My son’s gold-digging girlfriend immediately took all our family’s assets the moment I was diagnosed with cancer. She declared it was all her wedding settlement, and even if I died on the streets, I wouldn’t get a single penny of her money. Ultimately, she caused me to miss the best treatment window, and my condition worsened. With only a short time left, I pulled her with me as I jumped from the building. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the first time I met that gold-digging girlfriend. I could even hear her thoughts. Only then did I realize, she wasn’t the gold-digger after all. “Danny said Auntie wouldn’t even glance at anything under a seven-thousand-dollar necklace, but the one I bought was only twelve hundred. Still, that was all the money I saved from my entire semester of work-study. I gave it to him days ago, why isn’t she wearing it? Guess she really does look down on my stuff.” Chloe’s voice drifted into my ears, fragmented and uncertain. I opened my eyes and saw the familiar scene of my home, realizing I had been reborn. And I was back at the moment my son, Daniel, first brought his girlfriend, Chloe, to meet me. In my previous life, this supposedly gold-digging young woman, even before marrying Daniel, had a tight grip on his salary. She then used the excuse that a two-hundred-thousand-dollar wedding settlement was customary in her hometown, forcing us to sell everything we owned to gather the money for her. By the time I was diagnosed with cancer, there was no money left for treatment. I tried to discuss with her the possibility of returning a portion of the settlement for my treatment, promising to repay it later. But she flat-out refused, and even told Daniel: “All your family’s money is my wedding settlement. Your mother’s old life isn’t worth saving; even if she dies on the street, she won’t get a single penny of my money.” Her stubborn refusal to contribute led me to miss my treatment window, dragging my early-stage cancer all the way to terminal. Watching my remaining days dwindle, I was consumed by grief and rage. When she came to visit me, I grabbed her and jumped off the building. But I never expected to be reborn. In a daze, I heard her speaking—something about a gold necklace. What did that mean? I looked up at Chloe, who sat across from me, looking slightly nervous. That voice spoke again: “Auntie’s staring at me so seriously, is she unhappy with me? I shouldn’t have listened to Danny, telling me it would be awkward to give it to Auntie in person, insisting I give it to him early. I should have known to ask my parents for more money to get a bigger one. Auntie probably thinks I don’t care enough about her now.” Chloe’s lips weren’t moving, yet the voice flowed continuously. Could it be her thoughts? But when had she ever given me a gold necklace? In my previous life, she started trying to intimidate me a month before we even met. She said she wouldn’t eat fruit unless it was over fifty dollars a pound, wouldn’t eat meals from anything less than a five-star restaurant. Even the slippers she wore into our house had to be limited-edition, celebrity-endorsed. And when she left, I had to give her a large cash gift. As for her, she never spent a dime, not once. Even the gift she gave me was just a free sample from the supermarket. As I pondered this, Chloe glanced at Daniel, then suddenly stood up to go to the bathroom. Once she was in the bathroom, Daniel urgently pulled me aside: “Mom, why are you just sitting there since she arrived? Aren’t you going to give her a welcome gift? Chloe’s already upset.” “And the fruit, the food… it’s not what Chloe asked for, is it? Aren’t you obviously trying to put her in her place?” I was stunned. Daniel had said the exact same thing in my previous life. Back then, I’d immediately thought Chloe was too materialistic, not a good girl. That led to me having a strong prejudice against her later on. But judging by Chloe’s thoughts just now, it seemed she hadn’t meant any of that.

I looked at Daniel suspiciously for a few moments; I was starting to doubt him too. In my last life, this boy was too weak, his heart solely devoted to his girlfriend. When I failed to get the money and considered suing, he repeatedly stopped me, saying not to make things too tense, that they still had to live their lives together, and he would handle it. But when I lay in my hospital bed, waiting for my condition to worsen, his solution never came. This time, I couldn’t trust this ungrateful jerk one hundred percent. My face darkened, and I snapped, “What do you mean ‘put her in her place’? Am I putting her in her place just because I’m not treating her like a princess? I prepared gifts and cash, and she gave me a free toothbrush from the supermarket. It seems she’s the one who looks down on our family.” “I’m telling you now, even if you marry her, I won’t acknowledge it.” Daniel hadn’t expected my sudden outburst and jumped in surprise. He quickly pulled me, urging me to keep my voice down: “Mom, I told you, Chloe’s family isn’t well-off, she’s been through a lot. Now we should make sure she lives comfortably. Just try to accommodate her more, please don’t say those things again. What if she hears you?” The moment he finished speaking, Chloe returned. She looked at the slightly tense atmosphere between Daniel and me, startled. That thought-voice started again: “Didn’t I just give Danny a look to tell him to cheer Auntie up? How did he manage to make her even angrier?” Watching her sit down awkwardly, my suspicion grew. I cleared my throat and said, “Chloe, you’re still a student. Auntie doesn’t need you to buy any gifts. Just coming to visit is enough to make me happy.” Chloe looked puzzled, and her thoughts chimed in again: “What does she mean ‘didn’t buy any gifts’? Didn’t I give that gold necklace to Danny for her? Even if she dislikes it, she can’t say I didn’t buy anything, right?” I subtly glanced at Daniel, then pulled out a few toothbrushes from under the coffee table and tossed them onto its surface: “Daniel said you were so thoughtful, you specifically got me these free samples from the supermarket.” Chloe jumped, quickly turning to look at Daniel: “When did I ever give Auntie toothbrushes? Where’s the gold necklace? Didn’t you give it to her?”

Daniel’s face stiffened, but he quickly regained his composure. He calmly pulled a gold necklace from his bag, chuckling, “Oh, I forgot to give it to her. It’s better this way, you can give it to Mom yourself, it feels more ceremonial, doesn’t it?” Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. As she busied herself putting the necklace on me, her thoughts started again: “Danny is so careless, he actually forgot about this. Good thing Auntie asked, otherwise, what kind of person would I have looked like?” I frowned. Chloe in this life didn’t match the one from my previous life either. Could it be that she had prepared the gold necklace in my last life too, but because Daniel forgot, and I didn’t feel right asking for a gift on our first meeting, it created a misunderstanding? Then why didn’t Daniel ever give me the gold necklace later? Something else must have happened in between. And later, she still held onto our family’s assets, which led to my tragic death. I definitely need to investigate this thoroughly. Once the necklace was on, Chloe took my hand, smiling brightly as she admired it: “Auntie, gold really suits you, it matches your elegant demeanor beautifully.” I lowered my gaze to the necklace, a strange mix of emotions swirling in my heart. In my previous life, because our first impression of each other was so terrible, Chloe and I had very little contact afterward. I never knew she could say such sweet things. Chloe then turned to playfully scold Daniel: “When will you ever take my matters seriously? Last time I bought skincare products, I got a set for Auntie and asked you to deliver it to her. But you completely forgot and ended up using it yourself. Now you even forgot something as important as this?” I remembered the skincare incident very clearly. A month ago, I accidentally appeared in Daniel’s FaceTime call with Chloe. I was applying face cream at the time. Chloe saw the brand of cream I was using and chatted with me about it for a few minutes. But as soon as Daniel hung up, he claimed Chloe was angry. Because the face cream I used was apparently more expensive than hers. Daniel said, “Chloe thinks you’re too old to be using such expensive brands; you should save that money for your future grandson. Just stick to drugstore brands, she said.” At the time, my blood boiled. I immediately told Daniel that this girlfriend wasn’t suitable. Now, it seemed many things weren’t as I had understood them. Daniel nervously glanced at me, then wrapped an arm around Chloe, maintaining his playful grin: “I know I messed up, babe. Next time, I’ll make sure your and Mom’s matters are my top priority.” My heart sank deeper and deeper. All those things I’d once believed Chloe had done to me, she seemed completely unaware of them. Then what about taking all our family’s assets? Could that have had nothing to do with her either? Filled with questions, I finished dinner. Daniel drove Chloe back to school, and I immediately booked a full body check-up at the hospital. The doctor pointed to my test results and told me that a tiny lesion had been found in my stomach. A biopsy confirmed it was stomach cancer. However, thankfully, I had caught it in time. It was in a very early stage, with a very high cure rate. They just needed to surgically remove the affected stomach tissue and booked me for an operation. I sighed in relief; thankfully, I’d made it in time this life. On the way home, my steps felt lighter than air. When I arrived, I found Daniel back home, sitting on the couch with his head down, looking glum. The moment he saw me, he put on a tearful face and said, “Mom, Chloe said she wants a two-hundred-thousand-dollar wedding settlement. What do we do?”

Daniel wiped away a tear: “Chloe said families where she’s from absolutely have to have wedding settlements worth hundreds of thousands, and two hundred thousand is the absolute minimum. If I can’t come up with two hundred thousand, she’ll break up with me.” He grabbed my hand, speaking earnestly: “Mom, I just love her and want to marry her. Please, help me figure something out. Later, when I make big money, I’ll take good care of you. Forget two hundred thousand, I’ll give you even more!” I silently watched him: “First, explain to me what Chloe said about the skincare products.” Daniel’s eyes darted around: “I saw you still had plenty of your own skincare left, so I figured you wouldn’t need Chloe’s for a while. Plus, you used to give me your extras, right? So this time, I just took the liberty of using it.” “I just forgot to tell you, that’s all.” Daniel looked at me displeased: “Why are you being so nitpicky with your own son?” “Then why did you tell me she thought I only deserved to use drugstore brands?” Daniel started to act like a spoiled child: “That was just me misunderstanding her meaning by accident. I’ll be more careful in the future, just forgive me this once.” “Right now, the urgent thing is Chloe’s two-hundred-thousand-dollar wedding settlement. Mom, I’m your only son, you have to help me figure this out.” I wasn’t satisfied with Daniel’s explanation. He’d been a sly one since he was a kid; how could he possibly misunderstand something so simple? Was he up to something behind my back? And did Chloe know? So, I went along with his words: “Why don’t you invite Chloe over for dinner again sometime? I want to evaluate her character. If she passes, forget two hundred thousand, I’ll sell everything we own to get you even three hundred thousand for the settlement.” Daniel’s eyes lit up, but then he worriedly cautioned me: “When Chloe comes, you absolutely mustn’t bring up the settlement. She’s already unhappy, I’m afraid she’ll get even angrier, and what if the wedding gets called off?” I gave him a cool look. It was probably less about not wanting Chloe to worry, and more about him being afraid I’d question her. Daniel acted quickly, bringing Chloe back the very next day. But her expression didn’t look very good. She seemed rather distant even towards my hospitality.

Just as I was wondering why, Chloe’s thoughts chimed in: “Danny did say his mom was snobbish, but I never expected her to demand a two-hundred-thousand-dollar dowry from my family, saying anything less wouldn’t even let me through their door.” “Where am I supposed to get that much money? Is this a marriage or a business deal?” “Every time I meet Auntie, she seems quite nice, but I never thought she’d do such despicable things behind my back.” My heart sank abruptly. I had never mentioned anything about a dowry. Clearly, this was Daniel’s doing. Taking two hundred thousand from me, and then another two hundred thousand from Chloe. What exactly was Daniel trying to do? Connecting Daniel’s and Chloe’s contradictory stories. My mind reeled. Could it be that in my previous life, the one who held onto the two hundred thousand wasn’t Chloe at all, but my own son? No wonder he was so afraid of me questioning Chloe. But I had raised him since he was small; why would he do something like this? Why wouldn’t he even save me? I suppressed the discomfort in my heart, motioned for Chloe to sit down, and then sent Daniel to the kitchen to serve the food. Once he was in the kitchen, I pulled out my phone and, right in front of Chloe, transferred ten thousand dollars to Daniel. Then I sent him a voice message: “Son, take this money and buy Chloe some clothes. Girls these days love to dress up, especially a pretty girl like Chloe. Tell her not to be shy about spending it.” Chloe watched my actions, a flash of mockery in her eyes, as if she thought I was just putting on a show. Without time to explain, I quickly left, pretending to go to the bathroom. When I returned, I saw Chloe’s expression had changed. She was staring intently at Daniel, and her thoughts spoke again: “Why did Danny say Auntie thinks my clothes are shabby and that I should wear something different next time? Auntie clearly didn’t mean that just now.” “And Auntie also gave ten thousand dollars; why didn’t he mention it at all? What exactly is he up to?” I broke her train of thought: “Chloe, I invited you here today because I want to talk about the dowry.” Chloe seemed to finally realize something was wrong and snapped her head up to meet my gaze. In Chloe’s eyes, I saw shock, suspicion, and disbelief. She must have just started to doubt Daniel.

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One cold winter day, I found myself plastered all over the hospital’s internal forum, thanks to a seemingly sweet but cunning intern. She claimed that as the top cardiac surgeon, I was outrageously greedy for taking a hundred-thousand-dollar kickback all by myself. But they didn’t know that this six-figure sum was the annual performance bonus for all the ultra-high-risk surgeries in the hospital — surgeries only I was capable of performing. The entire hospital was tearing me apart online. So, I decided to give them what they wanted and submitted an official request: 【To foster unity within the department, I voluntarily transfer all high-difficulty surgical procedures to other qualified doctors.】 As soon as the announcement went out, the entire hospital almost ground to a halt. The senior attending physicians were practically camping outside my office, begging me to reconsider. … I’d just finished a twelve-hour aortic dissection repair when my assistant, Chloe, handed me her phone. The hospital’s internal forum had a trending post pinned to the top: 【Spilling the Tea on Dr. Aria Reed from Cardiac Surgery: A hundred-thousand-dollar kickback? How outrageously greedy is that?!】 The post was from an anonymous ID, but the profile picture was a pink bunny. I recognized it – it was Serena, the new intern’s, SnapChat profile pic. The post itself was simple: a blurred screenshot of a bonus breakdown, clearly showing my name and the “$100,000.00” figure next to it. The accompanying caption was dripping with sarcasm: 【Unbelievable, they actually just hand out cash like this. Dr. Reed alone got a hundred grand, while us junior doctors and nurses work our butts off for a few hundred bucks. Heh, my poverty really limits my imagination.】 She conveniently failed to mention that this hundred thousand dollars was the annual performance bonus for all the Tier 4 procedures performed that year. And in the entire Cardiac Surgery department—no, in the entire hospital—I was the only one who could independently perform ultra-high-difficulty Tier 4 procedures like Type A aortic dissections or giant ventricular aneurysm resections. The comment section had already blown up. 【OMG! A hundred thousand! Why doesn’t she just rob a bank?!】 【We in the ER work like dogs every day, and our year-end bonus isn’t even a fraction of hers. How is that fair?!】 【Figures she’s the best surgeon; she’s also the best at raking in money.】 I scrolled through the screen, expressionless, feeling like the life I’d just saved might not have been so worth it after all. Back in my office, everyone in the department was looking at me strangely. A few nurses who usually clustered together for gossip immediately fell silent and scattered when I walked in, their faces still betraying a mix of disdain and jealousy. My mentor, Dr. Arthur Jenkins, called me into his office, sighing. “Aria, how do you plan to handle this?” “Dr. Jenkins, you know, that wasn’t a kickback.” He nodded, then shook his head. “I know, but others don’t. You can’t silence a thousand voices.” I understood what he meant. He wanted me to back down, refund part of the money, and appease the angry crowd. Just as I was about to speak, there was a knock on the office door. Dr. Brandon Hayes, the Associate Chief of Cardiac Surgery, walked in, leading Serena. Brandon was a few years older than me and always prided himself on being my senior, but I always outshone him technically. Seeing me collect awards left and right, his jealousy was practically radiating off him. As soon as he entered, he adopted a peacemaker’s stance. “Dr. Jenkins, Dr. Reed, Serena here is young and naive. I brought her to apologize to Dr. Reed.” He said, giving Serena a nudge. Serena’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she gave a shallow bow, her voice trembling with a feigned cry. “Dr. Reed, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just… just so shocked by that number. It felt unfair, and I just wanted to ask for everyone. I had no ill intentions.” Her endless ‘I didn’t mean to’ and ‘for everyone’s sake’ apologies. That apology cut deeper than any insult. 2 Brandon seized the moment, his tone full of profound earnestness. “Aria, you see, Serena was thinking about departmental unity. And this whole thing, it’s not entirely her fault. The main issue is the bonus allocation plan itself; it’s prone to misunderstandings.” He looked at me, a flicker of undetectable triumph in his eyes. “How about this? You take out a portion of that money, treat the whole department to dinner, foster some team spirit. Then we can just let this whole thing go. Young people, you know, we should be more accommodating.” He spoke as if I had taken money I wasn’t entitled to and now needed to pay my way out of trouble. I watched their perfectly coordinated performance, a cold sneer on my face. “Dr. Hayes is right. My perspective wasn’t broad enough; I was too focused on surgeries and didn’t consider everyone’s feelings.” Brandon thought I was backing down, and his smile widened. Serena also lowered her head, her shoulders subtly shaking, feigning remorse and victimhood. I ignored them both and turned to Dr. Jenkins. “Dr. Jenkins, the root cause of this issue is that my skills have become a monopoly, hogging too many resources and leaving no room for other colleagues to grow.” “To foster departmental unity, and to give excellent mid-career doctors like Dr. Hayes more opportunities, I’ve decided to submit a request to the hospital administration.” I paused, watching Brandon’s face stiffen instantly, and then spoke each word clearly. “I voluntarily transfer all my scheduled Tier 4 procedures to other qualified doctors in the department. I’ll stick to routine Tier 1 and 2 surgeries.” Dr. Jenkins shot up from his chair, his face pale. “Aria! What nonsense is this?!” Brandon’s face instantly went ashen. He might have imagined countless ways to needle me, but he never expected that I would simply throw the entire package, risks and all, of this highly coveted “cash cow” right at him. Tier 4 procedures represent the highest level of expertise in the field, and also the highest risk. Success means accolades and bonuses. Failure means lawsuits and a ruined career. He had the audacity to be jealous, but did he have the competence to take it on? I didn’t give him a chance to react. Walking out of the office, I paused by Serena and whispered softly. “Congratulations. You’ve fought for the ‘fairness’ everyone wanted.” Serena’s face instantly drained of all color. My request report exploded like a bombshell, sending shockwaves through the hospital’s administration. Dr. Davies, the Dean, personally called me, his voice unprecedentedly stern. “Aria, who are you trying to spite? Do you know what submitting this report means?” “Dean, I’m not trying to spite anyone.” My voice was calm. “I’m just responding to the public’s demands. I don’t want to jeopardize the hospital’s unity over bonus issues anymore.” The Dean fell silent on the other end. He knew better than anyone that the most advanced equipment and specialized ORs in Cardiac Surgery were practically reserved for me. He knew how many VIP patients, from high-profile figures to those with incredibly complex conditions, specifically requested me as their lead surgeon each year, generating immense revenue and reputation for the hospital. Now that I was saying I wouldn’t do it, he, the Dean, would be the first to lose his seat. “Just calm down for a bit. I’ll hold onto your report for now. I’ll have our IT department handle the forum issue.” “No need, Dean,” I interrupted him. “Since everyone feels my presence disrupts fairness, I’ll take a step back. I believe the hospital can function perfectly well without me.” I hung up the phone. Not long after, Chloe rushed in, looking frantic. “Dr. Reed, it’s bad! The forum’s blown up again!” 3 I clicked on it. A new post had shot to the top. 【Internal Scoop! Dr. Aria Reed allegedly threatening to strike due to bonus distribution dispute!】 The poster was still anonymous, but the tone was even more inflammatory. 【Wielding her skills like a weapon, threatening the hospital’s very operations – is this a compassionate healer or just plain insatiable greed?!】 One comment below was highly upvoted, from Dr. Brandon Hayes’ burner account, I recognized it. 【I always heard she had a temper, but this shows such a lack of perspective. The OR isn’t her personal show; the world keeps turning without her.】 Serena even jumped in with her main account, posting a seemingly objective, but clearly pot-stirring message. 【As an intern, I’ve seen前辈s work tirelessly for patients, and I’ve also observed some imperfections in our system. I firmly believe our hospital is a caring community, and personal emotions should never take precedence over a patient’s life. I hope certain attendings can calm down and avoid doing anything that disheartens everyone.】 She positioned herself as a concerned ‘whistleblower.’ I actually laughed. It was infuriating. Just then, the ER phone rang. Nurse Davis’s voice was frantic and urgent. “Dr. Reed! The ambulance just brought in a critically injured patient – suspected Marfan syndrome with acute Type A aortic dissection rupture! The patient is already in shock! You need to get here now!” Type A aortic dissection rupture. The mortality rate climbs by the hour, and the surgery is the pinnacle of cardiac surgery. I grabbed my white coat and sprinted out. But as I reached the ER triage desk, a middle-aged woman blocked my way. She was the patient’s wife, her eyes bloodshot, her face filled with alarm and suspicion. She clutched her phone, the screen displaying that forum post, the one putting me on blast. “You’re Aria Reed?” She scrutinized me, her gaze full of distrust. “Are you the doctor who threatened to strike because of money?” Her voice was low, but it felt like a hammer striking my heart. The patient’s family’s suspicion drenched me from head to toe like a bucket of ice water. My fighting spirit, which I’d just mustered, shattered instantly. I looked at her, then at the patient in the trauma bay behind her, his life rapidly fading, and felt a wave of absurdity wash over me. I wanted to explain, but I knew that in the face of inflamed emotions, any explanation would be futile. “I’m not on strike.” The woman clearly didn’t believe me. She stepped back, looking at me like I was a monster. “I don’t care if you are or not! My husband’s life cannot be entrusted to an unethical doctor like you!” She yelled excitedly, “I want another doctor! Don’t you have other specialists in this hospital?” Dr. Miller, the ER Director, rushed over, his face turning green at her words. “Ma’am, please calm down! Dr. Reed is the only one in our hospital who can perform this surgery! Any more delays, and not even a miracle worker could save him!” “I don’t care! I want a different surgeon!” the woman shrieked stubbornly. Just then, Brandon and Serena also arrived. Brandon’s eyes flashed with a hint of pleasure at the scene, but he quickly replaced it with an expression of profound regret. He walked up to the patient’s wife and gently tried to soothe her, “Ma’am, please don’t get agitated. We understand your feelings, but saving the patient is critical right now. Dr. Reed’s skills are still trustworthy…” His words seemed to be defending me, but in reality, they cemented my image as “lacking in professional ethics.” Serena, ever so ‘understanding,’ handed the woman a cup of hot water and said, “Auntie, don’t worry. Or, we could ask Dr. Hayes; he’s also a very capable specialist in our department.” Her single sentence immediately gave the patient’s wife new hope. The woman instantly grabbed Brandon’s hand, as if clutching a lifeline. “Doctor, then you do my husband’s surgery! I trust you!” Brandon demurred, “This… this goes against protocol. Dr. Reed is the lead surgeon…” But his eyes kept darting toward me, full of provocation. Dr. Davies, the Dean, and Dr. Jenkins, the senior attending, also received the news and rushed over, practically in a panic. Seeing the tense standoff, the Dean looked completely overwhelmed. He pulled me aside, lowered his voice, almost pleading. “Aria, I’m begging you. Lives are on the line! Just take a step back, apologize to the family, and calm them down!” 4 Apologize? What was I apologizing for? For the bonus I earned with my skills? Or for the scalpel in my hand that could save lives? I looked at the Dean’s flustered face, at Brandon’s smug smirk, at Serena’s seemingly innocent yet malicious eyes. Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired. Then, I calmly told the Dean, “Dean, since both the patient’s family and my colleagues trust Dr. Hayes so much, then let him be the lead surgeon. As for my transfer request, please approve it as soon as possible.” With that, I didn’t look at anyone else, turning and walking towards my office. Behind me, I heard Dr. Jenkins’ furious roar, “Aria! Are you staging a revolt?!” And then the Dean’s helpless compromise: “…Alright, Brandon, you’re the lead surgeon. Aria, you provide guidance!” I didn’t look back. Guidance? A Grandmaster guiding a Bronze player? I doubted he’d understand. I locked myself in my office. Even through the door, I could sense the controlled chaos in the hallway outside. Nurses hurried past, equipment carts rattled, and Brandon’s theatrical booming voice commanded everyone, playing the role of the savior. Chloe knocked and came in, her eyes red. “Dr. Reed, are you really not going to do anything? The patient… he’s in really bad shape.” I leaned back in my chair, eyes closed, not speaking. My phone vibrated. It was a text from an unknown number. 【Dr. Reed, I’m the patient’s daughter. My mom is a bit emotional, but we looked up your credentials. We trust you. Please, save my dad.】 My heart trembled. But what could I do? The surgery had been taken over by Brandon. If I rushed in now, would I be proving he was incompetent, or stealing his glory? In the eyes of those whose minds were already clouded by prejudice, anything I did would be wrong. I picked up the unapproved report on my desk and signed my name on it. Time ticked by. One hour. Two hours. Suddenly, the office door burst open. Dr. Jenkins stormed in, his face ghostly pale, his lips trembling. “Aria! Something’s gone wrong!” My heart sank, and I stood up. “Brandon… he can’t find the rupture! He can’t dissect the vessels of the aortic arch, and now there’s massive bleeding! The patient’s blood pressure is unmeasurable!” I’d anticipated this. The most critical and perilous step in Type A aortic dissection surgery is reconstructing the three branches of the aortic arch under deep hypothermic circulatory arrest. The vessels there are delicate as a spider’s web, with an incredibly complex structure. One wrong move could mean irreversible disaster. Brandon’s skills simply weren’t at that level. “They need you to step in now!” Dr. Jenkins grabbed my arm, his hand shaking uncontrollably. “Hurry! Any later and it’ll be too late!” I looked at him and slowly asked, “Dr. Jenkins, if I go in now, what will that make me?” “Am I saving a life, or am I cleaning up Brandon’s mess?” “If I save him, the credit will be his, because he was the ‘lead surgeon’ and I merely ‘guided’ effectively. If the patient dies, the blame will be mine, because I ‘intervened’ at a critical moment and disrupted his rhythm.” “Either way, he’d come out smelling like roses. And me?” Dr. Jenkins froze. He opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. He was right. He wanted me to go, but what guarantee could he give me? Just then, my phone started ringing frantically. It was the Dean. I put it on speaker. On the other end, the Dean’s voice was choked with tears, the background filled with the sharp alarms of the monitors and the panicked shouts of nurses. “Aria! For God’s sake! I’m begging you! Please come now! The patient is fading! Brandon is completely panicked!” 5 I looked at the signed report on my desk and calmly said into the phone. “Dean, I have formally submitted my request to transfer Tier 4 procedures. According to protocol, Dr. Hayes is now the sole person in charge of this surgery.”

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I’m Skylar, the most renowned medium in this region, known for helping souls lost to water find peace. One day, a tycoon walked in, demanding I retrieve his fiancée’s ring. I waved him off, “Find someone else. She doesn’t want me to do this.” Damien Thorne, the tycoon, chuckled, pushing me slightly. “You’re turning down money? Putting on airs, are we? Just retrieve a ring, what’s the big deal?” More and more people gathered, all condemning me for being uncooperative. “Clueless idiot. You have no idea who you’re messing with! You won’t be working in this city ever again!” Seeing the rising chorus of insults, I turned and waved them away. “Go on, get out of here. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety.” The words barely left my lips when the crowd burst into laughter. Damien, leading the pack, snarled, grabbing my collar. “It’s just a damn ring! Why are you so difficult? Annoying!” “Worst case, something happens, I’ll take full responsibility! You don’t need to worry about it!” He claimed I didn’t need to worry, but the sudden, unexplainable chill wind that blew through me made my heart race. Because I knew, today, someone would definitely die here.

It was the days leading up to All Hallows’ Eve, when the veil between worlds thins and spirits roam freely. As the most sought-after medium in this area, I was unusually busy this month. Especially today, my head had felt heavy and clouded since morning. My intuition screamed that something was wrong. Sure enough, by evening, I received a massive offer from Damien Thorne, the CEO: five million dollars to retrieve a ring. But when I arrived at the scene, the lake felt frigid, an icy wind blowing right through me. I probed Damien. “Mr. Thorne, are you absolutely sure you only need the ring?” “Of course! Can you get it or not? Give me a straight answer, I don’t have time to waste with you.” “Retrieving the ring isn’t the problem. But anything else… that might be tricky.” I could clearly feel a resentful spirit lingering nearby, likely trapped underwater, its silent cries carrying an icy chill. Just as I tried to pinpoint the source of the sound, Mark, Damien’s assistant, grew impatient. “Seriously, are you a legitimate medium? You have zero professional courtesy! You don’t even greet Mr. Thorne, and then you ask all these weird questions? What’s wrong with you?” “Yeah, we’re all waiting to party with Mr. Thorne! If you can do it, hurry up and get to it! Don’t waste our time!” I hesitated because I feared Damien was hiding something from me. That wave of resentment was clearly directed at him. Based on my years of experience, a single glance was enough to confirm that the woman currently nestled in Damien’s arms was not his fiancée. I pointed to the diamond ring on the woman’s ring finger and asked, “Mr. Thorne, isn’t your fiancée’s ring already on her hand?” “Ha! Open your damn eyes! This is Mr. Thorne’s adopted sister! Our lady is vacationing in Australia right now, you think everyone has as much free time as you do?” “Ugh, are you going to retrieve it or not? If you can’t do it, just get lost! Do you really think we have leisure time to waste in this godforsaken place? Take a good look at yourself, you’re not even fit to breathe the same air as him!” Seeing the irritation on everyone’s faces, I sighed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want the job. But today was a particularly sensitive day. Any other time, I might have just closed one eye and retrieved it. But messing with the spirits near All Hallows’ Eve is playing with fire. One wrong move and it could cost you everything! I wasn’t about to risk a life on my watch. After all, this was crucial for my reputation, and I couldn’t afford to be careless. As I hesitated, a cold gust of wind suddenly swept past my ears, making my legs tremble. I understood. This big job today was likely out of the question. I shook my head. “Mr. Thorne, come back to me after All Hallows’ Eve.” “I’m afraid I can’t help you now.” The words had just left my mouth when I turned to leave, only to find a group of burly men blocking my path. “You’re not going anywhere until you retrieve that ring.” “My family is holding a wedding banquet the day after tomorrow. If you mess this up, I promise you won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise.” Damien said, picking up an iron rod from the ground. “I’ll give you two options: either you get the ring, and my wedding goes off without a hitch. Or, you leave those legs here as a wedding gift to me.” “Your choice.”

I glanced at my reflection in the lake, then hardened my resolve. I pulled out a simple, aged coin on a crimson thread and turned to Damien. “Mr. Thorne, do you have a picture of Miss Hayes? I’ll need it.” “Pffft! So much fuss. With your amateur skills, you dare call yourself the best medium in the country? Aren’t you afraid of getting laughed out of town?” Damien didn’t ask further. He immediately pulled a casual photo of a woman from his wallet and casually tossed it in front of me. Before I could even pick it up, the woman in his arms frowned, her voice a sugary whine. “Damien, you’re secretly keeping photos of Evelyn from me, Brittany? I’ll punish you! No saying you’re tired tonight! You have to dote on me until I’m satisfied!” “Alright, alright, anything for my little darling. I’ll make sure my greedy little kitten is well-fed.” At his words, the same people who had just been yelling at me to get out of the city suddenly understood, cheering them on. Leaving me with goosebumps all over. But the next second, when I clearly saw the face in the photo, cold sweat broke out on my back. “Your fiancée… she doesn’t seem to have a complete soul. I can’t sense any consciousness in her.” At my words, several people looked at me with disdain and mockery. “Retrieving a few bodies and you think you’re some kind of deity? Do I look like I have a complete soul to you? Just spouting superstitious mumbo-jumbo, wasting our time.” “Damien, she’s been trying to scare us with all this hocus-pocus from the start! It’s so annoying! Since she’s so convinced there’s something weird in this lake, why don’t we just throw her in and see if she’s still so stubborn!” Damien listened, and a hint of playful amusement actually crept into his stern expression. I instinctively turned to run, but just as I did, several burly men grabbed my arms, pinning me in place. They dragged me in front of Damien, and then, a burning slap landed across my face. “Open your eyes and see! Whose turf are you trespassing on! This entire city is mine, Damien Thorne’s! Where do you think you’re going to run?” Then came another two brutal slaps, leaving stinging red marks on both sides of my face. Just as my head spun, and I was about to pass out from the burning pain across my entire face, the next second, a powerful sense of suffocation flooded my chest. “You’re the city’s best medium, aren’t you? Today, I’ll make an exception and let you retrieve yourself!” They grabbed my hair and forced my head underwater. The icy cold lake water choked my windpipe, making it impossible to breathe. Rage surged through me. I suddenly ripped free from the thick arm and snapped, “Do you have any idea that trespassing on someone else’s forbidden ground will cost you your life?!” “Since good advice can’t save a doomed soul, tonight, you’re on your own! Your life or death has nothing to do with me! Just don’t come begging at my feet when things go wrong!” Laughter boomed through the forest like thunder. The male assistant, Marcus, pointed a finger at me. “How arrogant can you be? You messed with Mr. Thorne! You might just end up dead in this city tomorrow, and no one will even bother to pick up your corpse!” Seeing Damien’s contemptuous and dismissive expression, I sneered. “Oh really? I’m more worried Mr. Thorne won’t live through tonight and *I’ll* have to retrieve *his* body.”

A loud, stinging slap, mixed with cold water, struck my face. The man spit at me viciously. “You must have a death wish! Don’t you know? The last person who was this arrogant disappeared from the face of the earth!” Taunts echoed from all around, everyone’s eyes mocking me as if I were a joke. “Forget tonight, Mr. Thorne could just lift a finger right now, and you’d rot in this water, and no one would ever know!” “You’re seriously out of your league, messing with someone like Damien! You’re either crazy or have a death wish, and you clearly need to be taught a lesson!” “She even dared to curse Mrs. Thorne as a corpse! Does she even fear death? Let’s see if she’s still so sharp-tongued after spending a night soaking in this lake!” Damien walked directly up to me, grabbed the back of my neck, and shoved me back into the water. “If I don’t see that ring within an hour, you’re not going home today.” If he didn’t care about his life, I wasn’t going to stop him. I nodded. “Fine. Let me get out first. I’ll find that ring within half an hour.” Suddenly, a heavy punch landed on my head, completely blindsiding me. Damien sneered, “Who said you could come up to look for it?” “I gave you a chance earlier, and you didn’t take it! Now you’ve lost all dignity, and you’re worried about appearances?” Several burly men shoved me deeper into the water until my feet no longer touched the bottom, only half my head floating above the surface. Damien roared with laughter from the shore. “Now, get your ass down there and find it! Don’t come up for air until you do, or I’ll beat you every time I see you!” He then threw the iron rod at me. “You’ve wasted so much of my time! Did you think I was some soft touch, easy to deal with? Today’s your lesson, so next time you see me, you’ll know your place and stop making a fool of yourself!” The iron rod hit me squarely on the forehead. Already weak and exhausted from the prolonged ordeal, I was now utterly drained and couldn’t exert any strength in the water. Soon, I sank under the pressure to the bottom of the lake, where it was pitch black, and I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Thanks to my early training, I could still breathe and exhale in the deep water, but this method would only last for an hour at most. If I couldn’t get to shore within the allotted time, I might truly die here. As I was momentarily lost in thought, a murky darkness suddenly appeared before my eyes. Then, a wave forcefully pushed against my back, propelling me upwards. When I opened my eyes again, I had been washed ashore by the lake water. The crowd gathered around me, puzzled. “Skylar, where’s Mr. Thorne’s ring? You dared to come ashore without finding it? Don’t you want to live?” I coughed several times, expelling some water from my windpipe, and replied in a hoarse voice, “That ring isn’t at the bottom of the lake. It’s on Miss Hayes’s ring finger. You should tell Damien Thorne to ask her for it.” “That’s hilarious! You must be out of your mind from drowning, huh? If the ring was on Miss Hayes, why would Mr. Thorne bother wasting his time with a charlatan like you?” “If you can’t find it, just say so! Otherwise, if we *do* find the ring at the bottom of the lake, you’ll be paying with your limbs! You’ll be too late to beg for forgiveness then!” I brushed off the mud, struggled to my feet, and looked at Damien. “Miss Hayes is no longer among the living. Find an auspicious day to let her rest in peace.” “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Skylar, are you insulting my intelligence? Do you think I wouldn’t know if Evelyn Hayes were dead?” Brittany purred, trying to soothe him, “Damien, don’t listen to this bitch’s nonsense. Evelyn even posted on Ins yesterday, sharing her happiness. How could she suddenly be gone?” “She’s definitely just making up excuses, a fraud who can’t find it and just spouts nonsense. How pathetic.” After Brittany’s comforting words, Damien’s tense frown visibly eased. “You say Evelyn Hayes is dead? Where’s your proof?” “Just spouting baseless nonsense in front of me, do you know what the consequences are?” He lunged forward, grabbed my collar, and brutally threw me into the mud. “I told you, either leave the ring and you walk away, or I break a leg as an apology.” “But you not only failed to find the ring, you’ve been spouting ridiculous claims and wasting my time. This isn’t something just one leg can account for.” I stumbled back a few steps, swallowing hard. “I’m warning you, don’t mess with me.” Before I could move, two burly men in black immediately stepped forward, pinning my arms, one on each side, forcing me to my knees in the mud. My knees hit the gravel, a searing pain shooting through me. I looked up, glaring at him, my voice trembling. “Damien Thorne! Your end is near! I advise you not to celebrate too soon!” He merely slowly raised his hand, looking down at me condescendingly. “Break her leg.” The iron rod sliced through the dim air with a cold glint. The next second, an intense, shattering pain exploded from my right leg. I gasped, desperately trying to crawl towards the lake. But Damien grabbed my hair, pulling me back. “Trying to escape? You were so tough just now, weren’t you? Where’s this retribution you spoke of? I don’t see it!” He bared his teeth and roared with wild laughter in the wind, “I’m telling you this now, Damien Thorne! In this entire city, no one who dares threaten me has been born yet! What the hell are you, trying to challenge me?!” “Cut out her tongue!” Before I could react, a furious gust of wind suddenly whipped through the trees. Splinters of wood mixed with small stones flew through the air, scratching the man who was walking towards me with a knife. Everyone exchanged glances, falling silent. “Mr. Thorne, this sudden chill wind in the middle of the night… it feels too eerie.”

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  My husband’s female best friend lost a drinking game and was dared to reveal the most intimate thing she’d ever done with someone of the opposite sex. She suddenly turned to me with a mischievous grin: “I once gave Oscar a handjob.” The room erupted in shock. I clutched my five-month pregnant belly, feeling it tighten and harden. She seemed to only just realize what she’d said, shrugging nonchalantly: “Oh, it was when you’d just gotten pregnant and he was blackout drunk. He was really uncomfortable.” “No need to thank me, sis-in-law. Just helping out a friend. Better than him cheating because he couldn’t hold it, right?” ***** Before the words had even finished leaving her mouth. Oscar raised the half-eaten cucumber he was holding and smacked Janice’s hand: “Shut up, will you? Your skills are amateur hour compared to my wife’s!” Janice laughed and took the cucumber, biting into it suggestively: “I must say, it’s about the same size.” They burst into laughter, as if an invisible barrier had formed, isolating me from the group. No one looked at me. No one seemed to care about my feelings. It was as if I, five months pregnant, was just an unwanted prop that shouldn’t be there. The game continued, and this time Oscar lost. The card read: “French kiss someone of the opposite sex for three minutes.” There were only two women present – me and Janice. But they all instinctively pushed Oscar towards Janice. “Come on, we all agreed it’s just a game! Only an idiot would take it seriously!” He was laughing, she was giggling, and a group of people raised their phones to take photos and videos. I couldn’t take it anymore. I picked up my glass and smashed it on the ground. The shattering glass silenced the room. In the dead quiet, I slowly stood up, steadying myself against the pain in my back. My voice was eerily calm: “Want to play something more exciting?” “I’ll help you!” I took out my phone and dialed 911. “Hello, officer? There’s a group engaging in lewd behavior here…” Oscar was the first to react, rushing over to grab my phone: “Vivien, have you lost your mind? It’s just a game, why are you overreacting?” I looked at his hand still resting on Janice’s waist and suddenly laughed, tears spilling out without warning: “Oscar, when the baby is born, how do you plan to explain this?” “That daddy can’t keep it in his pants, and mommy is a complete idiot?” Oscar’s face darkened as he shielded the pouting Janice behind him, his voice barely containing his anger: “You’re going too far. We said it was just a game!” If this counts as a game, then I certainly can’t play. I turned to leave. Oscar grabbed my wrist: “My friends threw this party specially to celebrate your pregnancy. Do you have to ruin the mood like this?” Hah, friends again. “Slap!” I turned and slapped him hard across the face. The entire room fell silent. Janice stepped forward and pulled Oscar into her arms, patting his head. “Listen to mommy, don’t talk back!” She smiled helplessly: “Sis, Oscar and I have been best friends since we were kids running around naked together. He doesn’t see me as a woman at all! Don’t take it so seriously!” She pushed Oscar towards me as if suddenly realizing something: “Hurry up and apologize to your wife. She’s pregnant, if this keeps up, everyone will suffer.” With one sentence, she made everyone else look at me with disdain. Oscar stood there stiffly, refusing to lower his head. Janice leaned in and whispered something in his ear, giggling. He smirked, then reluctantly looked at me. “It’s my fault, happy now?” The nausea hit me like a wave. I left the room without looking back. I didn’t expect Oscar to follow me out. The whole way, my stomach cramped painfully, but all I could hear were his complaints. “Did pregnancy make you stupid? Janice is my friend, how can you be jealous of her!” “Why don’t you just tie me to your waist like a dog? You’re suspicious of everyone anyway!” “Use your brain and think about it. If there was really something between us, would she dare to say it out loud?!” Something in my chest shattered completely. “You’re right, there’s nothing between you. I’m just being a bitch.” I shouted, my whole body shaking. “I’ve been tolerating you two for a long time!” All the past grievances felt like slaps across my face. Only I knew how much hurt this final straw had piled onto. “Oscar, let me tell you, when I was hospitalized for appendicitis, you were with her getting manicures. When I was bleeding and on bed rest to save the pregnancy, you were with her playing claw machines. Every time I needed you, you were with your female best friend, up until today!” I gasped for air, tears blurring my vision. “She casually mentioned those unspeakable things right in front of me, and you acted like nothing happened and continued flirting with her. When I couldn’t take it anymore and called the police, you didn’t stand by me, but hysterically said I was crazy!” “From that moment on.” “Oscar, we’re over.” No response. Oscar’s gentle voice suddenly rang out: “Don’t be afraid, I’m here. I’ll protect you.” I turned around. He was wearing headphones, voice chatting with Janice while they played a game together.

  The sounds of their game continued late into the night. I sat alone on the balcony, repeatedly stroking my stomach as the baby kicked vigorously, and dialed the doctor’s number. “Doctor, I’d like to schedule an abortion.” The next morning. I was woken by sharp pains in my abdomen. I struggled to find Oscar. He was sitting on the couch, long legs crossed. His phone kept pinging with notifications, and he was smiling from ear to ear. I called his name several times before he looked up. Seeing my pale face, he froze for a moment, then hurriedly helped me sit down, his fingers kneading my shoulders. “Honey, I can’t accompany you today. Mr. Murphy is waiting for me to discuss acquiring a cruise ship. The company is developing a new tourism route.” His tone was light, as if everything from yesterday had already been forgotten. He was always like this, letting me go to bed upset. As if just ignoring me and giving me the cold shoulder would automatically solve the problem. The pain made me instinctively grab his hand, but his other hand was still focused on typing, completely ignoring me. Janice’s shameless yelling came from outside: “Oscar, your dad’s here! What are you dawdling for?” Oscar immediately broke free from me, put down his phone and ran towards the door. I collapsed on the floor, my elbow knocking over his phone. On the screen, a group chat called “Princess Janice and Her Knights” was pinned at the top. I couldn’t help but click on it, and froze in place. “Vivien is such a drama queen. I told you ages ago that you two weren’t compatible, but you wouldn’t listen.” “It’s so exhausting having an outsider at every gathering. You should’ve just married Janice back then!” Janice sent a tongue-sticking-out emoji: “Whatever, it’s my birthday today, why bring up that killjoy? Oscar said he’s buying a cruise ship as my birthday gift. This princess is ready for the sea breeze and sunshine!” Oscar’s teasing reply followed: “Kowtow to daddy and this life is yours.” Janice immediately sent a kowtowing emoji: “Now your life is mine, I order you not to bring your wife today!” “Bro, I saw Janice packed a bikini. Who’s the real birthday gift here? [wink]” It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me, leaving me cold and breathless. As expected, people can act, but their true colors always show in their inner circle. When I first tried to fit in with them, everyone seemed as friendly as angels. But I mistook their politeness for sincerity. They were an impenetrable fortress, and I would always be the unwelcome outsider. The pain intensified. I trembled as I took out my phone and took screenshots, page by page. When Oscar came back for his phone, I was already curled up on the couch in pain. He didn’t even glance at me, in a rush to leave. “Honey, my friends want to go play on the cruise ship too. You’re pregnant and can’t join in the fun anyway, so don’t bother coming along.” I was deathly pale as I grabbed his sleeve: “My stomach hurts, can you take me to the hospital?” Asking a question when I already knew the answer was my last attempt to give him a way out. If he insisted on leaving, I’d be done with him too. As we were stuck in this standoff, Janice impatiently clicked her tongue outside: “Hurry up, I’m dying of heat out here!” Oscar yanked his hand away from me, extremely irritated. “What are you playing at? You were fine just now. I’m so sick of you using the baby as an excuse.” I was thrown back onto the couch by his forceful shove, my heart dying along with it. Janice came in from outside and grabbed Oscar’s ear: “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Why are you being so mean! All pregnant women are like this, always wanting everyone to revolve around them. What’s wrong with being a little dramatic?” Oscar snorted in disdain: “If she was even one-tenth like you, I wouldn’t be so annoyed.” His gaze suddenly fell on Janice’s shoulder strap, and he reached out to adjust it naturally. “Silly piggy! Didn’t you notice it was loose?” Janice swept her hair to one side, enjoying his touch and giggling: “Gentle! You’re hurting me.” Oscar pressed down on her chest, grinning mischievously: “Where? It’s as flat as an airport runway.” Amid their laughter, they disappeared around the corner. I dialed Robert’s number directly: “I’ll come find you at your cruise ship later.” He replied with a simple “Okay.” Oscar didn’t know that Robert was my childhood friend. After over 20 years of open and honest friendship, I knew better than anyone what pure friendship looked like. Six years of love, from school uniforms to wedding dresses. I wanted to see for myself just how rotten this relationship had become at its core. The salty sea breeze blew. On the deck of the luxury cruise ship, screams and laughter mixed together. I leaned against the railing not far away, wearing sunglasses and a mask. Watching Janice in her bikini sitting close to Oscar, who was only wearing swim trunks. They were playing a vulgar game of passing tissues with their mouths. Janice deliberately bit the tissue until only a tiny corner was left. Oscar leaned in several times but couldn’t grab it. “Oscar lost! Time for punishment!” Someone shouted: “How about you publicly confess to someone? What about Janice?” Janice giggled and collapsed onto Oscar’s lap, playfully punching his chest: “Oh my, how embarrassing!” Another person yelled: “Things have already gone this far, what’s the point of confessing?” “Janice, what exactly happened back then? Give us brothers the juicy details!” As everyone joked around, Janice suddenly said bluntly: “Watch daddy’s skills! Monkey steals the peach!” Oscar deftly blocked her, laughing and cursing: “You little brat!” As they roughhoused, he inadvertently grabbed the string of her bikini top and yanked. The strap instantly came loose! Amid Janice’s screams, Oscar reflexively pulled her tightly into his arms, shouting at everyone: “Turn around, don’t look!” The waves crashed relentlessly. He gently helped her retie the strings, his fingertips grazing her bare back. Their gazes intertwined, sparks flying. In that moment, I watched as the man I loved, who once stood in the sunlight with me, exploded into a mess of rotten flesh. While I hid in the shadows, fully covered up, peeking at other people’s happiness like a cockroach. Pathetically watching the father of my child instinctively protect another woman. Robert beside me couldn’t hold back anymore and wanted to rush over, but I firmly held him back. After hesitating for a long time, I called Oscar’s phone. Across the not-too-far distance, I saw his phone light up.

  He glanced at it. The ringtone sounded once, then twice. He just looked at it, never answering. Janice saw the “Wife” contact name and pouted. “You promised to keep me company. No distractions allowed, not even her. Otherwise I’ll never talk to you again.” Oscar smiled and raised his hand to toss the phone into a glass full of alcohol, raising an eyebrow: “My little princess, satisfied now?” Seeing Janice finally nod, Oscar lifted her high above his head and spun her around. Her excited screams carried on the sea breeze. I put down the phone that was still recording video, tears already soaking through my mask. Oscar, so six years of love amounted to only this. I hope you’re prepared for the eighteen levels of hell waiting for you. They must have gotten tired of playing, as the group sat down to chat. Janice’s voice drifted over on the wind: “Actually, on Oscar’s wedding night, I got totally wasted and said I wanted to just marry anyone. He panicked and came to find me, wearing Vivien’s wedding dress.” “Isn’t that hilarious? The two of us were like kids playing house, bowing to the moon as if we were getting married.” My heart clenched painfully. I remembered that custom-made wedding dress I’d searched for so long. Oscar said it got dirty and he sent it to be cleaned, but accidentally lost it. Janice laughed and added: “I joked at the time that bowing to the heavens made it real, so I wouldn’t get married in the future. But I said I wanted a child, though I was afraid of the pain of childbirth. Guess how this idiot reacted?” Oscar just smiled and drank, not stopping her. Janice raised her eyebrows proudly when everyone urged her to continue: “He actually took it seriously! Then he really took me to do IVF!” She winked, signaling Oscar to pick up the story. “Oscar, what about that child?” Oscar drained his glass, his eyes dark. “The baby in Vivien’s belly right now is mine and Janice’s test tube baby.” Boom— Something exploded in my brain, leaving it blank. In my ears was Robert’s enraged cursing of “beast”, in my vision was Oscar’s nonchalant expression. I suddenly clutched my stomach. As if sensing my grief, it began to move violently. But I only felt bitter irony. From the very beginning of trying to conceive, Oscar had lied to me, saying his sperm count was low so IVF would have a higher success rate. Countless days and nights, I took medicine until I was nauseous, my belly covered in bruises from injections. The day it successfully implanted, he pressed his ear to my stomach and said gently: “Good baby, daddy will definitely make you and mommy the happiest people in the world.” It turns out that sentence was never meant for me at all. Janice’s voice drifted over again, full of contempt: “Oscar was so clever. Looking at how Vivien’s body has gone to shit, tsk tsk, I definitely wouldn’t want to turn into an old hag like her.” I couldn’t listen anymore and turned to leave. Suddenly a huge wave hit, violently rocking the ship. Janice was standing at the edge, too absorbed in talking. Amid screams, she was thrown overboard. Oscar didn’t hesitate for a second. He grabbed a life preserver and jumped in after her, swimming towards her with all his might. I was completely stunned. He was terrified of water. He once said water was his biggest fear! He really would risk his life for her without a second thought. I turned away, unwilling to watch that heroic rescue scene any longer, and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. As the anesthesia entered my body, in my hazy consciousness I had only one thought: Oscar, you can get lost now. When I opened my eyes again. Only Robert was by my bedside, his eyes red-rimmed. I instinctively reached for my belly, finding it flat. An unfamiliar feeling of lightness. I turned my head, my voice hoarse: “Where’s Oscar?” Robert looked away and handed me a video clip. The footage was shaky. On the beach, Janice was crying as she performed CPR on Oscar. When Oscar woke up coughing, she immediately hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. “Oscar, I can’t go against my heart anymore.” “I love you! You big idiot, I love you!” Amid the cheers of those around them, they kissed passionately, soaking wet. The mermaid had saved her prince. Their love was unwavering. Only I was the pathetic, laughable bubble. The bubble shattered in the sunlight, turning into tears that slid down my cheeks. The second video clip showed Oscar carrying Janice into a hotel bridal style. At the same time, I received a message from an unknown number on my phone: “Honey, I dropped my phone in the water. Borrowing a friend’s phone to text you.” “I’m still busy here, so I won’t be home tonight. Sweet dreams to you and the baby~” I stared at that message for a very long time. Then, I slowly sat up. “Robert, help me put the aborted fetus in a foam box.” “And hire a group of gossipy old ladies with drums and gongs.” “What are you planning to do?” Robert asked, confused. I said each word clearly: “Of course I’m going to bring this grand gift to the hotel and celebrate my husband taking a concubine with drums and gongs!” With the drum troupe in place, I immediately started a livestream, pretending to be troubled. “Everyone, the host is really having a headache lately. My husband says he and his female friend are just platonic, but I don’t think so.” The comments immediately had people mocking me: [Jealous much? Men and women can totally just be friends.] [The host is obviously narrow-minded.] I quickly shook my head in denial. [No no no, the host isn’t narrow-minded at all. After fighting with my husband’s female friend, I had an epiphany.] I paused for half a second, watching the viewer count skyrocket. [If there really is something between them, I’ll immediately arrange for my husband to take her as a concubine.] A mix of insults and sympathy flooded the comments. Using an online tutorial, I got the room key and led the drum troupe towards the room. I pushed open the door. The room was a mess, two half-naked bodies were entangled together. I covered my mouth and shouted: “Wow! Groping boobs and dicks, enjoying yourselves! Such good friends indeed!”

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  I’m a cocktail waitress in a seedy bar, squeezed into a bunny costume that was more humiliation than fabric. In the VIP booth, the tycoon’s son, Bruno, was arguing with his one true love, a black card pinched between his fingers. “Five million on this card. Are you sure you don’t want it?” The girl, dressed in a janitor’s uniform, sneered at him from behind her mop. “My money is clean! You think being rich makes you special? Go on, ask anyone. Who would ever love a person like you?” Furious, Bruno grabbed me. “The card is yours. Do you dare to love me?” I took the card. “I dare.” Later, the girl had regrets. And Bruno? He came back to me. “Victoria is bothered by our past,” he’d said. “Maybe you should date someone else for a while.” “Fine,” I’d replied. ***** The sky was already dark when I left the hospital after visiting my grandmother. I hopped on my e-scooter and raced toward the bar where I worked. Halfway there, the rain started pouring. For a split second, I was distracted, and my wheels skidded on the slick pavement. Of course, I had to crash into a Maybach. A rear-end collision in the rain. I was completely at fault. A door opened and a man stepped out, unfurling a black umbrella. He tilted it kindly in my direction. As he got closer, I saw he was around my age, but with a refined, almost delicate beauty. Fair skin, a high-bridged nose, and sharp, elegant eyes that tilted up at the corners. His suit, though brandless, was impeccably tailored, making him look even more coolly aristocratic in the rain. I moved my aching arm and scrambled to my feet, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, the rain was too heavy, my scooter slipped, I’m really so sorry…” A pathetic little whimper escaped my lips, brimming with self-pity. I held up my scraped arm, rubbing at my eyes. If I was going to play the victim card, now was the time. I was a student by day and a worker by night. Medical bills, tuition, living expenses—I was short on everything. There was no way I could afford to fix his car. I’d heard stories of rich car owners magnanimously forgiving broke commoners. A desperate prayer formed in my mind: Please let him be a kind, wealthy man who doesn’t care about the money. A familiar female voice cut through the rain, sharp with impatience. “Bruno, hurry up! Don’t make me late for work!” Work? A high-society heiress who takes a Maybach to her part-time job? A pale, oval face appeared in the car window. It was Victoria, the scholarship student from the class next to mine. Bruno pushed the umbrella into my hand and helped me right my scooter. He sighed, a note of resignation in his voice. “Forget it. Just go. Be careful on the road.” I thanked him profusely, terrified he would change his mind, and sped off into the rain. As I left, I heard Victoria complain, “What a hassle. I’m never riding in your car again.” I recognized him then. Bruno. The old-money heir from the campus forums. He was the sole heir to the Antonia Corporation, and he was hopelessly in love with the scholarship student, Victoria. The whole school knew he was pursuing her. He’d showered her with luxury gifts and arranged internships, all of which she had publicly refused. The last time, he’d staged a massive drone light show confession outside the women’s dorms. Victoria had finally appeared, looking distressed, begging him to “stop putting her on the spot,” insisting she didn’t want his “charity” and that she wanted to “make her own way in life.” I thought their tragic love story had finally ended, but here he was, still trying. I suppose it made sense. Everyone praised Victoria for her integrity and backbone. I’d even heard girls getting lectured by their boyfriends when they asked for birthday presents. “Look at Victoria. She never spends a man’s money.” In the bar’s staff room, I shivered as I changed into the bunny costume. The skirt was scandalously short, barely covering anything. I pulled on two pairs of thick tights and pinned the neckline higher. My manager knew my situation. “You get a 15% commission on drinks,” she’d told me. “As long as the customers don’t get out of hand, don’t turn your nose up at the money.” I nodded. A week’s pay as a bunny girl could cover several more days of my grandmother’s hospital stay. The door at the end of the hall opened. I froze. Victoria? She was wearing an oversized janitor’s uniform, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, struggling with a heavy water bucket. Our eyes met. A flash of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a look of derision. “You work here too?” “Yeah. You? Janitor?” “The hourly wage is higher here,” she said, straightening her back. “And it’s clean.” I glanced at her washed-out sneakers and almost laughed. What was the difference between being a janitor here and anywhere else? You were still scrubbing floors. Or was she implying that, compared to my job, hers was infinitely cleaner? We weren’t close, so we didn’t speak further. I carried a tray of drinks into a private room to make a sale. The room was thick with smoke. Bruno and his circle of rich friends were lounging on the sofas. A shattered bottle of Ace of Spades lay on the floor, its contents pooling on the carpet. Victoria was called in to clean it up. “Isn’t that the girl Bruno’s after?” someone whispered. The guy next to her quickly took the mop. “Here, let me get that for you.” Victoria’s head snapped up, her eyes like ice. “No need! You break a bottle to force me to serve you, and now you’re playing the nice guy?” The room fell silent.

  Bruno’s face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means,” Victoria said, standing up straight, “that I earn my money honestly. Not like some people!” “Victoria!” Bruno cut her off, pulling a black card from his wallet. “Just listen to me. Think of it as a sponsorship. You don’t have to work in a place like this.” I stood to the side, a silent observer. For people like us, a “place like this” was the best opportunity we could get. Victoria was trembling with rage. “Bruno!” she shrieked. “I’m not for sale!” Every eye in the room swiveled to me. Me, in my bunny costume with its barely-there skirt. Someone coughed awkwardly. “Hey, don’t mind her. She didn’t mean it like that.” I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. My nails dug into my palms. I was afraid if I let go, I would lunge at her and pull her hair. Who the hell was she to judge me? She preached about making her own way, yet she was secretly benefiting from the extra scholarship money Bruno had arranged for her. And from her moral high ground, she had the audacity to mock those of us who were truly struggling in the mud. “Last time I’m asking. Five million on this card,” Bruno said, slapping the black card on the coffee table. “Are you sure you don’t want it?” Victoria sneered. “I earn my money honestly! You think being rich makes you special? Go on, ask anyone. Who would ever love a person like you?” The room went quiet again. A humorless laugh escaped Bruno’s lips. He grabbed my wrist. “What about you? The card is yours. Do you dare to love me?” The black card gleamed under the dim lights. I thought of the IV needle buried in my grandmother’s wrist. I thought of the mountain of tuition and fees that were about to crush me. Dignity? That was a luxury only the rich could afford. “I dare,” I said without hesitation, taking the card from his hand. Victoria’s expression froze. She stared at me, her gaze dropping to Bruno’s hand, which was now wrapped possessively around my waist. “You’re pathetic,” she spat at me. Then, for Bruno’s benefit, she added, “You’ll regret this.” She stalked out, mop in hand, her head held high. Bruno’s friends, however, burst into cheers. “Out with the old, in with the new!” “It’s about time you moved on, man! What’s the point of chasing someone who just throws it back in your face?” “She’s addicted to playing the victim! Turning down good money just to suffer.” “Yeah, this one is much sweeter!” Yes, I was pathetic. So pathetic that I could see the truth she refused to acknowledge. The special “underprivileged student” spot that magically appeared in last semester’s international competition. The extra TA position in the science lab that the professor had hand-picked her for. I wanted those unseen advantages and privileges, too. She wanted to be a saint. Fine. I hope she enjoys her sainthood. After that night, I became Bruno’s official girlfriend. He told me to spend the five million on the card as I pleased, and to let him know if I needed more. I used his card to pay for my grandmother’s hospital stay, pre-loading her account with two million. It would be more than enough. The moment the transaction notification popped up on my phone, for the first time, I felt the frantic, spinning top of my life begin to slow down. Before this, every day had been a struggle. Two meals a day: a bun and an egg for breakfast, rice and one vegetable dish for lunch. The egg was my only protein. The vegetables were the cheapest on offer at the cafeteria. One day, I was in line at the cafeteria, deciding to splurge on a meat dish. A short burst of laughter erupted behind me. It was Victoria and her friends, whispering to each other. Their eyes were fixed on the designer cashmere scarf Bruno had given me. It was, undoubtedly, evidence of my gold-digging ways. When I went to the logistics office to quit my campus jobs, the manager gave me a pointed look. “A young girl like you should focus on being practical.” At the elevator for my weekend English class, I ran into the top student from my department. “You’re in the summer intensive course, too?” The moment I nodded, I heard whispers from behind me. “She’s just buying her way in with her boyfriend’s money.” They were right. But I was going to use this shortcut to build my own path. With money in my pocket, my hostility toward the world began to soften. Of course, every time I used the card, Bruno got a notification on his phone. One night, he called me to pick him up from a bar. As I approached the room, I heard his friends talking. “Not bad, Bruno. This new one actually knows how to spend money. A lot better than the last one!” Bruno jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “Careful what you wish for,” another friend slurred, drunk. “You just got rid of one extreme. Don’t end up with a money-sucking vampire on the other end.” Bruno slipped his phone back into his pocket. He’d been looking at the transaction alerts. They were all from the hospital, the cafeteria, tutoring centers. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “She’s spending it well,” he said, downing his drink in one gulp. “Better than letting it sit in my account like a savings passbook.” When I pushed the door open, they all straightened up, respectfully calling me “sister-in-law.” The title was absurd. At best, I was his arm candy, a soulless gift-receiving machine. Bruno seemed addicted to giving me things. The latest Chanel collection, priceless pearl earrings, a crocodile Birkin bag, entire sets of luxury skincare. “Dress the part, and people will listen to what you have to say,” he told me. He had said the same thing to Victoria once. She had thrown the coat he’d given her back at him, muttering that it was “too flashy.” Then she’d worn her faded, old jacket to a job interview and came back complaining that they hadn’t even bothered to look at her resume because she looked too young. My intimacy with Bruno was limited to holding hands and an arm around my waist. It was as if he just needed someone by his side who knew how to spend money, to complete the picture. And I just happened to desperately need money. One weekend, while we were out shopping, we ran into Victoria at the mall. She saw the shopping bags hooked on my arm. This time, there was no disdain in her eyes. Only envy. Bruno awkwardly let go of my hand, as if he wanted to explain something, but the hatred in her eyes silenced him.

  Three days later, I heard Victoria had applied for the student exchange program. Bruno was at a street food stall with me when he got the call from his advisor. He’d been patiently peeling crayfish for me. For a while, the great heir to the Antonia Corporation had been happily slumming it with me at night markets and food stalls. The red oil from the crayfish had splattered on his white shirt cuff, and I felt a pang of guilt. After he hung up, he didn’t say anything. He just kept peeling the crayfish and piling them on my plate. Everything seemed normal. But in the middle of the night, his friend called me. “Bruno’s at his downtown condo. He’s locked himself in. We’re a little worried. Can you go check on him?” The moment I opened the door, the thick stench of alcohol hit me. The floor-to-ceiling windows were wide open, the curtains whipping violently in the night wind. Bruno was curled up on the rug. He heard me and looked up. His eyes were alarmingly red. His usually straight back was slumped, as if all the strength had been drained from him. “She’s gone,” he said, his voice so hoarse it made my own throat ache. “I used to tell her she was a fool for working so hard to save money. But yesterday… she transferred me some money. She said… she said it was a travel fund we’d saved up together when we were both working part-time.” He suddenly laughed, a sound mixed with a sob. “Why is she so stubborn? I wish she were more like you.” But I knew the truth. If she were like me, Bruno wouldn’t love her. I didn’t know how to comfort him. I cleaned up the apartment and helped him to bed. As I was about to leave, he grabbed my hand. “You’re leaving, too?” “You said you would love me.” I hadn’t realized he remembered what I’d said in the VIP room that night. In the moment I hesitated, he pulled me into his arms, and I fell onto the bed. When he kissed me, even though I had prepared myself to be a sugar baby, I was still scared. I turned my head, and the kiss landed on my cheek. His fingers traced the side of my face, his voice a soft, patient coaxing. “Don’t hide from me, Alberta. You’re mine.” The night dissolved into a blur. After that, physical intimacy became a constant between us, a feverish habit he couldn’t get enough of. One day, he insisted I dress up as a bunny girl for him. I snuggled against his shoulder, a rare moment of coquettishness. “Not today. Next time.” He pinched my waist, always leaving his marks on me, fingerprints and bruises from his kisses. “It’s always ‘next time,’ isn’t it?” He kissed my cheek. “My timid little bunny.” Later, as we were both scrolling through our phones, I saw in the alumni group chat that Victoria was coming back to the country. I’m sure he saw it, too. His phone rang. “Bruno, Victoria’s back. She’s throwing a welcome home party. Are you coming?” He shot me a guilty look and snapped into the phone, “Don’t bother me!” I pretended not to care. “You should go if you want to.” I don’t know if it was my timing, or if my feigned magnanimity had struck a nerve. The smile vanished from his lips. I wrapped the sheet around myself and reached for my clothes on the floor. “I’m heading back to campus.” “Okay,” he said distractedly. I couldn’t focus in the library. I put on my headphones and logged into a burner account on a game. And then I heard it. His friend’s voice, clear as day through the game’s voice chat. “So, if Victoria is willing to give you a shot, what about Alberta?” Bruno’s voice was cool and distant. “What about her?” “I mean, she’s been your girlfriend for two years.” I held my breath. In the game, my character had already been killed. He sighed. “We’ll break up. I can’t be with two people at once, can I? Besides, I’ve been more than generous with her these past two years.” His friend agreed. “True. It’s a shame, though. We’ve all gotten used to having Alberta around.” “That’s enough. Not a word about this in front of Victoria.” The one who isn’t loved is always the third wheel. I understood. I quit the game. Suddenly, the last two years with Bruno felt completely meaningless. But tears still fell onto my phone screen. My fingers trembled as I typed out the words. It was better to make a graceful exit now than to wait for him to deliver the sentence. “Bruno, Victoria’s back. Let’s break up. I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted.” I waited a long time. The “typing…” bubble appeared and disappeared. Bruno hated texting. He always said, “Why waste time texting when you can clear things up with a two-minute phone call?” A “ding” signaled a new message. “Okay. If you ever need anything, just ask.” When things were good, I had dared to hope he might love me. Now that we were breaking up, I finally understood my place. I was just the opportunistic clown who had taken advantage of a situation. “Victoria has always had a misunderstanding about you. I hope you two can avoid each other in the future.” I understood that message, too. He was afraid I would use some cheap trick to hurt his precious white moonlight. He was warning me. The past two years had given me the illusion that we were equals. Now that we were breaking up, I realized that he had always had the right to look down on me. I froze, my hand gripping the phone. “Okay. Understood,” I typed back. I moved out of the dorm immediately and started at the internship I had already arranged. That night, there was a welcome dinner for the new interns. Of all places, it was at the same bar where I used to work. The moment I walked in, I saw Victoria on Bruno’s arm. I quickly ducked into the next room. As I was about to leave, someone stopped me. I recognized him. A VIP at the bar named James. I had met him once with Bruno. I remembered they didn’t seem to like each other. His eyes raked over me. “Bruno’s girlfriend?” I frowned. “Sorry, wrong room.” He smirked, a lecherous look in his eyes, and tilted my chin up with his fingers.

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  Seven times, I married the same man. And seven times, for the sake of his one true love, my husband divorced me. The first time we married, he told me, “For the rest of my life, I will love only you.” But whenever she came back to town, his tune would change. “Can’t you be more understanding? Do you really want Emma to be branded a homewrecker?” The first time we divorced, I slit my wrists in a desperate attempt to keep him. They rushed me to the hospital, but he never came. Not once. The third time, I debased myself, applying for a job as his assistant, just for the chance to see him more often. By the sixth time, I had learned to pack my things quietly and move out of our home without a fight. My hysteria, my retreats, my quiet compliance—all of it earned me his punctual remarriages and his predictable betrayals. Until this time. This time, after getting word that his precious Emma was returning, I was the one who handed him the divorce papers. He set a date for our remarriage, just like all the other times, but he didn’t know. This time, I was leaving for good. *****   “Emma’s back. We should get a divorce.” I slid the signed papers across the table to my husband, Ryan Hugh. For a moment, he looked stunned, but he recovered quickly, signing his name with a practiced ease. This was the first time I had initiated it. But he still made the same casual promise he always did. “She’ll be gone in a month. We’ll get married again then.” In the past, those words would have sent me spiraling, desperate for more reassurance. I would have demanded he swear an oath, sign a contract. But this time, I felt nothing. No desire to respond at all. “Tiffany, are you listening to me?” Ryan’s brow furrowed, clearly annoyed by my silence. I had to force a nod. “Yes.” My hands didn’t stop moving, folding clothes and placing them neatly into a suitcase. Ryan always kept his word about remarrying me. He was known in his industry for his integrity. That much was certain. It was almost as if we weren’t a husband and wife, but two parties in a contract, periodically terminating and renewing our agreement. The marriage and divorce certificates were just paperwork, two a year, every year. To date, I had signed twelve. I remembered on our wedding day, he promised he would never be unfaithful during our marriage. And he had kept that promise. After all, once we were divorced, he was free to be with whomever he wanted. The only cost was my reputation. I was known throughout our social circle as his plaything, a woman he could summon and dismiss at will. My unusual calm today seemed to unnerve him. The memory of my past hysterics, of the times I’d hurt myself, was still vivid in his mind. He watched me pack, faster and more efficiently than ever before, and said, a little defensively, “I can be the one to move out this time…” The snap of the suitcase latch closing cut him off. “I’ve already arranged it with my friend. I’ll stay with her for a few days.” A flicker of recognition crossed Ryan’s face, and his expression soured. “Don’t tell me you’re playing hard to get again. Are you going to sneak into the company disguised as an assistant to watch me?” “Tiffany, can’t you get a life? Are you really that incapable of living without a man?” I understood his subtext perfectly. He just didn’t want me showing up at his office and disturbing his precious time with Emma. She was only in town for a short while, after all, and he wanted her by his side, in her role as his special assistant. After our second divorce, I had successfully applied for that assistant position. I had walked into his office holding his favorite latte, my heart full of hope. I found him locked in a passionate kiss with Emma, who was sitting on his lap. I lost control and attacked her. Ryan slapped me so hard I fell to the floor. A crowd of employees gathered outside the office, gawking at the spectacle. They all thought I was still the CEO’s wife, and their gazes on Emma were filled with contempt. To protect Emma’s reputation, Ryan ignored my tearful pleas, snatched my purse, and dumped its contents onto the floor. The deep red of the divorce certificate was like a gaping mouth, screaming the truth of our relationship to the entire world. From then on, every time we divorced, Ryan made sure to announce it publicly. Everyone knew Ryan loved Emma. And everyone knew I was the shameless one, clinging to him, refusing to let go. But this time, Ryan’s fears were unfounded. I picked up my suitcase without hesitation. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again.” He eyed me with suspicion, but as I opened the door and stepped out, he called after me, a hint of urgency in his voice. “We’re getting remarried on the 13th of next month. Don’t you forget.” I froze for a second. What a coincidence. The 13th was the day I was leaving the country.

  With Emma back, Ryan didn’t think of me once. Just as he’d promised. And I, for my part, broke my old, obsessive pattern of tracking his every move, of trying to intercept him at every possible location. Instead, I settled into a blissful routine with my best friend, Janice, filled with late-night food runs and cheap beer. The days flew by. With only twenty days left before my departure, Janice and I were waiting for our food at a restaurant when Ryan and Emma walked in. He had his arm around her waist, and they were laughing, looking like a perfect couple. “Tiffany?” Ryan’s eyes found me immediately. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, her smile sickeningly sweet. “Tiffany, what a coincidence! You’re here for dinner too?” When she saw my gaze land on her, Ryan instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her. I knew he thought I was going to lunge at her, just like I had before. But not only did I not move, I actually held back Janice, who was ready to fight on my behalf. I managed a nonchalant smile. “Yeah, what a coincidence.” Sensing my submission, Emma’s smile widened. “So sorry, Tiffany, but Ryan promised to book the entire restaurant just for me tonight. You’ll have to find somewhere else to eat.” She tugged on his arm, her voice a saccharine whine. “Isn’t that right, Ryan? You have to say something, or Tiffany will think I’m targeting her on purpose.” For a split second, as his eyes met my calm gaze, Ryan hesitated. But then he nodded at me. He didn’t say a word, but his silence was more cutting than any insult. Janice started to roll up her sleeves, but I gently pressed her arm down. “It’s fine. We can go somewhere else.” Somewhere else. Somewhere without Ryan. My departure was so close. I didn’t want to waste any more time on pointless arguments with my ex-husband. As a good ex, shouldn’t I just treat him as if he were dead? The restaurant manager, sensing the situation, rushed over to fawn over the couple. “You two are so lovely together. It’s truly enviable.” At his words, Ryan’s gaze shifted to me, a complex mix of wariness and curiosity. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. But I just took Janice’s hand and stood up to leave, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. Ryan was clearly not expecting my lack of reaction. He stared at my retreating back, lost in thought. Emma had to call his name several times, her voice growing impatient, before he finally, reluctantly, tore his eyes away.     I thought the encounter at the restaurant would be my last with Ryan before I left. But on the evening I officially resigned from my position as his assistant, he sent me a video call request. This was so unprecedented that I had to fight the urge to decline, instead answering with audio only. His voice was laced with annoyance. “Why just audio?” “I’m not wearing any makeup,” I said, the excuse tasting like ash in my mouth. It was a foolish thing to say, implying I still wanted to look good for him. As I expected, he chuckled, his mood instantly lifting. “We’ve been married long enough. Is there any version of you I haven’t seen?” His flirtatious tone made my skin crawl. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice cold. He sensed the shift immediately, his lazy posture straightening. “HR told me you resigned.” “I did,” I said, offering no explanation. Silence hung between us. He tried to make a joke, but it sounded forced. “It’s for the best, I guess. You had a perfectly good life as the CEO’s wife, and you chose to be an assistant. Talk about making things hard for yourself. Not that you were ever in the office much anyway. And I still had to pay you every month. The whole company knew you were only there because of me. They all said I was playing favorites.” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin. “Don’t you need to be with Emma?” He muttered under his breath, “It’s not like there’s anything serious between us. Nothing to be with.” Then he fell silent, as if suddenly remembering that I was just his ex-wife, too. A wave of guilt seemed to wash over him. “About the divorce… I’m sorry.” “I was just worried that if we stayed married, people would talk about Emma…” I nodded. Emma shouldn’t be subjected to gossip. So I should be the one to become a laughingstock, the butt of every joke in our circle. My voice turned to ice. “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” “Wait!” he said, his voice urgent. “The 12th is our anniversary. There’s a concert, The Remnants. I know you want to go. I’ll take you. We’ll go together, okay?” For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to tell him the truth. But before I could speak, Emma’s voice drifted from his end of the line. “Ryan, honey, I forgot my towel. Can you bring it to me?” He didn’t answer right away, just stared at my name on his phone screen, clearly torn. “Go on,” I said, my voice flat. He slowly got up, but he didn’t put the phone down. “Tiffany, wait for me. I’ll be right back.” He walked towards the bathroom. And then, just as I expected, I heard the sound of them kissing, a muffled grunt from Ryan, and the bathroom door slamming shut. I hung up, a bitter smile on my face. Just then, Janice burst in, excited about a night out at a club. Without a second thought, I put my phone down and linked my arm with hers. There were so many other things in the world that could make me happy. I had been blind for so long. Why waste another moment of my life on a man who was already in my past?

  The days without Ryan passed in a blur. Before I knew it, my departure was just a few days away. I hadn’t seen him, but I’d heard from Janice that he and Emma had had a massive fight. He’d even stormed out of a gala, leaving her humiliated. Rumor had it they were fighting about me. I just laughed it off. I wasn’t that same love-sick girl anymore, the one who would obsessively refresh social media, searching for any sign of a crack in their relationship so I could rush to his side and declare my undying love. They were just having a lover’s quarrel. They’d make up. And what if it was about me? Wasn’t I always just a part of their twisted game? After the fight, though, he started calling me more and more often. I either ignored his calls or made up excuses to avoid seeing him. The day before I was set to leave, he called again, asking me to the concert. “I have the tickets. Let’s meet tonight, okay?” “It’s our anniversary. You can’t say no to me today, can you?” He had never pleaded with me like this before. Usually, he would just toss out a suggestion, take a single step towards me, and I would sprint the other ninety-nine to meet him, only to find that he had already taken that one step back for Emma. But I didn’t know what to say. Because today wasn’t our wedding anniversary. It was the anniversary of our fourth remarriage. After all this time, all the breakups and makeups, I was the only one who bothered to remember all the little details of our life together. But in the end, I agreed. I really did want to see The Remnants. That night, I waited and waited outside the concert hall, but Ryan never showed up. I played the voice message he’d just sent. His guilt-ridden voice, mixed with the loud, muffled sounds of the concert and the faint giggle of Emma in the background, filled my ears. “I’m so sorry, Tiffany. Emma suddenly felt sick. I had to take her to the hospital.” “We’ll have plenty more anniversaries to celebrate. Once she leaves tomorrow, I’ll do whatever you want, okay?” The concert started. A haunting melody drifted out from the venue. “Thanks for the special invitation, to witness your new love’s coronation. I tell myself every second, don’t run away.” I closed the message and, for the first time in a month, opened my social media. The first thing I saw was Emma’s new post from a few minutes ago: a selfie of her and Ryan at the concert. “I’m letting go of all my memories, to make room for your new love story. But I still can’t believe, this is my destiny.” The song continued, a mocking soundtrack to the flicker of hope I had foolishly allowed myself to feel when I agreed to meet him. And now, that last flicker was finally, completely extinguished. Seven divorces. I should have known better, shouldn’t I? But at least this was the last time. With no lingering feelings left, I turned and went to the airport. I sat there all night. At 7 a.m., I checked in for my flight. Ryan sent me a text, asking when we were getting remarried. I didn’t reply. I just deleted his contact. At 8 a.m., I was in the boarding line. He called. I didn’t answer. I just blocked his number. At 9 a.m., I was on the plane. The flight attendant asked everyone to switch their phones to airplane mode. Just then, a call came through. It was Janice. But it was Ryan’s voice on the other end, tight with panic. “Tiffany, where are you?”

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I fell for a guy with nothing, hiding my identity as an heiress. I worked my way up from the bottom, right alongside him. But on the eve of our wedding, I caught him cheating with his female boss. “That Celeste is so ugly and poor, she can’t even hold a candle to you, Valerie.” “I’m still counting on you for career guidance.” My palms were stinging, and it was all I could do to stop myself from bursting through that door and tearing into him. After shredding the multi-million dollar contract in my hand, I fired off a text to Dad. “I agree to the arranged marriage. I’ll be home next week.” The lights were still on in our shared apartment. I was sitting on the couch when Derek walked in. “Celeste, why aren’t you asleep yet?” He took off his jacket, his voice soft, as if everything was normal. I looked up, meeting his eyes. There was a stark red smudge on his collar, unmistakably lipstick. “Worked late?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He nodded, tossing his jacket onto the sofa, then leaned in to hug me. “Project’s on a tight deadline. I’m exhausted.” The scent of Valerie Sterling’s perfume clung to him, making my stomach churn. I sidestepped, avoiding his embrace, and gave him a forced smile. “I’m a little tired.” After a moment’s thought, I decided to give him one last chance. “Derek, what do you really think of me?” His expression froze, then he forced a stiff smile. “You’re the best, Celeste. You never cared that I wasn’t rich, and you always looked out for me.” My fingers trembled slightly. A bitter laugh escaped me, but only in my head. “Just that?” His gaze darted between the clock and me, confused by my question. “Of course not just that! I love you more than anyone.” “What if there was someone better? Someone rich, someone who could actually *give* you a future?” I pressed on, relentless. “Have you been listening to gossip? We’re getting married, of course I wouldn’t want anyone else.” I stared at him, my eyes full of scorn. “You sure?” “Absolutely!” He took my hand, his palm clammy, his voice dripping with sincerity. “I’ve wanted to marry you for ages, I just couldn’t afford it before.” He was always like that, always putting on this sincere act, but deep down… God, what a joke. I pulled my hand away, stood up, and asked, my voice chilling. “What about Valerie Sterling, then?” His smile froze on his face. “Valerie who?” “Never mind. Go to sleep.” My voice was barely a whisper, yet it was heavy with disappointment. I gave him a chance. He chose not to take it. Fine. So be it.

First thing the next morning, I packed all my documents and headed straight to the office. The glass door of the HR department shimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights. When I pushed it open, Valerie Sterling was leaning against a desk, her bright red nails tapping impatiently on a document. She was in a tight black dress today, making the executive badge pinned to her chest gleam like a taunt. “Well, well, if it isn’t our dear Assistant Celeste.” She savored the word ‘assistant,’ dragging it out with mocking emphasis. “Early bird, huh? Coming in to quit?” Manager Thompson, the HR manager, stood by awkwardly, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t. I calmly placed my resignation letter on the table, my voice flat. “That’s right. Please process it as quickly as possible.” Valerie suddenly reached out, pressing down on the document. “What’s the rush?” She leaned in, her perfume so cloying, it made my temples throb. “You know, Derek worked late at my place last night.” She suggestively traced the red mark on her neck, her voice dripping with venom. “Ah, to be young and full of stamina.” I dug my nails into my palms, the sharp pain a desperate anchor. Just then, the office door burst open, and Derek stormed in, cradling a stack of files. “Valerie, your reports.” His words died in his throat. Three pairs of eyes locked, and the air crackled with tension. Derek’s tie was crooked, and there was still an unsmudged lipstick print on his collar. He visibly flinched, his composure shattering the moment he saw me. “Celeste? What are you doing here?” “Just need to handle something with Valerie.” My voice was laced with ice, as if I were speaking to an enemy. “You certainly seem to appreciate how she ‘handles things,’ don’t you?” Valerie suddenly laughed. She playfully patted Derek’s shoulder. “Your girlfriend is hilarious.” She turned to me, a sneer on her face. “Celeste, a poor student like you won’t find another job after leaving here.” “Right, our future Director Miller?” Derek just stood there, his lips twitching, but he eventually just lowered his head, pretending to sort a stack of papers that were already perfectly aligned. That simple action was a sharper dagger than any words he could have spoken. I snatched up my signed resignation, glancing at Derek one last time before turning to leave. “You know what? When I was packing yesterday, I found that necklace you gave me.” He suddenly looked up, and I let out a light, mocking laugh. “It’s fake.” As I walked out of the office building, the sky was a suffocating grey, pressing down on the city. I took a deep breath and called Dad. “Dad, I quit. I’m coming home tomorrow.” On the other end, Dad’s voice was filled with relief. “Good, I’m glad you’re coming home.” Hanging up, I glanced back at the office building where I’d worked for three years, a chilling emptiness in my heart. The fluorescent light in the tiny apartment buzzed, casting a sickly greenish-white glow. Derek chased me through the door as I was zipping up the last of my sweaters in my suitcase. “Celeste, don’t do this!” He grabbed my wrist, his voice laced with pure panic. “Valerie and I really have nothing going on. She’s just… she’s just very friendly.” I yanked my hand away and pulled a velvet box from the drawer. Inside lay *the* “gold” necklace he’d saved three months’ salary for. I tossed it into the trash can right in front of him, the sharp clink of metal against plastic echoing like a final judgment. “Friendly enough to leave hickeys on your neck? Friendly enough for you to wear the *same* shirt for three days?” I pointed to the clothes drying on the balcony, then closed my eyes, my voice filled with anguish. “Derek, every single day when I washed your clothes, all I could smell was *her* perfume!” His face instantly went ashen. He lunged, grabbing my hand again. “Let me explain.” “Explain what?” I scoffed, shaking him off. “Explain how you told Valerie in the conference room that I was ugly and poor?” “Or explain how you sold your dignity just to get a promotion?” Outside, a sudden downpour started, raindrops slamming against the glass like countless tiny, mocking slaps. Derek slumped onto the edge of the bed, water dripping from his hair onto the floor, each drop a tiny accusation. “I know I’m not good enough for you, but this promotion is really important to me.” “How else am I supposed to marry you if I don’t get a higher position?” He said this with a pathetic sadness etched on his face, but his eyes… they held a chilling mix of threat and calculation. My heart felt like it was being gnawed by a thousand tiny insects, a creeping, unbearable pain. I zipped up my suitcase. The harsh zipper sound was like the final nail in the coffin. “Whatever you say.” With that, I turned and walked toward the door. “Where are you going?” He suddenly stood up, blocking the doorway, not wanting me to leave. “Business trip.” “Company arranged it last minute, just for a week.” I gave him a casual excuse, but inwardly, I scoffed. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but eventually just sighed. “Then be careful, come back soon.” I didn’t answer, pulling my suitcase out of the shared apartment.

The day after I got home, Dad arranged for me to meet my fiancé. In the Albright family mansion’s drawing-room, the black tea I was sipping caught in my throat as the double doors swung open. The man stood there, impeccably suited, a smirk playing on his lips, and a familiar glint in his eyes. It was Ashton Hayes, my childhood nemesis. “Ashton Hayes! What are *you* doing here?” I slammed my teacup down, the sharp clatter echoing through the room and startling a black cat on the windowsill. “What, disappointed to see me?” Ashton slowly polished his gold-rimmed glasses, his tone as infuriating as ever. “Heard the great Celeste Albright ran away for love. Figured I’d come back for the show.” His eyes, behind his glasses, curved into a dangerous arc. “Didn’t expect to see a pathetic, drowned rat instead.” I grabbed a cushion and hurled it at him, my face burning crimson with rage. “You’re the rat!” He easily caught the cushion, then suddenly turned serious. “I heard that guy hooked up with his female boss?” Seeing my silence, he scoffed. “I told you, some people, once they get a taste of money, lose their decency faster than you can blink.” “What do you know!” I shot up, ready to argue. “At least he…” “At least what?” Ashton also stood up, his figure towering over me, casting an oppressive shadow. “At least he’d be there for you when you’re sick, bringing you hot tea or chicken soup?” “Or make you breakfast?” He suddenly reached out, pinching my chin, his eyes filled with a trace of something… investigative. “When did you start settling for so little, Celeste?” I slapped his hand away fiercely, but then heard his next words. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me?” I let out a scoff, rolling my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain. “Why not?” Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, Dad and Mr. Hayes were deep in pleasant conversation in the garden. I stared at the diamond tie pin on Ashton’s tie, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want a wedding for the ages. Every media outlet invited.” He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And?” I met his gaze, speaking each word deliberately. “On our wedding day, I want Derek to watch Valerie Sterling’s company go down in flames.” Ashton let out a booming laugh, then reached over and ruffled my hair, a gesture that usually infuriated me, but now felt… different. “*That’s* the Celeste I know.”

The wedding was set for a week later, a grand affair. I stood in the dressing room, wearing my custom-designed wedding gown, my palms slick with nervous sweat. Ashton walked in. Seeing my tension, he deliberately teased, “What, having second thoughts?” I glared at him, feigning ferocity. “Shut up!” He chuckled softly, then reached out to adjust my veil. “Relax. With me here, no one will dare to laugh at you.” I froze for a moment, suddenly feeling like this infuriating guy wasn’t so bad after all. On the signature wall at the reception, Derek’s name was scrawled crookedly, squeezed into a forgotten corner. As Valerie Sterling’s ‘plus one,’ he’d been relegated to an extra seat in the very last row. Derek was busily handing Valerie champagne, but his eyes kept darting towards the gift table, piled high with designer gifts. As the wedding march began, I walked down the aisle on my father’s arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Derek’s back suddenly stiffen. His champagne flute tilted, red wine staining Valerie’s pristine white dress. “What are you doing?!” Valerie’s sharp voice drew everyone’s attention. But Derek was deaf to it. He was staring, utterly transfixed, at the diamond waist chain on my gown. It was the limited edition piece he once swore he’d never be able to afford. “And now, may the bride and groom exchange rings.” The emcee’s voice resonated through the venue. Ashton deliberately raised my left hand, allowing the ten-carat pink diamond to sparkle brilliantly under the spotlights. “You may now kiss the bride.” The moment the emcee finished speaking, Ashton lifted my veil and kissed me. A wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the crowd. In my peripheral vision, I saw Derek stumbling forward, pushing through the crowd, only to be stopped by security. “Celeste!” He cried out, his voice torn. The music swelled, hitting its perfect crescendo. Ashton wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Want to add another act to the show?” Before I could answer, he suddenly turned to the audience. “Thank you to all our distinguished guests for coming, especially my wife’s former colleague.” As he spoke, a spotlight suddenly illuminated Derek’s ashen face. He nervously clutched the edges of his cheap suit, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. “Celeste, how could you marry someone else? Just for money?!” Ashton scoffed, his gaze sweeping mockingly over the guests. “Money? Mr. Miller, you’re not suggesting everyone is as obsessed with it as you are, are you?” “You might not know, but my wife is the heiress of the Albright Group.”

Under the spotlight, Derek’s face shifted from ashen to crimson. He shoved the security guard away, staggering towards the stage. “Celeste!” His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time?!” I stood on the stage, my fingertip lightly caressing the cold facet of my diamond ring. I looked down at him, a sneer curving my lips. “Lying to you?” I let out a soft, contemptuous laugh. “Compared to the three years you spent acting out your pathetic love story, what’s a little secret of mine?” A wave of hushed whispers swept through the guests. Derek’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Valerie Sterling, her heels clicking, rushed forward and grabbed his arm, her bright red nails practically digging into his flesh. “You’re making a fool of yourself!” She hissed, her voice low, but her eyes were fixed on me, sharp and venomous. “Celeste, do you really think marrying into the Hayes family makes you untouchable?” Ashton casually adjusted his cuff, then looked up, his eyes suddenly chilling. “Valerie,” His tone was lazy, yet each word was a razor. “I heard your company’s stock plunged this morning, hitting rock bottom?” Valerie’s face instantly stiffened. “Oh, and one more thing.” Ashton suddenly smiled, pulling me closer by the waist. “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife’s ex-boyfriend. As a thank-you gift…” He paused, leaned down to plant a kiss on my ear, but his voice carried clearly to the entire ballroom. “Hayes Industries will be initiating a full takeover of your company.” Valerie staggered back, her meticulously made-up face twisting in horror. Derek violently shook off her hand, his eyes blazing crimson as he lunged for the stage, only to be grabbed by Ashton’s bodyguards, his shoulders seized, and he was slammed to the ground. “Celeste!” He struggled to look up, veins pulsed wildly in his forehead. “You planned all this, didn’t you? Watching me like an idiot, letting me run around in circles!” I crouched down, the train of my wedding gown billowed out like fresh snow. My fingertip hooked under his chin. “Derek.” I whispered. “You still have her lipstick on your neck.” His pupils constricted. I stood up, looking down at him imperiously. “Get out. Don’t dirty my wedding.” As the bodyguards dragged him away, he suddenly started laughing like a madman. “You think Ashton Hayes is any better?!” He shrieked, his voice swallowed by the soaring crescendo of the symphony.

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I had loved Lucas Hayes for ten long years. He was always so cold, so distant, yet he never objected to our engagement. I foolishly believed that meant he was okay with it, that he wanted it. Until that day. I was braving the torrential downpour, rushing to bring him his stomach medicine. That’s when I stumbled upon Brittany Miller, the heiress of a rival company, playfully coaxing him to drink. I stepped forward to stop her, but his voice was scathing: “Do you really think you’re going to be Mrs. Hayes?” “Mind your own business.” In the noisy, crowded bar, my tears mingled with the rain, blurring my vision. Lucas, from this moment on, your life means nothing to me. Your affairs are no longer my concern. Lights flickered, casting shifting shadows across the bar. My hand clenched around the stomach medicine, and my body felt numb with cold. Mocking glances and looks of amusement and contempt fell on me from all directions. But what stung the most was Lucas’s impatient expression. He had chronic stomach issues; he had to take his medication after eating, otherwise the pain would be unbearable. I’d called him several times, but he hadn’t picked up, so I’d had to ask around for the location of tonight’s gathering. Just as I was about to arrive, a sudden downpour started. It was peak hour traffic; a mere five-hundred-meter stretch, but the GPS blared “thirty minutes.” Desperate to get the medicine to Lucas, I’d dashed through the downpour, soaked to the bone. In the sultry lighting, Brittany was draped against him, playfully coaxing him to drink. He, a man who loathed physical contact, was letting her do whatever she pleased. The moment I pushed the door open, her glass hovered at his lips, a scene of unbearable intimacy, dripping with unspoken desire. A pang of bitter jealousy twisted in my gut, but what flashed in my mind was Lucas’s face, pale with pain during one of his episodes. “He can’t drink!” The words burst out before I could stop them. The room fell silent, the buzzing chatter evaporating. I instinctively looked down. My mud-splattered black leather shoes left a tiny, dark stain on the pristine floor. A wave of mortification washed over me. But what humiliated me even more was Lucas’s response. He leaned back on the couch, a faint ‘Tsk’ escaping his lips. “Do you really think you’re going to be Mrs. Hayes?” “Mind your own business.” He didn’t even spare me a glance, tipping his head back to down the whiskey in one swift gulp. The words I’d meant to say died in my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I swallowed hard, battling the tears, desperate not to look as pathetic as I felt. The others subtly shifted their gazes, treating me like invisible air. They moved carefully, detouring around me when they passed. A sympathetic girl, unable to watch, offered me a dry napkin. But her friend immediately yanked her away: “Why bother with her?” Rainwater dripped incessantly from my hair. Past memories replayed, one after another, in my mind. It hit me then, a cold, crushing realization. Lucas didn’t object to our engagement, not because he secretly wanted it, but because… he simply didn’t care. He didn’t care about his mother’s promise, about my grandma’s dying wish, or about me. To put it more cruelly, he held me in contempt. That’s why he’d stayed silent when others said I wasn’t good enough for him. That’s why my heartfelt concern was nothing more than “meddling” in his eyes. Mortification, humiliation, anger, and a deep sense of betrayal intertwined, but strangely, they dissolved into an eerie calm. I slowly dried my hair, then quietly placed the stomach medicine on the table. One last glance at Lucas. And then, without a backward look, I walked out of that bar.

The lights were still on at the Hayes’ estate. Vivian and a few friends were sitting in the living room, sipping tea. I was at the doorway, changing my shoes, and their conversation drifted clearly into my ears. “Vivian, you’re not actually going to let Lucas marry the housekeeper’s granddaughter, are you?” “If you ask me, you’re just too superstitious.” “Kids get sick easily! Look at Lucas now, he’s grown up, and his health is perfectly fine, isn’t it?” It was Karen, Vivian’s closest friend. Ever since Lucas and I got engaged, she’d always found reasons to disparage me. She’d said things like this not just behind my back, but to my face countless times. Vivian sighed. “Chloe has had a hard life.” “She took such good care of Lucas.” “When Lucas gets married, I’ll make sure to compensate her generously.” My vision blurred, hot tears stinging my eyes. I bit down hard on my lower lip, remembering how Vivian had once wept, begging me not to leave. Lucas had always been sickly. When he was fourteen, he fell gravely ill, so ill that everyone feared for his life. Desperate, Vivian had consulted a renowned spiritual advisor. That advisor, in turn, had singled me out. She claimed I possessed a rare aura, destined to bring good fortune to my future husband, and that my presence alone would ensure Lucas’s recovery if we were engaged. Just like that, I, an orphan adopted by the Hayes family’s housekeeper, was thrust into the role of Lucas Hayes’s fiancée. Lucas had always been cold towards me. When I greeted him, he’d pretend not to see me. When I secretly watched him, he’d frown and turn away. Once, he had an urgent matter and went home early, but I didn’t know, and was too scared to go look for him in class. I could only wait at the school gate. I waited and waited until the sky darkened, until the school was utterly deserted, walking home with tears streaming down my face. That day, I thought for a long time, and finally, I gathered all my courage and spoke to Vivian about breaking off the engagement. But she’d wept, pleading with me not to be angry with Lucas, listing countless reasons to ‘prove’ he actually liked me. “Chloe, Lucas is just a boy who isn’t good at expressing his feelings.” “He doesn’t say it, but in his heart, he can’t live without you.” “If he didn’t like you, why would he go to school with you every day?” “Why wouldn’t he hang out with other girls?” “And why wouldn’t he object to the engagement?” Her words had anchored me, year after agonizing year, in Lucas’s chilling indifference. Vivian’s kindness towards me had also grown, and sometimes, I’d secretly fantasize about her being my own mother. But the illusion, however, was bound to shatter. While I painstakingly learned how to be a good wife and daughter, they had already, unilaterally, pronounced my sentence. After ten years, this house felt less like a home and more like a gilded cage, and I didn’t know if I could even step inside anymore. On the dark street, I dialed my college roommate Riley’s number. “Riley, is that offer for you to work in the States still on the table?”

By the time I returned to the Hayes’ estate, the tea party had dispersed. Vivian saw I was alone, her face fell, and her voice held a note of accusation: “Chloe, why didn’t you bring Lucas back with you?” It was as if I had intentionally abandoned him outside. Yet she knew perfectly well that Lucas did whatever he pleased, accountable to no one. It used to make me feel small, wronged, but mostly anxious, terrified of displeasing her. Now, I simply stated the fact, my voice even: “He didn’t want to come back.” “Even if he didn’t want to, you should have persuaded him! You know his health isn’t great.” “Who was he with? Why didn’t you stay there and wait for him?” I lowered my eyes, unwilling to argue with her. “Just his usual friends, and Brittany.” At Brittany’s name, Vivian’s expression softened instantly. “Brittany was there? Oh, that’s nice.” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, her brows furrowed as she shot me a quick glance. I knew exactly what she was thinking: that my presence might upset Brittany. I didn’t react with my usual anxious compliance when she was displeased. I simply changed my shoes and went to my room to pack. I had very few belongings at the Hayes’ estate. What needed to be tossed, I tossed; what needed to be discarded, I discarded. What remained fit perfectly into a 28-inch suitcase. Only one thing, I didn’t know what to do with. It was a teddy bear in a brown dress, a gift Lucas had given me the day my grandma passed away. The young Lucas had gently pulled me into his arms, his voice a low, rough murmur: “Chloe, don’t be sad.” “I’ll take care of you from now on.” It was an embrace and a promise born out of pity, yet I had foolishly believed it was proof of Lucas’s special feelings for me. The bear seemed to stare back at me, mocking my foolish, self-deluded heart. I’d originally thought of returning it to Lucas, but then I realized, knowing his temperament, he’d simply toss it into the trash without a second thought.

I barely slept that night. Early the next morning, I carried my belongings downstairs. Lucas was eating breakfast. He glanced at the bundle in my arms, a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but he said nothing. As indifferent as ever. Vivian, however, asked, “Where are you going?” “Nowhere special. Just packing up some old things, I plan to take them out to—” Before I could finish, Lucas’s phone rang. He mumbled a few replies, then stood up and started getting dressed. “Something came up at the office. I’m heading there now.” Vivian reminded him, “Drive safely.” No one cared about my answer anymore. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, then left to hail a cab for the mall. Though the Hayes family had a chauffeur, I never used him. My tuition and living expenses, everything, I earned through odd jobs and part-time work. It was my pathetic way of clinging to some dignity in front of Lucas. As if by not taking advantage of their wealth, I could face him with a sliver more of self-respect. In the city’s most bustling mall, dazzling lights shimmered. I stood at the counter, thinking of buying Riley a brooch as a gift. A familiar voice, laced with a playful whine, floated from behind me: “Lucas, darling, doesn’t this necklace just scream ‘me’?” I instinctively turned my head. A tall, aloof man and a pretty, delicate girl. Anyone would say they made a perfect couple. I merely glanced, my eyes meeting Lucas’s. His eyes held a flicker of impatience. “What are you doing here?” I knew what he was thinking: he suspected I was following him. Back in high school, he’d go out with friends every weekend to unwind. Vivian, always worried, would make me tag along. But those rich kids never liked me. And I couldn’t refuse Vivian, so I’d always trail them secretly. When Lucas caught me, I’d just duck my head, stammering, unable to explain myself. But now, I pointed to the sales associate who was wrapping my purchase, my expression calm. “I’m just here to buy Riley a gift. I’ll be leaving immediately.” Lucas frowned, clearly unconvinced, but I didn’t press the issue or add anything else. From start to finish, I treated him like an acquaintance I’d bumped into by chance.

Back home, I knocked on Vivian’s door. After all, I’d lived in the Hayes’ estate for so many years; it was only right that I said goodbye. When I told her I was going to work in the States, she hesitantly nudged, “The States? What about your engagement to Lucas, then…?” “A childhood promise, nothing more.” Hearing me say that, Vivian feigned annoyance, but a look of profound relief washed over her face. “Chloe, how can you make such a big decision without telling the family?” “But since you’ve made up your mind, then do as you please. You’re a grown woman now, and matters of the heart aren’t for me to interfere with. When are you leaving?” Looking at Vivian, my heart twisted with a bitter ache. Not for her, but for the naive girl I used to be. “Tomorrow morning.” “So soon!” This time, Vivian genuinely looked shocked. Because tomorrow was her birthday. Every year, I’d prepare a surprise and cook her a special birthday meal. Vivian would hug me, teasing, “My daughter-in-law is so thoughtful. That boy Lucas has never cooked for me once!” I paused, then continued, “I won’t be attending your birthday dinner tomorrow.” “So no one gets the wrong idea.” As for what “wrong idea” people might get, Vivian and I both knew perfectly well. She also realized this, her expression turned complicated, and she hesitated, saying nothing for a long moment. I took her silence as consent.

The next day, I timed my descent down the stairs. Lucas was leaning against the sofa, meticulously instructing Martha about the evening’s party arrangements. Broken strands of dark hair fell across his forehead, giving the usually composed man a hint of youthful carelessness. Brittany, in a white cocktail dress, leaned casually against the armrest of the sofa. They were so close they were almost touching. The suitcase was heavy, clattering loudly against the marble stairs. The few people in the living room paused, looking up at me. “Excuse me,” I offered a polite, strained smile, trying to lift the heavy case higher. Lucas took a few steps forward, pointing at my suitcase. “What do you think you’re doing?” His expression was as indifferent as ever, as if asking about something trivial. If not for the noise, and the fact it was Vivian’s birthday, he probably wouldn’t have even bothered to ask. I didn’t want to talk much with him, so I vaguely replied, “Just some work to take care of. I’ll be gone for a few days.” Lucas stepped closer, his expression cold. “Today is my mom’s birthday.” “It’s urgent business. I’ve already spoken with Vivian about it.” I tried to step around him, but he stood still, blocking my path, radiating displeasure. “When are you coming back?” I won’t be returning. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them. Saying something like that in this situation felt highly inappropriate. It was Brittany who spoke up, smiling sweetly: “Don’t you usually make a birthday cake for Vivian every year?” “Just because Lucas said a few things to you the other day, now you’re intentionally skipping her birthday?” “Anyone who didn’t know better would think the Hayes family had done something truly awful to you.” I pretended not to hear her words, pulled my suitcase, and quickly walked past both of them. Lucas wouldn’t let me go. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. A suffocating pressure filled the air, as if the temperature in the room had plummeted.

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After we got back together. I shed all the bad habits Julian Sterling hated. No more tracking his every move, no more getting jealous over nothing, no more sweating the small stuff. I even found a lipstick in the passenger seat that wasn’t mine. I carefully put it away for him. But Julian’s face darkened, and he slammed on the brakes. Julian had sharp, angular features and an intensity that instantly commanded attention, making him effortlessly intimidating. Yet at this moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking utterly exhausted. “That lipstick belongs to Cassie Davies.” “Last night, the business dinner ran late. She covered for me with drinks, couldn’t drive, so I dropped her off.” He looked at me, giving an explanation he usually disdained: “I’ve told you countless times, it’s only because she’s the daughter of a close family friend and business partner that I have to look out for her.” “Whether in the past, now, or in the future, there’s absolutely nothing between us.” Seeing my silence. His usually composed expression showed a rare crack. A hint of helplessness, something I’d never seen on his face, peeked through: “What will it take for you to believe me?” I calmly said, “Nothing, I believe you. I’m not angry.” Like a punch landing on a pillow, Julian’s expression went blank for a rare moment: “…Then why haven’t you said a word this whole time?” I glanced at my watch, calculating the time to the airport, and brushed him off: “You used to say you didn’t like hearing useless information.” “I’m going to be late for work. Why don’t you just drop me off at this intersection?” My focus was entirely on the road ahead, completely missing Julian’s face as it instantly turned grim. “You always get off at the next traffic light.” “It’s still two miles from our office here.” I hadn’t thought of that, forced to meet Julian’s scrutinizing gaze: “It’s early morning. If not to the office, where are you going?” Just as Julian’s hesitation deepened… “Ding—!” The exclusive ringtone, Cassie Davies. Julian’s sharp gaze retracted, his eyes darting around, a guilty attempt to appear innocent: “It’s a work call. I need to take it.” He immediately threw his suspicion of me out the window, unlocking the car: “Then you can get out here.” I nodded, quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, and he called out to me. “Don’t be so clumsy. Watch where you’re walking.” His voice softened behind me, a hint of coaxing. “That restaurant you always wanted to try? I booked it.” “I promised you before, I’ll never miss another anniversary.” “Happy seventh anniversary.” “Aurora, see you tonight.” My hand, on the car door, paused. The last anniversary, he’d left me for Cassie Davies. It hurt so much then, but now, recalling it, my heart felt strangely calm. “Go on, answer the phone,” I said softly, opening my mouth. “Don’t keep them waiting.” After all, Cassie Davies couldn’t wait. And neither could my plane. As for anniversaries. This year, next year, every year after that, I’d be absent.

I finally made it onto the plane. After settling into my seat, I felt a little dizzy, having missed breakfast. Habitually, I reached into my pocket and, sure enough, found three chocolates. Ever since I’d fainted from low blood sugar a long time ago. Every day, Julian would habitually put a few chocolates in my pocket. The sweetness melted on my tongue, and the dizziness quickly subsided. But then, a persistent, lingering bitterness crept up. Seven years together. How did Julian and I end up like this? At first, I truly believed Cassie Davies was just a ‘favor’ he had to do for a family friend, someone he brought into the company out of obligation. That’s why Julian had to be strictly professional with me at work multiple times, while giving her special treatment. My department head, Mr. Henderson, would constantly make my life miserable, and nothing would happen; but if he was even slightly curt with Cassie, he’d be fired. Everyone secretly nicknamed Cassie behind her back, calling her the future Mrs. Sterling even to me, Julian’s secret girlfriend. I forced myself to understand his difficulties, but this ‘special treatment’ extended to our home. Julian would repeatedly leave me for her phone calls. A furious argument erupted one night. I saw a photo in a colleague’s SnapChat group. Julian, who told me he was working late, was out watching a midnight movie with Cassie Davies. It was the exact movie I’d begged Julian to see with me multiple times, only to be ruthlessly rejected. I tugged on his sleeve, swaying, “Everyone watches it with their true love! Let’s go too!” Julian didn’t even bother to lift an eyelid, refusing, “Watching those mindless rom-coms is a waste of life.” But the man in the photo looked dashing, smiling brightly. Not a trace of impatience. The messages in the SnapChat group scrolled furiously, then blurred into a jumble before my eyes. When Julian came home, I asked him, my voice devoid of inflection: “Was ‘Ever After’ good?” A hint of surprise seemed to flash in his eyes. Or perhaps I was mistaken. He was utterly indifferent, expressionless: “Are you stalking me?” My heart felt heavy, suffocated, like a thick, wet towel pressed against it, stealing my breath. “Why would I need to stalk you?” “Your sweet photos with her are all over the company SnapChat group!” My chest heaved uncontrollably: “Julian, if you want to break up, just say so. You don’t need to lie to me like this!” Julian’s expression didn’t even change, calm as an outsider. “If you don’t even have basic trust in me, then I have nothing more to say.” “Aurora, I’ve had a long day. I don’t have the energy to argue with you.” No guilt, no explanation. Compared to my frantic state, he was so composed. He even remembered to place the paper bag in his hand steadily on the table. The words ‘Ever After’ on the paper bag were like icy daggers, plunging straight into my heart. All the emotions I’d suppressed for so long, mixed with a tidal wave of resentment, crashed down on me. Finally, it snapped the last thread of my sanity. I snatched the paper bag in a fit of rage, smashing it to the floor. It wasn’t sealed. The contents tumbled out, vying for release. Making a few soft thuds. I didn’t even look, just stared at Julian, my eyes red-rimmed. We met gazes, a silent standoff. After a long moment, he slammed the door and left. I stood there, stiff as a statue. Until something rolled to my feet. I looked down, startled. Chocolates. Handmade chocolates, scattered all over the floor.

I still caved. I wanted to talk to him properly. But for three whole days, Julian didn’t answer my calls and didn’t come home. Swallowing my hurt, I sent him a message. “It was wrong of me to lose my temper without communicating first.” “But it’s also true that you said you were working late but went to the movies with her.” “Tonight is our six-year anniversary. I’ll be waiting for you at home.” “Can we sit down and talk, please?” But I waited from morning till night, and he didn’t come back. As it approached eleven, I made up my mind to go to his office. On the way, I ran into Mr. Henderson, the department head Julian had fired because of Cassie. He grabbed me and dragged me into the shadows: “Damn it, I can’t go after *her*, but you’re fair game!” Repeated unanswered calls to my private number, desperate, hopeless cries for help. If a passerby hadn’t intervened and scared him off, my injuries wouldn’t have been limited to just a swollen, bruised face. When my phone suddenly rang. Like a startled bird, I let out a short, sharp scream. Seeing the name on the screen, my entire back, which I’d kept rigid all night, instantly collapsed. I almost cried out, a cry of pure relief: “Jul—” “Hello?” Cassie’s sweet, innocent voice purred: “Julian’s in the shower~” “I saw you called several times.” “May I ask who this is, and what’s the matter?” My throat felt like it was stuffed with burning coals. The raw, throbbing flesh felt seared, utterly ravaged. It hurt so much I wanted to tear out my own vocal cords. Hanging up the phone, such a simple act, seemed to drain all my strength. I limped, utterly humiliated, to the police station to report the assault. When everything was finally over, and my alarm clock read 00:01 the next day. I finally received a call from Julian. His tone was still so arrogant: “Realize your mistake?” I instantly understood, he had done it on purpose. All those unanswered calls on our “anniversary.” They were his punishment for my “lack of trust” in him. Tears streamed down my swollen face, burning like acid on an open wound. When I spoke, my voice was a raw, rasping whisper. I said, “Julian, let’s break up.” The other end of the line was silent for just one second. Julian scoffed, “Fine. Don’t regret it.” He hung up without hesitation. Agreeing to the breakup without a second thought.

At first, I just found it hard to sleep. I couldn’t help but repeatedly replay the details of our time together. I was terrified I’d misjudged him, condemned him unfairly. I started going back through our SnapChat messages again and again. But the more I looked, the sadder I became, the more resentful. I started to hate Julian. Six years, a whole six years. I hated that he’d discarded me so casually, like I was trash. At four in the morning, I painfully deleted all his accounts. I got up, and in a fit of anger, gathered all his belongings. Shoved them into a large trash bag and slammed it into the dumpster downstairs. After all that, I expected to feel relieved. But it was like painstakingly killing a mosquito that had been tormenting me, only to find it was my own blood that splattered. I went to work on time, as if nothing had happened. But only I knew that a huge chunk of my heart had been ripped out. That part of me had once belonged to Julian, but it had festered. To survive, I’d surgically removed that dead, rotting piece of my heart. But I forgot that if the wound was too big, a person couldn’t survive. The emotions came crashing back completely when I saw him at a company meeting. Julian was still unfazed, composed, and utterly in control. He looked even more vibrant, more confident. As if losing me had had absolutely no impact on him. Cassie Davies, thinking she was subtle, met his gaze, her face flushing slightly. I started having sleepless nights, throwing up everything I ate. Julian didn’t use social media. So I obsessively stalked Cassie’s social media accounts. Analyzing every signature, every post related to Julian. Until I fainted from low blood sugar at work and was rushed to the hospital. Julian deigned to visit me at the hospital. It was the twenty-ninth day since our breakup. He idly twirled our matching couple’s ring on his finger: “Aurora, you’ve lost weight.” My gaze was blank, and I spoke mechanically. “I’m sorry.” Julian offered a triumphant smile. We got back together. They say, “better a sharp sting than a slow bleed.” But that doesn’t apply to everyone.

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I uncovered Julian’s secret. There was a stunningly beautiful woman locked away in his house. Right now, I was peering through the crack of a door, watching him repeatedly whip her delicate body. The woman whimpered in low, choked sobs, but Julian showed no signs of stopping. In the dim light, the floor was mottled with bloodstains. “Please, just kill me. Let me go,” the woman pleaded, lifting a blood-smeared face, her eyes vacant as she stared at Julian. Julian sneered, grabbing her hair and slamming his fist into her face. 0 I recoiled in horror, stepping back and kicking a bottle. At that exact moment, Julian whipped his head around, his dark eyes fixating on where I was. Luckily, I had already ducked into a closet, so he didn’t see me. Julian pushed the door open and walked out. His profile was chillingly grim. I hid in the closet, barely daring to breathe. Julian slowly turned his head, and I saw his gaze linger on my hiding spot. My heart hammered against my ribs. Thankfully, Julian only looked for a few seconds before moving his eyes and walking back inside. This time, I heard him lock the door. From inside, the woman’s terrified screams erupted. I didn’t dare come out, trembling in my hiding place. Fifteen minutes later, Julian emerged. I watched his every move through the gap in the closet door. Julian coolly lit a cigarette. Then, with a look of pure disgust and indifference, he stripped off his clothes, revealing the toned physique that once made my heart race. He went upstairs. He also locked the basement door. I was trapped in the basement by Julian. Only when the sounds from upstairs completely faded did I crawl out of the closet. Today was our hundred-day anniversary. I had planned to surprise Julian by sneaking into his house early, but I never imagined I’d stumble upon such a horrifying scene. I was utterly terrified. I wanted to go in and check on the woman’s injuries, but the door was securely fastened with a heavy lock. The woman was still alive. I could hear faint moans. Lowering my voice, I whispered through the door, “Don’t worry, I’ll call the police and get you out.” The moans from inside instantly ceased. Clearly, the person inside was shocked by my presence. Then, broken, hesitant words came from within. “No…don’t call the police.” I didn’t understand. Why couldn’t I call the police? Even though I still loved Julian, this was clearly illegal confinement. I knelt down and peered through the door crack. I saw a pair of dark, bloodshot eyes. The woman was also lying on the floor, staring directly at me. “You’re his…girlfriend?” the woman said with effort. I nervously mumbled, “Yeah.” The woman continued with difficulty, “I know where he keeps the keys here. They’re in that red bucket over there, there’s a spare key.” Following the woman’s instructions, I went to a red metal bucket. Sure enough, I found a key. And many burnt photos. I picked up the key and these photos, almost all burned in half. The pictures were gruesome. They showed the horrific states of various women before they died, along with severed limbs. “Your boyfriend is a sick serial killer,” the woman’s voice came from inside the room. 0

I didn’t want to believe Julian was a murderer. He was always so nice, and his smile was incredibly charming. We first met at a coffee shop. Sunlight had spilled onto Julian’s almost translucent face, and on a whim, I walked up and asked for his SnapChat. As a boyfriend, Julian was attentive to my every need. But now, the stark evidence lay before me. The woman’s voice was hoarse and grating, like sandpaper. “He likes to date young girls, play the perfect boyfriend, then trap his prey here and slowly torture them to death.” “I don’t think I’ll last much longer. He’s already getting bored with me. You’re his next victim.” “It’s Sunday night. He has his regular Sunday evening church service. You can use this time to escape.” “Any later…and you won’t get out. Have you ever heard the fairy tale of Bluebeard?” I had heard the story of Bluebeard. Duke Bluebeard married a new bride and told her not to go into the innermost room, handing her the key. But the bride couldn’t suppress her curiosity and entered the room. She saw several hanging corpses – Bluebeard’s previous wives. The bride was terrified, dropping the key into blood, but she could never wash it clean. 0 The woman let out a strange laugh. “He’s marked this door. Once you’ve been here, he’ll know the moment he sees you.” I instinctively looked down at my hand. There was a deep blue mark, strikingly obvious. I tried to wipe it off with my clothes, but it had no effect at all. “You’re probably trying to wipe off that mark, just like I was. It’s useless.” “It’s methylene blue, used for cell staining. There’s no way to get that mark off for at least a week,” the woman said with difficulty. I started to panic. “Why can’t I call the police?” I asked. At the mention of “police,” the woman’s voice suddenly became agitated and fragmented. “No, absolutely not! If you call the police, we’ll both die!” Just then, I heard a sound from upstairs. It sounded like a car pulling into the driveway.

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