Eight-year-old Leo was in a car accident and urgently needed Rh-negative blood. My husband, David, turned quickly to the doctor. “I know someone with Rh-negative. I’ll call her right now.” I slammed the divorce papers against David’s chest. “She can come. But you sign these first.” He crumpled the papers. “Scarlett, are you insane? Our son is fighting for his life, and you’re doing this now?” I met his gaze, my voice cold. “Yes.” My mother-in-law rushed forward, hand raised to slap me. “You heartless bastard! You’d really let your own son die?” I only smiled. Then I walked to the ER door. “Doctor! Halt all the preparations. This family refuses consent for the transfusion and the surgery!” The doctors and nurses stared at us, their movements frozen. The air in the ER corridor grew thick, heavy, broken only by the low hum of medical machines. David pointed a finger at my face, his eyes bloodshot. “Scarlett. Say that again.” “I said, stop the surgery.” My voice was low, unnervingly clear in the silence. My mother-in-law snapped out of her daze and lunged for me again. David caught her, locking his arms around her waist. She clawed at the empty air between us, screaming. “You monster! Leo is still in there! Your own flesh and blood! How can you say that?” I simply watched her, saying nothing. David held his struggling mother, snarling at me. “What the hell do you want? Is it because I called Chloe that you’re acting like this? There’s nothing going on between us! She just happens to have Rh-negative blood, and I didn’t want you to suffer again!” “You didn’t want me to suffer?” I asked him. “David, do you even believe that yourself?” My question choked him, his face twisting in an ugly grimace. “Is this really the time for this? Leo’s life is what matters most! Whatever grievances you have, we can talk about them after the surgery, when we’re home!” “Home?” I looked at him. “David, we don’t have a home anymore.” I held out the divorce papers again. “Sign them. I’ve already arranged for a blood bank and several volunteers. As soon as you sign, they’ll be on their way. There will be enough blood for Leo’s surgery.” My mother-in-law’ stopped sobbing. Both she and David stared at me as if I were insane. “To force me into a divorce, you’d even abandon our son’s life?” David ground out, each word bitten off. “I said, sign, and the blood will arrive.” I didn’t back down. Other patient families began to gather, whispering and pointing at me. “What’s wrong with that woman? She’s so cruel.” “Right? Even animals protect their young. Her husband didn’t want her to donate blood because he cared about her, and she’s using the child’s life to threaten him into divorce.” The murmurs and accusations washed over me, but I felt nothing. David watched me, his chest heaving. “Fine, Scarlett. You’re ruthless.” He released his mother, snatched the papers and pen from my hand, and scrawled his signature a few times before throwing the document back at my chest. “Satisfied now? Can we save our son?” I picked up the papers from the floor, confirmed his signature, and tucked them into my bag. Then I turned to the doctor nearby. “You can prepare for the surgery now. The blood will be here as soon as possible.” With that, I turned and walked away. David yelled after me. “Where are you going? You’re not staying for Leo’s surgery?” I didn’t look back. “His life or death is no longer my concern.”

As I exited the hospital, a car screeched to a halt in front of me. The door opened, and a woman in a white dress hurried out, her face etched with anxiety. It was Chloe. She saw me, paused, then asked urgently. “Scarlett, how’s Leo? David called me, said something happened to the baby.” I looked at her, the woman who had hovered around David for ten years. “He’ll live.” I spat out the three words, moving to walk around her. Chloe seized my wrist, her eyes rimmed with red. “Scarlett, I know you’ve always misunderstood the bond between David and me. But right now, Leo is all that matters. Please don’t blame David. He’s just so worried about you.” Her voice was soft, yet perfectly pitched to reach every onlooker. An elderly woman immediately began to berate me. “What kind of wife are you? She’s speaking reason to you, and you stand there with such darkness in your eyes. To abandon your own son-have you no conscience?” Chloe quickly turned to the woman, pleading. “Please, don’t say that. Scarlett is just very tired.” The more she played the role of the compassionate one, the more wicked I appeared. I yanked my hand free. “Don’t touch me.” Chloe stumbled, tears welling up. “I’m sorry, Scarlett, I didn’t mean to.” David rushed out of the hospital at that moment, saw the scene, and immediately pushed Chloe behind him. He glared at me, furious. “Scarlett! Haven’t you caused enough trouble? Chloe came here out of kindness for Leo, why are you taking your rage out on her?” My mother-in-law followed him out, and seeing Chloe, she seemed to find her savior, grasping Chloe’s hand. “Oh, you good girl, you’re finally here! Go see Leo, that venomous woman has abandoned him! We only have you now!” Chloe, while comforting my mother-in-law, spoke to David. “David, don’t blame Scarlett. She must just be overwhelmed.” The three of them stood together, a picture of a loving family. And I, I was the unwanted villain, the cruel outsider. I looked at them, and my ten-year marriage felt like a cruel joke. I said nothing more, hailed a taxi, and left. Even after the car drove a long distance, I could still see David holding Chloe, and my mother-in-law wiping away tears in the rearview mirror. Back home, I started packing my things. This house was mine, bought before marriage, registered in my name. For ten years, I had turned it into a home, but in the end, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth here that belonged to me. That evening, I received a call from my mom. The moment I answered, a barrage of scolding erupted. “Scarlett! Have you gone mad? Leo was in such a terrible car accident, and you chose to divorce his father at the hospital? You and your dad have brought such shame upon us!” “Mom, I-” “Don’t call me Mom! I don’t have such a heartless daughter!” My mom’s voice was shrill. “David told me everything. He didn’t want you to donate blood because he cares about you. You nearly bled to death when you gave birth to Leo, and your health has never been the same since. How ungrateful can you be!” I clutched my phone, unable to utter a single word. “You go to the hospital right now! Apologize to David, and go see Leo! If you still recognize me as your mother, then go!” The call ended. I stared at the dark screen of my phone, my heart clutched as if by an unseen hand. When I gave birth to Leo, I truly almost died. But none of them knew why I had hemorrhaged so badly.

I didn’t go to the hospital. The next day, David brought my parents to my place. The moment I opened the door, my dad’s hand shot out, connecting with my face. “You monster! You dare show your face here!” He was trembling with rage. “Leo had a high fever last night, crying for his mom, and where were you? Is your heart made of stone?” My mom, supporting my dad, cried as she spoke to me. “Scarlett, please come to the hospital with us. The child is innocent. Even if you and David have issues, you can’t take it out on the child.” David stood behind them, looking at me with a pained expression. “Darling, I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have called Chloe. Please come back with me? Leo needs you.” He acted so genuinely that even my parents believed him. I covered my stinging cheek, looking at the three of them. “Are you done talking?” My dad froze. “What kind of attitude is that?” “If you’re done, then leave. I need to rest.” I pointed to the door. “You!” My dad raised his hand, intending to strike me again, but my mom held him back tightly. David also stepped forward, shielding me. “Uncle, please don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. I didn’t handle things well, and I hurt Scarlett.” He turned, his eyes red, looking at me. “Darling, you can hit me or yell at me, but please don’t abandon me and Leo. We’ve been together for so many years, how can you just throw it all away?” He reached for my hand, but I stepped back, avoiding his touch. “David, stop acting. Aren’t you tired?” David’s face stiffened for a moment, then was replaced by an even greater sorrow. “Scarlett, how did you become like this? You weren’t like this before. You used to love Leo so much; you’d do anything to give him the best.” “Yes,” I nodded. “I used to be quite foolish.” My parents, seeing my imperviousness to reason, were utterly disappointed. My mom, tears streaming down her face, said. “Scarlett, if you insist on this divorce, then don’t ever set foot in our home again. We’ll pretend we never had a daughter like you.” My dad pointed at David and declared. “From now on, David is our true son!” I looked at them, and the last flicker of warmth in my heart vanished. “Fine.” That single word made my parents and David freeze. They probably thought that by threatening me with family ties, I would compromise. Just like every other time in the past ten years. Unfortunately, this time, they were wrong. After seeing them off, I received a call from my lawyer. “Ms. Scarlett, David’s side has received the court summons. But he leaked to the media, claiming you abused Leo and, due to marital disputes, refused to give him a blood transfusion, leaving him critically ill.” I opened my phone. The news was everywhere. “Wealthy Wife’s Cruel Jealousy: ‘I Won’t Save My Own Son!’” “Where Is a Mother’s Love? Heartbroken 8-Year-Old: ‘Mommy Doesn’t Want Me Anymore!’” The comment sections were a blaze of fury. My photos, workplace, and home address were all exposed. A group of self-proclaimed activists had gathered downstairs at my company, holding banners, demanding I be fired. Soon, I received a call from my boss, who told me not to come into work for a while. That afternoon, Chloe called me. Her voice sounded gentle and innocent. “Scarlett, please don’t blame David. He was just pushed to his limit by you.” “Leo isn’t doing well; he needs his mom. Can you… please come back and see him?” “What standing do you have to call me?” I asked. A few seconds of silence on the other end. “I… I’m Leo’s aunt, and your friend.” “Friend?” I laughed. “Chloe, are you even worthy of that title?” With that, I hung up. Not long after, my phone buzzed with a photo from Chloe. In it, Leo lay in a hospital bed. Chloe was bending over him, gently wiping his face. David and his mother stood close by, watching them with tender, doting looks. The scene was a picture of perfect harmony, so bright it stung the eyes. Beneath it was a message: “Scarlett, we’re all waiting for you to come back.”

On the day of the hearing, the courtroom was packed. There were media reporters, social activists, and all our so-called relatives and friends. They were all there to see me utterly destroyed. David arrived with Leo and Chloe. Leo sat in a wheelchair, his face pale, his arm still in a cast. Seeing me, Leo’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Mommy, please don’t divorce Daddy, okay? It’s all Leo’s fault. Leo won’t get sick anymore.” He cried so pitifully, drawing gasps of sympathy from the spectators. My mother-in-law wailed dramatically, pointing at me and cursing. “You bring nothing but bad luck! A curse on husband and son! What did our family do to deserve a creature like you?” David held Leo, looking every bit the tragic, good husband. “Scarlett, even now, are you still going to be so stubborn? For your own sake, are you really going to throw away Leo’s future?” Chloe stood beside him, timely offering a tissue and gently comforting him. I watched their little family act, my face expressionless. David’s lawyer rose and began to recite my list of “failures.” From forgetting our anniversary gift to not cooking for my mother-in-law’s birthday, to my “deliberate refusal to act” when Leo was in the car accident. Each point painted me as the selfish, heartless villain. Finally, the lawyer presented a hospital report. “Your Honor, due to the defendant’s delay, the plaintiff’s son, Leo, suffered cerebral hypoxia. This could result in permanent neurological damage.” “Furthermore, the defendant has subjected the child to sustained emotional abuse, causing severe psychological harm. We request full custody be granted to Mr. David, and that the defendant be ordered to pay one million dollars in emotional damages.” The judge looked at me, his expression heavy with judgment. “Defendant, how do you respond to the plaintiff’s claims?” Every eye in the room fixed on me, waiting. I stood. I didn’t look at David, but at Chloe in the witness stand. “I’d like to ask Ms. Chloe a question.”

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I left the bedroom door ajar on purpose, so my husband could hear me making out with my lover all night. The next morning, his eyes were full of anger as he pinned me against the bed, demanding answers. “Did he even satisfy you? How many times did he really touch your body? Why not me?” But I just tightened my silk robe, covering the marks on my skin, and threw his own question back at him. “Aren’t we just playing the same game? Has your little nurse, Tiffany, stopped satisfying you?” Julian Grant’s eyes burned red, but he had nothing to say. Our marriage died the day he caused our daughter’s death. The wind bit through me as I drove alone to the suburban cemetery to visit our daughter. Passing the lot where my father’s clinic once stood, tears blurred my vision. I had been the youngest, most promising doctor at the Academy. I gave up a place at a top-tier institution for Julian. The year the malpractice lawsuit hit, an angry mob of patients’ relatives nearly beat him to death. My father sold the clinic he’d built over thirty years and emptied his savings to bury the legal case. To secure Julian’s position at City General, he handed over a lifetime of surgical notes, contacts, and professional reputation. He even joined a drug trial Julian was running, just to support his research. It cost him his liver. He didn’t survive. That was how Julian became the youngest Chief of Surgery in the city. I was naive enough to believe t to believe a debt like that would be honored for life. But after he brought the nurse, Tiffany, into our home, everything changed. The man who once worried if I so much as frowned was now tearing my heart apart with his own hands. I’ll never forget it. My mother was dying of lung cancer, desperate for an imported drug. But Julian, to cheer up Tiffany, gave the only available dose to her ragdoll cat for a skin rash. And I’ll never forget the day our daughter stopped breathing. Julian was in Tiffany’s hospital room, tangled up with her. I finally found my daughter’s niche in the cheapest public cemetery. A tiny, desolate space-not even a photo to mark her. When darkness fell, I sat on the cold tile floor. Just as I used to when lulling her to sleep, I hummed Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star through the night. I woke up the next morning to a chorus of shouting. Blinking my eyes open, I found a crowd of neighbors circled around me, phones raised and recording. “That’s her! Dr. Grant’s mad wife!” “Nurse Tiffany said she went berserk last night-destroyed the whole community garden!” “Those flowers were just planted by the management. They cost a fortune!” “What a vicious woman. No wonder Dr. Grant keeps her locked away!” Julian stepped forward through the crowd. His face was a mask of pained regret. “Neighbors, I apologize. It’s my failure. My wife has been unwell. Emotionally unstable. Misunderstandings led to this. I will cover every loss. Please, don’t hold it against her.” With those words, he sealed my fate as the “madwoman.” I stared at the man I had loved with my entire life, trembling with a rage so deep it felt cold. “Julian, you’re lying. I never left the cemetery last night!” “Still making excuses!” A security guard held up his phone. “The security footage shows a woman from behind. She’s wearing exactly what you have on now!” “That madwoman is a curse. Even her daughter’s grave is tainted!” “Get that urn out of here! Don’t pollute our cemetery!” I lunged to stop them, but several men forced me down, pinning me to the ground. My face pressed against the cold tile, tears cutting through the grime on my cheeks. All that escaped my throat were choked, guttural cries. They pried open the small niche and pulled out the black urn. I fought wildly. The box fell and struck the floor. The lid flew off. Pale gray ashes spilled out. A sudden gust swept through, lifting the dust into a swirling cloud. I could only watch, helpless, as the last trace of my daughter in this world simply…drifted away. The crowd muttered and dispersed. Julian slowly walked over. He looked at me with complex eyes. “Audrey, you’ve always been the strongest… it’s just a place for ashes. I’ll buy a better burial plot later…” “You know how delicate Tiffany is, how sheltered she’s been. What you did yesterday-sprinkling that powdered medicine into her soup-went too far.” I gritted my teeth, every word tasting of blood. “My daughter’s last remains in this world…were those ashes..” “I understand.” He sighed. “But if I don’t reassure Tiffany this way, what if her depression returns? What if it harms the baby she’s carrying? Audrey, you should understand my position.” He paused, his voice softening slightly. “Audrey, you need to be strong.”

Strong? What a joke! My dad died of liver failure after participating in a clinical trial to help Julian develop a new drug. To keep him from feeling guilty, I forced myself to handle my father’s funeral arrangements alone, without shedding a single tear. When my mom was in the final stages of lung cancer, he gave the only life-saving imported drug to Tiffany’s cat. Before she passed, my mother gripped my hand and whispered, “Julian…might have his own burdens. Don’t resent him…” My throat closed. My eyes burned. I swallowed every tear. But all that pain I  carried, all the humiliation I endured, all the tears I never cried… In his eyes, they were just reasons for me to be “strong”? I laughed, my whole body trembling. “Julian, is Tiffany’s mood more important than my daughter’s ashes?” “Can’t you stop making such a big deal out of it? She didn’t mean it.” It was always the same. I was always the one at fault. It was just like before: I simply pointed out that she was giving a patient the wrong medication. Furious at my defiance, Julian locked me in the basement for a year. “Audrey, it’s been a year. Have you learned your lesson?” When Julian opened the basement door again, the outside light cut into my eyes. Tiffany, visibly pregnant, walked over, pretending to help me. “Be careful, Audrey. The basement’s damp, don’t fall.” Fall? I almost laughed. The day he locked me in, a year ago, our daughter had just died. I had knelt then, clutching Julian’s pant leg, my forehead bleeding from begging against the floor. “Please, save Lily! I swear I’ll never oppose Tiffany again!” He looked down at me, his eyes cold as a scalpel. “Audrey, you’re ill. How could Tiffany harm our child? You’re the one who’s lost your mind.” He held the trembling, sobbing Tiffany, his voice sickeningly gentle. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll lock her up. No one will hurt you again.” I saw a tenderness in his eyes I’d never witnessed before, and my blood ran cold. “Julian! My daughter is dead!!” My response was the thud of a lock clicking shut. To get out sooner and bury my daughter, I didn’t cry or make a fuss. But as my daughter’s body began to decompose in the hospital morgue, Tiffany, while I was asleep, had someone send the body directly to the crematorium. I hammered on the door like a madwoman, my throat hoarse from screaming. “Julian! That’s your daughter! How could you let her be cremated without even a proper goodbye!!” My palms bled from pounding, and what I got in return were rats, infected and scurrying, thrown in through the vent in the middle of the night. They bit my feet, tore at my fingers. I huddled in the corner, wounds infected and inflamed, feverishly ill. “Is Audrey doing okay?” Tiffany’s voice pulled me back to reality. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, looked up at Julian, my voice hoarse. “Where are Lily’s ashes?” No one answered. My heart sank. I stumbled toward the nursery on the second floor, The room I had decorated myself when I was pregnant. The closer I got, the more my heart ached. But the moment I pushed open the door, I froze. The room was filled with lingerie, whips, and handcuffs. The walls were covered with nude oil paintings of Tiffany. My fingers dug into the door frame, knuckles white. Julian’s footsteps sounded behind me, his tone impatient. “I didn’t let you out to cause trouble.” “The dead cannot return; can’t you just move on?” “No!” I spun around and slapped him across the face. “Is this filthy place how you explain yourself to our daughter?! Julian, do you deserve to be a father?!” “I just want to know, where are her ashes?” When I mentioned our daughter, his eyes darted away. “Tiffany’s pregnant and emotionally unstable, so I painted some pictures to cheer her up…” “She has prenatal depression, I couldn’t help it.” “Couldn’t help it?” When Tiffany moved into my house, neighbors whispered and pointed, but he pretended not to see, saying he couldn’t help it. Tiffany put peanut powder, which I am severely allergic to, in my soup; I went into shock and was rushed to the ER, but he turned a blind eye, saying he couldn’t help it. Tiffany caused our daughter’s death, and he protected her, saying he couldn’t help it. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. “All these ‘couldn’t help it’s almost killed me.” I stormed into the room, grabbed a bucket of paint, and hurled it at the paintings. “Audrey, are you insane?! What has Tiffany ever done to you?!” Julian grabbed my wrist, but suddenly froze. Beneath my sleeve, my arms were covered in festering wounds. “What… how did you get these? I explicitly ordered them to bring you food every day, to take good care of you…” “I’m perfectly fine.” “You can just kneel here until you’ve truly reflected. Then you can come back.” Julian’s cold voice snapped me back, and I pressed my lips together, unable to say a word.

I knelt on the ground, my forehead resting against my daughter’s tiny headstone, crying my heart out. “You look so pathetic.” Tiffany’s voice drifted from behind me. “She’s already like this, why can’t she just get the hint, divorce him, and get lost?” She stood before me, visibly pregnant, wearing a victor’s smirk. “But you reaching this point? It was all my design, step by step.” She crouched down, leaning close to my ear, her voice laced with a smile. “I personally dragged your daughter out of the morgue and threw her into that stray dog den on the west side of the city.” “I watched those dogs… tear her apart piece by piece. It was so satisfying.” She paused, her tone laced with a sickening pride. “Do you know what Dr. Grant did that night, when I came home, covered in blood and the stench of death?” “He held me… and ravished me all night.” “You bastard! You witch!” I shrieked, scrambling to my feet, my hands clamping tightly around her throat. I would kill her! Avenge my daughter! Tiffany’s face flushed dark, but her smile never wavered. “Serves you right.” Her hand closed around the handle of a shovel leaning nearby. She swung it hard into my back. A white-hot pain exploded through me, and my vision went black. A year in the basement had already broken my body.. I collapsed to the ground like a ragdoll, unable to move. I don’t know how long it was before she crouched beside me again, dangling something in her hand. A soft, chilling chime. My pupils shrank- Three years ago, before Julian’s heart surgery. I flew to the Philippines, nearly died diving the depths, all to gather those golden pearls. I polished each one myself. Tiffany’s smile was cruel. “Remember these? I should thank you, really.” “Dr. Grant loved using them during our nights…slipping them, one by one, over my skin…” “He said it let him feel your devotion.” That raw, life-risking devotion I had once offered now felt like poison-tipped boomerangs, each one flying back to pierce my heart. A sharp, sickening pain twisted through me. “Get out! Tiffany, get out of my sight!” Her eyes were cold, her words venomous and ruthless. “Audrey, you deserve to die!” My vision went black, and I collapsed.

When I woke again, I was bound in an abandoned warehouse. The rough nylon ropes chafed my wrists, burning with pain. My heart tightened, and I tried to struggle free. A man with a scar across his face walked over and kicked the metal shelf beside me. “Don’t bother. If Julian is smart, he’ll send over the original copy of that medical notebook your dad left behind, and we’ll let you go.” That notebook was Julian’s lifeblood-it contained all my father’s lifelong work. He always kept it locked in a bank safe; no one was allowed to touch it. My heart ached, but I felt no expectation that Julian would come. Too many expectations had been shattered; I no longer dared to hope. After an unknown period, the screech of tires echoed from outside. Scarface grinned. “Dr. Grant is quite fast. Where’s the stuff?” Julian stepped out of the car, his brows furrowed. He was about to signal his assistant to hand over the file, Suddenly, his phone rang, a sharp, insistent sound. He impatiently reached to hang up, but then his gaze softened as he saw the caller ID, and he answered. The nurse’s excited voice came through the phone. “Dr. Grant! Miss Tiffany’s water broke prematurely, she’s hemorrhaging badly, and she keeps calling your name!” Julian froze. He turned to look at me, his lips moving. “Audrey…” A bodyguard rushed forward to intervene. “Mr. Grant! Mrs. Grant’s life is genuinely in danger here! Miss Tiffany has doctors at the hospital…” “Shut up!” Julian’s face was grim. “I’m leaving this to you. Make sure you protect my wife.” He looked at me, his eyes complex. “Audrey, you’ve always been able to get through things… you know, Tiffany can’t do without me now…” “But Mr. Grant…” Before the bodyguard could finish, Julian had already turned and climbed back into the car. The car sped away. My heart was completely numb. Was my life truly that worthless to him? One bodyguard. One bound woman. What chance did we have against desperate men like these? Scarface eagerly tore open the envelope. After flipping through a few pages, his face darkened. “Damn it! You dare try to fool me with forgeries?!” He snatched up a steel pipe from beside him, his glare burning into me. “Your man played dirty. Don’t blame me for what comes next!” I thought perhaps, after a year so close to death, that when the end truly came, I’d feel nothing but calm. When your heart dies completely, even fear disappears. The pipe cut through the air with a whine. I closed my eyes. Bang. The warehouse door burst open. Blinding headlights cut through the dark, a dozen black SUVs sealing every exit. A voice I knew too well cut through the silence. “Let’s see who dares lay a hand on her today.”

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My husband, Julian, was a genetic elitist. He looked down on me for graduating from community college, claimed my genes were inferior, and insisted on having a child with his stepsister, an Ivy League graduate. Three months into my pregnancy, they forced me to terminate it. My uterus cramped, bleeding heavily, and I begged him through tears to take me to the hospital. He watched, cold and detached. “It’s for the best. That child’s genes weren’t worthy of mine.” His stepsister, Vivian, tried to console me. “You should be grateful! You’ll get to help raise a child of superior lineage. It’s a privilege.” They would discuss intimate fertility details in eight different languages right in front of me. What they never knew was that I understood every word. The day Vivian’s pregnancy was confirmed, Julian went to church himself to pray for the “genius” in her womb. That same day, I left a signed divorce agreement and never looked back. There was one secret I had never told Julian. He and Vivian would never have a high-IQ child.

As I was wheeled out of the operating room, I heard Julian ask the doctor about safe birth control. “Your wife is very fertile, Mr. Davies. Both barrier and hormonal methods carry risks. If you’re certain you want no more children, I’d recommend…” The doctor’s tone was careful, almost regretful. Julian took my hand, his eyes full of practiced concern. “Maya, let me have the surgery with you. Vivian’s baby will be yours too, someday. I just can’t bear to watch you go through this again.” The cramps in my abdomen still twisted like knives. I stared at him, empty. Tears began to fall, sudden and silent. Julian had hated our child that much. When he found out I was three months pregnant, he erupted in uncharacteristic rage and forced me to take the pills. Just yesterday, he had been meticulously reminding Vivian to take her prenatal folic acid and maintain a light exercise routine. His voice then had been soft, full of anticipation. “The fusion of our genetics will produce the world’s healthiest, brightest child.” Julian, for the sake of your child, are you truly prepared to strip me of my chance to be a mother? A tearing pain in my heart made it hard to breathe. I closed my eyes, my voice chilling. “If you can’t bear to see me suffer, why don’t you get the surgery yourself?” Julian went still, staring at me as if he didn’t recognize me. “Maya, you were the one who wanted a child. I was only granting your wish.” He let out a short, cold laugh. “Besides, what kind of brilliant child could a mother who only attended community college possibly raise?” “Vivian has been exceptionally clever since childhood and studied abroad for years. Wouldn’t a child inheriting her superior genes be a far better fit than one from you?” Before I could retort, his phone suddenly rang. Julian’s expression softened instantly. “I’ll go ask the doctor for some recovery medication.” With that, he hurried away. I could hear Vivian’s sweet, cooing voice from the phone. “Julian, my feet hurt so much! Can you come get me?” “I told you to stop wearing high heels all the time,” Julian said, his voice laced with indulgence. “Take your shoes off. I’ll come carry you.” My heart clenched painfully. The first time I attended a Davies family gala, I was terrified of embarrassing Julian. My high heels had chafed my heels raw, but I didn’t dare say a word. Every step felt like I was walking on razor blades. Julian watched my discomfort with cold eyes, then reprimanded me mercilessly. “If you can’t handle them, don’t force it. From now on, you don’t need to come to these kinds of events.” Back then, I was foolish enough to think he was showing concern in his own cold way. But now, witnessing his blatant favoritism toward Vivian, I realized it had always been my own wishful thinking. Soon after, Julian entered, carrying Vivian on his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning as she greeted me. “Don’t laugh at me, Maya. Julian’s just worried I walked too much, so he carried me up.” I closed my eyes, ignoring her completely. The atmosphere grew awkward. Vivian’s eyes instantly welled up. Julian’s face darkened, his voice filled with displeasure. “Maya! If you have a temper, take it out on me, not Vivian!” “Julian! Maya just lost her child, she’s grieving,” Vivian said, feigning sympathy, pinching his arm. Then she turned to comfort me. “Maya, genes are natural. You mustn’t feel insecure, okay?” “Julian not wanting your child was actually for your own good. Davies children are born to be exceptionally privileged. With a mother like you, they might never be able to hold their heads high.” Her voice was soft and gentle, yet every word felt like a sharp blade twisting in my gut. I snapped my eyes open, staring at her with chilling intensity. Vivian maintained an expression of concern, as if she genuinely had my best interests at heart, acting as if her relationship with Julian was nothing more than normal step-siblings. But I knew she had always been madly in love with him. When Vivian’s mother married into the family, Vivian had cried as she smashed our family portrait, screaming in anguish. “I don’t want to be his sister! I want to marry him too!” Later, Julian married me, and she, in a fit of pique, left the country, not returning for years. Vivian flinched under my gaze, her composure faltering. She pouted, wiping away feigned tears. “Maya, if you’re upset, hit me, yell at me, just don’t give me the silent treatment!”

The moment she cried, Julian became a ticking time bomb. He barely suppressed his fury, stepping forward and gripping my wrist fiercely, with enough force to shatter bone. I cried out in pain. “Maya, Vivian has tolerated so much from you, and you still deliberately make things difficult for her! Do you have any dignity as the Davies family’s eldest daughter-in-law?!” A heavy stone seemed to weigh down my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I struggled, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably, and couldn’t help but shout. “Fine! If that’s how it is, then give the title of Mrs. Davies to her!” Julian’s face turned frighteningly dark, his chest heaving, his eyes burning as if he wanted to tear me apart. “You can be as crazy as you want, but if you ruin Vivian’s reputation, I’ll make your life a living hell!” He spat the threat, threw my hand away, and, with an arm around Vivian, stormed out. I collapsed back onto the bed, a bitter ache spreading through my heart. That night, Vivian posted a picture on Ins. A man embraced her from behind, his distinctively jointed hands clasped over her lower abdomen. The caption read: “Anticipating the arrival of a wondrous little life.” I instinctively touched my own empty abdomen. It had just been cut open by cold blades, scraped and hollowed out, aching with fresh blood. Then, another update refreshed on my feed – a video. In the warm hotel lighting, Julian was intently studying a recipe, preparing a special “Five Red Soup” for her “cold uterus.” Vivian lay on the bed, sweetly bragging. “He said it’s his first time cooking personally. He wants to spoil me like a little girl before I become a mom.” But just last month, when I shared pregnancy recipes with Julian. He had suspected me of tampering with them, inspecting the condoms in our bedroom with a dark expression. It turned out Julian didn’t not want children; he just wanted children with Vivian. These two years of supposed deep affection, of being a loving couple – it had all been a facade. Tears soaked my pillow, the heavy ache suffocating me. I finally drifted off to sleep as dawn broke. The next morning, Julian came to the hospital with breakfast. He set up the small table, placing warm milk and a sandwich on it, his expression unusually gentle. “Maya, I said some harsh things yesterday.” Julian patiently tried to coax me. “Even though Vivian and I aren’t blood relatives, she’s still my step-sister by name. There’s nothing scandalous going on between us like you imagine.” “Once she has the baby, I’ll bring it to live with you, and it will only recognize you as its mother.” “If that child ever dares to treat you poorly in the future, I swear I won’t forgive him!” Listening to Julian’s sanctimonious explanations, my heart slowly sank to the bottom. The milk was leftover from breakfast, still bearing the hotel label from last night. Even now, his soft words were only meant to manipulate me into accepting Vivian’s future child. Was this truly the same man who once loved me so fiercely he was willing to break ties with the Davies family just to marry me? Seeing my continued silence, Julian finally grew impatient. He loosened his tie and sat beside me. “Not talking again? Aren’t you tired of this act?” “Fine, Vivian and I can do IVF, without us even being intimate, and you can be the surrogate! Would that satisfy you?!” His face was grim, his tone cold. I looked at him, countless emotions stuck in my throat, finally managing only a self-deprecating smile. “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” A flicker of panic crossed Julian’s eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. “Don’t pretend.” “You were so desperate to marry into the Davies family, you even agreed to have your parents’ final resting place moved to our private family cemetery, essentially erasing your own family’s history!” He scoffed, certain I wouldn’t leave. But he forgot that he had once knelt before my gravely ill parents, begging for their blessing, for my hand. I had never married into the wealth and prestige of the Davies family. I had married the Julian who loved me as much as his own life.

The day I was discharged, Vivian was also brought home. They maintained a superficial politeness, a distant facade, but in private, they were anything but. When Vivian stood on tiptoes to reach a book, Julian reached from behind to precisely retrieve it for her. When Vivian took off her hair towel, Julian would gently blow-dry her hair. At dinner, Vivian’s gaze lingered on the shrimp. Julian had already peeled them and placed them on her plate. “Eat more.” His eyes were soft. Then he glanced at me and set a piece of fish on my plate. “Maya, you eat too. It’s good for you.” The fish was full of tiny bones-the part I hated most. Julian used to pick every bone out for me, reminding me to eat slowly. But now, looking at that piece of fish, a wave of nausea hit me. They talked about everything and nothing, their conversation effortlessly weaving between three or four languages. I dropped my fork and bent to pick it up. Then I saw what was happening beneath the table, and I froze-rooted to the spot. Vivian had already slipped off her heels. Her long legs, sheathed in black stockings, were wrapped tightly around Julian’s like a serpent. “Julian, the kisses in the car were amazing. We should do that again later, ja?” “And I’m wearing your favorite little bunny outfit tonight… specially to arrest you!” Hearing the familiar Danish, I stiffened upright, my eyes darting instinctively toward Julian. His expression was as usual, yet he replied in the same language. “Naughty girl, be careful. Don’t let Maya find out.” They were intimate without a care in the world, completely disregarding my presence. But Julian probably never imagined that I had been fascinated by foreign languages since childhood, possessing an extraordinary talent for them. I understood every single word they said. Overwhelmed by anger and distress, my face suddenly paled, and I coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. “Maya!” Julian was alarmed, immediately reaching out to steady me. “Maya, it was a miscarriage, not some terminal illness. Why would you suddenly throw up blood?” Vivian feigned confusion, then pretended to realize something. “Could it be… you’re putting on a show for Julian?” Julian stiffened, his hand slowly retracting, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Maya, are you trying to manipulate me?” “You’re poorly educated, from a humble background, yet you foolishly deluded yourself into thinking you could bear a child worthy of the Davies family name. This is the consequence of your greed.” “Vivian is at a crucial stage of her pregnancy planning. If you cause her even the slightest fright, I’ll make you pay a hundred times over!” Vivian gave me a triumphant look, then gently pulled Julian away, comforting him. “Maya’s so sensitive and prone to overthinking, why bother getting upset with her…?” Their voices faded into the distance. Strings of blood dripped onto the floor. I managed a pained, hollow laugh, feeling utterly suffocated by the pain. Julian had probably forgotten that I, too, had a promising future ahead of me. Back then, to be with him, I gave up the chance to study abroad. The Davies family was one of the wealthiest and most influential in the city, and the conditions for marrying Julian were ridiculously harsh and outlandish. Giving up my academic pursuits, learning the strict socialite etiquette, even agreeing to have my parents’ graves moved to their private cemetery… Whenever I felt my boundaries were pushed, seeing his pleading expression, I would bite down hard and force myself to accept. The love I had fought so hard to protect, no matter the cost, now lay shattered at my feet. Julian, if this is what you want, then I will grant it to you. I silently wiped away the bloodstains, took out the prepared divorce agreement, and went straight to the upstairs study to find him. As I reached the corner, I suddenly heard hurried gasps and moans. I froze. Through a gap in the curtains, I saw Vivian, wearing a bunny headband, pinning Julian beneath her. “You don’t even like Maya, so why don’t you just divorce her and marry me instead!”

Julian held her waist, his eyes narrowing slightly in warning. “Vivian, you’re crossing a line.” “Mrs. Davies will always be her. You’re merely a tool to provide reproductive genes.” Vivian pouted, complaining petulantly. “But what if she refuses to accept our baby?!” “Don’t worry. As long as she can’t have children for the rest of her life, she’ll have no choice but to accept it.” Julian’s chilling voice pierced the air. I stood frozen, a cold dread spreading from my feet upward. Julian had always claimed to love me, but his favoritism was always for Vivian. It turned out that in this relationship, from beginning to end, I was the only one in love. Numbly, I returned to my bedroom and sat there for a long time. Only when the room was shrouded in darkness did I pick up my phone and dial. “Please book me a flight. I accept the conditions you proposed.” Julian didn’t return until late that night. Fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, he tried to wrap his arms around my waist from behind. I shifted away. “You’re still up? Work ran late. Don’t be angry, my love?” “Tomorrow is our two-year anniversary. I’ll take you to church to pray for peace and blessings.” When I didn’t answer, he seemed unsettled. He pulled me closer, his face buried in my neck. “Maya, I know you’ve been through so much recently.” “Just hold on a little longer…once the baby arrives, we can start over. Okay?” “Okay,” I said, my voice flat, my heart a block of ice. The heavens listen. Julian was desperate for Vivian to conceive his privileged prodigy. But he would be waiting in vain.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “322494”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

It was the company’s year-end dinner, and everyone was allowed to order one favorite dish. When my turn came, Derek, the new intern, snatched the menu from my hands. “That’s enough. No more orders.” I ignored him and looked at the server. “I’d like a salmon fillet, please.” Derek slammed the menu hard against my cheek. “I said no more orders!” A red welt rose on my skin. Heat rushed to my face. I picked up the menu and slammed it straight back into his. He shrieked, then roared, “Do you have any idea who I am? My mother is Evelyn Jonathan-this company’s biggest client! Even your CEO wouldn’t dare touch me! I’ll bet you fifty grand your bonus vanishes and you never work in this city again!” I froze. Evelyn Jonathan was my aunt. She’d been single for forty years. Since when did she have a grown son? Seeing me stunned and silent, Derek grew even more smug. “What, cat got your tongue? A kept boy like you, coasting on your face-your presence at this dinner pollutes the room. You think you’re fit to order a single dish?” Coasting on my face? I’d pulled all-nighters drafting proposals. I’d worked eight-hour days on-site until I was sunburned beyond recognition. And he had the nerve to say that? I pushed back my chair and stood, meeting his glare head-on. “Watch your tone, Derek. I earn my results. My work speaks for itself. You have no right to talk to me like that.” “This dinner isn’t on your dime. If I’m not fit to order, then neither are you. No wonder the air felt foul the moment I walked in-you’ve been spewing garbage.” The entire room of colleagues lowered their heads, trying to hide their smiles. They had long been fed up with Derek’s arrogance. In the month he’d been interning, he treated every colleague like a personal servant. Chloe, a new employee, once refused to get him coffee. He then poured a full cup of hot coffee over her head, scalding her scalp and leaving a blister. Not only did he not apologize, but he also threatened Chloe. “If you dare make me apologize, I’ll make sure you’re fired!” In the end, the company had to cover her medical bills. I had wanted to step in at the time, but my colleagues held me back. I was baffled why they all seemed angry but too scared to speak up. Turns out, they were intimidated by his title as “Evelyn Jonathan’s son.” Derek’s face flushed crimson with rage, and he pointed a finger at my nose, yelling, “Leo! Don’t try to out-talk me. This company would go bankrupt without my mom’s support, I’m telling you, I call the shots at this dinner! If I say you can’t order, then you can’t!” “Who the hell do you think you are, getting arrogant with me? If you dare order one more dish, I’ll make sure you’re out of here tomorrow!” The server looked at me awkwardly after hearing this. “Sir, would you still like to order the dish?” “Yes!” I blurted it out without hesitation. I just couldn’t believe it. I brought in tens of millions in revenue for the company with a single project. And I wasn’t even allowed to order one dish? “What’s all this commotion about?” Mr. Henderson, the CEO, pushed open the door, his face clouded with displeasure. “Company dinners aren’t for arguing. What’s going on?” Derek didn’t give anyone a chance to speak, twisting the entire story with a look of feigned grievance. Before I could explain, Mr. Henderson’s stern gaze landed on me. “Leo, you’ve been with the company for a year now. Don’t you know frugality is a company principle?” “Derek is doing this for the company’s benefit. Are you really going to starve if you don’t eat one extra dish?” “And hitting someone is even worse. You need to apologize to Derek right now and pay him ten thousand dollars for emotional distress. Then, we can put this matter to rest.” I almost laughed, but it came out as a sneer, as I stared directly at him. “Mr. Henderson, are you sure you want me to apologize and pay compensation?” Mr. Henderson’s expression was unreadable, and Chloe quickly tugged at my sleeve. She whispered, “Leo, don’t be stubborn. Derek is Evelyn Jonathan’s son, you can’t afford to offend him. Mr. Henderson is really counting on Derek to close the deal with Skyward.” I couldn’t help but scoff. “He says his mom is Evelyn Jonathan, and you all just believe him? Did he show up with his birth certificate and a family tree?” Chloe pulled out her phone and opened Derek’s social media. “It’s true. Ms. Jonathan herself brought him on his first day.” I looked at the photo and nearly dropped my jaw. My breathtakingly beautiful aunt, looking absolutely radiant, stood in front of a luxury car, and next to her was indeed Derek. Derek had even captioned the post: “Thanks, Mom, for taking time out of your busy schedule to bring me to my internship. I won’t let you down.” I immediately called my aunt, but the call went straight to voicemail. Seeing my refusal to apologize, Derek looked at me with an evil glint in his eye. “Leo, don’t you dare regret this. I’ll make you pay for it!”

The next day, I saw the price he had spoke of. At the awards ceremony, my title as Top Sales Performer and my $500,000 bonus were given to Derek. The award acceptance speech on the presentation slides even still had my name on it. This was blatant robbery, and a fire raged in my chest. I immediately challenged them. “What are the criteria for Top Sales Performer? My project sales this month exceeded one billion dollars, generating tens of millions in revenue and outperforming second place by five million in profit. Derek has not closed a single deal. I ask every leader here-on what grounds was my award given to him?” A sudden silence fell over the room. The Finance Director and Sales Director exchanged glances, neither daring to speak. Derek looked at me with an arrogant smirk. “Of course, it’s because your projects weren’t acquired legitimately. The company can’t condone such deplorable behavior.” “Right now, we’re only stripping you of your Top Sales Performer title. If you continue to use such shady tactics to damage the company’s reputation, then you’ll be facing termination!” I was trembling with anger, my gaze sweeping across all the leaders on the podium. Those leaders who used to praise my business acumen, calling me a promising talent, now all avoided my gaze. I looked at the company’s highest leader, Mr. Henderson. “Mr. Henderson, is this your decision too?” Mr. Henderson, called out publicly, was clearly displeased, frowning impatiently. “Leo, the company has its own considerations. Don’t let such a small matter disrupt the awards ceremony. You need to think about the bigger picture.” “The bigger picture?” My eyes reddened, and my voice trembled. “The ‘bigger picture’ you speak of means that my projects, which I worked on tirelessly, staying up until midnight every day, are simply handed over to someone else?” “Because of his baseless rumors, all my contributions are erased, and you do nothing?” “I ask you, where is the fairness? Where is the justice? Don’t you feel any shame treating an employee who has made such significant contributions to the company this way?” Mr. Henderson was left speechless by my questions, but Derek showed no shame, raising his chin as he looked at me. “Fairness?” He scoffed. “Leo, don’t be so naive. In this society, justice always belongs to those with power.” “If you want justice, then find a rich mom to give it to you. Too bad, you don’t have one.” He made no effort to hide his contempt, telling me coldly, “My identity as the CEO of Skyward Group, Evelyn Jonathan’s son, will crush you so completely you’ll never recover in this lifetime!” I stared at him, truly wondering where he got such confidence. I even started to doubt whether my aunt had truly secretly had a child without our family knowing. I suddenly spoke up. “I heard Ms. Jonathan has a nephew she dotes on like her own son. Derek, have you ever met him?” Derek’s expression stiffened for a moment, then he gave me a disdainful glance. “That’s my cousin. Of course, I’ve met him. But my cousin lives abroad and rarely comes back. Even I rarely see him. A lowlife commoner like you wouldn’t even have a chance.” I scoffed. “Is that so? Derek, if you’re not a ‘lowlife,’ why are you stealing someone else’s Top Sales Performer title and bonus? Could it be you’re just a fake heir?” “You!” Derek’s face turned ashen, and he glared at me fiercely. “Leo! Don’t push your luck. Your Top Sales Performer title was revoked because you’re undeserving, and I earned mine through merit!” “Through merit?” I took a step forward, glaring at him. “Are you referring to your ‘merit’ of slacking off and playing video games all day, taking a two-hour lunch break, and leaving promptly at five?” “Or perhaps your ‘merit’ of sitting in front of a computer all day and only typing ‘proposal’ into a presentation slide?” My words weren’t fast, but each one was enough to humiliate him. He stood there, mouth agape, unable to speak, and looked to Mr. Henderson for help. Mr. Henderson’s face flashed with a look of disappointment, and he spoke to me in a stern voice. “Leo! Watch your language. This is a company, not a fish market, and you won’t be allowed to make a scene!” “Don’t think that just because you secured a few projects for the company, you’re above the law. It’s survival of the fittest. You need to accept being replaced by someone more outstanding. Don’t be unreasonable!” All eyes turned to me, waiting to see me make a fool of myself, tearing into the company over this $500,000 bonus. $500,000? I wouldn’t even bat an eye at $5 million. What I wanted was fairness. I wasn’t angry, nor did I refute. I just offered a sarcastic smile. “Fine, I accept. The Top Sales Performer title should indeed be reserved for someone more outstanding.”

As soon as I returned to my cubicle, HR sent out two announcements. “Leo has been found to be misusing company funds for lavish meals, which is a serious violation of company policy. Therefore, Leo’s position as Sales Manager has been revoked, and he is suspended for self-reflection.” “Intern Derek has bravely upheld company interests and demonstrated outstanding performance during his internship, generating significant revenue for the company. He is hereby immediately promoted to full-time employment and appointed as Sales Manager, taking over subsequent projects.” Immediately after, Mr. Henderson @’ed me in the group chat. “Leo, your extravagance and disregard for company policy have resulted in the deduction of this month’s bonus. You are to write a 10,000-word self-reflection report and post it in the group. All other employees should take this as a warning!” This was outright bullying! They stripped me of my Top Sales Performer title, withheld my bonus, and made me a cautionary tale, using my humiliation to solidify his own power. The group chat instantly went silent, and even the office fell into a dead hush. All eyes, subtly or not, shifted towards me – some with sympathy, others with regret, indignation, and even schadenfreude. The messages lay there, untouched. It was as if everyone was waiting for me to bow my head and apologize in the group. Mr. Henderson @’ed me again. “Are you blind?” I still didn’t reply. He kept @’ing me, over and over, like a man possessed. Chloe sent me a Snap. “Leo, don’t be stubborn. Just give in a little. Your job is on the line.” I smiled at her, a tear rolling down my cheek. My stiff fingers tapped on the phone, trembling as I replied, “Understood, boss. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never again be so extravagant as to order a forty-dollar dish. Next company dinner, I’ll just drink water. I won’t touch a thing.” This seemingly apologetic message was like dropping a match into a powder keg. On the surface, it was calm, but it conveyed a deep disappointment in the company. I immediately logged out of all company software, genuinely taking my suspension for self-reflection. Mr. Henderson, citing the ‘out of my lane, out of my business’ principle, moved me to a cubicle next to the restroom. I was forced to endure the condescending or pitying glances of colleagues passing by every day. Derek sat triumphantly at my former cubicle, barking orders at department employees. But my position wasn’t so easy to fill. Every previous project, I had personally overseen, from design to production, understanding every detail. But Derek knew nothing. Within a few days, a dozen clients complained, demanding I resume their projects, otherwise they would cancel their partnerships. The company was facing hefty compensation fees. Mr. Henderson finally couldn’t handle it. He condescended to come to my cubicle. “Leo, these projects were under your supervision, and now there’s a technical issue. Go coordinate and ensure the client is satisfied.” I slowly lifted my head, feigning confusion. “Mr. Henderson, are you sure you have the right person? I’m suspended for self-reflection.” He paused, then spoke in a stiff tone. “Suspension for self-reflection doesn’t mean no work. Company policy dictates that you’re responsible for your projects from start to finish.” I shrugged. “But I’ve already revoked all my access permissions. I can’t follow up.” His expression froze, his eyes filled with anger. “Suspension isn’t termination, why did you delete your accounts? Apply for new access immediately.” I looked at him calmly. “But Mr. Henderson, you’re the one who said, ‘Out of my lane, out of my business.’ I’m just listening to my boss’s orders.” Mr. Henderson’s face reddened with embarrassment, but he still tried to be patient. “Alright then, your work status is reinstated now. Contact the clients immediately and make sure they don’t terminate their contracts.” I smiled. “Mr. Henderson, shouldn’t you be asking the more ‘outstanding’ Top Sales Performer for this? I’m just a pretty boy who gets by on his looks, you know, I don’t have that kind of talent.” His face turned beet red, trying hard to suppress his rage. “Leo, it was just a joke between colleagues, you didn’t actually take it seriously, did you?” I still had a smile on my face, but it was edged with ice. “So, my Top Sales Performer title being revoked and losing out on a $500,000 bonus was also just a joke?” “A $40 dish being deemed extravagant and wasteful was also just a joke?” These words landed like a series of slaps, hitting him squarely in the face. His complexion shifted from red to white, then to a purplish-blue. He remained silent. I knew he was battling himself; after all, admitting he was wrong wasn’t something a big boss like him would do. Just then, Derek excitedly rushed over. “Mr. Henderson, Skyward has agreed to invest!” Mr. Henderson’s face immediately broke into a triumphant smile. “That’s fantastic! Derek, you’re a godsend to this company. With Skyward as our backer, those clients will be begging to work with us.” He turned and gave me a sharp glare. “Leo, you’re fired. Go process your resignation immediately!” I calmly nodded. “Alright. I’ll expect the company to compensate me as per regulations.” He shrieked furiously, “Compensation? You’ve caused the company immense losses; just wait, the company will sue you!” Derek looked at me with venom. “Leo, I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted from the entire industry!” I gave a faint smile. “Sure, I’ll be waiting.”

I quietly packed my things and walked out of the company where I had poured my heart and soul for a year. I had dedicated all my passion and intellect to this company, relying not on connections but on my own abilities to make it flourish. Yet, I was met with termination. My heart felt as if it had been rolled in ice, cold and aching. Colleagues came out to see me off, offering words of comfort. Chloe said tearfully, “Leo, you’re so talented, you’ll succeed wherever you go. Don’t let Derek’s words get to you; you’ll definitely find a new job.” I just smiled without speaking. Derek didn’t have that kind of power. Outside the company, I received a call from my aunt, who had been unreachable for half a month. “Leo, I’m signing a contract with your company next week, but I’ll be in Africa for a survey, so I can’t be there.” I spoke, my voice low. “Aunt, I quit.” A pause on the line. “Did something happen at work? Do you need me to step in?” No. I want to return to the company and take over this project myself.” I hung up. A slow smile touched my lips. The real show was about to begin. My appearance at the signing stunned everyone from my old company. Especially Mr. Henderson and Derek, whose stares could have cut glass. Derek sneered at me. “What are you doing here? You’re fired. You have no standing at this signing.” I barely glanced at him. “Not being your employee doesn’t mean I can’t attend. What if I’m here on behalf of Skyward?” He laughed, sharp and mocking. “Leo, that’s pathetic. The CEO of Skyward is my mother. I’m the client. I’m signing for her.” “Don’t flatter yourself by calling yourself the client. A lowlife like you isn’t fit to scrub Skyward’s floors.” His words drew every eye in the room. “So he’s Ms. Jonathan’s son! No wonder he has such presence.” “How dare he offend Ms. Jonathan’s son? This guy must not want to get by in this city anymore.” “He looks like he works at a nightclub. Definitely a kept man!” “He’s nothing like Ms. Jonathan’s son, who’s such a respectable young man.” Derek stood in the center, surrounded by flattery, already feeling on top of the world. He looked at me with an even more triumphant smile and ordered the security guards, “Get this lowlife out of here right now, and let’s proceed with the signing immediately!” Several security guards moved toward me. I calmly took out a seal and held it up. “Derek, without this, how can you sign the contract?” The room went still, all eyes locked on my hand. “Isn’t that Ms. Jonathan’s personal crystal seal? It’s priceless. She never lets it leave her side. How could he have it?” I walked straight past a stunned Derek, stepped up to the podium, and picked up the microphone. “Effective immediately, Skyward Group is terminating its partnership with Conflux Company.” Mr. Henderson’s eyes narrowed. He glared at me, furious. “Leo, who the hell do you think you are, speaking for Evelyn?” I met his gaze, my voice level. “Didn’t you hear me? I am the client.” Derek stared at me in disbelief. “Leo, how do you have my mother’s seal? Who are you? What gives you the right to make decisions for her?” I held his stare and spoke slowly, clearly. “Because she’s my aunt.”

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On our third wedding anniversary, I tricked Sera into signing the divorce papers. The doctor had just told me I had terminal stomach cancer and only three months to live. Sera just thought I was being difficult. Annoyed, she signed, then jetted off to Europe with Leo, her adopted brother and childhood friend. Later, she tried every trick in the book to threaten and retaliate against me, desperately hoping I’d come back to her. But all she got was the video I left for her at my funeral. When the first words flashed on screen: “Sera, by the time you see this video, I’ll already be dead…” The once utterly arrogant Sera completely lost her mind. I was in the hospital, my stomach bleeding from overwork, while Sera and Leo watched a private fireworks show in our backyard. Facing the cameras practically shoved in my face, I forced a weak smile onto my pale lips. “Everyone, stop guessing. Sera and I are doing great. The guy she’s leaning on is just a family friend, her adopted brother, that’s all.” The crowd of reporters surrounding me looked disgusted, as if my answer was too rehearsed. Actually, it wasn’t entirely false. Leo wasn’t her biological brother; he was an orphan adopted by the Harrison family. Sera and I were in an arranged marriage, and she was a perfectly suitable partner for a business alliance. But three months ago, after Leo returned from overseas, Sera’s personality completely shifted. She clung to him constantly. She utterly forgot she was a married woman, and she forgot the media once hailed her as the perfect wife. All the household staff had been sent by Sera to prepare the fireworks show for Leo. I called her several times, but she didn’t pick up. I had no choice but to drag my weakened body through the discharge process and take a cab home. The quiet night, my silent self, seemed utterly out of place amidst the raucous celebration. Watching the fireworks explode across the sky in the backyard, Sera attentively lit a cigarette for Leo, feeding him cake. Suddenly, I realized I was the outsider in my own home. It was deep autumn. Leaves littered the ground, rustling underfoot. Leo was the first to spot me. He jumped up, startled like a bird, looking genuinely pitiful. “Myles!” “Please don’t misunderstand, Sera and I were just celebrating the company’s revival, that’s all.” Ha! Celebrating the company’s revival? *Just* that? What did he have to do with our company clawing its way back from the brink of collapse to reach its peak today? Seeing the contempt etched on my face, Sera rushed forward, shielding Leo behind her. “Myles, stop acting like you’re on your deathbed all the time, okay?” “Haven’t you had enough of faking your calm, collected demeanor for the cameras and interviews every single day?” “You want me to pity you? Feel sorry for you?” “Dream on!” Leo, still behind her, looked scared by her outburst. He sniffled, his eyes red, and tugged on her arm. “Sera! Please don’t be so angry!” “I’m scared.” This grand performance almost made me applaud, but I no longer had the energy to compete with them. Unexpectedly, I forced a smile and stepped closer, putting on a pathetic act for Sera: “Sera, I absolutely didn’t misunderstand anything between you two.” “It’s just… it’s my birthday today. I know you’re busy, so you forgot. I don’t blame you.” She froze for a second, then any trace of guilt on her face was quickly hidden. “Birthday?” She scoffed, a sneer twisting her lips. “Didn’t you say you hated celebrating your birthday?” My mother died giving birth to me; my birthday is the anniversary of her death. My father cherished my mother deeply, and every year he would prepare elaborate memorials for her, so I had never celebrated a birthday growing up. But she had forgotten that it was *she* who, for two consecutive years after we married, celebrated my birthday, pulling me out of the darkness. I remember her eyes sparkling as she leaned in close, whispering to me, “Myles, from now on, you’ll never feel alone on your birthday again.” “You were never a curse; you are my lucky charm.” Looking at her now, defending Leo with the same unwavering devotion, my heart no longer ached. She didn’t know. A week ago, I had tricked her into signing the divorce papers.

The stomach bleeding today wasn’t a coincidence. A week ago, I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, with barely three months to live – the memory still vivid. I remember it was our third wedding anniversary. I was sitting alone in the hospital corridor, the sweat on my hands dampening the diagnostic report. My legs felt like jelly; I tried to stand several times but couldn’t. My taut heart was slowly torn to shreds when Sera finally answered on the tenth call. “Myles! Are you sick or something?” “Just because you’re bored to death doesn’t mean everyone else isn’t busy, does it?” She actually got it right. I was sick, and critically so. A man’s voice in the background made the words I wanted to spill catch in my throat. “Sera! I knew you’d come!” “You must miss me, right?” Sera’s laughter echoed from the other end, followed by an abrupt hang-up. This wasn’t the first time. The first time Sera stood me up was to pick up Leo from the airport. The first time she hit me was because Leo broke my architectural model. My initial shock had gradually evolved into indifference. The searing pain in my chest had now become a dull throb. More than once, I made excuses for her, telling myself it was all because Leo was her adopted brother, and she was helpless. But eventually, I had to face the truth: she wasn’t helpless; she was willing. Sera saw me as a temporary distraction when Leo wasn’t around, trampling on my dignity and my feelings. So I decided to make her taste the agony of unrequited love, to force her to fall for me, to make me unforgettable. If she wouldn’t see me, I would become the thorn buried deep in her heart. Alive, I’d cause her constant pain. Dead, I’d make her wish she were dead. I recorded three videos, determined to give Sera a grand parting gift.

During that last month, I abandoned my former pride and dignity, even ignoring Leo’s blatant provocations. But he wasn’t done with me. He spilled coffee all over my design blueprints. When Sera returned, she found me furious at Leo. “Do you have to be so aggressive?” I silently raised my hand. The angry red marks on my wrist from the hot coffee were stark. “Sera! Don’t you know he—” She glanced at Leo, who was trembling with fear, then a sharp slap echoed as her hand connected with my face. “If your hand is hurt, go to the hospital! Why are you throwing a fit here?” “You’re nothing but a savage!” All the glory and aspirations of my first half of life vanished in that moment. And my wife, my supposed rock, mocked me with disdain. “The designs are ruined, so what? They’re just tools for you to grab attention anyway.” My hysterical questions sounded like a madman’s ravings to her. “How dare you compare yourself to Leo?” “He studies design because it’s his dream, but you? You’re just after a bit of superficial gain.” Leo picked up a glass of water, poured it over his head, then smashed the glass on the floor, leaving a mess. He looked at me pitifully. “Myles, I didn’t mean it, are you satisfied now?” Sera hurried to comfort him, helping him change clothes. As she left, she shot me a cold glare: “Myles, Leo is my adopted brother. Watch yourself.” Her gaze flickered to my reddened hand, and for a fleeting second, a hint of emotion sparked in her eyes. Leo seemed to notice Sera’s change in demeanor. He closed his eyes and fainted into her arms. “Leo!” Her resolute departure extinguished the last glimmer of light in my heart. In the end, I took a cab to the hospital alone to treat my injury.

I sent all the recorded videos to my sister, Rowan. She knew about my illness and my plan. Our family relations were always distant. Under our father’s influence, my sister had always believed I was the reason she grew up without a mother. “Myles, your cancer is your karma. You should have paid for Mom’s life a long time ago.” That was the first thing she said to me after learning of my illness. I promised her the company, and she agreed to play the video at my funeral. My phone kept flashing on and off, a relentless stream of messages. It was Sera, the IP address indicating she was overseas. “Myles, don’t worry, I’ll definitely make it back for the family dinner tomorrow night.” “You’re not mad, are you?” “Myles, you have to understand. Leo threatened to kill himself, I had no choice but to go.” “That’s a human life at stake! I can’t just stand by and do nothing!” My lips felt numb, my limbs heavy. Messages popped up on the screen, one after another, until I gradually lost consciousness. As I fell to the ground, the question in my heart remained unanswered: “Sera, how miserable will your end be?” My soul drifted out of my body. I watched my own pale, rigid form lying on the floor. Perhaps my deep unwillingness to accept my fate touched the heavens, granting me this chance to stay and witness their end. My phone had one bar of battery left, the message list already 99+. Sera had just sent me one last message. “Myles, stop making a scene.” “My flight might be delayed, so go to the old family estate and wait for me first.” I scoffed. My consciousness traveled to the Harrison estate, waiting for the show to begin. Sera seemed to be in a hurry; her tie was still crooked. She ran breathlessly into the estate. “Grandpa, where’s Myles?” “I need to talk to him about something first.” Grandpa Harrison looked flustered, his brows still furrowed. “Sera!” “Always rushing around like this, what kind of manners are those?” “And from now on, you can’t let Leo run wild just because he’s throwing a tantrum. Our Harrison family isn’t completely free from the Rowan family’s support. If he hadn’t insisted on going abroad to study design back then, and you hadn’t secretly embezzled company funds, the company wouldn’t have ended up in such a state.” “You can’t afford to anger Myles away, so rein in your temper!” Sera’s brows furrowed instantly, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Grandpa! Why are you still talking about that now?” “If Myles hears any of this, everything will be ruined!” Watching this, my heart still ached. So, the company’s financial black hole I had worked myself to death to fix was all Leo’s doing. And her kindness to me before? It was merely a calculated act, preying on my ability to revive her company. “Myles? What Myles?” Grandpa Harrison asked, bewildered by her agitated tone. Sera froze for a second, then panic flashed in her eyes. “Myles… he hasn’t arrived yet?” She sighed, pulled her phone from her pocket, and dialed my number. After three calls with no answer, standing rooted to the spot, she finally grew anxious. “Answer the phone, Myles!” She paced frantically, stamping her foot a few times in frustration. Grandpa Harrison suggested they sit down; the entire family was already assembled. Just as Sera sat at the dining table, a call came in. I clearly saw her face shift from excited joy to confused bewilderment. Rowan’s voice came through the phone. “Sera, come to Myles’s funeral tomorrow.”

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The takeaway joint downstairs from my apartment was expensive, but the food was delicious. I ordered from there almost every day. At first, they’d pack exactly what I asked for. Then, if I asked for $30 worth, they’d pack $50. If I asked for $50, they’d load me up with $100. I knew they were struggling, so I always paid the full amount without a word, thinking I was helping them out. This morning, I was rushing to work, my driver honking impatiently. After grabbing my order, I noticed the paper bag was tearing. Without thinking, I grabbed two extra plastic bags from the counter. I didn’t say anything to the owner, just hurried into the car. Turns out, at lunchtime, the owner’s mom tracked me down at my office, demanding I pay for them. She stood there, in front of all my colleagues, screaming insults, calling me a cheap, shameless thief. That’s when it hit me. Some people just aren’t worth your sympathy or your help. 0I slept late last night and overslept this morning. I threw myself together and rushed out the door. The driver was already waiting, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I yelled to the owner to just pack me $30 worth of fried chicken and fries to go. I was in a hurry. But when she weighed it, the total came to $56.90. I just shrugged, paid, and reached for my order. That’s when I saw the paper bag was ripped, sauce already leaking onto my hand. The owner looked swamped, so I figured it was just a small thing and didn’t want to bother her. I quickly grabbed two plastic bags from the counter and dove into the car. Twenty minutes after arriving at the office, I hadn’t even touched my food. My butt hadn’t even warmed the seat yet. My colleague, Mark, told me someone was asking for me. I thought it was an early client meeting. I tidied up my outfit and headed to the entrance. As I got to the door, I saw a familiar face: Agnes Thompson, the fast-food owner’s mom. Her voice was sharp, spitting venom, spittle flying everywhere. “You ran off without paying! And you work at a big company? How shameless can you be?” My mind raced, trying to figure it out. Did my card decline because of a weak signal? I meticulously checked my payment history. Nope, it went through. I paid with my credit card. There had to be a misunderstanding, I thought. I calmly and politely tried to explain to her. “Agnes, I just checked. I definitely paid. Is it possible there was a network delay on your end, and the payment just hasn’t registered yet?” I practically shoved my payment history in her face. “See for yourself if you don’t believe me. I have the record right here. You must be mistaken.” “You paid for the chicken, sure, but don’t you forget, you grabbed several extra bags on your way out! Those bags are fifty cents each! What, am I supposed to give them away for free? Do I owe you something?!” Instead of clearing things up, she just got more agitated, ready for a full-blown argument. “You walk around here all prim and proper, looking like you own the place, but in the end, you’re trying to screw over a small business owner like me!” “Does this big company not check people’s character when they hire? Call your boss out here! Let him see your true colors!” “I know what this is. You think I’m just an old lady, easy to push around, easy to take advantage of. Taking things without paying! Don’t think for a second I’m too shy to come here and demand my money!” “Everyone here! Come judge this old lady! She’s bullying me!” 0

Agnes’s voice echoed through the office, loud enough for the entire floor to hear. Her shouting drew everyone’s attention. People started curiously gathering around, wanting to see what was happening. Even my team leader, David, was alarmed. David rushed over, and seeing Agnes so upset, immediately started trying to calm her down, without even asking me for my side of the story first. He said to me, “Alex, just pay her quickly. Let’s get this over with. It’s not easy for an old lady to come all the way here. Let’s not argue and make things unpleasant, it’ll reflect badly on the company.” I thought about it and figured David had a point. After all, it was just a dollar. It wasn’t worth causing a huge scene over. Besides, my big client was arriving in half an hour. I really didn’t have the energy to argue with Agnes. I swallowed my anger, giving David a cold, terse “Okay.” “Agnes, I was truly rushing to catch my ride today and left in a hurry. And even though I only asked for $30 worth of food, you still packed me $56.90. I also had no idea you charged for extra bags, so that’s my mistake. My apologies. Please open your payment app, and I’ll pay you now.” When I explained what happened, the colleagues watching understood the situation and gave me sympathetic looks. Agnes shot me a venomous glare. “Fine, you’re smart enough to know when to quit. I’ll let you off the hook this time. But if you ever try to skip out on bag fees again, I won’t sell to you. My takeaway joint doesn’t welcome people with low morals.” Hearing that, I nearly exploded with rage. But I couldn’t stand to look at her for another second, so I quickly opened my phone and paid. “Payment received: $1.” A crisp notification sounded. I thought that was the end of it. But Agnes wasn’t done pushing her luck. Her nose practically touching the ceiling, her aggressive swagger undiminished, she pointed a bony finger right at my face and said: “One dollar? Are you trying to pay off a beggar? I caught you red-handed today, but who knows how many times you’ve secretly taken my bags before?!” “You’re so young, why are you so rotten and malicious?” I clenched my jaw, forcing the words out through gritted teeth: “So tell me! How much do you want?!” “Since you’re such a regular at my fried chicken place, at least… $50!” She named an outrageous price. Seeing my stunned silence, her tone grew even sharper and more scornful. “You casually spend dozens of dollars on a single meal, but you won’t give me $50? Have you no shame?” I didn’t want to argue with her anymore. I just transferred her $50 and told her to leave. She took the money, a smirk on her face. “You’re so rich anyway, what’s it matter who you spend it on? Might as well be me.” Then she beamed and walked away. My mind reeled. $50? Why don’t you just rob me?! Fifty dollars for two plastic bags?! You old hag, you know I come to your place every day for fried chicken, don’t you? I saw that you had three kids, and you were struggling to make ends meet. Every time I bought something, you’d give me extra, dozens of dollars more than I asked for, and I just saw it as helping out someone less fortunate. I never said a word. My dad had suggested raising your rent multiple times, but I knew your family was tight on cash, and I liked your food, so I told him not to. And here you are, coming after me for a measly plastic bag? I didn’t even complain about your torn bag! It’s true what they say: kindness is often mistaken for weakness. I watched her retreating back, a smirk playing on my lips. You just messed with the wrong person. 0

The moment Agnes stormed off, a collective sigh of relief swept through the office. Colleagues gathered around me, offering comfort: “Alex, with old folks like that, you just have to cut your losses. If you don’t pay, they’ll just keep making a scene. Don’t take it to heart.” “My eyes have truly been opened today. Talk about a total ingrate!” one colleague said indignantly. “Exactly! Her place is Thompson’s Takeaway, right? I used to like it, but I’m never going there again!” Then Kevin, a male colleague who always seemed to have an issue with me, chimed in with his usual condescending tone: “Well, Alex was the one who didn’t pay first, wasn’t he? She’s not wrong. Is it really appropriate for you all to talk about an old lady behind her back like this?” “Why don’t you say it to her face if you’re so brave?” His voice was dripping with provocation. I gave him a look that could curdle milk, my voice icy: “Why are you so chatty? What’s it to you, Kevin?!” His face went from red to pale. His mouth opened and closed, but he wisely decided to keep it shut. Some people, you just had to call them out directly, no holds barred. I told my dad what happened. My dad wasn’t one to say “I told you so” after the fact; instead, he gently comforted me: “Alex, don’t worry about it. We just won’t eat there anymore, okay? With her attitude, they’ll go out of business eventually.” My dad’s voice was thick with anger. “That storefront! I’d rather let it sit empty than rent it to them again! They messed with my kid, my precious boy!” “How much longer is their lease?” I pressed. “About a month.” “Then don’t give them any time to prepare. Just tell them to pack up and get out when it’s due.” My voice was cold. “Alright! Whatever you say!” My dad firmly supported my decision. My dad was often away for work, so it was just my mom and me at home. My mom was a university professor, usually at school, rarely home, so I mostly lived alone. I didn’t dwell on the incident. After all, if a dog bites you, it’s not your fault. On my way home from work, I bought a lot of fancy pastries from a bakery and a large box of freshly cut durian. The Thompson family had three children. The eldest daughter was studying at college out of state. The middle daughter, Ashley, was 13 and just started middle school. The youngest son, Billy, was in elementary school. As I passed their takeaway, the two younger Thompson kids excitedly ran up to me. Ashley followed close behind, her eyes wide with longing. “Alex, what did you buy? It looks so good!” I knew what she was thinking and frankly said, “Small cakes and durian! What’s up? Anything you need? No? I’m going home then.” Billy’s eyes lit up at the word ‘durian.’ He reached out, trying to tug at my bag. “Alex, how did you know I wanted durian today? Hurry, open it and let me have a piece!” I held the bag high, looking at him with clear disdain. “Want some? Go buy it yourself! If you don’t have money, ask your dad!” Billy looked up, clearly annoyed. “My dad isn’t as rich as you are! He would never buy us such expensive stuff!” Ashley chimed in, “Exactly! If it weren’t for you, Alex, we wouldn’t have tried all these nice things.” I never realized these two kids were so ungrateful before. Guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh? I used to feel sorry for them. Every time I passed by, they’d call out “Alex! Alex!” so sweetly. And whenever I bought something nice, I’d always share it with them without hesitation. Today, I wasn’t in the mood to give. 0

Seeing that I was slow to hand it over, Billy reached out and tugged at my shirt! “Hurry up and give it to me! I’m telling you!” I snapped, “Get lost! I’m not your dad, why should I give it to you?!” He glared, threatening me. “I know you love our food! Believe it or not, I’ll tell my dad not to sell you fried chicken!” Ashley also dropped her innocent act, planting her hands on her hips, her voice righteous. “You always used to give it to us! Why not today?!” ??? How could people be so shameless? Agnes saw what was happening and shamelessly waddled over, utterly devoid of shame, as if the person who caused a scene at my office wasn’t her. She put on a magnanimous air. “What you did, taking those bags, consider it forgotten! I won’t hold a grudge. Don’t want to ruin our harmony,” she continued, her tone bordering on a command. “It’s normal for kids to crave snacks! Just give him some, you’re not hurting for it.” “My grandson only asked because he likes you. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” The moment her words trailed off, I responded with a cold laugh, not an ounce of fear in my eyes. “What are you doing here? Looking for a fight? Then I’m happy to oblige.” My voice was icy, devoid of emotion. “If you’re uneducated, you can learn. If you’re ugly, you can get plastic surgery. But your rotten heart? There’s no cure for that. You extorted $50 from me for a plastic bag, and now you have the nerve to come here and order me around? You only have one face, why don’t you try to save some of it?”

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My stepsister, who’d been paralyzed for six years, suddenly had a swollen belly. I picked up my phone to call the police, but my father grabbed my hand. “Seraphina, that’s your baby too!” My husband, Kalan Vance, stood silently beside my father, tacitly agreeing to this absurdity. I understood. My stepsister’s baby was my husband’s. Seeing my silence, Kalan tried to justify himself: “You didn’t want kids anyway. Briar is paralyzed, and she’s your sister. Her having a baby won’t shake your position as my wife.” In their eyes, I never said no to them. But they didn’t know that I had fulfilled my promise to my mother, and now, it was time for me to leave. Kalan’s hand was still resting on Briar’s swollen belly. The sight of it stung my eyes. “Don’t be mad at Kalan.” Briar lay in bed, an innocent smile on her face. “The doctor said I’m not well, Kalan was just worried about me and the baby, that’s why he kept it from you.” “We’re both doing this for your sake. You’ve been Kalan’s wife for so many years without getting pregnant, it’s… a bit embarrassing for you, isn’t it?” She even patted my hand affectionately. “Once the baby’s born, we’ll put him under your name, and he can call you Mom, okay?” My father cleared his throat, adopting the air of a patriarch. “Seraphina! Briar is carrying a Vance family child, the hope of our family!” “Your sister is unwell, yet she’s taking on this burden for you, for the Vance family. Instead of being grateful, who are you giving that sour face to?” Kalan finally took his hand off Briar’s belly and walked towards me. He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. His arm froze in mid-air. “We’ve been married for so many years, don’t you understand me?” “Everything I do is for you, for our family. I can’t let people whisper behind your back, saying you’re a barren woman.” I looked at him, unable to utter a single word. Seeing my unresponsiveness, Kalan’s patience wore thin. He tugged at his tie, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Alright, stop being dramatic. I’ve already asked Mrs. Davies to prepare dinner to celebrate.” “As the lady of the house, you should at least show some enthusiasm.” He turned and gently helped Briar up, with a tenderness I’d never witnessed. “Briar, what do you want to eat? I’ll have the kitchen make it for you.” Briar leaned weakly into his arms, pouting playfully: “I want some of that organic, hand-churned almond milk smoothie you make, and I want you to feed it to me.” “Of course, anything for you.” They flirted openly, treating me like a transparent ornament. I stood there, ridiculously superfluous. Just then, Dr. Miller, the family physician, walked in with his medical bag. His face was wreathed in smiles as he pulled a report from his bag. “Mr. Vance, Mr. Blackwood, congratulations!” He handed the report to Kalan, his voice booming. “Miss Briar’s pregnancy is very stable, and the ultrasound suggests it’s a boy! Congratulations, Mr. Vance, you’re having a baby!” Kalan kissed Briar hard. My father’s face was flushed with excitement. Dr. Miller turned to me, a hint of pity in his smile. “Mrs. Vance, you shouldn’t be too sad.” “Since you haven’t managed to get pregnant, having Miss Briar help you is just as good.” The room was filled with laughter and joy, like countless needles pricking my ears. I clutched my phone, my nails digging into my flesh. Kalan held up the report and walked over to me. “Look, isn’t he adorable? From now on, he’ll be our child.” My father quickly added: “But Seraphina, even if the child is registered under your name, he’ll still call Briar ‘Mom.’” They were as complacent as ever, convinced I would agree to all their requests. Just like the day of my mother’s funeral when my father brought home a stepsister who was only half a year younger than me. He claimed she was an old friend’s daughter, but her face bore a striking resemblance to his. Just like when Kalan said he wanted a child, and I tried countless folk remedies. Even though I had told him before marriage that my body wasn’t well and it would be difficult for me to have children, and I couldn’t endure continuous injections and medication. All because seven years ago, I made a solemn vow by my mother’s deathbed. To help my weak father support the Blackwood family, and to pave a bright future for Kalan, who had nothing. For my mother, the Blackwood family was love, and the Vance family was gratitude. They were her last lingering attachments. But for me, it was nothing more than a promise. Now, seven years have passed, and I see nothing left here to cling to. 2. I turned, leaving the family’s joyful reunion behind me. On the deserted balcony, I dialed the number of the lawyer my mother had designated before she passed. “Mr. Thompson, seven years are up.” A brief silence on the other end, then a sigh. “Miss Seraphina, everything is ready. Just say the word, and all the funds injected into Blackwood Corp and Vance Inc. will begin to be withdrawn within twenty-four hours. We estimate six days for a full extraction.” “Start.” Hanging up the phone, I felt the rope that had bound me for seven years finally loosen. Kalan walked over, I didn’t know when, frowning at me. “Who were you talking to so mysteriously?” “Seraphina, I’m warning you, don’t take the family money and make reckless investments. “Raising a child will cost money at every turn, so start saving.” He lectured me as if it were his right, completely forgetting that his money was earned with my help. I ignored him and walked straight to the dining room. The long dining table was laden with dishes, all of them Briar’s favorites. Kalan meticulously deboned fish for Briar, completely oblivious that I hadn’t eaten anything. My father drank until his face was flushed. “Seraphina, transfer your shares in Blackwood Corp to Briar’s unborn child. Consider it a gift from you.” I looked up at his face, etched with calculation. I nodded. “Alright.” My straightforwardness stunned them all for a moment. Kalan was the first to react, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “I knew Seraphina was the most reasonable one.” He immediately took charge: “The shares you hold in my company should also be transferred. For our child, you’d surely be willing.” Briar leaned into Kalan’s arms, pretending to be worried as she tugged at his sleeve. “Kalan, don’t do that, Seraphina will be unhappy.” My father scoffed. “How could she be? She’s thrilled! Aren’t you, Seraphina? Come on, toast Briar and say a few words of blessing.” Kalan picked up a glass of red wine and offered it to me. “I can’t drink,” I said. Kalan’s face instantly darkened. “Can’t drink? When you drank until your stomach bled on the negotiation table for the South Ridge project, why didn’t you say you couldn’t drink?” My father chimed in: “Exactly, how many rounds have you endured over the years? You seemed quite happy drinking then, even eager to go when no one asked.” All these years, one needed to maintain his image as a refined CEO, and the other his authoritative chairman persona. The dirty work of schmoozing and charming people naturally fell to me. Six more days, I counted silently in my head. Then I took the wine glass Kalan had practically shoved to my lips and turned to Briar. Her face held a poorly concealed triumph. I raised the glass, speaking each word distinctly. “I wish you… everything you desire.” 3 That night, stomach cramps dragged me out of a nightmare. Cold sweat drenched my nightgown, and I curled up on the bed, every breath a painful effort. I fumbled for painkillers on the nightstand, but found nothing. Then I remembered, Mrs. Davies had long since taken away all the household medicines, claiming Briar couldn’t stand the smell of them. The huge villa felt empty. They were probably all gathered in Briar’s room, fawning over her. I struggled to get up and went to the hospital myself. In the emergency room, the doctor looked at my medical records, his brow furrowed. “How did you get into this state again? Didn’t I tell you to take care of yourself?” He looked up at me, his tone full of reproach: “Wasn’t Mr. Vance watching you? Last time he came, he specifically emphasized that I must help you get well.” I felt a little dazed. The first time my stomach issues flared up was also here. Kalan had rushed me into the emergency room, his eyes red with worry, clutching the doctor’s hand, asking again and again what to do. After being discharged, he took away all my work documents, personally cooked porridge for me. Every few days, he would come to the hospital, pulling the doctor aside to discuss my diet. Back then, he really loved me. But that love… it just faded away. Maybe I was too busy, too busy to pay attention to anyone’s emotions. I still remember the last time Kalan and I argued. It was when I hadn’t slept for three days and nights for a project. And missed the trip I had promised Kalan. He was furious with me for the first time. He accused me of being a cold-blooded monster who only cared about work, and that I hadn’t fulfilled my duties as a wife. I was a bit lost then. I was just trying to be like my mother, wanting them to have a better life. What was wrong with that? Supporting two companies was busy and exhausting. Everything left no room for me to think. By the time I came back to my senses, everything had become like this. My phone vibrated, pulling me out of my memories. It was a message from Kalan. “Dad and I took Briar on a vacation to relax. Transfer six million over from the company account.” I replied with a simple ‘Okay,’ just like before. Then I messaged the finance department, giving them an unlimited spending limit for their expenses. It wouldn’t be my company anymore anyway, and whether the cash flow broke wouldn’t be my concern. The doctor was still nagging beside me: “You need to follow doctor’s orders, don’t neglect your health like this again.” I nodded definitively: “Alright, doctor, I won’t anymore.” From now on, I would only live for myself.

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The moment I asked for a divorce, Brandon Hayes’s mistress slapped me hard across the face. She sneered: “Brandon is just too soft-hearted, letting a low-class nightclub dancer like you continue to be his wife.” Brandon’s sister, Tiffany Hayes, shot me a disdainful glance: “Maya, do you know how many women want to marry my brother? So what if he keeps a few mistresses on the side? It’s not a big deal, is it?” Brandon, meanwhile, had his arm wrapped around his mistress, and he addressed me with impatience: “Everything you have today, I gave you. Without me, you’ll be nothing! I’m giving you one last chance. Are you sure you want to divorce me?” I nodded decisively, stating: “Yes, I do!” After all, my mafia boss father was getting out of prison. He’d been itching to dump Brandon in the river for the alligators for a long time. Scarlett Stone was Brandon’s favorite mistress, and her family owned a small fast-food joint. Brandon’s other mistresses always seemed a little ashamed and timid when they saw me, but Scarlett was an absolute tyrant. Relying on Brandon’s favor, she completely disregarded me. When she saw my firm resolve to divorce, a flicker of delight crossed Scarlett’s eyes. She sat in Brandon’s lap, mocking me with disdain: “Jealous women always meet a tragic end.” “Brandon is a man of great ambition. Marrying him was the luckiest thing that ever happened to you. Instead of helping him further his career, you’re kicking up a fuss about divorcing him just because he has a few women on the side. Isn’t that just holding Brandon back?” “You’re just a stupid woman who got lucky, meeting Brandon before he made his fortune. Otherwise, with your lowly status as a nightclub dancer, you wouldn’t even be qualified to speak to him.” “If I were lucky enough to become Brandon’s wife, I’d manage the household perfectly, treat his other women like family, and make sure Brandon never had a single worry!” Scarlett’s declaration made it clear she was trying to snatch my spot. In the past, I might have exploded in anger. But now, my heart was completely dead to Brandon. The so-called position of his wife was nothing but a joke to me. Tiffany held a glass of red wine, sneering contemptuously at me: “You, a nightclub dancer, aren’t actually trying to blackmail my brother with divorce, hoping he’ll cut ties with his mistresses, are you?” “Maya, don’t be so naive, seriously!” “Are you still thinking that after divorcing my brother, you’ll get half his fortune? Like that minor celebrity who married into a wealthy family a while back and ended up a multi-millionaire through divorce?” “Get that idea out of your head right now. My brother signed a prenup before marrying you, and with me, a top-tier lawyer, on his side, I guarantee you’ll leave with absolutely nothing!” Tiffany certainly had the confidence to say such things. She was a Harvard Law School graduate, now working at a large law firm in New York. Although not yet a “gold-medal lawyer,” she had handled numerous divorce cases with a high success rate. Though I was completely disillusioned with Brandon, Tiffany’s threats still left me feeling angry and heartbroken. I glared at Tiffany, saying: “Without this nightclub dancer, neither of you siblings would be where you are today!” “Back then, you were still in law school, strapped for tuition. If I hadn’t given you the money, you would have been kicked out of the program long ago.” “During that time, Brandon was seriously ill. I was by his side, nursing him, so you could study without worry.” “You once promised me that if Brandon ever treated me badly, you’d be the first one to call him out…” Without my help back then, Tiffany wouldn’t have been able to finish her studies, and Brandon would have starved on the streets. At that time, the Hayes siblings were so grateful to me, they practically wanted to put me on a pedestal. And I, like a fool, thought I’d found true love. What was the result? After Brandon got rich, he stopped coming home. I often saw him in New York gossip news, frequenting bars and other entertainment venues with his mistresses, living a lavish and carefree life. Tiffany, ever since she started working at the law firm, has been rubbing shoulders with business elites and socialites, and she’s grown to look down on me more and more. Now, they fancy themselves as part of the elite, unwilling to mention those poverty-stricken days, which they consider a stain on their lives. When I said these words, the Hayes siblings’ faces instantly turned ugly. Before I could finish, Tiffany violently hurled her wine glass at me. The glass struck my forehead, making me whimper in pain. Wine trickled down my face, leaving me looking quite disheveled. Tiffany watched me with a sinister glint in her eyes, cursing: “You damn wretch, are you going to hold on to those measly favors you did for us siblings forever?” “The money you spent on us back then? We paid it all back ages ago! You think you can keep cashing in on old debts? Dream on!” Brandon squinted at me, his face filled with displeasure: “Maya, my company is about to go public. My sister is also close to getting a promotion at her firm. Do you really have to pick now to cause a scene with a divorce? What’s the point?” “If word gets out that we’re divorcing, it’ll affect both our reputations!” “I admit you helped us in the past, but ever since we got married, I’ve spent a lot of money on you. Any old debts are long settled, so stop clinging to the past.” “If you’re truly set on divorcing me, I won’t treat you unfairly. I won’t make you leave with nothing. After all, you’ve been with me for several years. I’ll give you a million. Be careful with it, and it’ll be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” “But you have to agree to one condition!”

Brandon made me sign an agreement. It stipulated that after the divorce, I was not to mention how I had helped him and his sister back then, nor was I to mention to anyone that Brandon and I had ever been married. I agreed. Although Brandon and I had been married for over three years, the outside world didn’t know about it. Everyone still thought Brandon was single! After all, our wedding was very simple, without many friends or relatives invited. The only witnesses were the old priest from the church and Tiffany. Moreover, after the marriage, Brandon started fooling around and deliberately cultivated a single persona. Tiffany also subtly hinted in many social settings that both she and her brother were single. So, for three years, very few people knew I was Brandon’s wife. After signing the divorce papers and taking the million-dollar check Brandon threw at me, I turned to leave. Just then, Scarlett laughed mockingly: “Maya, after divorcing Brandon, you better be careful with that million dollars!” “I heard Brandon say your crippled, jailed father is getting out of prison soon, isn’t he?” “What did he go to prison for? Killing someone by accident in a fight? Or defaulting on gambling debts?” “When he gets out, you should advise your crippled father to stop running those shady businesses, and you shouldn’t go back to being a nightclub dancer. That million should be more than enough for you two to start a small business!” Her words, seemingly caring, were actually full of sarcasm. Tiffany also snorted: “If I had known her crippled father was in prison back then, I would never have let my brother marry her.” Brandon spoke to me coldly: “From now on, we have no connection.” “If I find out you’ve been spreading rumors, I won’t go easy on you.” “My sister and I are now involved with business elites and important figures. We can’t afford any blemishes on our reputation. Keep your mouth shut, understand?” I said nothing, suppressing the grief and anger in my heart, and left Brandon’s company without looking back. Back home, I quickly packed my personal belongings, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Who was to blame for reaching this point? Only myself, for being so blind and soft-hearted to help those ungrateful, two-faced siblings back then! I dragged my suitcase out of the house, unsure where to go. Just then, a van suddenly pulled up beside me. Then, several burly thugs got out of the van. I recognized them. The leader was Marco, Brandon’s company’s head of security. Marco and his crew used to be street thugs, but after joining Brandon, they morphed into company bodyguards. In the past, they were somewhat polite to me. But now, they roughly dragged me into the van. I struggled fiercely, trying to scream for help, but Marco covered my mouth. He grinned menacingly and said to me: “We’re just following orders, ma’am. If you cooperate, we promise it won’t be too painful.” “Ms. Tiffany wasn’t too happy about Brandon giving you a million dollars, and we certainly have to listen to her. Since she doesn’t like you, we brothers have no choice but to give you a little taste of pain.” “And Ms. Scarlett is about to marry Brandon. We can’t mess up the tasks she gives us, either!” “You’re just unlucky. Don’t blame anyone else!” With that, Marco and his men, smirking lewdly, started to pull at my clothes. Suddenly, the van screeched to a halt. Marco and his crew almost slammed into the windshield. Their faces contorted in anger, ready to yell at the driver, but the next moment, their angry expressions froze. They looked out the window, horrified. Several vans blocked Marco’s vehicle. A group of muscular young men, armed with guns, approached my van and yanked open the door. Marco and his men desperately pleaded: “Gentlemen, have you got the wrong people?” “We’re from Hayes Financial Services. Our boss is Brandon Hayes!” “Gentlemen, let’s talk this out…” The muscular young men ignored Marco and his crew, bowing respectfully to me: “Miss Maya, Mr. Blackwood wants to see you!”

Half an hour later, I arrived at Rikers Island. My crippled father, Mr. Silas Blackwood, was serving his sentence there. He was the “Mr. Blackwood” those men were referring to. After entering the prison, I went directly to the warden’s office. Warden Evans was sitting, chatting, and drinking tea with an old man leaning on a cane. That white-haired old man was my dad! Seeing me, Warden Evans smiled and said: “Maya, it’s been a while since you visited!” “You two catch up. I’ll leave you to it.” After Warden Evans left, the office was silent. After a long moment, Dad spoke softly: “Divorced Brandon, have you?” I lowered my head, clenching my fists, and didn’t respond. Dad let out a cold laugh: “Unwilling? Feel like he betrayed you?” “My foolish daughter, I told you before, that man isn’t trustworthy.” “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have just put the word out, and those siblings would have been dumped in the river for the alligators long ago!” I cut him off, my eyes red, but I said nothing. After Dad went to prison, I didn’t want to take over his illicit businesses, so I chose to open a nightclub. It was then that I coincidentally saved Brandon and lied to him, claiming I was a dancer at that nightclub. Later, after Brandon and I got together, I had intended to tell them about my dad. But what happened? The siblings weren’t interested. All they knew was that my dad was crippled and locked up. By then, Brandon and Tiffany’s careers were starting to take off. They resented me because of it. They didn’t even visit Dad once. Seeing my sorrowful and disheartened expression, Dad sighed, saying: “Since you’re divorced, don’t dwell on the past.” “It’s just a man, isn’t it? Your old man will find you someone much better!” “As for Brandon and Tiffany, they’ll absolutely regret it.”

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And for the sake of exposing the traitor in the police force, I, Adam, single-handedly charged onto the drug lord’s speedboat and detonated the explosives. But Mark, the captain I respected most, told the media I was a traitor. My badge number was permanently blacklisted, and my parents were scorned and shunned by our neighbors. My beloved girlfriend, Chloe, fell into Mark’s arms. They didn’t know. It was Mark who personally cut off my backup and falsely reported my defection to command. I was blasted into the icy Mississippi River by friendly fire, leaving no trace of my body. Three years later. During dock dredging, deep within the sunken speedboat’s cockpit, the salvage team discovered a voice recorder. The pen was tightly wedged by the wreckage, its casing melted and deformed. Inside, was the last call recording between Mark and me. Mark, Chloe. The abyss has watched, and now I’m here to collect. The salvage boat pulled my body from the river. Three years. My restless spirit had haunted these waters for three whole years. Mr. Davis, an old officer nearby, spat in disgust. “Traitor! If he hadn’t betrayed us back then, those three brothers of ours wouldn’t have died!” My soul vibrated wildly in the wind. Traitor? Me? I chose to take the drug lord down with me precisely to expose the traitor! On the outskirts of the crowd, a familiar figure pierced my eyes. Chloe, my girlfriend in life, was also there. The man beside her was Mark. The captain I once respected most was now her husband, the youngest deputy chief at the station. Mark solicitously adjusted Chloe’s shawl, his voice doting: “It’s windy by the river, let’s go.” Chloe hummed in agreement, her gaze falling on my hand bones. “There seems to be something stuck in the bone fragments?” Chloe’s pupils contracted slightly. But Mark spoke first, subtly stepping in front of Chloe: “Just a pile of junk, let’s get rid of it all.” Then, he actually tried to snap my finger bone directly. But my bone had fused with the object; it wouldn’t break. A ruthless glint flashed in Mark’s eyes. He was about to call for tools to force it open, when Officer Miller, standing nearby, instinctively spoke up: “This… this looks like evidence. By regulation, we can’t…” Mark’s gaze cut him like a knife, and Officer Miller immediately fell silent. “Just dispose of this trash. Remember, don’t breathe a word of this outside.” “Yes, sir!” Mark scoffed, then wrapped an arm around Chloe and left. I watched their retreating figures, hatred surging. My soul uncontrollably followed them, drifting into the home I’d envisioned countless times in my dreams. The moment I entered, my soul cried out in agony. In the entryway hung Mark and Chloe’s wedding photo, a stunning pair. It ripped my soul apart. And this place? I’d used all my savings for the down payment, a home I promised Chloe. We once sat on the floor here, dreaming of the future. She said we’d hang our silliest photos together in the entryway. Now, the faces in the picture had changed. Mark poured two glasses of red wine: “Don’t think about it. A traitor who got what he deserved isn’t worth your trouble.” Chloe took the glass and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window: “I just never thought that after three years, that boat would be salvaged.” Her voice was soft, devoid of emotion. Mark hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder: “If it hadn’t been for Adam’s savings, we wouldn’t have settled into this place so quickly. Come to think of it, we should thank him.” My savings? The money I died for became their startup fund for a new life? I saw Chloe’s body visibly stiffen, but she didn’t push Mark away. She just drained her glass of red wine, her voice still emotionless: “What’s there to mention about a traitor?” “What? You still can’t forget him?” Mark’s tone carried a hint of a test. Chloe smiled, turning and embracing Mark, “I just hate him. He betrayed all of us, and he betrayed me.” “Luckily, I still have you.”

Chloe was the first to speak: “Tomorrow, let’s go to the property office.” “The property office?” Mark sounded confused. “To take Adam’s name off the deed and put yours on it.” Chloe’s voice was calm, “This house should have been partly yours a long time ago.” A flash of wild joy appeared in Mark’s eyes, but he quickly hid it. He feigned concern, grasping Chloe’s hand: “Chloe, are you feeling unwell after seeing that boat today? Don’t force yourself.” “Force myself?” Chloe pulled her hand away, a cold laugh escaping her, “I just think a dead traitor’s name doesn’t belong on my home’s deed.” She turned, looking directly into Mark’s eyes: “Or are you saying… you don’t want to?” Mark immediately pulled her into a hug, his voice betraying uncontrollable excitement: “How could I! I just… I just feared you might still be thinking of him.” Chloe leaned against his chest, her muffled voice coming through: “I just hate him. I hate myself for being so blind. Mark, don’t ever bring him up again. I just want to live a good life with you.” “Then let’s go handle the paperwork tomorrow.” Mark gently kissed her forehead, “From now on, this will be our real home.” Hearing that, my soul trembled uncontrollably. This house didn’t just drain my savings; my parents also put in their life’s retirement money. Now, not only do they have to bear the pain of losing a son and the stigma of being “the traitor’s family,” but they will also be completely stripped of the only property their son left behind. Mark, Chloe. You’re not just crushing my hopes, you’re destroying my parents’ last shred of life! My memory flashed back to the spring four years ago, I knelt on one knee, holding a diamond ring. “Chloe, marry me.” She cried as she nodded, “Adam, I do.” We embraced in this house. She said she wanted to hang our wedding photos on this wall. I said yes, we’d take the most beautiful ones. Mark. He was once the brother I respected most. Once, during a drug bust, an out-of-control truck careened towards him. I instinctively pushed him out of the way. Three ribs were broken, and my lung was punctured. Mark held me, his face streaked with tears and snot. “You idiot! Why would you shield me?!” “Because you’re my brother.” I coughed up blood, smiling at him. From then on, I carried a scar that would never fade. Every time Chloe saw it, her heart would ache, and tears would well up. “Does it hurt?” “No, it’s worth it for a brother.” Later, he began to appear frequently in Chloe’s and my life. “This is perfume I had someone bring from abroad. Smell it, see if you like it.” “You must be bored alone at home. I’ll take you to an art exhibition.” “Adam’s not the romantic type. I’ve prepared a surprise for you on his behalf.” Chloe mentioned it to me more than once. “Adam, isn’t he a little *too* good to me? So good it feels… excessive.” “He keeps giving me such expensive gifts. How am I supposed to repay him?” “He always says he’ll take care of me when you’re not around. I think it’s weird.” Each time, I laughed it off for him. “Chloe, he’s just grateful I saved him, he wants to thank you, you know.” “He treats us like his younger siblings, there’s no other meaning.” “We’re brothers. He would never betray me.” Chloe frowned: “But I always feel…” “No buts,” I cut her off. “You women are just too suspicious. Mark is my brother; how could he ever hurt me?” Looking back now, I was the biggest fool on earth. All his care was a prelude to today. Every warm greeting, every thoughtful gift, every gentle gaze, they were all slowly eroding Chloe’s heart. And I, the idiot, couldn’t see it. My most trusted brother stabbed me in the back. Mark, you played your part perfectly.

My memory snapped back to that storm on the Mississippi River three years ago. Three hours before the operation, the witness sent the final intelligence. “The drug lord ‘Ghost Hand’ is bringing heavy firepower this time, and he seems to know we have an operation tonight!” The witness nervously rubbed his hands, his face drenched in sweat. “He also said there’s someone from your team on his side. Be careful!” I looked towards the command vehicle not far away. Mark was gesturing at a map with several high-ranking officials. Noticing my gaze, Mark walked over and clapped me on the chest, “Adam, how are your preparations? Don’t be nervous. This operation is foolproof; we’ve set up a dragnet.” He spoke with certainty, looking completely relaxed. “Mark,” I whispered, “The situation has changed. The witness says Ghost Hand knows about our operation tonight. There’s a traitor in our team!” Mark’s face changed, then quickly regained composure: “Adam, don’t get flustered. How can we trust a single witness? We need to trust command’s judgment. There’s no traitor!” I looked at his complex expression, mistaking it for concern, and secretly made a vow. If there really was a traitor, I would expose him and honor the brothers who were betrayed and sacrificed. Three hours later, the operation began. “All units, attention! Target has entered the designated waters. Prepare to close the net!” Police speedboats swarmed from all directions, gunfire and flashes of light tearing through the Mississippi River night sky. In the fierce battle, “Ghost Hand,” the drug lord’s leader, tried to escape on a speedboat. I couldn’t wait! I looked at Mark, and switched on the voice recorder clipped to my uniform: “Chloe, if I die, live for me, please forget me. I love you.” After saying that, I turned and charged towards the cockpit. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark standing at the bow of the command ship. I thought he would provide cover for me. Just then, Mark’s clear voice came through the communicator. “Command, Adam has betrayed us! He’s stolen the contraband and is trying to escape with the drug lord via Channel B! He’s attacking us!” “Received. All units, attention. Target Adam. You are clear to fire!” The reply from command made me fully understand. Mark was lying. He was deliberately framing me as a traitor. “Boom—!” The collision of the two boats triggered a violent explosion. The world collapsed before my eyes; flames and river water engulfed me. In my last moments before being submerged, I finally understood. This wasn’t a sacrifice; this was a premeditated murder.

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On my eighteenth birthday, I spent the couple hundred dollars I’d painstakingly earned from my part-time job. I invited my parents and brother to a French restaurant. But, in the end, they stood me up. They went to Disneyland with my adopted sister, Luna. The fireworks on their Ins stories stung my eyes. I couldn’t help but call, wanting to demand: Compared to Luna, aren’t I your real family? But before I could even speak, Luna’s voice chirped through the phone: “How could Mom and Dad celebrate your birthday? Don’t you know you were actually picked up from a hospital dumpster?” In that moment, everything that had clouded my mind suddenly became clear. So, I wasn’t their child. Then I didn’t need to beg for their pathetic affection anymore. I filled out the application for Oxford University. Then I bought myself a one-way plane ticket to the UK. I wasn’t coming back, ever. I closed the application page, took a deep breath, and my gaze finally fell upon the special dinner I’d arranged. For this one meal, I’d washed dishes in the school cafeteria kitchen for almost a year. But now, the long table was filled with everything they loved – filet mignon for Mom, her usual; ribeye for Dad, his favorite; garlic lobster tail for Ryan, who could never get enough; and I hadn’t forgotten Luna’s go-to Caesar salad. It wasn’t until I picked up my knife and fork that I realized not a single dish on the entire order was something I liked. But that didn’t matter anymore. When I stopped begging for their fleeting affection, I started learning how to treat myself well. Just like this moment – I found that dining alone could be so peaceful and free; a birthday cake celebrated by no one still tasted soft and sweet. What’s more, the restaurant’s waitstaff came over with twinkling candles, and a warm birthday song gently enveloped me. On this night that was entirely my own, every bite of food softly whispered: You deserve all of this. Today, I wasn’t lonely. Back home, they had returned from Disneyland. Seeing me, Mom’s expression faltered for a moment. Then she handed me a Disney plushie. “Aubrey, your birthday gift.” “I’m sorry, we were going to come celebrate with you, but your sister Luna got into the top ten in her class this time, and we promised her we’d take her to Disneyland if she did well.” “So we changed our plans midway.” “You’ve always been such an understanding kid, you’ll get it, right?” I looked up at this woman who, when I was very little, used to hold me, call me her “sweet pea,” and say she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. I used to adore her so much. Loved her. Desperately wanted to be by her side. But when I came back home after living with relatives in the countryside, I found a new girl already there. Mom started calling only her “sweet pea.” Her hugs were only for Luna. Before, I would have felt jealous and sad. But now, I only felt a sense of calm. It turned out, just like Luna, I was also a child they’d picked up. So, it was normal that they didn’t love me. I nodded slightly, saying flatly: “Yes, I don’t blame you.” After speaking, I didn’t take the plushie that Luna had thrown on the ground and stomped on, as seen in her Ins story. I walked straight towards my room. Behind me, I heard Mom’s disgruntled voice. “We got her a gift, and she’s still like this.” “She doesn’t know how to be affectionate, no wonder I don’t like her.” Luna’s whiny voice followed: “It’s all my fault, making a fuss about going to Disneyland.” “Aubrey must be mad at me. I shouldn’t have said anything about a reward, boohoohoo…” My departing steps were suddenly blocked by a force from the side. Ryan violently shoved me to the ground. My forehead hit the corner of the wall, sending a sharp pain through me. “Aubrey Evans, apologize to Luna right now!” “So what if we didn’t celebrate your birthday today? You just had to make the whole family miserable.” Ryan sneered at me, spitting out cruel words, one by one: “But you, a foundling picked up from a dumpster, what makes you think you’re worth our time and effort to celebrate your birthday?”

I looked up, stunned, at Ryan. The sneer on his face only widened. “Don’t play dumb here. I know you heard everything Luna said on the phone.” “Yes, you were found.” “That’s why we favor Luna, and why we hate you. That’s why we kept you away in the countryside until you were twelve.” “Because you have nothing to do with our family.” I looked at Mom and Dad again; they watched me in silence. Finally, they quietly nodded. My palm trembled, and something inside me completely shattered. Ryan gritted his teeth and said: “Now you know how out of line you’ve been, right? You and Luna, you were both adopted by our family.” “But you’ve been acting like you’re our biological daughter, constantly competing with Luna.” “What right do you, an outsider, a loser who always scores at the bottom of the class, have to compete? It’s laughable.” “You want us to celebrate your birthday? Get into the top ten in your class then!” Luna, hiding behind Ryan, smirked mockingly at me. I suddenly found it utterly pointless. Laughable, indeed. What right did I, an adopted daughter just like Luna, have to compete? Even though I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t actually “found.” Since I returned to this house at age 12, my life had been a living hell. If I got a little closer to Mom and Dad, Luna would get upset. If my test scores were better than hers, she’d be unhappy. If a teacher praised me, Luna would throw a huge tantrum at home. To keep Luna happy, they forbade me from getting close to them. They wouldn’t let me score better than Luna on exams. They even forbade me from excelling academically or being praised by teachers at school, because Luna would be unhappy. If I didn’t comply, they’d lock me in the dark basement until I gave in. So, at 15, fed up, I took strands of their hair. I secretly went to a DNA test center. I thought, I must not be their child. If I were biological, they would never treat me this way. I wanted to get the test results and apply to live in an orphanage. But to my surprise, the results confirmed a parent-child relationship. I was, in fact, their biological daughter. The moment I saw the results, I almost broke down. I didn’t understand why, if I was their biological child, they preferred an adopted daughter and refused to love me. Was it just because I had lived for twelve years with the grandmother my mother hated the most? And so, by extension, they hated me too? I had pondered this question for eighteen years, never finding an answer. But in this moment, I finally understood. Not all family members naturally love their own children. Since that was the case, there was no point in forcing it. I would just pretend I was found. After all, I had never truly had a family anyway. I wiped the blood from my forehead, stood up, and gave Luna a deep, sarcastic bow, saying: “I’m sorry, Luna.” “Before, I didn’t know the truth, and I constantly defied you. From now on, I, who am merely a guest here, will never again be so presumptuous.” Yes. Never again. If I wasn’t even their biological child, why should I keep fighting for their love? Luna covered her mouth, as if startled, and said: “Aubrey, what are you saying?” “No matter if you’re adopted or anything else, in my heart, you’re my older sister.” “Your forehead is bleeding again, let me see…” Her outstretched hand was yanked away by Ryan. “Don’t bother with her. She loves to play the victim.” “Be careful she doesn’t use your kindness against you and twist things around.” Each word cut me like a knife. I awkwardly wiped away the tears that stung my eyes – physical tears rather than emotional. I covered my wound and walked towards my room. Mom and Dad looked at me, a flicker of emotion seemed to cross their faces. But they looked at Ryan and Luna, and in the end, said nothing. The moment I closed the door, I heard Mom say: “Ryan, did we overdo it?” “What if Aubrey actually believes we picked her up?” Ryan laughed: “Wouldn’t that be better? She’s always so competitive, always fighting with Luna over everything. This is a good way to punish her.” “We planned it all out. We’ll tell her the truth after the SATs. It’s not too late.” I smiled self-deprecatingly. I quietly closed the door. Ryan. I don’t need to know the truth anymore. The identity of being found is just fine. Let it be.

I sat in my room, wiping my wound in front of the mirror. The past eighteen years slowly replayed before my eyes. Sometimes, it was a tiny me, sitting by the village entrance day after day, waiting for Mom to pick me up. Then it was me, after Grandma passed away, realizing there was no place for me in this family. There was also me, framed by Luna for breaking her birthday gift, then slapped hard by Ryan. And me, scorned by Mom and Dad, who said they wished they hadn’t taken me back, crying on the floor, feeling utterly wronged. Finally, it all turned into… me, waiting at that fancy restaurant for my family to celebrate my birthday. But they never came. Creak— The door suddenly pushed open. Without turning, I knew it was Luna. This was her favorite tactic. After I’d been reprimanded by the whole family because of her, she’d come to gloat under the guise of comforting me. “Aubrey, are you very sad?” she said with a grin. “Knowing you’re adopted too, do you feel like dying?” “You know, we’re both adopted daughters, so who’s nobler than whom? You still fight with me every day.” “But you can’t win against me in the end, you’re really so ridiculous.” “Mom and Dad, and Ryan, I’m the one they’ve always loved.” After she finished, she covered her mouth and burst out laughing. She had said things like this to me countless times. Each time, it made me furious. Because of it, I had slapped her. I had poured milk on her. But this time, I found it utterly meaningless. I wiped the wound on my forehead and said flatly: “Since you’re so happy, then they’re all yours. Completely.” Perhaps my expression was too calm. It robbed Luna of some of her pleasure. She glared at me viciously: “Don’t act all superior and pretend to be magnanimous here.” “In the end, you’re just a loser who can’t win against me, I’m telling you.” “Everything I have now, I fought for it, you didn’t give it to me. Now I’m going to make you see reality clearly.” With that, she messed up her own hair. Then she threw herself to the ground, screaming: “Aubrey, don’t hit me!” “I won’t go to Disneyland ever again!”

The door was violently flung open. The next second, Mom’s hand landed hard on my face. “Aubrey, how could you treat your sister like this?” “You’re nothing but a rotten seed!” Mom’s words were incredibly harsh, making me tremble with hurt. Dad huffed as he helped Luna up from the floor: “Aubrey, you’ve really gone too far this time.” “We know you’re jealous that Luna scores better than you, and that she pleases us more.” “But why haven’t you recognized your place?” “You’re just an adopted daughter in our family, an orphan of unknown origin picked up from a dumpster. Your background isn’t even as respectable as Luna’s.” “At least we know her parents were our deceased friends.” “You, a worthless stray, what right do you have to compete with Luna?” Worthless stray? Dad’s words were like a sharp sword piercing my heart, making me ache so much I wanted to double over. Ryan glared at me like I was his enemy and said: “I think some people are just too comfortable in our house.” “Since that’s the case, get out of here right now! After all, you’re just a stray we picked up from a dumpster.” “If we don’t teach you a lesson, I don’t think you’ll ever learn gratitude.” With that, Ryan shoved me out of the mansion. Then, my luggage was roughly thrown out after me. Mom, Dad, Ryan, and Luna stood on the steps of the villa, looking down at me. They looked like true strangers. My eyes stung. What was I still hoping for? This was it. I opened my mouth and heard myself say: “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, for raising me all these years. Now that I know my true identity, it’s really not convenient for me to live here anymore.” “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, for raising me all these years. Now that I know my true identity, it’s really not convenient for me to live here anymore. Please give me my passport.” I wanted my passport to leave. Mom scoffed: “What do you need a passport for? Going abroad, are we?” Ryan jeered: “Her? Going abroad? What good would it do even if we gave it to her?” Ryan threw my passport at my face. Then he ruthlessly slammed the door shut. Ryan’s voice pierced through the door: “Mom, Dad, don’t be soft. If we don’t teach her a lesson, she’ll never learn!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “322487”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn