My boyfriend lost a game of Truth or Dare. The penalty? He had to kiss another woman. Before our lips could even meet, his childhood best friend, Lindsey, shoved me aside and pressed her lips against his. “Stop acting out. It’s your future sister-in-law’s birthday,” Jason said, his voice dripping with affection as he pinched her cheek. The room went silent as everyone watched me sprawled on the sofa. Lindsey giggled, “Don’t be mad, Chloe. Jason’s never even seen me as a girl.” Jason turned to me, his tone dismissive: “It’s just a game. Don’t be such a sore loser.” Everyone expected me to scream, to throw a fit, to cry. Instead, I simply slid the engagement ring off my finger and tucked it onto his best friend’s hand. “Save me a seat at the wedding,” I said. 1 “Jason, you’re so sweet! What have you been eating?” Lindsey’s high-pitched voice echoed through the private lounge. Jason was looking at her with an indulgent smile, but as the room fell deathly quiet, he finally noticed me on the floor. He let go of Lindsey’s face and patted the back of her head. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s Chloe’s birthday.” Lindsey pouted. “Ugh… Chloe isn’t going to be a sore loser, is she? It was just a Dare~” The silence in the room was deafening. This wasn’t a harmless prank like a flick on the forehead. It was a kiss. People were literally shrinking into their seats, waiting for the explosion. They knew me. They knew I usually fought for every inch of his attention. But I just stood up, slowly twisted the engagement ring off my finger, and walked over to Lindsey. I gently slid it onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly. I smiled. “Save me a seat at the wedding.” The room gasped. Even Lindsey looked stunned. “Chloe, it’s just a game. Is this really necessary?” Jason’s voice was cold. “I know it is,” I chirped. “I’m just helping you guys have a better time.” Jason’s face darkened visibly. Lindsey pulled on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Jay. It’s my fault. I didn’t realize Chloe couldn’t handle a joke.” She pulled the ring off and tossed it at me. “Here. Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean anything by it.” The ring hit me square in the face before clattering onto the floor. I didn’t flinch. I just picked it up. “If you don’t want it, I guess it’s useless.” I tossed it into the trash can. “Chloe, are you insane?! That’s your engagement ring!” “Quick, get it out!” “Where did it go? There’s too much junk in here!” Our friends started frantically digging through the trash, but the bin was a mess of cocktail garnishes, discarded napkins, and half-eaten appetizers. The small band was gone. Lindsey panicked, grabbing Jason’s arm, her eyes welling up. “Jason, what’s happening? Why is she acting like this? Was I really that bad? But we’ve always been like this since we were kids…” Jason immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her. “Stop looking!” Everyone froze. He glared at me, his eyes sharp enough to cut. “If you can’t handle the game, why did you play? Now everyone’s miserable because of you. Are you happy now?” The irony felt like a physical weight in my chest. Lindsey kissed my fiancé, I stepped aside to let them be together, and somehow, I was the one ruining the night? In the past, I would have sobbed and screamed about how Lindsey was the problem. But now? I felt nothing. I grabbed my coat. “Then I’ll head out. Enjoy the rest of the night.” 2 As the door swung shut, I heard a hesitant voice inside: “Um… it is Chloe’s birthday. Maybe we shouldn’t let her leave like that?” Jason’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “Forget her. She needs to grow up and lose the attitude. Anyway, Lindsey just got her adjunct professor position. Lindsey, why don’t you blow out the candles?” The party roared back to life. The voices that were supposed to sing “Happy Birthday” were now shouting: “Congrats on the new job, Linds!” My face felt cold. I wiped my cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying. But I wasn’t sad. My heart felt hollow, like a room that had finally been emptied of furniture. 3 Growing up in a faculty housing complex, I had always worshipped Jason. He was the golden boy, the genius. I was the quiet one, the girl who watched from the window as Jason and Lindsey chased each other around the yard. I studied until my eyes bled just to see my name next to his on the dean’s list. But I wasn’t bubbly like Lindsey. Between us, there was always a polite, icy distance. It wasn’t until college, when Lindsey went to a different state for a mid-tier school and got a boyfriend, that I finally gathered the courage to ask him out. Fate was kind. He said yes. From that moment on, every decision I made revolved around him. When he stayed at the university to teach, I turned down a prestigious fellowship abroad. My advisor begged me to go, citing alumni who were making six figures or leading major research labs. I just blushed and told her: “I just want a quiet life with him.” I gave him everything, and he never gave me a second thought. Standing in the biting wind, I exhaled a long breath and called my old advisor. “Professor? About that project in Ireland… is the spot still open?” There was a pause. “Chloe? You’ve changed your mind?” “Yes.” “Of course it’s open! I’ve been holding off on the other applicants hoping you’d call. When can you start?” I smiled. “Give me two weeks. I need to get my affairs in order here.” 4 I spent the next few hours diving into the project details. By the time I finished the call, it was nearly 2:00 AM. My head was pounding. I ran a bath and let the hot water soak the tension out of my bones. I drifted off to sleep in the tub, lulled by the steam. I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming. “Chloe?” It was Jason. His voice moved through the rooms, growing more agitated. When he finally shoved the bathroom door open, his eyes narrowed. “Chloe.” He looked annoyed. I didn’t know what he was mad about. Was he mad that I wasn’t waiting on the couch to start the usual fight about Lindsey? “You’re home,” I said, my voice steady. “Sorry, I fell asleep. Didn’t hear you.” I looked at him. “Could you step out, please?” My tone was polite but distant. He frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted. “I stayed late because Lindsey was drunk. Her ex wouldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t just leave a girl like that…” “I get it. Safety first.” He blinked. He wasn’t expecting that. I gave him a small, tight smile. “You… aren’t mad?” I actually laughed. “Why would I be mad? You’ve been best friends forever. Helping her home is the right thing to do. Especially since she lives alone.” For a second, Jason looked like he didn’t recognize me. He didn’t move, so I just stood up and grabbed a towel. We lived together; it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me before, but I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I wrapped myself up and tried to walk past him. He grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, just say what you want to say.” “What am I supposed to say?” He hesitated. “You… usually have a lot to say.” I thought about it. In the past, every time Lindsey was involved, I was the one who wouldn’t let it go. I was the one who “lost it.” But I realized now—you only go crazy when you’re still in love. I felt nothing. I gently pried his hand off my wrist. “It’s late, Jason. I have lab work tomorrow. Let’s not do this.” His hand stayed frozen in mid-air. I yawned. “Don’t stay up too late. Goodnight.” I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. A moment later, I heard a thunderous BANG. Jason had slammed the door and left. I knew why. He had finally offered me a “truce,” and I hadn’t bothered to take it. 5 I slept perfectly. The next morning, I was ordering DoorDash when I saw a birthday cake on the table. Jason was sitting behind it. “Belated happy birthday, Chloe.” I paused, my finger hovering over the “Pay” button. “I know last night was bad. The ring is gone for good,” he said, his long fingers sliding his phone toward me. “That style didn’t really suit you anyway. Pick a new one. Lindsey is just a kid at heart; don’t take her seriously. To us, a kiss means something, but to her, she’s just carefree…” “Wait, you actually got me a custom cake? Thanks!” My sudden interruption cut him off. He stared at me, bewildered. “Chloe?” I leaned over to read the frosting: Happy 18th to my babe. “So sweet. I love it!” He frowned. “Chloe…” I started grabbing plates and forks. “What?” He looked down. “Never mind.” I took a bite. “This place has the best frosting in the city. They’re usually booked out. You really put effort into this.” He gave a non-committal grunt, looking lost in thought. “Chloe, about the ring—” “Here, have the biggest piece! You can’t let it go to waste.” I slid a massive slice in front of him. I took a small bite of my own. “Is this a new flavor? It’s good.” “Chloe.” His brow furrowed. “Look at the phone.” I glanced down. It was a website for Tiffany & Co. Specifically, their high-end engagement collection. My hand trembled for a fraction of a second. A week ago, this would have made my year. Now, I just focused on the cake. “No thanks. It’s just a brand name. Too much trouble.” “Chloe?” He looked at me like I was an alien. I smiled. “Really. I’m over that stuff. Don’t waste the money. The cake is plenty.” I put my empty plate down. “I have an early meeting. Make sure the dishes get in the dishwasher.” I went into the bedroom to change. SCREECH. The sound of his chair pulling back. Jason shoved his phone into his pocket. “Fine. I’ll get it for Lindsey. She actually appreciates this stuff.” He slammed the door. He didn’t touch the cake. I didn’t see him at the university for the next few days.

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My sister, Chloe, was obsessed—no, “obsessed” doesn’t cover it. She was a cultist for a celebrity named Austin Vance. On Valentine’s Day, news broke that Austin had frozen his genetic samples for future use. While other fans bought posters, Chloe decided to drain her entire life savings to buy a sample on the black market. She wanted to undergo IVF to birth a “mini-Austin.” I was horrified. I begged her to consider her boyfriend’s feelings and just live a normal life. Eventually, she gave up, got married, and had a daughter, Maya. But the poison remained. Chloe pushed her dreams of fame onto Maya. Every time Maya looked in the mirror, Chloe would sneer: “You want to be a star? With that face? Look at yourself.” She told Maya it was my fault. If I hadn’t stopped her back then, Maya would have had “god-tier” genes and been a superstar. Maya grew to hate me with a passion that burned for years. After failing a reality show audition where the judges mocked her looks, she finally snapped. She burst into my house and drove a knife through my chest. “Mind your own business!” she screamed. “You ruined my life!” Chloe just watched from the doorway, her arms crossed, eyes cold. After I died, she took my inheritance and used it to travel the world following her idols. Then, I woke up. It was Valentine’s Day. 1 “It’s my life! I’m not asking for your permission, I’m telling you how it’s going to be!” Chloe was screaming in the living room, her voice echoing off the walls as she yelled at our mother. She threw herself onto the sofa in a fit of rage. As soon as she saw me walk in, she lunged at me. “Leo, tell Mom she’s being insane. You saw the news about Austin Vance freezing his samples. Everyone is talking about it!” “I’m going to buy a sample and have his baby. Mom is acting like it’s the end of the world!” “She has no idea how much money celebrities make! If I have his kid, that baby will have the ‘It Factor’ in their DNA. They’ll be a millionaire before they’re ten!” “It’s only a few hundred thousand dollars. We’d make it back in a year! But Mom won’t let me!” “It’s not about the money!” Mom shouted, her voice trembling with fury. “Who is going to marry you? Who is going to want a life with you after you do something so reckless?!” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t care! Once I raise a superstar, men will be lining up around the block to marry me!” Watching Chloe “fight for her rights,” I felt a wave of dizziness. My fists clenched so hard my nails drew blood. Thank God. Thank the universe. I’m back. I’m back at the exact moment where the tragedy began. 2 Chloe didn’t just like music; she worshiped it. She would skip meals and sleep just to stream Austin Vance’s songs. Once, she skipped a final exam and waited in line for eighteen hours in the rain just for a concert ticket. Her room was a shrine. Posters covered every inch of the walls. She spent hours dusting them, whispering to them, even kissing the glossy paper. It was pathological. Mom was at her wit’s end and constantly begged me to talk sense into her. We were close in age, and while I liked music too, I couldn’t fathom this level of mindless zealotry. I tried heart-to-hearts. I told her it was okay to be a fan, but not at the expense of her life. She’d just plug her ears. One time, a poster fell down because the tape dried out; she blamed me, accused me of trying to “tear him down,” and didn’t speak to me for a week. I eventually gave up, hoping she’d outgrow it. But even after graduation, the fire didn’t die. She ditched work to follow his tour bus. She was a lost cause. The day Austin Vance announced the freezing of his samples, she crossed the point of no return. She came home demanding Mom give her the family’s emergency fund for the procedure. In my past life, I lost my cool. I slapped her. I called her a damn fool. I asked her: Who is going to raise someone else’s kid? How are you going to support yourself? Do you really think talent is just a gene you can buy like a luxury handbag? My threats, combined with Mom’s ultimatum to disown her, worked. She backed down. She eventually married a guy named Mark and had Maya. But even then, the obsession lingered. It bled into Maya. Maya grew up dreaming of the red carpet, convinced she was destined for greatness. And every time she failed, Chloe would point at her and laugh: “You’re a star? Look at your face. If your Uncle Leo hadn’t stopped me from getting Austin’s DNA, you’d be famous by now.” So, Maya grew up hating me. As her uncle, I bought her the best birthday gifts, only to have them thrown in the trash. I tried to stay away, but I stayed for Mark. Mark was a good man—honest, hardworking, and far too good for a family of obsessed fans. Ten years later, Mom passed away. Chloe and Maya didn’t even show up for the funeral; they were at a fan convention in Vegas. Three days after the funeral, Maya failed a major idol audition. The judges told her she lacked the “visuals” for the industry. She came to my house and stabbed me twelve times. Chloe leaned against the doorframe as I bled out. “You ruined her future, Leo. She was supposed to be a star.” I died with my eyes wide open, filled with a resentment that reached the heavens. I regretted ever helping her. I should have let her drown in her own choices. 3 “You’re going to be the death of me! If you go through with this ‘designer baby’ nonsense, don’t you dare come back to this house!” Mom issued the same ultimatum as before. This time, Chloe actually had a shred of conscience left; she burst into tears. She looked at me, eyes red and puffy. “Leo, will you support me? Please?” I looked at her with a face of stone. “It’s your life. Walk your own path.” In this life, I’m done being your guardian. Chloe saw that neither of us was budging. She gritted her teeth, gave Mom a stiff bow, and walked out the door. Mom nearly fainted. I went over to steady her. “She’s an adult, Mom. Let her hit the wall. She won’t learn until she feels the pain herself.” Mom sighed, a long, weary sound. For the next few days, Chloe vanished. She hired a moving crew to clear out every single one of her belongings—even the posters she had carefully peeled off the walls. I knew Austin Vance’s “legacy” wasn’t cheap. She was likely selling everything she owned on eBay to fund her delusion. But she had no real savings. Those posters wouldn’t cover a fraction of the cost. I turned to Mom. “Whatever you do, don’t give her a dime of the family savings.” “I’d burn the money before I gave her a cent!” Mom snapped. 4 “Leo, please… I need a loan.” Chloe called a few days later. I told her I was broke. “Leo, please! I know you care about me. I can’t afford to eat. It’s not for the procedure, I swear.” In my last life, she used this trick a dozen times. She’d spend her grocery money on VIP tickets and then cry about being hungry. I always sent her money, afraid she’d actually starve. “I don’t have it. Don’t ask again.” I hung up. A few days later, I went to check on Mom. I could hear the screaming from the hallway. “Where is it? Did you take the money from the safe?!” I opened the door to find Mom red-faced, screaming into her phone. “You’ve gone too far! Stealing from your own mother? That was fifteen thousand dollars! Bring it back right now, do you hear me?!” “I’m just borrowing it!” Chloe’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I’ll pay you back when the kid is famous!” “Chloe, are you insane?! You’re taking our life savings for a test tube? Chloe!” Click. The line went dead. Mom clutched her chest, her face turning a terrifying shade of purple, and collapsed on the floor. 5 She survived the initial stroke, but the brain hemorrhage was massive. The medical bills started piling up instantly. I was frantic. It was a nightmare—my mother was in the ICU, and I had no money left after paying the initial deposit. I called Chloe, my teeth bitting. “Mom had a stroke because of you. She’s in the hospital. Bring the money back now.” “A stroke? Is she okay? How bad is it?” Chloe sounded nervous. “She’s hanging by a thread. If we don’t pay the next five thousand, she’s dead. Bring the money, Chloe!” “Leo… are you lying to me?” The audacity of her words made me see red. “You piece of trash! Why would I lie about our mother dying?!” “I don’t have that much left. I can give you one thousand. That’s it.” “What? Say that again.” “I have my own expenses, Leo! This procedure is expensive. One thousand is my limit.” “Chloe, have you lost your mind? This is for Mom! It’s her money!” “I told you, I’ll pay her back a hundred times over later!” “What good is a hundred times later if she’s dead now?!” “Just… tell her I’m sorry.” Click. She hung up and blocked me. I wanted to kill her. In my last life, she didn’t show up for the funeral. Now, she wouldn’t even pay to save Mom’s life. A celebrity she’d never met was more important than the woman who gave her life. Fine. You want to play it this way? 6 I called the police and reported a grand larceny. The cops tracked her down within hours and brought her to the hospital. She wouldn’t even enter the room. She stood in the hallway, glaring at me. “You called the cops on me? She’s my mother! Half that money is legally mine anyway!” I slapped her across the face. “Shut up.” I dragged her into the ICU and pointed at the woman covered in tubes. “Tell her. Tell her to her face that her life-saving money belongs to you.” Chloe froze. For a moment, she looked like she might cry. But then, she looked up and said the words that made my blood run cold: “Everyone dies eventually, Leo. Even if she wakes up, she’ll be a vegetable. I have a future to build. My child is going to be a star. I’ll buy her a beautiful headstone when the time comes.” I grabbed her collar. “What did you just say?! How can you be so inhuman?!” The police had to pull us apart. I told them everything. I demanded she return the money. Even the officers were disgusted. They tried to talk sense into her, but Chloe snapped back: “This is a family matter! Stay out of it!” Since she refused to cooperate, the police were about to take her into custody. Chloe finally folded, promising to get the money and bring it back the next morning. The cops told her to listen to her family. After she left, I thanked them. I thought Mom was saved. But the next morning, Chloe was gone. She had vanished. I panicked and called the police, but they were still searching. I had a sickening feeling the money was gone for good. I spent the day frantically calling friends to borrow enough for the treatment. I managed to scrape the money together, but as I was driving to the hospital, the doctor called. Mom was gone.

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Before I died, my parents cursed me every day. My mother blamed me for stalling her career. “If I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant with you, I would have been Chief of Surgery years ago.” My father blamed me for his business failures. “Ever since the day you were born, every investment I touch turns to ash. You are a jinx.” They only loved my older sister, Sarah. They said she was just like them—studious, quiet, and refined. I, on the other hand, was like an unevolved primate in their eyes—always running wild, getting into fights, and embarrassing the family. “What a waste of space,” they would often sigh. “If we had just aborted her, this family would be perfect.” Eventually, they got their wish. I died. 1 It was 3:00 AM. I had exhausted every ounce of my strength, but I finally secured the encryption key needed to take down the cartel. But the price was my cover. My identity as a bartender at the club was blown. Fortunately, I managed to transmit the data just in time. Before my SWAT team could breach the building, the cartel enforcers inflicted every torture imaginable on me. They sawed off my limbs. They flayed my skin strip by strip, keeping me just on the edge of consciousness so I would feel everything. I ground my teeth together to keep from screaming until they shattered in my mouth. Finally, the sirens wailed. When the team secured the room, my Captain—a stoic giant of a man—rushed in. He scooped up what was left of my torso and wept openly. “Chloe, I’m sorry. We were too late.” “Don’t sleep, Chloe. Hold on. The medics can fix this,” he begged, his voice breaking. I forced my bloodied eyes open. “Cap…” I whispered. “Donate my body. Anything that’s left… give it to someone who needs it.” “And… don’t tell my parents I died.” With those words, I managed a smile. I closed my eyes, satisfied. I was rushed to the downtown Trauma Center. But the moment the gurney hit the hospital doors, my heart stopped for good. Following my dying wish, the hospital immediately prepped for organ harvesting. My corneas were removed to be transplanted into a patient who had been on the waiting list for months. Without them, she would be permanently blind. The patient was my sister, Sarah. The lead surgeon was my mother. She stood over my body with her team, bowing her head in a moment of silence for the donor. Then, she coolly pulled back the sterile sheet to inspect the donor. Even though she was a veteran doctor who had seen countless traumas, she gasped when she saw what was left of me. “She was only twenty-four,” she whispered behind her mask. “So young.” “This poor girl went through hell. If her parents saw her like this, it would kill them.” I floated above the operating table, watching her. I wanted to ask, “Mom, if you knew this was me—your own daughter—would you still feel sorry?” But I was dead. I couldn’t ask. 2 The surgery was a success. My parents and Sarah were beaming with joy. “I heard the donor was about Sarah’s age,” Dad said. “What a noble kid.” Mom nodded. “Yes. Brought in by the police. Likely a line-of-duty death.” “A tragedy. But her parents must be so proud.” “I wish we knew who she was,” they sighed. “We’d visit her grave to say thank you.” Then, Mom’s face darkened. “That Chloe… she has no heart. Today was Sarah’s big surgery, and she didn’t even bother to show up.” “She’s probably too busy with that shady job of hers. She didn’t even call.” Dad sneered. “Ideally, we’d never hear from that embarrassment again.” Sarah scoffed from her bed. “Who needs her? I hope she stays away forever.” Just then, their phones buzzed. “Dr. Miller? The board has voted. You are the new Chief of Surgery.” It was the Hospital Administrator. It was the promotion Mom had chased for years. Then Dad’s phone rang. “Sir, the city contract just came through. The company is saved.” They hugged Sarah, ecstatic. “Sarah, you are our lucky charm! The moment your surgery succeeded, everything turned around!” The small VIP room was filled with laughter and celebration. Meanwhile, in a quiet room at the precinct, there was only the sound of stifled sobbing. My Captain and my squad were holding a secret memorial for me. Because the cartel still had active members, they couldn’t risk exposing my family by making my death public. The Captain held my urn, his shoulders shaking. “My girl… my brave girl…” He had recruited me. He was more of a father to me than my biological one. The Police Chief patted his shoulder. “She saved this city. We will make sure her family is taken care of.” 3 “Has anyone heard from Chloe? She hasn’t called in days. She isn’t answering.” That evening, Grandma asked the moment my parents walked in the door. She sat in her wheelchair, looking worried. My parents’ smiles vanished instantly. “Why do you always bring up that loser?” Dad snapped. Grandma went silent and turned her wheelchair toward her room. I followed her spirit, trying to push the chair, but my hands passed through it. “Meow!” A large black shadow pounced at me. It was Midnight, the stray cat I had rescued. I tried to catch him, but he fell through my arms and hit the floor. He got up, confused, and rubbed against my invisible legs, purring. Grandma watched him with tears in her eyes. “Do you miss Chloe too, Midnight?” “That silly girl… tomorrow is her birthday. I bet she forgot.” Grandma pulled a pair of red socks and a red envelope from her drawer. She was superstitious about birthdays—she believed wearing red brought protection. I had forgotten. Tomorrow was my twenty-fourth birthday. Only Grandma remembered. In the living room, my parents were chatting. “Sarah can finally see. We need to throw a huge party once she recovers.” Mom smiled, then frowned. “Is tomorrow a special date? I feel like I’m forgetting something.” Dad shrugged. “Nothing special. You’re just tired.” “Go to sleep. Sarah is healed, you’re the Chief, the business is booming. Our life is finally perfect.” Suddenly, a crash came from Grandma’s room. Midnight was going crazy, tearing the red socks to shreds. “Midnight! Stop! Those are for Chloe!” Grandma screamed. My parents rushed in. 4 Seeing the mess, Dad exploded. “That damn cat! I told you to get rid of it! It’s nothing but trouble, just like Chloe!” He kicked at Midnight, who hissed and scrambled under the bed. Mom looked at the ruined socks with disdain. “Mom, I buy you expensive clothes. Why are you hoarding these cheap red socks? Do you want people to think I abuse you?” Grandma clutched the tattered socks. “These weren’t for me. They were for Chloe’s birthday.” “Red brings good luck. She needs protection.” My parents froze. “Her birthday? When is that?” Grandma’s grief turned to rage. “You gave birth to her! How do you not know her birthday? What kind of parents are you?” Dad stiffened. “My business tanked the day she was born. Why should I celebrate that?” Mom added, “If I hadn’t been pregnant with her, I would have been Chief ten years ago.” “That was your choice!” Grandma yelled. “Did Chloe ask to be born?” Dad looked at Grandma’s wheelchair coldly. “Are you going senile, Mom? Why do you defend that jinx? If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t be paralyzed.” Grandma broke down sobbing. “It wasn’t Chloe who paralyzed me! It was your precious Sarah!” My parents were stunned. Years ago, on a freezing winter night, seven-year-old Sarah threw a tantrum because she wanted ice cream. My parents weren’t home. Sarah threatened to run away if she didn’t get it. Grandma went out to buy it to keep her safe. On the way back, she was mugged and beaten by a junkie. She never walked again.

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I was the billionaire’s “one that got away,” the girl he supposedly never stopped loving. But as I lay dying in a foreign hospital, desperate to fly home for a life-saving surgery, my own brother did everything in his power to stop me. He was convinced that if I returned, the billionaire would dump his current fiancée—my brother’s precious step-sister. My brother was the ultimate simp for the “replacement.” “If you’re sick, suck it up. It’s not an emergency,” he told me cold-heartedly. “Just wait a few days for the surgery. You won’t die. They’re getting married this weekend, and I won’t let you ruin it.” To survive, I swallowed my pride and called the billionaire myself. “I heard I’m the love of your life. Can you bring me home?” I didn’t know he was standing at the altar when his phone rang. He left his bride and the guests stunned, boarded a private jet, and flew through the night just to get to me. 1 The hospital room was sterile and white. Other patients had families hovering over them with flowers and soup, but I lay alone, hooked up to machines that beeped in a lonely rhythm. My brother, Ethan’s voice was icy through the phone speaker. “Funny how you get ‘deathly ill’ right when Chloe and Julian are about to tie the knot.” “You really haven’t changed, Ava. You’re a pathological liar. Did you think I’d actually buy this?” “Let me be clear: stop the drama. Threatening suicide or faking an illness won’t work on me anymore. Even if you are dying, hold it in. Wait until the wedding is over.” I lay there, weak and trembling, tears streaming down my face. My heart felt like it was encased in ice. “Ethan, I’m not acting. Please… just let me come home.” “The doctors here said Dr. Foster at Hopkins is the only one with enough experience for this surgery. He’s the only chance I have.” “I can’t wait anymore. Ask my doctor. He’s right here.” I hit the speaker button, begging my attending physician to back me up. The doctor explained in urgent, professional English that I wasn’t lying. I was critical. I needed to be transferred immediately. Ethan didn’t flinch. “A few days won’t kill her. The wedding is in two days. She can wait.” My doctor lost his cool. He grabbed the phone. “What kind of brother are you? She is dying! If she waits any longer, she’ll miss the surgical window. Even Dr. Foster won’t be able to save her then. Don’t come crying when she’s dead!” Ethan laughed, a cold, cruel sound. “I won’t regret anything. You doctors should be ashamed, playing along with her little skits. If missing a flight by two days kills her, then so be it. If she’s going to cause this much trouble, maybe she shouldn’t come back at all.” I clutched the fabric over my chest, the pain unbearable. He really didn’t believe me. “Ethan, what will it take? Will you only believe me when you’re picking up my ashes at the airport?” My voice was raspy, broken. For a second, there was silence on the other end. Maybe he felt a pang of guilt. Then, my father’s voice cut in. “Is that Ava? What’s her problem now?” “She says she’s dying and needs surgery in the States.” My dad scoffed. “Since when is American healthcare better than what she can get in Switzerland? She just wants to wreck Chloe’s wedding. She couldn’t even come up with a better lie.” “Ethan, Chloe might be your step-sister, but she’s still family. You can’t play favorites. We can’t have any drama right now. You know how much chaos it would cause if Julian’s ‘first love’ showed up.” Ethan’s hesitation vanished. “I know, Dad. Forget it. Let her throw her tantrum.” Click. The line went dead. The busy signal felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. The brother who used to carry me on his shoulders, who promised to protect me from the world… he was gone. He was nothing more than Chloe’s lapdog now. He was still the protective big brother, just not for me. Did I really have to die for them to care? But what was the point? I didn’t want to be the tragic heroine in a sob story. I didn’t want their cheap tears at my funeral. I wanted to live. 2 Over the next few days, I contacted every specialist in Europe. I sent them my scans. They all shook their heads. “It’s too complex. Dr. Foster in Baltimore is the authority on this. He’s the only one who has successfully performed this procedure.” “He’s the best hands in the world for this.” I emailed Dr. Foster, begging him to fly to me. He replied quickly: [I’m sorry, due to a pending legal matter, I cannot leave the country. Your condition is critical. You need to come to Hopkins immediately. I can clear my schedule for you.] But I couldn’t leave. My passport was “held for safekeeping” by my security team—guards hired by my father, but loyal to Chloe. I heard Ethan call them to check on me. “Is she really sick?” The guard, standing outside my door, lied through his teeth. “No, sir. She’s fine.” My doctor was frantic. “Ava, you have to go. I’ve coordinated with Dr. Foster. An ambulance will be waiting on the tarmac.” I closed my eyes, tears leaking out. “Do you think I don’t want to go?” Desperate, the doctor suggested a Hail Mary. “Call Julian Blackwood. Everyone says you’re the one that got away, right? If the billionaire ex wants you back, he can get you back. You’re just crossing an ocean, not flying to Mars.” But Julian didn’t love me. I was the one who chased him for years. The whole “white moonlight” narrative—the idea that I was his pure, untouchable first love—was a rumor I couldn’t squash. “If he really wanted me,” I whispered, “he wouldn’t be marrying a copy of me.” The doctor snatched my phone. “We’re calling him. What’s the number?” I rattled it off, but my heart was hollow. I didn’t expect a miracle. 3 “Hello, is this Julian Blackwood? I’m calling about Ava. She’s your… well, she’s supposed to be important to you. Her family is blocking her from returning to the US because they think you’ll dump your fiancée for her.” Julian’s laugh was cold. “She thinks highly of herself. As far as I’m concerned, she died the day she left the country.” I choked back a sob. His words were a physical blow. I shook my head at the doctor. “Hang up. I don’t want to be humiliated anymore.” But the doctor was furious. He yelled into the phone. “What if she’s actually dying?” Julian paused. “What do you mean?” “Literally dying. She has a rare condition. No one here will touch it. She needs Dr. Foster in Baltimore or she’s dead. Her brother won’t let her fly. If you don’t care about her, fine, but tell her brother that so she can come home and not die alone in a foreign country!” Suddenly, Chloe’s voice drifted through the phone, sweet and cloying. “Julian, who are you talking to? The priest is waiting. He asked if you take me to be your wife.” “Everyone is watching, babe. Can the call wait until after the ceremony?” I froze. The Wedding March was playing in the background. Of course. That’s why Ethan said to wait a few days. They were at the altar right now. Me calling him now… it looked exactly like I was trying to crash the wedding. The priest spoke up again. “Julian Blackwood, do you take Chloe to be your lawfully wedded wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?” I snatched the phone back and hit end. I didn’t want to hear him say “I do.” 4 That night, my fever spiked. I drifted in and out of nightmares. In my dreams, my family was whole again. Dad loved me. Ethan protected me. But then Chloe and her mother arrived. After my mom died, Dad swore he’d never remarry. But then he met her. A woman who looked exactly like my mother did twenty years ago. And Chloe… she looked more like my mother than I did. Dad fell for the “replacement” hard. Even Ethan said, “Just pretend she’s Mom. Pretend Chloe is another sister.” No! How could I? That woman wore my mother’s face and slept in my mother’s bed. She wore the wedding ring my dad gave my mom. I screamed, I cried, I tried to kick them out. And for that, I became the villain. The brat. My phone ringing jerked me awake. It was Ethan. Maybe Julian said “I do” and now I was allowed to come home? I answered, weak but hopeful. Ethan was screaming. “Are you happy now, you toxic witch? Did you have to push Chloe this far?” “You have me and Dad! What does Chloe have?” “She’s insecure! She accepted being a replacement just to be loved! Why did you have to ruin her day?” “Do you know what you did? Julian walked out! He left her at the altar because of your phone call! He humiliated her in front of the entire city!” “Chloe is the laughingstock of New York. She tried to jump off the roof! Are you satisfied?” “If she dies, her blood is on your hands!” I coughed, blood splattering onto the sheets. The monitor by my bed started screaming an alarm. “Ethan,” I gasped, “ask yourself… do I really have you and Dad?” “Who gets loved so much that they’re left to die in a foreign country?” “You care that Chloe is sad. Do you care that I’m dying alone?” “I regret ever loving you as a brother. You don’t have a heart.” Nurses rushed in. “Code Blue! BP is crashing! Get the crash cart!” Ethan heard the chaos. His voice wavered. “Stop it. Is this another act?” “Ava, talk to me! Stop scaring me!” “Put the guard on! I want proof!” It was laughable. I was dying, and he wanted proof. But then… wait. Did he say Julian walked out? In the background of Ethan’s call, I heard his assistant. “Sir, Julian is on a jet. He broke through airport security. He beat up half a dozen guards to get to the tarmac. He’s coming for her.” “Also… Julian never planned to marry Chloe. He was going to expose something at the wedding. He was planning to destroy her.” Destroy her? My vision was fading. The darkness was creeping in from the edges. Was Julian really coming? It felt too late.

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After my period went MIA for two solid months, my mom got it in her head that I was pregnant. So, she dragged me to the doctor. And who was sitting in the exam room? My ex-boyfriend, the one I’d dumped two months ago. His face was a blank mask, his voice colder than a morgue. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” When I didn’t comply fast enough for his liking, he took matters into his own hands and started pulling my pants down himself. But the second the privacy curtain was drawn, he took off his glasses, leaned over me, and whispered, “We never went all the way. So why haven’t you had your period in two months?” 1 I never thought I’d run into my ex at my absolute lowest. To be fair, I should have seen it coming. When I saw the name ‘Dr. Cole Jacobs’ on the digital directory in the lobby, my brain short-circuited for a second. It can’t be… I clung to a sliver of hope. It’s a big city, lots of hospitals. Coincidences happen. But the moment I walked into the room and our eyes met, that hope died a swift and merciless death. He was impeccably dressed in a crisp, reassuring white coat. He had the title of Deputy Chief Physician at one of the top hospitals in the country. The hand holding the pen was elegant, with perfectly defined knuckles. Who else could it be? His tone was all business. “Ashley Price, is it? What seems to be the problem?” Great. It had only been two months, and he was already pretending he didn’t know me. Cold. Though, to be fair, the things I’d said when I broke up with him were a thousand times colder. My exact words were: “Cole Jacobs, after today, the only way you’ll ever see me again is if you’re on your deathbed, begging for one last look. And even then, I might not grace you with my presence.” Well, karma’s a bitch. Here we were, reunited in a hospital. Only the tables had turned. He was the doctor, and I was the patient, awaiting my sentence. And as for me “gracing him with my presence”? His appointments were so sought-after that I couldn’t get one. My mom had to resort to her superpower—money—and pay double the price to a scalper just to get me in. I’d overheard some girls in the waiting room gushing about how hot the doctor was, how the online reviews weren’t lying. They said you didn’t even need medicine; just getting his number was enough. His face was so devastatingly handsome it could make you want to live for another fifty years. At the time, I’d wondered if all guys with that name were that good-looking. I was curious to see for myself. And now I have. Devastatingly handsome, indeed. Except the devastation was all mine. 2 I’m usually quick with a comeback, but from the moment I stepped into that room, it was like my tongue had been possessed by a particularly stupid ghost. My mom, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between me and Cole. She launched into a loud, detailed account of my symptoms. “Dr. Jacobs, she hasn’t had her period in two months! It’s either pregnancy or some terrible disease. You have to give our Ashley a thorough check-up!” The sheer awkwardness of the situation was enough to build a new wonder of the world. “Of course, ma’am. We’ll take it one step at a time,” Cole said, his voice the epitome of calm professionalism. He had that perfect bedside manner that made patients feel completely at ease. But I saw it. As he lowered his head to write in my chart, I saw the words he was actually scrawling: “Patient possibly pregnant. Missed period. Not only moved on without missing a beat, but got knocked up by someone else in two months…” Hey, hey, is that last part really medically relevant? “Do you have a boyfriend?” It was a standard OB-GYN question, especially when it came to missed periods. Before I could open my mouth, my mom jumped in. “Oh, yes! And our Ashley and her boyfriend are just so in love. Practically inseparable!” “Have you taken a pregnancy test?” “Not yet! The second I found out she’d missed her period, I rushed her right over. It’s so hard to get an appointment these days,” my mom chirped. “I see.” On the surface, Cole’s expression was placid. But my danger senses were tingling, and I could see the knuckles of the hand gripping the ballpoint pen turning white. The tip of the pen was bent at a seventy-degree angle, pressing so hard it had torn through three layers of paper. Dude, that’s my medical chart, not your burn book! “So, is it likely she’s pregnant?” my mom asked, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation. I shot to my feet. “You know, I think I feel fine now! I actually feel like my period is about to start.” I knew Cole’s possessive streak. If I stayed in this room any longer, I was toast. But my mom shoved me back down into the chair. “What are you talking about, dear? This appointment was so hard to get! Now that we’re here, you need to tell the doctor everything that’s wrong.” I was on pins and needles, a nervous wreck. Cole finally adopted a more sympathetic tone. “With you here, ma’am, Ashley might be a little embarrassed to talk.” My mom had a lightbulb moment. “Oh, of course! What’s there to be shy about? I’ve seen it all,” she said as she walked out. Do you have any idea who this Dr. Jacobs really is? I wanted to scream. In bed, he’s a complete animal! He only looks like a saint. 3 If my life were a movie, it would be a disaster film, and this would be the long, slow-motion shot of my impending doom. As the clinic door clicked shut, it felt like a guillotine dropping. With the sole audience member—my mom—gone, Cole finally dropped the act. He put down the pen he hadn’t been using to write my chart. The cool, aloof doctor, with his smoldering eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses, let out a cold laugh. “Well, well, Ashley. You’ve really outdone yourself. Who’s the father?” “It’s only been two months, and you’re already pregnant.” “That person who texted me was right. You really are a…” He stopped himself. “Forget it. From now on, we go our separate ways. You’re just a patient. It has nothing to do with me.” His voice was laced with ice. I was completely lost. What text? What was he talking about? Had Cole fallen for a phishing scam? As God is my witness, my heart belonged to Cole and Cole alone! Okay, so maybe I was a little wild before I met him. Our first meeting was hardly the stuff of romance novels. I’d just finished a hellish project for a client and decided to celebrate by hitting a male stripper club with some friends. But our GPS, in its infinite wisdom, led us to a classy, quiet cocktail bar instead. We didn’t bother checking the sign and just went in. The place had style, I’ll give it that. But my tastes are a little less… refined. After a quick scan of the menu, I ordered a Jägerbomb. As luck would have it, Cole was one of the bar’s investors and happened to be there that night. When he brought our drinks, he offered a friendly warning: “Mixing caffeine and alcohol isn’t a great idea. It can cause heart palpitations…” By then, my friends had already plied me with several rounds. I was seeing double. All I registered was a ridiculously hot guy standing in front of me. I grabbed his hand. “Whoa, the talent in this place is top-notch! How much for a night?” “Damn, look at these hands, these abs… premium quality.” I don’t remember much, but my friends later told me I didn’t just grope him; I tried to wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. They were so mortified they wanted to crawl into a hole and pretend they didn’t know me. The next day, when I sobered up and learned of my transgressions, I was mortified too. But I couldn’t get his face out of my head. So, I shamelessly went back to the bar to “apologize,” which mostly consisted of me tugging on his sleeve and trying to get another look at his pecs. After I’d stalked him for ten days straight, Cole finally had enough. He cornered me in an alley behind the bar. “Ashley, are you here to apologize or to harass me?” I just giggled. “If you’re with me, no more male strippers,” he said, laying down his terms. “And no ogling other guys. Can you do that?” “Of course! From now on, my heart is all yours,” I vowed. Honestly, that night was the first and only time I’d ever considered going to a male stripper club. It was just a whim. But then I stumbled upon the man of my dreams, and I hadn’t looked at another guy since. I was the one who said the harsh words, but Cole was the one who initiated the breakup. His reason was: “I’m too busy with work at the hospital. I don’t have enough time for you. I don’t want to hold you back.” What a load of crap. Of course, I had to fire back with something equally cutting. I had to win the breakup. But now, he was accusing me of cheating, and it had something to do with a text message? There was definitely more to this story. 4 The reason I hadn’t tried to get Cole back these past two months was because I wanted my freedom. It wasn’t until after we started dating that he told me his real job was a doctor. The biggest problem with having a doctor for a boyfriend is the constant health policing. Other couples hold hands and sip iced milk tea on a hot day. Cole would stop me, explain how cold drinks on a hot day were a direct invasion of the lungs, and hand me a thermos of ginger-date tea instead. When I ordered takeout, I craved spicy, greasy things like Sichuan hot pot and barbecue skewers. He would calmly list all the ways those foods increased my risk of various diseases until I guiltily cancelled my order. So, when he broke up with me, as baffling as it was, a part of me was relieved. I was finally free to indulge in a paradise of fried chicken, late-night street food, ice-cold beer, and spicy crawfish. No more pinching my nose and choking down the “health tonics” he brought home from the hospital pharmacy. The harsh words were just a front, a way to keep him from coming back and finding me binge-watching shows at 3 a.m. with a pile of takeout containers. For the past two months, my social media has been a curated gallery of heartbreak. I posted angsty song lyrics, stuff like “How Could You Bear to Hurt Me” and “Thinking of You All Night.” But in reality, without his watchful eye, I was living my best, unhealthiest life. I’d tried every single pre-packaged meal from the convenience store near my apartment. I ate everything—icy, scalding, greasy—and stayed up until all hours. And now, here I was. My plan had been to eat my fill and then go crawling back to him. But of course, fate had other plans. Seriously, if I’d known I was going to run into my ex, I would not have worn my My Melody pajama set underneath my clothes. The cartoon rabbit’s big, innocent eyes were staring up from my chest, giving it a ridiculously comical look. I was going for a quirky vibe. But! Every time I saw Cole before, I dressed to kill. I wanted his eyes glued to me. Lace, ribbons, silk that clung to every curve, g-strings with pearl embellishments—you name it, I wore it. If he found out this was my actual taste in underwear, I would die of shame. 5 While I was having a full-blown panic attack, Cole’s voice cut through the air, cold and clinical. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” I clutched my shirt, refusing to budge. “I’ve seen every inch of you. What’s there to be shy about?” When that didn’t work, he just reached for my clothes himself. No, you can’t! I squirmed like a worm on a hook. The commotion brought my mom back into the room. She saw me writhing on the exam table, trying to escape his grasp. “What is wrong with you?” she boomed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of! To a doctor, there’s no such thing as male or female. He’s just trying to help you.” She rushed over and pinned me down. “Dr. Jacobs, please, just examine her.” “I want a different doctor!” I croaked. “This hospital is impossible to get into! I spent three days refreshing the app just to get this slot. You think we can just walk out?” my mom said, crushing my last hope. “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to marry your boyfriend and live happily ever after? Do you want to drag this out and make him worry? He’s so busy, do you really want to add to his stress? Don’t you love him?” In my mind, Cole and I were on a break, so I hadn’t told my mom we’d “broken up.” The beautiful future she was describing was the one I’d imagined with him. These vows of a life together, so touching and sweet, were now turning the air sour. The more she talked, the darker both our faces became. He thought she was talking about the guy who’d supposedly knocked me up. And I was getting a headache just thinking about how I was going to explain this whole mess to him. Suddenly, a jarring ringtone shattered the tension: “We should break up with dignity…” It was Cole’s phone. His ringtone was that one line, on repeat. Wow, talk about holding a grudge. If he was really over it, would he still have that as his ringtone? He silenced the call without a word. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his phone screen. His wallpaper was still a photo of us. Except it was in black and white. Was he mourning our dead relationship? It hit me then. The breakup, for him, was real. 6 My Melody pajamas didn’t seem so important anymore. Just then, Cole finally cut my mom off. “We’re about to begin the examination. I’ll have to ask you to step outside, ma’am.” Seeing that I had finally resigned myself to my fate, my mom gave me a few stern warnings, drew the privacy curtain, and went out to wait. As my shirt was slowly lifted, My Melody’s big, innocent eyes popped into view. I am a C-cup, for the record. Cole barely glanced at them. “Your new boyfriend has terrible taste.” With my mom gone, I seized the opportunity. “He’s not my new boyfriend! There’s no one else. It’s only ever been you!” Cole just snorted and ignored me. He squeezed a cold gel onto my stomach, and the transducer glided across my skin. My mouth was the only part of me that could move, so I decided to play the nostalgia card. “Cole, maybe it is your baby. I’ve missed two periods.” “And the timing fits, right? That night we were together…” “Is that so?” There was no warmth in his eyes. “As I recall, we didn’t go all the way that night.” The doctor in the white coat suddenly leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. My stupid heart started pounding. He was so close. It felt like he was flirting. Was he going to… right here? A montage of R-rated scenes flashed through my mind.

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My brother used one of my curated selfies to catfish people online. He was hoping to hook a sweet, shy girl, but instead, he snagged a leviathan: our university’s resident hothead, Jax. Jax, feeling deeply insulted, took to the campus confessions board that very night to put him on blast: “PSA: My roommate is a total creep. Not that I’m planning anything, but just hypothetically, is it illegal to murder him?” Someone in the comments tried to play peacemaker: “Dude, chill. What if he wasn’t lying? What if that’s actually his sister?” Jax’s reply was swift and brutal: “Bullshit. Nobody looks that good in real life. Photoshop frauds must die.” Then came the next day’s basketball game. There, in the cheerleading squad, he saw me—the girl who “couldn’t possibly look that good.” He dropped the ball mid-dribble, whipped out his phone, and frantically edited his post. “URGENT: I think I scared my brother-in-law so bad he fainted. Should I give him mouth-to-mouth? Waiting online for answers!” 1 Tyson and I are twins. But the distribution of intellect between us is ridiculously skewed, as if I stole his share of brains back in the womb. While I was winning gold medals in the Math Olympiad, he was playing in the mud. When I got early admission into a top-tier university, he was being held back by his teacher for mixing up the alphabet with, well, everything else. Somehow, by a stroke of dumb luck, he got an athletic scholarship to the same university as me. Just a few days into the semester, the idiot showed up at my door, his face glowing with a dopey, lovesick grin. He told me he was in love and was going to pursue the famously aloof campus queen. I knew who he was talking about. That girl wasn’t even into guys. Tyson, however, was a firm believer in the invincible power of true love. For the next few weeks, he gave me daily progress reports. “Paige, she added me! She accepted my friend request!” “She’s so sweet when she texts, and she sends me cat emojis! Is this what it’s like to talk to an angel?” “…” “Paige! Help! She wants to meet up tomorrow! I’m freaking out, can you help me?” When I got that message, I was buried under a mountain of thesis revisions from my advisor, my brain completely fried. I agreed without a second thought. I worked late into the night, finally emailing the paper to my professor before collapsing onto my bed, phone in hand. As my brain slowly rebooted, a thought surfaced. Wait a second. The campus queen was known for her ice-queen vibe. When did she become a “sweet angel”? And besides, Tyson, with his single-digit IQ, actually managed to win her over? Before I could puzzle it out, my roommate, Tilly, forwarded me a trending post from the university forum. The title was pure clickbait. My thumb slipped, and I tapped on it. The poster’s username alone screamed “don’t mess with me,” and every word dripped with fury: “My roommate is a sicko. Can I just bury him in the woods?” 2 The comments section was a swarm of curious onlookers, eager for drama. “What kind of sicko? Spill the tea!” “OP is a guy, roommate’s a guy… I see where this is going, hehe.” “Ew, keep it in your pants. Not every guy-on-guy story is a romance.” The original poster replied instantly, his rage palpable even through the screen. “He’s not gay, he’s a scammer! Used some hot girl’s picture as his profile pic. I thought I was talking to a girl for two whole weeks!” Ah, a classic catfishing disaster. Some commenters were on his side: “That’s disgusting. Using a fake photo to play with someone’s feelings. OP, don’t hold back, beat him up!” Others tried to be the voice of reason: “It’s the middle of the night, you guys are roommates. Just rough him up a little to blow off steam, don’t actually kill the guy.” “Wait, you lived with him this whole time and only just found out?” This seemed to make the poster even angrier: “I’m a freshman who usually lives off-campus. I don’t know the idiot. He always seemed like a harmless dummy, but it was all an act!” “I just cornered him in the bathroom. He was crying and begging, swearing the picture was of his sister and that she really looks like that. Give me a break. As if anyone could be that beautiful in real life.” Within minutes, the thread had hundreds of replies. I was cackling under my covers, thoroughly entertained. Then, my scrolling finger froze on a blurry photo someone had posted. It was a picture of the poster’s dorm room, meant to prove how much of a “creep” the roommate was. In the corner of the shot was a scruffy gray backpack. Dangling from it was an incredibly ugly, bright green frog plushie. Unless I was blind, that was the exact same one Tyson had begged me to win for him at the arcade last week. Just then, the OP added a new comment: “The coward is a total lightweight. Started crying before I even laid a hand on him. Keeps insisting it’s his sister and that she’s coming tomorrow to sort things out.” “Is that a threat? He wants to throw down? Fine by me. He says his sister runs with a tough crowd. I’ll be waiting right here tomorrow. Let’s see if I don’t take them both down.” The smile on my face vanished. Oh, crap. This “sicko” who used his sister’s photo to catfish his hot-tempered roommate… it couldn’t be Tyson, could it? 3 My head was spinning. I frantically scrolled through the post again, desperate to find any evidence to the contrary. Finally, I had to accept the horrifying truth. That unlucky bastard was, without a doubt, my own flesh-and-blood brother. Tyson, you have a death wish! The tone in the comments had already shifted. “Damn, not even scared of a ‘tough crowd’? This OP doesn’t sound like your average freshman.” “For those who don’t know, that tone, that swagger… there’s only one guy on campus who talks like that. The one even the dean is polite to.” “Oh, I know who this is! It’s him! That creep roommate is so screwed. He picked a fight with the final boss.” A chill ran down my spine. Based on my extensive reading experience, guys with this kind of background and temper were always the untouchable campus royalty. I had the sudden, violent urge to strangle Tyson. My fingers flew faster than my brain, opening my chat with him. “Tyson, are you trying to get yourself killed?!” It took a long time for him to reply. When he did, it was a voice message. I tapped it, my hand trembling. Tyson’s blood-curdling scream nearly shattered my eardrums. “Paige! Help me! He’s going to kill me!” Thank god I was wearing headphones, or the entire dorm would have woken up. Then, a new voice cut through the message. A cold, low chuckle. It was deep, clear, and laced with a casual sort of menace. “So, what ‘tough crowd’ are we talking about? How many people are you bringing tomorrow?” 4 I took a deep breath, my fingers shaking as I typed. I wrote and deleted my message several times before finally sending: “Um… this is all a misunderstanding. It’s just me…” The person on the other end clearly had no patience for my explanations. He cut me off, issuing a challenge. “You looking down on me? Fine. I don’t hit girls. I’ll even give you a two-hand handicap tomorrow.” The sheer arrogance in his tone was off the charts. He sounded like he knew how to fight. I suddenly felt like Tyson was a lost cause. Maybe it was time to delete his contact and start over. This whole drama of feuding families and gang wars was way above the paygrade of a quiet academic like me. Forget it. I was going to sleep. But just before I drifted off, I made the mistake of checking the forum one last time. The conversation had taken a weird turn. “OP, have you ever considered the possibility that his ‘tough crowd’ sister actually does look like the picture?” “So what? Is being pretty a superpower? OP’s still gonna wipe the floor with her.” “Seriously though, how hot does a picture have to be to have OP this worked up? Post it, let us be the judge.” “Forget it, man. He’s definitely keeping it for himself.” The OP’s final reply was a furious declaration: “Impossible! Absolutely no one looks like that! It’s a scam! This is the first time in my life I’ve been played for a fool, and I’m getting my payback tomorrow!” “So the sister and brother better be ready.” I shut my phone, a tired, serene smile on my face. Great. Looks like tomorrow was going to be a bloodbath. 5 The next morning, Tyson sent me a text from his burner phone. “Paige, something urgent came up, I have to lie low for a while. Take care of yourself.” “P.S. Maybe you should wear a helmet? He said he doesn’t hit girls, but he might not be able to stop himself.” That little rat. He was fast. Well, since the main culprit had fled the scene, there was no reason for me to walk into the line of fire. I had planned to be a hermit in my dorm all day, but Tilly’s booming voice dragged me out of bed. “Paige! Get up! The sun is shining! It’s criminal to sleep in on a day this gorgeous!” Oh, right. I forgot to mention. Tyson and I have different last names, one from our mom and one from our dad. So, everyone assumes I’m an only child. Tyson doesn’t dare acknowledge me in public, afraid I’ll cut off his allowance. “Paige, come on! There’s a basketball game on the North Field, and it’s packed with hotties!” “I heard all the freshman legends are playing. If we’re late, we won’t get a good spot!” Tilly shook my arm, whining, “Please come with me, pretty please? For me, Paige?” I couldn’t resist her, so I dragged myself out of bed, my hair a bird’s nest, and got ready. When we got to the court, it was a madhouse. It felt like every girl from our university, and even the neighboring one, was here. “See that?” Tilly pulled me to a spot in the front corner. “That whole crowd is here for Jax.” She pointed to the center of the court, where a tall figure was surrounded by his teammates. “Jax? You mean the one who’s…” I squinted, trying to make out his face. “Yes! The one whose family is loaded, who has a notoriously short fuse, but is so unbelievably handsome he’s the new campus heartthrob!” Tilly was practically drooling. “I heard his family donated the new science building. And he got in on his own merit, not just money. He’s like a romance novel hero come to life!” My stomach dropped. Jax? Why did that name sound so familiar? Before I could connect the dots, Tilly leaned in close. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses again? You’re wasting your eyesight! Jax’s face is a work of art, it’s a crime not to see it clearly.” She studied my face for a moment, then changed the subject. “Seriously, Paige, you’re this beautiful and you never wear a stitch of makeup. If you just put in a little effort, that campus queen wouldn’t stand a chance.” I quickly covered her mouth. “Don’t say that. I don’t want the attention.” “Ugh, such a humble brag,” Tilly pouted, turning her attention back to the court. Suddenly, she started waving excitedly. “Whatever! I gotta cheer for my man!” “Your man?” “Hehe, we just started dating. He’s on the other team.” Tilly blushed. “Wanna know what the sickeningly sweet smell of love is like?” I shook my head violently. The game started, and the energy was electric. Tilly was screaming her head off next to me. “Take down Jax! Go, baby, go! Crush the bourgeoisie!” We were surrounded by Jax’s fan club, and her cheers earned us a volley of death glares. Even the players on the court glanced our way. The tall guy, Jax, turned his head. We were standing right under the basket, so he was incredibly close. Even without my glasses, I could see his face clearly. It was stunning. Deep-set features, sharp, intense eyes. He was sweating from the game, a drop tracing the line of his throat as he breathed. His black jersey was damp with sweat, clinging to his body and hinting at the powerful muscles underneath. He was tall, easily over six-foot-three. And he was frowning, looking absolutely ferocious. The ball rolled to a stop by our feet. Jax walked over to get it, his eyes sweeping casually over the crowd. When his gaze passed over me. He stopped dead. His eyes, which had been burning with competitive fire just a second ago, went wide as saucers. He froze, like he’d seen a ghost.

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At birth, I made local news for being too handsome. By my first birthday, wealthy families were already proposing marriage pacts. After two girls ended up hospitalized over a fight about me, my parents moved and used cosmetics to conceal my face—finally granting me normalcy. That’s when I first experienced life without the shield of good looks. One day, after being called an “ugly freak” and locked in an abandoned classroom, a girl climbed through the window: Faye. She took my hand and said seriously, “Kian, looks aren’t everything. You are who you are.” My heart skipped. I studied hard and followed her to university. The day I got my acceptance letter, I was ready to confess—but she asked me first: “Kian, will you be my boyfriend?” Joy washed over me. For three years, she cared for me entirely, making me the envy of everyone. Until a party, when Faye had to do the ice bucket challenge with the person next to her: either me or Nolan, the campus heartthrob. She chose me. As ice water soaked my head, my heart froze just the same. 1 A bone-chilling cold shot through me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I shivered violently. The atmosphere in the private room hit a fever pitch, all thanks to that bucket of ice. Everyone was hooting and hollering. “Faye, you’re a real hero! Nolan is our campus heartthrob, the face of our university! Better to sacrifice your own boyfriend than the handsome guy!” “Yeah, who would want to see Nolan get drenched? If he caught a cold and ended up in the hospital, we wouldn’t see him for days!” “No other guy at this school even comes close.” Nolan just smirked, basking in the adoration like he was born to it. Someone playfully shoved a microphone in Faye’s face, interviewing her like a news reporter. “Miss Dawson, could you tell us what psychological factors led to your decision?” Their eyes were gleaming, hungry for gossip. Faye rolled her eyes and pushed the mic away. “You guys need to chill. I only picked Kian because Nolan has a cold.” With that, she walked over to me, dabbing at my face with a dry towel. I always used the best waterproof makeup, so nothing had smudged. The tan skin, the constellation of freckles across my cheeks, the slightly puffy eyes—it all remained perfectly intact. With my hair plastered to my scalp, I knew I was far from handsome. I could already hear snickers from across the room. A few guys who had never liked me spoke up. “Seriously, Faye, why are you with Kian? There’s not a single thing about you two that matches.” Everyone thought I wasn’t good enough for Faye. I’d heard it a thousand times since we started dating. Usually, Faye’s face would darken, and she would tell them to take it back. Then she’d reassure me not to overthink it, that she didn’t care what they said. But this time, she didn’t say a word. Nolan’s gaze was fixed on her, and I saw Faye’s eyes flicker towards him from the corner of my vision. A bitter, indescribable sourness rose in my chest. I reached for Faye’s hand, but she instinctively slapped it away. I stared at her, stunned. Realizing what she’d done, Faye quickly grabbed my hand again, but her eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. Just then, someone piped up, “Uh oh, I think Nolan’s had too much to drink. Faye, you’re the only one here with a car. Can you give him a ride?” “Sure,” she agreed without a moment’s hesitation. She turned to me. “Kian, Nolan lives in the opposite direction from you. I’ll call you a cab, you can get home on your own, okay?” Before I could answer, others chimed in. “What’s the problem? He’s perfectly safe looking like that.” “Come on, Kian, don’t tell me you can’t find your way home without your girlfriend.” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My chest felt tight, like it was being crushed. I gripped her hand tighter. “Faye, I…” I was about to say I’d go with her to drop Nolan off, but then Nolan let out a pained groan. Faye immediately tore her hand from mine and rushed to his side. I was left standing there, frozen, as the noise of the room swirled around me. “I think Nolan has a fever.” “My bad, my bad. He was already sick, I shouldn’t have pushed him to drink.” “I’ll take him to the hospital!” Faye said, her voice laced with panic. She helped Nolan up and hurried past me, her shoulder slamming into mine so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor. I watched her go, not once looking back, until she was out of sight. 2 After being soaked with ice water and then waiting in the cold wind for a cab, it was no surprise that I woke up with a fever the next day. I called my advisor to get the day off, then I called Faye. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. “Faye, I have a fever…” My voice was a hoarse croak. There was a pause on the other end, then a man’s voice answered, laced with an arrogant, triumphant tone. “Faye’s asleep. Should I wake her?” My entire body went cold. It took me a moment to find my voice. “Nolan? Is she at your place…?” He chuckled. “Technically, I’m at her place. I was on an IV until late last night, and my house is too far, so Faye brought me back to her apartment.” He paused, then continued, his voice oozing with a sense of inevitable victory. “You know, Kian, if I wanted to, I could take Faye from you anytime.” “But honestly, competing with you for a woman… it’s not even a challenge.” His words were dripping with pride and confidence, as if to say you’re not even worthy of being my rival. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. “Faye isn’t a toy,” I said, my voice cold. “And she’s not like other girls.” Nolan’s laughter grew louder. “So defensive of her? Here, let me play you something interesting.” He played a recording. Nolan’s voice, slurred with alcohol, came through the speaker. “Faye, you still haven’t answered my question from earlier. Why are you really with Kian Monroe?” “He’s smart and kind. He’s a good person. Why wouldn’t I like him?” A wave of relief washed over me, and a small smile touched my lips. See? Faye was different. But my relief was short-lived. Nolan’s voice continued. “Is that so? Then why did you choose to take me home tonight instead of him?” “Why have you been stealing glances at me all night?” “Faye, what if I told you that if you break up with him, I’ll be with you?” My heart seized. A nervous tension gripped me. Answer him, Faye. Tell him you only love me. Reject him, now… “Would you really?” Faye’s voice trembled, filled with a nervous, almost hopeful excitement. My heart plummeted. The recording ended. Nolan laughed. “Get it now, Kian? Being handsome really does give you all the power.” I hung up the phone. I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly. I had to admit it. I was scared. The fever made my head spin, making it nearly impossible to think straight. But one memory cut through the haze: Faye, climbing through that classroom window, taking my hand. The girl in the white shirt, her face full of righteous conviction. Her palm was warm, sending a steady stream of strength into me. “Kian, looks aren’t everything. You are who you are.” Those words had changed my life. Before that, I hated myself. My real face brought my family nothing but trouble, and my plain, disguised face brought me nothing but bullies. I had started to wonder if my existence had any meaning at all. It was Faye’s words that made me see myself differently, to focus on my character instead of my appearance. But I forgot that people change. Whether she had changed her mind or not, I had to ask her myself. I took some medicine and slept for a whole day. When I woke up, I saw a long list of missed calls on my phone. Not a single one was from Faye. It used to be that if I went more than an hour without texting her, she’d come running to find me, terrified that something had happened. I let out a bitter laugh. The answer seemed obvious. Pulling myself together, I called back the number that had tried me the most: my academic advisor. She picked up immediately. “Kian, you finally answered! I heard you were sick. About that job hosting the Ivy League professors in three days—you don’t have to worry about it anymore. We’ve found a replacement.” 3 I froze. “Professor, wait! I’m feeling better, I can do it!” Over a month ago, the university announced that a delegation from several Ivy League schools would be visiting. They selected a few students to act as hosts. Thanks to my fluent English and excellent etiquette, I had secured one of the spots. With the academic credit from this event, I would have enough to apply for a study abroad program at my dream university. I had spent at least four hours every day for the past month practicing my presentation. Just a few days ago, my advisor was praising my dedication. Why the sudden change? I rushed to the university to find her, insisting that I was completely recovered and that my illness wouldn’t affect the event. She sighed, then told me the truth. “I know how much effort you’ve put into this, Kian.” “But the Dawson family just donated a new building to the school. Faye specifically requested that Nolan Prescott be added to the hosting team, and our hands were tied…” “What did you say?” I heard my own voice, rough and raw, as if it had been scraped with gravel. My advisor seemed to remember my relationship with Faye, and a flicker of regret crossed her face. “I’m not going to get involved in your personal matters. You should go ask her about it yourself.” I found Faye in a practice room, helping Nolan with his conversational English. Nolan’s English was so bad he hadn’t even passed the basic proficiency test, and his spoken English was a disaster. I remembered hearing that he was short on credits and might have to delay his graduation. Faye was really going all out for him. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps, her eyes widening slightly when she saw me. “Kian, what are you doing here?” “Faye, was it you who took my hosting spot?” A flash of guilt appeared on her face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of justification. “Kian, Nolan will have to repeat a year if he doesn’t get this credit. You’re not short on credits. Giving him this opportunity won’t cost you anything.” “But my study abroad application might get rejected! You know how hard I worked for this!” “Then just apply again next year! I’ll be right here with you, isn’t that enough?” Maybe it was because I’d never spoken to her with such intensity before, but Faye seemed irritated. “Besides, the hosts they picked are all handsome guys and beautiful girls. Don’t you think you’d look out of place standing with them? I’m doing this for your own good, to save you from being mocked again.” I couldn’t believe those words were coming from her mouth. She was the one who used to hold me, comfort me, and tell me over and over not to care what other people thought. And now, she was the one bluntly telling me how she really felt. The mockery of others had never been able to hurt me. But a single sentence from Faye completely shattered me. The kind, sincere girl I once knew… it seemed she was really gone. My eyes burned, and my body trembled with anger. Maybe she had never seen me like this before, because she looked a little scared. She instinctively raised a hand, as if to wipe away a tear I didn’t know was there. But beside her, Nolan let out a sniffle. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken your spot. It’s just… you said you had a fever, so I thought maybe I had a chance.” “It’s just one more year, I can work harder. Faye, give him the spot back.” As he spoke, tears rolled down his cheeks like pearls from a broken string. As expected of the campus heartthrob—even his crying was beautiful. Compared to my hysterical state, it was clear where Faye’s sympathies lay. Her gaze fell on my reddened eyes and the dense freckles on my face, and a flicker of disgust crossed her features. “Kian, when did you become so selfish and cold-hearted?” “Nolan’s family isn’t well-off. Do you know what a burden another year of tuition and living expenses would be? Are you only thinking about yourself?” “I got together with you because I thought you were kind. But look at you now. Is there anything left about you to like?” My fingers curled into tight fists. My voice was exhausted. “Then… let’s break up.” 4 As I spoke those words, Nolan let out a piercing scream. Faye didn’t even spare me a glance. She rushed to his side, swatting away a bug that had landed on him. Nolan shot me a smug look over her shoulder. It was as if he was proving his point. He could take her whenever he wanted. It didn’t matter anymore whether Faye had heard me or not. A woman who could be stolen away by a handsome face was not a woman I wanted. After calming Nolan down, Faye turned around and realized I was gone. She frowned, a flicker of panic in her eyes. She thought she had faintly heard me say something about breaking up. She shook her head. She must have misheard. I had given up on getting the credit from the hosting event, but that evening, I got a call from my advisor. One of the other student hosts had come down with acute gastroenteritis and couldn’t make it. They wanted me to fill in. I accepted. The next morning, I was dressed and waiting at the school gate long before anyone else. The other hosts started to arrive. Nolan’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw me. I ignored him, silently running through my prepared speech in my head. A crowd of students had gathered to watch. Someone shouted from the back. “Why is there something so dirty mixed in with all the handsome people?” “Yeah, one bad apple spoils the bunch!” “I thought the hosts were supposed to be the best students in the school. Shouldn’t that include looks?” “Where does he get the confidence to just stand there?” The loudest insults came from Nolan’s fan club. But as more people joined in, the mood shifted, and soon everyone was looking at me with amusement. I ignored their stares and their whispers. I turned my head and my eyes met Faye’s. She flinched and quickly looked away, as if she was afraid of anyone knowing we were connected. A sudden, wicked impulse took hold of me. I waved at her. “Faye! Don’t I look handsome?” Faye was stunned. The other students turned to look at her. “Hey, beautiful, do you know him?” “Are you that guy’s girlfriend?” “No!” Faye denied it, her voice too loud. The forced smile on my face froze. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, the pain so sharp it was hard to breathe. Suddenly, someone slammed into me hard. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Something thick and warm was poured over my head. Nolan’s voice was full of fake remorse. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose!” I looked up and saw he was apologizing to a girl next to him. “You went to all the trouble of making me this oatmeal, and I couldn’t even hold it steady.” The girl blushed and shook her head. “No, it’s okay! I’ll make it for you again!” “Nolan, you did that on purpose!” I shot to my feet and swung my hand at his face. But Faye rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. She glared at me, furious. “What do you think you’re doing? Nolan just accidentally spilled something on you, and you’re going to hit him?” “He’s the campus heartthrob! He represents the face of our university!” “And what about me? Am I not a student here? Does he get a free pass for everything just because he’s handsome?” “Faye, you were the one who told me that looks don’t define a person!” My eyes were filled with disappointment. I shook her hand off and turned to leave. Faye stood frozen in place. Everyone assumed I had left for good. After all, I was covered in oatmeal, my clothes ruined. Some said I was just ashamed and couldn’t stand to be there any longer, painfully aware that I didn’t belong. The guests were about to arrive, and I was still nowhere to be seen. The advisor was frantic. “What are we going to do with one person missing? Is Kian coming back or not?” “Professor, he intentionally ditched his duties! You should dock his credits!” “This is an important day for our school! He should be disciplined!” “I say we expel him! He’s a disgrace to our university!” Just then, a convoy of cars appeared in the distance, heading for the school gate. Everyone turned excitedly. The advisor was about to step in and take my place when she heard a voice behind her. “Professor, I’m ready.” Hearing my voice, the advisor let out a sigh of relief and turned around. “Kian, you’re just in time. Quick…” The moment she saw me, she gasped. “Who… who are you?” As the advisor’s shocked voice rang out, everyone else turned to look. One by one, as their eyes fell on my face, they froze, completely dumbfounded. Nolan’s face went deathly pale. I spoke calmly. “Professor, it’s me. Kian Monroe.” A hand suddenly gripped my arm. Faye stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re Kian Monroe?!”

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1 To appease the girl who stole my life, my brother deliberately announced the wrong name at our engagement gala. In front of all of Port Sterling’s elite families, he declared that I was to marry a waiter. The city’s high society pointed and laughed. “The precious Aurora Ashford, marrying a server! How the mighty have fallen!” I stood frozen on the stage, a wave of humiliation and fury washing over me. My brother, Jackson, felt no remorse. “This is what you get for stealing Sophie’s spotlight at the dance competition. She was heartbroken for days. Think of this as a little lesson.” “She’s just a spoiled kid, a bit dramatic. Don’t take it personally,” he added, his tone dismissive. “It’s just a joke, anyway. Dad and I would never actually let you marry him.” … Whispers and stares followed me from every corner of the ballroom. Jackson cleared his throat, his expression unchanged as he addressed the crowd again. “Just a bit of fun, everyone. Aurora is still young. We’ll make a formal announcement about her engagement another time.” He glanced at Sebastian Vaughn, who stood near the stage. It was supposed to be our engagement they were announcing tonight. Everyone in our circle knew our families had arranged it ages ago, that we were childhood sweethearts, destined for each other. My heart clenched, waiting for him to speak, to fix this. But Sebastian’s eyes held a chilling, indifferent distance, as if he were a mere spectator to my public execution. “An announcement is an announcement,” he said, his voice smooth and cutting. “The Ashfords are a respectable family. You can’t treat something like this as a game.” He smirked. “Besides, the waiter looks thrilled. You wouldn’t want to break his heart in front of everyone, would you?” His words struck me like a physical blow. Jackson’s face hardened. He stared at Sebastian, bewildered. “What are you talking about? You love Aurora more than anyone. Why would you say that?” Someone in the crowd snickered. “Doesn’t everyone in Port Sterling know? Mr. Vaughn only has eyes for your other daughter, Sophie. I heard he just bought her a limited-edition sports car to win her favor.” Every word was an icicle piercing my heart. My eyes burned with unshed tears. I strode forward and took the microphone from my brother’s hand. “Since the announcement has been made,” I said, my voice ringing with a conviction I didn’t know I possessed, “it is most certainly not a joke.” “This waiter,” I declared, turning to find him in the crowd, “I’ll marry him!” Jackson’s eyes widened in shock. “Aurora, what the hell are you talking about?!” he hissed. “You are an Ashford! You can’t marry a waiter!” I looked at him, my expression a mask of cold fury. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted, Jackson? Are you happy now?” He was stunned into silence for a moment, then his voice rose in frustration. “Aurora, you’re still competing with Sophie, even now? Don’t you realize how much she’s already been through…” I couldn’t bear to hear another word of his defense for her. I dropped the microphone with a thud and walked off the stage. All eyes were on me. As I passed Sebastian, he grabbed my arm. His tone was low and laced with reprimand. “Aurora, why must you be so stubborn, even now? When will you learn to just back down?” He pulled me closer, his voice softening into a deceptive caress. “Stop being so childish. Go and apologize to Sophie properly. For the sake of our history, I’ll smooth this over for you. You don’t have to throw away your happiness just to prove a point.” I looked up at him and sneered. “Our history?” “Admitting you’re a backstabbing coward would be more honest than this pathetic act of yours. At least then you wouldn’t make me sick.” His face went pale. I ripped my arm from his grasp and walked toward the corner where the waiter stood, shell-shocked. Jackson was frantic, shouting from the stage. “Aurora, don’t do something you’ll regret! Get back here!” Sebastian watched me go, his hands clenched into tight fists. I ignored them both, my focus entirely on the man in front of me. “Will you marry me?” I asked softly. The waiter’s mouth opened, a flicker of an emotion I couldn’t decipher crossing his face. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice smooth yet crisp. “Miss Ashford, I’m just a server. Are you sure you won’t regret this?” “I never regret anything.” “Alright,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’ll marry you.” 2 Jackson charged toward me like a madman, but Sebastian stepped in his way, a cold smile on his lips. “Can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s doing this on purpose,” Sebastian said, his voice a low hiss. “If you go to her now, she’ll just use it to torment Sophie even more.” His smile was razor-sharp. “She’s betting that you won’t let her go through with it. She’s calling your bluff.” “Give in now, and you’ll never have any control over her again when she goes after Sophie.” Jackson froze. I turned, my gaze landing on Sebastian with a cold, dead weight. We were promised to each other from birth, inseparable childhood friends. Then, at twelve, I was kidnapped, vanishing without a trace. The grief shattered my parents. They spent nights sleepless, drowning in guilt, until they adopted Sophie from an orphanage. She was charming and clever, and slowly, she filled the void I had left. They showered her with the love that should have been mine, treating her like a precious gem. A year ago, I clawed my way back from a living nightmare, covered in scars, finally returned home by the police. But I wasn’t met with the joyful tears of a family reunited. I was met with guarded, distant eyes. I still remember them comforting Sophie, right in front of me: “Sophie, we will always love you. She will never threaten your place here.” In that moment, I felt as if I’d been stripped bare in the dead of winter, the cold seeping into my very bones. … The news that the Ashford heiress was marrying a waiter spread like wildfire. Soon, it was the top trending topic in Port Sterling, with millions talking about it. When I got home, the first thing I saw was my father pointing a finger at my brother, his face purple with rage. “You absolute fool! How could you humiliate me like this?!” My mother sighed. “What’s done is done. The best we can do is convince Aurora to issue a public statement saying it was a childish prank, a tantrum to save the family’s reputation.” “I’m sure she’s already regretting it,” she added. “She was just lashing out.” Sophie was crying, her face a mask of delicate sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Mom, Dad. It’s all my fault. Jackson was just trying to stand up for me. I never thought sister would be so reckless as to tarnish the family name.” My mother’s heart instantly melted. “Don’t say that, darling. We know you’re a good girl. You’ve put up with so much since she came back. This wasn’t your fault.” My father nodded in agreement. “Exactly. This has nothing to do with you. It’s Aurora who doesn’t know her place.” “Don’t you worry,” he said, his voice firm. “She just ran wild for too long. She’s using this to get to us. There’s no way she’s actually marrying a waiter.” As the words left his mouth, my mother looked up and our eyes met. The living room fell into a deathly silence. The old me would have screamed. I would have had a hysterical meltdown, demanding to know why they were treating me this way. But I was just so tired now. I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Or maybe, I had simply given up on ever finding a shred of affection from them. I no longer hoped for their love. So, under their wary, hostile stares, I turned and walked upstairs without a word. 3 A few days later, I met the waiter at a café. He was already there, having ordered my favorite coffee and pastries. A bouquet of fresh roses, with droplets of dew still clinging to the petals, sat beside my place setting. I stared at the flowers, a strange warmth blooming in my chest. He smiled gently at me. It was only then that I truly saw him. He was a handsome, refined young man, dressed in a tasteful casual outfit. Though I didn’t recognize the brands, the clothes were understated but clearly expensive. “Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Landon.” “I’m Aurora Ashford.” Landon paused for a fraction of a second. “I know,” he said softly. “The real Ashford heiress. The one whose life was stolen by an impostor.” My head snapped up. For so long, everyone had told me to be considerate of Sophie, to understand the hardships she’d faced. Not a single person had ever acknowledged that I was the one who had truly lost everything. After a moment, I pushed down the surge of emotion and slid a check across the table. “I can’t be seen organizing things. The wedding, the house, the car… whatever a normal wedding has, we’ll have it. Use this. You can put everything in your name. If it’s not enough, just let me know.” “We’ll get married in two weeks. Is that okay?” Landon didn’t take the check. His gaze, dark and unreadable, was fixed on me. “Miss Ashford,” he said, his voice gentle, “are you absolutely certain you won’t regret marrying a waiter with no prospects?” My heart sank a little. “Are you backing out?” I challenged. Landon froze, then a low chuckle escaped him. “Alright. I understand. I’ll be there in two weeks to marry you. And just as you said, we’ll have everything a proper wedding should have, and more.” He didn’t take the check. Instead, he pressed a small, velvet box into my hand before turning and walking away. I opened it. Inside lay a stunning diamond ring. I stared at it, feeling as though my heart was being wrapped in something warm and soft. When I returned home, the cheerful atmosphere vanished. Everyone stared at me with disapproval. My brother, Jackson, scratched his head awkwardly and tried to pull me toward the sofa. “Aurora, you’re back! Come, have some cake.” I gently pushed his hand away. “No, thank you. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” “Wait,” my mother’s sharp voice cut through the air. “We need to talk.” I sighed internally, a bitter smile on my lips. It was always like this. Me, the outsider, standing against them, a united front. Seeing my silence, my mother continued, “Your little stunt at the gala, insisting on marrying a waiter, has not only disgraced our family but also deeply embarrassed the Vaughns.” “So, we’ve decided. It’s best if your sister gets engaged to Sebastian instead.” I slowly turned my head to look at Sebastian. He avoided my gaze. A cold laugh escaped me. The last thread holding my heart together finally snapped. My mother, mistaking my reaction for defiance, scowled. “Don’t be so difficult, Aurora. If you hadn’t made such an ugly scene at the gala, we wouldn’t have to…” “Fine,” I cut her off, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “You can decide. You don’t need to ask me.” “My early congratulations to my dear sister and my future brother in law.” With that, I turned and left, not sparing Sebastian another glance. To my surprise, he followed me, his expression grim. “Aurora, how long are you going to keep this up? I didn’t have a choice.” I looked down at the hand gripping my arm. “Brother in law,” I said, my voice dripping with ice, “is it appropriate for you to be holding me like this?” Sebastian sighed. “Please, don’t be like this. I know you’re angry, but can’t you just behave for once?” His voice softened. “I know you didn’t mean what you said back there. You’re just lashing out because you’re hurt, aren’t you?” I met his gaze. Maybe, once, I would have been heartbroken. For the longest time, I had believed that Sebastian would never betray me. My faith in him was as constant as the sunrise. When I first came home a year ago, my family treated me like a stranger. They indulged Sophie’s every whim. But Sebastian was different. He was always there for me during my darkest moments. I thought his feelings for me were unchangeable. I never imagined he would eventually choose her side. His cruel words from weeks ago still echoed in my ears: “Look at you, this hysterical mess. No wonder your own parents and brother love Sophie more.” “I’m so tired, Aurora. Why do you always force me to choose between you and Sophie? The one time I don’t defend you, you accuse me of falling for her. When does it end?!” “Fine! You want the truth? I have fallen for her! I’m madly in love with her!” Those words were like a series of slaps, waking me up to the cold, hard reality. All along, I was just an obstacle, an inconvenience to be discarded. Sebastian reached out and gently touched my hair, his voice laced with weary condescension. “Can we just stop this, please? We grew up together. I don’t want to see you suffer like this.” “Here’s what we’ll do,” he continued. “I’ll marry Sophie first, to quiet down all the gossip. Then, I’ll buy you a house somewhere private. We can still be together, always.” My eyes widened in disbelief. A searing pain tore through my chest, as if an invisible hand was ripping my heart in two. “Sebastian, do you hear yourself? You want me to be your mistress?!” His brow furrowed, genuinely confused by my reaction. “Aurora, being with me, even without a title, is a hundred times better than being with that waiter, isn’t it?!” he exclaimed, his frustration mounting. “You’ve already hit rock bottom. What are you still holding onto so stubbornly?!” My last shred of hope for him dissolved into dust. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Get out.”

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“If I could choose, I’d pick Amber to be my sister-in-law.” My boyfriend’s sister, Brianna, shot me a defiant look as she said it, topping it off with a dramatic eye-roll. Everyone tensed, expecting fireworks. They were all waiting for the legendary showdown between the future sisters-in-law. But instead, I smiled and voiced my agreement. Then, I announced our breakup on the spot. My boyfriend, Brandon, told me I was being ridiculous. But when I packed my bag and left the campsite in the middle of the night, he saw me. He didn’t try to stop me. Instead, he turned to comfort that girl, Amber. “I’m so sorry,” he said to her. “That must have been so awkward for you. I apologize on Zoe’s behalf.” I wasn’t sad. Not at all. In fact, my heart was soaring with anticipation. This time, in the car crash on the way back, I wouldn’t be there to lose the use of my right arm saving Brianna, only to be despised by her entire family for it. Without me to save her, would Brianna even survive? I was eager to find out. 01 In my last life, Brianna had humiliated me in the exact same way. My response then had been to throw a full glass of beer in her face. The fight that followed was spectacular. A real glimpse into our future sisterly bond. Brandon, my boyfriend, had immediately taken her side, shielding both his sister and her best friend, Amber. I might have won the physical fight—yanking out a fistful of Brianna’s hair and landing a solid kick on the perpetually smirking Amber—but I had lost all face. Even so, I didn’t leave that night. Because Brandon wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was also my boss. I was afraid that if I pushed things too far, I’d lose my job along with my relationship. I was just another transplant in the sprawling city of Havenport, a girl from a smaller town with a replaceable job as an executive assistant. With my liberal arts degree from a good-but-not-great state school, finding another job in Havenport’s brutal market would be a nightmare. And my parents, who had poured all their hopes into me, would never accept me moving back to my hometown of Maple Creek. As they always said, Maple Creek was a town where you needed connections to get by, and their small, struggling tailor shop gave them none. They told me that if I couldn’t make it in Havenport after getting my degree there, it would be a source of shame for them, a reason for the neighbors to laugh. In my last life, I spent that whole night huddled in a dark corner of the campsite, miserable and alone. Brandon never came to find me. The next morning, after the sunrise, I swallowed my pride, reappeared, and successfully fought off Amber to reclaim the front passenger seat. My plan was simple and brutal: until I found a new job, I had to cling to my status as Brandon’s girlfriend. On the drive back, our car swerved to avoid a truck and flipped. Brianna and I were both on the right side of the car. We were both flung out, left dangling over the edge of a cliff. She had managed to grab a small, flimsy branch, while I was clinging to the main trunk of a tree. When her branch started to splinter, I pushed aside all our past grievances and, without a second thought, used my right arm to grab her, holding on for dear life. Brandon and Amber were still in the car, but Brandon was too busy fussing over a tiny scratch on Amber’s head to even notice we were about to die. I held on, my arm screaming in protest, until other drivers stopped and worked together to pull us up. In the end, Brianna was completely unharmed. But my right arm, starved of blood for so long, was permanently damaged. The media praised my heroic act. Brandon’s company was in a critical pre-IPO stage, so to save face, the family had him marry me. Brianna was not grateful. Instead, she accused me of using my “heroism” to trap her brother, ruining his bright future. She and Amber even moved into our home, claiming it was closer to their university. It was clear she wouldn’t rest until Amber was in Brandon’s bed. We had another fight. I only had one good arm, but Brandon didn’t help me. He just called me petty and intolerant for not getting along with his own sister. Then he turned to Amber, his voice dripping with gentle concern. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. This is my house. You and my sister can stay as long as you like. Don’t listen to anyone else.” When my in-laws heard, they rushed over to support their darling daughter. My father-in-law slammed his fist on the table. “This house belongs to the White family! My daughter can live here if she wants to! What right do you, an outsider, have to say anything?” My mother-in-law rolled her eyes. “We already allowed Brandon to marry you. What more do you want? Don’t think you can boss us around for the rest of your life just because you saved our daughter once. You don’t run this house!” Brianna twisted the knife. “Mom, Dad, you’re too kind! That arm of hers was probably useless before she even ‘saved’ me. She just found the perfect opportunity to blame it on our family.” I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “So, you’re angry that I saved you?” Brianna puffed out her chest, oozing confidence. “Of course! If you hadn’t grabbed me, I would have swung over and grabbed the main trunk myself.” She paused, then pushed Amber forward. “Besides, if you had just given the front seat to Amber, who gets carsick, she would have been able to grab me. Neither of us would have fallen out in the first place.” Finally, she delivered her verdict. “Amber is way smarter than you. She’s the one who should be my sister-in-law!” I turned to Brandon, who had been silent the whole time. “Is that what you think, too?” He didn’t answer directly, just rubbed his temples in frustration. “Zoe, that’s enough! My sister brought a friend to stay, is it really that big of a deal? When are you going to stop this drama? If you can’t handle it, then get a divorce and get out!” The last sliver of hope I had for a shred of comfort from him turned to ice. As if on cue, Brianna clapped her hands. “Yes, divorce! Get a divorce right now! I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses, brother!” She shoved Amber into his arms. “You two are perfect for each other! Maybe you can even give me a nephew tonight!” Brandon didn’t pull away. Amber burrowed into his chest and offered me a saccharine apology. “Zoe, I’m so sorry. Brianna is just joking.” For a second, I thought that despite her scheming, she had a shred of decency left. Then her tone shifted. “But, Zoe, let’s be real. You need to stop holding this ‘I saved her life’ thing over everyone’s heads. You already got the man. You should be focused on making him happy, not turning his home into a warzone. It’s heartbreaking to see him looking so drained all the time. You can only cash in on a debt of gratitude once. You can’t hold him hostage with it forever, can you?” Mr. and Mrs. White nodded vigorously, agreeing that I was an ungrateful troublemaker. With my crippled arm, I couldn’t even find a job, yet I refused to obediently serve my husband. Their son was the unluckiest man alive to have married me. It was five mouths against one. Finally, I lost control. I charged into the kitchen and came back with a butcher knife… My mind was a chaotic blur. All I remember now, after being reborn, is that in the end, I was the only one left standing. 02 The first words I heard in my new life were Brianna’s: she wished Amber was her sister-in-law. The righteous fury from my past life was gone. In its place was a genuine desire to grant her wish. I clapped my hands with a smile. “I second that!” To show my sincerity, I stood up. “Effective immediately, Brandon White and I are no longer in a relationship. For the rest of our lives, our paths will not cross—not for weddings, not for funerals, not for anything.” Brianna’s eyes lit up. “Let’s see you stick to that!” I nodded solemnly and raised three fingers. “If I don’t, may I be struck by lightning, hit by a car, and choke to death on a glass of water.” Brandon frowned, hissing at me under his breath. “Zoe, stop being ridiculous. Don’t sink to her level.” He was speaking to me, but his eyes were darting toward Amber, gauging her reaction. Amber just smiled and pinched Brianna’s arm. “Alright, Brianna, look what you did. You’ve cornered Zoe and left her with no way out.” “What way out does she need?” Brianna scoffed. “She’s just some country bumpkin. She doesn’t deserve our respect.” I was desperate to escape these toxic people, but I wasn’t going to crawl away with my tail between my legs. So, just like last time, I threw a glass of beer in Brianna’s face. Except this time, I didn’t just stand there waiting for her to retaliate. I moved first, grabbing a fistful of her hair from behind and yanking her head back, immobilizing her. Amber must have thought I was still the same impulsive but ultimately submissive Zoe from before. She rushed forward to help her friend, but a swift kick sent her sprawling to the ground. In my past life, I could take down a group of people with a knife in one hand. Now, with two perfectly good arms and legs, dealing with a two-faced schemer who wasn’t even fighting back seriously was child’s play. Brandon started to move toward me, but I stopped him with a sharp threat. “You’d better not move. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what might slip out of my mouth.” Brandon had a secret. To secure funding for his company, he’d been drugged by a male investor. It never went all the way, but there was a video. I was the one who got him out of that situation; it was how we met. He pursued me, claiming he was grateful for my kindness, but I knew the real reason was to keep me quiet. Of course, my looks were a major factor too. If I weren’t so hung up on him, his financial status at the time wouldn’t have even qualified him to be my boyfriend. That video was his deepest, darkest secret, something he would rather die than have exposed. He suspected I had a copy, so my words froze him in his tracks. His friends, who lived by the rule of not getting involved, had already backed away. Amber, who had been so smug just moments before, was now cowering behind Brandon like a frightened quail. As long as I wasn’t afraid to die, everyone else was. My entire demeanor was a world away from the last time. Brianna’s scalp was on fire, and she was wailing in pain. I kicked the back of her knees, forcing her to kneel before me. “I’m just curious,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “A person who barely scored a combined 150 on her college entrance exams—do you even know how to spell the word ‘country’?”

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I did five years in prison, taking the fall for my company. The day I got out, a lone G-Wagon was waiting outside the iron gates. My boss’s assistant cracked the window and tossed out an envelope with a single sentence. “Nina. Compliments of Mr. Price. Two hundred and fifty bucks.” “What’s this supposed to mean?” The assistant, Kevin, sneered. “The company’s about to ring the bell and go public. Mr. Price said, to keep things civil, this two-fifty is your bus fare. The farther you go, the better.” “Where is Victor? Where are the others?” “You really think the boss himself would come pick up an ex-con?” I scrolled through my social media feed. Pinned to the top was a photo of my boss on a yacht. Champagne, bikinis, and his fat, smiling face. The caption read: “The ship has cleared the storm. Grateful for shedding the dead weight five years ago.” I clutched the two hundred and fifty dollars and smiled, too. If you don’t want to be civil, then none of us will survive this. 1 The G-Wagon’s engine roared to life. Its tires spun, kicking up a spray of filthy water that splattered all over me. “Nina, the boss had one more message for you.” I brushed the mud from my clothes. “Spit it out.” “He said if you don’t keep your mouth shut, the mud on the ground will be your final resting place.” The window slid up. The taillights vanished down the road. When I finally made it back to my old apartment in the city’s tenement blocks, I froze on the third-floor landing. The familiar iron door was gone. In its place was a new security door, adorned with a festive sticker. I knocked for a long time, but no one answered. The neighbor across the hall, Mrs. Gable, peeked her head out. When she saw me, her jaw nearly hit the floor. “Nina? Is that you?” “Mrs. Gable, where’s my mom? What happened to our apartment?” She pulled me inside her apartment and locked the door, as if afraid of being seen. “Oh, you poor thing…” “Not six months after you went in, those men started coming.” “Every day, they were here. Splashing paint, leaving funeral wreaths, shouting through a megaphone that you were an embezzler.” “Your mother couldn’t take it. They told her you lost the company a fortune and she had to pay it back. They said if she didn’t, you’d be beaten to death in prison.” “So she sold the apartment?” My knuckles were white as I gripped her doorframe. “Sold it for nothing! They said it was to pay the debt, but those thugs took every last cent!” Mrs. Gable’s eyes were red with anger as she spoke. “Where is my mom now?” “She said she was going to rent a cheap place in the slums, to wait for you… I didn’t dare ask for the details.” Following Mrs. Gable’s vague directions, I made my way into the deepest, darkest corner of the slums. The air was thick with the stench of raw sewage. The door wasn’t locked. In fact, it wasn’t much of a door at all—just a rotting piece of plywood propped against the frame. I pushed it aside. The room was dark. An old woman was curled up on a filthy mattress she must have salvaged from the street. She was gnawing on half of a moldy bread roll. At the sound of my entry, she flinched violently, clutching the bread to her chest, her whole body trembling. “Don’t hit me… please, don’t hit me… I’m getting the money… I swear I am…” “Just please… don’t hurt my daughter…” I rushed forward and threw my arms around her. “Mom! It’s me! It’s Nina!” The body in my arms went rigid. She slowly lifted her head. Her left eye was a sunken pit, the eyeball shrunken and cloudy with a grayish-white film. “Who… who is it?” She reached out, her hand grasping at empty air. “It’s me, Mom. It’s Nina.” I took her hand and pressed it to my face, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Nina?” Her good eye twitched. Her hand fumbled across my face, from my forehead to my eyebrows, then down to my nose. When her fingers found the small mole on the bridge of my nose, she let out a gut-wrenching sob. “It’s really you… It’s really my daughter…” “Mom, what happened to your eye? And your leg…” “It’s nothing… I’m fine…” She tried to hide her leg under the thin blanket. I pulled it back. A grotesque lump protruded from her shinbone. “Victor Price did this, didn’t he?” I wasn’t stupid. My mother was silent for a long time before she finally spoke, her voice trembling. “Two years ago, I went to find them, to ask what really happened. I never believed you would steal…” “They hit you?” “They said I was in the way, that I blocked Mr. Price’s car… A security guard pushed me, and I fell down a flight of stairs… We had no money for a doctor, so… it healed crooked.” “And your eye?” “From crying…” I said nothing. I saw the words “PAY UP” spray-painted in red on the wall and knew the whole story. “Where’s Dad?” My mother’s sobs stopped abruptly. “Two years ago… there was no money for his dialysis… He’s gone.” “Nina, you must be hungry.” My mother tried to press the moldy bread into my hand. Victor Price. This is what you meant when you promised to “take care of her like your own mother”? I clutched the stale bread, looked at my mother’s broken body, and gritted my teeth. “Mom, I’m going to buy some medicine. And I’m going to get back what’s ours.” 02 I tucked two hundred dollars under her pillow and, with the remaining fifty, walked to the Price Holdings tower. I had chosen the location for this building. I had secured the loans. Now, it was a place I couldn’t even enter. “What do you want? Scrap collectors use the back entrance,” a security guard said, swinging his baton and eyeing me dismissively. “I’m here to see Victor Price.” “You think you can use the CEO’s name like that? Do you have an appointment?” “I’m Nina Shaw.” “Nina who? Never heard of you. Get lost.” The lobby was bustling with people. Dressed as I was, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I ignored him and tried to walk past. “Hey! You asking for it?” The guard grabbed my arm and twisted it hard. A sharp pain shot through me, but I bit my lip and didn’t cry out. I used his momentum, dropping into a squat to break his grip. The guard was momentarily stunned, clearly not expecting me to know how to defend myself. Enraged, he motioned for his partner to help him restrain me. “Stop.” The sharp click-clack of high heels echoed on the marble floor. The elevator doors opened, and a group of executives walked out. The woman in the lead wore a designer suit, her makeup flawless. The limited-edition Hermès bag in her hand was a gift from me, years ago. It was my former protégée, Amber Reed. “Well, well. If it isn’t my old mentor.” Amber stopped and took off her sunglasses. “What happened to you? I thought you were a homeless person.” Employees nearby slowed their pace, whispering amongst themselves. “Is that the former CFO? The one who went to prison?” “The embezzler, right? So shameless, coming back here.” I stared at Amber. “The shares Victor promised me, and my mother’s medical bills. Pay up.” “Mentor, you’re hilarious.” Amber took a step closer. She lowered her voice. “The world has changed in the five years you’ve been away.” “Victor is a billionaire now. You really think he’s going to see an ex-con?” “That’s my money.” “Yours?” Amber laughed, her perfectly styled hair bouncing. “Where’s your proof? That little agreement we had?” “Burned long ago. The books are clean now. I did them myself.” “Everything you taught me? I do it better.” She took a step back and raised her voice. “Security, be more vigilant from now on. Don’t let just any riffraff in here. If something happens, who’s going to take responsibility?” Kevin, the assistant who’d given me the money, came running out, pointing at me. “That’s right! She’s just here to extort us! Throw her out!” Two guards grabbed me, one on each side. “You’ll regret this, Amber,” I said, my eyes locked on hers. “Regret it?” Amber looked down at me. “I live in a penthouse and drive a Porsche. What do I have to regret? You, on the other hand, look like a stray dog.” “Consider this one last piece of advice from your mentor: shut your mouth and walk away.” “If the company wasn’t in the middle of its IPO, with so many eyes on us, do you really think you’d still be walking around?” Kevin waved his phone at me. “Leave now, or we call the cops. They can send you right back where you came from. This time, it’ll be for extortion and causing a public disturbance. That’s another few years for you.” Amber shot him an annoyed glance. “Why are you wasting your breath on her? Security, throw her out!” My body was lifted off the ground and then slammed onto the concrete outside. A torrential downpour started, soaking me to the bone in seconds. Amber stood behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at me. Through the glass, I could read her lips. “Useless.” I wiped the rain from my face. A mixture of blood and mud trickled into my mouth, tasting of salt and rust. 03 I didn’t leave. I went around to the building’s underground garbage depot. A crumpled invitation. Half of a burnt itinerary. A few empty bottles of Evian water. I spent my last fifty dollars on a second-hand janitor’s uniform. Wearing the foul-smelling clothes, I slipped into the city’s most extravagant and exclusive private club. No one stopped me. Outside the top-floor suite, bodyguards lined the hallway. The heavy, soundproofed doors couldn’t contain the raucous noise from within. “To Mr. Price! That was a brilliant move, shedding your old skin!” I pulled my cap down low and pushed my cleaning cart forward. “Collecting empty bottles.” A bodyguard glanced at me. “Get in, get out. No dawdling.” The door opened. Victor Price was flanked by two women. His business partner, Marcus, sat beside him with a famous starlet in his lap. Amber was there too, pouring Victor a drink. A banner scrolled across a large screen: “Celebrating Our IPO, and Getting Rid of Old Baggage!” I pushed my cart into the center of the room. “Mr. Price,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “The old baggage is here to offer congratulations.” The air in the room froze. The music was still playing, but everyone had fallen silent. All eyes were on me. Victor’s glass stopped halfway to his lips. He squinted at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look who it is.” “Our greatest contributor, the one and only Director Shaw.” He put down his glass. “What’s the matter? Didn’t like the food upstate? Came here looking for scraps?” Marcus pushed the starlet off his lap. “What bad luck. Security! How did a beggar get in here?” I ignored Marcus. My eyes were fixed on Victor. “My mother’s leg. And the 30% equity payout we agreed on.” “Two million. The money hits my account, and I disappear.” Victor stood up. He walked over until he was standing right in front of me. “Two million?” he sneered. He turned to Amber. “Amber, our Director Shaw wants two million. Should we give it to her?” Amber glided over, a full glass of red wine in her hand. “Mr. Price, our mentor just got out. She’s a bit… ripe. I think she needs a wash.” Splash. The entire glass of wine was poured over my head. The sticky liquid ran down my hair, into my eyes, and into my mouth. The room erupted in laughter. “Hahaha! A good wash!” “Much cleaner now!” I wiped my face. Victor pointed to the wine stain on the expensive carpet. He pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket. At least ten thousand dollars. He threw it onto the stain. “Nina,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t say I don’t remember the good old days.” “You always liked things clean, didn’t you?” “Lick the wine off the floor. This ten grand is yours.” The laughter stopped. Everyone was waiting for the show. I looked at the money on the floor. Slowly, I bent down, my hands on the carpet. My face was just inches from the stain. Just as I was about to touch the carpet, BAM! A leather shoe slammed into my shoulder. The force sent me flying backward, my head cracking against the corner of a table. A sharp pain exploded in the back of my skull. Victor pulled his foot back, his face a mask of disgust. “Fucking disgusting.” “I told you to lick it, and you actually were going to do it?” “Nina, when did you become so pathetic?” He picked up the money and tossed it onto a sofa. “You’re not getting a single cent from me.” “Throw her out.” Seven or eight bodyguards swarmed me, lifting me up like a piece of trash and dragging me toward the service exit. I didn’t fight back. I just stared at Victor’s fat, smug face. “Victor,” I said, my voice cold and clear. “You are going to beg me.” “You are going to get on your knees and beg me.” Victor roared with laughter, grabbing a handful of melon seeds and throwing them in my face. “Me? Beg you? Nina, did prison fry your brain?” For the second time that night, I was thrown out into the rain. Before I could even catch my breath, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Is this Nina Shaw? Your mother was frightened by a burst pipe. She’s in cardiac arrest and we’re trying to resuscitate her. A family member needs to come to the hospital immediately to pay the deposit.” “Can you please just save her? I’ll get the money.” “I’m sorry, it’s hospital policy. The system is locked. We can’t proceed without payment.” “Okay…!” I didn’t even have five hundred dollars. As soon as I hung up, a text from Kevin popped up. “How was the wine tonight? The boss says you should know your place. Take your old hag and get out of this city. Or this is just the beginning.” It was followed by a countdown timer emoji. Years ago, my father needed half a million for a kidney transplant. Victor Price slapped the money on the table in exchange for me taking the fall for a twenty-million-dollar hole in the company’s finances. “Nina, you take this hit for us, and the company will cover your father’s surgery, and I’ll take care of your mother for the rest of her life.” I traded five years of my freedom and my entire future for my father’s life. And what was the result? My father died waiting for the money. My mother was blind and crippled. Victor, since you won’t give me what you owe, I’ll just take it myself.

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