My father told me I had to choose a strategic alliance between the Maxwells and the Forresters. I had just turned toward Holden Maxwell when, like a glitch in my vision, a massive text overlay flashed in the air. [Get lost, side character! Holden only has eyes for the heroine, Kira!] [He swore he’d only marry Kira! If you choose him, he’ll run off and join a monastery!] Startled, I shifted my gaze to Tatum “Tate” Forrester. The text overlay immediately updated. [Don’t choose Tate either! Kira is the only antidote for the volatile Tate!] [You dare split them up, and he’ll have a stress migraine on your wedding night and choke you to death!!] I flinched, quickly pulling my attention away. Then, a new message popped up. [Why doesn’t the side character consider Ezra Shaw?] I paused. Ezra Shaw? The high-society big shot who’d been in a coma for years? [He’s about to wake up! He met the side character once, years ago, and he’s been obsessed with her ever since!] [Speaking of which, Ezra is actually the Big Bad! The Inner Circle is about to change. When he returns, he’s coming for the Maxwells and the Forresters!] That was all the information I needed. I immediately told my father. “Dad! I don’t want either of them!” “I’m marrying Ezra Shaw!” … 1 The moment the words left my mouth, my father cut me off. “Nonsense!” He then offered an apologetic smile to Holden and Tate. “I’ve spoiled my daughter. Let’s put this decision on hold for now.” The two men bowed respectfully to excuse themselves, but their eyes were heavy with barely concealed contempt. Once they were gone, my father’s expression grew serious. “Ezra Shaw has been in a coma for so long. The Shaw family has tried everything.” He sighed, seeing me look down. “You’re my only daughter, Rory. I can’t let you marry a vegetable and wait for someone who may never wake up!” “You grew up with Holden and Tate. You always said you’d marry one of them. Now you don’t like them?” The text overlay chimed in with confusion. [Yeah, shouldn’t the side character be desperately trying to hook one of the two Male Leads?] [It’s just a trick to get their attention! She always loves to see them fight over her, doesn’t she?!] [Ugh, if she was serious about Ezra, that would be great. He’s going to wake up in two weeks!] [Right, but whether Kira marries Tate or Holden, both families are already stretching their limits. Once the Big Bad Ezra is back, their good days are over.] My gaze locked onto the text. I steeled myself. “Dad, just give me a month.” “If Ezra Shaw hasn’t woken up in one month, I will choose the Maxwell or Forrester alliance quietly. Besides, our family already has an old commitment to the Shaws. Even if they don’t mention it, we can’t just easily go back on our word.” My father, unable to argue with my logic, reluctantly agreed. I finally let out a breath and headed out to the patio for some air. I found Holden and Tate hadn’t left. Holden spoke first, his tone mocking. “Done with your little scene?” “We’ve told you repeatedly that Kira is our soulmate, but we’d still do the right thing and marry you. Isn’t that enough?” He shook his head. “You’re making a fuss over nothing.” Tate rubbed his head, frowning. “You want to marry Ezra Shaw?” He scoffed. “Do you even believe that garbage?” He looked me up and down with undisguised scorn. “You’re just trying to make us beg you to stay. You’re exhausting, completely unlike the sweet, compliant Kira.” Even though the text overlay had already shown me the truth, the depth of their dismissal froze my heart. Holden checked his watch, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. “Right, enough. I don’t have time for your drama.” “You want to marry the comatose guy? Fine. You better follow through.” The text overlay flew past. [Holden and Tate are going to dinner with Kira!] [Sweet, sweet, sweet! Side character, get lost!] [She knows they both love Kira, but she’s still trying to force a marriage! If she ends up miserable, it’s her own fault!] I lowered my eyes. If my ending had already been scripted, why would I walk toward the disaster they wrote for me? Holden Maxwell and Tate Forrester. I wanted neither of them. My father quickly arranged things with the Shaw family. The next morning, the Shaws sent a car to pick me up. Mrs. Shaw took my hand. “Dear child, we never intended to break the alliance.” “Ezra’s been in a coma for years. It’s our family that’s wronged yours; we couldn’t keep Aurora tethered to this.” I looked at Ezra Shaw, lying in the hospital bed, his eyes closed. I took a deep breath and spoke the lie. “Actually, when I was little, a spiritual teacher told me I had a special fate.” “They said I had a deep spiritual connection—a power to ward off misfortune and add to a person’s life karma.” I kept my voice serious. “I want to go to a chapel for one month, to pray and clear bad karma for Ezra.” The text overlay floated over my vision. [??? Since when did the side character have this setting?] [Spiritual connection? It wasn’t in the original book!!] [Ezra is going to wake up, but what does that have to do with the side character?] 2 Of course, I made it up. Regardless of what my original fate was, if I could foretell the future, I would certainly use it to secure the best outcome for myself and the Kincaid family. Mrs. Shaw covered her mouth, fighting back a sob. “If Ezra truly wakes up, Rory, you will be the Shaw family’s savior.” I performed a ritual cleanse—three days of bathing and burning incense—before settling into the chapel to copy sutras for Ezra’s fortune. I never expected to run into Holden Maxwell and Kira Bellweather here. Holden’s voice was sharp. “What are you doing here? Stalking me?” I paused, then laughed. “Did you buy the lease on this chapel?” Kira stood beside him, clutching a necklace with a cross. She offered a soft explanation. “Rory, please don’t misunderstand.” “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so Holden brought me here to pray.” She paused deliberately. “I never expected to run into you by chance, of all places.” The text overlay instantly “understood.” [Is she here because she knows Holden would join a monastery if he was forced to marry her?] [How would she know? Is she actually stalking him?] [She’s so shameless! No wonder she’s pretending to be some spiritual savior!] Holden clearly found the “coincidences” sickening. In his mind, I must have been scouting the location, planning to descend on him the moment he decided to become a monk, to keep badgering him. He was convinced I would choose him for the alliance, and he cursed under his breath. “…I must have the worst damn luck.” Kira understood and looked at him, her eyes reddening. “Holden, perhaps we’re not meant to be in this life… I really shouldn’t hold you back…” Holden’s face completely hardened, and he looked at me with open disgust. “Since you already know, I won’t play games.” “I will marry you.” “But the day after the wedding, I’m checking into this monastery and becoming a monk. I’ll spend the rest of my life here, praying for Kira’s well-being.” I didn’t even look up. I simply waved my hand dismissively. “Be my guest.” He spun around and stormed off, enraged. I copied sutras for two full weeks at the chapel. On the fifteenth day, the text overlay suddenly began to flash wildly. [Ezra is waking up today!] Sure enough, that afternoon, the Shaw family arrived to bring me back. The car sped to the hospital. I pushed open the door and met a pair of clear, warm eyes. Ezra Shaw was propped up in bed, looking thin but alert. “Rory, I don’t know how to thank you.” “Let’s set the wedding date this month, okay?” The room fell silent. Mrs. Shaw instinctively interjected. “Ezra, you just woke up. Your body hasn’t recovered—” “That’s exactly why we should set it.” Ezra was firm. “Rory and I agreed on one month. I don’t want to delay her any longer.” He paused, then smiled gently at me. “For the wedding planning, I’ll leave the details to you and my mother. Your wishes and preferences come first.” I nodded. “What about you?” He patted his thin legs with a wry look. “I need to go into seclusion for rehabilitation.” “I won’t make any public appearances for now.” “I intend to get back on my feet as quickly as possible, so I can walk down the aisle and marry you with dignity.” The text overlay was a chaotic mess. [Did the side character actually choose Ezra? How is this possible?] [Um… Does this mean we were wrong to insult the side character?] [And Holden and Tate still don’t believe she’s not marrying them. They seriously look like two ridiculously arrogant guys…] [Look at Ezra! His smile hasn’t left his face since he saw the side character!] The Shaws kept things quiet, but the entire family was clearly ecstatic. With time running short, Mr. and Mrs. Shaw were swamped. They assigned their most senior, trusted butler to accompany me to a high-end jewelry auction to select a wedding ring. When the main diamond was unveiled, I gave a nod. The Shaw family immediately invoked the final, sealed bid clause. The manager was bringing the item over for me to try on when I heard the familiar voices. 3 “Holden, Tate, I love that centerpiece diamond!” “We’ll order two custom men’s rings later, and we can all wear them.” Kira Bellweather had an arm looped through each of theirs. She pointed to the display box in the manager’s hand and commanded, “Bring that centerpiece diamond over for me to try on!” The manager looked deeply awkward. I slowly raised my hand, admiring the massive pigeon-egg blue diamond on my ring finger. “I made the sealed bid. Why would he let her try it on?” Holden saw it was me and sneered. “Didn’t you agree to wait a month for the Shaw cripple? You couldn’t wait that long to look at a wedding ring?” “Rory Kincaid, are you playing both sides? Does the Shaw family know you’re two-timing?” The senior Shaw butler’s face darkened, and he started to reach for his phone to call Mrs. Shaw. I waved him off, indicating I had it handled. “When did I ever say I was buying a ring to marry you?” I met Kira’s eyes. “Ms. Bellweather, have you passed the asset check? Are you even qualified to be in this auction house? Do you know how much it costs to override a sealed bid?” Kira’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Ms. Kincaid is right. I shouldn’t be here.” “I’ll just go…” She said the words, but she didn’t move an inch. The text overlay’s opinion began to shift. [Doesn’t Kira seem a little manipulative? Is this really our Kira…?] [She says she’s leaving, so why isn’t she leaving? Waiting for the two guys to hold her back?] [Wow, side character is so cool! I’m changing teams!] Tate exploded with fury. “What’s with the attitude?” “You just won the birth lottery, Rory. Who are you to look down on Kira?” I smiled. “I not only look down on her, I look down on you.” “You two are all bluster. If you can actually afford it, I’ll happily let you have the ring.” He started to nod, but choked when he saw the long string of zeroes on the final sale price. They hadn’t officially taken over their family companies yet. Their personal allowances were large compared to average people, but they were nothing next to the liquid assets of the Shaw family. Holden’s face was dark. He actually reached out as if to snatch the box. “You’re pathetic. You spent your life savings on a diamond just to marry me.” “Let me tell you, our wedding must be pushed to next month.” “I won’t have Kira slandered after we marry, so I’m going to register our marriage and have a small ceremony with her first.” Before I could reply, Holden stated his demand forcefully. “This isn’t a discussion, it’s a notice.” [What is this guy saying? What a scumbag!] [Anyone defending Holden, I hope your fiancé registers his marriage with another woman before your wedding!] [Side character, run! Lock the scum and the manipulator in a box and throw away the key!] “Done.” I agreed instantly. Holden’s next words died in his throat. He looked stunned for a moment before reacting. “You… you agreed?” I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away. Then, I immediately spread the absurd story about the three of them—the two male leads getting matching wedding bands with Kira—throughout the Inner Circle. Tate was a volatile hothead, but Holden’s family was taking a public relations beating. Mr. Maxwell was furious. Holden, in a classic self-destructive move, decided to embrace the chaos and took Tate and Kira on a pre-wedding honeymoon. He didn’t forget to send me an invitation. I glanced at it. How convenient. The same day, the same hotel. I ignored their antics, focused only on my wedding preparations. Until the day before the ceremony. I was at the hotel for the rehearsal when I heard someone call out behind me. “…Rory Kincaid?” 4 Kira Bellweather stared at the ballroom behind me. The crystal chandeliers were blinding, the stage expansive. It was the Grand Vista, clearly the main venue. Meanwhile, her wedding— It was set for a tiny, corner conference room. Holden had insisted on keeping it quiet to “avoid bad publicity.” The fury and resentment in her eyes were almost palpable. “You’re… you’re also getting married tomorrow?” I corrected her. “I’m getting married. Not just engaged.” She spoke as if she hadn’t heard, her voice rising sharply. “Did you have to choose this day? Are you doing this on purpose!” “Ms. Bellweather, I already told you I wasn’t going to choose Holden for the alliance.” “Do you even believe that lie?!” She shrieked, cutting me off. “You deliberately chose our wedding day to host your own in the biggest ballroom—” “If you’re not targeting me, who are you targeting?!” I looked at her, finding the whole thing absurd. “Do you really think I care about you that much?” The sentence instantly twisted Kira’s features. “How dare you say that to me?!” “Holden has to marry you, but so what?” “He and Tate love me most! They’ll always put me first!” I laughed, the sound sharp and sarcastic. “Oh, is that so?” “They love you so much they’re making you the dirty little side piece that has to hide in a closet? You’re so lucky!” Kira was shaking with rage. She suddenly raised her hand. I instinctively moved aside. Her slap missed, and the force threw her off balance. She slammed into the makeup vanity. The mirror shattered with a crash. Glass scattered everywhere. She fell to the floor, her dress ripped, and blood quickly began to seep from cuts on her arm and leg. The backroom door burst open.

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I was the middle child, the one our family learned to look right through. The Invisible Man. My older brother, Jason, and my younger sister, Charlie, had their birthdays circled in permanent marker on the kitchen calendar. Mine was a date my parents perpetually forgot. Jason got the latest sports jacket, Charlie had her princess dresses, but somehow, they always “meant” to buy me new clothes and just… ran out of time. Jason and Charlie got crisp holiday cash envelopes every year; my pocket was always empty. And today, on the highway heading to Grandma Carol’s for the New Year’s celebration, with the temperature plunging below zero, my parents had, once again, forgotten me at a desolate rest stop. 1 I was coming out of the men’s room when I saw Jason and Charlie climbing into the car. I hurried to follow, but before I could reach the door handle, the engine started. I broke into a run, shouting into the frigid air. “Dad! Mom! I’m not in the car yet!” But the car accelerated, taking the exit ramp and merging swiftly into the river of traffic until it disappeared completely. I stood there, staring at the empty patch of road where they’d vanished. My lips moved silently, repeating the words that felt too small for the moment. “Dad, Mom, I’m not in the car…” The sound was a wisp of smoke, shredded by the biting wind before it could even leave my mouth, scattering across the empty parking lot. In the next second, the last residual thread of shock and disappointment was quickly overlaid by a cold, heavy numbness. I slowly dropped my gaze and looked around. The vast rest stop was eerily quiet. Under the sickly yellow glow of the streetlamps, the sky was a featureless white haze. I couldn’t see a single soul. On the highway in the distance, headlights streaked past in blurred ribbons, the rush of traffic a constant roar, but not one car slowed down for me. I was too scared to wander. My feet felt anchored in place, filled with a leaden weight, holding onto a faint, desperate hope. Maybe they hadn’t driven far. Maybe they would realize I was missing and immediately double back to find me. I clenched my fists inside my worn jacket pockets, staring at the exit ramp, praying over and over for the familiar sight of our white sedan. It was getting colder. The chill wasn’t just on my skin; it felt like it was seeping into my bone marrow, cooling me from the inside out. My toes were already numb, slowly losing all sensation. My cheeks were wind-chapped and aching. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn’t help. Nobody was coming to comfort me. Finally, unable to bear the wind any longer, I shuffled back toward the restroom. At least indoors, it offered some meager shield from the cold. In the silent bathroom, the only sounds were my shallow breathing and the howl of the wind outside. All the suppressed hurts—the ones I was too “good” to mention—flooded in like a tidal wave, drowning me completely. I thought about last year’s birthday, the one they forgot entirely. It took Mom three days to remember after she finally saw the calendar. She quickly boiled me a bowl of ramen with one fried egg on top. “There. Happy belated birthday, Nelson. Eat up.” She said it without taking her eyes off the TV. For Jason’s birthday, the whole family went to his favorite ski resort. The custom-made cake said, Our Pride and Joy. Charlie’s birthday was even bigger—an entire class party, presents piled up like a small mountain. Jason was the “responsible older brother,” the one Dad bragged about. Charlie was the “little princess,” spoiled and adored. And me? “Nelson is a good boy. He never makes a fuss.” That was my label. Like a faint pattern on the wallpaper, I was technically present, but utterly unnoticed. I sat there for what felt like hours. The small warmth I’d managed to trap was fading, and my body began to shiver again. Just as I was on the verge of losing awareness from the cold, I heard faint footsteps outside the door. My heart leaped, jolting me back to full alertness. I instinctively lifted my head, my eyes fixed on the entrance. Was it Dad? 2 Had he finally noticed and come back? The door creaked open. But the person who walked in was a stranger—a middle-aged man in a thick, dark parka. The light in my eyes dimmed instantly. A small, self-mocking smile touched my lips. Of course. I’d let myself hope again. The man was clearly surprised to see me, a small boy sitting alone in a remote rest stop restroom. He looked me up and down and spoke in a gentle voice. “Hey there, kiddo. Are you all alone? Where are your folks?” Hearing the word “folks,” my throat tightened. I swallowed back the tears, my voice raspy. “Sir, I… I got left behind. Could I please borrow your phone to call them?” His expression immediately softened with concern. He quickly pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “Go on, go on. It’s freezing out here. You’ll catch a chill.” I took the phone, my fingers stiff with cold, fumbling and hitting the wrong numbers several times. Finally, I entered the right number for the home line, took a deep breath, and pressed dial. The ringing was a hollow doo-doo-doo, each sound a fearful beat against my ribs, a terrifying mixture of hope and anxiety. The line went dead. No one answered. My hand holding the phone trembled slightly. The tiny flicker of hope inside me cooled even further. Mr. Harrison—that was the name on his jacket—watched me. He offered a soft assurance. “Don’t worry, kid. Maybe the service is bad. Try again.” I nodded, my frozen fingertip hitting the redial button. I pressed the phone tightly to my ear, praying that this time I would hear my mother’s voice. The wait tone felt agonizingly long. My breath hitched and fell with each ring. On the seventh ring, the call connected. Mom’s voice came through, muffled by wind noise and car radio music. “Hello?” The tension that had coiled in my chest snapped. My eyes instantly welled up. All the fear and misery stuck in my throat, my voice barely a whisper. “Mom… I’m not in the car. You left me at the rest stop.” Her rebuttal was immediate and sharp, laced with annoyed certainty. “That’s impossible! I specifically asked Jason and Charlie if everyone was in before we left! They said yes! How could we have left you?” The line went silent for a brief moment. I could picture her turning around, craning her neck to look at the empty back seat. Those few seconds of silence were colder than the wind outside. I expected panic. I expected guilt. What came next was a searing accusation. “Nelson, why didn’t you say anything before we drove off? Couldn’t you have yelled louder?” “You wait until we’re past the toll booth to call? What a nuisance!” The icy words were like tiny needles, puncturing the last balloon of my expectation. I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing the tears back, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “I did yell… I ran after you and shouted, but you didn’t hear me. The car just drove around the corner.” My defense made her pause, but only for a second. The silence vanished, and she latched onto a new excuse to blame me. “Well, that’s your fault for being so slow!” “I told you to hurry up, but you always dawdle. Now we’re past the exit, we can’t just turn around on the freeway! How are we supposed to come back for you?” Then, Jason’s voice cut in from the background, a note of self-satisfied, careless mischief in his tone. “It’s his own fault for being so slow! I even told him to hurry. Now look at him.” I gripped the phone, my knuckles white, a fresh wave of anger and shame washing over me. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had shoved me out of the way to get his spot first, and then he had bumped me, making me drop my gloves so I had to re-button my coat. And now he was pinning the blame on me. Next, Charlie’s small, petulant voice piped up, dripping with spoiled entitlement. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to go back! I want to get to Grandma’s house and have the gingerbread cookies!” Just as I felt the dam of my tears about to break, Dad’s low voice came through. There was no warmth in his tone, only cold, detached logistical planning. “Enough arguing. Your Uncle Mark is driving back to Grandma’s today, too. He’s on the same route as us.” “You stay put right where you are. Don’t move. Wait for him. He’ll pick you up.” “But Dad, I don’t know Uncle Mark’s car. When is he—?” The dial tone cut me off. The line was dead. 3 I stood holding the phone, stunned. The tears I’d been fighting finally broke through, splattering onto the cold screen, chilling it instantly. Mr. Harrison gently patted my shoulder. He sighed. “Son, don’t take it so hard. Tell you what, why don’t you come to my place first? I can call your parents again from there. We’re about to get off the highway, so I can’t take you all the way, but it’s warm and safe.” I thought of Mom and Dad’s sharp impatience. I shook my head, declining his kindness. “No, thank you, sir. They said my uncle is coming soon. I just need to wait here.” I knew they wouldn’t want to turn around, not now. And Uncle Mark and I were never close. Asking him to drive out of his way to pick me up would only make him resent me. Mr. Harrison opened his mouth to say something else, but his own phone rang. It was probably his family rushing him. He looked at me with deep concern, then reached into his bag, pulled out several small bags of beef jerky, and stuffed them into my hand. Then, he unwound the thick, dark scarf from his own neck and wrapped it tightly around mine. “Keep this. It’ll help keep you warm. Eat the jerky to keep your stomach full. If you have to wait too long, find another person to call them, but you absolutely cannot leave this area, you hear?” I nodded hard, choked out a muffled “Thank you, sir.” His hurried form disappeared through the door. The empty rest stop was mine again. The arctic wind still whistled through the door cracks, but the scarf around my neck gradually started to generate a small, bearable warmth. My stomach rumbled. I tore open one bag of jerky and nibbled a tiny, careful piece. I couldn’t afford to eat much. I folded the rest neatly and tucked it into my pocket, thinking that if the wait stretched on, this might be all I had to survive on. I pulled the borrowed scarf tighter and instinctively pulled my jacket closed. Underneath, I was wearing Jason’s old sweater from last year. The collar was stretched out and misshapen from too many washes, the cuffs frayed. Jason didn’t want it anymore, and Mom said it was “good enough” for me. Jason, meanwhile, was bundled up in a brand-new black puffer coat, the hood lined with thick, rich fur. He looked like a handsome, proud knight. Charlie had a new pink-and-white down jacket that made her look like a cheerful little marshmallow. Only I, in my brother’s hand-me-downs, was a muted, faded shadow. Afraid Uncle Mark would drive past without seeing me, I gritted my teeth and stepped out of the restroom, back into the bitter wind. The light from the streetlamps grew dimmer as the sky deepened to a heavy gray. Isolated flakes of snow began to fall, landing on my hair and shoulders, instantly melting into icy water. I stared at the direction of the oncoming traffic, stomping my frozen feet to try and generate warmth, rubbing my stiff hands together inside the scarf, repeating the prayer for Uncle Mark to arrive soon. Car after car rushed past, the headlights blinding me, but not one pulled into the rest stop. The snow picked up, dusting a thin layer onto the dark scarf. I wrapped it tighter. The salty taste of the jerky was long gone, replaced by anxiety and an escalating, consuming cold. I had no idea how much longer I’d have to wait, or if Uncle Mark would even remember to come. I just knew the freezing wind was slowly turning my entire body to stone in this empty place. 4 Time stretched out into a meaningless expanse of cold and hunger. I stood beneath the dim streetlamp. My hands and feet had lost all feeling, replaced by a constant, paralyzing ache. I had been shivering earlier, but now I barely had the energy to do even that. A strange, new discomfort began to take hold. My head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, heavy and throbbing. I couldn’t hold it up. My heart was pounding—thump, thump, thump—like a frantic drumbeat against my chest, making it hard to catch my breath. My stomach was empty and now started to cramp with pain. Was I just too hungry? My hands shaking, I pulled the remaining half-bag of jerky from my pocket. Forgetting all caution, I crammed the whole piece into my mouth. The salty-savory flavor barely managed to quell the panic, but the sensation of being faint and top-heavy intensified. A shiver ran through me, a coldness far deeper than before—it felt like it was radiating from my bones. I tightened the scarf, but the warmth felt utterly useless, instantly absorbed by some invisible, internal void. Just as I felt I was about to fall, a black sedan approached from the distance and slowly pulled up to the rest stop entrance. Grasping at a final lifeline, I forced myself to move, using the last of my strength to stumble toward it. The driver rolled down the window—another stranger, an older man. “Sir… could I borrow your phone again? I… I don’t feel well.” My voice was so weak I could barely hear it myself. The man, Mr. Davis, paused, then quickly handed me his cell phone. “Kid, what’s wrong? You look pale.” I didn’t have the strength to explain. My fingers, still stiff, managed to punch in Dad’s number. This time, he answered immediately. “Dad…” My voice was a choked sob. “When… when is Uncle Mark coming? I feel so sick… my head is spinning, and my heart is pounding so fast… Am I sick?” Dad’s voice, clear and irritated, came back. “What is it now? I told you to wait, didn’t I? Your uncle left ages ago, he’s probably just stuck in traffic, he’ll be there any minute!” “Can’t you wait for five minutes? Whose fault is it that you missed the car? Now you know how to complain about being uncomfortable?” “No, Dad, I really am sick…” My weak protest was lost on him. “Just stop it! Stop being a nuisance! Wait quietly! It’s a holiday, Nelson, stop creating problems!” The line went dead again, the busy signal stabbing my ear like an icicle. I opened my mouth to say I couldn’t hold on anymore, but the click had already severed the connection. I stood there, phone in hand, too stunned even to hand it back to Mr. Davis. He gently took the phone from me. “Don’t rush, your family is almost here. Why don’t you sit in my car and warm up?” I shook my head, afraid that if I moved, Uncle Mark would miss me. I managed a strained “Thank you, sir,” and slowly shuffled back to my original spot. After an unknown stretch of time, my body’s frantic trembling subsided. My heart slowed down. But there was no relief. My limbs felt heavy and disconnected, rigid and unresponsive. I wanted to stomp my feet to warm them, but lifting my legs required too much effort; my movements were in slow motion. Night had fully fallen. I stared blankly at the road, my vision blurring, my consciousness beginning to drift. I gritted my teeth and used every last ounce of will to move, inching along the edge of the rest stop building. Breathing… was becoming difficult. It felt like someone was squeezing my throat or a heavy boulder was resting on my chest. I gasped, struggling to pull in air, but each intake was shallow and fast, never enough. My vision fractured. The streetlamps were swimming halos of light. My knees buckled. I sank to the freezing concrete, curling into a tight ball. The scarf slipped halfway down my chest, but I couldn’t summon the energy to pull it back up. I was so tired… My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and my mind was sinking into a deep, dark well. In a hazy moment, I thought I saw Mom and Dad running toward me from the distance, their faces etched with panic. Just before I finally closed my eyes, one last thought surfaced in my mind: It’s okay. They finally came for me.

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My phone buzzed. I was mid-meeting, pitching a new feature to the executive team, but I risked a glance at the screen. The family group chat. Adam had tagged me, attaching an Excel file. I tapped it open. The first cell: Jenna Thorne – Itemized Debt Ledger. Below it were 237 densely packed lines, dating from a $5 coffee I bought five years ago during our first year of marriage, all the way up to the $180 puffer coat he got me last winter. Every single penny. The final row, highlighted in red: TOTAL DUE: $180,000.00. My hand shook, rattling the phone against the table. My colleagues kept debating the implementation timeline, their words a muffled, distant sound. I couldn’t hear a thing. I closed the spreadsheet. Another message popped up in the chat. Adam: Repayment expected within 30 days. I stared at the sentence, and a sudden, hysterical laugh caught in my throat. Five years. In his eyes, I was just a debtor. 1. The meeting ended. I shut my laptop, the screen going black. My phone vibrated again, this time a direct call from my mother, Laura. “Jenna, what on earth is that spreadsheet Adam sent to the group?” I took a deep, steadying breath, then called her back. “Mom, it’s nothing. I’m handling it.” “What is wrong with that boy? Five years of marriage, and he’s calculating every cent?” My mother’s voice was tight with shock. “Don’t worry about it. I know what to do.” A text came in from my best friend, Samara (Sam). Sam: I saw the group message. Are you okay? Me: I’m fine. Sam: He’s lost his mind, right? Posting a ledger like that? Me: He probably thought it was perfectly reasonable. Samara sent a string of furious, all-caps emojis. I didn’t reply. I gathered my things and headed out. In the elevator, I ran into Mike, one of the HR directors. “Jenna, you look pale. Is the Q3 launch stressing you out?” “I’m fine, Mike. Thanks for the concern.” The doors opened and I stepped onto the street. The New York rush hour subway was predictably jammed. I stood pressed into a corner, completely isolated in the crush of people, and opened the ledger again. I scrolled down. 11/08/2019: Wedding Favors (My side of the guests) – $800.00 12/24/2019: Christmas Eve Coffee (Grande Latte) – $6.50 03/14/2020: Valentine’s Day Chocolates – $55.00 06/01/2020: Plush Toy (Gag Gift) – $22.00 Every item was there. It included the prenatal vitamins, the specialty tea, the maternity clothes, even the organic strawberries he’d bought me during my ten months of pregnancy. All accounted for. I lowered the phone and closed my eyes. The train announced the next stop: “”Grand Central. Transfer to the 4, 5, 6…”” I stayed put. I rode to the end of the line, then rode the train back. It was nine p.m. when I finally got home. Adam was on the couch, scrolling through his phone. “You’re home?” “Mhm.” I walked over and stood directly in front of him. “I saw the ledger you sent.” He set his phone down and turned his head up to me. “Good. I was meticulous. I didn’t overcharge you by a single dime.” “One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.” “Yes. That’s the amount I’ve spent on you over the last five years.” He said it so matter-of-factly. “You clear about $25,000 a month. You can pay it off in six or seven months.” I just stared at him. This man. My husband of five years. “You think this is reasonable?” “Of course, it is. We agreed to keep our finances separate, didn’t we? It’s our version of bill splitting.” “I don’t recall agreeing to this version of bill splitting.” “Well, you should have paid attention.” Adam stood up. “Jenna, we’re adults. Keeping a clear account ensures neither of us is taken advantage of. It’s fair.” “Fair?” “Yes. Modern couples should be practical.” I finally laughed—a short, sharp bark. “Did you know my mother called me, her voice shaking, today?” “Your mother is just old-fashioned.” “You posted that in the family group chat, Adam. Both our parents saw it.” “Perfect. Saves me having to explain it later.” I turned toward the bedroom. “Jenna, when are you going to pay?” I stopped at the doorway, not turning back. “I’ll think about it.” I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned my back against it. My son, Toby, was asleep, his face rosy and peaceful. He was three years old, unaware that his father was calculating his mother’s value in the living room. I walked to his bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. I opened my phone and looked at the spreadsheet one more time. 237 line items. Five years. An average of four transactions logged every single month. Me: Do you think this marriage is salvageable? Samara replied instantly: Are you thinking about divorce? Me: I don’t know. Samara: If you are, I’ve got your back. I turned off my phone and lay down on my side of the bed. There was a faint crack running across the ceiling. I stared at it for a long time. Five years. I thought we were partners. He thought I was a line item on his balance sheet. 2. Saturday morning, I took Toby to my parents’ house. “Jenna, that debt statement…” My mother looked at me, struggling to find the words. “Mom, I’ve got it under control.” “Adam wasn’t always like this,” she sighed. My father, Frank, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “What’s your next move?” “I haven’t decided yet.” “Then don’t rush.” Dad’s eyes met mine. “But you need to understand, this isn’t about the money.” I nodded. I went home in the afternoon. Adam wasn’t there. I booted up his work computer. The password was his birthday—he’d never changed it. There was a folder on the desktop titled: Household Financials – MASTER. I clicked it open. Inside were over a dozen spreadsheets. The first was the “”Jenna Thorne Debt Ledger”” he’d sent to the chat. The second: Family Expenses Log (Adam’s Share). I opened it. Row 1: 11/2019 – 11/2024: Mortgage Payments Totaled $480,000. My contribution: $240,000. Row 2: General Living Expenses: My monthly average contribution $3,000. Five-year total: $180,000. Row 3: Child Expenses: My monthly average contribution $2,000. Three-year total: $72,000. … I scrolled down. Every contribution was itemized and logged. Then I clicked on the third file: Family Expenses Log (Jenna’s Share). Row 1: General Living Expenses: Jenna’s monthly average contribution $5,000. Five-year total: $300,000. Row 2: Child Expenses: Jenna’s monthly average contribution $7,000. Three-year total: $252,000. … I did the quick math. By his own accounting, I had contributed over $800,000 to the shared family fund over five years. He had contributed just over $500,000. Yet his public ledger only accounted for the $180,000 he’d spent directly on me. I kept digging. There was another folder, simply titled Personal Assets. I opened it. A screenshot of a bank account. Balance: $285,000. In the transaction history, several large deposits stood out. 01/2020: Christmas Bonus from Mom – $50,000. 01/2021: Birthday Gift from Mom – $50,000. 05/2023: Medical Expense Reimbursement (Mom) – $50,000. I froze at that last one: Medical Expense Reimbursement (Mom). I remembered May of last year. Adam’s mother, Ruth, had a serious health scare. Adam had asked me for $50,000. He’d said, “It’s my mother. You’re my wife. It’s only right that we split the major costs.” I transferred the $50,000 without a second thought. Her hospital stay cost $130,000 in total. Adam had told me he’d covered the remaining $80,000. Now I knew the truth. He’d only covered $30,000. His mother had reimbursed him $50,000 after being released. My $50,000, however, was gone. I closed the laptop. I walked to the balcony. Outside, a light, cold rain was falling. It was a bleak New York autumn. I suddenly recalled the $180 puffer coat from his ledger. He’d insisted on paying for it that day, saying, “Let me take care of this one.” I had felt touched by the gesture. Now I knew the cost was in his ledger. Meanwhile, his own $1,200 Patagonia jacket wasn’t in any of the shared family expense logs. I smiled—a cold, empty expression. So that was it. Adam returned late that evening. “Where were you?” I asked, meeting him at the door. “Dinner with a client.” “Oh.” He settled on the couch and picked up his phone. I walked over and sat down on the chair opposite him. “Adam, a question.” “Yeah?” “Does the money your mother gives you count as family income?” He looked up, wary now. “It’s a gift from my mother. It has nothing to do with you.” “But the $50,000 I gave you for your mother’s medical bill—that counted as a family expense?” “Of course, it did. You’re my wife.” I nodded slowly. “And everything you bought me during my ten months of pregnancy—the prenatal care, the clothes—that all counts as my debt to you?” “They were purchases for you. Yes, they count.” “But I was pregnant. I was creating your son.” “That was your choice,” Adam said, his voice hardening. “Jenna, why are you bringing all this up?” “I just wanted to clarify the accounting rules.” “There’s nothing unclear about it. I keep a ledger to keep things clear.” I looked at him, feeling a terrifying wave of unfamiliarity wash over me. “Adam, a marriage isn’t a limited partnership.” He frowned. “What are you talking about?” “I’m talking about the fact that I don’t owe you anything.” “So you’re refusing to pay?” “Yes. I’m not paying.” Adam stood up and crossed the space between us. “Jenna, don’t be unreasonable.” “I’m unreasonable?” “Yes! The ledger is clear. You can’t just refuse to pay what you owe!” “And why don’t you account for what I’ve contributed to this home?” “Your contributions? You benefited from them just as much as I did!” I took a sharp breath. “I understand now.” “Good. One month. $180,000. Don’t miss the deadline.” I stood up and walked into the bedroom. “Jenna!” I didn’t answer. I closed the door and messaged Samara. Me: Can you recommend a lawyer? Samara: What kind? Me: Divorce. Samara sent a shocked emoji, then a single word: Tomorrow. Me: Thank you. I turned off my phone and lay back. Toby slept peacefully beside me. I stroked his hair. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Your mom has to make a hard choice. But I can’t let you grow up thinking this is what love looks like. 3. Sunday afternoon, I met with the lawyer. Ms. Klein was a sharp, meticulous woman in her forties who looked like she’d won every case she’d ever taken. “Ms. Thorne, let’s go over the specifics.” I explained the ledger, the group chat, and the context of the $180,000. Ms. Klein listened, silently, for a few moments. “This situation is… unique,” she said. “I want a divorce.” “We can do that, but you need to consider three things,” Ms. Klein continued. “First, custody of your son. Second, asset division. Third, if he sues you for the $180,000, legally speaking…” “If he sues,” I cut her off, “I will countersue and submit my own itemized ledger for the last five years.” Ms. Klein paused, then a slight smile touched her lips. “Ms. Thorne, you are remarkably composed.” “I’m just done being naive.” “So, what’s your strategy?” “I’m creating my own ledger.” Ms. Klein nodded, pulling out a legal pad. “Excellent. But we need to structure it smartly. Marital common expenditures are shared. The key is to prove that your non-monetary contributions vastly outweigh his, and that his accounting system was designed to benefit himself.” “I have the proof.” “What proof?” I took out my phone and opened the photo album. “These are my bank statements for the last five years. I’ve already organized them.” Ms. Klein took the phone, scrolling briefly. “Very good. These will be useful.” “I also have photos of his hidden accounting files on his work computer.” Ms. Klein looked at me, her surprise evident. “Ms. Thorne, what is your profession?” “I’m a Product Manager.” “That explains it.” I offered a small smile. “So, what do I do next?” “First, finalize your counter-ledger,” Ms. Klein advised. “Second, gather all evidence: texts, transfer records, everything. Finally, we propose a mediated settlement. If he refuses, we file a complaint.” “Understood.” “And regarding custody: do you want primary custody?” “Absolutely.” “Then we must establish your competence and show that the child’s best interests are served by living with you.” “That won’t be an issue.” Ms. Klein covered a few more technical details, which I duly noted. I arrived home around seven p.m. Adam was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. “You’re back? Where were you?” “Met a friend.” “Right.” He served the food and called me to the table. I sat, but had no appetite. “So, about the $180,000. Have you thought about it?” I looked up at him. “I have. If you want to keep score, we’ll settle the books.” Adam paused, fork halfway to his mouth, then grinned. “You want to challenge my math?” “Yes.” “Go ahead. I’m an open book.” He wore a condescending expression, convinced I couldn’t possibly come up with anything substantial. I didn’t argue. I just ate quietly. For the next three days, I sat in front of my computer every night after putting Toby to bed. Five years of bank statements. Screenshots of every large transfer. And my own ledger. I used the same Excel template Adam had. The first cell: Adam Thorne – Itemized Compensation Due to Jenna Thorne Ledger. I began listing the items. Row 1: Opportunity Cost of 10-Month Pregnancy & Recovery. I consulted online resources, calculating the loss of potential promotion and salary increase for a high-earning woman. I settled on a conservative estimate: $300,000. Row 2: Physical & Emotional Toll of Childbirth. Quantifying the actual cost of physical damage and recovery time: $100,000. Row 3: Value of Uncompensated Childcare & Domestic Labor. I calculated the hours spent after my full-time job and on weekends doing primary childcare and household management. I calculated 3 hours per day, at a moderate rate of $50/hour, over five years. 3 hours x 365 days x 5 years x $50/hour = $273,750. I rounded it to a conservative: $250,000. Row 4: My Parents’ Down Payment Contribution (never returned or acknowledged). $30,000. Row 5: My $50,000 Contribution to Mother-in-Law’s Medical Bill (unreimbursed). $50,000. Row 6: Disparity in Monthly Shared Expenses (My overpayment of $2,000/month). $120,000. … I compiled twenty entries. The final row, highlighted in fluorescent green: TOTAL COMPENSATION DUE: $850,000.00. $850,000. I stared at the number and let out a genuine, albeit cynical, laugh. I had “earned” an $670,000 profit in this marriage. I saved the file and closed the laptop. It was 1 a.m. Adam was asleep in the bedroom. I didn’t go in. I lay on the living room sofa for the rest of the night. 4. Thursday evening, Adam asked again: “$180,000. What’s the plan?” “This weekend. I’ll give you my answer then.” “Fine. I’ll wait.” Saturday morning, I met Samara at our usual coffee shop. “Is the ledger ready?” “Yes.” I AirDropped the Excel file to her phone. Samara opened it, read for a moment, and burst out laughing. “Jenna, you are savage.” “I just used his own logic against him.” “The ‘Opportunity Cost of 10-Month Pregnancy.’ That’s genius.” “And it’s a conservative estimate, too.” “It’s brutal enough.” Samara put down her phone. “When are you going to send this to him?” “Tonight. In the family chat.” Samara’s jaw dropped, then she gave me a slow, emphatic thumbs-up. “You’re an icon.” “If he can humiliate me in the family chat, I can certainly return the favor.” “That’s the spirit.” That afternoon, I went to my parents’ house. Dad saw my face and asked, “What’s wrong, kiddo?” “Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something.” “What is it?” “I’m filing for divorce.” Mom gasped. Dad didn’t speak for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “Are you sure?””

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I severed ties with my family to be with Blair. The day I was thrown out, my father, Mr. Harrington, had only a cold sneer for me. “Cameron,” he’d said. “You’ve been far too protected. You don’t know the first thing about people. I’ll give it six months—let’s see how long your little rebellion lasts.” Six years. Six years, I was right beside Blair as she clawed her way up—from the dusty basement office to the cramped rental, from splitting lukewarm instant ramen to occasionally being able to spring for a decent meal. I held her hair back when she drank until she threw up for a client. I stayed up all night, hovering over a pot of hangover soup. Her company, Ascend Tech, finally went public. The celebration was held in the Grand Ballroom of the city’s top hotel. I arrived early, the dutiful fiancé, to handle the final details. But the moment I walked in, I saw someone already seated at the head table—Ronan, the infamous “Co-Pilot.” He was dressed in a crisp linen blazer, laughing easily with one of the key investors. His composure was unnerving, the attitude of a half-owner. He barely glanced at me before issuing a casual order. “Cam is here? Good. Could you chase the kitchen? Mr. Liu is allergic to shellfish; the menu needs a final check.” Blair, standing next to him, didn’t miss a beat. She naturally took the wine glass from Ronan’s hand, finished the liquid, and murmured, “You’re always so on top of things, Ronan. I almost forgot about Mr. Liu.” During the dinner, their conversation flowed in a torrent of industry jargon and capital strategy. They talked about the dizzying ascent of Ascend Tech as if they were reading from a shared script—Blair’s most shocking, exhilarating chapters, with Ronan as the absolute co-star. I found myself perpetually several steps behind, unable to insert a word. After the third round of drinks, Blair stood up to propose a final toast. Ronan, instead of letting her, slipped an arm around her waist, all charm and dazzling smiles. “Everyone! Blair’s got it all—career and love. Shouldn’t we bachelors punish her for her good fortune?” The room exploded in cheers and playful taunts. A few of the senior executives, fueled by alcohol, got loud. “I’ve been saying it for years! You and Ronan are the real power couple! The way you communicate—a single look, that’s all it takes!” “They started out sharing ramen, now they’re ringing the NASDAQ bell together. What do they call that? Shared hardship, shared fortune!” Blair laughed, letting the atmosphere simmer, refusing to deny the bond. I watched the celebration that was ostensibly for her but felt entirely for them. I was the accessory, the furniture in the background of their joint success story. “It looks like your company’s celebration doesn’t require an actual husband.” I kept my voice low, but the bitterness was a toxic cloud. “You and your best partner can enjoy the victory.” I picked up my jacket and walked out, ignoring the sudden silence and the surprised faces. 1 She caught me in the hallway, grabbing my arm, her voice a soft, cajoling purr. “Cam, stop. Don’t ruin this.” I shrugged her off, my eyes stinging. A couple of directors followed us, trying to smooth things over. Mr. Harrison, the oldest, patted Blair’s shoulder. “Blair, talk it out. Don’t let Cam feel unappreciated.” Blair took a deep breath, her eyes clearing with sudden seriousness. “Ronan was just carried away with the excitement, and I apologize for him. But Cam, six years of us… are you really going to invalidate everything over one careless night?” Her voice dropped, laced with a familiar panic. “You remember what we promised? Once the company went public, we’d go see the Northern Lights in Norway, have a wedding in Tromsø.” A sliver of pain pierced me. We had clawed our way through so much hell, only to finally reach this day. She stroked the back of my hand, a gesture I knew well. “You don’t want to go to Norway with me anymore, Cam?” That line, that promise, was my ultimate soft spot. Mr. Harrison sighed again. “Cam, you were mistreated tonight. Ronan is fiercely devoted to the company; he just sees it as his own. He lost his perspective.” Ronan finally sauntered up, standing a few feet away, his tone smooth and professional. “Cam, I apologize for my oversight just now. I didn’t mean to create any misunderstanding. Let me buy you a drink.” He raised a glass from seemingly nowhere, his posture generous and open. The tension eased, momentarily. As the directors left, Mr. Harrison made one final suggestion. “Blair, the team is going to the Spring House Lodge tomorrow for a retreat. Bring Cam. He needs a chance to relax.” Blair immediately nodded, clinging tightly to my arm. “Of course. I’ll make sure he’s there.” We went home that night. In the steam-filled bathroom, she held my neck and whispered “I’m sorry” over and over, kissing me urgently, desperately. Later, in bed, she took me several times, demanding a roughness that felt less like passion and more like a feverish attempt to smash all the lingering insecurities that now floated between us. I closed my eyes, but the sliver of pain had become a needle, digging deeper into my heart. 2 We arrived at the Spring House Lodge late the next afternoon. Ronan was already poolside, in a silk robe, nursing a glass of red wine. He smiled faintly when he saw us. “Blair, did you remember your swimsuit this time? You always forget.” He then addressed me, the statement sounding entirely natural to him. “Last time we were on a business trip, I had to buy her a bikini on the fly.” Blair looked momentarily awkward, shaking my hand slightly. “That was ages ago, Cam.” It was a younger, more casual crowd this time. Everyone gathered around the hot spring pool, sipping wine, chatting. Someone piped up, “Ronan, tell us some of your classic startup stories with Blair!” Ronan grinned. “The most memorable night was when we closed our Series A. Blair was so excited, she insisted I spin her around, and we both ended up falling fully clothed into the office pool.” The group roared with laughter. Blair gave a soft, knowing laugh. “You were pretty tipsy that night, too.” The teasing continued. A project manager, clearly tipsy, slurred his words. “Come on, Ronan, Blair! Be honest. Did you two really never date? Confess, while the fiancé is here! Confess!” Another chimed in, “Exactly! I remember one night, working till three a.m., I saw you two hugging in the office!” Ronan took a sip of wine, his face flushed, his gaze drifting toward Blair. “We… we did kiss.” I snapped my head up. The sound of water, of laughter—everything—went dead silent. Blair leaned against the pool’s edge, eyes closed, seemingly oblivious. Ronan smiled, his tone a dangerous mix of truth and jest. “It was the night the company almost folded. She said… if we managed to turn things around, she would leave her boyfriend and be with me.” His eyes dropped to my pale, frozen face. He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. “And then…” “She leaned over and kissed me.” 3 That sentence was a bucket of ice water dumped directly onto my skull. The silence was deafening. I lunged to my feet, glaring at a bleary-eyed Blair. “Is he telling the truth?” The warm spring water felt suddenly absent, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling cold. The woman who had clung to me and declared her love just last night now looked disoriented. She looked at Ronan, then at me. Then, she smiled widely and mumbled unconsciously, “Truth about what? It was just one kiss, Cam!” “Ronnie’s lips were so soft… it broke my heart.” Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. Ronnie. “So, when the company turned around, you were supposed to be with him?” My voice trembled. She seemed to regain a sliver of consciousness. She rubbed her temples with a frustrated sigh. “Cam, stop dredging up old history… that was just the stress talking…” Before she could finish, Ronan was there, helping her stand. He was still wearing that mask of concern and sincerity. “That time was incredibly difficult, Cam. Some words said under that kind of pressure don’t count. Please don’t take it to heart.” His words were genuine, but the blatant, undisguised love in his eyes for Blair was impossible to miss. He helped her out of the pool, his voice gentle. “Blair, your stomach is sensitive. Don’t stay in the hot water too long.” She leaned into him, hazy and compliant. It was an intimacy I had never felt entitled to. An older employee sighed. “Cam, you just weren’t there for that period. The company was on the verge of collapse. Ronan didn’t sleep for three days straight, right alongside Blair.” “At the worst point, they truly… depended on each other.” Ronan spoke softly. “It’s all in the past. The company is great now, and she’s with you. I’m genuinely happy for her.” He said he was happy, but his eyes were filled with smug, unconcealed defiance. Another executive, drunk, raised a hand. “I’ll vouch for that! Blair even said at the time, if they pulled through, she would never let Ronan down!” Amidst the few ambiguous chuckles, Blair rested her head on Ronan’s shoulder and mumbled, “Mmm… won’t let Ronnie down.” That scene shattered whatever was left of me. I grabbed my robe, pulled it on, and walked away. Behind me, the murmurs rose. “He can’t handle the truth?” “They were never in the same league anyway.” “Ronan’s the one who truly sacrificed for her.” I slammed the door and locked it behind me. The night outside the Spring House was cold and silent. I flashed back to our ten-square-meter apartment, splitting one bowl of instant noodles. She’d been curled up in my arms. “Cam, once I make it, I’ll never let you suffer, not even a little bit.” I remembered her first failed funding attempt, sitting with her on an overpass at three in the morning, watching the cars below. “Thank God I still have you,” she’d said. Now she had made it. But somewhere along the path of loving me, she had fallen in love with someone else. I stared into the thick darkness, sitting motionless until dawn. Blair never returned to the room that night. I didn’t expect an apology. I didn’t expect this. The next afternoon, she burst in, fury radiating off her, followed by Ronan, his eyes slightly red. She slammed her tablet down in front of me. The company website’s homepage was defaced with a video: [SEE THE REAL FACE OF ASCEND’S ‘OTHER MAN’ RONAN!] It was the clip of Ronan confessing they had kissed and her drunken admission to “not letting Ronnie down.” The comments section was a wildfire of condemnation. “Cameron!” Blair’s eyes were bloodshot. “Our main website was hacked! The whole industry is laughing at us!” She stabbed a finger at the screen. “Doesn’t your childhood friend do security and hacking? Using this kind of dirty trick is despicable!” I froze. She was so quick to assign me guilt, based only on a connection. Ronan stepped forward, his eyes watery but his posture rigid with dignity. “Cam, if you’re angry, just say so. But this company is the lifeblood of everyone here. You shouldn’t retaliate like this.” Every word was calculated, making him seem the victim and me the petty villain. I looked at the woman I had loved for six years. She was damning me without hesitation, all for him. My heart died in that moment. I slowly raised my eyes. “Blair, are you here to bring him to me for an inquisition?” I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to stifle the sob in my throat. “Or did you forget that you owe me an explanation first?” “Or,” I pressed, “do you just want to tell me you want to break up?” 4 “Break up?” Blair’s brow furrowed. “Cameron, we are talking about the website hack right now!” “And how you’ve ruined Ronan’s reputation.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, her tone heavy with annoyance. “Is this how you act when you’ve done something wrong?” Ronan stood beside her, his voice quiet but sharp. “Cam, I understand you’re hurting. But attacking a company system is illegal, and it could destroy everything Blair has worked for.” The comment struck its target. Blair immediately moved to stand between Ronan and me, staring at me with profound disappointment. “He’s being this magnanimous, and you’re still being this stubborn? Apologize!” I looked at the two of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. “I didn’t do it,” my voice was cold. “Who else?” Blair bit back, utterly convinced. “Your hacker friend is in that business!” Her absolute certainty sliced through me. I was shaking, and I finally lost control. I raised my hand— “SMACK!” The sound was sharp and final as my palm connected with Blair’s cheek. Her left cheek instantly blossomed crimson. “Blair!” Ronan rushed to her side. The senior executives heard the noise and flooded the room, shouting. “Cam, how could you lay a hand on her?” “You caused the trouble, and now you’re being violent!” “Ronan is willing to let it go, what else do you want?” I looked at their united front, their righteous indignation, and let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You say I hacked your website? Do you have proof?” “A room full of supposed leaders, yet you’re all so quick to make baseless accusations!” As the chaos escalated, Ronan stepped in, playing the peacemaker. “Everyone, calm down. Cam is just emotional.” “He’s probably just upset about being overlooked by Blair.” He tried to excuse me, but in doing so, he cemented my guilt. He spoke sincerely. “But Cam, why make things this ugly over a private relationship issue?” In the confusion, my briefcase was knocked over. A small velvet box rolled out—the engagement ring Blair had bought me with her first successful round of funding. “Crunch.” A distinct, sickening sound of something breaking. Ronan’s polished leather shoe had accidentally stepped on it. The diamond flew off, and the platinum band buckled. The world went silent. “My apologies,” Ronan took a step back, his tone feather-light. “Didn’t see that.” I bent down and picked up the mangled ring. My hand was shaking. Six years of love, crushed so easily. Blair finally looked stunned, reaching for me. “Cam…” Before she could finish, I looked up, my eyes bloodshot. I gasped, then swung my hand, hitting Ronan with a blow that was louder and harder than the one I’d given Blair. “SMACK!” He stumbled backward, crashing into the coffee table. Red wine from the spilled glasses stained his white linen blazer. “You…” He stared, his face a mask of disbelief. “That,” I advanced a step, “is for your calculated malice.” The executives collectively sucked in a breath. Ronan struggled to stand. “Doing this will only embarrass Blair…” “Shut up!” I cut him off. Blair softened her voice. “Cam, let’s talk about this properly.” “Talk about what?” I sneered. “How you were ‘kissing and relying’ on him?” The pain in my chest felt like my heart was tearing open. All the suppressed emotion exploded. I swung my hand one last time. “And this one, you parasite, is for being the other man!” Ronan cried out, falling to the floor. The red wine soaked into his white blazer, a picture of pathetic ruin. He finally dropped the mask. “Cameron, you’ve lost your mind!” I didn’t look at him again. I pulled out my phone and dialed. “Dad.” My voice was ice. “Initiate the short-sell on Ascend Tech. Buy up every available share.”

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The Harbor City Gala was less a celebration and more a livestock auction. I stood in a line with a dozen other eligible young women, waiting to be selected. As the disgraced, illegitimate daughter of the Shore Dynasty’s gambling lord, I knew the stakes. If I didn’t receive a flower—the symbolic gesture of intent—tonight, by morning I’d be shipped off to The Metropolitan District for a miserable, arranged marriage. Grant Kingsley, my childhood friend and the man I’d clung to for a decade, was supposed to be my anchor. But as he approached our line, his eyes—the same shade of warm whiskey I’d stared into a thousand times—slid past me. He stopped beside Summer Davies, the recent recipient of his massive scholarship fund. He handed the rare, golden-tipped Orchid to her. He leaned in, his breath a warm, sickening contrast to the chill seizing my chest. “Just let Summer have her moment, Kenzie. This is the highlight of her whole life. Don’t worry, I’m here. No one will dare finalize your engagement while I’m around.” I offered him a desperate, pleading look, but he dismissed it instantly. He offered Summer his arm, the gesture formal, almost possessive. “Summer is graceful and elegant, and frankly, she carries herself with a dignity worthy of the Orchid.” Dignity worthy of the Orchid. The words, meant to elevate her, instantly made me the butt of every whispered joke in the room. The next morning, I left for the Metropolitan District alone. Grant, in a panic, shut down the entire city’s air traffic trying to find me. … Summer Davies’s hand rested on Grant’s arm with an affected, practiced elegance. Under the chandeliers, they looked like a perfect, polished pair. My own heart was a tight, painful knot, but I forced my expression to remain smooth. He, of course, was oblivious to my quiet crisis. The room was thinning out. I stood alone, flowerless, my fate sealed: the arranged marriage loomed. Grant, noticing me abandoned in the corner, sauntered over with a glass of champagne. “Seriously, the nerve of some people,” he griped, rolling his eyes. “I told a few of the guys to make sure you got something, just to save face. Can you believe they disobeyed my order?” I sighed, staring at the man I had practically grown up with, a man who, until tonight, I believed was my only ally. “Do you even know what the Gala means?” The Harbor Gala wasn’t just a party; it was a matchmaking event for the most powerful families. The Orchid symbolized the heir’s intention to marry the recipient. As an illegitimate Shore—a social stain—no one but Grant, the city’s most eligible bachelor, would risk offering me that kind of commitment. My stepmother, Elaine Shore, had forced me to come precisely because she knew I’d be rejected, forcing my hand into the Capital marriage. I had begged Grant for three years of protection—three years to gain footing—and then he’d be free to love anyone. He’d sworn he’d protect me. But when the time came, he chose a fleeting moment of performative charity over my entire future. Decades of loyalty dissolved in a single evening. A look of faint guilt crossed Grant’s face, and he waved Summer off with a quick, paternal pat. “Look, Kenzie, you see this stuff all the time. But for Summer, a scholarship girl, this is her one shot at the limelight. Just let me thank you on her behalf.” He leaned in, his expression turning into a familiar, charming pout that he knew usually melted me. “Why now? You can have anything else. Why are you making a big deal out of this?” When I didn’t soften, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Today is her graduation. It also means she won’t be accepting my stipend anymore. I promised her one unforgettable night, that’s all.” It certainly was unforgettable for me, too. And now, it was irreversible. “Grant, you know what the Gala flowers signify—” Summer, like a well-timed interruption, glided back to his side. “Oh, Kendall,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “Did I ruin something? Please don’t be mad at Grant. I begged him…” Grant scowled at me as Summer theatrically tucked her chin, appearing distressed. “It’s fine, Kenzie,” he snapped. “It’s just a damn flower. I’ll buy you one.” He plucked a random, fully bloomed red rose from a passing floral arrangement and shoved it into my hand. It was dripping water, its thorns hastily shaved off, the stem brutally snapped short. “Roses are better suited for you anyway—passion, fire. Why are you being so dramatic about a single Orchid? It’s completely unlike your easygoing nature.” The rose was a cruel mirror. The Orchid signified respect, the dignified qualities a family heir seeks in a wife. The blazing rose, severed and de-thorned, was a symbol of passion without promise—a cruel irony for the gambling lord’s bastard. The snickers around us grew louder. People weren’t bothering to hide their gossip anymore. “The mistress’s daughter, always fetching and carrying for him, actually thought she could marry into the Kingsleys. Didn’t you hear? The scholarship girl has more ‘dignity’ than her.” Grant shot a look at the gossipers, and the girl shut up, but not before shooting me a venomous glare. “I’m so sorry, Kendall,” Summer murmured. “You’re so elegant all the time, I just wanted one night of that special attention. I didn’t realize—” “Elegant?” I cut her off, my voice dangerously low. “I’m a bastard child. Do you think Grant is unaware of how my family treats me?” Summer fumbled a mini-quiche, which landed squarely on her satin shoe. Her eyes immediately welled up with artful, wounded tears. Grant’s jaw tightened. “Look, this is ridiculous. Let her finish her night. I’m going to take her to change. You can go home now, Kenzie.” Go home. I had no home to go to. Brad Lawson, a low-tier heir notorious for his handsiness, sidled up to me, sniffing loudly near my hair. “Smells expensive, Ms. Shore.” Without Grant’s protection, I was easy prey. “Grant told me to give you a flower, but I passed. I told you to stop chasing his heels and flirt with me for once. How does it feel now? Humiliating, right?” I was stunned. Grant had assigned him—a known shark—the task of giving me a pity flower? My hand clenched around the broken rose. The betrayal, the casual disrespect, was nauseating. Brad, noticing my stiff silence, slapped a furry hand onto my shoulder. “Look, Kendall, if you weren’t so damn gorgeous, a bastard like you would be fair game for anyone. Did you think Grant Kingsley would actually protect you forever?” Before his fingers could dig in, Grant’s hand shot out and smacked Brad’s arm away. “Lawson. I told you not to touch what’s mine.” “But you chose the charity case! You’re just keeping Kendall as a backup, huh?” Brad sneered. “Stay out of my business.” Grant spun me around to face him, his eyes blazing. “Why didn’t you fight back?” The question was the final blow. I was beyond disappointment. “Why would I? Isn’t that what you ordered?” “You need to understand, Kenzie, I can protect you in this room, but I can’t be glued to your side every second.” “But you knew what the Gala meant—” Summer returned instantly, her tears magically dried, a bright, cheerful smile now plastered on her face. “I’d love to try a cocktail, Grant. May I?” A sullen woman begging for her future versus a bright, adoring girl asking for a drink. The choice for Grant was obvious. “Of course. Tonight, you’re the star. Whatever you want.” He turned back to me. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll come to your place.” Tomorrow. I gave a tight, mirthless laugh. Tomorrow, you’ll have to come to the Metropolitan District to find me. Grant excused himself to greet a senator. Summer returned to me, a ruby-red drink in hand, the feigned meekness gone, replaced by a subtle, almost-Kingsley air of authority. “Why, Kendall, you have everything. Do you really need to steal this one little piece of glory from me?” I should never have selected her from the roster of Grant’s scholarship applicants years ago. “You’ve lived a privileged life since birth. I only asked for Grant’s protection for one night.” “Privileged? I’m a bastard,” I replied flatly. My mother died young. Elaine Shore brought me back only to torment me. My father, the gambling lord, had a dozen children and no interest in me. I learned to be invisible. I learned that my face was my only currency. That currency was what I used to approach my uncle, Victor Shore, a man as cold and sharp as a glacier. I begged him to train me, to back me. “Your father has twenty-odd children. Why should I invest in a useless little bastard who will inevitably fail?” he’d asked. “Because I have no weakness. I have nothing to lose, and I’m willing to fight dirty,” I’d promised, trembling slightly beneath his unblinking stare. But the time wasn’t right. Victor wouldn’t help me yet. The man I was slated to marry in the Metropolitan District, Weston Albright, was rumored to be ruthlessly cold. The Shores wanted an alliance, but didn’t want their legitimate daughters suffering, so they chose me. Victor must have known the outcome of the Gala. A text buzzed in my hand: Find your own way. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. Summer, playing the host, placed a warm hand on my ice-cold one. “Do you think Grant even knew what the Gala meant tonight?” I had to act. I tracked down Grant immediately. “Did you know what the Gala meant?” “Yeah, a matchmaking event. So what? It’s just tradition. Who actually marries the person they give a flower to these days?” He knew. “I’ll handle the Shores. They won’t marry you off.” “Then will you please get the Orchid back from Summer? I only need it for the night. I’ll return it.” Grant looked at me, surprised, then uneasy. “I don’t think so. I already gave it away. I’ll buy you a dozen, Kenzie. Just don’t be so petty about Summer.” The Orchid had that unique, counterfeit-proof gold edging. The suppressed rage of the entire evening finally erupted. “Grant Kingsley, I told you I wouldn’t cling to you! I told you I have someone else I want to be with! I told you I only needed three years and you could be free! Why are you humiliating me like this?” His smile vanished. His expression turned hard, and he backed me against a wall. “Someone else? Who, Kendall? No one else would dare claim you. You can only want me. The whole damn city knows you’re my shadow.” To hear the word shadow—the word for the desperate hanger-on I’d had to be to survive in the Shore house—filled me with absolute shame. I took a step back, accidentally bumping into Summer, who stumbled slightly. “Kendall, please don’t fight with Grant!” Grant immediately pulled Summer into his arms. “Kenzie, it’s just one night. Don’t be so dramatic. Tomorrow, she’ll go back to her life.” Summer’s look suggested she had no intention of letting go of this sudden, unexpected wealth. I left the banquet and climbed into the sleek, black sedan Victor had sent. Victor Shore sat inside, a chilling reservoir of stillness. “You lost. You made a bet. Go to the Metropolitan District tomorrow and let fate decide the rest.” “I will come back,” I told him. “Prove it.” He twisted his lips into a cool, calculating arc, effectively washing his hands of me. Back at the Shore mansion, Elaine Shore glanced at Victor’s retreating back, her expression one of practiced elegance. “Eighteen years of being provided for. It’s time you repaid us. Since the Kingsley son has chosen his fiancée, you leave tomorrow.” Nothing in the Shore house belonged to me. I had to pay for my own flight. Victor said nothing, merely retreating to his room. I went to the tiny bedroom that had always been mine. My elder half-sister leaned against the doorframe, examining her freshly manicured nails. “If I were you, I’d have skipped the Gala and saved myself the embarrassment. Mother told me to watch you. You can’t take anything valuable—even the dress you’re wearing has to stay.” “Mother says you’ve enjoyed enough of the Shore name. The rest is up to you.” “Oh, and Mother says that Metropolitan guy probably has a Golden Standard—the idealized woman he can never touch. Good luck.” I stripped off the designer gown, removed the borrowed jewelry, and placed everything in a tray. I walked to the bathroom in just my silk slip, and my sister finally lost interest and left. On my phone, Summer’s dazzling smile lit up a social media post. Thank you for the most magical night. It’s my turn to repay you now. The sleeve cuff hugging her shoulder featured the custom silver cufflink I had given Grant for his last birthday. I left all of Grant’s gifts behind. The next morning, I was up before dawn. I slipped out without saying goodbye to anyone, a simple backpack my only luggage, and headed straight to the airport. Security was swift. I boarded the flight. As the plane taxied onto the runway, I turned my phone completely off, severing the last connection to Harbor City. Suddenly, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We apologize for the inconvenience, passengers. Due to an urgent, city-wide search by the Kingsley family, the city’s air traffic control has been ordered to suspend all outgoing flights. We are returning to the gate.”

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When Locke Foster ditched me again to chase Delphine across the Atlantic, I looked up at the endless stream of jets taking off and landing, and for the first time, I felt utterly, completely bored. This was supposed to be the best time of my life, yet I’d spent so many years stuck in his low-budget romantic drama. I tightened my grip on the plane ticket in my hand and boarded. Ten hours later, I landed. My phone buzzed with Locke’s text: “Ellie, listen, I’m so sorry. Can’t make Milan. Delphine and I worked things out. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” He always did this, so casually, so openly treating me like his backup plan, always sure that I’d be there waiting. Later, when he inevitably came crawling back, disappointed and expecting me to pick him up at arrivals, he’d try to call, but my number would be blocked. He’d lift his head, and instead, he’d see me sprinting into the arms of a man in a pilot’s uniform, rising onto my toes to press a light kiss to his jaw. 1 Locke kept looking back at me as he approached the security checkpoint. He looked conflicted, wanting to say something, but not sure how to phrase the latest excuse. Finally, his friend, Brody, got fed up and shoved me hard toward Locke. “Come on, Locke, man up. Just break the news to your little spare tire.” Locke caught me, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew he was in the wrong, and his voice was low, almost pleading. “Ellie, we’ll go to Milan next time, I promise. This time…” I tugged at the corner of my mouth, trying to flash the same easy smile I always used, the one that meant it’s okay, I understand. But the sound was stuck in my throat. Brody yanked me away and slapped Locke on the back. “Don’t sweat it, man. I’ll make sure the Consolation Prize gets home.” Locke started to speak to me again, but his phone rang. I watched him answer, his voice instantly shifting to a soft, cajoling tone. “Delphine, I told you I’ll be there in a few hours…” He walked through the security arch without a second thought, his back as straight and final as all the other times he’d abandoned me for Delphine. Brody scratched his head and grabbed my suitcase. “Alright, Little Spare, I’ll take you home.” I pressed my hand onto the handle of my luggage, shaking my head at his irritated expression. “I need a minute alone.” Brody smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re still thinking of chasing after him to France, are you? You haven’t figured out your role yet? Compared to Delphine, you’re on a totally different plane to him. You’re the ground floor.” When he couldn’t convince me, Brody left in a huff. I dragged my suitcase to the glass wall of the terminal and sat down, staring blankly as planes lifted and landed. I tried to pick out the flight that was supposed to have carried Locke and me to Milan today. This wasn’t the first time Locke had prioritized Delphine. It wasn’t the first time he’d broken our promise. But it was the first time I felt this heavy, soul-deep fatigue washing over me, pooling from my core to my fingertips. Suddenly, I was just so bored. 2 My hands were shaking as I boarded the flight, but the feeling was a strange mix of faint excitement and wild calm. Few people knew that I suffered from such severe acrophobia that the very idea of flying crippled me. Locke had known this about me since childhood. That’s why, after every family trip, he’d describe the breathtaking spectacle of the sky and the foreign landscapes in vivid detail. When he learned I dreamed of Milan, he’d gently run his hand over my hair and promise, “Ellie, I’ll take you. I promise we’ll see it together someday.” I believed him. From the time I was ten until I was eighteen. Then he threw himself into his turbulent, on-again, off-again relationship with Delphine. I silently played the understanding friend, distancing myself whenever they were together. But every time they split, Locke would inevitably come back to me, buy tickets, and say, “Let’s go, Ellie. I’ll finally take you to Milan.” I had a literal shoebox full of those wasted, expired tickets. I managed a self-deprecating smile. It took me until this moment to realize he’d been using that ticket as a dangling carrot, a cheap insurance policy, for years. 3 The plane started to taxi and pick up speed. My hands clenched the armrests, my body rigid against the seat back. The sense of lost gravity made my heart race, and cold sweat broke out on my forehead and back. Suddenly, the plane shuddered violently. I gasped, instinctively grasping the hand that was nearest to the armrest, shutting my eyes tight and trying to breathe. After what felt like an eternity, the hand I was white-knuckle gripping gently shifted its fingers. “Ma’am, are you okay?” I snapped my eyes open and turned my head. A handsome, smiling face was inches from mine. He held up our hands, which were still tightly clasped, and gave them a little shake. “Just a bit of expected air turbulence. It’s over now.” I realized I’d been squeezing his hand so hard it was pale, and I quickly let go, mumbling an embarrassed apology. He laughed softly, flexing his hand, and turned sideways to face me, instantly familiar. “Small girl, big grip. You’re afraid of flying, but you decided to come alone?” I stared at my still-trembling hands, remembering the name ‘Locke’ that had almost screamed itself from my mouth during the shake. A bitter ache rose from my fingers to my chest. I forced a tight smile. “I have to get over it. Being dependent on someone to conquer your fears is too heartbreaking.” He gave a slight, understanding nod and opened the window shade next to him. “Well, your bravery rewarded you with luck. Look, the sky is rarely this beautiful.” I blinked my stinging eyes and looked past him, out the window. The twilight was a brilliant, violent display of color, a bouquet of deep reds and hot oranges, blooming across the vast expanse of the sky. The sheer beauty of it shocked me, and tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t stop the silent, ugly sobs. What had I been doing all these years? What had I been waiting for? I had let someone convince me that my prime was secondary, that I didn’t deserve this kind of glorious, terrifying beauty. A jacket was gently placed over my head, shielding my moment of raw vulnerability. I finally felt it: I was free to let Locke go, completely and utterly. 4 When we deplaned, I learned the man was Miles Kennedy, a pilot who usually flew this route but was currently taking some time off. I nervously glanced at the jacket in his hand. “Captain Kennedy, thank you for the jacket.” Miles shrugged it off with a casual smile. Then, after a moment’s thought, he turned back to me. “As an apology for startling you, would you join me for lunch?” When I hesitated, he put on a look of mock distress. “There’s this one place I’ve wanted to try for ages, but eating alone seems so depressing. I keep missing it.” I’m still not sure how it happened. I had just resolved to enjoy a solo trip, yet the next thing I knew, I was sitting across from him in a chic Italian restaurant. Miles scanned the menu and asked if I had any dietary restrictions. I sadly shook my head. But all the sadness melted away when the beautifully plated food arrived. I took a few photos and, for the first time in ages, posted to social media: “The place I always dreamed of. Finally made it.” I wasn’t ready for the explosion. Brody, Locke’s obnoxious wingman, was the first to screenshot the post and tag both me and Locke in their group chat. “Locke, man, your Little Spare got smart? She’s playing mind games now, using reverse psychology.” “Wait, Little Spare, whose hand is in the fifth picture? That’s a dude’s hand, right?” Replies poured in: “She probably just found it online. Not even in the States. Bad lie, Ellie.” “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. The Consolation Prize finally snapped. Been a doormat for too long.” Locke himself finally chimed in, tagging me: “Ellie, this is getting ridiculous.” “I messed up. I’ll bring you a gift when I get back.” I smiled thinly, calmly exited the group chat, and muted it entirely. Back in the chat, Brody’s jaw must have dropped: “The Little Spare went nuclear! She left the group!” Someone else posted: “Guys, this looks legit. I think that’s L’Osteria in Milan. And her backpack charm is visible.” Brody: “Photoshopped. She’s desperate. She’ll do anything.” Locke tagged Brody: “Did you take Ellie home like I told you to?” Brody: “…Yeah, man.” Locke: “Let her throw her fit. She’ll get over it. I’ll make it up to her when I’m back.” Brody: “What if it’s real, though?” Locke, stopped at the security gate in the Paris airport, took a deep breath and typed: “It can’t be. She has an issue. She can’t fly to Milan.” But as he sent the message, Locke felt a profound, chilling sense of anxiety, and the hand hovering over his screen trembled.

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The news spread through the family like cold smoke: Richard Callahan was retiring after he miraculously pulled The Callahan Group back from the brink. The company shares, the very legacy of the Callahan name, were split into four parts: one for each of his sons’ wives, and one for himself. Except for me. I got nothing. “Your company, Clarity Tech, is a massive success, valued at over a hundred million. You don’t need the small shares from The Callahan Group.” Richard said it with a stunning lack of shame. I simply smiled and nodded, saying nothing. That very evening, I called my private attorney. The fifteen million dollars that had resurrected The Callahan Group? I loaned it to them. And it still hadn’t been repaid. My lawyer, Mr. Hollis, sounded cautious. “Calling in the debt now… it will cripple their cash flow. They just stabilized. This could be fatal. They are, after all, your family…” I laughed. “Family? They forfeited that title.” 1 The long dining table gleamed beneath the crystal chandelier in the Callahan estate. The room was packed. Richard Callahan sat at the head, his face flushed—a healthy glow, I knew, bought and paid for by my fifteen million dollars. “Today, we celebrate three great joys!” Richard, my father-in-law, raised his glass, his voice booming as if he hadn’t been on the verge of total financial ruin eighteen months ago. I sat next to my husband, Nate Callahan, my face set in the polite smile I’d practiced a thousand times. On the table, the imported cherries and delicate pastries I’d picked up that afternoon went untouched by me. Nate nudged my elbow under the table, a silent plea for me to perk up. “First joy: The Callahan Group has survived a near-death experience and is back on track!” Richard surveyed the room, his eyes sweeping over me without a flicker of acknowledgment. “Second joy: I, Richard Callahan, am officially retiring today!” Applause erupted. My eldest brother-in-law, Travis, and the second, Brock, clapped loudest. Their wives, Deb and Tess, exchanged a knowing glance that settled like silt in my stomach. My heart began to sink, slow and steady. “And the third joy,” Richard paused, savoring the attention, before pulling four embossed gold share certificates from his briefcase. “Is the future of The Callahan Group.” Deb straightened her spine; Tess couldn’t suppress the upward curve of her lips. Even Zack, the youngest, who had recently returned from London, held his breath. Only my smile remained unchanged, my fingertips ice cold. “Travis, you’ve been with me for thirty years, steady as a rock. Chairman, 35% of the shares. They’re yours.” Travis stood, taking the papers with both hands, his voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you, Dad! I won’t let you down!” “Brock, you’re the sharp one, the innovator. President, 30% of the shares.” Brock’s hands shook as he took the document. “You have my word, Dad.” The third certificate bypassed Nate and went directly to Zack. “Zack, you’re young, but you have fresh, international ideas. Vice President, 25% of the shares. Make me proud.” Zack hesitated, looking at Nate. “Dad, Nate, he…” “Your brother has his own arrangements.” Richard waved a dismissive hand and finally picked up the last document. All eyes, including Nate’s, turned to me. They were waiting for the expected performance. Richard handed the document to Nate. “Nate, this 10% stake will be placed in a family trust. You’ll hold it for the family. Just focus on supporting your brothers, alright?” Nate’s hand froze mid-air as he reached for the paper. All four documents had been distributed. The dining room fell silent for a heartbeat before exploding into forced, cheerful laughter. Travis clapped Nate on the shoulder, talking about “brotherly unity.” Brock raised a toast to “creating a brighter future.” Deb and Tess were already whispering about where they would go for a celebratory spa day. My utensils were untouched. “Dad.” Nate finally spoke, his voice dry as sandpaper. “What about… Quinn?” Richard acted as if he’d just remembered I was there, looking up at me with the placid, indifferent gaze one might give a forgotten houseguest. “Oh, Quinn.” He smiled—a smile that stung my eyes. “Your Clarity Tech is a massive success, valued at over a hundred million. You surely don’t want to bother yourself with The Callahan Group’s small shares. I won’t burden you with it.” He never once mentioned the fifteen million I’d loaned him to save his company, nor the original agreement. His tone was one of absolute entitlement, as if this omission were a thoughtful gesture. Under the table, Nate grabbed my hand, squeezing so hard I thought my bones might shatter. He was silently begging me, pleading with me not to make a scene, not to humiliate him in front of his family. I could feel the gloating eyes of Travis and Brock, and hear Deb’s hushed, cutting whisper: “See? What good is being a hot-shot CEO? She’s still an outsider.” Slowly, I pulled my hand free. I picked up my glass of red wine and stood. I raised the glass to Richard, my smile perfect, measured, and utterly hollow. “Dad is right,” I said. “We have what we need.” I tilted my head back and drained the glass in one go. The sharp bitterness of the red wine exploded on my tongue and burned a trail all the way down to my stomach. “I’m tired. I’ll head home now.” I set the glass down, pulled out my chair, and walked out. No questions, no accusations, not a hint of lost composure. Behind me, I heard the sound of Nate abruptly standing, followed by Richard’s cold, displeased scoff. “What kind of attitude is that!” I didn’t look back. Walking out of the Callahan estate, the late-autumn night air was biting. I pulled my coat tighter and walked toward my car. Nate chased after me, grabbing my arm at the car door. “Quinn! What the hell was that?” His face was flushed, tight with anger. “You’re giving my father that kind of attitude in front of the whole family? He just recovered!” I looked at him, the man I’d loved for seven years, whose face was now etched with accusation. “Let go.” “Can’t you just be understanding for once? Dad just had heart surgery! Can’t you just play along? For the sake of the family—can’t you just suck it up? It’s a tiny bit of stock; we can earn that ourselves!” His words felt like fine needles, pricking my heart. A sudden, bitter amusement filled me. The sake of the family? Whose family? The Callahans’ family? I slowly raised my eyes, my voice clear and precise. “Nate, that fifteen million was due two months ago. I didn’t call it in, thinking we were ‘family.’ Now your father has made it clear that I’m not worthy of being part of this family.” Nate froze, his eyes darting away. “It’s… it’s been overdue for two months? Why didn’t you say anything?” “Because I held onto one last shred of hope for the Callahan name.” I opened the car door. “That hope is now gone.” I slid into the driver’s seat, rolled down the window, and looked at him one last time. “My lawyer will be at The Callahan Group tomorrow at nine AM with an overdue notice. Principal, plus interest. Not a penny less.” I started the engine and drove into the night. In the rearview mirror, Nate’s figure grew smaller until it finally vanished. 2 I didn’t go home. I drove straight to my company headquarters. Only a few emergency lights glowed in the office building at this hour, and my heels clicked a sharp, solitary rhythm on the marble floor. I unlocked the safe in my office. Two files lay inside, side-by-side. The first was the Loan Agreement. Fifteen million dollars, 6.5% annual interest, for eighteen months. Richard Callahan’s signature, with Nate as a witness. The due date was circled in red—two months ago. The second was the Supplemental Agreement. Only one page, with the most critical clause: “Should The Callahan Group successfully recover, Party B (Quinn Callahan) is entitled to acquire no less than 15% equity at a preferential price or equivalent compensation.” Black and white, stamped with the cold gleam of the notary seal. I picked up my phone and called my private attorney, Mr. Hollis. It rang five times before he answered, his voice alert—he was likely working late. “Mr. Hollis.” “Ms. Callahan, what can I do for you at this hour?” “The loan to The Callahan Group is two months overdue.” My voice was jarringly clear in the empty office. “Issue a formal demand letter tomorrow morning. Require full repayment of principal and interest within 24 hours.” Mr. Hollis drew a sharp breath. “Ms. Callahan,” he said cautiously. “Calling in the debt now… it will sever their cash flow. They just stabilized. This could be fatal.” “That is their problem.” I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The city lights blazed outside, but I felt utterly cold inside. A long silence followed on the phone. “Ms. Callahan, they are your family. Are you sure you want to—” I cut him off. “Mr. Hollis, I want you to go personally. Bring all the documents, and—bring the evidence that they issued an unauthorized shareholder dividend last month while failing to repay my mature debt.” “Understood.” Mr. Hollis’s voice steadied. “I will be at The Callahan Group at nine AM sharp. How shall I calculate the interest?” “The principal is fifteen million. The normal interest for eighteen months is $1.4625 million. The penalty interest for two months overdue is $162,500.” I recited the pre-calculated numbers. “Total due: $16,625,000. Effective tomorrow, the overdue interest will continue to accrue at a daily rate of 0.05%.” “Very well.” Mr. Hollis paused. “Ms. Callahan, are you okay?” I hesitated. He had been my attorney for seven years, witnessing my journey from start-up founder to marriage and now to this. He was one of the few who knew that $3.4 million of that fifteen million was the money from my mother’s inherited condo. “I’m fine,” I said. “I’ve never been better.” I hung up and stood by the window for a long time. Eighteen months ago, the rain had fallen, matching the anxiety in my heart. It was a Friday. I was on a conference call with investors, discussing Clarity Tech’s Series B funding. Nate called seven times in a row. I had to interrupt the meeting to call him back. “Quinn…” Nate’s voice was shaking. “My father… he’s kneeling in front of me…” When I rushed to the Callahan estate, the living room was silent. Richard was slumped on the sofa, looking utterly defeated. Travis and Brock were on the balcony, smoking, shrouded in a smoky haze. “Suppliers have stopped all deliveries, the bank pulled the credit line, the accounts are frozen,” Nate said, his eyes bloodshot. “Three hundred employees need to be paid next week. Dad says the Callahan family legacy, three generations of work, is about to be ruined in his hands.” I, the “outsider,” was invited to the family meeting that night for the first time. Travis argued for bankruptcy reorganization: “We strip the debt and start fresh.” Brock argued for selling assets: “Liquidate and walk away, at least we’ll keep some money.” They argued furiously while Richard just covered his face, his shoulders trembling. It was 11 PM when everyone else left. Richard invited me into his study alone. The main light was off, only a desk lamp glowed. In the dim, yellow light, the wrinkles on his face looked like deep ravines. “Quinn,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The Callahans… we’re out of options.” He slid a financial statement toward me. I scanned it, my heart sinking: Negative net assets, multiple overdue debts. “How much do you need?” I asked. “At least fifteen million.” Richard looked at me. “The banks won’t lend, all our assets are collateralized. Relatives and friends… I’ve asked everyone.” He suddenly rose to his feet, his knees bending slightly. I shot out of my chair in alarm. “Dad!” “Quinn, I’m begging you.” Richard didn’t fully kneel, but he bowed deeply. “Save The Callahan Group, save the family. If you do this, forever… The Callahan Group will belong to you and Nate.” He sounded sincere, his eyes red-rimmed. I was silent for a long time. “I need to discuss this with my partners,” I finally said. “Clarity Tech is in a critical funding stage. Selling my personal shares will affect the company’s valuation.” “I know… I know this is a huge ask,” Richard said, taking a draft agreement from his drawer. “Look, I wrote a supplemental clause: Once The Callahan Group recovers, you can buy in at net asset value, no less than 15% equity. I will not shortchange you.” I didn’t sleep that night. I spent three hours on the phone with my partners. One of them sighed heavily in the end. “Quinn, the semiconductor industry is booming. Liquidating your shares now means you’re losing at least double the profit potential. And… family businesses are a dark, deep pit.” “I know,” I said, watching the first light of dawn creep across the window. “But I can’t watch Nate’s father die.” I sold a portion of my personal Clarity Tech stock, liquidating twelve million dollars. Then, I sold the last property my mother left me—a small two-bedroom condo in the old town. Before she died, she held my hand and said, “Quinn, don’t ever sell this. Rent it out for your cushion. Never let anyone compromise you.” The condo sold for three million. The day I put together the fifteen million, I insisted Richard sign the formal agreement. Not distrust, but business practice. He signed readily and even called in a notary. Three weeks after the money hit his account, I felt uneasy and had my CFO quietly check The Callahan Group’s books. The result was chilling. Within a week of receiving the life-saving fifteen million, there were two abnormal expenditures: $600,000 transferred to an overseas account, memo: “Tuition Fees”—Travis’s son’s college account. Another $800,000 paid to a luxury dealership—Brock bought a new Range Rover. I placed the statement in front of Richard. His face changed, and he sighed. “Quinn, your brothers… they haven’t had a good life for years. I promise, just this once. It won’t happen again.” I didn’t press the matter. Two months ago, the loan matured. I called Richard. He chuckled over the phone. “Quinn, I’m a little tight right now. Give me a few more days. Family shouldn’t rush these things.” I said, “Okay, Dad. Let me know when it’s convenient.” One month ago, Nate mentioned it. “Dad says he’ll pay next month.” I didn’t push. A week ago, The Callahan Group suddenly issued a dividend. The brothers were ecstatic. I thought: Once Dad settles down, he’ll surely bring up the equity. I gave them two months. They used those two months to show me what oblivion and ingratitude looked like. After finalizing the details with Mr. Hollis, the sky was already turning a pale gray. My phone vibrated. A text from Nate. “Quinn, Dad is in the hospital. He had chest pains after you left last night. Can we talk?” I didn’t reply. I walked into the restroom and splashed cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror had bloodshot eyes, but her gaze was fiercely bright. At nine AM sharp, I texted Mr. Hollis: “Go.” 3 Nine-ten AM, The Callahan Group CEO’s office. Travis Callahan had just brewed a cup of tea when his secretary burst in, flustered. “Mr. Callahan! Mr. Hollis is here!” Mr. Hollis, dressed in a sharp suit, accompanied by an assistant, walked into the conference room. Travis was still holding his teacup. “Mr. Callahan, good morning.” Mr. Hollis nodded, then pulled out the documents. “As counsel for Ms. Quinn Callahan, I am formally notifying you that the loan principal is two months overdue. This is the Demand Letter. Please sign here to acknowledge receipt.”

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“Reborn twelve times, I discovered I am born cursed. As long as I live, my three brothers will die unnatural deaths. Big Brother called me a jinx, Second Brother tore my paintings and stepped on them, Third Brother publicly announced he only recognized the adopted daughter as his sister. “”Shouldn’t have brought you back in the first place! What else can you do besides causing trouble!”” The moment Big Brother’s slap fell, that out-of-control Semi-truck also arrived as promised. I used all my strength to push him away, letting the wheels crush my legs, blood splashing all over him. “”Brother, now you don’t owe me, and I don’t owe you guys either.”” After severe pain came familiar dizziness, I thought I would start over again. But this time, I heard Big Brother’s heart-wrenching cry. Strange, in this life, why didn’t my soul return to the morning, but floated in mid-air? That Grim Reaper uncle responsible for collecting bodies looked at me helplessly: “”Penelope, you died too many times, this time the system has a bug, they seem to be able to hear your inner voice.”” … Chapter 1 My soul floated lightly in mid-air. Looking down at that body crushed into pulp by the semi-truck. On the ground, Big Brother Sebastian knelt in a pool of blood. Deadly hugging my half severed limb, now emitting a howl. “”Ambulance! Call an ambulance! Whoever dares to take photos I’ll kill him!”” The Grim Reaper uncle floated to my side, black suit sharp. Holding an iPad in hand crazy clicking the screen. His brows locked tight, cursed a sentence: “”Damn it, server lag, how did it connect your brain waves to his brain?”” I ignored the Reaper, floated closer to Sebastian. Looking at Big Brother’s face covered in snot and tears, my heart had no fluctuation. I couldn’t help roasting in my heart: [Crying what funeral, I’m not even cold yet, this acting skill not going to Hollywood is a pity. If you didn’t hesitate with that slap just now, I should be able to reincarnate by now.] Big Brother’s howling stopped abruptly. He fiercely looked up, eyes covered with red bloodshot dead staring at air, veins on neck bursting out. He trembled and asked: “”Penelope? Is it you? Where are you?”” Big Brother grabbed around crazily. Blood-stained hands waved through my soul, bringing up a burst of cold wind. Doctors and nurses around scared dare not step forward. Only I floated above his head watching coldly. I remembered previous lives, that is the ninth reincarnation. That day I had a high fever of 104 degrees, begged him send me to hospital. He sat on sofa trimming cigar, didn’t even lift head, coldly said: “”Don’t play dead, Bella wants to eat Macarons from downtown, go buy.”” I died on the way to buy Macarons. [Sebastian, stop pretending deep affection, quite disgusting.] I looked at his crazy look, only felt ironic. [My legs are what you hate most, you always dislike me walking loud. Now good, they crushed into meat mud, shouldn’t you be happy? After all I can never again wear cheap sneakers step on your Persian carpet.] Big Brother whole body violently trembled. He terrified covered ears. But my voice needs no medium. It exploded directly in his brain pulp. “”I don’t dislike! Brother doesn’t dislike!”” He started crazy slapping his own face. Slap slap sound, that strength much harder than usually hitting me, cheek instantly swollen. “”Penelope you come out! Brother wrong! You don’t scare Brother!”” He incoherent roared at air, like a schizophrenic madman. I looked funny, turned head ask Grim Reaper uncle: [He is crazy? Or your Underworld now popular this kind of hospice care service? Let people see people go crazy before die, quite stress relieving.] Ambulance finally want take my corpse away. Several medical staff want pull him away. Big Brother dead alive not willing let go. Throat emit wuwu low roar. Finally was two sturdy male orderlies forcefully pry open his fingers. Click. A section of broken leg bone fell out from his arms. White forest forest, carrying bloodshot. Just right smashed on his shiny leather shoe surface. Big Brother stunned. He didn’t dislike dirty, instead careful careful picked up that section bone. Put face on it, tears snot rubbed everywhere. I sighed: [Don’t pick, dirty. Previous life didn’t you say I even bone is cheap? This is trash you personally certified, picking trash, not fit your billionaire identity.] “”Pfft…”” Big Brother spurted a mouthful fresh blood, dyed that section white bone red. He eyes rolled back, straight straight fainted at operating room door. Hand still dead clutching that section bone. Hospital corridor messy like a pot of porridge. Just when Big Brother lifted on stretcher. Second Brother Julian and Third Brother Caleb finally arrived. Second Brother wearing just awarded haute couture white suit, hair neat and shiny. He haven’t walked to front, first used handkerchief cover nose. Frowning face full of dislike looking at blood stain on ground. He didn’t ask my life death. First sentence was complain to Big Brother just pinched philtrum wake up: “”Big Brother, can you control Penelope? Bella just now at home scared heart attack almost happen, she must touch porcelain (fake accident) at this time? I have that time still want go back modify painting.”” I floated on ceiling, looking at Second Brother that aloof face, sneered once. [Here comes, classic victim blaming theory. As long as me and Bella accident same time, dead one definitely is touching porcelain, living one definitely is scared.] Big Brother originally still in trance, hearing this words, fierce bounced from stretcher. He rushed over a punch smashed on Second Brother face. Crack a sound, nose bridge bone break sound crisp pleasant to ear. Second Brother beaten dumb, whole person hit on wall. Covering nose scream: “”Big Brother you crazy? For that jinx hit me? My face!”” That resentment in my heart started churning, voice also became sharp: [Hit good, pity light a bit. Second Brother, your pair of hands can paint masterpieces handed down for generations, also can break biological sister’s fingers. Fifth reincarnation, you to force me ghostwrite, shut my right hand in door gap, that crisp sound I remember till now.] Second Brother just prepared scold back, action suddenly stiff. He terrified looked around, face instant pale: “”Who? Who is speaking?”” Grim Reaper uncle shrugged, pointed at iPad: “”Bug range expanded, full frequency broadcast.”” I continue output, staring at Second Brother that pair extremely well maintained hands: [What, can’t hear my voice? Also right, I was locked in your studio little dark room for three years, only dare make sound when let you send me meal. That painting you won gold award “”Caged Bird””, painted isn’t it me locked by you with chain? You say that is art, I think that is crime evidence.] Second Brother legs soft, knelt on ground. He looked at his own hands, eyes full of fear: “”Impossible… how you know… that is secret…”” Third Brother couldn’t watch down. He took off sunglasses and mask, pointing at Big Brother scold: “”Big Brother, you don’t be scared by some supernatural confusion! Penelope definitely not dead, hide where play god play ghost ne! She last time even secretly took my Stalker Fan photo threaten me, this woman for fame what can’t do!”” I floated to Third Brother front, blew a mouth cold air to his face. This face, really make people disgusting. [Third Brother, your fans last time pushed me down stairs, caused me concussion, didn’t you say in live stream do beautifully? Also said I was for rub your heat (clout) deliberate fell.] Third Brother only felt a stream yin cold air drill into neck, shivered a chill. I leaned to his ear: [My phone indeed has photo, but that is evidence you to abuse fans solidify fans, self let stalker fan into home. You deliberate let stalker fan harass me, then guide fans cyberbully me, say I not respect your privacy.] Third Brother like a chicken pinched neck, instant lose voice. He flustered go touch phone in pocket, fingers trembling want confirm something. I slow slow supplement: [Don’t find, that evidence I set timer send before die. Calculate time, now should already exploded on trending. Title I all named good——””Top Stream Idol For Abuse Fans, Personal Hand Send Sister To Stalker Fan Bully””. Surprise not surprise? Unexpected not unexpected?] Just then, operating room light off. Doctor pushed corpse covered white cloth out, regret shake head: “”Too tragic, simply can’t piece together, family restrain grief.”” That moment, three arrogant men simultaneous stiff. Air solidified. I looked at blood seeped out from that white cloth. Heart no a trace sadness, only a kind revenge pleasure: [Don’t look, can’t piece together. Just like back then you tore my painting, stepped broken dignity, long can’t piece together. What, just this can’t stand?] A burst rapid high heels sound broke dead silence. Bella wearing a white dress. Stumble run into corridor. Her face no makeup, appear pitiful lovable. Tears come just come, tears flow before words. She thump a sound kneel at Big Brother feet side. Hands grabbing his pant leg, cry pear blossom bring rain: “”Big Brother, all my bad, sister was to save me then… actually that car was come for me! If I not let sister go buy Macarons good le…”” Her this move retreat to advance use furnace fire pure green (perfection). If before, three brothers early hug her in arms coax. Convenient again kick me two feet, scold me not sensible let Bella sad. I floated to Grim Reaper uncle side watch play, couldn’t help applaud: [Look look, this is professional actor, Oscar owe her a Little Golden Man. Pity ah, this time script wrong. Bella, truck brake line is you use nail clipper bit by bit grind broken, I all saw.] Big Brother body fierce a shock. He lowered head look at Bella crying trembling at feet side, eyes become strange and terrifying. [When cutting you too force, accidental cut right hand index finger, now band-aid still sticking right? That is to cover wound, also to cover that smell.] Whole venue dead silence. Only Bella sobbing sound. Big Brother suddenly bend waist, fierce grab up Bella hand. Dead stare that pink band-aid on her index finger. His eyes like want eat people. Bella scared desperate shrink hand, eyes flash: “”Big Brother you grab hurt me! This… this is I peel fruit did! You hurt me!”” I light laugh once, voice echo in corridor: [Peel fruit? Whose family peel fruit will rub brake fluid into fingernail seam? You just before come special used high concentration nail polish remover wash hand, pity ah, that kind cheap industrial oil smell, how wash off? Second Brother nose so sensitive, to oil paint so sensitive, smell not?] Second Brother always kneel on ground shaking, hear this words, he like pricked by needle. He roll and crawl lean close Bella hand, force inhale a mouth air. Next second, his face become iron green, stomach a burst turn river overturn sea. “”Really is mechanical oil smell… mixed nail polish remover…”” Second Brother a throw away Bella, disbelief back retreat. Until hit wall: “”Bella, didn’t you say you even bottle cap can’t unscrew? How you go touch brake line?”” Bella thoroughly panic. She look these two brothers once obedient to her. Now look her like look monster. She start crazy drop tears, try use old trick: “”Second Brother you believe me! Sister that is ghost claim life! She is framing me! I am innocent!”” I cold hum once: [Frame? That fine. Caleb, take my broken screen phone out. My memo has a folder call Bella Crime Collection, password is 000000. Inside has a recording, is you just change finish clothes, facing mirror practice crying scene record.] Third Brother trembling hand take out my that screen sparse broken phone. He press power button, input that string simple password. A clear recording sound in dead silent corridor. That is Bella sinister and proud voice: “”As long as Penelope dead, three brothers favor all mine. This time brake fail, I see how she dodge. Even if she not die, crippled better, Big Brother will only more loathe her.”” Recording stop abruptly. Bella paralyzed on ground, face pure mask thoroughly shatter, reveal underneath hideous fear. Big Brother no any nonsense. He lift that foot wearing leather shoe, fierce kicked on this adopted daughter he pampered twenty years heart pit. “”Bang!”” Bella kicked fly two meters far. Cover chest on ground painful roll, emit a scream. I look this scene, heart no wave. I think of seventh reincarnation, she mix poison in my milk. Smile watch me seven orifices bleed. Then tell brothers I was steal drink pesticide suicide. That time no one believe me. Now truth clear, I but only feel funny. [How about it? Is this play wonderful? Fight quite lively. Pity ah, I want go reincarnate, no time watch grand finale.] Grim Reaper uncle suddenly pat my shoulder. Put iPad into briefcase. “”Penelope, time up, should go road. That Bug is repairing, take advantage this while not disconnect yet, have what last words hurry say.”” My soul start fade, lower body already turn into dot dot star light. A unprecedented pull feeling come, like want drag me into a huge black hole. Watching those three cry snot flow tears, regret mixed men. I suddenly feel should send them a big gift. Only let them know how I died too cheap. I want let them know, they exactly owe me how many lives. [Don’t cry, really noisy. You think this end? ] My voice become ethereal, directly penetrate their ear drum, resonate in brain deep place. [Tell you a secret ba. This actually is my thirteenth time die.] Big Brother just prepare go help Bella hand froze, he terrified lift head. Full face snot tears mix blood: “”Penelope what you say? What thirteenth time?”” [First life, Caleb kidney failure, I gave both kidneys to him. I pain dead on operating table, he wake up first sentence is: Penelope is for money then sell organ to me right? Dirty dead.] Third Brother fierce cover back waist. Emit a not human scream. Kneel on ground crazy kowtow: “”No… I no… ah!!”” I continue count, tone calm like reading shopping list: [Second life, Wang family bankrupt, Big Brother forced by creditor jump building. I went be that sixty years old old man plaything, paid off three hundred million for him. I was alive beaten dead in that basement, bone inch inch break. Big Brother east mountain rise again after, point my urn say I am self willing fallen slut.] Big Brother nail deep dig into flesh, blood dripping. He open big mouth, throat emit ge ge sound, like by people choke neck, breath difficult. [Third life, fire. Fourth life, car accident. Fifth life, kidnap…] [Every time I want use life exchange you live. Because system said, this is my curse, as long as I live, you must die no doubt.] My soul only left head still clear visible. [This life, I finally thought through. I not owe you anymore. That semi-truck originally was crash towards Big Brother, I pushed away you. Now, my legs gone, life also gone, curse lifted.] Grim Reaper uncle pull my hand, prepare force take away. I turn head, last look these three once was my whole world men. [Brother, this time is really eternal farewell. Next life, don’t find me again. I not do your sister, I just want be a passerby A, far from you guys.] My figure thoroughly disappear in mid-air, only leave a sentence light light sigh: [Finally, no need pain anymore.]”

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My brother was jealous that his roommate was too handsome, making a fuss for me to do a Tarot Reading, to see if his roommate had any bad luck recently. I was annoyed by the noise: “This guy has a handsome face and good fate but is a Simp. “The cards show, tomorrow night at the southeast near water, he is about to meet the love of his life. “He is about to suffer the bitterness of love, rest assured.” My brother was overjoyed, secretly followed his roommate to spy. But saw his roommate coldly reject a beauty’s approach. He scoffed: “Give you my number? Then what do I use?” Didn’t expect the next second. Roommate turned his head and met me squatting by the fountain, sniffing snot and eating a Corn Dog. He suddenly breathed heavier, earlobes turning red. “Done for, I seem to be love at first sight.” My brother dumbfounded: Not bro, have you made enough trouble? … Chapter 1 Late at night, I was concentrating on studying Astrology. Suddenly received a message from my brother: [Sis, I suspect my roommate is a copycat.] I typed a question mark. Chase resentfully threw over a spliced photo, complaining: [I just bought a gray hoodie yesterday, today Julian wore the same style! [Hehe, he can copy my outfit, but can’t replicate my aura. [Sis, who do you think is more handsome?] The left side of the photo was obviously a candid shot perspective. A bit blurry, but very atmospheric. Simple gray hoodie and jeans. But matched very refreshingly. That person wore a hat, covering half his face. But the exposed high nose bridge and thin lip lines were extremely perfect, still could see he was a big handsome guy. The right side was my brother’s mirror selfie. I laughed. Wearing a hoodie and still posing, think you are a high street boy? Legs stretched into what shape. Next season he goes to defend LeBron. I rolled my eyes, replied: [Do you have persecution delusion kid? [These two clothes only have same color, fit completely different ah. [Obviously left side handsome.] Chase sent another photo. Put his mirror selfie on left, roommate photo on right. [Sis, you really have taste, I also think I am more handsome.] I helplessly held forehead. Wow, crazy ah! I found, since school started and new dorm assigned. Chase’s mental state is precarious. Always secretly competing with his handsome roommate. But every time ended in failure. How can little handsome compare to top handsome? I was too lazy to say him. Chase sent another campus forum link, fawning said: [Dear sister, I have another request. [Some busybody posted a Campus Heartthrob vote. [Sigh, look at this matter, yours truly not talented, actually also in selection list. [I originally no intention chase fame chase profit, but masses eyes are bright, I voted to second place. [Matter to this, you also help me vote one bei.] I really suspect, that busybody is himself. College already, who would be so bored to do heartthrob selection. I helplessly clicked in. But without warning was shocked by handsomeness a big jump! Holy cow! First place is my brother’s that roommate Julian again. Don’t know where the poster got the photo. That was a candid shot of Julian exercising in the gym. He was lowering head wearing gloves, knuckles distinct, veins protruding. Hiss, looks like “cooking” will be very powerful… He was also wearing a tight short sleeve. Outlining broad shoulders and thin waist lines. And, and pecs so big oh, that groove also too eye-catching… Who said heartthrob selection boring. This selection simply too great! I was too lazy to flip photos below. Backhand voted for Julian. Male mom, male mom we like you~ I replied Chase: [OK, voted.] This silly boy still secretly happy ne: [Sis, you really good! [Love you old sis see you tomorrow (¯︶¯).] Chapter 2 My brother tossed for half a month for heartthrob selection. But finally lost without suspense. Weekend home. Eating at dinner table, he was still a look of soul out of body dead sample. I lazy to care him. Back to study room continue concentrate study my favorite metaphysics. But door suddenly opened. Chase sneakily slipped in. Saw Tarot Cards on table, instantly eyes lit up. “Sis, coincidence, you are looking at Tarot.” He poked fingers again, face embarrassed said: “That, that, I just happen to have something want find you calculate ne.” My family is metaphysics family, proficient in fortune telling. But Chase is a pig brain. Since small know nothing about this aspect. I kept vigilance: “Why not find Mom Dad, want find me? “If want calculate wicked things, I won’t do.” Chase not straight gas not strong, dryly said: “This, this scholar matter how can call wicked ne!” But speaking of others bad words. He forgot emotion, ruthless again: “Mainly that Julian, too annoying. “No, I all congratulated him voted as heartthrob, result he lightly said a sentence—— “Indeed, no opponents. “I really f*ck ah, why he so pretentiously!?” Chase beat chest stomp feet: “Midterm exam I so hard work, just to surpass him in other places. “Result he didn’t review at all and tested first! “I practice four hours in gym everyday, result arm circumference still smaller than him four cm. “Sis, I really can’t live, I don’t believe someone can be so perfect, could it be his life has no frustration at all?!” I listened want hold forehead bitter laugh. Not, my brother so focus Julian is crush on him ma? Chase again mysteriously handed me a note, whispered: “Sis, I got his birthday. “Can you help me calculate, does he have any bad things happen recently? “Seeing him live not good, then I rest assured.” I flatly refused: “No obligation help you. “I won’t associate with despicable villain like you.” Chase let out wail. He tremblingly took out phone. [Your card ending 0213 received transfer $200.00, remark: Voluntary Gift.] Chase eagerly looked at me: “This is my all savings, Sis, pity me ba. “Beg you, wuwuwuwuwu, beg you beg you beg you!” My god. Feel have a super invincible big mosquito always buzzing in my ear ah! I was noisy by him headache, helpless said: “Don’t annoy. “I help you calculate one hexagram, but just normal look, what might happen next. “I won’t help you calculate bad things, this too wicked.” Chase nod like garlic pounding. I seriously laid out cards. Result actually quite interesting. Shows Julian is that kind of face cold heart hot person ne… And, tomorrow is a special date? I pondered: “This guy face handsome fate good but is a Simp. “Cards show, tomorrow night 7-9 PM, southeast near water place, he is about to meet love of his life. “He immediately want eat love bitter, rest assured.” Chase overjoyed: “Actually have such opportunity?! “Then I tomorrow will track him, see who his true destiny girl exactly is. “Sis, you go with me bei, then you can personal verify yourself calculate accurate not accurate.” I disdain: “Boring.” Chase endure pain said: “That is another price right? I understand.” He turn out door, hug Dad thigh start wail: “Dad, charity point living expense, beg you!” …Fine ba. Received another $300 from Chase. I barely difficultly agreed to be dark mouse with him. Chapter 3 Next morning. Chase non-stop rushed back to school. He was Julian’s follower for a whole day, just to real-time master whereabouts. Seeing hexagram show time fast arrived. Chase sent location. Call me come together witness true destiny girl descend history moment. Just arrived school back street. I was pulled by Chase into hidden bush beside fountain. He look east look west, extremely small voice said: “Sis, we now are spies. “Must be careful careful again careful.” …I submit. Chase do bad things, really have endless strength and means ah. Saying true, he harder than girls chasing Julian right? Chase again face excited pointed southeast. Julian sure enough appeared. Motorcycle off, he took off helmet. Messy bangs scattered in night wind, he casual tidied. Under dim light more appear his expression unruly, face indifferent. Have girl push luggage, hold milk tea, lower head play phone. Unexpectedly bumped into Julian. Simply idol drama like plot. Big wave tall beauty, look special pretty. She flustered apologize to Julian: “Sorry sorry! “Just now didn’t look road, bumped you, sorry ah.” Julian side body let her, faintly said: “It’s okay.” Girl look front vertical down steps, some difficult. She bit lip, looked Julian few eyes: “Classmate, can trouble you help me carry luggage a bit? “Road ahead bit not good walk.” Julian didn’t speak. Just action neat took luggage. Tsk, gym person just have strength ah, super easy helped her carry down. I watched with relish, also bought a Corn Dog at stall next door. Wow, watch idol drama how can not match point snacks ne! But didn’t notice beside Chase bit bit black face. Girl very worship stare Julian. Turn again quite shy lowered eyes. She careful careful handed milk tea in hand to Julian. “Classmate, thank you oh. “I treat you drink milk tea, can exchange your number (Snapchat/Instagram) ma?” Coming coming! Love this not coming ma! But Julian slightly frowned brows. Originally is iceberg face, in mood unhappy time appear colder. “Tsk, I don’t drink milk tea. “Number give you, I use what?” He bypass beauty straight walk forward. Ah? Plot not right ba? Girl stunned in place, face still remain hurt after rejected. Chase angry low roar: “Not, Julian based on what treat her like this?! “How even girl I like want rob away ah! “No, I must hurry go comfort her!” I watch helplessly Chase fly run past help beauty carry luggage. I blankly bit a mouth Corn Dog. What, could it be I calculated wrong? But I never missed ah… Thought too absorbed, I completely didn’t realize eat is filling meatball. Juice inside squirt out. I scalded out pain mask, non-stop hiss ha hiss ha. Julian suddenly look back. I just so embarrassed squat beside fountain. Sucking snot, eyes contain tears look him. Just now incomparable calm cool Julian. Actually suddenly heavy breath, unaware red earlobe. His Adam’s apple rolled once, lost mind self talk: “Done for, I seem one… love.” Voice extremely low, I didn’t how hear clear. Julian stand firm in front of me, again bend down level with me. From bag take out a bottle new unopened water. Just like this eyes sincere and slightly shy looking me. Also not speak, just there tempt people. Very understanding ah. Is he want help scalded me ma? Ghost messenger god send like, I subconscious said: “You want use water exchange what? “You want my number not?” Chapter 4 Julian ear tip red more severe. Connected neck all dye a layer thin pink. He nodded, tone also from cold become like spring snow melt: “Want. “So, can ma?” Julian and me distance so close. Now this terrible posture. I just right can look down to his chest. Black tight sweater sure enough is clothes man can wear most slutty ah… So big pecs, in front my eyes shake come shake go. He all face red like that, then some places will or not also pink pink (///▽///)… Wait, I all thinking point what ah! I stopped flying thoughts, again and again nod said: “Can can, I give you QR code.” Julian open phone. Action extremely fast on screen light click few times. Didn’t expect. Next second actually sound huge broadcast sound: [Ding dong, payment received $5200.] Julian face completely no question. Only unease worry be rejected: “Enough ma? “Not enough I transfer you again.” I person silly. I want open friend code. How accidental click open payment code!! I hand busy foot messy switch back. Eye seeing finally added friend with Julian. I just want open mouth explain to him. But suddenly hear a collapse scream: “Holy sh*t, I just left a while then stolen home? “Julian, what you doing!”

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Everyone thought I was the Mrs. Vance, pampered in the palm of Julian Vance’s hand. But in five years of marriage, I haven’t spent a penny of Julian’s money. The Century Wedding held was sponsored by brands. Even various supplies at the wedding were gifts from partners. Until five years later, my mom was critically ill and urgently needed medical expenses. I gritted my teeth and used Julian’s bank card to pay. The next day, I received a lawyer’s letter from Julian. “Pay back the money within three days, or else, I cut off your mom’s medicine.” I forced my tears back, worked several jobs a day, even borrowed from everyone around. The night I paid back the money, I went to the hotel private room, but bumped into him pinning his former secretary against the wall, handing over a Black Card. “Hailey, where a man’s money is, his heart is.” “Hundreds of millions of assets all for you, don’t leave me okay?” I froze all over. Hailey smiled and refused. “So much money, but it’s joint property of you and Scarlett Sterling, if you give it to me like this, your wife will be unhappy.” Mentioning me, Julian sneered. “That Gold Digger, back then designed to climb into my bed and fired you, marrying her was just to help you vent a bad breath.” “Hailey, as long as you agree to marry me.” “I won’t hesitate, immediately kick that Gold Digger.” … Chapter 1 My body stiffened in place, hands and feet cold. Gold Digger. Married for five years, I basically wouldn’t ask Julian for money. Except when it was extremely difficult, I had to open my mouth to Julian. But every time. Julian would always sigh and say to me, “Company cash flow is tight, we have to be frugal.” So I listened, and believed. Could avoid, always would avoid giving him trouble. Even if really forced to use Julian’s money. Also had to return it within the deadline he set. Everyone thought I was the glorious and pampered Mrs. Vance. But no one knew after marriage I always worked as an independent woman, also responsible for the expenses of a big family. Now, just because of a medical fee. I became the Gold Digger in Julian’s mouth. Even more, that night he got drunk and we had relations, in his view was also my scheming design. Even marrying me back then, was just to vent anger for ex-secretary Hailey. Tears dropped, blown away by cold wind. I don’t remember how I walked out of the private room. I stood by the river for a long time, thought a lot, especially Hailey’s face lingering in my mind. Probably five years ago. When Julian and I just got married. I bumped into Julian and the little secretary deep kissing with the help of alcohol at the company annual party. That time I was young and couldn’t hold my temper, went up and slapped Hailey. Red eyes scolded her: “Company is not a place for you to seduce men!” “Holding someone else’s husband to kiss, are you so shameless!” That slap. Made Julian determined to fire Hailey. After calming down, he apologized to me more than once. “Scarlett, that day was just a misunderstanding.” “Colleagues all drank too much, Secretary Hailey mistook me for another man.” Clearly his lie was so lame, but I still self-deceptively believed it. After being fired from the company, Hailey was independent and strong, she refused to accept Julian’s money and compensation. Ran out to start her own business, selling goods in front of TikTok Live camera. Julian swiped five hundred orders every day, forcedly praised Hailey into a top sales anchor. Hailey knew, returned all the things back. “Don’t spend money recklessly in the future, otherwise your wife will be unhappy.” She turned and went abroad. Since then Julian acted like nothing happened, being a loving couple with me in front of people. Five years later, his company grew bigger and stronger, directly moved the headquarters abroad to Paris. In a few days, Julian was going to take me abroad to hold the relocation ceremony. When Julian came back, I returned the gathered money to him. “Not a penny less, you take it well.” “Mm.” Julian unceremoniously took it back, turned to transfer money to Hailey on phone screen. Looking up saw my face gloomy, Julian smiled, subconsciously explained. “Scarlett, don’t blame me for being stingy, I do this also to cultivate you.” “After all money in my hand is all our joint property, in the future all yours too.” I lowered my head sneering, didn’t speak. I saw Hailey wearing that luxury necklace named “Heart of the Ocean” Julian gave me last year on her neck today. After attending a grand banquet. After receiving others’ praise and flattery. After Julian gained the reputation of loving wife. It mysteriously disappeared. I searched every corner of the house, didn’t find it, now saw it on Hailey’s neck. On the way back, I had a bellyful of questions, wanted to ask Julian. But now didn’t want to say a word. Blink of an eye to the relocation ceremony in Paris. Just got off the flight, Julian took assistant hurriedly went to company first. I following behind was covered by a sack, stuffed into a strange black car. I tear-heart-crack-lung shouted Julian’s name. But he never turned back once. I was stuffed into the car. Julian excitedly tidied his attire, went to meet Hailey with a grand posture. “Hailey, look at me.” “To see you conveniently, I already moved the headquarters abroad.” Julian held her hand, deeply affectionately placed on his own face. “Those things you wanted back then I have all, what others can give you, I can give you.” Hailey wearing Chanel suit, seemed shocked by man’s deep affection, small mouth slightly open, confused looking at him. “Julian Vance, no…” She wanted to refuse, half push half accept. Man however domineeringly lowered head kissed up. Watching the scene in phone screen, my tears couldn’t help sliding down. Bias beside voice mockingly sounded. “Darling, I said your husband doesn’t love you.” “What are you doing with this kind of man? Might as well divorce and follow me.” Man took off mask on face. Revealed that familiar face. Chapter 2 Liam Quinn. My childhood sweetheart, chased me for many years before marriage. Liam is a complete Yandere (Sickly Possessive), I thought after marrying Julian, he went abroad and cut off thoughts. Didn’t expect waiting for me here. He raised hand stroked my face, action incomparably deep affection. “You look at your husband, now holding other woman in arms, a little secretary from five years ago still so unforgettable, your husband really no ambition.” “Keeping body like jade for such an unworthy man, don’t you feel aggrieved?” I teary eyed looked at the scene in phone screen. Hailey half push half accept, forcefully pushed Julian away. “Julian Vance, don’t be like this!” “Last time returning to country for business trip, in private room I already said clearly. I impossible accept you, you think about your wife Scarlett, if she knows you are so obsessed with other woman now, how sad would she be?” “I already fled abroad, you don’t pester me anymore…” Julian silently looked at her leaving back. Didn’t chase up. Just like made up determination, faintly spit out few words. “I can divorce.” Hailey froze, slowly turned back. “What did you say?” Julian low voice repeated: “I never loved Scarlett Sterling.” “Hailey, just like said last time, as long as you willing accept me, I can immediately divorce with her.” Saying he walked forward, carefully held Hailey’s hand. “And these five years we are just surface couple, I never touched her at all.” Julian didn’t tell lie. These five years, every time he got drunk, locked himself in study, venting to Hailey’s photo. To me this wife loving in front of people, he always hide as far as can. Hailey was moved, tears in eyes. “Julian, why bother? I am a secretary…” She hadn’t finished her last word, was blocked by Julian with mouth. Soon, their arms entangled together, kissing inseparable. I always calmly looked at them. Time so long that, Liam looked at me with eyes full of sympathy and panic. “Scarlett, if you sad you can cry…” I laughed, said to Liam: “Okay, I can marry you, but you have to promise me a condition——” “I want divorce, want Julian leave with nothing, let him, peel off a layer of skin.” This answer obviously made Liam satisfied. Liam let me out. He gave me three days time, let me do good handover. “Scarlett, don’t think playing any tricks, now Julian already moved company headquarters abroad, you can’t return country for a while.” He bought me favorite strawberry cake, piled full yard roses, warm hospitality me. He said as long as I willing nod, can return everything originally belong to me back. Even can help take assets under Julian name all to me. Good woman get reputation, bad woman get everything. Although I didn’t get love, that property should have right? After all I was Julian’s good wife deeply loved for five years. Can’t just bear reputation, not take benefit. I agreed to this cooperation. When went back, I just entered door saw Julian iron green face. Distance my missing already passed three days. He didn’t ask me how I passed these three days, where I went, and how came back. Just voice cold concise told me: “Trouble you caused, now need you to solve.” I then knew. Yesterday, paparazzi secretly took photos of Influencer Hailey and Julian intimate actions. Some insider added oil added vinegar on internet, talked about details of Julian cheating with his secretary. Hailey now pushed to wind mouth wave tip by cyberbullying, constantly losing followers, she anxious don’t know what to do. “Need you come out to clarify.” Julian already sat whole afternoon, just waiting me agree go attend press conference. He required me clarify couple feeling not broken, help Hailey refute rumors. I calmly looked at him, “Based on what you think I will agree?” Julian coldly lifted eyes. “Don’t forget, if not because of you, Hailey today simply wouldn’t need suffer this kind of cyberbullying.” I laughed. Five years ago, after that drunken time, they dry wood fierce fire, almost lay on one bed. Was me unintentionally took reporter best friend break in. That day matter exposed. Hailey couldn’t stay in domestic circle, for reputation, for hiding wind head, could only go abroad. Julian surface said nothing, but actually always hated me. “That day I have things, can’t go press conference.” “You can have what things?” Julian sneered, directly threw that document on my face. “As long as you clarify, help Hailey solved this crisis, company 10% shares will transfer to your name.” Seeing Share Transfer Agreement few big words, I stunned. This 10% shares. I fought for five years, didn’t succeed. My dad critically ill urgent need medical fee, I even knelt in front of Julian begged him. Let him save my dad, want me do what all willing. But that time, Julian how did ne? He dead choked my neck. “If not because you took that broken reporter, ruined Hailey reputation, her mom wouldn’t mind restless, car accident on road!” “These are all your retribution!” That time Julian, not only didn’t help my dad raise medical fee, instead instructed those doctors not save people. Now holding this share transfer agreement. Julian started second time threat. “If I remember correctly, your brother should be sent by you to this country study middle school right?” Julian eyes full of threat meaning. “If Hailey unable pass this crisis, then your brother, afraid also no school can go.” Chapter 3 He took out phone, called out a photo. Blood all brain surged to top of head, I couldn’t help slapped him a slap. “Julian Vance, are you still human?” He however coldly stared at me. “Scarlett Sterling, this slap, and those accounts before, I will add up calculate with you.” I couldn’t help bitter smile. Turns out, already passed five years, he still hates me. In front of Hailey, he is a dead Yandere. Even when Hailey hit him. He also didn’t angry, instead that night wrote in his diary: “Came before slap, is fragrance on Hailey body.” But only to me, so cold, and so vicious. Julian threatened with my brother. Half day, I showed bitter smile, spine bent down. “Okay, I agree.” “Go attend press conference.” I agreed very crisp, Julian sighed relief, satisfied looked me up and down. “As long as you settle all this, return Hailey innocence, I can consider accompany you tonight.” That high above charity tone. Made me feel stomach overturn river sea, even throat couldn’t help want dry vomit. “No need, you better go accompany your secretary.” I mocking open mouth. Brush past his shoulder, leave. Full five years, I always slept alone. Everyone thought me and Julian how loving, but actually me this wife just a decoration. This kind of days I long lived enough, so I willing make space for Hailey. Blink eye to conference site. Julian as always created loving wife persona, opened car door for me, helped me hold skirt hem. Magnesium light shone on me. Reporters swarmed. “Miss Sterling, you appear at conference site today, is heard your husband and anchor Hailey scandal ma?” “Miss Sterling, heard Anchor Hailey before was you and Mr. Julian Vance secretary, they between have ambiguous relationship, is this true false?” “Miss Sterling, your husband public give you wear green hat, how you can still so loving attend event with him ah?” … Reporters sharp words pounced face come. Julian pinched on my arm, when lowered head, calmly whispered in my ear. “Turn to you to clarify, say clear point.” I face hung smile, took microphone. “Believe previous period everyone definitely heard, my husband Julian and Anchor Hailey matter, noise boiling.” “Today come attend this press conference, I just want tell everyone——” Saying I tone paused. Face to face took out a pregnancy test report from bag. “This is my husband’s child.” Julian fierce lift head look me, eyes meaning unclear, seem also very surprised. Hailey standing beside, lips tight purse, face pale staring me. Those reporters also one after another gossip up, scene instant boil. “Miss Sterling, are you pregnant? But how I look not too like ah?” “Main wife all come out clarify, people two feeling good ne, you guys don’t blind spread rumors…” “Looks like Miss Sterling and Mr. Julian are true love, people not know situation, don’t blind say, okay not okay?” In their words, I opened mouth: “You guys misunderstood.” I smiling pointed Hailey beside. “Pregnant person of course is our big anchor, Miss Hailey.”

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