After my sister drowned that summer, my mom lost her mind. She set a rule: on odd-numbered days, I was Maya. On even-numbered days, I was Lily. When I was playing Lily, I had to wear a pair of red Mary Jane shoes, two sizes too small, and dance ballet in the living room, even if my toes bled. When I was playing myself, I could only eat stale, hard bread, because Maya was a sinner who didn’t deserve meat. I endured it for three years, until she smashed the art supplies I’d secretly saved up for, declaring that Lily wasn’t grown up yet, so no one was allowed to draw. That’s when I finally snapped. I smashed Lily’s favorite music box. It was almost eleven at night when my mom forced me to put on those red shoes. Today was the second, an even-numbered day. I was Lily. Lily loved to dance, and Lily had a pair of red Mary Jane shoes. But Lily was only eight when she died. I was seventeen this year. Those tiny shoes, probably a child’s size eight or ten, didn’t fit my feet at all. “Put them on.” My mom sat on the couch, holding a clothes hanger, her eyes fixed on me. I gritted my teeth, curling my toes, and painfully crammed my feet inside. The heel of the shoe dug into my ankle, breaking the skin. “Not on right. Do it again.” The clothes hanger whipped my calf, leaving a red mark. I didn’t flinch. I pulled my foot out, took a deep breath, and shoved it back in with force. This time, my toe bones made a soft clicking sound, and the shoes finally slipped on. It hurt. An excruciating pain. “Dance.” My mom pressed the play button on the boombox. The music of “Swan Lake” filled the cramped living room. I rose onto my tiptoes and began to twirl around the room. The floor was hard, and the soles of the red shoes were even harder. With every turn, my toes felt like they were being pricked by needles. Blood trickled down my heels, soaking into my white socks, turning dark red. My mom watched me, a satisfied smile on her face. “Lily dances so beautifully,” she murmured to herself. “Lily will be a great dancer someday.” I bit my lip, twirling silently. Three years. Every even-numbered day for three years, I had to dance in this living room. Sometimes for half an hour, sometimes for two hours. I couldn’t stop until my mom got tired of watching and fell asleep. Today, she was full of energy. She watched me dance for a full hour. Just as I was about to collapse, she suddenly stood up. She walked towards my desk. My heart sank. In the desk drawer were the art supplies I’d secretly saved up for. On odd-numbered days, I was Maya. Maya loved to draw. But my mom wouldn’t let me. She’d say Lily wasn’t grown up yet, Lily hadn’t learned to draw, so why should Maya get to? She pulled open the drawer. “Mom!” I stopped dancing, ignoring the pain in my feet, and lunged towards her. Too late. She had already taken out the paints. “What is this?” She turned, looking at me coldly. “Mom, that’s my—” “I asked you, what is this?!” Her voice suddenly rose, sharp and grating. “Paints.” “Who told you to buy them?” “I saved my own money…” “Lily doesn’t draw!” she shrieked hysterically, slamming the box of paints onto the floor. The plastic box shattered. Colorful paints splattered out, staining the floor. Still not appeased, she picked up my sketchbook, and with a ripping sound, tore it in half. It was a half-filled sketchbook. Inside were drawings of the sky, of flying birds, of a world without Lily and without a crazy mom. Now, it was all destroyed. She threw the torn pieces of paper in my face. “I told you, Lily isn’t grown up yet, no one is allowed to draw!” The edge of a paper piece grazed my cheek, a small sting. I looked at the mess on the floor, at the vivid colors and shredded paper. The last thread in my heart suddenly snapped. I didn’t cry. I turned and walked towards the TV stand. On the TV stand sat a pink music box. My mom had bought it for Lily on her eighth birthday. Lily loved that music box the most. My mom polished it every day, not allowing even a speck of dust. I walked over and picked up the music box. My mom froze. “What are you doing?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Lily doesn’t draw,” I said, looking at her, enunciating each word. “And Lily won’t listen to music boxes anymore.” I raised the music box and slammed it onto the floor. Bang! Its plastic shell shattered into pieces. The little ballerina doll inside popped out, its mainspring broken, emitting a grating metallic screech. The living room fell into a deathly silence. Only the boombox continued to play “Swan Lake.” My mom stared blankly at the fragments on the floor. Her face was as white as paper. I thought she would hit me. I thought she would beat me half to death with the clothes hanger. I was ready for it. But she didn’t. She slowly crouched down, picking up the little doll with a broken leg. Her hands trembled violently. “Mom.” I gasped, shouting out the words I’d held in for three years: “Lily is dead! She died three years ago! Drowned in the pool! If you hadn’t been so busy playing cards and hadn’t watched her, how would she have fallen in?!” She flinched. The broken doll in her hand dropped to the floor. She looked up at me. Her eyes filled with fear, despair, and disbelief. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I looked at her coldly. “I was the one who found her by the pool. I was the one who pulled her out. Her body was bloated and ice-cold.” “It wasn’t my fault.” “It was never my fault.” “You killed her.” I took off the red shoes and threw them at her feet. “I don’t want to be Lily anymore.” I turned and walked back to my room, locking the door behind me. That night, there was no sound from the living room. No crying, no shouting, nothing. The next morning, I pushed open my bedroom door. The living room was spotlessly clean. The paint stains were gone, the shredded paper was gone, and the music box fragments were gone. The red shoes were neatly placed on the shoe rack. My mom wasn’t in the living room. I walked to the TV stand. On the wall, where Lily’s photo used to hang, there was a white piece of paper. On it, a cold, diagonal tally mark was drawn with a black marker. Beside it was a line of text. The handwriting was neat, the ink pressed deeply into the paper. “Maya, from today on, you are Lily every day.”

The words on the wall felt like a curse. I stared at the line for a moment, then tore the white paper off, crumpled it, and threw it into the trash. I put on my school uniform, grabbed my backpack, and left. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. The pot was empty; my mom wasn’t home. I didn’t know where she went, and I didn’t want to know. At school, the first class was literature. I sat in the back row. The desk next to me was empty. No one wanted to sit with me. Because I was “sick.” Lily had asthma. My mom’s rule was that when I played Lily, I had to take medication regularly. To avoid her finding out, I put vitamin tablets into the asthma medicine bottle and brought them to school to take. I also had to pretend to cough, pretend to struggle for breath. Over time, everyone in class knew that Maya had a crazy sister, and that Maya herself wasn’t normal. “Schizo.” That was the nickname they called me behind my back. During recess, I stayed in the classroom. Because Lily couldn’t engage in strenuous activity. A few girls walked in from outside, laughing and chatting. When they saw me, their laughter paused, then they deliberately lowered their voices, but still loud enough for me to hear. “Look, the schizo is playing dead again.” “I heard her mom’s crazy too, always picking up trash on the streets.” “So gross, she was just taking pills. Who knows what she’s actually taking.” I kept my head down, staring at the words in my textbook, pretending not to hear. Suddenly, a hand slapped my desk. I looked up. It was Chloe. Chloe was a top student, good grades, pretty, and popular. She looked at the girls, frowning. “What are you guys talking about? The bell rang, don’t you need to get back to your seats?” The girls pouted and dispersed. Chloe pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I’m fine,” my voice was cold. “You didn’t take your medicine today.” She stared at my half-open backpack. My heart tightened. “Forgot it.” “Don’t you have asthma? You forgot your medicine?” She looked into my eyes, as if trying to see through me. “It’s not serious,” I turned my head to look out the window. Chloe didn’t press further. She pulled an old-fashioned caramel candy from her pocket and placed it on my desk. “Here.” I looked at the candy. Lily liked caramel candy. Maya didn’t; Maya found it too sweet, sickly sweet. “I don’t eat candy.” I pushed the candy back. Chloe paused. “Didn’t you used to love them?” I didn’t say anything. Before was before, now was now. Last night I smashed the music box, I took off the red shoes. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. Chloe sighed and put the candy back. “Maya,” she suddenly called my name. I turned my head. “I actually know,” she lowered her voice. “You don’t really have asthma, do you?” My hands clenched. “I saw you switch the medicine bottles,” she said. “You poured out the white pills and put in yellow vitamins.” I stared at her, my heart pounding fast. “What do you want?” I asked. “I don’t want anything,” she looked at me. “I just think you’re living too hard.” “It’s none of your business.” I stood up and walked out of the classroom.

It was gym class in the afternoon. The shuttle run test. I stood by the track, watching others warm up. The coach blew his whistle. “Maya, are you running today?” Everyone’s eyes were on me. Usually, I’d bring a doctor’s note to be excused. But today, I didn’t have one. My mom hadn’t prepared it for me last night. “Yes,” I said. A ripple of whispers went through the crowd. “Doesn’t she have asthma?” “Must be faking it, she looks fine usually.” “She’s a schizo, probably a different personality today.” I ignored them and walked to the starting line. Chloe stood beside me, giving me a glance. “Can you do it?” “Yes.” The whistle blew, and I sprinted off. I ran fast. The wind whistled past my ears. I wanted to run out all the pent-up frustration in my heart. I wanted to prove that I was a healthy person, that I wasn’t Lily, that I didn’t have asthma. The first lap, I was in the lead. The second lap, my breathing became ragged. Not faking it, I was genuinely tired. It had been too long since I had done any strenuous exercise. My lungs felt like they were burning, and there was a metallic taste of blood in my throat. The sound of footsteps behind me grew closer. Chloe overtook me. Other girls also passed me one by one. I gritted my teeth, my eyes fixed on the track ahead. Can’t stop. If I stopped, I was Lily. If I kept running, I was Maya. The last lap. My legs felt heavy as lead. My vision started to blur. I heard someone calling my name. “Maya! You got this!” It was Chloe. I pushed with all my might and crossed the finish line. Then, my legs gave out, and I fell to my knees on the synthetic track. I gasped for air, sweat blurring my eyes. Someone offered me a bottle of water. I looked up. It was Chloe. “Drink some water.” I took the water, twisted open the cap, and guzzled a large mouthful. “You ran pretty fast,” she smiled. I managed a weak smile back. Just then, a harsh voice cut through the air. “Well, well, the asthma patient can run now? Didn’t die, huh?” It was Jake. The class troublemaker. He walked over with a few other guys, looking down at me. “Maya, your acting’s terrible. Yesterday you were coughing your guts out, and today you can run? Is your illness intermittent or something?” The people around them snickered. I tightened my grip on the water bottle. “Mind your own business,” I said coldly. “Got a temper, do we?” Jake stepped closer. “I heard your mom’s a psycho. Did you inherit it?” My head buzzed. I shot up, and the mineral water bottle in my hand smacked him square in the face. Water splashed all over him. Jake froze. The whole field fell silent. “You fucking hit me?” Jake yelled, regaining his senses, and shoved me hard. I was already out of strength, and his push sent me tumbling to the ground. My palms scraped, oozing blood. “Jake! What are you doing!” Chloe stepped in front of me. “Chloe, stay out of this!” Jake pointed at me. “This crazy bitch hit me first!” “You started by insulting her!” Chloe stood her ground. The coach ran over. “What’s going on! Are you rebelling!” Jake and I were both called to the principal’s office. The principal was a bald, middle-aged man. He slammed his fist on the desk, spittle flying from his mouth. “Fighting! You dare to fight! Maya, it’s bad enough you fake illnesses, now you’re hitting other students?” I kept my head down, looking at the blood on my palms, and said nothing. “Jake, you too! Why are you picking a fight with a girl?” Jake rolled his eyes. “Call your parents!” The dean of students issued a final ultimatum. “Bring your parents in tomorrow!” My heart sank. Call my parents. My mom. If my mom came, the whole school would know what kind of person she was. Everyone would see her madness. I looked up at the dean. “Dean, my mom is sick. She can’t come.” “Sick? What kind of sickness?” “Mental illness.” The office suddenly fell silent. The dean froze. Jake froze too. I looked at their shocked expressions and suddenly found it somewhat amusing. “She’s crazy,” I said calmly. “She can’t come. If you want to expel me, go ahead.” With that, I turned and walked out of the office. Behind me, I heard the principal’s enraged roar. I ignored it.

I walked out of the school building, the sunlight so bright it made my eyes water. I didn’t want to go back to class, and I didn’t want to go home. I wandered aimlessly through the streets. As I passed a stationery store, I stopped. In the display window was a set of watercolors. Exactly like the set my mom smashed last night. I stood outside the window and watched for a long time. It wasn’t until dark that I turned and walked towards home. The stairwell of our apartment complex always smelled of mildew. The light had been broken for a long time; no one fixed it. I climbed the three flights of stairs in the dark. Just as I reached the third-floor landing, I heard an argument from upstairs. “Are you crazy?! Knocking on doors in the middle of the night!” It was a man’s voice. Unfamiliar. My heart tightened, and I sped up, running to the fourth floor. The door on the left on the fourth floor was open. A man in a tank top, with tattooed arms, stood in the doorway, holding a baseball bat, his face furious. My mom stood opposite him. She was holding a stack of old newspapers. Her hair was a mess, her eyes vacant. “Where’s Mr. Henderson?” my mom murmured, “I’m bringing Mr. Henderson his newspapers. Lily said Mr. Henderson likes to hear her read the newspapers.” “What Mr. Henderson! My name is Stone! I just moved in a month ago! If you knock on my door again, I’ll break your legs!” The man waved the baseball bat in his hand. I rushed forward and pulled my mom behind me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I apologized repeatedly. “My mom isn’t well, she got the wrong apartment. Please don’t take it personally.” The man sized me up, then snorted. “Keep your crazy people locked up! Don’t let them out to scare people!” With that, he slammed the door shut. Silence returned to the stairwell. I turned and looked at my mom. She was still holding the stack of newspapers, staring blankly at the closed door. “Mom,” I tugged on her sleeve, “Let’s go home.” “Where’s Mr. Henderson?” She turned to me. “Where did Mr. Henderson go?” “Mr. Henderson’s son moved him out a year ago. This apartment was sold.” “Impossible.” She shook her head. “Lily said yesterday she was going to read newspapers to Mr. Henderson. Lily doesn’t lie.” My temper flared. “Lily is dead!” I yelled at her. “She died three years ago! She can’t read newspapers! Can you just snap out of it?!” I snatched the newspapers from her hand and threw them hard on the ground. The newspapers scattered everywhere. They were dated three years ago. My mom froze. She looked at the newspapers on the floor, then slowly crouched down. She began to pick them up, one by one. The stairwell was dark; I couldn’t see her expression. But I could hear her suppressed sobs. “Lily isn’t dead,” she said as she picked them up. “Lily is right here. She’s just being naughty and hiding.” I looked at her hunched back, and tears suddenly streamed down my face. I hated her. I hated her for forcing me to pretend to be Lily, for smashing my paints, for making me a laughingstock at school. But I also pitied her. She was trapped in that summer three years ago, unable to move on. I crouched down and helped her pick up the newspapers. “Mom, let’s go home,” my voice softened. She didn’t speak, just clutched the newspapers tightly.

Back home, the living room still had that cold, desolate look. My mom placed the newspapers on the coffee table, then walked into the kitchen. A moment later, she came out with a bowl of noodles. a bowl of plain, watery oatmeal, utterly bland, without a hint of flavor or richness. “Eat,” she placed the noodles in front of me. I looked at the bowl of noodles, my stomach churning. Odd days meant vegetarian, even days meant meat. Today was the third, an odd day. I was Maya. Maya was a sinner, unworthy of meat. I picked up my fork, speared a noodle, and put it in my mouth. No taste. Like chewing on cardboard. I forced myself to swallow, suppressing the nausea, and finished the bowl of noodles. My mom sat opposite me, watching me the whole time. “You didn’t take your medicine today,” she suddenly said. My hand, holding the fork, paused. “I forgot.” “Lily can’t forget her medicine.” “Today I’m Maya.” I looked up, meeting her eyes. She froze for a moment. “Maya,” she repeated the name, her gaze slowly turning cold. “Why doesn’t Maya just die?” My heart clenched.

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Seven years together, and on the day we were supposed to put down the deposit for our future home, Ethan didn’t show. He sent a message: “Chloe had a small car accident. She’s really shaken up, so I need to stay with her at the hospital.” “Let’s sign for the apartment next week. I’m going to marry you anyway, what’s a few extra days?” “Don’t overthink it. She’s all alone in a new city; I just see her as a sister.” I stared at the bank card in my hand, calmly typed one word: “Okay.” Then, I turned around and bought the apartment outright, putting only my name on the title. At the same time, Chloe posted on Instagram: “When I was most scared, my superhero appeared out of nowhere. The hospital smells like disinfectant, but his embrace feels so safe.” The post included a photo of Ethan’s back, covering her with his jacket in the emergency room hallway. I instinctively liked the post, then commented: “Hold him tight. He’s all yours now.” “Ashley, are you crazy? You liked her post? You even commented, wishing them a happy life together?” Sarah snatched my phone, her voice trembling with anger. “Don’t you get it? Chloe made that post just to piss you off! It was only visible to you! She’s declaring war!” I took my phone back from Sarah and turned off the screen. “I know.” Sarah froze. She stared at me with wide eyes, as if she didn’t recognize me, then slumped onto the couch in defeat. “Then why are you letting her walk all over you? And Ethan’s such an idiot, doesn’t he know what day it is today? It’s deposit day! This is the apartment you two have been looking at for a whole year!” “Sarah, do me a favor.” “Tell me! Are we going to the hospital to tear apart that toxic couple? I’ll go start the car right now!” “No.” I shook my head, pulling the purchase agreement from my bag. “Come with me to the bank. I need to make a large transfer.” Sarah’s eyes lit up: “You’re paying the deposit yourself? And not putting his name on it?” “Not the deposit,” I said, looking at the blank space on the contract where both our names were supposed to go. “It’s the full amount. I’m buying it alone.” Sarah’s expression shifted from shock to pity, then to a strange, indescribable bitterness. She didn’t ask any more questions, just squeezed my arm tightly. At ten that night, Ethan’s message finally popped up. “Ash, Chloe’s stable now, just minor scrapes. I’ll treat you to a big dinner tomorrow to make it up to you.” “I’ll definitely take time off next week to go with you for the apartment. I’ve already talked to the agent.” “Go to bed early, don’t overthink it.” There it was again. Those three words. *Don’t overthink it.* For seven years, every time he stood me up for Chloe, every time he put me through something for Chloe, it always ended with those flimsy three words. As if all my anger and hurt were because I was petty, and not because he had no boundaries. I replied: “Okay.” He immediately sent back a head-patting emoji. I tossed my phone onto the couch and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. His electric toothbrush was still on the counter, next to his men’s face wash, which he’d just opened yesterday. I grabbed a trash bag and swept in his toothbrush, face wash, razor, and the towel he kept at my place. Sarah leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching me. “Ash, are you serious this time?” I didn’t turn around. I pulled a few of his shirts from the balcony clothesline and folded them into a cardboard box. “A month ago, I submitted a transfer request to head office to move to the branch. Back then, I just wanted a change of scenery. But today, I’m truly done with him.” “Because of that post?” “Because this morning, before he left, he poured me a cup of warm water with honey.” Sarah didn’t understand. “What’s wrong with that?” “Last week, Chloe said her stomach had been bothering her, and she needed to drink honey water every morning. Ethan remembered that. But he forgot that honey gives me severe stomach cramps.” I pressed a hand to my subtly aching stomach, forcing a smile. In my sophomore year of college, I’d accidentally eaten honey and had such bad stomach cramps I was writhing in the dorm. He’d carried me on his back, running two blocks to the infirmary. Later, he remembered honey water was good for Chloe’s stomach, but forgot that honey would make me miserable. Sarah fell silent. The tape on the cardboard box made a harsh tearing sound. I sealed the box and brushed the dust from my hands. I didn’t cry. I just felt that seven years, that measure of time, had suddenly become incredibly ridiculous.

The next morning, the real estate agent called. “Ms. Lynn, your full payment has been received, and the contract process is complete. This apartment now officially belongs entirely to you.” “Great, thank you.” “And Mr. Green…?” “You don’t need to worry about him. The money came from me, the contract was signed by me. He has nothing to do with it.” After hanging up, Sarah handed me an iced Americano. “Does Ethan know you have that much money?” “No. He thinks I’ve spent all my salary on daily expenses these past few years.” “So that money…” “I started taking on freelance design work right after college, pulling countless all-nighters to save it up. I planned to use it as startup capital for his business after we got married.” Sarah slammed her coffee cup onto the table. “Ashley, how much have you actually spent on him over these seven years?” I opened my budgeting app on my phone and showed it to her. The BMW he drove? His parents paid the down payment, and he thought the monthly car loan was only three hundred bucks. It was actually six hundred. The other three hundred? I’d secretly transferred it to his account every month. He loved gaming. That three-thousand-dollar Alienware computer? He thought he’d won it in a mall raffle. Actually, I’d spent half a month’s salary on it and even roped the store manager into a whole charade. Last month, his mom was hospitalized, and they were short two thousand for the surgery. He was frantic. I gave him the money without a second thought. Later, his mom held Chloe’s hand and said, “Chloe is such a thoughtful girl, always coming to visit me at the hospital.” I stood outside the hospital room, carrying a pot of freshly made chicken soup, listening to their happy laughter inside. I turned around and dumped the soup in the trash. And on my birthday, Ethan gave me a cheap phone case he’d picked up from a discount store, saying we were practically an old married couple already, and practicality was what mattered most. Sarah’s eyes grew redder the more she looked. Taken individually, these might just be small disappointments. But seven years of layered grievances had long since suffocated me. At noon, Ethan sent a message. “Ash, what do you want for lunch? I’ll pick you up.” “I neglected you yesterday, so I’ll spend the whole day with you today.” I replied: “No thanks, I’m out with Sarah.” He immediately replied: “What about tonight? I booked our favorite Thai restaurant.” My *favorite* Thai restaurant? The last time I went was three years ago. But in those three years, he’d taken Chloe no less than five times. I’d even seen check-in photos of that restaurant on Chloe’s social media, with the man I bought the shirt for sitting across from her. “Busy tonight too. I have plans.” Two minutes later, his call came through. “Ash, are you still mad?” His voice had a hint of helpless amusement, like he was coaxing an unreasonable child. “No. I really have plans.” “What could be more important than having dinner with me?” he asked back, laughing, his voice full of certainty. He was so sure I couldn’t live without him, so sure I’d always be waiting for him. I looked at the text message that had just arrived from the property company on my phone screen and calmly said, “I’m finalizing the apartment title.”

Dead silence on the other end of the line. After a full five seconds, he let out a dry laugh. “What kind of joke are you playing?” “No joke. I bought the apartment. All cash. My name only.” “Ashley!” His voice instantly rose, filled with unrestrained fury. “Are you done with this drama?” I didn’t speak. “Just because I didn’t show up yesterday? Didn’t I explain it to you? Chloe was shaken up by a car accident, what’s wrong with me going to keep her company as a friend? Do you have to be so petty?” “Yeah, I know. So I bought it myself. No need to trouble you.” “You… you just wait, I’m coming to find you right now!” He hung up. Sarah looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Someone’s getting desperate?” I tossed my phone back into my bag, surprised that my heartbeat was perfectly steady. At three in the afternoon, Ethan stormed into the coffee shop where Sarah and I were. He was breathless, sweat on his forehead, his eyes full of disbelief as he looked at me. “Ashley, say what you just said again?” “I said, I bought the apartment, all cash, in my name.” He slammed his hand on the table, making everyone around us look over. “Where did you get so much money? Are you out of your mind? That’s our future home, how can you decide that on your own?” “My money, I can do whatever I want with it.” I took a sip of my coffee. “As for our future home, now it’s just my apartment.” Ethan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away. He awkwardly retracted his hand, his tone softening. “Ash, I know you’re upset about yesterday. But we’re supposed to live in this apartment together, how am I going to explain this to my parents?” He wasn’t feeling bad about my hurt; he was worried about explaining it to his parents. “No need to explain.” I looked at him. “Ethan, I’ve been thinking about something recently.” “What is it?” “Work-related.” He visibly relaxed, his tense shoulders slumping, even a hint of a smile appearing on his face. “You scared me to death. I thought you were going to call off the engagement.” His tone when he said that was so casual, it was almost cruel. As if the idea of “Ashley leaving Ethan” was preposterous. “Oh, right.” He pulled a delicate little velvet box from his pocket and pushed it across the table to me. “I bought this necklace for you when I passed the mall, as an apology. Chloe said it would really suit your style.” I looked at the box but didn’t touch it. “Chloe helped you pick it out?” “Yeah, she has good taste. She also said she felt bad about taking up your time yesterday and insisted I get you a gift.” I opened the box. Inside was a silver four-leaf clover necklace. It looked familiar. I opened Chloe’s Instagram page. Three days ago, she’d posted: “Love this necklace so much, but it’s too expensive. Guess I’ll come back for you when I get paid next month.” The picture was of that exact necklace. I pushed the box back to him. “I don’t like it. You should give it to her.” Ethan’s face changed. “Ashley, don’t be ungrateful. I’m trying to make things right, and you’re going to be sarcastic about it?” “I’m not being sarcastic. I just think, since she likes it, it’s more fitting for you to give it to her.” I stood up and picked up my bag. “I have to go. I’m busy.” “Ashley!” He called after me. “If you walk out that door today, don’t expect me to come after you again!” I didn’t look back. I pushed open the coffee shop door and stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

Wednesday afternoon, I was reviewing the final transfer checklist at the office. Chloe posted a private Instagram story, visible only to me. In the photo, she was wearing that four-leaf clover necklace, smiling sweetly. The caption: “Some people just remember every little thing you say. Thanks for the gift.” I took a screenshot with a blank face and saved it to a photo album titled “Letting Go.” That album already held dozens of screenshots. Late-night takeout orders he’d placed for Chloe; The jacket he’d lent Chloe; Their backs, secretly holding hands during a company team-building event, hidden from everyone else. Sarah said I was torturing myself. But I wasn’t. This was my reality check. Whenever I thought back on the past seven years, and felt even the slightest waver in my resolve, I’d open that album and look through it. Afterward, my heart would turn completely cold. Before I left work, Ethan sent a message. “I have a dinner meeting tonight, you don’t have to wait up for me.” I replied: “Okay.” Before, if he said he had a dinner meeting, I’d always stay up for him, prepare a hangover remedy, and help him out of his alcohol-soaked clothes. Now, I just wanted to go to bed early. At eleven that night, my phone vibrated. It was a call from Ethan. “Ash…” He was slurring his words, clearly drunk. “What’s wrong?” “I… I’m at the Siren Lounge. Can you come pick me up? My head really hurts…” The background was noisy, but I clearly heard a woman’s voice. “Ethan, slow down, I’ve got you.” It was Chloe. I calmly said, “Since Chloe’s there, let her take you home.” “No! I want *you* to pick me up! You’re my fiancée!” He yelled into the phone like a spoiled child. “I’m tired, I’m already asleep.” I hung up immediately and turned off my phone. The next morning when I turned it on, the screen showed over a dozen missed calls and messages from Ethan. “Ashley, you’ve changed. You never used to ignore me.” “I threw up the whole way home last night. Chloe took care of me all night.” “What exactly is this tantrum you’re throwing?” I looked at the messages and found them utterly ridiculous. *I’ve changed?* Yes, I finally stopped being an on-call, no-boundaries babysitter. I didn’t reply to him. Instead, I clicked on the email from HR. “Regarding the Appointment of Ashley Lynn as New York Branch Director” Effective date: The tenth of next month. I clicked confirm. Less than twenty days until I left this city, left this man. That weekend, Ethan suddenly said he wanted to take me to a newly opened resort nearby for a hot spring. “Things have been so tense between us lately. Let’s go relax, think of it as an early honeymoon.” He loaded luggage into the trunk, looking at me pleadingly. I watched his busy back and calmly said, “Okay.” The car drove out of the city and onto the highway. Ethan’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen, a flicker of panic in his eyes, and hung up. But the phone rang again quickly, as if it wouldn’t stop until he answered. I leaned back against the passenger seat, eyes closed, and said, “Answer it. Maybe it’s urgent.”

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Waking up from the car crash, I could only say “Yes” and “No,” and I had to tell the truth. My wife pulled a chair to my bedside and took out a small notebook filled with questions. “Mason, do you have a secret stash of money?” “…Yes.” “Is it over fifty thousand?” I closed my eyes. “Yes.” She turned to the next page, staring intently at me. “Mason, tell me, are you cheating on me?” My name is Mason Carlos, thirty-two years old, an ordinary employee at a mid-sized company. Three days ago, I was hit by a car while crossing the street. My head hit the edge of a flower bed, and I passed out on the spot. When I woke up, my wife, Eve, was leaning over the bed, her eyes red-rimmed, her nose a little red, clutching a tissue. I opened my mouth, wanting to say, “Honey, I’m fine.” But only two words came out of my throat: “No.” Eve paused. “No to what?” I tried again. “Yes.” Eve looked at me, tears still in her eyes, her expression shifting from worry to confusion. The doctor was called in quickly. They took three CT scans and two MRIs. Finally, the attending physician pushed up his glasses and explained to us with a very academic expression. “The patient’s brain sustained an impact, resulting in a rare focal lesion in the language center. Currently, he can only produce two syllables—’Yes’ and ‘No.’ The recovery time is uncertain; it could be three months, or it could be…” He paused. “Permanent.” Eve’s face turned white then. But I was more concerned about something else—I realized I couldn’t lie. I discovered this after the doctor left. Eve sat back down by the bed, peeling an orange for me, and casually asked, “Are you in a lot of pain?” I wasn’t actually in that much pain anymore. But I instinctively wanted to say “Yes” to gain sympathy. However, my mouth opened, and my throat felt like it was being choked, unable to make any sound. I tried again: “…No.” Eve’s hand stopped peeling the orange. “Not hurting?” “Yes.” 【Wait, my mouth is out of my control?】 She glanced at me with an unreadable expression, then put an orange segment into my mouth. “Then why did you make me cry for three days?” “Yes.” 【No! I wanted to say no!】 I squeezed my mouth shut, but the “Yes” had already popped out. Eve looked at me again, that gaze very subtle. She put down the orange, sat up straight, like a different person. “Mason, I have a question for you.” “Yes.” 【Why did I say yes again?】 “Do you have a secret stash of money?” The question felt like a needle pricking my back. I wanted to shake my head, close my mouth, pretend to be unconscious—but my mouth was no longer my own. “Yes.” Eve’s pupils visibly dilated. She slowly pulled out a small notebook from her bag, opened the first page, which was densely filled with questions. 【When the hell did she prepare this?!】 “Is your secret stash over ten thousand?” “Yes.” “Over fifty thousand?” “Yes.” “Over a hundred thousand?” My mouth started to twitch. “…Yes.” “Over… five hundred thousand?” The ward was so quiet you could hear the liquid dripping from the IV bag in the next bed. My lips moved, my throat felt like a traitor lived inside it. “…Yes.” The pen in Eve’s hand dropped to the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, I distinctly heard her take a deep breath, then slowly exhale, like she was doing yoga meditation. “Mason.” “Yes.” “Do you think it’s better to be alive than dead?” For the first time, I felt that telling the truth could also be a form of torture. “…Yes.” “Then you’d better pray that half a million is still there.” She closed the notebook, a smile on her face that sent shivers down my spine. “Otherwise, I’ll help you re-experience a car crash.” I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, with a strong premonition—my disaster had just begun. Sure enough. Eve turned to the second page. “Have you secretly looked through my phone?” “Yes.” “Do you think the steak I cook isn’t tasty?” “…Yes.” “Was the name you called out in your sleep your ex-girlfriend’s?” My breath hitched for half a second. “No.” Eve raised an eyebrow. “Whose was it then?” I opened my mouth—but this question couldn’t be answered with “Yes” or “No.” I could only produce a muffled airflow sound. She rephrased the question. “Was it a game character’s name?” “…Yes.” Eve rolled her eyes, clearly not believing it. But she couldn’t refute it—because it really was the name of my game character. I subtly exhaled in relief. 【This damn ability sucks, but at least it can’t answer open-ended questions. So, as long as she doesn’t ask precise yes-or-no questions, I still have a glimmer of hope—】 “Is your secret stash hidden in that false-bottom drawer in the study?” “Yes.” 【Damn it.】 “Is the bank card password your birthday?” “No.” “My birthday?” “No.” “Your mother’s birthday?” “No.” She paused. “Is it… six zeros?” “No.” “Six eights?” “No.” She took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over my face inch by inch, like a scanner reading data. “Is it… the date you first asked me out?” My throat rolled. “…Yes.” Eve froze for three seconds. Then she lowered her head, her hair covering half her face, her voice a little muffled. “You really… your way of hiding money is so old-fashioned.” She turned the page and continued asking. But I noticed the tips of her ears were red. 【Okay, at least I gained a few points back this round.】 Just as I was sighing in relief, she looked up, her gaze sharp again. “Mason, have you ever secretly deleted SnapChat messages with other women?” “No.” “Really no?” “Yes.” “Then have you deleted SnapChat messages with other men?” My mouth twitched. “Yes.” Eve’s expression froze. “…What?” I wanted to explain that I’d deleted messages with Wyatt that were just us sending each other memes, because they took up too much memory—but only “Yes” came out of my mouth. She stared into my eyes for a full ten seconds. Then slowly pulled out her phone. “I’m calling your mother.” 【There’s no way to refute this question; I’m completely done for.】

My mother didn’t come. A more terrifying person did—Eve’s mother, Mrs. Kelly. The next morning, the moment the ward door was pushed open, a wave of jasmine perfume rushed in, followed by a pair of sharp eyes. Mrs. Kelly was fifty-eight, her hair impeccably styled, walking with a confident stride. As soon as she entered, she first checked my IV drip, then felt my forehead, and then turned to Eve. “You look fine, you’re not dying.” “Mom, let me explain—” Eve pulled her to the window, whispering for five minutes. I lay in bed, watching my mother-in-law’s expression change from confusion to shock, from shock to… excitement. She quickly walked to my bedside, pulled up a chair, and sat down, hands clasped on her knees, like a seasoned detective in an interrogation room. “Mason.” “Yes.” “Can you really only tell the truth?” “Yes.” “Then tell me, do you secretly look down on me?” This question was fatal. I looked at Eve for help, but Eve lowered her head and played on her phone, pretending not to see. “No.” Mrs. Kelly nodded in satisfaction. “Then do you think my cooking is good?” My throat felt like it was being squeezed, my vocal cords struggling. My lips trembled twice, then a faint but clear syllable squeezed out through my teeth. “…No.” The temperature in the ward dropped ten degrees. Eve’s phone almost fell to the floor. Mrs. Kelly’s smile held for three seconds, then slowly vanished inch by inch. “Not tasty?” “Yes.” “I cooked for three hours.” “Yes.” “You mean, the food I cooked for three hours isn’t tasty?” “…Yes.” 【I want to sew my mouth shut.】 She then asked the next question. “Mason, have you ever done anything behind my daughter’s back that would betray her?” “No.” “Really no?” “Yes.” Eve interjected, “Mom, I already asked him, that line checks out.” Mrs. Kelly gave me a suspicious glance, seemingly unsatisfied with the result. Then she cleared her throat and pulled out her own small notebook. Yes. She had a small notebook too. Even thicker. “Mason, I’m going to ask you a few questions about Eve.” Eve’s smile froze. “Mom?” “I need to keep an eye on my daughter’s affairs.” Mrs. Kelly turned to the first page. “Mason, did Eve tell you her monthly salary is over ten thousand?” “Yes.” “Was she bragging?” Eve stood up. “Mom!” My throat uncontrollably produced a sound: “Yes.” The ward erupted. Eve’s face turned beet red. “Mason! Shut up!” “No—Yes—” 【I want to shut up too!】 Mrs. Kelly pushed up her reading glasses and continued turning pages. “Did Eve secretly give the living expenses you gave her to her good-for-nothing brother?” “Yes.” Eve completely froze. Mrs. Kelly’s face also turned dark. “I knew it!” Mrs. Kelly slammed her hand on her thigh. “That spendthrift! Mason, you just wait, I’ll go home and sort him out!” Eve’s voice changed. “Mom, can you please stop asking?” “Why shouldn’t I ask? It’s rare to have someone who tells the truth.” “Well, you can’t stand the questions either.” Eve suddenly fought back, turning to me. “Mason, does my mom have a secret boyfriend?” Mrs. Kelly’s pen dropped to the floor. The air in the ward completely froze. I looked at my mother-in-law’s already twitching face, then at my wife’s face, full of curiosity. The gazes of the two women met on me, like two knives sawing at my face. The traitor in my throat was ready. “…Yes.” Mrs. Kelly’s expression deflated like a balloon left out for three days. Eve clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my god! Mom!” “You—you—” Mrs. Kelly pointed at me, her finger trembling, then sharply turned to Eve. “Why would you ask that?!” “You were just asking me, weren’t you!” Eve stood her ground. “Mason, is it Jack, the man from the community dance class?” “No.” “John, the yoga instructor?” “No.” “Jimmy, who plays chess at the community center?” “…Yes.” Mrs. Kelly grabbed her bag, ready to leave. “I’m not staying! This hospital is toxic!” Eve grabbed her arm. “Mom, don’t go, Jimmy is a really nice guy—” “You shut up!” The two women wrestled in the ward for ten minutes, finally reaching an agreement—they would keep each other’s secrets, and neither would use me as a lie detector again. Of course, the shelf life of this agreement was about as long as a hot cup of coffee. Because as they left, I clearly heard Eve whisper in the hallway, “Mom, does Jimmy have a pension?” I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, seriously contemplating a philosophical question for the first time. When a man can only tell the truth, is he most useful, or most dangerous? Before I could figure it out, my phone rang. A message from Wyatt: “Dude, I’m coming to see you this afternoon, and could you do me a favor?” I typed my reply: “What favor?” “Help me tell my wife I’m working late.” I stared at the message, falling into a long silence. 【Dude, did you forget that I can only tell the truth now?】

Wyatt and I grew up together. In his words, we had a brotherhood forged through fire. In my words—he’d screw over his best friend without batting an eye. At two in the afternoon, he pushed open the ward door, a bag of fruit in hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Bro! Heard you got hit? Does it hurt?” “No.” Wyatt paused. “No to what? Not hit?” “No.” “Then what is it?” I opened my mouth, found I couldn’t explain, and just gestured—pointing at my throat, then shaking my head. He pondered for five seconds. “You mean… you can’t say anything else?” “Yes.” “Only ‘Yes’ and ‘No’?” “Yes.” Wyatt put down the fruit, pulled up a chair to my bedside, his expression shifting from shock to contemplation, from contemplation to… excitement. “Then you can only tell the truth?” “Yes.” “Oh my god!” He slapped his thigh and stood up, pacing the ward twice. “Bro, you’ve unlocked a cheat code! Do you know what you can do with this?” I knew. I very much knew. Then his phone rang. Caller ID: The Boss (his wife). Wyatt’s face instantly changed. He lowered his voice, looking at me. “Bro, if my wife asks where I am, just say—” He stopped. Then slowly remembered my new ‘setting.’ “…Never mind, I’ll take it outside.” He slipped into the hallway, closing the door. But the soundproofing wasn’t great. I heard muffled bits and pieces: “Working late… Yes, yes, the boss made me… No, no, not out drinking…” Three minutes later, he pushed the door open, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Handled it.” “No.” Wyatt looked at me. “No to what?” Before he could finish, his phone rang again. This time it wasn’t a call, but a voice message. His wife Mary’s voice boomed from the phone: “Wyatt, you better explain yourself! Your colleague posted on Ins, your company isn’t working overtime this afternoon! Where are you really?!” Wyatt’s face turned green. He stiffly looked back at me, his gaze as if asking, “How did you know?” How could I know? I just said “No.” But my uncooperative mouth had just delivered the most accurate, damning judgment at the most precise moment. Wyatt took a deep breath, pressed the voice reply button. “Honey, I’m at the hospital seeing Mason—” The phone was snatched away. Mary called him on FaceTime. Wyatt dared not refuse. The moment the video connected, Mary’s face filled the entire screen. “Is Mason there? Let me see him.” Wyatt shoved the phone in front of me, desperately winking. Mary stared at me. “Mason, did Wyatt just get there?” I glanced at Wyatt’s face, which screamed, “Bro, save me.” Then my mouth opened. “No.” Wyatt’s soul visibly floated out of his body. Mary’s voice dropped three degrees. “Did he go somewhere else first?” “Yes.” “Did he go play cards?” “No.” Wyatt secretly breathed a sigh of relief. “Did he go to an internet cafe?” “Yes.” Wyatt slumped back in his chair. Mary was silent for three seconds, then let out a laugh. That kind of laugh dropped the ward temperature to below zero. “Wyatt, you just wait.” The video call ended. Wyatt covered his face with his hands, a muffled sentence squeezing through his fingers. “Mason, our twenty years of friendship…” “Yes.” “You just sold me out like that?” “Yes.” “Were you doing it on purpose?” “No.” His hands slid from his face. He looked at me, his gaze like a puppy abandoned by its owner. “You can’t control it either?” “Yes.” He sighed, slumping back into the chair. “Alright, fine. Anyway, my credit score with my wife is already in the negatives.” He stood up to pack his things, and as he reached the door, he looked back at me. “Bro, one last question.” “Yes.” “Do you think it’s embarrassing that I’m so afraid of my wife?” I wanted to say “No” to comfort him. But my mouth wouldn’t allow it. “…Yes.” Wyatt nodded, his expression calm. “Yeah, I thought so too.” Then he gently closed the door. The moment the door closed, I heard a low howl from the hallway, like a wounded beast. I pulled out my phone and sent him a message: “Bro, buy some flowers on your way back, don’t go home empty-handed.” He replied with one word: “Screw you.” Ten seconds later, another message came: “What kind of flowers?” I smiled, then realized a problem. I was being discharged tomorrow. Out of the hospital, I would return to normal social relationships—my company, colleagues, boss. And my mouth would still only tell the truth. I opened the WhatsApp work group and saw Owen’s latest message: “Mason’s in the hospital after an accident; his clients will temporarily be handled by me.” Below it, the boss’s reply: “Thanks for your hard work.” And below that, Owen’s reply: “My pleasure, it’s all for the company.” I stared at those lines of text, my fingers unconsciously clutching the bedsheet. 【Owen, you’ve been eyeing those three clients of mine for a long time.】 I put down my phone and closed my eyes. 【Tomorrow, back at the office, you’re going to have a rough time.】

On the day of my discharge, Eve stayed glued to me, repeatedly whispering the same thing in my ear. “At the company, talk less, say nothing if you can, just shake your head if people ask you anything.” “Yes.” “Just shake your head, don’t open your mouth.” “Yes.” “You opened your mouth again.” “…Yes.” She took a deep breath, pulled a face mask from her bag, put it on me, then added another layer on top. “Double mask, no matter how fast your mouth is, nothing will get out.” When I walked into the company wearing a double mask, the receptionist looked at me like I was a hazmat soldier. Owen was the first to come over to “care” about me. He walked to my cubicle, patted my shoulder, a perfectly calibrated smile on his face. “Mason, how’s your body? Feeling any better?” I nodded, not opening my mouth. “Heard you had a head injury? Want to take a few more days off? I’ll keep an eye on your clients for now, no rush.” His tone was sincere, his expression genuine. But I noticed a nearly imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth when he said “your clients.” I still nodded, pointing to my throat, indicating that I couldn’t speak. Owen showed an understanding expression. “I get it, I get it, take good care of yourself.” He turned and left. I opened my computer and found that my client system access had been downgraded. For my three key clients, the past week’s contact logs were all under Owen’s name. He was already poaching my clients. I wasn’t angry. Because I knew one thing—Owen wasn’t just poaching clients. During last year’s annual audit, I’d accidentally seen an expense report where the amount didn’t match the actual cost. The signature on the expense report was Owen’s. At the time, I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t my business. But now, it seemed I could make it my business. At eleven in the morning, the department held a meeting. Mr. Williamson, the boss, sat at the other end of the long table, speaking for half an hour about quarterly goals, using a PowerPoint presentation. I wore my mask the entire time, sitting quietly in the corner. Everything went smoothly—until Mr. Williamson suddenly called my name. “Mason, are you familiar with the situation of your clients? Owen said the contract with Anderson Group was almost finalized last week, is that right?” Everyone’s eyes turned to me. Owen sat opposite me, his smile unchanged, but the tip of his pen pressed a small dent into the table. I instinctively wanted to say “Yes”—because saying “Yes” was the easiest. But my mouth disagreed. Because that contract was far from finalized. Before I was hospitalized last week, Mr. Anderson of Anderson Group explicitly told me that Owen’s proposal was full of flaws, and they were hesitant about whether to switch suppliers. I opened my mouth. “No.” The conference room fell silent. Owen’s smile froze for a moment, but he reacted quickly. “Mason, you just got discharged, you might not be up to date on the latest developments—” Mr. Williamson raised a hand, interrupting him. “Mason, do you mean the contract isn’t finalized?” “Yes.” Owen’s brow furrowed. Mr. Williamson looked at Owen, then at me. “Owen, didn’t your report last week say we’d secured the letter of intent?” Owen forced a smile. “Mr. Williamson, the situation is a bit complex; Mason might not be aware of the latest progress—” “Did you falsify the report?” This question wasn’t from Mr. Williamson. It was from my colleague, Lena. She sat next to me and had always been at odds with Owen. Everyone’s gaze once again focused on my face. My mouth moved again. “Yes.” The conference room erupted. Owen slammed the table and stood up. “Mason! Are you out of your mind?!” Mr. Williamson’s face darkened. “Owen, sit down.” “Mr. Williamson, he just suffered a head injury; his words aren’t reliable—” Mr. Williamson raised his hand. “I will check the original email records. Sit down.” Owen slowly sat back down, the muscles in his face taut like an iron plate. He glanced at me. That look held a murderous intent. After the meeting, he stopped me in the hallway. “Mason, what the hell do you mean?” I pointed to my throat. “Don’t play mute with me, you were speaking perfectly fine in there.” He lowered his voice, stepping closer. “You think you can touch me? My uncle is Cameron—the company’s VP. You’re just a junior employee, you think you can mess with me?” His spit splattered on my mask. I stared into his eyes, silent for two seconds. Then I reached out, pulled out my phone, and showed him a message. It was a photo I’d taken with my phone during my hospital stay—that expense report from last year with the abnormal amount. I’d only taken it casually at the time, never expecting it to be useful today. Owen stared at the phone screen, his face draining of color with each passing second. I curved my lips into a smile at him—he couldn’t see it anyway, the mask was covering it. Then I typed a message and sent it to him: “Give me back my clients. As for the rest, depends on your performance.” He pushed my phone away and walked off. His steps were three times faster than when he came. I leaned against the hallway wall, pulling down my mask to catch my breath. 【Mason, you really are something. Can’t speak, but you play your cards pretty well.】 Back at my cubicle, Lena leaned over and whispered, “Was everything you said just now true?” “Yes.” “Owen really falsified the report?” “Yes.” “Did he do anything else?” I saw the gossipy glint in her eyes and my mouth twitched. “Yes.” Lena’s eyes lit up. She pulled her chair next to mine. “You tell me, I’ll ask.” I pulled out my phone and typed: “Not here. Treat me to dinner after work, and I’ll tell you everything.” “Deal.” 【Owen, your good times are over.】

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Two months pregnant, Daniel Brown demanded I give blood to his childhood sweetheart, Chloe. Already anemic, I refused, my eyes burning. But his friends just called me selfish. “Chloe is on the operating table. You’re the only match. What’s the big deal about donating a little blood?” With that, they practically dragged me inside. A flicker of hesitation crossed Daniel’s eyes, but he hardened his gaze. “It’s just a blood donation. Our baby will be fine.” I stopped struggling, a single tear sliding down my cheek. After the transfusion, a sudden, excruciating pain ripped through my abdomen. The baby we’d hoped for for three years was gone. I stayed in the hospital alone for three days after the miscarriage. Meanwhile, Daniel remained glued to Chloe’s side, never leaving her. My womb felt empty, but it was my heart that truly ached. As I was discharged, I coincidentally ran into Chloe and Daniel, surrounded by their usual group of friends. I carried my backpack, utterly alone, while Daniel helped Chloe walk, supporting her every step. When his gaze landed on me, Daniel paused. “Why are you still at the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” I hid the miscarriage, my face pale, and walked towards the exit. “Let’s go together.” Daniel grabbed my arm, his tone leaving no room for argument. By the car, Chloe quickly slipped into the passenger seat. She looked innocent. “Zara, I just had stomach ulcer surgery. I get car sick easily.” “Could you let me have this spot?” I didn’t feel like arguing, so I just opened the back door. But all his friends piled into the back, three grown men squeezing in next to me. They stared at me, their voices unfriendly. “Zara, Chloe is still very weak. We’re all coming to your place to look after her.” I looked at Daniel in the driver’s seat. His face was tight, but he didn’t say a word to object. I smiled soundlessly. The cicadas on the trees chirped clearly. How could I still have expectations for a man like this? Daniel’s friends had never liked me. In their eyes, Chloe and Daniel were soulmates. I was just the wicked outsider trying to break them up. When they visited our home, everyone treated me like a servant, and Daniel never once stood up for me. Even when I was carrying his child, I still had to give blood to Chloe. In the end, I didn’t even get a thank you. All they’d say was: “It’s your honor.” This wasn’t the first time I’d been wronged, but it was the first time I chose to accept it calmly. “Okay, I’ll go home by myself.” I closed the car door and turned, walking away first. It was rush hour, and I couldn’t even hail a cab. In the scorching heat of mid-summer, having just suffered a miscarriage, I walked for an hour under the blazing sun to get home. The moment I pushed open the door, a barrage of accusations greeted me. “Zara, why are you so slow? We’ve been home for ages.” “We haven’t eaten all night. Let’s try Zara’s cooking again.” I looked at Daniel and Chloe. It was a hot summer day, but the AC wasn’t on inside the house. They were worried that frail Chloe might catch a chill. So Daniel sat beside her, fanning her. Even though his own forehead was beaded with sweat, he ignored it, completely absorbed in fawning over Chloe. Seeing me silent, Carter called out to Daniel. “Daniel, everyone’s hungry! Tell Zara to make us something to eat.”

Only then did Daniel look up, ignoring my pale face, and gave orders as if it were his right. “Zara, be a good girl and prepare us a simple meal.” “And make a special stew for Chloe. It’ll help her recover.” The dull ache in my heart twisted into a sharp, agonizing stab, making it hard to breathe. I walked into the kitchen with my head down, cutting off their joyful chatter. It felt as if I were the outsider, completely out of place among them. In the past, I would have argued hysterically with them, as if that could salvage my dignity. But little did I know, doing so only fueled their arrogance. Compared to my tantrums, Chloe always seemed so sweet and reasonable. But now, I didn’t want to fight anymore. This group of people, this kind of partner, simply wasn’t worth it. When I brought out the prepared dishes, I was drenched in sweat. Chloe willingly took the food from my hands, but the moment I let go, she suddenly pulled away. The food spilled everywhere, and the ceramic plate shattered into pieces. “Watch out!” Daniel, quick as a flash, shielded Chloe. My exposed calf, however, was scalded a bright red. “Zara, I know you don’t like me, but you shouldn’t intentionally drop plates!” Not a single drop of soup had splashed on her, yet Chloe burst into tears, throwing herself into Daniel’s arms as if she’d suffered a great injustice. “Yeah, Zara, what are you doing?” “Zara, you’ve been targeting Chloe for ages. We’re all just good friends, why are you like this?” “She was the one who let go first.” I coldly watched the chorus of voices scolding me, and spoke softly. They were about to say more, but Daniel cut them off sharply. “Zara, apologize!” “You’ve gone too far this time. Chloe just got out of the hospital, and you scared her.” In the scorching summer heat, I shivered all over. I felt a chill to my bones. The burning pain in my calf was less than a fraction of the agony in my heart. I looked at the man who had once been my greatest source of security and strength, now torturing me slowly like an executioner. Something inside me snapped. “Fine, I apologize.” I smiled bitterly, tears uncontrollably welling in my eyes. Daniel froze for a moment, trying to reach for me, but I dodged him. “The food’s ready, I’ve apologized. Can I go back to my room and bandage my injury now?” I showed him my skin, already blistering from the scald, hoping he would let me go. With that, I ignored the mess on the floor and turned back to my room. Outside the door, it was noisy. I heard Chloe’s whiny voice. “I’m sorry, Zara is only angry because of me.” “I’m just a jinx. I won’t cause you any more trouble.” I heard the door open, Chloe ran out, and the whole group rushed after her, worried. The door slammed shut loudly. Just as I thought Daniel had gone out too, he pushed the door open and entered. Daniel hugged me from behind, his hand gently stroking my lower abdomen. “Zara, why can’t you just cut her some slack? Chloe is still like a child, she needs you to be more patient with her.” “Besides, we have a baby on the way now. Once things at work settle down, we’ll finally have our wedding. Don’t be mad, okay?” His voice was unexpectedly gentle, with a hint of pleading. “So you still remember I was pregnant?” I pushed his hand away, unable to stop the sarcastic bite in my voice.

Daniel’s smile froze. His phone rang in his pocket. He answered, and Carter’s voice was unusually clear in the quiet room. “Daniel, hurry over! Chloe fainted on the way, and someone needs to pay the hospital fees.” Daniel didn’t hesitate, immediately pulling out the bank card we’d saved money on together from the nightstand. “Are you crazy, Daniel?” I stopped him, furious. “For Chloe, you’re going to take our baby’s savings, aren’t you?” Daniel tried to push past my obstruction. “That’s enough, Zara.” “It’s a matter of life and death, and you’re only thinking about your petty concerns. How selfish can you be!” I frantically hit his shoulders, and his momentum pulled me out of the room. “I’m selfish? She’s your childhood sweetheart, not mine! How dare you use my money for her?” Daniel, provoked by something I said, pushed me roughly to the ground like an enraged animal. No one had cleaned up the scattered debris. I collapsed onto it, exhausted. A sharp pain shot through my body. I lifted my arm; my back and arms were covered in cuts. Daniel had already left, without even a backward glance. Seeing my hands covered in blood, I used my last ounce of strength to dial 911 before losing consciousness. In a blur of fading awareness, I dreamt of that young boy, who went with me to pray at church. His hands clasped, his expression devout: “I’ll love and protect Zara forever.” “If I ever break this promise, may I die a horrible death.” When I woke up again, it was late at night. The dark hospital room was empty except for me. Nurse Olivia came in to offer me a glass of water, carefully helping me sit up. She looked at me, wrapped in bandages, and said with a sympathetic tone: “Ms. Zara, you just had a miscarriage, and now you’re in this state again? Please make sure to get plenty of rest.” I closed my eyes, bitterness and pain washing over me. I thanked her softly, my heart filled with endless sorrow. I opened my phone and saw that Carter had posted an update on Ins. [Looks like Daniel still cares about Chloe the most.] The accompanying picture showed Daniel sitting on a hospital bed, with Chloe’s head resting on his lap, smiling contentedly and happily. Cheating scum. No wonder they say they’re truly meant for each other. My heart ached until it was numb. I forced down the sorrow. They weren’t worth my tears or my sadness. I logged into my mobile banking and checked the balance. Thankfully, my $15,000 was still there. I calmly transferred the money to my personal account. My marriage with Daniel, like our child, had reached its end. I called Karen Hayes, the General Manager: “Karen, is there still a chance for me to transfer to headquarters?” A week ago, I had been offered a transfer to headquarters for my outstanding work, but I’d refused due to my pregnancy, not wanting to be separated from Daniel. But now, I didn’t need to consider any of that. “Zara, aren’t you pregnant?” “Just rest and take care of your pregnancy for now. There will be other opportunities, and I’ll keep you in mind for future openings.” Listening to Karen’s gentle voice, I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Karen, I lost the baby. I want to return to work as soon as possible.” Karen was silent for a few seconds on the other end of the line. “I’ll add your name back to the list. A miscarriage is a serious matter, though. Take another week to rest before reporting to headquarters.” I affirmed, my voice choked. “Thank you, Karen.”

During that week in the hospital, Daniel never once contacted me. Perhaps he hadn’t even realized I was still pregnant. I wasn’t surprised. It had always been like this; I used to make excuses for him over and over, but not anymore. After a week of rest in the hospital, my body had mostly recovered, and I checked out. During that time, I scrolled through many of Chloe’s Ins posts, each one related to Daniel. In the photos, Chloe looked like a princess adored by all, surrounded by their group. Next to her were nutritious meals and countless small gifts, while I had nothing by my side during my hospitalization. The pearl necklace Daniel had once promised to buy me was now glaringly hanging around Chloe’s neck. Strangely, seeing all this again, I could scroll past it without a flicker of emotion. Back home, it was just as I had left it that day. It seemed Daniel had been at the hospital taking care of Chloe the whole time. He hadn’t returned home, nor did he know I had been hospitalized. I quickly packed my bags, gathered all my belongings, threw away the photo on the nightstand, burned the love letters he’d once written to me, and placed my wedding ring on the table. After all that, I looked at the empty house, just as it had been when we first moved in. I lowered my gaze to the divorce papers in front of me, picked up a pen, and signed my name. Before I could even call Daniel back to sign the divorce papers, he returned himself. When he entered, I was on the phone, handing over my work responsibilities to a colleague. My colleague asked about my flight date, and I replied: “It’s tomorrow afternoon.” Seeing Daniel come in, I hung up. He frowned and asked: “What’s happening tomorrow afternoon? A prenatal check-up?” I put my phone away and calmly replied: “Work-related. No check-up.” Only then did I notice he was carrying a takeout bag. Meeting my eyes, he offered the bag. “I’m sorry, Zara. Chloe has been in the hospital these past few days, and I couldn’t leave her.” “I bought you some food. To help you recover.” I didn’t take the bag, and the faint smell of fish made me feel a wave of nausea. We’d been married for so many years, yet he didn’t even know I couldn’t eat fish. How ironic. But now, I didn’t even have the energy to argue. “Oh, right, these are Chloe’s clothes. They’re silk, so you can’t machine wash them. You can hand-wash them tonight.” Hearing his words, and looking at the man in front of me, I suddenly began to wonder. Had he changed, or had I simply married this kind of person all along? I bit my lip and said in a low voice: “Just leave them there.” “I need to go back to grab some change of clothes.” He said, then quickly went into the bedroom to pack. I picked up the divorce papers and walked over to him. “Daniel, our mortgage is paid off. We just need to sign this.” He didn’t suspect a thing, took the pen, and quickly signed his name. I watched him grab his clothes and leave the house. I booked a flight for two hours later. Taking off my ring, I placed the divorce papers and the miscarriage surgery report on the table. These were the last things I would leave for Daniel. As for him and me, this was the end. Daniel’s eyes were bloodshot, probably from several nights of staying at the hospital. Chloe frowned at his disheveled look and feigned concern. “Daniel, you should go back and rest for a few days. Let Carter take over.” Daniel looked at the empty chat window with Zara and swallowed the words of refusal.

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Five years after I married the unhinged billionaire heir, news suddenly broke of my reserved guardian, Kate Brown’s death. The transatlantic call from his assistant came at five in the morning, London time: “Ms. Fiona, Mr. Kate Brown has passed away. The Brown family is in chaos, and only you can return to take charge…” It had been so long since I’d heard that name. I froze for a moment. As the adopted daughter of a powerful family, I’d only done two rebellious things in my adolescence. One was coaxing Kate into a reckless night with me when he was drunk. The second was boarding a plane for an arranged marriage abroad, escaping before he sobered up. From then on, the eighteen years Kate and I had spent relying on each other since the orphanage were cut all ties. I never imagined I would return home five years later, only to attend the funeral of the man I once so obsessively loved. At the funeral, a little boy in a black suit broke free from the people around him and threw himself into my arms. When I picked him up, he wiped his tear-streaked face, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mommy, you’re finally home!” “They’re all mean. They only want Daddy’s inheritance and keep bullying me!” Looking at the boy’s face, which was an eight-point resemblance to Kate’s, I remembered my first meeting with his father.

For as long as I could remember, I had no parents. I raised myself through petty thievery and pickpocketing around tourist attractions. Until I was seven, when I snatched a Rolex watch from a wealthy heir’s wrist, Only to be caught red-handed by the owner himself. The man, dressed in an exorbitantly expensive custom suit, didn’t hit or scold me, nor did he call the police. Instead, he crouched down, magically placed a piece of candy in my palm, and smiled warmly. “Fiona, I’m sorry, I’m late.” “My name is Kate. I was an old acquaintance of your parents.” “From now on, I will be your guardian, your uncle, and take care of you for the rest of your life.” He kept his word. He attended my parent-teacher conferences, protected me from drunk troublemakers, Taught me how to use forks and knives, taught me to play the piano, Transforming that prickly little beggar into a proper lady, little by little. But I was too greedy, not content with just being his niece, wishing to forever monopolize all of Kate’s kindness. I planned to confess that one reckless night we shared, on his birthday. I even decided that if he didn’t agree, I’d throw a tantrum, just like when I was little and wanted candy, Crying and making a scene until he finally said yes. But before I could even open my mouth, I heard him publicly announce his strategic engagement to Audrey Benjamin at a family dinner. Everyone in the family nervously stared at me, afraid I’d overturn the dining table on the spot. But this time, I merely presented a velvet box. The box opened to reveal a pair of natural pink diamonds, perfectly cut and dazzling under the lights. My adoptive mother, Sarah, paused, about to say something: “Fiona, these diamonds are worth two hundred million. Weren’t you planning to make them into a wedding ring…?” I smiled gracefully, my tone sincere. “They were always meant for Kate. They’ll make a perfect engagement gift.” At my words, Kate suddenly felt an inexplicable awkwardness. His tone was half warning, half coaxing. “Fiona, when you were younger, I indulged you when you made a fuss.” “But from now on, if you cause any more trouble, I won’t go easy on you.” I secretly clenched my fists, raising a smile. “You’re right. I’ll make sure not to disappoint your expectations.” Kate frowned, feeling like something was off, but then his phone rang. It was Audrey Benjamin, urging him to go watch the fireworks with her. He grabbed his coat, ready to leave, but hesitated, turning back to look at me. “Fiona, do you want to come along…?” I paused, then shook my head, my voice light as I urged him on: “You should go, Kate. Have fun.” Kate stared at me for two seconds, then finally said nothing.

The door closed, and the smile on my face finally dropped. Sarah looked at me, a flicker of pity in her eyes. “Fiona, if you’re hurting, just cry it out.” But instead, I suddenly knelt before her. Sarah gasped, quickly helping me up: “What are you doing, child?” My expression was solemn. “The Brown family raised me for twenty years. I remember your kindness and dare not ask for more.” “I heard the family has always wanted to partner with the Williamson family in London but couldn’t find a way in. I’m willing to marry their youngest son.” Sarah’s face went pale. She gripped my wrist tightly. “Fiona, you want to marry Jason?!” “Do you know what kind of person he is?” “Rumor has it he’s a dark, cruel maniac. Aren’t you just throwing yourself into a fire pit?” I didn’t pull my hand away, gently soothing Sarah. “Mom, those are just rumors. Besides, don’t people also think I’m crazy?” “Crazy enough to disregard all morals, selfish and domineering, always trying to chase away every woman near Kate.” “The Williamson family has always been low-key. A marriage alliance is the only way to get close to them.” “You and Dad have spoiled me so much; I want to contribute to the family too.” I analyzed the pros and cons of the marriage alliance, my gaze growing steadier with each word. Sarah’s eyes reddened. She looked at me for a long time, then reached out and stroked my hair. “Alright, since your mind is made up. The Williamson family will send someone to pick you up. You’ll be married in London in half a month.” Hearing the timeline, I sighed inwardly at the coincidence. My wedding, of all things, would be on the same day as Kate’s engagement party. At this, Sarah suddenly remembered something and began to fuss: “But I haven’t had time to prepare your dowry. I need to have Robert transfer some company shares to you first…” I quickly interrupted her, “Mom, I don’t need anything.” “Also, please help me keep the marriage alliance a secret from Kate for now.” “I don’t want him to feel like I’m forcing his hand or trying to stop his engagement with Audrey.” Sarah couldn’t argue with me. She sighed and pulled me into her embrace.

By the time I returned to my bedroom, it was almost dawn. After booking an expedited visa application, I collapsed onto the bed, feeling groggy. But I hadn’t slept long before I vaguely sensed someone sitting by my bed. It was Kate. He was staring down at the floor, his expression heavy with something I couldn’t quite make out. I’d never seen him like this before. In all my memories, Kate always maintained his composed demeanor. Unflappable, with a steady voice. Even when a catastrophe struck the family, he stood there like an unbending pillar. But now, there was a deeply hidden trace of panic on his face. Just as I was about to speak, he spoke first. “Fiona, I’m asking you.” His voice was very low, but his words were sharply articulated. “Audrey had dirt leaked about her online. Was this your doing?” I said nothing. He stood up, looking down at me, his eyes full of a certainty that already held a conclusion. “You’ve always disliked her. You’ve given her a hard time ever since she entered the Brown family.” “Now that our wedding is set, you can’t sit still.” “Playing dirty tricks behind people’s backs is the most despicable thing.” He paused, lowering his voice a notch, as if giving me one last chance. “Tell me honestly, how involved were you in this?” I leaned against the headboard, looking at him. Wind outside ruffled the curtains, then let them fall. I waited for him to finish before I spoke. “No.” “Fiona.” “I said no, it was not me.” My voice was very calm, so calm that he frowned. Kate probably didn’t expect this reaction from me. Usually, I would either cry or make a fuss, but I would never speak to him in such a calm tone. He looked at me again, then pushed his phone screen in front of me. “The comments are over ten thousand. The time the posts went out perfectly matches when you returned to your room after dinner.” “You were alone in your room; no one saw you, no one knew what you were doing.” I glanced down at the screen, then pushed his hand away. “A matched time doesn’t mean it was me.” “Then who was it?” His voice turned cold. “Who would be targeting Audrey and post at exactly that time?” I didn’t answer. Because no matter how I answered that question, he already had his own answer. Silence stretched for a few seconds. I sat up from the bed and folded the blankets neatly. “Kate.” “Call me Kate.” He immediately interrupted, his voice harsh. I paused, then spoke again. “Kate, are you done?” His eyes subtly changed, his frown deepening. “Fiona, what is with your attitude?” “I don’t have an attitude.” I stood up, pushing his hand away. “I just find it a bit odd,” “You come into my bedroom in the middle of the night just to ask me this?” Kate was silent for a moment. That silence stung more than any words. I looked in the mirror and saw him standing behind me, His expression shifting through several emotions like a revolving lantern, finally settling into a complex look I couldn’t decipher. He quickly averted his gaze. “Audrey is very upset. You should go on a trip to another city for now, and come back after the wedding.” But before he finished, the door was abruptly pushed open.

Audrey rushed in, trembling, her voice shaking. “Fiona, you just don’t want me to be with Kate, do you?” “Fine, I won’t get engaged! Will you just leave me alone?” Kate quickly pulled her into his arms, murmuring comforting words. Then, he looked at me, his eyes full of pleading. “Fiona, go post a clarification, admit that you slandered Audrey.” “Once the fuss dies down, no one will remember it.” I thought of my own terrible experience with cyberbullying in the past, and my face instantly turned pale: “I won’t admit to something I didn’t do.” Then, before Kate could react, I dragged out the large suitcase I had packed last night. I reopened it. On top was the first photo of Kate and me after I joined the Brown family. My voice was soft, but every word was clear: “If I prove that I no longer like you, would that prove it wasn’t me?” As soon as the words left my lips, I picked up that photo and tore it into pieces. Kate’s face changed. I didn’t look at him. I picked up the next item—a custom-made dress, his eighteenth birthday gift to me. The scissors fell, and the sound of silk tearing was particularly grating. One item after another. Photos, gifts, souvenirs. Each one was etched with my former obsessive, fervent love. I had once treasured them, but now I destroyed them all without batting an eye. A surge of inexplicable irritation welled up in Kate’s heart. He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “Fiona, that’s enough.” I looked up at him, my eyes calm and devoid of emotion. In the stalemate, Audrey’s eyes darkened. She forced a smile: “Fiona, why are you doing this? It makes it seem like I’m being pushy.” She tugged at Kate’s sleeve again, her voice as soft as water: “It’s alright, Kate, don’t pressure her. “Even if it really was her, what is there for me not to forgive?” I couldn’t stand her fake sympathy and manipulative tone. My voice stiff, I asked them to leave. “Kate, is there anything else? If not, I’d like to rest a bit more.” Kate looked at me, wanting to say something, but Audrey pulled his sleeve. “Kate, let’s go. Let Fiona get some rest.” He finally nodded, turning to walk out. Just as I was about to close the door, a man holding a fruit knife suddenly charged straight at us. “Audrey, you caused my sister to drop out of school and commit suicide! Today, I’ll make you pay!” Kate reacted instantly, wrapping an arm around Audrey’s waist, shielding her as they dodged aside. But I, standing behind him, couldn’t react quickly enough. His protective turn even pulled me, sending me straight into the path of the knife. “Thwack!” The blade plunged into my chest then was pulled out. Large gushes of blood sprayed forth. My legs gave out. I slid down, leaning against the doorframe. Through my blood-blurred vision, I saw Kate’s lips move, as if calling my name.

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The night before my heart transplant, my husband, Noah, brought me a glass of milk at midnight. When I woke up the next day, I found that the heart meant for me had been stolen by my sister, Chloe. The next day, I broke down at the operating room door, demanding to know why. Noah sighed helplessly. “Chloe’s condition is worse. You still have three years to live. Just let her have this heart.” My mother frowned, saying I was being unreasonable. “Chloe has always compromised for you. As the older sister, you should give in this once.” Even my son wouldn’t speak up for me. “Chloe is afraid of pain, you’re not. The heart should go to Chloe.” Everyone stood against me. A sharp pain surged in my chest. I had a heart attack and died right there at the operating room door. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the heart transplant. “Your physical condition is fine. The donor heart has been confirmed, and the transplant can proceed tomorrow.” “Remember to fast and avoid liquids for 10 hours to ensure a smooth operation.” Familiar words echoed in my ears again. I opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face, soaking the pillow. My attending physician looked at me and smiled. “Evelyn, congratulations. The match rate for this transplant is very high. After the surgery, you’ll be healthy.” She thought I was crying tears of joy, but only I knew the truth. The agony and despair of finally grasping hope, only for it to be crushed by the very people who were supposed to be my family. The pain of the heart attack still lingered throughout my body, yet I forced a smile. “Thank you, Doctor.” “Could I ask you for a favor? Please don’t tell my family about tomorrow’s surgery yet. I’ll sign the consent form myself.” Heaven had given me another chance. This time, I would hold on tight and never let go. The doctor nodded understandingly, closed my medical file, and left the room. My roommate, who shared the room with me, looked at me with envy and struck up a conversation. “I’ve been waiting for a suitable donor for almost seven years. It’s so wonderful to see you get to live. Your family must be so happy.” I smiled but said nothing. They couldn’t possibly be happy, not when their beloved adopted daughter, Chloe, hadn’t found a donor yet. Even when I was hospitalized, no one was willing to visit or take care of me. Several times, the pain was so severe that doctors issued a critical condition notice, requiring my family to sign. With trembling hands, I immediately called Noah. But his first words were full of blame. “I told you not to call me in the middle of the night. Chloe is a light sleeper; it will wake her up.” I curled up on the hospital bed, cold sweat soaking my gown. My voice trembled as I spoke. “Noah, I’m in so much pain. The doctor said I might not make it. I want to see you, to see Ethan and Mom and Dad.” “Please, can you all come to the hospital and see me?” But I didn’t get his concern. Noah’s hushed voice was utterly cold. “Stop acting out, Evelyn. You just can’t stand us revolving around Chloe. You’re faking pain to trick us into visiting you.” “This is the fifth time. The doctors issued a critical condition notice, and we didn’t come to see you, yet you still survived.” I blinked, stunned, unable to believe the man I loved most would say such hurtful things. I instinctively began to explain. “I’m not lying, Noah…” Before I could finish, the phone was snatched away, and my mother, Eleanor’s, equally hushed voice came through. “Evelyn, I beg you, stop being so dramatic.” Her disappointment was so heavy that I could almost picture her tightly furrowed brow, even through the phone. “Chloe’s heart isn’t feeling well today. Do you need to have heart trouble too? Always copying Chloe—do you really think we can’t see through it?” Eleanor’s voice rose slightly, disturbing Chloe, who let out a mumbled groan. My father, Richard’s, muffled voice immediately interjected. “What’s there to say to Evelyn? Hang up quickly, don’t wake Chloe.” And just like that, the call was disconnected. I held my phone, feeling a wrenching pain in my heart. I couldn’t tell if it was from the words I’d just heard or something else. Just like now, knowing deep down they only cared if Chloe lived a healthy life, I still felt a stinging in my nose from their coldness at the operating room door in my previous life. “Your family seems to be here.” My roommate’s words brought my thoughts back. I turned to the door and saw Mom, Dad, and Noah pushing it open and walking in. Mom’s eyes reddened the moment she saw me. She choked up and came forward to hug me.

“Oh, Evelyn, this is wonderful! You finally got your heart transplant!” “I’m really so happy to see Evelyn healthy again.” Dad held a food container in his hand and smiled as he offered it. “Knowing you’re having surgery soon, your mother specifically went to the market to buy the freshest chicken and slow-cooked it all day into a rich broth.” “Eat it quickly to regain your strength. The surgery won’t be so hard then.” My body stiffened. For a moment, I didn’t know what expression to make. Since I was brought back to the George family, my parents had always been indifferent towards me. This was the first time Mom had personally made a meal just for me. I lowered my eyes, looking at the chicken broth, but didn’t reach for it. Dad didn’t seem to mind. He placed the soup on the cabinet and spoke gently. “Evelyn, I know you didn’t grow up with us and feel a bit distant, but for such a major surgery like a heart transplant, why did you ask the doctor to keep it from us?” I clenched my hands, knowing I hadn’t managed to hide it from them after all. Noah stepped forward, gently uncurled my hand, and rubbed it. “Why do you still like to dig your nails into your palm when you’re nervous? I’m your husband, of course, I have the duty to sign your surgical consent form. You don’t have to worry about troubling me.” Looking at their three equally gentle smiling faces, I found it hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but retort sarcastically. “You’re all busy looking after Chloe. This little thing doesn’t need to be brought to your attention.” Their smiles faltered slightly. Then, Noah sighed and gently ruffled my hair. “You’re still mad at us for not visiting you in the hospital because we were taking care of Chloe, aren’t you?” “It was our oversight. We were wrong. We’ll definitely change.” He picked up the bowl of soup, blew on it to cool it, and brought it to my lips. “This is my earnest effort. It won’t taste good if it gets cold. Let me feed you.” The surgery was still fifteen hours away. Even if I drank this bowl of soup now, it wouldn’t affect my transplant tomorrow. They must have known that. My heart fluttered slightly. I couldn’t help but wonder if my parents were truly seeing me again. I opened my mouth, then closed it, pushing the bowl away. “Mom, thank you for your kindness, but I don’t have an appetite right now. Just leave it here for a bit.” “Bang!” As soon as the words left my lips, a small figure kicked open the door. My son, Ethan, burst in like a little cannonball, crying as he spoke to my mother, Eleanor. “Grandma, what do we do? Mom won’t drink the soup, so Chloe can’t get the heart transplant!” “I don’t want Chloe to hurt! Make Mom give the heart to Chloe!” “What?” I stared in shock at the bowl of soup, then snatched the thermos from Dad’s hand, stirring frantically. A small blue capsule floated up. I recognized it. It was my long-term anticoagulant medication. But days ago, when the doctor informed me there was a high possibility of a donor heart, I had stopped taking it. All to seize every chance for a heart transplant. If I took this medication before surgery, I might not survive the operation due to a clotting disorder. And the doctors, after comprehensive consideration, would abandon my transplant.

Fear crawled all over my heart. I clutched my chest, the pain so intense that a layer of cold sweat seeped from my back. I couldn’t take it anymore. I smashed the food container in my hand and roared. “Are you trying to kill me?!” The pain of betrayal from two lifetimes combined, tears filled my eyes. I looked mournfully at the few people who were supposed to be the closest in the world to me, choking back sobs as I demanded an answer. “Dad, Mom, I’m your daughter, aren’t I? Why are you doing this to me?” My sudden outburst of smashing things startled Ethan. He flinched, then cried even louder. “Bad mom! You don’t hurt at all, why are you still trying to steal Chloe’s heart?” “I don’t want a selfish mom! I only want Chloe!” “Don’t hurt?” I mumbled, chewing on those words as if they were shards of glass I couldn’t swallow. Looking at this son I had nearly died giving birth to, all my affection for him dissipated like smoke. It was precisely because I was in so much pain during my episodes—my face pale, expression twisted, black hair matted with cold sweat clinging to my cheeks—that I looked so ugly and terrifying. I always worried about scaring my little one. So I never let him see me during an episode. Ethan would sometimes notice something was off. He’d cautiously ask me. “Mom, does your heart hurt?” I would force a smile and reassure him. “No, I don’t hurt, Ethan. Don’t worry, okay?” I told the lie so many times that Ethan actually believed it. And just because I lied about not hurting, he wanted me to give my heart to Chloe. It was utterly ridiculous. I hunched my back, trying to alleviate the pain, and couldn’t help but let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “Ethan.” I stared straight at him, my voice raspy. “If I told you I hurt too, would you still want me to give my heart to Chloe?” My heart condition wasn’t always this severe. But while waiting for a donor, I unexpectedly found myself pregnant. It was already difficult for me to conceive. The doctor told me that if I aborted this child, I might never have another one. She pointed to the beating heart on the ultrasound for me to see. “He’s very healthy.” I looked at the screen, many thoughts flashing through my mind, yet feeling as if nothing had. But in the end, I touched that beating heart and decided to keep the child. My pregnancy was incredibly difficult. I couldn’t move much, and my morning sickness was severe. By the time I carried Ethan to term and gave birth, it had almost killed me. My attending physician immediately came to me, looking serious. “Evelyn, you’re insane! Because of this child, your heart’s lifespan has been shortened by almost three years!” But looking at the small, soft infant in my arms, I shook my head firmly. “Doctor, I don’t regret it.” At least, not before I died in my previous life. Ethan’s tears paused. He bit his lip. “Yes, I want Mom to give her heart to Chloe.” All my strength seemed to drain away in an instant. I almost lost my balance. I wiped the tears from my face and spoke coldly to the menacing group. “You want me to give up my donor heart? Impossible.” The atmosphere completely froze. Mom, Eleanor, her face grim, spoke with disappointment. “Evelyn, ever since you came back to the George family, Chloe has always yielded to you. Haven’t you bullied her enough these years?” “You won’t even give up a heart for Chloe. You’re truly a greedy person.” Noah chimed in. “You still have three years to live, but Chloe is in so much pain that she can’t sleep at night. She’s so frail a gust of wind could blow her away.” “How can your heart be so cruel, watching your sister suffer?” But because I gave birth to Ethan, those three years I had left were long gone. If I didn’t get a heart transplant now, I might die next month, or even tomorrow. My mouth was full of bitterness, but I had no strength left to explain any of this to them. I just closed my eyes and told them to leave. “Chloe doesn’t deserve to be my sister. If you think I’m heartless, then after the surgery, I can leave the George family and never bother you again.” Countless insults immediately erupted, but I didn’t take a single word to heart. I called security.

“Someone is causing a disturbance in the hospital, disrupting normal medical order.” Security guards came and escorted them out, and then my ears finally had peace. Exhaustion also washed over me. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up again, a nurse informed me to prepare for surgery. I changed into a surgical gown and lay on the operating table. I was being wheeled to the operating room alone when someone blocked my way. Noah stood at the operating room door, his face grim. “Evelyn can’t have surgery. She drank milk last night and didn’t fast.” The head nurse’s face instantly changed. She asked me sternly, “Did you secretly eat something?” My face was pale. I shook my head, about to explain. Mom and Dad also stepped forward, bringing a frail-looking Chloe with them. “Doctor, we are her closest family. Of course, we want her to be healthy, but we can’t lie.” “Evelyn drank milk last night. We saw it with our own eyes.” They pushed Chloe forward. “But Chloe didn’t eat anything last night. She needs the same donor heart as Evelyn. For everyone’s sake, let Chloe have this transplant.” “We’ll make sure to keep Evelyn in line next time and not let her eat things she shouldn’t.” I instantly understood what they meant. There were no cameras in the room. Whether I had eaten or not depended entirely on their word. And once a donor heart is harvested, it’s only viable for three hours, including air transport time. If I wasted any more time trying to prove I hadn’t eaten, this heart would be useless. I gave them a cold glance, my entire heart completely chilled. The head nurse was already hesitating, but I lay calmly on the operating table, unmoving. The operating room door opened, and Dr. Diaz, my attending physician, beckoned to the head nurse. “Alright, wheel Evelyn in.” Noah’s face changed. He spoke urgently. “Doctor, she ate something last night, she can’t have the surgery!” Dr. Diaz looked at them coldly, then tossed something out. “Whether she ate or not, Evelyn already proved it to us. As for you, you’re implicated in attempted murder. Get ready to go to jail.” The operating room door closed. I saw Mom, Dad, and Noah’s faces instantly turn ashen.

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As the top deep-sea rescue diver in the country, I received an urgent call for help. The missing person was a ten-year-old, last seen in Gale Creek Bay. Ten years ago, my sister, Sophia, accidentally fell into the same waters. My then-girlfriend, Olivia, who was the diving team captain, promised me herself, “With me there, I’ll definitely bring Sophia back safely.” But what she brought back was only Sophia’s bloated body. Later, I learned that during the dive, she had actually caught Sophia’s hand but, wanting to give the credit to her partner, Marcus, she deliberately unclipped the safety line attached to Sophia. After surfacing, Olivia cried, claiming she had done her best. Marcus, too, became a “rescue hero” through fabricated stories. From that day on, I dropped out of college and trained to get my rescue diver license. Over ten years, I’d done more than two hundred underwater rescues. One hundred ninety-three lives made it back to shore, alive, because of me. I’d simulated the underwater conditions thousands of times, hoping that one day, no one else would suffer Sophia’s fate. But today, the command center sent a photo of the missing child to my phone. I stared at the screen for a long time. The child’s mother stood on the shore, her face contorted in tears as she cried into the camera. I recognized her. I flipped my phone face down on the table. “I can’t do this rescue. I’m not going down.”

“Ethan, are you kidding me?” David, the dispatcher at the command center, chuckled, as if he genuinely didn’t understand what I was saying. “Last year, during the floods, you dove alone into forty meters of murky water and pulled that kid out of the shipwreck, didn’t you?” “You’re the record holder for live underwater rescues. No offense, but if you say you can’t go down, then no one in this country can!” He paused, a hint of playfulness still in his voice. “You’re telling me you can’t handle this level of a rescue?” “I’m not kidding.” “Ethan…” “I’m serious. I can’t take this mission. Find someone else, don’t waste time with me.” After that, I hung up. But before I could even zip up my gear bag, the door burst open. Hayes practically stumbled in, his forehead slick with sweat. “Ethan,” he braced himself against the doorframe, his chest heaving, “You… you can’t leave yet.” “Hayes, there’s nothing to discuss.” “Just hear me out first.” He closed the door, leaning his back against it as if afraid I’d walk right out. “You know Gale Creek Bay’s conditions. Our regular teams have been searching for two hours. Three teams have rotated through, and they haven’t found a trace.” He paused, lowering his voice. “The boy who’s missing, his dad is Marcus, the owner of the biggest commercial diving equipment company in the country. His mom, Olivia, she used to be a diving team captain, too.” “Without their funding for the rescue team all these years, where would we get all this top-notch equipment…” “Then use the equipment to search.” I cut him off. “Since the underwater search equipment is so advanced, it’s not like I absolutely have to go down.” I picked up my bag, ready to leave, but Hayes rushed forward and grabbed my arm, holding it tight. “All the equipment has been used! Sonar can’t reach all the blind spots, we still need divers to search by hand!” “Ethan, if we weren’t utterly desperate, I wouldn’t be begging you.” I didn’t respond. Hayes paced frantically, stomping his foot. “Ethan, are you worried about safety?” “Gale Creek Bay is dangerous, I admit, but I guarantee you, the shore support is top-tier.” “Dry suits, spare oxygen tanks, underwater comms – whatever you need, I’ll get you. I’ll stake my life on your safety!” “Hayes, it’s not a safety issue.” “Then what is it?” “Personal reasons.” “Personal…” His voice rose a notch. “Ethan, there’s a ten-year-old kid down there, and you’re telling me ‘personal reasons’?” By then, the news of my refusal to dive had spread. Rescue team members gathered in small groups around the doorway. “Ethan, you’re the benchmark for our rescue team! If you don’t take it, who else would dare?” “What kind of legend? Stop praising him. I think he’s just a coward, scared to die.” Curses erupted, one after another. I showed no expression, glancing down at my watch. “Hayes, you’ve wasted another five minutes.” “I don’t want this mission. You can find someone else. Time is running out. I suggest you start the rescue immediately.” Ignoring their attempts to stop me, I turned to leave without a word. A voice from the back of the crowd rang out. “Ethan, your sister… she died in Gale Creek Bay, didn’t she? How can you be so heartless, just leaving someone to die?!”

I froze, my heart clutched by an invisible hand. The phone screen was still lit, showing the ten-year-old boy smiling, his front teeth visible. The exact same age as Sophia had been… I closed my eyes. If Olivia hadn’t unclipped her safety line back then, would everything have been different? Suddenly, the commotion in the crowd pulled me back to reality. A man in an expensive designer suit strode forward. He didn’t even look at me. He just opened his wallet and started throwing stacks of cash at me. “What’s the problem with going down?” “You just want money, right? Come on! Name your price!” “Is this the guy you found for me?” Marcus turned his head, glancing at Hayes, his voice full of disdain. He then looked me up and down, a mocking sneer on his face. “So you’re the top underwater rescue diver now?” “Well, I’ll be damned. This is quite a sight.” “So-called rescue heroes, just holding another family’s child’s life hostage for a payout.” He moved closer, pulling out his phone again. “Still not enough? Name a number! I can transfer it right away. A hundred thousand? Half a million? Whatever it takes to save my son, any amount is fine.” Everyone in the hallway gasped, marveling at his generosity. I didn’t move. I just stared, lost in thought, at the medal pinned to his chest. Ten years. The honor gained from my sister’s death, still displayed on him. Following my gaze, he glanced at the design—two hands cradling a life—and chuckled contemptuously. “What? Envious?” “I’m not like a diver of your caliber. This medal, I earned it with my life.” “Ten years ago, right here in Gale Creek Bay! Visibility underwater was almost zero, and my wife and I dove in without a second thought to start the rescue.” He placed himself on a moral high ground. “Unlike some people, who, just because they have some skill, exploit people’s desperation.” I glared at him, only a few words escaping my throat. “Did you save her?” Marcus’s expression stiffened for a second, but he quickly assumed a defensive posture. “In those conditions, no one could guarantee a hundred percent success…” I let out a soft, bitter laugh. “So, you didn’t save her, did you?” “I am indeed different from you. Without absolute certainty, I won’t just dive in. And I certainly won’t easily drag crying family members on shore from hope to despair!” I forced him to meet my gaze, but it was clear he’d long forgotten that I was the man standing on that shore, waiting for Sophia to be brought up that day. He grew enraged, grabbing my collar. “Don’t care if I saved her or not, at least I wasn’t a coward! You don’t even dare to go in the water, what right do you have to judge me here?” The murmuring around us grew louder. “Mr. Marcus is right. At least he put his life on the line ten years ago. Ethan talks a big game, but when it matters, he’s just a greedy coward.” Accusatory stares felt like needles piercing my back. Everyone thought I was avaricious, selfish, and cold-blooded. I ignored them, until a woman stumbled in. Her hair was disheveled, her makeup streaked by tears. Ten years had passed, and even now, in her disarray, time hadn’t left many marks on her face. The woman who had vehemently promised to bring Sophia back safely, yet personally pushed her into the abyss, stood before me.

I unconsciously clenched my fists. She didn’t even truly look at me, instead grabbing Marcus’s arm, signaling him to step back, then turned to face me. “Please.” “Hayes said you’re the rescue team’s last hope. I don’t know you, but I choose to trust you!” “My child is still underwater. He’s only ten. He’s terrified of the dark, and he needs to hear my voice every night to fall asleep.” Tears dripped from her chin. “If you just go down, I’ll do whatever you ask. Anything, any price.” I took a deep breath, the emotions suppressed for ten years churning in my chest. Perhaps this price was greater than they could imagine. Would they still insist then? Finally, I spoke, my voice low. “I can agree to come to the site with you.” Olivia was overjoyed, grabbing my hand and exclaiming. “Oh, thank God, that’s wonderful! Your name is Ethan, right?” She paused, a little hesitant. “No matter what your name is, my husband and I will be so grateful.” I cut her off. “Don’t misunderstand. I agreed to go to the site, not to go in the water.” Ten years. I stood on the riverbank of Gale Creek Bay once more. The ground was covered with equipment: multi-dimensional sonar, high-power underwater lights, three top-of-the-line rescue boats on standby. A dozen experts huddled around a folding table, pointing at hydrographic charts. “This is Mr. Marcus’s child! We have to save him, no matter the cost!” I stood outside the crowd, looking at the scene, and suddenly felt a lump in my throat. Ten years ago, Sophia fell into the same waters. But on the shore, there was only one inflatable boat, a few ordinary safety ropes, and Olivia’s empty promise. Today, because it was Marcus’s son lying at the bottom, the entire command center could mobilize so much equipment within two hours. What about Sophia’s life then? What was it worth? At most, it was just a stepping stone for them to gain fame and fortune. Even if they only retrieved a bloated body, they could still wear the halo of “rescue heroes,” attract investors, start businesses, and rake in cash in the business world. At that moment, the rescue personnel on site gathered around, their faces grim. “Based on underwater air pressure and the child’s equipment capacity, the rescue window is only twenty minutes. The child is running low on oxygen. If we don’t go down now, he’ll be gone for good!” “Ethan, since you’re already here, why don’t you go down now?” Countless mouths opened and closed before me, but I shook my head. “You have the most advanced sonar in the country here, a top-tier medical team, and all these experts.” “Besides, didn’t the child’s parents also participate in the Gale Creek Bay rescue ten years ago? If anyone should go down, it certainly isn’t me.” Olivia seemed to not have expected me to suddenly bring up the past. She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, her lips trembling. “Yes, we went down back then, but we were injured after that rescue and moved behind the scenes. Technically, we can’t even enter the core area now!” Perhaps with a guilty conscience, she suddenly collapsed to her knees. Her knees hit the ground with a dull thud. “Mr. Ethan, please, I beg you. I admit we weren’t skilled enough. We don’t deserve the title of rescue heroes, but our child is innocent!” “I’m begging you, if you’ll just go down, I’ll do anything!” She frantically banged her head against the ground, her forehead instantly red and swollen. “Please go down! Save my son!” Her gut-wrenching cries instantly ignited the anger of the surrounding crowd. “Ethan! Are you even human?! How can you treat a grieving mother like this?” “Ethan, you’re too selfish!” “She’s kneeling to you, and you’re still playing hard to get!” Several emotional team members rushed forward, grabbing my arms, desperately trying to push me into the water. “You’re going down today!” Malice washed over me from all sides, like a crushing tide. I spoke, my voice hoarse. “You all want me to go down so badly?” “But even if I do go down, even if I reach your child…” “How do you know I won’t also let go?”

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After signing the multi-billion dollar contract with Robertson Corp., our company held a celebration dinner. When a roast chicken was served, Chloe Belle’s assistant, Ethan Calderon, deliberately cut out the fatty, greasy piece of the roast chicken and put it on my plate: “You’re just a lazy, good-for-nothing freeloader.” “All you do is hide in your office, enjoying the AC and sipping coffee, while we do all the hard work and accomplishments.” “This chicken tail is perfect for you, isn’t it?” “After you’re done, go clean out your office. Miss Belle says she needs that spot for someone more capable.” I turned to Chloe Belle, her eyes offered only silent confirmation. I chuckled, then casually picked up the chicken tail and stuffed it into Ethan Calderon’s mouth. Immediately, I pulled out my phone and made a call: “Get the contract back. I’m canceling our partnership with Belle Corp.” I helped Chloe Belle grow her small company into the large corporation it is today. I worried she might get bullied by competitors when I wasn’t always by her side, so even though Belle Corp. wasn’t quite qualified to partner with Robertson Corp., I agreed to it for her protection. But she didn’t know I was the actual head of Robertson Corp. I planned to tell her on her birthday. Who would have thought that after the contract was signed, every time I tried to order a dish, her assistant, Ethan Calderon, would say it was too expensive. The third time, I looked up at him, annoyed: “Ethan Calderon, what exactly do you mean by that?” The air crackled with unspoken tension. “Are you out of your mind? Can’t you see?” He shook his head and chuckled, meeting my gaze. “Certain people deserve certain things. And the dishes you ordered? You don’t deserve them.” Just then, a waiter brought a roast chicken to the table and said to Ethan Calderon: “Sir, all your dishes have been served.” He picked up a fork and reached for the roast chicken, cut off the chicken tail, and placed it on my plate. “James, you’re just a lazy, good-for-nothing freeloader.” “All you do is hide in your office, enjoying the AC and sipping coffee, while we do all the hard work and accomplishments.” “You think a good-for-nothing like you deserves to eat well?” “Here. Eat up! The chicken tail is plenty greasy; it’s perfect for you.” “Oh, and by the way.” “After you’re done, remember to hurry back and clean out your office. Miss Belle said she needs that spot for someone more capable.” I looked at the chicken tail on my plate, but I didn’t get angry. Everyone watched, tense and fearful, as if a battle was about to erupt between us. I turned to Chloe Belle. She was wearing a tight professional dress today, accentuating her devilish figure. But she was sitting so close to Ethan Calderon, they looked like a couple no matter how you sliced it. Everyone exchanged glances, not daring to breathe. Everyone knew Chloe and I were married, but her excessive intimacy with Ethan Calderon truly humiliated me in public. “Chloe…” “It’s Miss Belle!” “At this company, no one is allowed to pull strings or try to cozy up to me, and that includes you. You must call me Miss Belle.” Her voice was loud, every word reaching everyone’s ears. “Miss Belle!” My voice turned several degrees colder. “Is what Ethan Calderon said true?” She didn’t answer me directly; her gaze was dismissive. Her silent confirmation only fueled Ethan Calderon’s arrogance. He slammed the table and stood up: “Since you know Miss Belle’s stance, why aren’t you hurrying back to clean out your office…” “You’re really annoying!” I picked up the chicken tail with my hand and shoved it directly into his mouth.

I ignored the gasps from the entire room, even Chloe Belle’s cold stare. I picked up a napkin from in front of me, wiped my hand, and smirked. “Is the chicken tail tasty?” I tossed the napkin onto the floor, my anger flaring. “James, you’ve gone too far.” “How dare you publicly force such a dirty thing into Ethan Calderon’s mouth?” “Ugh!” Ethan Calderon bent over, gagging and then ran towards the restroom. But before he ran off, he shot me a fierce glare, as if to say he’d settle the score later. I sat back down, shedding my usual approachable demeanor. My cold gaze stunned Chloe Belle for a few seconds. “How have I gone too far?” “Isn’t this chicken tail the exquisite delicacy Ethan Calderon had delivered? If I eat it, it’s normal, but if Ethan Calderon eats it, it’s a crime? Chloe, you really have double standards!” Ethan Calderon’s retching could still be heard from the restroom, and Chloe Belle was again left speechless by my retort. “James, I’ll deal with you later.” She rushed into the restroom, in a posture of a wife most concerned for her husband, to wipe Ethan Calderon’s mouth, wash his face, and straighten his tie. They were so close, their noses almost touching. Ethan Calderon deliberately stumbled, falling right on top of Chloe Belle. “Miss Belle, are you alright?” “I’m fine, you caught my waist, didn’t you?” “My waist? Oh! I forgot, you were so wild on top of me last night…” He said it loudly, making sure I could hear every word. He didn’t finish the rest of his sentence, letting clever people guess what he meant. My hand clenched into a fist, but I released it two seconds later. I pulled out my phone and made a call: “Get the contract back. I’m canceling our partnership with Belle Corp.” I had done so much for her, yet she repaid me with infidelity and by trying to force me out. If I let that good-for-nothing Ethan Calderon walk all over me, I wouldn’t be James. Chloe Belle and Ethan Calderon walked out, clinging to each other, just as they heard me speak. Ethan Calderon scoffed at me on the spot, his face full of disdain. “James, you think you’re the boss of Robertson Corp.?” “What makes you think you can cancel the partnership with Belle Corp.?” Everyone else also gave me doubtful glances; they wouldn’t believe me. I leaned back in my chair, watching Ethan Calderon with the most languid posture. He wasn’t to be outdone, looking down at me condescendingly. “Because I am the head of Robertson Corp.!” The private room went silent for a few seconds, then erupted in laughter. “You say you’re the head of Robertson Corp.?” “Ha! Since when?” “If you’re so awesome, why are you working at Belle Corp.?” “Are you out of your mind, or do you just think we’re playing us for fools?” One sentence ignited the anger of all the senior executives. They hadn’t spoken earlier because they respected my marital relationship with Chloe. Now, seeing that Chloe was clearly siding with Ethan Calderon, they knew currying favor with him would be beneficial. “I didn’t treat anyone like a fool!” “Those were your words.” “Wait ten more minutes; you’ll know when the Robertson Corp. representatives return.” “Enough, stop spouting nonsense here.” “There’s no place for you at this meal. Stand up and go back to clean out your things immediately so Ethan Calderon can sit there.” “After all, he brought us closer to the Robertson Corp. partnership, so he absolutely deserves the Vice President position.” Ethan Calderon helped Belle Corp. partner with Robertson Corp.? I turned my head and looked coldly at Ethan Calderon. He looked back at me with immense pride. “Who else if not me?” “I know you’re probably unhappy about giving up your position.” “How about this, we’ll decide by vote.”

Chloe Belle looked at Ethan Calderon with an admiring gaze. “James, did you see that? That’s what a truly intelligent person says!” “Unlike you, all talk and no action, just making a fool of yourself.” I didn’t speak, waiting to see how Belle Corp.’s people would react. Chloe Belle shifted her gaze to everyone else, her voice carrying an undeniable authority. “You all heard what was said, didn’t you?” “So I’ll get straight to the point.” “Do you support Ethan Calderon as Vice President? Or James as Vice President? Let’s decide by a show of hands.” “Now, those who support Ethan Calderon as Vice President, please raise your hands!” Everyone saw that Chloe Belle highly valued her assistant; who would dare to defy her and not raise their hand? Everyone in the room, except me, raised their hands in approval. Ethan Calderon smirked, very pleased with the scene before him. Chloe Belle curled her lips into a smile, nodding with equal satisfaction. I instantly understood; she was humiliating me in public. “Those who support James remaining as Vice President, please raise your hands!” Everyone exchanged glances; no one raised a hand. Ethan Calderon scoffed and raised his hand, and even Chloe Belle looked a bit bewildered. Only I knew why he raised his hand. “Oh, my! How can you treat our current Vice President this way?” “At least one person could raise their hand so James wouldn’t lose face completely, right?” My confusion vanished, and his mockery grew stronger. “I’m such a considerate person; seeing James so pathetic, I just had to raise my hand.” “Oh, James! Don’t be sad, I’ll hold onto that position for you really well.” He looked at me with a fake smile. I didn’t get angry; I just lightly tapped the table. “Chloe, it’s not that I underestimate your abilities.” “Belle Corp. is a legitimate company, after all. You’re dismissing a Vice President by letting a bunch of nobodies make the decision? Without the shareholders’ input?” I was going to leave, but not by being casually dismissed by this bunch of worthless people. Honestly, without me, Belle Corp. would probably be close to bankruptcy. “James, are you looking down on us?” Someone slammed the table and stood up, starting to openly oppose me, seeing I was at a disadvantage. “Exactly! We are senior executives of Belle Corp. Don’t we have the right to vote?” I pulled out my phone, sent a message, and then stood up. “Yes!” “Simply put, to fire me, you need the support of the board of directors.” Seeing me about to leave, Ethan Calderon called out, smiling. “Wait!” “Didn’t you say Robertson Corp. representatives would bring a contract to cancel the deal?” “What, can’t keep up the act anymore?” “See! That’s the kind of competence our Vice President uses to help Belle Corp. thrive.” “Laugh all you want!” “Anyway, everyone gets arrogant when they’re in power.” “The partnership between Robertson Corp. and Belle Corp. depends on tomorrow’s board meeting.” If they want to dig their own grave, I won’t stop them. After my figure disappeared through the door, everyone stopped laughing. My departure didn’t cause a ripple; instead, they continued ordering food and occasionally mocked me for entertainment. Back home, I washed away the day’s fatigue. Holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and a glass in the other, I lay on the single sofa on the balcony, poured myself a glass, and slowly savored it. Just then, my phone vibrated.

I glanced at the caller ID, and knowing it was Ethan Calderon, I didn’t answer. He seemed to enjoy it endlessly, calling again and again. I’m not one to lose my temper easily, so I let him call as much as he wanted. Until, getting bored, he sent me a video and a voice message. It showed him in Chloe Belle’s bed, hugging and kissing her wildly, engaging in intimate acts. He thought provoking me would make me furious. Instead, I immediately downloaded their video and sent it to everyone in the company. I thought my heart would feel a little sad, but surprisingly, it didn’t. The next day, when I returned to the company, everyone gave me strange looks. “Did you all get it last night?” “Mr. James actually sent me an intimate video of Miss Belle and Assistant Ethan Calderon in bed!” “You got it too? Holy hell, I got it too!” “Me too…” “How did everyone get it? What’s Mr. James playing at?” “His fiancée getting intimate with another man, and he’s not angry? He even has the energy to send that kind of video to all the employees.” “Quiet down, Miss Belle is coming.” As soon as the words fell, Chloe Belle, clicking in high heels, strode towards me. When she got close, she raised her hand, ready to slap me. I caught her hand: “Still so angry first thing in the morning?” “Are you not man enough for Chloe? Is that why you couldn’t satisfy her?” Ethan Calderon’s face instantly flushed red; it seemed my counterattack had made him furious. “James, you’re disgusting.” “Why would you send my intimate photos to every employee in the company?” I smiled, shook off her hand, then straightened my collar. “Guess why I have a video of you two in bed together?” The hall instantly fell silent; everyone was curious. “Well, it’s all thanks to Assistant Ethan Calderon.” “He sent me your intimate video, but he didn’t tell me the details. I thought, such good benefits, I shouldn’t hog them all, right?” “So, I made sure every employee in the company got a copy.” Chloe Belle looked at Ethan Calderon in disbelief, but he denied it with a distraught face. Just then, the shareholders in the conference room sent word. They had been waiting for a long time; if we didn’t go in soon, they’d leave. Ethan Calderon certainly wouldn’t let them go, as he hadn’t formally taken my position yet. As soon as I walked into the conference room, I became the center of attention. Chloe Belle, with Ethan Calderon beside her, walked arrogantly to her seat. She pointed at the seat that belonged to me. “Ethan Calderon, this position is yours from now on. Go sit.” “Alrighty!” Ethan Calderon beamed and quickly walked over, sitting down without hesitation. “Indeed, the Vice President’s chair is so comfortable.” The chairs were all identical, yet everyone present understood the deeper meaning behind his words. Someone couldn’t help but stand up and ask: “Miss Belle, you’re letting an assistant sit in the Vice President’s position? Where will Mr. James sit?” Chloe Belle smiled: “That’s why! That’s why I called all of you here.” Ethan Calderon immediately straightened his clothes, and Chloe Belle instantly announced to all the shareholders. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement today.” “I am dismissing James and formally appointing Ethan Calderon to the position of Vice President.” Except for Arthur Franklin, the old shareholder who spoke, no one seemed surprised. It seemed that last night, besides their intimate activities, they had also been busy winning over supporters. Arthur Franklin was dissatisfied with the outcome and confronted Chloe Belle. Ethan Calderon picked up a teacup and smashed it on his head: “Old fool, if you can’t bear to part with James, then get lost with him!” “Sell your shares! Belle Corp. might be better off without a stubborn old man like you!” I walked in and helped Arthur Franklin up. I, who was usually calm and composed, finally erupted in anger. “Do you all support Miss Belle dismissing me?” “Yes!” The reply was uniform and forceful, as if they feared I wouldn’t hear them. “Alright, then I’ll give you a gift too.” I raised my hand and clapped: “Everyone, come in!” The door opened, and several stern men in sharp suits walked in. They held a contract in their hands—the partnership agreement between Belle Corp. and Robertson Corp. “Chloe, I can raise you up, and I can cast you down to hell!” “I announce that Robertson Corp. will never partner with Belle Corp. again.”

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My daughter, Ashley, came home for her first Christmas after graduating from a prestigious university, driving a luxury car and making a grand return. She handed out gifts to everyone in the family. “Grandma Susan, Grandpa George, this is an ornate gold-plated good luck charm. May it bless you with health and a long life.” “Dad, here’s that Rolex Submariner you always talked about. Now you’ll make a statement when you go out!” “Brittany, you always take such good care of yourself. This limited-edition skincare set will be perfect for you.” Watching everyone cheer with excitement, I nervously rubbed my grease-stained hands, my heart full of hope. After all, I’d given up my executive position to focus on her education, and for over ten years, I hadn’t even bought myself a new outfit. Finally, Ashley smiled and walked over to me, handing me a black plastic bag: “Mom, this gift is special, I picked it just for you. It’s perfect, you’ll definitely love it.” I opened the bag excitedly, but my smile instantly froze when I saw what was inside.

A toilet brush, toilet cleaner, steel wool, rubber gloves… All cleaning supplies. “Mom, I carefully picked out these brands. Their stain removal power is super strong.” “They’ll last you for years, and it’ll make cleaning the house so much easier.” “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything? This is imported toilet cleaner, one bottle is like three ordinary ones.” Ashley, seeing me frozen in place, let her smile fade a little, a hint of impatience in her voice. “I even made a special trip to Sam’s Club for these. Didn’t you always complain about your back hurting when you scrubbed the toilet? With this, you just soak it, and it’s clean. It saves time and effort. I’m doing my duty as a good daughter.” I clutched the bottle of blue liquid, my gaze sweeping across the living room. George and Susan held their heavy gold-plated charms, grinning from ear to ear. My husband, David, wore that emerald-green Rolex, excitedly adjusting it under the light. Brittany was dabbing thousands of dollars worth of premium skincare onto her face. The room was filled with laughter, But not for me. Only I, the “housemaid” who had quit her job to support her daughter for over ten years and served the entire family, received a pile of cleaning tools. “Ashley,” my voice was dry, “Is this… your Christmas gift for Mom?” Ashley pouted, popped a cherry into her mouth, and said nonchalantly: “Yeah. Mom, don’t be ungrateful. These things might look cheap, but they add up to a few hundred dollars.” “Besides, Grandma and Grandpa are old and need to take care of their health, Dad needs to save face, and Brittany needs her beauty routine. What about you?” “You just spend all day in the kitchen and bathroom, so anything else would be wasted on you.” Wasted on me? So, in my daughter’s eyes, I was only fit to deal with toilets and grease. “Exactly, Kate,” Brittany interjected snidely, looking into a mirror. “Ashley is just being practical. If she gave you a skincare set, you don’t exactly primp yourself, so it’d just be a waste. A fancy watch? Would you wear that to haggle at the farmer’s market? How tacky!” David frowned and chimed in, “Yeah, it’s the holidays, and the kid made a heartfelt gesture. You should be praising her, not pulling a long face and being dramatic.” “It’s not easy for Ashley, fresh out of college and already thinking of buying things for the family. Instead of praising her, you’re making a scene.” Susan carefully tucked her gold-plated charm into her pocket, squinting at me. “Who tends to this entire family’s every need? Every single thing? Ashley feels bad you work so hard, so she bought you useful tools. How can you be so narrow-minded, Kate?” I stood there, my ears ringing. I looked at these people, whom I had poured my heart and soul into serving for half my life. I woke up at five every morning to cook nutritious meals for the whole family, and at eleven at night, I was still hand-washing their silk clothes. The year Ashley was a senior in high school, I broke my leg in the snow while delivering hot soup to her. Even with a cast on, I still washed her school uniform. When David’s startup failed, I sold my pre-marital condo to bail him out. For three years, when George was bedridden after his stroke, I was the one who fed him, changed him, bathed him, and turned him, never getting a good night’s sleep. Now, they sat here, looking glamorous, enjoying my daughter’s “thoughtful gesture,” and then collectively trampling on my dignity. “Mom, hurry up and put them away,” Ashley urged impatiently. “We still need to make Christmas dinner later. You can try that powerful degreaser, I hear it works wonders. It’ll save you from reeking of cooking oil and grossing everyone out.” “Hahahahahaha…” Brittany burst into laughter, and George and Susan joined in. Reeking of cooking oil… grossing everyone out. I looked down at my hands, rough and cracked from years of constant labor. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” “Since Ashley specially picked them, and they’re so strong, I definitely should try them out.”

I picked up the black plastic bag and strode towards the dining table. On the table was the Slow-roasted Prime Rib I had been preparing since yesterday, slow-roasted for a full twenty hours. “Hey, Kate, what are you doing? Dinner hasn’t started yet, why are you putting trash on the table?” Brittany shrieked. I ignored her, deftly unscrewing the cap of the imported toilet cleaner. With a flick of my wrist. “Splash!” The entire bottle of toilet cleaner poured out. The blue liquid instantly mixed into the rich brown gravy, bubbling eerily and emitting a nauseating smell. The room fell into a dead silence. Ashley’s eyes widened. “Mom! What are you doing? Are you crazy!” I didn’t stop. I grabbed the powerful degreaser and aimed the spray nozzle at the beautifully plated Atlantic lobster. “Hiss—hiss—” White foam covered the lobster shell. “Ah! My lobster! Three hundred dollars!” Ashley shrieked, shoving me away. “Mom! Are you sick?! I paid for all this! Do you know how expensive it is? Can you afford to pay me back?!” I stumbled back, my waist hitting the corner of the table with a searing pain. But I laughed out loud. Then I grabbed the brand-new toilet brush and plunged it into the Slow-roasted Prime Rib, now mixed with toilet cleaner, stirring vigorously. Gravy splashed. The liquid splattered onto Ashley’s new designer wool sweater. “Ah—! That’s disgusting! My clothes! Mom! You did that on purpose!” Ashley jumped back, dodging me. I held up the dripping toilet brush, pointing at the ruined Christmas dinner. My voice was calm. “Ashley was right, this cleaning power is truly strong.” “Don’t you all think I’m dirty? That I reek of cooking oil? That I’m only fit to scrub toilets?” “Then you all can taste what a toilet brush tastes like.” “This is your wonderful daughter, your wonderful granddaughter’s thoughtful gesture, specially chosen, worth hundreds of dollars!” “Eat it!” “Anyone who doesn’t eat it is disrespecting Ashley and throwing away her heartfelt gift!” David finally reacted, his face flushed purple with rage. He lunged at me, raising his hand. “Katherine!” “You’ve gone too far!” The slap didn’t land. Because I was still holding the bottle of powerful degreaser, aimed right at his eyes. David froze, his hand stopping mid-air. “You wouldn’t dare spray me, would you?” “Katherine, I think you’ve had enough of the good life! What’s wrong with you, going crazy on Christmas? Do you know how much this table of food cost? You couldn’t pay it back even if I sold you!” I sneered, “How much?” “Is it worth my ten years of youth? Is it worth my ten years of being a slave? Is it worth all the housekeeper fees and caregiver fees I saved the Johnson family?” Susan slapped her thigh, wailing, “You were just doing your duty!” “What wife doesn’t do housework? Are you so special? Ashley buys you a gift and you’re still picky, you ruin everything, you destroy the whole family’s Christmas dinner! You’re a total spendthrift! Such a curse! How did our Johnson family ever marry a jinx like you?!” Ashley stood by, her eyes red with anger, tears streaming down her face. She turned and threw herself into David’s arms, crying heartbreakingly: “Dad… I really just wanted to make Mom’s life easier… I don’t know why Mom hates me so much… Did I do something wrong… Dad… I’m so sad…” Look. This is the daughter I raised. She was the one who humiliated me with a pile of cleaning tools, but now she looks like she’s suffered the greatest injustice.

David tenderly patted his daughter’s back, pointing a finger at my nose. “Look what you’ve done to her! Ashley has never cried like this in her life! Katherine, you have to apologize to Ashley today!” Brittany chimed in, making a snide comment: “David, I think Kate’s just going through menopause, she’s completely unhinged, she can’t stand to see us happy, can’t stand to see Ashley succeed.” “Ashley is so accomplished, and she even bought her a gift, but instead, she goes and ruins the whole family’s Christmas dinner. This is only tolerated in our home, any other family would have thrown her out.” “Get out!!!” I suddenly smashed the toilet brush to the ground and ripped off the greasy apron I’d worn for ten years. “Since I’m a curse, since I’m unreasonable, since I’m only fit to scrub toilets.” “Then I’m not serving this family anymore.” “Aren’t you all rich? Don’t you have gold-plated charms, Rolexes, and premium skincare?” “Then you all can manage it yourselves!” With that, I turned and walked towards the bedroom. Behind me, Ashley’s tearful voice cried out, “Mom! You’re such a disappointment!” “You ruined my thoughtful gesture, and you ruined this family! You’re simply… simply not a good mother!” My steps faltered, and a sharp pain twisted in my chest. But I didn’t look back. I walked into the bedroom and pulled open the closet. It was full of David’s designer suits and shirts. My clothes? Oh, I forgot. My worn-out clothes were stuffed into a woven bag in the corner, not even deemed worthy of the closet. I turned to look at those shabby clothes, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea. I don’t want them. I only took my ID, bank cards, and the senior accountant certificate locked in a drawer. Looking at that certificate, my eyes welled up with tears. Once upon a time, I was the CFO of a well-known multinational company, with a brilliant future ahead of me. For this family, for Ashley to study in peace, I locked it away in the dark, for ten years. I never imagined that ten years of sacrifice would lead to this end. I composed myself. When I walked out of the bedroom, the living room was still a mess. Ashley was holding her phone, taking pictures of the chaos. Seeing me, she immediately put away her phone and put on a heartbroken expression. “Mom, are you really leaving? It’s Christmas, where are you going? Just apologize to me and Dad and the others, and clean up this mess, and we won’t blame you.” “Don’t make a scene, you have nothing without this family. You’re so old, and you don’t have a job, where can you go?” I looked coldly at the daughter I once considered my life. “Ashley, since you bought so many cleaning tools, use them well.” “The grease on the floor, the leftover food on the table, and this entire Johnson family’s rotten hearts.” “You can slowly clean it yourselves.” With that, I pulled open the front door. A cold wind, carrying snowflakes, blew into my face, Completely shutting the suffocating “home” behind me. Christmas Eve streets were empty. I pulled my five-year-old worn-out winter coat tighter and found a hotel. Once in the room, I collapsed onto the bed, and my phone suddenly began vibrating frantically. I checked it, and my blood pressure instantly spiked. Ashley had posted on Ins, and it had quickly become a local trending topic. The photo showed the ruined Christmas dinner. The caption: “Came home for Christmas intending to surprise my mom, but she hated the gifts, flipped the table, and ran away. My heart is so tired, why does my love only bring such pain?” Below it was a string of likes and comments from netizens. “Hugs to the OP! How could a mother be like this! So ungrateful!” “My jaw dropped after seeing the screenshots! This table of food looks so expensive, and she just flipped it? She must have psychological issues!” “My heart goes out to the OP, dealing with this on Christmas. It’s better to leave, this kind of toxic family isn’t worth staying in.” “Is the OP’s mom going through menopause? I suggest she sees a therapist.” Looking at these blatant lies, my hands were trembling with anger. They not only humiliated me at home, but they wanted to ruin my reputation online too. I took a deep breath. Luckily…

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I helped Ethan Cole build his empire from the ground up, but right before our wedding, he confessed he was in love with my half-sister, Chloe. I agreed to break up, but on one condition: he had to help me win over his business rival, Dominic Vance. “Are you insane? You’ve been chasing me for ten years and never got me. Is this your way of getting back at me?” Ethan’s handsome face was etched with disbelief. I retorted defiantly, “Dominic is taller and hotter than you. I stopped loving you ages ago; now I’m crazy about him!” Ethan laughed, calling me delusional. “Everyone knows Dominic Vance is completely out of everyone’s league. No woman has ever managed to get close to him.” “So you have to figure it out! If you help me win him over, I’ll sign away my inheritance rights and hand over our billion-dollar empire to you and Chloe.” I turned away, pretending to be nonchalant, but tears instantly streamed down my face. Of course, I knew the chances of getting Dominic Vance were zero. I just wanted a mutually destructive way to release all this tangled, unspoken love and pain. But to my absolute shock, Dominic Vance took my hand under everyone’s watchful eyes and asked, “What date are we getting married?” ###

“This is my fiancée, Eleanor Hayes. She likes you, Mr. Vance.” “She likes your movie-star looks, your decisive demeanor in business, the mature charm that’s settled in you over the years…” Ethan’s handsome face was pale with fury as he read the love letter I’d written to Dominic. He’d helped me write the letter, and all my fancy jewelry and designer clothes were bought with his platinum card. He skipped a major international meeting and drove me to the city’s most exclusive restaurant, personally arranging a candlelight dinner, all to help me confess my feelings to Dominic. Dominic let out a cold laugh. “Is today April Fool’s Day?” Ethan’s jaw tightened in a visible struggle, as he tried to appear nonchalant. “I’m not kidding. Eleanor really likes you. I’m helping her pursue you.” “You can leave now. Don’t interrupt my time alone with Mr. Vance.” I coldly dismissed Ethan, watching him disappear into the heavy rain. His back was lean and tall, more mature and charismatic than when I first met him ten years ago. Back then, he was fresh out of college, interning at my father’s company during summer break. His blue shirt was faded from washing, his eyes clear and stubborn, and he worked meticulously. I saw his character and talent, promoting him from a poor kid to the youngest vice president. “He says you like me, but your eyes clearly still love him,” Dominic commented softly from beside me. His face was strikingly handsome, his eyes deep and profound. He sat there, like a god veiled by mist. Just then, Ethan looked up at us from downstairs. I immediately, shamelessly, sat on Dominic’s lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and made it look like we were being intimate. “I apologize, Mr. Vance. I had to pretend I wanted to pursue you because it was the only way I could get some alone time with you. My real intention is to discuss a partnership – I’m begging you, please drop Ethan and invest in me.” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but Dominic’s eyes seemed to dim slightly. “You should know, I’m signing a contract next week to invest five billion in Ethan Cole.” Of course, I knew time was critical! So I immediately pulled out the documents I’d brought, passionately introducing the company I had secretly founded. “…I’m collaborating with university Ph.D.s. Our technology is more mature than Ethan’s team’s, and it’s 100% capable of commercial incubation…” Dominic flipped through the documents, a smirk playing on his lips. “Everyone says you’re a ‘love-brain,’ but I never imagined your own company would be so impressive.” I forced a bitter smile. “My father is incredibly sexist. He doesn’t have a son, so he’d rather hand the company over to a male relative—a nephew—than to me. At first, I poured everything into mentoring Ethan, thinking we could run the company as a husband-and-wife team after we got married. But then he fell for Chloe Miller—my father’s illegitimate daughter with his mistress!” Dominic calmly reminded me, “The ‘mistress’ you refer to is now your father’s legal wife, and Chloe is the pampered Hayes heiress, adored by your father. If Ethan marries her, he’ll still get the Hayes Group.” That was what I resented the most! I had poured my heart and soul into Ethan, only for it all to become Chloe’s gain in the end. Years ago, when Chloe and her mother officially moved in and took over, it gave my mother a sudden heart attack and she died. I hated them! Ethan falling for Chloe was the ultimate betrayal! “I want revenge on them, and now only you can help me. Drop Ethan, and invest in me!” My eyes burned with fervent pleading as I looked at Dominic. But his gaze was cold. He gripped my waist and gently moved me from his lap to a nearby chair. “I detest mixing personal feelings with business. Think clearly and then come back to me.” ###

Dominic gracefully departed, and I stumbled out after him, shocked to find Ethan still waiting outside the door. “I saw you throwing yourself at him, Eleanor. I never thought you’d be so shameless!” His eyes seemed to blaze with fire. I sneered, “What? Are you jealous? Waiting so long downstairs just to mock me?” Before he could answer, Chloe’s syrupy voice drifted from the nightclub across the street. “You’re mistaken, Ellie. Ethan was waiting for me, not for you.” She wore a shimmering sequined dress that hugged her curves, a stark contrast to my stiff suit dress. Ethan’s tone with her was utterly doting. “Babe, aren’t you cold?” He took off his coat and draped it over her. She whined coquettishly, “Hmm, not enough. Ethan, warm my hands for me.” Ethan immediately cupped her hands, gently blowing on them to warm them. I used to cry and demand to know why he loved her and not me. His answer was that I was always focused on work, like a grim, hardened man. Only a drama queen like Chloe could make him feel that spark of romance. “I’m totally wasted, Ethan. Take me home now.” Chloe climbed into the passenger seat of the Ferrari. I snapped, “Get out! Ethan drove me here for my date with Dominic, and now he has to take me back. Besides, I bought him this car!” “Let Ethan choose, darling,” Chloe pouted, then leaned closer to me and hissed maliciously, “You pathetic shrew, you lost again. You can spend all the money you want, but you’ll never make Ethan love you. And even if you stripped naked in front of Dominic, you wouldn’t get him.” Sure enough, Ethan chose her again, driving the sports car away with a roar. Just then, a few burly guys burst out of the nightclub, grabbing my hair and demanding money for drinks. “Your sister didn’t pay just now! She told us to find you! Hand over the cash, or else…” They leered, their dirty hands reaching for me. I immediately screamed, “Let go of me! Ethan! Help me!” Ethan hadn’t driven far. I was sure he could see the scene in his rearview mirror, but he didn’t stop. He hesitated for just a second, then sped away. It was just like in our relationship: he unhesitatingly abandoned me, choosing my lifelong enemy, Chloe, leaving me sleepless night after night, crying until my eyes were dry, and laughed at by all my enemies. “Stop screaming. Come play with us, pretty girl…” The club thug’s foul-smelling breath was close to my face, his greasy hand gripping me tight. I finally snapped, pulling out the documents from my bag and using them as weapons, wildly striking at them. The sharp edges of the papers cut their skin. My sudden fury forced them to retreat, step after step. When I turned, I saw Dominic Vance’s Rolls-Royce parked by the street. After confirming I had repelled the thugs, his car started and drove away. He had witnessed everything, yet chose to stand by. A wave of frustration washed over me. I realized I didn’t have the charm to make him like me. But I had to use the pretense of pursuing him to secure an investment. If I could just persuade him to drop Ethan and invest in me instead, I could turn the tables, climbing above Ethan and even my father. Unexpectedly, a video of me fending off the club thugs was filmed and posted online, even trending on social media. #HayesHeiressMeltdown #DumpedFiancéDrama The media gossiped wildly about my history with Ethan, saying I was a rich heiress who supported a poor boy, only for him to get rich and dump me for being a ‘dowdy old hag’… *Slap!* Ethan slammed a stack of newspapers onto the table in front of me. “The headlines and trending topics are all calling me a ‘backstabbing scoundrel’! Eleanor, you knew this was a critical time for me to lead the Hayes Group in fundraising and going public. How could you buy hit pieces to trash my name?” I sneered, “If you don’t want people to know, don’t do it. The media isn’t wrong. I poured my heart and soul into you for ten years. How are you repaying me?” Ethan knew he was in the wrong, but his expression remained cold. “You asked me to help you pursue Dominic, and I agreed. But he doesn’t like you. What more can I do?” “That just means you haven’t tried hard enough! You need to push harder.” I grabbed his tie, manipulating him. “At tomorrow’s spring auction, I want to buy him a gift. Whatever I set my sights on, you’ll get it for me, no matter the cost.” ###

The auction was packed with high-society figures, and Dominic Vance was there too. He was seated regally in the center of a private box on the second floor. Ethan, Chloe, and I sat in the front row, allowing me to clearly see that the first item up for auction was a piece by my mother from thirty years ago. “…Madam Hayes was a renowned jewelry artisan during her lifetime. Her early works are cherished by collectors worldwide. Today, three pairs of her earrings are returning to the market…” I bid frantically, but every time I made an offer, Chloe would raise the price, clearly trying to outdo me. “Help me!” I shot Ethan a look. “You promised me! You said you’d get me whatever I wanted today, no matter the cost!” Ethan met Chloe’s eager gaze and softly refused me. “I agreed to help you bid on a gift to win over Dominic, but would Dominic even care about these earrings? Don’t be silly.” My heart was burning with anxiety. I regretted that all my cash flow was tied up in company operations, leaving me no extra money for bidding. In the end, Chloe successfully acquired all three of my mother’s pieces. “The wings on these butterfly earrings are too big. I don’t like them.” Chloe, with a flick of her wrist, cut the delicate gold filigree, and two gemstones tumbled to the floor. I was stunned. “Are you crazy? How could you ruin perfectly good jewelry?” “I bought them, so I can do whatever I want with them.” Chloe cackled with glee, then broke and cut the other two pieces of jewelry, throwing them to the ground. Whispers and snickers broke out around us. “Chloe’s just trying to get a rise out of her.” “Exactly. Eleanor’s mother clung to her status as the legal wife back then, making Chloe an illegitimate child for years, and her mother a publicly scorned mistress.” “But now Chloe has really made a name for herself. Everyone knows she’s Richard Hayes’s favorite daughter. They say Ethan loves her, and once he marries her, Eleanor will surely be kicked out of the Hayes Group.” “Eleanor is truly useless. No money to participate in the auction, so she can only watch her own mother’s jewelry be destroyed…” My heart bled in that moment, watching the jewelry my mother had painstakingly crafted, day and night, being desecrated into garbage. The auctioneer on stage presented the next item: “A Breguet Tourbillon timepiece from the early 19th century, starting bid one million…” Dominic Vance on the second floor was the first to bid, immediately raising the price to three million. It seemed he liked this watch. I instantly joined the bidding, going back and forth with him, pushing the price to twenty million. Ethan’s face beside me turned dark. Chloe, unaware of the situation, scoffed at me, “Don’t pretend to be rich, you can’t afford it!” As Dominic bid a high price of thirty million, I directly shouted, “Whatever it takes!” The entire hall gasped, shocked that I had the money to snatch something coveted by the billionaire Dominic Vance. My next sentence pushed the atmosphere to a climax once more. “I’m paying with Ethan Cole’s card, and I’m giving this watch to Dominic Vance.” Everyone’s jaws dropped as they watched me use Ethan’s platinum card, instructing the staff to deliver the timepiece to Dominic Vance’s box on the second floor, accompanied by a bouquet of red roses, a symbol of affection. Within half a day, the news of me spending Ethan Cole’s money to pursue Dominic Vance swept through the entire high society circle. That evening, I was dressed to the nines. As I walked into the dazzling garage, Ethan rushed up to block me. “Do you know what people are calling me now? They’re calling me a humiliated cuckold! Spending money to help my fiancée get another man!” I gave him a sidelong glance. “Better than being called a backstabbing scoundrel, isn’t it? I’m actively taking the blame for the relationship, letting people think I’m the one cheating. Shouldn’t you be on your knees thanking me?” Ethan gnashed his teeth, forcing out a cold laugh. “You spent my money. Did *he* like it?” The “he” he referred to, of course, was Dominic Vance. I lit up my phone screen, shaking it twice in front of him. “See that? Dominic sent me a message ten minutes ago: ‘Eight PM tonight, Grand Zenith Hotel, Room 8808.’” Ethan’s face instantly turned ashen. I swaggered, patting his face. “What are you gawking at? Hurry up and drive me to my date with Dominic!” ###

I believed Dominic Vance had been impressed by my sincerity. For this, I had prepared even more detailed business plans, determined to persuade him to invest in my company tonight. Ethan, driving beside me, frequently glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then suddenly spoke. “Why the Grand Zenith Hotel, of all places?” I paused for a moment, then remembered. The Grand Zenith Hotel was where I had booked our wedding a year ago. The wedding date was next Thursday; even the invitations had been sent out. I had bought wedding favors worth hundreds of thousands and spent millions decorating the venue. Now, the groom was driving me there for a date with another man. I sneered, “Do you even care? The beach under that old bridge is where we first fell in love. Five years ago, I almost drowned saving two children. Even the paramedics said I was gone, but you wouldn’t give up. You desperately gave me CPR and artificial respiration, and I actually came back to life. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw the tears on your face, and I swore then and there that I would love you forever…” Back then, Ethan and I truly were life-and-death companions. As I spoke, I felt a sense of weariness. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You’ve probably forgotten all about it anyway. I bet even the rocks we lay on have been swallowed by the sea.” Ethan, who had been silent, suddenly slammed the accelerator, turning the sports car around and heading for the highway exit. I gasped. “Are you crazy? I’m going to be late! Take me to the hotel!” His dark eyes held a stubborn glint. “Weren’t you just talking about reliving the past by the sea? If you didn’t want to, why bring it up?” The car radio was broadcasting a hurricane warning, advising residents to stay indoors. I screamed that Ethan was insane, rushing to the beach in a hurricane to die. He sped to the beach and forcefully dragged me out of the car, searching for the rocks that had witnessed our bond in life and death. Heavy black clouds pressed down on the sea, giant waves roared, and a severe storm warning had been issued. “Yes! I’m crazy! Why are you provoking me in such a twisted way? When you asked me to help you pursue Dominic, I wanted to kill him!” he yelled at me. I scoffed. “Don’t pretend! You only agreed to help me pursue Dominic because I promised to sign the agreement giving up my inheritance of the Hayes family assets. You dream of seeing me out of the Hayes family, so that after my father dies, you and Chloe can have the entire Hayes fortune to yourselves…” “I didn’t!” Ethan’s eyes were wide with desperation. He tightly cupped my cheeks, his breath close to mine, full of a mix of longing and suppression. “You just don’t understand me, actually, I… I…” “Actually what?” I felt a strange tension. Just then, his phone rang. “My Darling Chloe” flashed on the screen. Ethan didn’t hesitate for long before answering. The unspoken atmosphere between us instantly vanished. I knew it. Everything that followed was just as I expected. Chloe said she was scared of the thunder and needed Ethan to come to her immediately. “No way. Your job right now is to take me to meet Dominic,” I reminded him. Chloe heard my voice and started crying even harder. “I’m so scared. Oh, no, I accidentally fell, and my leg might be broken. Ethan, please take me to the hospital, okay…” Her acting was awful, yet Ethan actually believed her. He immediately decided to drive to her house. “What about me? Dominic is waiting for me. How am I supposed to get a ride in this weather?” I angrily demanded. Ethan looked me directly in the eyes, stating seriously, “I’m tired of playing this game with you, Eleanor. You’ll never get Dominic Vance. The women who’ve chased him over the years were A-list celebrities, beauty queens, even daughters of powerful politicians or foreign nobility… Eleanor, you don’t stand a chance. Besides, isn’t your ultimate goal just to make me angry? Well, you’ve achieved your goal. Give up. There’s no way I’m letting you see Dominic today.” He gave me one last deep look, then truly abandoned me, driving off to rescue “broken-legged” Chloe. The hurricane was closing in, chilling my thin clothes to the bone. My entire heart felt cold and desolate. From then on, my feelings for Ethan Cole were nothing but hatred. The wind howled in my ears. Staying here would be life-threatening, but I couldn’t even stand steady; I could barely move an inch against the wind. In despair, I saw a helicopter flying towards me against the wind, like a small boat battling the waves, perilous yet determined. The person inside opened the cabin door and extended a hand to me. The strong wind ruffled his hair, revealing his handsome, refined face. It was Dominic Vance. He said, “I agree. Now, come with me.”

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