella’s face burned with humiliation. But then she remembered the pup growing in Lila’s womb. Kyle’s flesh and blood. Unable to punish that pregnant maid,she forced a smile and grabbed my hands. “My dear,this is all my fault. I failed to discipline him,and now you’re the one suffering.” “But the whole pack is watching. Could you just…pretend to agree to his demands? Let us get through the ceremony first.” “I promise you,I will handle this later. I will never let that little bitch step over you!” My heart turned to ice. Ella could make all the pretty promises she wanted,but I wasn’t stupid. If she couldn’t control him today,she never would.

I gently pulled my hands from hers. “Lady Ella,I refuse to turn a blind eye to disrespect.” “Have you forgotten? When you begged my mother for this bond,you swore it yourself. Kyle would only ever have one mate.” “And now?The ceremony isn’t even finished, yet he humiliates me for a mistress—and gets her pregnant with a bastard pup.” “With all due respect,I’d rather die alone than mate with a wolf like him.” Ella didn’t expect me to be so defiant. The color instantly drained from her face. But Kyle was furious. He pointed a finger straight at me and roared: “You really think I’ll take you as my mate just because my mother backs you?! Keep dreaming,Seraphina!” “I’d love to see how you finish this ceremony without me!” With that,Kyle scooped Lila into his arms and stormed off. He didn’t even look back. Ella’s desperate pleading fell on deaf ears. Abandoned on the day of my own mating ceremony. The entire pack stared at me,filled with pity. But Ella wasn’t giving up. “My dear,today is Kyle’s fault. But the ceremony cannot be delayed.” “What if we use a white wolf as his proxy to finish the ritual for now? We can always make it right later.” “If this bond is broken,you won’t just be humiliated. The Council of Elders will punish you for breaking the pact.”

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The day we went to the County Clerk’s Office to get our marriage license, my boyfriend Jason walked out on me. All because his intern secretary Alice had her thesis defense that day, and she’d apparently be too nervous without him there. “Wendy, we’ll come back tomorrow. Today’s defense determines Alice’s entire future.” He said it like it was nothing, already turning to leave. Ever since Alice joined the company, Jason had abandoned me for her time and time again. And now, even our marriage application had to be postponed for that girl. My nails dug deep into my palms as I called after him. “Jason, if you walk out that door today, we’re done.” His face twisted with irritation. “Wendy, how old are you? Stop throwing tantrums like a child.” “We can apply for a marriage license any day. But if I don’t show up today, Alice’s future is ruined.” “Have you forgotten how hard it was for you when nobody had your back? I’m doing this for the version of you she reminds me of!” “Can you please stop being so petty with a young girl?” I watched his figure disappear through the glass doors. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed my father. “Dad, I’ll marry Leon.” … Less than half an hour later, Leon’s black Lincoln pulled up outside. He was the only son of my father’s business partner—the match our families had chosen for an arranged marriage. We resubmitted the application and held a brief, solemn ceremony of vows. Before we exchanged our declarations, Leon opened a red velvet box and held it out to me. The Graff ring was breathtaking—dozens of smaller diamonds clustered around a brilliant yellow center stone that caught the light like captured fire. I instinctively gripped the fabric of my dress. Leon’s deep, resonant voice reached my ear. “I imagine you probably didn’t have time to prepare. But marriage deserves at least some ceremony. I picked this up on the way over—if you don’t care for the style, we can fly to Paris in a few days and have one custom-made.” I shook my head, my eyes stinging. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you. I love it.” I slipped the cheap silver ring I’d worn for eight years off my finger and dropped it into the trash. Then I picked up the simple platinum band resting beside that lavish diamond, and slowly slid it onto Leon’s ring finger. Twenty minutes later, I was legally Leon’s wife. Stepping outside, the sunlight was almost blinding. The sycamores rustled in the breeze, their leaves whispering. Leon turned to look at me. “I’ve already had my butler transfer the nearest villa into your name. The gate code is today’s date. You can move in whenever you’d like.” I nodded. “I only took a half day off. I’ll go back to the apartment tonight to pack, then move over.” Leon smiled and accepted my arrangement without argument. He drove me to the Westbrook Group headquarters. After the car came to a stop, he reached into the back seat and handed me an elegantly wrapped pastry box. “The housekeeper made Opéra cake. Share it with your colleagues.” I stared at the box, momentarily dazed. In eight years with Jason, we’d kept our relationship a secret. When the company was just starting out, he said he couldn’t guarantee me a future yet—we’d go public once things stabilized. During the expansion phase, he said it was the critical sprint to IPO—he’d marry me after the listing. After the company successfully went public, he pulled rank as CEO, citing the company’s policy against office romances—he had to lead by example, and we’d announce things after the wedding. Until today, everyone in the company only knew I had a boyfriend. Not a single person knew that my boyfriend was the CEO himself. But in that moment, I finally understood: some things were never mine to begin with. “If it’s inconvenient for you…” The second before Leon could pull the pastry box back, I caught the edge of the ribbon and looked up with a small smile. “It’s not inconvenient at all. I love it.” “Good. I’ll pick you up after work tonight.” “Okay.” I watched his car merge into the bustling flow of New York traffic, then turned and walked into the office tower. A Microsoft Teams notification popped up immediately—a message tagging me, from Jason. @Wendy: *Wendy, bring the complete assessment report for the wetland park project to my office in five minutes.* The wetland park project had only been presented to the board yesterday. The next scheduled review wasn’t for another two weeks. Several subordinates from different departments messaged me privately, asking if there was some major crisis with the project. After reassuring them, I gathered the files and headed straight for the top floor. “Jason, here are the documents for the wetland park project. Which section needs your review?” Jason pressed his fingers against his temples. “Are you still throwing a fit about this morning?” “Jason, if this is about work, please give me your instructions. If it’s personal, I have a full plate to get back to.” I turned to leave, but Jason stepped forward and blocked my path. “What happened this morning was my fault. As soon as I’m back from this business trip, we’ll get married. You can start planning our wedding in the meantime.” This morning it was *wait until tomorrow.* Now it was *wait until after his trip.* For Jason, everything on his to-do list that involved me could be indefinitely postponed. And all I ever got in return was one delay after another. “Jason, do you honestly believe I’ll just stand in place forever, waiting for you?” Jason’s brow furrowed, his expression dripping with impatience. “Wendy, I’ve already conceded and agreed to marry you. Don’t push it!” “Push it? Fine—then let me push it one last time. I’ve already gotten mar—” A knock at the door cut me off. Alice walked in wearing a Chanel dress, files in her arms. “Jason, here’s the cross-border contract that needs your urgent signature.” The instant Jason looked at her, the coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by a rare softness. “Perfect timing—Wendy’s here too. You two can do the handoff for the wetland park project right now.” My head snapped up. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What did you just say? Handoff?”

“Alice transfers to the business division tomorrow. She needs results to establish credibility. The wetland park proposal is already mature—let her cut her teeth on it.” I gripped the folder in my hands so hard my knuckles went white, rage surging straight to my brain. “I spent six months leading a team to land that project, and you’re handing it to her to *cut her teeth on*?” “This is a strategic company decision.” Jason’s voice didn’t waver. I let out a cold laugh. “Is this the board’s strategic decision, or your personal decision to prop her up?” “Wendy, everyone was new to the workforce once. Don’t be so selfish. Get it ready—one week for the handoff.” “And if I refuse?” “Either hand over the project or leave the company. Your choice.” Looking at that cold, merciless face, a scene from years ago flashed through my mind. Back when an executive at a partner firm made a mistake, they’d called me to shift the blame—screaming at me over the phone for more than an hour. When Jason found out, he was so furious he wanted to rip up the contract and confront them. I was the one who stopped him. I’d cried and told him: if we terminate now, then that hour of humiliation I endured would have been for nothing. Jason had grabbed my hand and run with me to the nearest church, where he promised before God that he would never let me suffer again. Now every ounce of suffering in my life came directly from him. Alice timidly reached out and tugged at Jason’s sleeve, her expression innocent and wide-eyed. “Jason, if Wendy doesn’t want to, just forget it… Don’t fight because of me…” Jason’s voice turned gentle. “When I make a promise, I keep it.” I’d originally planned to stay until the project was fully delivered before resigning. Clearly, there was no point in waiting. I swallowed the nausea rising in my chest. “My resignation letter will go straight to your inbox. But until my last day, I’m not handing over anything to her. After I’m gone, the project is no longer my concern. Do whatever you want with it.” With that, I shouldered past him and walked out of the office. I downloaded the resignation form, filled it out, and sent it to the CEO’s email. Half an hour later, Alice appeared at my desk holding an approved termination slip. “Wendy, here’s your termination form—Jason already signed it. Could you please transfer the wetland park project’s underlying data to me?” I pushed the hard drive and stack of printed materials I’d already organized across the desk. “It’s all here.” Alice smiled as she gathered the core files into her arms, eyes glittering with triumph. “Oh, Wendy, I’m about to fly to Switzerland with Jason on his private jet for a business trip, so I won’t bother you any longer. Thanks for the project.” Shortly after she left, a text from Jason popped up. *While I’m away on this trip, book the hotel for the wedding. When I get back from Switzerland, I’ll officially announce our relationship at the celebration dinner.* Even now, he was absolutely certain I wouldn’t leave. Convinced that no matter how much he trampled my dignity, I’d keep orbiting him like a loyal dog. But he was wrong. I didn’t bother replying. I blocked his number and started packing my things. That evening, Leon drove me to the apartment building. After confirming multiple times that I didn’t need help, he drove away. The apartment sat in the most prime location in Manhattan. Jason had bought it after his first big payday as an entrepreneur. As a gesture of his love, the deed was in my name alone. Memories flooded in like a tide as I packed. The kitchen dishes—we’d picked them out together, jostling through a crowded flea market. The oil painting in the living room—a master’s original he’d bid on during a business trip to Tokyo, just because I’d once mentioned in passing that I liked it. Those clay figurines on the TV stand—we’d spent an entire afternoon at a pottery studio making them for our anniversary. I threw them all in the trash. Every last ounce of love I’d ever felt for Jason, discarded along with them. Two days. That was how long it took to completely empty the apartment. Jason’s belongings filled two oversized storage bins. I scheduled a DPD same-day delivery, with the shipping address set to his office. When it was done, I sat on the living room sofa. Outside the window, the lake shimmered in the fading light. Inside, the only traces left were the faint impressions on the carpet where furniture used to stand. A shame. But not worth mourning. I scrolled through my phone contacts and called the city’s largest real estate agency. I listed the apartment for sale.

The location was so prime that the agent called back almost immediately—a buyer was ready to purchase. On the way to sign the agreement, my phone rang. An unmarked number. I answered. “Wendy! Blocking all my contacts is one thing, but packing up every single one of my personal belongings and shipping them to my office! What the hell are you trying to do?!” “All I did was give the project to Alice! Is that really worth losing your mind over?!” “Does bullying a new hire make you feel superior? Does it make you feel important?!” “If you can’t even show that much generosity, I think we need to seriously reconsider this marriage!” First he’d used breakups to threaten me. Now he was using marriage as leverage. He was simply used to my compliance—certain that I’d never marry anyone but him. My voice was ice. “I’ve officially resigned. Who you give that project to is none of my business.” “And as for marriage—you don’t need to reconsider. It’s off the table.” Jason’s voice turned sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before I could respond, a saccharine female voice drifted through from his end: “I forgot to grab a towel… Could you maybe… bring one in for me?” Then came the grating screech of a chair scraping against the floor. “Something just came up on my end. We’ll talk about the marriage when I’m back in the country—” I hung up before he could finish, blocked the number, and dropped the phone in my lap. It buzzed a moment later. A text from Leon. *What time will you be done? I made dinner. I’ll be waiting for you at home.* The word *home* dispelled the chill in my chest instantly. After replying to Leon, the taxi pulled to a smooth stop at its destination. The buyer was decisive. After thoroughly reviewing the property title, he signed the purchase agreement on the spot and wired the full amount. “Ms. Wendy, pleasure doing business. I’ll see you at the title office tomorrow.” “See you tomorrow.” Leon’s steak was perfectly seared—tender, paired with rum sauce, rich and savory. I set down my knife and absent-mindedly tapped into my former company’s group chat on my phone. My offboarding paperwork was still being finalized, so I hadn’t been removed yet. An employee on annual leave had been vacationing in the Alps. While staying at a luxury hotel at the base of the mountains, she’d bumped into Jason and Alice. She’d snapped a photo of the two of them together and accidentally posted it to the main work group. Though she deleted it within seconds, the image had already been screenshotted and saved by countless employees. In the photo, Alice wore a striking red puffer jacket, beaming against the snowy mountain backdrop. Jason stood a few steps behind her in a tailored overcoat, his gaze fixed on the young woman—tender, devoted, as if she were his entire world. The last time he’d looked at me that way was years ago. Jason quickly posted a clarification in the group: *The photo is misleading due to the angle. After this business trip wrapped up, I took a subordinate along to unwind as a team-building gesture. Please don’t spread malicious rumors—it could seriously damage a new employee’s professional reputation.* I found it deeply ironic. Years ago, when a colleague spotted me getting into his car late at night, rumors spread through the company that I’d slept my way to Business Director. He wouldn’t offer a single word in my defense. But for Alice, he rushed to explain, terrified she might suffer even the slightest grievance. I closed the app without expression and accepted the glass of warm milk Leon handed me before bed. — At that moment, in the luxury hotel suite in Switzerland. Jason stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at his phone with furrowed brows. In the past, the moment Wendy saw a photo like this, she would have called him in a frenzy, demanding answers. Had she not seen it? Or… had she truly stopped caring? The thought, combined with Wendy’s uncharacteristic coldness these past few days, sent a sharp stab through his chest. But he quickly talked himself down. Impossible. Wendy had loved him for eight years. Loved him more than her own life. She was just putting on a cold front, waiting for him to come groveling. … The next morning, Leon drove me to the title office. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” He undid his seatbelt and turned to me, his voice gentle. I smiled. “It’s just signing a few documents. I can handle it. Go on to your meeting.” “All right. Call me if you need anything.” I stepped out, watched Leon’s car disappear into traffic, then turned and walked toward the lobby.

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The Moretti family had a rule written in blood. Any man who betrayed his wife and children would kneel before the statue of the Blessed Mother and face the judgment of the family. In the third year of my marriage to Bradley Moretti, he knelt on the freezing marble floor of the chapel beneath the old estate, looked me in the eye, and asked for a divorce. All because his first love—the woman who had been missing for three years—had come back. His hand never trembled as he slid the divorce papers across the table. “Wallis, Zora was destroyed because of me,” he said evenly. “I already owe her more than I can ever repay.” I tightened my arms around our daughter. Anne was only a month old. She was so tiny, so impossibly fragile, that even her softest cries made my heart ache. “What about Anne?” I asked. Bradley said nothing. The silence stretched long enough for the chapel candles to burn noticeably lower. At last, he looked away. “Zora can’t have children anymore. She can’t bear to look at mine.” I stared at him, and the man before me suddenly felt like a stranger. He continued, “Anne will be removed from the Moretti family trust. She’ll have no inheritance rights. I’ll find a safe family to take her in, and I’ll make sure she’s provided for throughout her life.” In that moment, I remembered the first time we met. It had been a winter night in New York. Outside a crumbling theater in Brooklyn, he had stepped between me and a drunk, tucked his bloodied hand into his coat pocket, and said quietly, “Don’t be afraid, Miss Finn. Not all Morettis are monsters.” I had believed him. His mask had simply been more convincing than the others’. I slipped the divorce papers into the inside pocket of my coat. “Fine.” Everyone in the chapel went still. Bradley looked up sharply, as if he had misheard me. I held Anne close and made sure there was no mistaking my words. “I’ll sign. But Anne comes with me.” “From this moment on, my daughter and I have nothing to do with the Moretti family.” “Not anymore.”

Bradley’s mother, Eden Moretti, was the first to react. She rushed toward me and seized my wrist. “Wallis, no man in this family is allowed to treat his wife this way. Bradley may have lost his mind, but the rest of us haven’t.” Bradley’s father, Eric, sat at the head of the long table. The old man controlled half the docks, casinos, and underground shipping routes on the East Coast. His face had gone ashen, his expression hard as stone. “You’re throwing away your wife and newborn daughter for another woman?” He looked at his son as if he were staring at a traitor. “Bradley, do you even understand what you’re saying?” Bradley remained on his knees, his back rigid. He had removed his black suit jacket, and his white dress shirt clung to him. A dark patch of sweat spread slowly across his back. “I do.” “But Zora was taken because of me. Everything she suffered during those three years is on me.” The uncles, advisers, and lawyers seated along both sides of the table said nothing. They had seen gunfights. Betrayals. Bodies disappearing beneath the Hudson. But none of them had ever seen the Moretti heir kneel in the family chapel and ask to abandon his wife and child. An elderly family adviser finally spoke. “Bradley, the Moretti name survived a hundred years. It wasn’t built for you to drag it through the mud.” “If you insist on this divorce, you will accept the punishment that comes with it.” Bradley lowered his eyes. “I accept.” Eric rose slowly. “Bring the whip.” Eden went white. “Eric!” “If he wants to break the family code, he should understand the price.” Moments later, someone brought in a black leather whip. Bradley unbuttoned his shirt and bared his back. When the first lash struck, Anne startled awake in my arms. Her cry was thin and reedy. A welt split open across Bradley’s back, and blood welled at once. His jaw tightened, but he made no sound. He remained on his knees like a martyr. How absurd. Once, he had knelt before his parents just like this and sworn he would marry no one but me. Back then, I was only a lawyer’s daughter—quiet, ordinary, and completely unconnected to a family like theirs. Everyone said he had lost his mind. But Bradley drove to my house himself and waited outside all night. He told my father, “I know what the Moretti name means. But I’ll protect her with my life.” Later, we married at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. He lifted my veil, bent down to kiss me, and whispered so softly that only I could hear, “Wallis, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.” I believed him then. Now, for another woman, he would rather let his back be flayed to ribbons than keep his wife and daughter in his life. After the hundredth lash, Eric threw the whip to the floor. “Get out.” Bradley braced a hand against the marble and forced himself to his feet. The back of his white shirt was soaked with blood. Snow was falling outside. He walked to the center of the estate courtyard and dropped to his knees again. His face was deathly pale, but his answer did not change. “Even if I die here, I still want the divorce.” I watched him until the pain in my chest finally gave way to numbness. Just the day before, we had held Anne’s baptism. The Morettis had brought in a priest and invited half of New York’s high society. That was when Zora Rossi appeared. She stood in the cathedral doorway wearing a threadbare gray coat, her face gaunt and pale. In a voice as faint as a ghost’s, she called his name. “Bradley.” That single word was enough. Bradley Moretti—always composed, always in control—dropped the glass in his hand. It shattered at his feet. He shoved through the crowd, nearly stumbling in his rush to reach her, then pulled her into his arms. I had never seen him lose control like that. His eyes were bloodshot. His voice cracked as he repeated the same words over and over. “I’m sorry, Zora.” “It was my fault. I never should have left you there alone. I never should have said those things.” “I did this to you.” The entire cathedral fell silent. Everyone watched their tragic reunion unfold. His friends murmured among themselves. “Bradley still loves her.” “She’s finally back.” I stood outside the circle with Anne in my arms, as if I were the one who did not belong. Even then, I kept telling myself it was all right. It was only guilt. I was the woman he loved now. We had Anne. Our family would not fall apart. Then, that night, he came into my room. He stood there in silence for a long time before finally speaking. “Wallis, I want a divorce.” “I’m sorry. Zora was taken because of me. She suffered more than you can imagine, and now she can never have children.” “I owe her more than I can ever repay. I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.” The words struck me like lightning. “A divorce? What about Anne? What happens to our daughter?” He looked away. “Zora can’t stand the thought of me having a child.” “I’ll send Anne away.” I beat my fists against his chest, sobbing and demanding to know how he could be so heartless. He did not stop me. He did not defend himself. And he never withdrew his decision. By the time dawn broke, I had nothing left. So I said yes.

Between the lashing and the blizzard, Bradley collapsed in the courtyard. His men rushed to carry him inside and sent for the family doctor. I stood in the corridor, watching shadows move behind the door and listening to Eden’s muffled sobs. All I felt was cold. Back in my room, I began to pack. In three years of marriage, Bradley had given me more jewelry, gowns, paintings, and limited-edition handbags than I could count. Now they stood in neat rows, nothing more than evidence that he had once loved me. I packed only a few changes of clothes and Anne’s necessities. Footsteps sounded outside the door. Bradley entered, supported by two of his men. His face was ashen. The wounds on his back had been treated, but he was still too weak to stand on his own. “Wallis, I’m the one who wronged you.” He swallowed before continuing. “The public will know the divorce was my fault. I’ll tell the press it was amicable. I won’t let anyone think I abandoned you, and I’ll do everything I can to protect your reputation.” He paused. “You’re young. You’re intelligent. None of this was your fault. You still have your whole life ahead of you.” “And I’ll compensate you generously.” I gave him a cold smile. His remorse looked so sincere that anyone else might have believed he was acting in my best interest. A quiet laugh escaped me. “Spare me the performance, Bradley.” He blinked. I walked up to the man I had once loved more than anyone in the world. “This isn’t about protecting me. You just want to stop feeling guilty before you marry Zora.” “You say you can’t lose her again. Then what was I to you for the past three years?” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Some things can’t be fixed, Wallis,” he finally said. “Not everyone gets a happy ending.” I studied him in silence. This was the man I had once trusted with my life, now dressing up his cruelty as tragedy. “So Anne and I together still matter less than your regret.” My own calm frightened me. He flinched, but his answer remained the same. “I’m sorry.” I turned away, but my mind dragged me back to an old photograph. Zora stood on a training field in a white tank top, smiling wide and bright. I had knocked a manila envelope to the floor by accident. Bradley had lost his temper with me—one of the only times he ever had. He pushed me aside and bent to retrieve the photograph, handling it with the care of a man recovering a sacred relic. Later, he threw it into the fireplace in front of me, pulled me into his arms, and said, “From now on, you’re the only woman in my heart.” I believed him. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. But perhaps the ending had been written from the beginning. Some feelings never die. They only wait for the right name to bring them back.

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