My husband Adrian Holt’s cheating scandal had just blown up online, and I jumped right in to clean up the mess. “My husband didn’t cheat. I was jealous and made up the whole thing about him and his secretary, Monica. I apologize to her.” The internet erupted: “Lying bitch! Go to hell!” “You think we’re stupid? Get your head checked!” Staring at the screen full of hate, I called Adrian. “Are you happy now?” He laughed softly. “If only you’d been this reasonable before. As a reward, I’ll make time for your prenatal visit. But tomorrow I’m taking Monica to Iceland to see the lights. Move your appointment.” After I hung up, the doctor behind me pressed the form toward me, voice urgent. “You need to sign the termination consent now, or you won’t make it through the night.” I survived. I stayed in the hospital for seven days. Adrian never came to see me. After leaving, my first stop was a shabby clinic on the edge of town. Ten years ago, it was here that Adrian had knelt beside my mother’s hospital bed and sworn his vow. “I’ll love Emma forever. I’ll never let her suffer, not even a little.” Behind the clinic, in the back alley under an old locust tree, we had buried a metal box together. We promised to open it in ten years. The box was rusted shut, but the paper inside remained almost whole. The first line was in Adrian’s bold, sweeping handwriting: “To my dearest Miss Rayne, my future wife. I wonder how you have spent this past decade.” Seeing the intimate way he’d addressed me on the page, I felt a sharp, cold irony. “Did he buy you a ring?” Yes. A small diamond I’d cherished like a treasure, though it wasn’t a tenth the size of the one on Monica’s hand. “How’s the company? Are we married?” The company had grown larger and larger, and so had the circle of women around him. Every time I mentioned marriage, Adrian found a way to deflect. And so we remained-ten years, tangled together with no ceremony. “Do we have a baby?” We did. Once. Stillborn, his little body purple and blue. He never made a sound. And now I was pregnant again, because Monica wanted a child as a novelty. Adrian said she was a career woman who couldn’t afford to sacrifice her figure or her time, so he wanted me to carry it for them. But the child was deformed. Carrying it would kill me. The next question was mine. “Mr. Holt, what do you think has been the most important thing in our relationship over these ten years?” What would Adrian answer? Probably trust. After all, he used to snap, “Emma, can’t you just trust me? Monica and I are nothing. She’s an asset to the company, not your rival.” I’d tried to convince myself that they were just work partners. But the way they looked at each other didn’t lie. And their behavior certainly didn’t lie. I remembered the morning of his first board meeting as CEO. I’d gotten up early to iron his shirt and chosen a royal blue tie. Just after I’d carefully knotted it for him, Monica breezed through the door, holding up another tie with a laugh. “Adrian, today’s occasion is particularly formal. I’d suggest this subtle-patterned tie instead-it’s more dignified.” Adrian barely hesitated. He untied the knot I’d just made and put on the one from Monica’s hand. He patted my shoulder. “Monica’s been by my side long enough that she understands these dress codes better than you do.”

The second place I went was the sea. For ten years I’d said I wanted a wedding by the ocean. It never happened. I lay alone on the yacht’s bed, aching from the lingering pain of surgery. Monica called, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Adrian’s packing for Iceland today. Be a dear and do it for him, won’t you? I’ll swing by to collect his things soon.” She paused, then laughed lightly. “But don’t bother with underwear. I bought new ones-he loves both the size and style.” The cramping in my lower abdomen suddenly intensified. I bit my lip hard, not letting myself make a sound. In the past, every time Monica jabbed at me like this, I would lose control. Like hysterically calling Adrian to interrogate him, or storming straight to HR to have them fire Monica. Just like last week, when Monica had feigned concern. “Emma, they say a woman’s body changes after childbirth. Things get…looser down there. That’s why Adrian doesn’t want me to have a baby. So thank you for taking on this trouble for me.” I’d smashed up her office on the spot. The commotion attracted swarms of media coverage. After that, scandalous stories about Adrian and his secretary were everywhere. Right at the critical stage before going public, this was a devastating blow to Adrian’s company. He ordered me to publicly clear Monica’s name as soon as possible. “If you keep making trouble, the moment that baby in your belly is born, I’ll take it away. You’ll never see it for the rest of your life.” On my bedside table sat a painting of sunflowers. My mother had painted it. It was the only thing I’d taken from home. Originally, my mother had left me many things, but later, to pay off debts, I’d sold everything except this one painting. On countless sleepless nights, seeing that painting brought me some small measure of comfort. I reached out to grab it. The painting crashed to the floor. Something fell out from behind it. I forgot about the pain and froze completely. Inside were actually some photos of Adrian from when he was young. When my mother first brought him to the city, he was only seventeen. In the photo, the teenager wore a faded, well-washed old T-shirt, his back ramrod straight, his eyes naive but sharp. Back then, his back didn’t yet bear those hideous scars. My mother had fully funded his college education. After graduation, I naturally joined my father’s company too, and our futures looked bright. Until my philandering father died in a stripper’s bed. The illegitimate children who’d always been invisible suddenly showed their claws, fighting over my father’s inheritance. In the end, all I was left with was a shell of a company with only ten employees, and massive debts. My mother had a heart attack and collapsed too. But Adrian stayed with me through it all. The debt collectors were relentless. We hid and ran, living in constant fear every day. Once, we were cornered in an alley. He immediately pulled me into his arms: “Don’t be afraid! I’m here!” The scars on his back were all left from that time.

We survived the hardest two years and finally paid off all the debts. The company finally started showing signs of improvement. I tentatively brought it up. “We should get married.” But he froze for a moment, then smiled and ruffled my hair. “What’s the rush? Now’s not the right time. Wait a little longer. Once I’ve saved enough money to get you the most dazzling wedding ring and throw you a wedding of the century, then you can marry me in style.” He leaned down to kiss me, to soothe me. “Don’t worry. You’re the only one who’ll ever be my wife. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” After that, his social engagements visibly increased. And a new secretary appeared by his side. Monica began infiltrating every corner of Adrian’s life. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late. I fought with him countless times. I gave him two choices: either fire Monica, or marry me. He stayed silent and chose neither. The disappointment in my heart kept accumulating. When I got pregnant for the first time, our cold war was at its worst. During pregnancy, I threw up violently, my legs swelled badly, and I’d wake up at night with cramps. He rarely came home. I toughed it out alone. He knew I loved the ocean. As usual, he booked a five-day, five-night luxury cruise for my birthday. But on the deck, I saw Monica, smiling and radiant. On the second day of the trip, the cruise ship had a sinking accident. Terrified crowds surged toward the lifeboats. Holding my heavy belly, I was panicked and helpless. He’d paid a premium for two spots on a lifeboat. He’d just climbed aboard and immediately reached out to help me. But Monica rushed out in a panic, crying and pushing me aside. “Adrian, she’s pregnant-the rescue crew will definitely prioritize getting her on the next boat! But what about me…” Adrian actually hesitated. The crowd jostled violently. Something fell from above. I slipped, and instantly the seawater swallowed me. “Emma!” When I woke up, agonizing pain radiated from my lower body. The doctor told me the baby was dead. A boy. I only looked at him once before tears poured out uncontrollably-his features looked so much like Adrian’s. Halfway through the cruise, I stumbled out of bed. I opened the urn I’d brought from home. “Baby,” I said softly to the churning waves, “Mommy is so sorry.” “Is it okay if Mommy leaves you here?” My tears blurred my vision. I scattered the ashes across the ocean surface. After losing the baby, I became more and more silent. Whether Adrian spoke sweetly or exploded in rage, I couldn’t even be bothered to lift my eyelids in response. He couldn’t take it anymore. He threw himself at my bedside, his eyes red as he roared. “What do you want from me so you’ll forgive me? Tell me!” After that, he came home almost every night, forcibly sharing the bed with me. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t respond either. I got pregnant again. Looking at the pregnancy test results, I felt a faint stirring in my heart. I hoped the child could come back to me. Adrian finally agreed to promise he would cut things off with Monica completely. His schedule became more regular. Occasionally, he’d bring home a bouquet of lilies to help me sleep. At night, he would wrap his arms around my increasingly heavy waist from behind. Maybe this child’s arrival really could change something. But not long after, I found a pair of stockings in Adrian’s suit pocket that didn’t belong to me. They still carried Monica’s body heat, like a slap across my face. I went to the company in a daze. Through the glass, I saw Monica-the one Adrian said he’d already fired. Her workstation was right across from Adrian’s, with a large bouquet of lilies on her desk. When she saw me, she wasn’t surprised at all. She even provocatively raised her left ring finger, showing off her ring. I grabbed everything within reach and smashed it wildly at that glaring scene! Adrian rushed out, his face ashen with fury. In his rage, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “Who let you in here? This is the office! If you want to make a scene, go home and do it there!” I covered my face, looking at the disgust in his eyes. How did we get to this point? After the scandal broke, the stock price plummeted. The board was in chaos. Adrian ordered me to immediately clear Monica’s name. “Issue a statement saying everything was your delusional imagination from a mental breakdown! Otherwise-” his threatening gaze slid toward my swollen belly. “I want to see your clarification statement before I leave the country. Monica’s been in a bad mood lately. I’m taking her to Iceland to relax-she’s always loved the Northern Lights there.” The last place I went was the cemetery. Today was the anniversary of my mother’s death. I gently pressed my cheek against the gravestone and whispered, “Mom, I came to see you.” I lit the paper money I’d brought. Then I took out the sunflower painting and gently placed it in the fire. Finally, there was a stack of Adrian’s photos. My fingertips brushed over that familiar yet strange face in the photos as his features twisted and warped in the flames. Everything burned. I burned what my mother had left me. I burned the last trace of my feelings for him. After losing that baby, I truly had no one left. I unlocked my phone. A tidal wave of hatred flooded the screen. There was nothing left in this world to stay for. I slowly drew out the dagger I’d prepared. I pressed its edge to the inside of my left wrist. I pushed down hard. Bright red blood gushed out, trickling down my pale wrist and dripping onto the cold stone base of the gravestone. Then, a familiar ringtone cut through the silence.

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My mafia boss husband brought his henchmen home for dinner. Seeing the table full of dishes I’d cooked myself, one of his subordinates chuckled and said, “A wife really is more virtuous than a mistress.” I stilled, then asked carefully. “What? Are you saying he has a mistress outside?” No one dared to answer. A flicker of panic flashed across their faces. My husband just laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t listen to their nonsense. You’re the only one I love!” Watching him play it so cool, I smiled back. But once the last guest was gone, I called my CEO brother. “Victor’s cheating. Make sure he rots in prison.” My brother Alex was silent on the other end for three full seconds. “Serena, are you absolutely sure? Victor, he…” I pulled off my wedding ring. The diamond dug painfully into my palm. “Ten years of marriage. Every cufflink he’s ever worn was custom-ordered by me from Italy. The ones he had on tonight were cheap plastic. Get me the best lawyer. Pull every criminal record he’s ever generated. And draw up the divorce papers.” Alex didn’t hesitate. “Okay.” Half an hour later, an encrypted file landed on my phone. The first photo showed Victor, his arm around a young, striking woman. She even had a wolf’s head tattoo on her wrist-identical to Victor’s. I didn’t hesitate. I drove straight to the company. Minutes later, a woman named Lily rushed out. When she saw me, her face went pale. She instinctively hid her hands behind her back. But I’d already seen it. A Swiss custom watch. It’s identical to the one I received for my last birthday. I laughed coldly and said directly. “Your husband must share my taste. Even your custom watch matches mine.” At my words, Lily began to tremble. Her red lips parted and closed soundlessly before she managed to stammer. “Y-yes… maybe men all have similar tastes…” Her knuckles were white where she clutched her clothes. “Drop the act. You’re Victor’s mistress, aren’t you?” Seeing me lay it bare, Lily shook harder, panic stripping her composure bare. “Please, don’t misunderstand. Victor was injured once. I only took care of him that one time. His men…they got the wrong idea.” She even gave me an exaggerated ninety-degree bow. She looked so wronged, so pitiful-if I hadn’t seen exactly how she wrapped herself around Victor, I might have believed her. Half a month ago, she posted a video on social media. It showed Victor buying a Porsche. Her caption read: “Where a man’s money goes, his heart follows.” At that time, I was at home with a fever so high I was delirious. I called Victor to take me to the hospital. He panicked for a moment, but the next second his voice was hoarse, as if suppressing something. “Serena, I’ll have the nanny take you. I have something urgent I can’t get away from.” And an hour later, the fever turned into pneumonia, and I was rushed to the ER. That same hour, she posted a photo lying across a car seat, with a man’s sculpted abs in the frame, marked with ambiguous red scratches. The caption read: “Both the new car and its owner need to be marked as mine.” When Victor finally rushed over, his shirt was still misbuttoned. He collapsed at my bedside, his eyes red. At that time, I naively thought he felt sorry for me, but it turned out it was just guilt after cheating. For no reason, I just felt disgusted. This kind of trash was worth Victor betraying me for. Too lazy to look at her aggrieved, pitiful expression anymore, I turned and left. But just as I got to my car, Victor called. The moment I answered, his tone was panicked. “Why did you suddenly think of coming to the company?”

“Why?” I started the car and asked back leisurely. “I just happened to have a contract to discuss. Is there something you’re afraid of me knowing?” Victor seemed not to have expected me to ask this. His breathing suddenly stopped, and after a few seconds of silence, his tone suddenly softened, carrying his usual coaxing tone. “Serena, what nonsense are you talking about?” “How could I be hiding anything from you? The office was just too messy. If you were coming, I’d have someone clean it up first.” “Besides, how could I betray you? You can investigate all you want.” Hearing this, I was somewhat puzzled. Lily hadn’t actually told him about me confronting her. I flipped through the evidence while listening to his excuses. Three gigabytes of materials, every day related to Victor. Last Valentine’s Day, he claimed he was on a business trip abroad and couldn’t call, but he was actually watching the Northern Lights in the Arctic with Lily. When my father was critically ill and I called him over thirty times, he didn’t answer a single one-he was celebrating Lily’s birthday. “I believe you. But what about that watch?” Seeing me bring it up first, Victor actually seemed relieved. His voice drew closer to the receiver, deliberately creating intimacy. “The watch was because I suddenly fainted at the company, and Lily happened to pass by and helped me to the hospital.” He paused, then continued. “She watched over me all night, so I gave her a watch as a thank-you gift. I forgot to tell you at the time.” Forgot? His memory must be really bad. Not only did he forget to tell me this, he also forgot that they went to the hotel’s penthouse suite that night. And stayed for three whole days. Laughing coldly inside, “She’s quite considerate. Even the black shirt you were wearing when you fainted-the next day she washed it clean and returned it, even ironed it properly.” Victor clearly paused on the other end, his breathing missing a beat, then he laughed it off. “Exactly, the girl is very attentive.” “Look at you, always being so paranoid. You’re the only one in my heart.” His voice drew close to the receiver, deliberately creating intimacy. “After I finish this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives to make up for our vacation, okay? Just the two of us.” The tenderness that used to make me soften-now I just felt disgusted. “Sounds good.” I watched the neon lights flash past the window, my tone as calm as discussing the weather. “But you handle your business first. Don’t let anything delay you.” “Nothing could delay spending time with you.” Victor’s voice carried eager pleasing, but I only felt colder inside. Not because Victor betrayed me and cheated, but because I couldn’t believe they’d been performing under my nose for so long. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I forced down the urge to confront Victor immediately. I wanted him to personally admit his relationship with Lily, then watch this pair of cheating scum fall from grace. After a few perfunctory responses, I hung up. Just then, Lily’s social media account updated again. In the image, she wore a wedding dress with an intricate design covered in diamonds, her eyes and brows full of joy. “Another mistress came to make trouble today, wanting to take my place. Victor compensated me-he’s finally going to marry me!” “I just mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and he bought me an entire castle.” She smiled into the camera, which casually panned over property deeds. “And these vineyards-he wants me to manage them!” “How could a little fool like me handle that? Luckily, Victor agreed to come and back me up, so those people won’t look down on me for being young!” Watching the video and seeing my own French name printed on those deeds, a cold rage rose inside me. Those vineyards were Alex’s coming-of-age gift to me. And Victor was using them to charm his mistress. Fine. They want to establish authority? Then let’s see them try it in front of the real owner.

I bought a plane ticket that night and flew to France. At the winery, the old butler’s eyes flashed with surprise when he saw me. “Miss Serena, why are you here? Didn’t you say you were lending the estate to Victor for a party today? You even had all the family members cleared out.” Anger surged through me. Just as I was about to respond, Victor’s call came through. “I’m in a meeting here. I’ll fly back to be with you as soon as I’m done.” Before I could answer, a sickeningly sweet female voice came through faintly from the other end. “Victor, does this look good on me?” The next second, Victor covered the phone and walked away. “Gotta go, meeting’s starting.” Almost simultaneously, the ornate gates of the winery were pushed open, and over a dozen luxury cars pulled up one by one at the fountain plaza. Countless people I’d never seen were seated, and I found a secluded spot to sit down too. Once everything was ready, Lily made her entrance in a fire-red haute couture gown, every inch the newly successful upstart. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Lily, the new owner of this winery.” “Victor said from now on, the wine here, the castle-even every single grape in the vineyard-all belongs to me!” “To celebrate, all wines are thirty percent off today. Consider it my greeting gift to everyone!” Thirty percent off? How generous of her. The cheapest wine here costs at least a million dollars a bottle. Some were collector’s items even the British royal family would hesitate to acquire! The old butler who’d watched me grow up was livid. “Since when did this vineyard become hers!” “And Victor is actually cheating on Miss Serena with some…fling! Has he lost his mind!” Seeing the butler ready to storm out, I shook my head quickly. It wasn’t time to expose her yet. I wanted to wait for Victor to personally admit his relationship with Lily, then watch this pair of cheating scum fall from grace. Just then, the ornate doors opened again, and Victor walked in wearing a haute couture suit. Seeing this, Lily immediately threw herself into his arms, smiling as she tugged on his arm playfully. “Victor, I told you this brand’s clothes fit you best.” Victor’s eyes clearly stiffened, but he still nodded without changing expression. And the fire of anger inside me was nearly burning out of control. The founder of this brand was our mortal enemy. Back then, my father was set up by them and literally died of anger because of it. Victor wasn’t ignorant of this, yet now he was publicly slapping me in the face. Just as I couldn’t hold back anymore and was about to rush out, all of Victor’s friends crowded around. “Victor, she’s so young and vibrant, so lively and charming!” “Lily, our Victor gave you a winery worth hundreds of millions. Where else would you find such a good man!” “This winery is yours now. How are you going to thank our Victor?” Amid their laughter, Lily looked down, a blush coloring her cheeks. Just then, the winery manager who had come to deliver the wine spoke up, confused. “Wait. Didn’t you borrow this place from Miss Serena?” The guests fell silent, then turned to each other, murmuring. “What is she talking about?” “I thought this vineyard belonged to Mrs. Blackwood. But isn’t she a Sterling?” “Huh? But this woman is a Reed. Is she…an imposter?” The manager’s face already showed anger. “How could you do such a thing behind Miss Serena’s back!” As he spoke, he was about to pull out his phone to call me. The next second, the bodyguards behind Victor swarmed forward and forced the manager to his knees. Victor’s cold gaze swept across everyone present. “Tear out his mouth. Let him know the price of talking nonsense.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the ruthlessness unique to someone long in power. The banquet hall instantly fell silent. Victor didn’t even lift an eyelid, his fingertips casually caressing Lily’s face. “Lily is the Mrs. Blackwood! Serena is just a maid in my household.” A servant? I almost laughed from anger. It seems Victor has truly forgotten who it was that pushed him, step by step, to stand above everyone else. Had it not been for me back then, he’d still be a nobody on the streets, getting kicked around. I spent ten years fighting by his side. I took two knife wounds to the chest. I had Alex pull strings in the shadows. When I was hovering between life and death, all I thought about was how to clear the path for him. I never expected that in the end, I’d just be the “maid” in his story. No one there dared contradict Victor, so they all played along. “So that’s how it is! Mrs. Blackwood is so generous, letting her maid parade around under the Blackwood name.” Someone even turned to advise Lily. “Mrs. Blackwood, a maid like that might try to seduce Victor at any moment.” “You should be careful. I’d fire her immediately.” “With that kind of malice, she deserves to be thrown into the sea!” The smugness on Lily’s face was impossible to miss. The manager’s face was ashen. Even as he was being dragged away, he kept fighting. “I need to see Miss Serena! She’s the real Mrs. Blackwood!” The guests looked on with disdain. “That maid is truly cunning. Even the winery manager was deceived by her!” “Ungrateful wretch! Victor, you can’t possibly keep her around. ” Victor’s cold gaze swept over the crowd, his thin lips parting slightly. “I’ll say this once more. Lily is my wife. From now on, anyone who disrespects her will face the consequences.” The scene fell completely silent, with only me slowly clapping. The applause made everyone turn around. I took off my baseball cap and looked at them coldly. “Tell me. If she’s Mrs. Blackwood, who am I?” The smiles on Victor’s and Lily’s faces instantly froze.

The air in the banquet hall seemed to freeze instantly. The guests’ gazes all slammed onto me, from initial confusion to recognizing my face, gasping in shock. The smug smile on Lily’s face instantly froze. She instinctively shrank behind Victor, her fingers clutching his sleeve trembling uncontrollably, her voice shaking. “You… how can you be here?” I ignored her, only staring at Victor. His pupils suddenly contracted, panic flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by his usual ruthlessness. He released Lily’s waist and walked to my side, his voice carrying barely noticeable panic. “Serena? How did you get here? Didn’t I tell you to wait at home?” “Wait at home?” I repeated those words, smiling as I looked up at that familiar face, then spoke softly, “Wait for you to give away my winery to someone else, or wait for you to publicly declare I’m your household servant?” Victor’s expression instantly darkened. After a moment, he seemed to have controlled his emotions. He lowered his head, deliberately lowering his voice, trying to plead, “There are too many people here with loose lips. This isn’t the place to talk.” “Serena, come home with me first.” “Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it when we get home. I’ll explain everything to you slowly later.” He tried to reach for my wrist, the movement as practiced as countless times he’d coaxed me over the past ten years. But looking at the cheap plastic button on his cuff, smelling the perfume on him that didn’t belong to me, I only felt my stomach turn. I quickly stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Explain?” I laughed, the sound particularly jarring in the silent banquet hall. “Explain why you’re wearing a suit from our enemy’s brand?” “Explain why you turned the winery my brother gave me into a gift for your mistress?” “Or explain just how pleased you felt when you called me a servant?” Victor’s face went from red to white. He probably hadn’t expected me to tear off the facade publicly, and the panic in his eyes could no longer be hidden. He gritted his teeth, his voice even lower, almost pressed against my ear: “Serena, stop making a scene!” “Do you really want to embarrass me in this kind of setting? Just come with me first. I’m begging you.” “Please?” He tried to use his past intimate tone to soften me, but I only found it ironic. Back when he was being chased and beaten on the streets, I was the one who carried him three blocks to find a doctor. When he was slashed by rivals and lying on the operating table, I was the one who signed the critical condition notice and kept vigil outside the operating room for three days and nights. “Victor,” I looked up at him, my gaze as cold as ice, “do you think there’s still a ‘later’?” Victor’s face completely lost all color. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so unforgiving. “Serena, must you do this?” He almost spoke through gritted teeth, “Ten years of our relationship-can’t you give me a chance to explain?” “Relationship?” I pulled out a stack of documents from my bag and threw them viciously in his face. Papers scattered across the floor, the top one showing hotel penthouse suite records for him and Lily. “When you were tangled up with her while I was unconscious with fever, how come you didn’t think about our relationship then?” Victor was hit by the documents and turned his head, veins bulging on his neck. The next second, he turned back viciously, his eyes flashing with hatred I couldn’t understand. “Serena, then don’t blame me.” Victor suddenly turned around and shouted. “This woman is not Mrs. Blackwood at all! She’s just a maid hired by the Blackwood family!” “Back then her family was so poor they couldn’t make ends meet. I was kind enough to take her in, give her food and clothes, let her work as a servant in my house!” He pointed at my nose, the ruthlessness in his eyes almost overflowing. “Never thought she’d have such ambitions-seeing my successful career, she tried to climb into my bed and even dared to forge an identity and swagger around outside!” Lily immediately cooperated by tearing up, hiding behind him and choking out. “Victor, don’t say that… Serena was just confused for a moment…” As she spoke, she secretly glanced up to observe the guests’ reactions, unable to hide her smugness. Several of Victor’s friends immediately stepped forward to agree. “That’s right! We all know!” “This woman is just a maid. Just because she stayed with the Blackwood family for a long time, she wanted to climb the social ladder!” “Victor has been more than kind to her, yet she dares come here and make trouble. Truly shameless!” The guests’ discussions grew louder, their gazes toward me filled with contempt and disgust. Some pointed at me, and some even whispered, “So she’s a fraud. Looks respectable on the outside, but her thoughts are so dirty.” Victor watched this scene, a twisted smile appearing on his face. He stepped forward, closing in before me, threatening in a voice only we could hear. “Serena, be smart and get out of here yourself. Otherwise I’ll make you completely disgraced here, without even a way to survive!” Looking at his ferocious face, I only found it incredibly laughable. The old butler trembled with rage, his finger shaking as he pointed at Victor. “You… you ungrateful wretch!” “If Miss Serena hadn’t pulled every string to save you back then, you’d have rotted in prison!” “She cut ties with her family for you. She took a blade for you and almost died. How dare you treat her like this?” Victor’s face flushed then paled, clearly unprepared for the old butler to lay his past bare in public. A ruthless light flooded his eyes. Just then, Lily, who had been hiding behind him playing pitiful, slifted her head. A vicious glint flashed in her gaze. She clutched Victor’s sleeve, her voice a timid whisper, but the words that followed were pure venom. “Victor…I know I shouldn’t say this… but if Serena keeps making trouble like this…won’t it ruin your important deal?” She paused, as if gathering courage, and looked toward the guests. Her voice trembled, yet every word carried clearly. “I’ve heard the brothers say before…when dealing with people who mean you harm… they usually…throw them into the ocean.”

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After being diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, I begged enough money for a sea burial. But the day before the funeral, my ex-husband Adrian dragged me back to his mansion to take the fall for his precious darling. My daughter cursed me, my brother crushed my medication, and the whole internet waited to watch the “vicious ex-wife” become a joke. They didn’t know about the will in my pocket, or that the blood I coughed up had already stained my burial contract. Only after I died alone in a prison cell and the autopsy report went public did they start clawing for my remains. But it was too late. Two years later, I returned under a new name, backed by billions. This time, I would personally grind everything they cared about most into dust, piece by piece. Vivian’s POV Three months after being diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, I had finally begged enough money for a sea burial. Before I could even reach the funeral home to sign the papers, Adrian dragged me back to the manor. Faced with my foul beggar’s clothes, his eyes filled with disgust as he tossed a black card at me. “Take the money and go clean yourself up. Don’t let Miranda see you looking like a ghost.” The house full of servants and Lorelei all waited to watch the show. After all, in their eyes, after disappearing for three years, I could only be coming back to fight for the inheritance. I walked past the black card and picked up a coin that the bodyguard had knocked from my hands earlier. Without that dollar, even the cheapest sea burial would be beyond my reach, leaving me to rot in some nameless ditch. “Daddy! Throw that dirty thing out!” My daughter Miranda screamed, hands clamped over her nose, her face twisted in horror. “She’s ruining Lorelei’s carpet! My body stiffened. This was my own daughter, who I’d carried for ten months. Now, in her eyes, I was nothing but a foul-smelling rat. Adrian gently covered his daughter’s mouth and nose, his own eyes fixed on me with disgust. “Miranda, come here.” Lorelei gently pulled Miranda over and held her in her arms. The sight made me physically sick. Lorelei was the adopted daughter of my family and Adrian’s precious white moonlight. Five years ago, Adrian was convinced I had schemed to trap him into marriage, tearing him apart from Lorelei. So in his eyes, all the suffering I endured was well-deserved. “Vivian, what happened to your hands?” Lorelei looked at my deformed hands with feigned shock. A leather shoe pressed down hard on the back of my hand. Years ago, to let Lorelei win the championship at a piano competition, my own brother Marcus personally took a hammer and broke all ten of my fingers. We both carried the same family blood, yet in everyone’s eyes, only the adopted daughter Lorelei mattered. Marcus pressed down with his foot, grinding over my finger bones. “Don’t think you can gain sympathy with this pathetic display. Lorelei is the pride of this family.” Adrian watched coldly without stopping him. Only after Marcus had vented did he point to the utility room under the stairs and say: “Since you’re back, you’ll live there from now on. Don’t come out unless necessary.”

Vivian’s POV The next morning I was woken by the sound of pounding on my door. “What time is it and you’re still in bed?” A servant mocked loudly through the door. “This family doesn’t support idle people. Do you still think you’re the heiress you used to be?” I braced myself against the edge of the bed and sat up, a tearing pain suddenly shooting through my chest. The violent coughing made me curl into a ball. A puddle of thick phlegm mixed with stark blood threads appeared in my palm. I walked to the sink in the corner and turned on the faucet to wash it away. The doctor said I had less than three months to live. Now it seemed he was still too optimistic. The dining room was filled with exquisite breakfast foods. “Vivian, you’re awake?” When Lorelei saw me, she immediately showed a sweet smile. “The housekeeper specially made your favorite toast.” She pointed to the seat beside her, her tone sincere: “These years while you were away, I temporarily took care of this home for you. Now that you’re back, I should return things to you.” She had used this move for twenty years and was still so practiced at it. “Since you were taking care of things.” I looked up at her. “When exactly do you plan to return everything to me?” The smile on Lorelei’s face froze for a moment. She clearly hadn’t expected that the fool she once manipulated would now dare to talk back publicly. “I…” She bit her lip and looked toward Adrian. A strong smell of greasy food drifted into my nostrils. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and covered my mouth, dry heaving. Lorelei gasped in surprise, covering her mouth. “You couldn’t be… pregnant, could you?” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for everyone present to hear clearly. “These years you’ve been wandering outside, I heard those places can be quite chaotic…” Adrian slammed down his knife and fork. He looked up, his gaze cutting into me like a knife. “Vivian.” He said through gritted teeth. “You disgust me.” “How could a woman like you be worthy of being Miranda’s mother?” I straightened up and wiped the sour liquid from the corner of my mouth. Looking at this man before me, his face full of disgust. Shameless? Who was it that threw me into an underground gambling den to fend for myself, just to force me to give up custody? Who was it that cut off my income, leaving me to fight with stray dogs over a piece of bread? Now the person who pushed me into the abyss stood on the shore criticizing me for having mud on me. “It’s none of your business.” I coldly shot back and turned to leave. “Stop right there!” Adrian roared behind me. “What kind of attitude is this?” I ignored him and walked straight to the kitchen. Behind me came Lorelei’s gentle, comforting voice: “Adrian, don’t be angry. She’s gotten used to running wild outside, she probably can’t change right away…” I turned on the faucet and splashed ice water hard on my face. Reputation? These things were destroyed by their own hands three years ago.

Vivian’s POV Early the next morning I was dragged downstairs. Lorelei sat at the piano with sheet music in her hands. It was the only duet piece she and I had performed together, and also my award-winning debut composition. “Vivian, I can never quite get the rhythm right on this piece.” Lorelei looked sincere as she handed me the sheet music in front of Adrian. “Could you practice it with me? Just to help me find the feeling.” She smiled innocently, as if the shrew who tore up the sheet music and trampled it underfoot last night wasn’t her. I looked at those black and white piano keys. Before I could speak, a small figure suddenly rushed out from the side. “No!” Miranda jumped down from her chair and knocked the sheet music from my hands. She pointed at my hands wrapped in old bandages, her features scrunched up. “Her hands are dirty and smelly! They’ll get Lorelei’s piano dirty!” Adrian sat on the sofa drinking coffee without even looking up, tacitly approving his daughter’s humiliation. Lorelei covered her mouth and glanced at me: “How can Miranda say such things? Her hands may be injured, but it’s just from trying to survive.” I bent down to pick up the sheet music and slowly unwrapped the blackened bandage on my hands. When those deformed and twisted hands were fully exposed to the air, Lorelei dramatically gasped. Miranda screamed and hid in Adrian’s arms. “My hands are already ruined.” I held up those hands, my voice hoarse. “I can’t play.” Five years ago, when Marcus used an iron hammer to break them one by one, Lorelei stood watching nearby, smiling even sweeter than now. Now she was playing the frightened innocent. “Oh my god…” Tears immediately welled up in Lorelei’s eyes, her face full of guilt. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy these past two years that I forgot your hands were already…” She trailed off meaningfully, as if mentioning some unspeakable scandal. Adrian finally put down his coffee cup. He hugged the frightened Lorelei tenderly, then looked at me with instantly frozen eyes. “Deliberately showing off your scars for whose benefit?” Adrian sneered. “Vivian, selling sympathy won’t work anymore.” “You ruined your own hands back then with your depraved behavior, and now you have the nerve to bring them out to frighten Miranda and Lorelei?” I slowly lowered my hands, hiding the trembling in my sleeves. In their eyes, these hands were destroyed in brawls and fights. How perfect. You personally broke my wings, and now you blame me for not being able to fly and ruining your fun. Adrian stood up with his arm around Lorelei. “Don’t stand there being an eyesore.” Only I remained in the dining room. My return wasn’t welcome at all, but it wasn’t even my idea to come back-they were the ones who brought me here. The world of the living had no room for me. I might as well prepare a proper resting place for after death. I touched the small cloth pouch hidden close to my body. Inside was the spare change I’d saved over these two years, all wrinkled small bills. This was the money I’d saved for my sea burial.

Vivian’s POV The family would never give me any financial support. The few tens of dollars I’d hidden in an old shoebox had been pocketed by a servant. The remaining half pain pill had long since lost its effectiveness. My whole body felt like there was a saw going back and forth over my bones. I searched through all my belongings. Finally, in the pocket of my innermost clothing, I felt something hard. It was a silver pendant. The director of the orphanage had given it to me years ago. It was the only decent thing I owned. I tucked the pendant away and tried to slip out the back door to sell it. “Stop right there!” Just as I reached the door, the housekeeper blocked my way. She looked me up and down, her gaze finally settling on my chest. “What are you hiding there? So sneaky.” “Get out of my way.” I didn’t want to waste words with her. “Still so arrogant?” The housekeeper sneered and reached out to grab me. “The house has been missing things lately. I bet it’s you with your sticky fingers who’s been stealing!” Her strength was surprisingly great. She yanked open my collar and pulled out the silver pendant from inside my clothes. “Give it back!” I lunged at her frantically. “I knew it was stolen goods!” The housekeeper held the pendant high, looking triumphant. “This looks like junk. You must have stolen it from a guest room! I’m reporting this to Mr. Hayes!” I opened my mouth and bit down hard on her wrist. “You crazy woman!” The housekeeper screamed. Her hand loosened and the pendant fell to the ground. Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth as I threw myself forward and clutched the pendant tightly. “What’s going on?” The commotion attracted Marcus and Adrian. The two men stood on the covered walkway of the back garden, looking down at this scene from above. “Mr. Hayes! Mr. Sterling!” The housekeeper wailed while clutching her wrist. “Vivian was caught stealing and she bit me!” Marcus strode over and without a word, slapped me across the face. I was knocked to the ground, my ears ringing, the taste of blood growing stronger in my mouth. “Disgraceful thing.” Marcus cursed. “You’ve completely humiliated this family.” Adrian slowly walked over. He bent down and forcibly pried the silver pendant from my hand. Looking at the mottled scratches on it, he sneered with contempt. “For this piece of junk worth a few hundred bucks, you made yourself look like a rabid dog?” His eyes were ice cold, as if looking at a pile of garbage. “Are you having withdrawal symptoms, desperate for money?” I ignored the blood at the corner of my mouth and crawled forward a few steps trying to grab it. “Give it back… it’s mine.” “Yours?” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “In this house, even your life belongs to me. What right do you have to talk about private property?” With a flick of his wrist, the pendant fell into the artificial lake beside us, splashing a small spray of water. “Want it? Go fish it out yourself.” Without thinking, I jumped right in. The early winter lake water was ice cold and piercing. The suffocation from lung cancer intensified the moment I entered the water. My lungs felt like they were burning and being stabbed with ice at the same time. On the shore, Adrian and Marcus turned away in disgust. I groped through the mud at the bottom. My fingers were cut by sharp stones, blood threads spreading in the murky water. As long as I could die peacefully, being a drowned dog didn’t matter. Finally, my fingertips touched something cold and hard. I clutched it tightly and surfaced, gasping for air. Soaking wet, I snuck out of the estate. I dragged my body, which felt like it was filled with lead, avoiding crowds until I reached a shop on the street corner. “This necklace is old stuff, not worth much. I’ll give you five hundred bucks at most.” The shop owner glanced at the pendant and tossed it disdainfully on the counter. “Sir, please, add a bit more…” I was shaking all over, my teeth chattering. “Eight hundred dollars, I only need eight hundred dollars.” I was still eight hundred dollars short of being able to purchase the sea burial service. The owner waved his hand impatiently: “Take it or leave it.” I touched my withered yellow hair. “What if I sell my hair too? Can that make up five hundred dollars?” The owner glanced at my grass-like hair, damaged from chemotherapy, and rolled his eyes: “That trash quality wouldn’t even work for wigs.” In the end, I sold the pendant. Then I took off the cashmere coat I was wearing and sold it at a low price. Wearing only a thin inner garment, I stood shivering in the cold wind. In my hand I clutched eight wrinkled hundred-dollar bills. Tomorrow morning, I would go to the funeral company to sign the contract. Then find somewhere with no people and end all this.

Vivian’s POV Early the next morning, I hid the money close to my body and was just about to go out when Adrian blocked me at the door. He was about to leave, followed by a group of PR team members. Seeing me wearing only a thin inner garment, he frowned. In his eyes, I was probably having another episode trying to get attention. “Stay home obediently these next few days.” Adrian coldly issued his command. “Lorelei is doing a clarification livestream today. You need to stay home and cooperate as background scenery. Don’t go anywhere.” I instinctively protected my pocket. “I have something to do. I must go out.” The funeral company’s sea burial service discount only lasted a few more days. Adrian stopped and turned around, his eyes calculating. “Vivian, do you think I can’t control you?” He took out his phone, pulled up a document, and held it in front of me. It was a purchase proposal for the west side orphanage property. “That old director isn’t in good health. She probably couldn’t handle the stress of relocation, right?” Adrian’s voice was casual, but it precisely targeted my weak spot. “If you dare run, I’ll have the bulldozers roll into the orphanage tomorrow.” My fingers dug hard into my palms. My body shook uncontrollably. Director Hayes was my last vulnerability. He always knew how to hurt me most deeply. Even though I had nothing left, he wouldn’t let me go. “I won’t run.” I lowered my head, my voice trembling. “I’ll listen to you.” Adrian put away his phone with satisfaction and got in the car to leave. After he left, the surveillance at home became much more relaxed. To save every penny, I stopped going to the kitchen for food. When thirsty, I went to the bathroom to drink tap water to fill my stomach. I endured until afternoon. Taking advantage of the housekeeper’s nap, I climbed out through the first-floor guest room window. This was my last chance. I took a three-hour bus ride, bumping along to a funeral company in the suburbs. “Right in this sea area.” I pointed to the cheapest location on the diagram, my hands shaking. “Alright, as long as the money’s right, everything’s good.” The agent pushed the contract toward me. Trembling, I pulled out a handful of small bills from my pocket. Eight wrinkled hundred-dollar bills and a large amount of loose change. I counted three times before solemnly handing it over. Just as the pen tip was about to touch the contract paper, the door was kicked open. Adrian stood in the doorway with two police officers, his face frosty. He glanced at the contract on the table. From too far away, he couldn’t see the content clearly, only that I was signing some transaction. “Vivian, you really never learn.” Adrian’s eyes were ice cold. “For money, you actually dare to sell the family’s trade secrets?” I was stunned. Selling trade secrets at a funeral company? Before I could explain, the police had already stepped forward and produced a detention warrant. “Vivian Sterling, you’re suspected of major commercial fraud and copyright infringement. Please come with us.” Marcus walked out from behind, looking pained and disappointed. “Vivian, for money you actually sold Lorelei’s composition to competitors, and then turned around and accused Lorelei of plagiarizing you? You’ve disappointed us so much.” My head buzzed. So that was it. This was the scapegoat script the family had prepared all along to whitewash Lorelei. Arrest me, pin the charges of plagiarism and fraud on me, and Lorelei’s position as a genius would be completely secure. “I didn’t…” I tried to defend myself but couldn’t make a sound. Adrian looked at me and said quietly: “A few days inside to reflect would be good. Keep you from going crazy outside.” Under the huge shock, something sweet and metallic surged up my throat. A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed onto the burial contract I hadn’t had time to sign. The bright red blood instantly soaked through the paper, covering the sea burial location I had chosen. How ridiculous. My vision went black and I completely lost consciousness. When I woke again, I was already lying in a cold detention cell. All my personal belongings had been confiscated. That blood-stained burial contract had probably already been thrown in the trash as waste paper. The illness, freed from medication’s suppression, came in waves like a tide. I curled up in the corner, my whole body as cold as ice.

Vivian’s POV As soon as I coughed once, someone kicked me hard in the lower back. “If you’re gonna die, go die somewhere else! Don’t spread your tuberculosis to us!” I was kicked into the iron bars, my bones making a teeth-grinding crisp sound. The detention cell was cold and damp with no blankets, only a large communal bunk that reeked of mildew. Because I was classified as a serious offender, I was assigned to the high-security unit where the wind blew hardest. I curled up on the cement floor. Cold sweat soaked through my thin prison uniform, then quickly formed cold, damp patches stuck to my skin. “Help…” I desperately pounded on the iron door, my fingernails scraping harsh sounds against the door panel. “I need a doctor… I have lung cancer… give me medicine…” The on-duty prison doctor slowly walked over. He looked at me through the bars, holding a file in his hand. “Stop acting.” The doctor closed the file, his eyes full of contempt. “It says clearly in your file: long-term substance abuse, suspected drug withdrawal.” “I don’t do drugs… I have cancer…” Trembling, I reached through the bars, fingers straining for his white coat. “Please… just give me the pills” “Everyone in here claiming to be terminally ill is just fishing for drugs.” The doctor stepped back, avoiding my hand as if it were contaminated. He casually pulled two white fever pills from his pocket and tossed them through the bars. The pills rolled across the dusty cement floor. “Take them and sleep quietly. Make any more noise and we’ll put you in restraints.” The doctor turned and walked away, his leather shoes making hollow, cold sounds on the floor. I stared at those two useless fever pills on the ground. So in Adrian’s eyes, even my dying cries for help were just drug withdrawal symptoms seeking sympathy. He not only sent me to prison but also sealed off all my paths to survival. I picked up the pills and swallowed them dry. Even if they were foul, even if they were spoiled, they were all I could get to eat. The wall-mounted TV at the end of the corridor flickered on. It was the seven o’clock legal news program, the only entertainment allowed for inmates. The screen cut to a ballroom inside the manor. Dazzling lights. A towering champagne fountain. Lorelei stood in a haute couture gown under the spotlight, every inch a princess. A caption scrolled beneath: Charity Gala Headlined by Piano Prodigy Lorelei. Adrian stood beside her in a black suit, noble and aloof. “Regarding this recent controversy,” Lorelei spoke into countless microphones, her eyes reddening. “I’m truly heartbroken. I never imagined my sister Vivian would sell my score to competitors for money, then turn around and accuse me of plagiarism.” She wiped away nonexistent tears from the corners of her eyes. “But I’m still willing to forgive her. After all, she’s my sister.” Camera flashes went crazy. A reporter shoved a microphone in front of Adrian: “Mr. Hayes, we heard you personally reported your ex-wife to the police. Does this represent the Hayes Group’s position on this matter?” Adrian faced the cameras, his expression carved from ice. “Hayes Group absolutely will not tolerate any commercial fraud, regardless of who the suspect is.” He paused, his voice drilling into my frozen ears through the TV speakers. “Sending her in is for her own good. To sober up. To break habits she never should have formed.” The venue erupted in applause. The screen flooded with comments: “Mr. Hayes is a man of principle.” “Lorelei deserves everything.” I stared at that man on the screen. He probably thought that locking me up for a week, letting me suffer a little… Would make me fall back in line like before, kneeling at his feet begging for mercy. He was wrong about one thing. Dead people don’t beg for mercy. Lights out sounded. I leaned against the cold wall. Something warm trickled from my nostrils and the corners of my mouth, dripping onto the collar of my prison uniform. I could feel life slowly draining from this broken shell. I wasn’t afraid of death. I was only afraid I wouldn’t rest in the sea after I died.

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After my husband Lucas Gray was reborn, the first thing he did was bring his illegitimate son home and force me to send our daughter away to the countryside. He held that drooling bastard child in his arms, his eyes burning with fanaticism: “He’s our family’s only hope! This boy is going to win a Nobel Prize someday—he’s a genius! As for that useless daughter of yours, we need to get rid of her. Now.” I glanced at the boy. Then I refused Lucas’s demand and filed for divorce immediately. My ex-husband didn’t know that I had been reborn too. In my previous life, this illegitimate son only became a genius because I quit my job, slept only four hours a night, and spent every penny I had treating his intellectual disabilities. Meanwhile, my own daughter—ignored and neglected—ran away from home. She became a financial titan who controlled the global economy. This life, you can take care of that mentally disabled child yourself. I’m going to make it up to my daughter and become the mother of the world’s richest woman.

I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. Lucas didn’t even look at me. He scooped up his illegitimate son, Kyler Gray, the boy with drool running down his chin, and held him close. In his mind, he was already picturing Kyler accepting the Nobel Prize in Physics. This time, he would never let me steal that glory! “Tomorrow morning, 9 a.m., City Hall. We finalize the divorce!” I turned and walked toward my daughter Zoe’s room. Behind me, Lucas let out a cold laugh. “Good luck surviving without me. I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging.” I didn’t look back. The moment I closed the door, my mother-in-law Rita Quinn burst into the living room, her voice shrill and piercing. “Lucas! Have you lost your mind? You’re just letting her leave like that? What about Zoe? She’s my granddaughter!” She started toward Zoe’s room. Lucas blocked her path, his tone sharp with irritation. “Mom! Keep it down! Can’t you see Kyler’s sleeping?” Rita stopped in her tracks, but her voice didn’t lower. “Zoe’s going to suffer with her! Make her leave the child here!” I opened the door, leading Zoe out by the hand. She was already wearing her jacket. Zoe’s little face was calm—too calm for a five-year-old. She just gripped my hand tightly. I looked at Rita. “I gave birth to her. Custody goes to me. It’s clearly stated in the agreement.” Rita’s eyes bulged. She pointed a trembling finger at my face. “Vanessa! Don’t you dare get cocky! The Gray family has supported you all these years, and now you think you’re too good for us? Taking our bloodline away? Don’t even think about it!” She reached out to grab Zoe. I stepped in front of her, shielding my daughter behind me. “Rita, try that again. I dare you.” The ice in my eyes made her flinch. She took half a step back. Lucas impatiently pulled out a card from his wallet and tossed it onto the counter. “Enough! Stop fighting! Vanessa, here—fifty thousand dollars. That should be enough for you and the girl to get by for a while. Don’t come bothering me again.” Fifty thousand. Like I was some beggar. I didn’t even bother to pick up the card. I took Zoe’s hand, opened the door, and left without looking back. Behind me, Kyler’s wails suddenly pierced the air, followed by Lucas fumbling awkwardly to soothe him. “My genius boy, don’t cry…” The elevator doors slid shut, sealing off everything. Zoe looked up at me and asked softly. “Mom, where are we going?” I crouched down and straightened her collar. “We’re going to our new home.” Zoe nodded and said nothing more. She just held my hand tighter.

I took Zoe back to the apartment to pack our things. The home that had once been filled with laughter between mother and daughter now felt unbearably silent. In the living room, Lucas was clumsily trying to feed Kyler formula. Powder spilled everywhere. When he saw me, his brow furrowed into a knot. “Why are you back? Hurry up, grab your stuff, and get out. Don’t disturb me while I’m with Kyler.” I ignored him and walked straight into the bedroom. I pulled out two large suitcases. Rita followed me in, hovering behind me like a prison guard. “Vanessa, let me tell you something—this house belongs to my son. You’re not taking a single thing that doesn’t belong to you.” Her eyes scanned every item I packed. I folded Zoe’s and my clothes one by one and placed them neatly into the suitcases. “These are all part of my dowry from before the marriage. And this jewelry set—my mother left it to me.” I pointed to a box on the dresser. Rita immediately lunged forward and slammed her hand down on it. “Your mother left it to you? Once you married into the Gray family, it became Gray family property! You want to take it? Over my dead body!” Her fingers locked around the box like a vice. I stopped what I was doing, stood up, and stared at her in silence. She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze but refused to let go. “What are you looking at? Am I wrong? You’re about to walk out that door, and you think you can take something this valuable?” I didn’t argue. I just pulled out my phone and turned on the voice recorder. “Say that again. Whose property is this?” Rita froze for a second, then threw a fit. “It’s the Gray family’s! What are you going to do about it?” I put my phone away, stopped looking at her, and continued packing. A picture frame fell to the floor. The glass shattered. Inside was a photo of Zoe and me at the beach. Zoe walked over and carefully tried to pick it up. “Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself.” I pulled her back. From the living room, Lucas shouted impatiently. “Vanessa! Can you hurry up? You’re taking forever! If you break anything, can you even afford to replace it?” I pulled the photo out of the broken frame—careful to avoid the shards—and slipped it into my pocket. Then I swept the empty frame and broken glass into the trash. Rita, seeing I wasn’t paying her any attention, started yelling again. “Did you hear that? My son told you to get out! Stop being an eyesore!” I zipped up the suitcases with a heavy finality. I pulled one suitcase with each hand and held Zoe’s hand with the other as I headed for the door. As I passed through the living room, I saw Kyler throw his bottle on the floor. He was reaching for Lucas’s car keys on the coffee table, about to shove them into his mouth. Lucas was completely oblivious, head down, absorbed in some guidebook on early genius cultivation. I walked past without a glance. The door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t care if that child choked on the keys. I didn’t care if Lucas could actually raise a genius. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment in the old part of the city. Compared to the Gray family’s spacious riverside penthouse, this place was a shoebox. But Zoe remained calm. She set down her little backpack and studied our new “home” carefully. “Mom, where’s my bed?” I pointed to the small bed by the window, covered with cartoon sheets I’d just bought. “That’s yours from now on.” She nodded, climbed onto it, lay down to test it, and then smiled at me. “It’s soft.” My heart softened too. By the time we settled in, it was late at night. After I read Zoe a bedtime story, she fell asleep quickly. I sat on the creaky sofa in the living room. My phone buzzed. It was a message from my friend Claire Winters. [How are you? Did you find a place? Do you have enough money?] I replied that everything was fine and left it at that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk—I just didn’t know where to begin. I opened my mobile banking app and stared at the pitiful balance. Then I thought about the card Lucas had thrown on the counter. A wave of helplessness washed over me. I needed to find work. Fast. Just then, my phone rang. It was Lucas. I answered but didn’t speak. His voice came through, barely suppressing his anger. “Vanessa, did you take the washing machine manual with you?” I paused. “No.” “Then how the hell do I use this new front-loading washer? My mom can’t figure it out, and now there’s water everywhere!” “There’s a QR code on the door. Scan it for the digital manual.” “I don’t have time for that! Come back here right now and show my mom how to use it!” He barked the order as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I said nothing. In my previous life, this was how it always went. No matter where I was, he always found a way to drag me back to deal with whatever mess he and his mother couldn’t handle. And every single time, I softened and went back. “Lucas, we’re divorced.” I hung up. The phone immediately started ringing again. I hung up over and over until I finally just turned it off. I walked into the bedroom and looked at Zoe’s peaceful sleeping face. The last traces of helplessness in my heart vanished. This life, I would live only for her.

The next morning, I turned on my phone. Dozens of abusive text messages flooded in—all from Lucas. [Vanessa, you selfish bitch! You think you can just wash your hands of everything and walk away?] [You even sabotaged the washing machine on your way out. How can you be so vicious?] [Let me tell you something—Kyler and I are going to be just fine without you!] I blocked his number without expression and deleted every message. Life was harder than I expected. Every résumé I sent out disappeared into the void. After five years as a stay-at-home mom, my work history was worthless in today’s job market. The money in my account drained rapidly between rent and daily expenses. Zoe was incredibly understanding. She never asked for new toys or pretty clothes. When I bought her milk, she would whisper: “Mom, water is fine too.” Every time she said that, my heart ached. No. This couldn’t continue. Then I suddenly remembered something. In my previous life, right around this time, an obscure tech company made a breakthrough with a patented technology. Its stock skyrocketed fifty times over in just one month. I still remembered the ticker symbol. The only problem? I didn’t have any capital. I opened the jewelry box I’d brought from the Gray house. Inside were my mother’s belongings—a pair of jade bracelets, a pearl necklace, and several pieces of gold jewelry. In my previous life, Rita had taken these under the guise of “keeping them safe for me.” I never saw them again. I took a deep breath and closed the box. Mom, I’m sorry. I found the most reputable pawn shop and pawned everything except the jade bracelets. With gold prices high, I didn’t lose much. I walked out with about seventy thousand dollars. Combined with my savings, I had just under a hundred thousand. I left the pawn shop clutching the thin pawn ticket, my palms slick with sweat. I invested every penny into that stock. The moment the transaction went through, I felt dizzy—like I’d just bet everything on a single hand. My phone rang. Unknown number. I answered. Rita’s shrill, hysterical voice exploded through the speaker. “Vanessa! Get back here! Kyler has a high fever! He’s having seizures! Lucas won’t do anything!” “Take him to the hospital.” My tone was cold. “What hospital? You used to handle this yourself! Come back and give him a cold compress! He’s the Gray family’s hope—he can’t have anything happen to him!” She was babbling incoherently. I could almost see my past self. It had been a night just like this. Kyler had a febrile seizure. I’d rushed him to the hospital while Lucas complained over the phone that I was overreacting and ruining his night out with friends. The doctor said if I’d arrived ten minutes later, the boy’s brain would have been permanently damaged. And now, they wanted me—the ex-wife—to come fix their problem again. “Rita,” I said, my voice calm and flat. “He’s your grandson. Not mine. I have nothing to do with your family anymore. Stop harassing me.” “You witch! You’ll get what’s coming to you!” she screamed. I hung up. I stood on the bustling street corner, the evening wind lifting my hair. I looked at the stock ticker I’d just bought on my phone. It was climbing. The red line kept rising…

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Alex’s mother Rose had only a simple cold, but was killed by a nurse named Lily who administered the wrong IV. I went to the hospital demanding answers, but was thrown out every single time. Just as I was about to file a complaint with the state medical board and request a malpractice investigation, Alex—the hospital’s chief physician—threw a box of ashes at me: “I’m the hospital’s most authoritative expert. What does it matter that your mother only had a cold? If I say she had a terminal illness, then she had a terminal illness.” “Besides, your mother’s body has already been cremated. If you keep making a fuss, everyone will think your mother had a terminal disease and deliberately came to the hospital to cause trouble just to extort money.” “Take these ashes and get lost. Stop harassing Lily.” That’s when I realized—Alex thought all along that it was my mother who had died. I pushed the urn back toward him: “I’m not qualified to take these ashes.” Alex thought I was refusing. His voice suddenly rose sharply: “The person’s already been cremated—what more do you want?” “Mata, get this straight. Your mother was just an unemployed vagrant. Is her life worth tarnishing our hospital’s reputation with a medical malpractice case? The hospital’s already agreed to handle this privately—that’s already your lucky break, so don’t push your luck!” I shook my head: “You’ve got it wrong. What I mean is, these ashes should be yours to keep.” Alex’s brow furrowed deeply, his face full of disgust: “Are you out of your mind?” “These are your mother’s ashes. What do they have to do with me?” “You think I’m like you, needing to live the rest of my life holding onto a box of ash?” Alex came from a single-parent home. His father died young, and Rose raised him through tremendous hardship. To help him achieve his dream of becoming a doctor, Rose worked multiple jobs a day, wearing her body down with all kinds of health problems. Alex saw it all and had always cared deeply for Rose. At first, I didn’t understand why when Rose had her accident, Alex didn’t even come home. He devoted all his energy to protecting Lily, the person directly responsible. I never imagined it was because he thought the person who died was my mother. I looked at Alex with complete seriousness: “Alex, I suggest you keep these ashes safe. Otherwise, you’re going to regret it.” Alex didn’t take me seriously: “It’s just a box of ashes. What’s there to regret?” “Now that your mother’s already been cremated, all the evidence is gone. What are you going to use for an investigation? Just take your stuff and stop making trouble!” Rose wasn’t my biological mother. But a perfectly healthy person was killed by a simple cold treatment, then branded as having a terminal illness and trying to extort money—and her own son even signed off on having her body hastily cremated. Thinking about what she went through, my heart ached for her. “Alex, since you know the hospital wants to cover up the accident, how could you bear to sign off on immediate cremation? Don’t you think that’s cruel?” Alex’s lips curled: “It was your mother, not mine. Why would I feel bad about it?” “Besides, she’s already dead. Cremating her quickly prevents complications and helps the hospital settle things down.” “It’s her own fault for having such a weak body. Dying from a simple cold, and getting Lily suspended for investigation!” Looking at Alex’s self-righteous attitude, I found it hard to imagine what his reaction would be if he knew the dead person was his own mother. Seeing my silence, Alex continued: “Honestly, I always thought your mother’s constitution meant she wouldn’t live long anyway. Even if nothing happened this time, she definitely wouldn’t have lasted much longer.” “The hospital’s willing to give some compensation—you should be grateful!” “Just take the ashes, and tomorrow buy some things to bring to the department and apologize to Lily. Then we can put this behind us.” With that, Alex left the urn and turned to leave. Watching Alex’s resolute departing figure. I suddenly realized that the renowned doctor who once vowed to save lives had completely rotted from within. This marriage needed to end.

The next day, I drafted divorce papers and went to the hospital where he worked. As soon as I entered the office, I saw Alex—who had severe germophobia—kneeling on one knee, gently applying medicine to Lily’s injured ankle. In his eyes was a tenderness I’d never seen before. The moment Lily saw me, she immediately feigned alarm: “Mata, don’t misunderstand! My ankle’s sprained, and Alex was kind enough to help me apply medicine.” She pulled her foot back and tugged at Alex, her voice anxious: “Quick, explain! I don’t want to be reported again…” Alex patted her back affectionately, softly comforting her: “Don’t worry. She’s here to apologize to you.” Then he looked at me with disgust, his tone cold: “Didn’t I tell you to bring something? Why are you empty-handed?” “At your age, you don’t even know how to apologize properly?” Too lazy to argue, I coldly pulled the divorce agreement from my bag and placed it in front of Alex: “Sign it. We’re getting divorced.” Alex stared at the divorce papers, stunned for a moment. Then his brow furrowed in anger: “What are you making a fuss about now?” “You know my mother… she approves of you. She’ll never agree to our divorce.” “You’re pulling this stunt just to make her criticize me, aren’t you?” So he still had his mother in his heart after all. I produced a bitter smile and said coldly: “Your mother can never criticize you again.” Alex’s expression changed slightly. He asked: “What do you mean?” I remained serious: “Go home and see for yourself.” Alex glared at me impatiently: “Stop being so cryptic with me.” “Your mother’s dead—isn’t that it? Why are you still going on about this?” “Just leave. Don’t embarrass yourself at the hospital. I’m not divorcing you!” Seeing this, Lily—who had been watching the drama unfold—suddenly wiped away non-existent tears and sobbed on cue: “Mata, even though my medical license was forged and my experience insufficient, that day was truly just a momentary lapse!” “Are you bringing up divorce now to threaten Dr. Alex into sending me to prison?!” Lily spoke so pitifully, as if she were the true victim who had suffered all the injustice. Her tear-filled eyes broke Alex’s heart. He pulled Lily into his embrace: “Lily, don’t cry. As long as I’m here, nothing will ever happen to you.” Then he glared at me furiously: “Mata, Lily is so young—is it really necessary to target her like this?” “You think threatening me with divorce will make me stop protecting Lily? Dream on!” “Let me tell you—your mother could only have died from illness. You’ll never get any malpractice compensation, and you’ll never harm Lily in the slightest!” Watching Alex turn hostile against me to protect the person directly responsible for killing his mother. My heart couldn’t help but ache again for Rose. Forget it. Since her own son had taken this stance, what more could I—an outsider—say? I took a deep breath and enunciated clearly: “I’m definitely getting this divorce.” Alex was so angry he tore up the divorce agreement on the spot, threw the pieces into the air, and said through gritted teeth: “You want a divorce that badly?” “Fine! I’ll grant your wish!” “But let me tell you—even if we divorce, I’ll be the one drafting the agreement. I’ll make sure you’re ruined and leave with nothing!” “I’ll make everyone see clearly that you’re nothing but a malicious woman using her own mother’s death to extort the hospital and smear its reputation!” Through the shower of paper scraps, I saw the cruel determination in Alex’s eyes. And the barely perceptible triumphant smile at the corner of Lily’s mouth. In the end, I said nothing. I turned and left the doctor’s office.

After returning home, I quietly began packing my belongings. Just as I was pulling my suitcase down to the apartment complex lobby. A large crowd suddenly swarmed toward me. They were all holding cameras or phones, frantically filming me: “Look, that’s her! She coached her elderly mother to fake illness at the hospital to extort money!” “After her mother died, she used the death to greedily extort the hospital. When that didn’t work, she filed complaints everywhere to smear them! She drove a young doctor who just started working to depression—the poor girl almost committed suicide several times!” “Fortunately, her husband is the chief physician. He stood by principle over family, maintaining the hospital’s reputation and speaking up for the innocent, poor doctor. Otherwise, who knows what that young woman would have suffered!” “Now she blames her husband for not conspiring with her, so she’s threatening him with divorce. She’s even packed her bags and is ready to leave!” Sharp accusations echoed endlessly. Through the crowd, I could see Lily and Alex’s gleeful faces in the background. So this live broadcast was Alex’s method of ruining my reputation? The response was indeed enormous. The on-site broadcasters hurled accusations, and various live streaming channels were filled with endless abuse: “This woman is absolutely terrible! For money, she didn’t even care about her own mother’s life?” “With children like this, what parent could live long?” “Like mother, like daughter. Her mother’s death was probably from taking random medicine and ruining her own health!” “Right! Why is it that everyone else’s cold was fine, but only her mother died? It proves her mother must have had serious problems to begin with!” Public opinion fermented quickly. In moments, my photo hit trending searches across the internet. Labels like “medical troublemaker,” “menace,” and “extortionist” all became synonymous with my identity. As these online broadcasters added fuel to the fire. The onlookers who had gathered at the scene couldn’t help but start throwing eggs and rotten vegetables at me. I stepped through the garbage on the ground, walked through the crowd, and stopped in front of Alex: “Alex, do you really need to go this far?” Alex frowned slightly. Before he could speak, Lily tearfully interjected: “Mata, even though your mother passed away, I’ve been suffering too during this time!” “I’m begging you to let me go—please stop targeting me!” Alex’s eyes flashed with sympathy, then he looked at me with determination: “Mata, you brought all of this on yourself.” “Your mother’s death was entirely due to her own underlying condition. You shouldn’t have kept filing complaints and making things difficult for Lily.” “Lily’s career has been delayed because of this. She hasn’t sued you for emotional distress—that’s already her being kind. Yet you keep going on and on. Your mother had such a vicious daughter—no wonder she died young!” As soon as he finished speaking. My mother suddenly emerged from the crowd and looked at Alex: “Who did you say is dead?”

Seeing my mother suddenly appear before him. Alex jumped in fright. His face turned deathly pale as he looked my mother over for a long moment. Then he stammered in disbelief: “How… how are you…” My mother’s eyes flashed with confusion: “Alex, dear, I’m perfectly fine. How could I…” Mid-sentence, my mother seemed to realize something. She looked at Alex with sympathy and concern: “These past few days must have been really hard on you.” During this time, my mother only knew that I had been running around daily dealing with Rose’s medical accident. But she didn’t know what Alex had been busy with. She assumed he was immersed in grief and hadn’t yet accepted reality. After all, my mother knew Alex had always cared deeply for his mother. When the mother you’d depended on since childhood dies, who could accept it calmly? Hearing my mother’s words, Alex nodded, glancing at me meaningfully: “It has been quite difficult.” Then he looked directly at me, his face full of displeasure: “Mata, is there something wrong with your brain?” “If it wasn’t your mother who died, what’s the point of filing complaints and reports every day, and refusing to let Lily go?” “Do you just hate seeing her doing well?” Faced with Alex’s questioning, I couldn’t help but be curious: “Is that really how you see me?” Alex snorted coldly and said decisively: “What else?” “The facts are right in front of us. It wasn’t your mother who died, yet you’ve filed complaints multiple times and kept pestering—if that’s not targeting Lily, what is?” “Unless you’re doing it for justice?” Lily immediately leaned weakly toward Alex, sobbing softly: “Mata never liked me. She’s deliberately using this incident to target me because she blames me for being too close to you.” “Maybe I should just resign. I’m afraid there’ll be even greater malice waiting for me in the future…” Alex looked at her with heartache: “You didn’t do anything wrong—why should you resign?” “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely get justice for you in this matter!” Then Alex faced the surrounding people and cameras, declaring firmly: “In today’s society, many doctors no longer dare to wholeheartedly treat patients.” “If a condition is complex, we don’t dare treat it.” “If the risk is high, we don’t dare operate.” “Why?” “Isn’t it because we’re forced into this by those extortionist patient families, and people like Mata who help tyrants do evil?” “These scum are best at exploiting people’s sympathy and our professional ethics to gain benefits for themselves!” “How many doctors with benevolent hearts and skillful hands have been ruined by them, their careers destroyed?” “Although Mata is my wife, I’ve always stood by principle over family.” “Today, I’m putting it out there—I, Alex, will use all my knowledge and connections to investigate this matter to the end!” “I will make sure that social parasite who had illness but extorted the hospital, her family and descendants, and morally twisted people like Mata all pay a heavy price!” Alex truly lived up to his reputation as a renowned chief physician in the medical field—his eloquence was indeed impressive. With just a few words, he shaped himself into a hero fighting for medical dignity. The crowd on site and netizens in the live streams instantly became fired up after hearing this. They unanimously applauded: “Way to go, Alex!” “That’s exactly how it should be—make an example of them, let everyone who makes unreasonable trouble be punished!” “Right! Who told them to earn such unconscionable money every day? How many innocent doctors have they harmed?” “The old person who died may be gone, but she definitely still has family and descendants. We need to make those people spit out every penny of extortion money they swallowed!” “They should be ruined and notorious, to serve as a warning to all such scum!” Hearing the chorus of support on site, Alex’s face displayed unprecedented satisfaction. Before this incident, he had handled numerous medical disputes, large and small. But never before had any caused such a huge response. In this moment, he forgot that the old woman’s charge of “terminal illness extortion” was his own slanderous fabrication. He forgot that his original intention in becoming a doctor was to cure illness and save lives. He only wanted to seize this opportunity to be Lily’s protector, to be the justice expert everyone praised. To make an innocently killed old woman notorious. To ruin me completely.

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I was away on a business trip for a month. When I returned, I discovered the smart lock on my house had been changed. I asked my husband David for the password. His response? Call his physical therapist. Only when she arrived could I enter. I couldn’t accept this humiliation. At the family gathering, I pulled out divorce papers. Everyone thought I was just drunk and joking around. David sat in his wheelchair, staring at me in disbelief: “Just because of a password lock, you want to divorce me?” I looked at him coldly and sneered: “Yes. Just because of a password lock. Isn’t that enough?” “Shut up!” “Katherine, if it weren’t for that car accident leaving me unable to move properly and needing rehabilitation, I wouldn’t have become so dependent on others!” “You’re so busy with work, you can’t even take care of me. The therapist knowing the password makes it easier for her to look after me. What’s wrong with that?” “This ridiculous reason for divorce—I won’t accept it!” David pointed at my nose, his eyes reddening. I didn’t even bother looking at him. I closed my briefcase and said coldly: “Sign it. Don’t make me force you.” With that, I picked up my things and left. The entire family stared at David trembling in his wheelchair and at me walking away with determination. They whispered among themselves. The Katherine who used to put David first in everything—why would she insist on divorce over such a trivial matter? David froze for a moment, then tried to wheel himself forward to grab me. Mr. Anderson struggled to stand up. Just as I left my seat, David’s physical therapist Sophia grabbed me and shoved me back down. “Katherine, your husband needs long-term rehabilitation and companionship after his car accident. He’s extremely dependent on others’ care.” “He did this just to get timely help! How can you be so harsh as his wife?” “It’s because you keep picking fights that David’s emotions have become increasingly unstable!” The relatives all sided with Sophia. “Sophia’s right!” “I think she’s just upset and taking it out on her husband!” “Everything she has comes from this family, and she’s this ungrateful? Only our David would spoil her like this, otherwise where would she be today!” David silenced his relatives with a glance, then looked at me with a vulnerable expression, softening his voice to coax me: “Honey, I’m sorry.” “I know my limited mobility has made you feel wronged. You never used to raise your voice at me. For the sake of our ten years of loving marriage, please calm down.” “Is it your father’s medical bills again? Don’t be embarrassed to ask. Your dad is my family too.” Everyone watched David in his wheelchair humble himself to coax me, nodding repeatedly, but their gazes toward me grew sharper. “Katherine, David has limited mobility. For him to treat you this way, you should be grateful.” “Your father’s situation—when hasn’t our family taken it to heart? However much is needed, just say it. There’s always a solution.” Mr. Anderson tapped his cane and spoke deliberately. I knew he thought I was too proud to ask the Anderson family for help again, so I’d resorted to this desperate measure. I looked calmly at David as he prepared to take my hand, deftly dodged it, and said flatly: “There are no feelings left. Let’s divorce.” The entire room fell deathly silent. David tried to get closer to me, shouting through tears: “Katherine, don’t lie to me…” I stepped back two paces, avoiding his touch. “The truth!” “Let’s end this here. Leave each other some dignity.” David froze in place, stunned. I ignored everyone and got up to leave. “Crash.” A glass smashed hard in front of me. Sophia had thrown it. She rushed forward, slapped the divorce agreement back at me, and pointed at me furiously: “Katherine, do you have any heart at all?” “David gave up an excellent opportunity to develop his career overseas to marry you! He loves you so much! This is how you repay him?” “Now that he needs care, you’re abandoning him!” “You’re absolutely ungrateful!” I looked calmly at the agitated Sophia, finding it laughable. “Sophia, my divorce with my husband has nothing to do with you, does it?” Sophia grabbed my collar, spittle flying as she shrieked: “You still know he’s your husband!” “Do you have any conscience? For your seriously ill father, how much money has the Anderson family spent! Don’t you know in your heart?” “If David hadn’t been softhearted and liked you, with someone like you, your father would have been finished long ago!” I kicked Sophia. She stumbled backward. “Get lost. A family gathering isn’t the place for a physical therapist to boss people around.” David suddenly wheeled himself between me and Sophia. “Katherine, why are you taking your anger out on her! She’s innocent!” “I’m hitting someone who can’t keep her mouth shut!” I glanced at the two people on the floor in their intimate position, my tone becoming even more resolute. The relatives’ cursing immediately grew louder. The abuse contained a wholesale denial of my ten years of dedication. They said I was ungrateful, that David had tolerated so much by marrying me. Sophia patted David’s hand: “It’s okay, David. I was wrong.” “I’m an outsider. I shouldn’t interfere so much with Katherine. Don’t get upset, be careful of your health.” Her tone was aggrieved as she shook her head and sighed. “How could this be your fault.” The heartache in David’s eyes was practically overflowing. He looked up with a tearful voice: “Honey, do we really have to make everyone uncomfortable?” “You know I love you. All the relatives are here today. Can you give me some face? Let’s go home and talk it through properly?” His tears fell one by one onto Sophia’s chest. I just found it ridiculous. He cried even harder. The relatives all comforted David. With him as a contrast, I became everyone’s target. “Katherine, you’ve taken care of David very well all these years.” “I’ve seen your capability and sense of responsibility with my own eyes.” “Tell us honestly, what really happened? If it’s the Anderson family’s fault, we absolutely won’t shirk responsibility.” Mr. Anderson limped over with his cane, trying to persuade me kindly. But I still kept a straight face, unwilling to accept this favor, saying coldly: “This marriage must end.” Mr. Anderson coughed violently in anger, his face flushing red. David anxiously wheeled closer, grabbing my hand and pleading, “Honey, don’t leave.” Seeing I remained unmoved, he shouted: “You must be having an affair!” I looked at him calmly, saying nothing. The cane slammed down hard as Mr. Anderson sternly rebuked: “Katherine!” “Everything you have, from head to toe—which part didn’t come from Anderson family resources? Moreover, you still have a father to care for!” “Live peacefully, or leave the divorce with nothing—you choose!” “I advise you to think carefully. You have two days.” It sounded like a threat. The onlookers’ faces were filled with anticipation of my apology. I shook off David’s hand forcefully. And strode out the door. As soon as I got in the car, someone handed me a document.

“This analysis report should be sufficient.” My friend Marcus handed over a tablet, pointing at the data on it. “Thanks for your hard work.” “Don’t forget, tomorrow we’re giving Mr. Anderson that big gift.” With that, I let out a long breath and clicked on the surveillance video Marcus had just sent. Every day before I came home from work, the surveillance showed Sophia walking out of my front door. The time she entered typically lasted at least two hours. Two days was too long. I just wanted to end this as quickly as possible. When paying the bill at the restaurant, the server informed me my card had insufficient funds. For all these years, the Anderson family had strictly controlled all my spending. Ostensibly it was for responsible family finances, but actually it just ensured that I, the “outsider,” could never control any real financial power. David transferred money to my card monthly. When he was in a good mood, he’d give more. When he wasn’t, not a cent. Since he changed the door lock without telling me the password, this card hadn’t received any deposits in a long time. The next day, at dawn, I prepared to go home to get my things. Before I even entered the community, a group of neighbors were pointing and whispering about me. “Isn’t that the Anderson wife?” “I heard she found someone else and wants to abandon her disabled husband!” “David’s such a good man. He’s been so strong after the accident. Poor thing!” The gossip kept coming, their contemptuous gazes following me. I was about to turn around. “Honey~” A car stopped beside me. The window rolled down—David sat in the passenger seat. “I knew you’d come back. I bought you a gift. Come home and see.” I got in the back seat expressionlessly. I immediately spotted that expensive custom shirt and casually tossed it out the window. David’s mouth just moved. He didn’t dare say a word. “My God, that’s a designer brand! Just thrown away like that?” The driver looked at me in shock. “Drive. To the garage,” I commanded briefly. He suppressed his emotions and drove home in silence. The driver got out first, skillfully retrieved the wheelchair from the trunk, and helped David sit in it. The door opened. Sophia was standing in the living room. David looked shocked, forced himself to stay calm, but stuttered slightly: “Sophia… we had an appointment… early this morning… for a rehabilitation assessment.” I didn’t want to deal with them and headed straight for the bedroom. I was only here to retrieve the valuable family heirloom my father had left behind. Now, David didn’t deserve to have it. Before I could step into the bedroom, Sophia moved to block me, her face full of false relief. “Katherine, it’s good that you know to come back.” “Mr. David needs your support. His recovery depends on family care.” She pulled me toward her as she spoke. I shook her off. She forcibly tried to pull me again. Unable to bear it anymore, I flung her hand away, disgusted: “Move.” I quickly walked into the room and opened the hidden compartment in the nightstand to retrieve the velvet box containing the heirloom. Sophia wouldn’t give up and followed me in, trying to grab the box but missing. “My father’s belongings—you think you’re worthy of touching them?” I pushed her away forcefully. Sophia staggered back several steps. Instantly, a cry of alarm erupted as she fell. Sophia collapsed on the floor, clutching her elbow. Seeing this, David anxiously wheeled himself forward and yelled at me without asking questions: “Katherine! What did you do to her!” Sophia immediately got up by herself and went to support him. “David, don’t get upset! It’s all my fault. I just wanted her to care more about your recovery, but Katherine doesn’t care at all. She even… pushed me away.” David suddenly reached out, snatched the box from my hand, and smashed it hard on the floor, his eyes red: “Just for this pile of junk! You’d hurt someone who came to help me?” My head buzzed. I just wanted to check if the items were intact. Fortunately, there was cushioning inside the box. The contents were safe. Sophia shrilly accused me from behind: “You’re absolutely cold-blooded! I fell down and you don’t care, but you go check on some old object! Is this thing more important than your husband’s recovery?” David sat in his wheelchair, staring at me with red-rimmed eyes: “Katherine, you’d better pray nothing happened to Sophia!” “Take your stuff and get out of my house!” “Never come back!” “After tomorrow, I won’t just leave you with nothing in the divorce—I’ll make you pay the price!” “Get out!” He shouted out of control, grabbing things nearby and throwing them wildly. I just calmly protected the box and left this suffocating place.

I hadn’t even left the community when Marcus called and told me to check the news. Overwhelming accusations came crashing down. Cursing me as a heartless woman greedy for money. Cursing me as an opportunist exploiting my husband’s family resources. Cursing me as a cold-blooded person willing to hurt my disabled spouse for profit. Various fabricated accusations were pinned on me. Composite images were interspersed in the reports, looking quite convincing. “Handle all the false information involving my father. For the rest, prepare legal documents.” I hung up the phone, letting public opinion ferment. After lunch, I announced this afternoon’s livestream. David called me over a hundred times. I didn’t answer any of them. Finally, he came to Marcus’s apartment building, holding a sign and shouting through a megaphone: “Katherine, everyone is criticizing you now!” “Your livestream won’t help! As long as you’re willing to apologize and turn back, I’m willing to forgive you.” I stood upstairs behind the glass, looking down at him coldly. Sophia grabbed the megaphone with a tone of reconciliation: “David says he’s willing to let it go. Why make things harder for yourself? The livestream will only get you cursed at worse!” “Just admit your mistake honestly. Your father can still get good care!” Old Mr. Anderson came too, sitting under an awning, saying gravely: “Katherine, young people shouldn’t act so impulsively.” “Where in the world does a wife divorce her husband just because he changed the lock?” The constant voices sounded more like final threats to me. Watching the time reach the scheduled moment. The livestream started. As expected, the live comments were full of attacks. David wasn’t about to back down. He started his own livestream using the company’s verified account and requested to connect. The screen instantly split into two frames. “Katherine, since you’re so stubborn, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” On David’s side of the screen, forged records of my consumption at high-end clubs and compromising chat records scrolled by. [Sure enough, it’s all about money!] [David is so pitiful. I support the divorce!] [I’m a lawyer. This kind of woman definitely won’t get a cent!] “How about it? Today let everyone judge for themselves!” David leaned back smugly in his chair, tapping the table impatiently with his fingers. I smiled coldly, turned down the air conditioning a bit, and said calmly: “Do I need to remind everyone how many times this has happened?” Hearing this, David froze, his movements stiffening. Then he withdrew his hand from tapping the table: “Stop being mysterious. What do you know about the law?” “Whether I’m being mysterious or not, you know in your heart, don’t you, David?” Marcus couldn’t help but laugh beside me. This big gift was about to be revealed. Clearly, everyone was expecting me to drop a bombshell. The screen switched. My side began playing a surveillance video: The timestamp showed late at night. David, wearing a bathrobe, walked freely out of the bedroom door. He walked to the living room with steady steps, even easily bending down to pick up a cushion from the floor. Then he faced his phone camera, showing a smug smile, and deliberately walked a few steps to demonstrate his unimpeded stride. The live comment section exploded instantly: [This can be livestreamed?] [So he’s perfectly fine?] [What’s wrong with that? Can’t he recover well?] The comments started turning toward David again. David collapsed completely in his chair, his lips trembling, not daring to look at old Mr. Anderson. Sophia jumped up to defend him: “Katherine! What’s your intention in showing this video?” “You clearly know David’s rehabilitation training has been remarkably successful! He’s recovered well—is that also a crime?” “How can there be such a narrow-minded woman as you!” Another wave of attacks in the live comments. [She’s right! The wife doesn’t want her husband to recover!] [If he recovered well, isn’t that a good thing?] [So malicious! Publishing someone’s private videos!] Sophia was extremely pleased, comforting David with one hand while distributing lottery prizes in the livestream to attract more viewers. “David was driven to this by a cold wife like you. If you hadn’t neglected him, how would he have become like this!” “You deliberately secretly recorded this kind of video—is your psychology twisted?” “Or do you want to ruin David’s reputation so you can win the lawsuit and divide the assets?” I found it absurdly ridiculous. All the blame was pinned on me, completely absolving David. As if I were the perpetrator. David slumped in his chair, crying so hard he almost passed out. Old Mr. Anderson was so angry his hands shook, pointing at the screen and cursing: “I thought you really had some grievance! Didn’t expect your mind to be so vicious!” “I’ll make sure you leave with nothing. Compensation for damage to my son’s reputation—not a cent less!” One of David’s friends couldn’t sit still either. He rushed to the camera and glared at me viciously: “Katherine, when your father was sick, David’s family paid for everything. If you have any conscience at all, delete the video immediately!” “By spreading this video, how can David face people in the future?” “You’ve ruined him!” The number of viewers in the livestream doubled. Some even threatened to come find me. The comments were filled with all kinds of insults. The trending topics were almost entirely accusations of me being ungrateful and defaming my husband.

“Can you people use your brains?” Marcus looked at the live comments and shook his head helplessly, operating quickly on his computer. I spoke calmly, “Please watch the second video.” Gifts should be unwrapped one at a time for maximum surprise. The screen switched. A figure wearing a dark silk robe swaggered from the master bedroom direction into the living room. She walked straight to the wine cabinet, poured a glass, and elegantly drank it down. Her movements were completely natural and familiar, as if she were in her own home. The woman put down her glass. David walked over from one side of the frame and intimately pulled her into his arms. The live comments paused for a second, then exploded exponentially: [What’s going on?] [Who is this person??] Question marks on the screen nearly buried David’s face. Sophia gasped, her face ashen, her body instantly rigid. After a moment of silence, David immediately lunged at the camera, “Honey, don’t misunderstand!” “This is… this is just a little spice between us as a married couple. The person in the video is you!” “Were you threatened into divorcing me?” “Don’t be afraid. It won’t happen again. Let’s make up.” He begged humbly, hoping I would change my mind. [Are we part of this couple’s kinky game?] [Is this person really Katherine? Doesn’t quite look like her?] I watched the speculation in the comments and sneered. David looked nervous, afraid I would blurt out a denial, and quickly interjected: “Honey, let’s not discuss our private interests in public, okay?” “Stop this. Go offline and let’s talk properly at home.” Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. His meticulously styled hair was starting to get messy. He was desperately trying to hide his panic. I said nothing and signaled Marcus to play the next piece of evidence. The woman in the silk robe put a leather collar around David’s neck, her fingers sliding suggestively across his back. David’s face was full of excitement, without a trace of shame, as if this was exactly what he wanted. “What should you call me when you wear it?” He cooed: “Master~” The comment section jumped even more violently. [Playing this wild?] [The person’s body shape in the video doesn’t look like Katherine?] [Seems more petite, not as tall as Katherine. Did he really cheat?] One video played after another. The two played without restraint. Netizens exclaimed in shock. The comment sentiment shifted, and many people began to sympathize with my situation. “This…” One of David’s friends was completely dumbfounded. She had never imagined that the always respectable David would do such things. Old Mr. Anderson angrily banged his cane, glaring furiously at David: “You’ve brought shame to the entire family! Who gave you permission to do such things?” Faced with the relentless questioning, David deflated like a punctured balloon, completely collapsing on the ground. His eyes stared vacantly at me through the camera. David couldn’t produce a single word for a long time. Seeing the netizens all speaking up for me. Sophia quickly opened her phone, searching for something. “This is Katherine herself!” She waved her phone. The screen showed me washing that silk robe. Obviously, David had taken the photo. That day when I came home, I saw this robe by the laundry basket. I asked David about it. He said it was a performance costume a friend had left behind. Wine had accidentally been spilled on it. It needed washing. He’d forgotten. I said it was no problem, I’d wash it. Now it seemed this was a trap the two of them deliberately set. They wanted me to play the oblivious spouse.

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Five years ago, my husband Aaron’s first love got pregnant with his child. I asked for a divorce. He begged me through tears: “I’ll send her to Europe. They’ll never come back, and I’ll compensate you with half of everything I own. Please don’t divorce me.” My heart softened, and I agreed. Five years later, I went on a business trip to a neighboring city and found a little boy. I took him to the police station. When the officer called the boy’s family, a familiar voice came through the phone. “Baby, don’t be scared. I’m coming to get you right now.” Less than half an hour later, Aaron—who was supposedly abroad on business—burst into the police station. The moment he saw me, he froze. I smiled and stood up. “Aaron, I had no idea you had another son behind my back. Looks like the other half of your assets won’t be safe either.” “Claire, let me explain…” Aaron shielded the child behind him. That instinctive gesture felt like needles stabbing into my eyes. “This isn’t the place to talk.” I cut him off and picked up my bag. “Have that woman come pick up the child. We need to talk.” “Ruby’s not well…” “Aaron.” I stared at him coldly. “Do you want me to call Grandpa right now, or should I have my lawyer send the papers directly?” Aaron shut his mouth. The agreement I held was enough to knock him off his position as CEO of the Hayes Group and strip him of everything. The boy, whose name was apparently Miles Hayes, suddenly poked his head out and shouted at me: “Mean lady! Don’t bully my dad!” Children speak without thinking, but their words cut deepest. Aaron quickly covered the child’s mouth and looked at me in panic. “Well trained,” I said with a bitter smile. “Ruby hasn’t learned much over the years, but she’s certainly perfected the art of manipulation.” With that, I turned and walked out of the police station. The snow outside was heavy and bone-chillingly cold. I remembered five years ago when Ruby showed up at our door, heavily pregnant. Aaron knelt before me, his eyes bloodshot, saying the Hayes family line was thin and begging me to let the child live. I had just had a miscarriage then, at my most vulnerable. I signed the papers and made two conditions: First, Ruby and the child would go abroad and never return. Second, fifty percent of Aaron’s shares in Hayes Group would be transferred to my name. Grandfather Hayes was so furious he nearly beat Aaron to death with his cane. But to appease my anger, he allowed it. Aaron swore at the time: “Claire, I was confused for a moment. You’re the only one I love.” “The money is yours, my life is yours. Just let her have the baby, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” These past five years, he really did “make it up to me.” No matter how busy he was, we video-called every single day. He never missed a gift for any holiday. He even turned down contracts worth millions just to spend weekends with me. I thought time really could heal everything. The snow stopped. Aaron had the driver take the child home first. But he didn’t dare leave, and he didn’t dare let me leave either. So we sat in a café next to the police station. “Claire, it’s not what you think.” Aaron clasped his hands against his forehead, his voice low: “Ruby… she really did go abroad.” “But she couldn’t make it there. Miles has asthma and a heart condition.” “Medical costs abroad are too high. She couldn’t afford it on her own.” “So you brought them back?” I stirred my coffee. “Bringing them back is one thing, but you also set them up in a luxury apartment owned by Hayes Group and visited once a week. Aaron, are you running a charity or keeping a mistress?” “I just went to see the child!” Aaron defended himself frantically. “Claire, the child is innocent. Miles’s health is poor. Every time he has an episode, he cries for his father. What could I do? I couldn’t just watch him die!” “But you could watch me be played for a fool?” I shot back. “Aaron, did you think as long as you didn’t bring them in front of me, it didn’t count as breaking our agreement? What about all those promises you made?”

Aaron fell silent. Just then, his phone rang. Aaron glanced at the screen but didn’t answer. Immediately after, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. A soft, fragile voice came through: “Claire, this is Ruby.” “I know you’re with Aaron right now. Could you… let me speak with you?” I put it on speaker and placed the phone on the table. “Claire, everything is my fault.” Ruby’s voice carried a crying tone, but it wasn’t grating—instead, it sounded pitifully vulnerable. “I’m useless. I couldn’t support Miles, so I had the nerve to come back and beg Aaron.” “Aaron is a good man. He just pities the child… Please don’t blame him.” “If you can’t accept us, I’ll take Miles and leave right now.” “Even if we die out there, I won’t cause you any more trouble…” Suddenly, a child’s coughing came through the phone, along with Ruby’s panicked attempts to soothe him. Aaron’s face changed. He grabbed my phone and shouted into it: “Ruby, is Miles having another attack?!” “Don’t move! The medicine is in the cabinet… I’ll be right there!” He hung up and looked at me with desperation in his eyes. “Claire, Miles’s asthma is acting up. It could be life-threatening.” “I have to go… We can talk about this when we get home, okay?” I looked at the man before me. One second he was confessing to me, the next he heard something from her side and lost his mind completely. I knew him too well. Ruby didn’t need to throw tantrums or flaunt herself in front of me. All she needed was to show her fragility, and she had Aaron wrapped around her finger. “Go.” I leaned back in my chair, expression indifferent. “Aaron, if you walk out that door, we’re really done.” Aaron hesitated. He looked at me with internal struggle, but finally, he gritted his teeth. “Claire, this is a matter of life and death. I can’t ignore it.” With that, he left without looking back. I watched his retreating figure, then picked up the cold coffee in front of me and drank it all. Bitterness spread through my entire mouth. I took out my phone and called Grandfather Hayes. “Grandpa, I’m in the neighboring city. I’m coming to see you.” I went directly to the Hayes Group branch office in the neighboring city. Grandfather Hayes was inspecting the workplace. When he saw me arrive, he wasn’t surprised. Everyone was dismissed from the office, leaving only him and me. “Claire, why do you look so pale?” Grandfather held his tea, his sharp eyes scrutinizing me. “You already knew, didn’t you, Grandpa?” I got straight to the point. “Ruby has been back in the country for three years, living in a Hayes Group apartment, spending Aaron’s money.” “You have eyes everywhere in the company. There’s no way you didn’t know.” Grandfather paused in his tea-drinking and sighed. “Aaron is foolish and soft-hearted.” He set down his teacup. “I remember that child. Though he’s illegitimate, he still carries Hayes blood.” “His health is poor. It’s only natural for Aaron to take care of him.”

“Natural?” I laughed bitterly. “Then what about the agreement Aaron and I signed? Is it just scrap paper?” “Claire!” Grandfather’s tone grew heavier. “You are the lady of the Hayes family. You need to think long-term. As long as that woman doesn’t enter the family and doesn’t threaten your position…” “Why not give Aaron some face in public?” “Besides…” Grandfather’s gaze swept over my flat stomach, his meaning clear. “These past five years, there’s been no movement from your belly. The Hayes family empire needs an heir.” “Aaron keeping a backup outside is for the family’s sake.” I felt cold all over. In their eyes, my inability to conceive was the original sin. Aaron’s infidelity was soft-heartedness, the illegitimate child was securing the bloodline, and my anger was being unreasonable. “What if I insist on divorce?” I stared at Grandfather. His face darkened. He slammed his teacup on the table. “Nonsense!” “Do you think divorce is child’s play? Hayes Group’s stock price can’t withstand turmoil right now.” “Those shares you hold are the family’s guarantee to you, but also our leverage over you.” “You think you can walk away with Hayes family money? Not that easy!” Grandfather narrowed his eyes. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. In this wealthy family, there was no warmth—only calculated interests. Someone knocked on the office door. The secretary entered awkwardly. “Chairman, Mr. Hayes is here… and he brought the child.” Then Aaron walked in. He was carrying Miles, with Ruby following timidly behind. “Grandpa.” Aaron didn’t even dare look at me. He went straight to Grandfather with the child. “Miles heard you was here and insisted on seeing you.” Though Miles looked pale, he obediently called out, “Hello, Grandpa Hayes.” Grandfather’s stern face immediately softened. “Good child. Very well-behaved.” Grandfather reached out and patted the child’s head. Ruby stood in the corner, stealing a glance at me. That look didn’t match her fragile appearance—instead, it carried a hint of smugness. As long as Grandfather acknowledged this great-grandson, even if she couldn’t enter the family, she’d be credited with a great contribution to the Hayes family. And I would eventually be swept out the door. Aaron looked at me with newfound confidence: “Claire, even Grandpa says so. Just consider it for the family’s sake…” The nausea in my stomach could no longer be suppressed. I covered my mouth and rushed to the restroom, vomiting violently. When I returned, Ruby was suddenly kneeling before me, crying. “Claire, I know I shouldn’t have come back, but Miles needs heart surgery.” “The best specialist in the country is in this city. I’m trying to save my child’s life!” She looked up, her face the picture of pitiful vulnerability: “As soon as Miles’s surgery is successful, I’ll take him and leave immediately. I won’t get in your way.” “Claire, you’re a woman too. You’ve had a child before. Please, have mercy on a mother’s heart…”

Yes, I’d had a child, though I couldn’t carry it to term. But I couldn’t sympathize with Ruby. In the end, she was still the other woman who destroyed someone else’s relationship. “Claire… Miles’s surgery is scheduled for next week.” Aaron bit his lip: “But the surgery and follow-up treatment require a huge sum of money. The company’s liquid assets are all tied up in your new project…” I looked up at him. “So?” “I want to pause your project temporarily and… redirect the funds to Miles’s treatment.” Aaron avoided my gaze. “This is a matter of life and death…” That project was my blood, sweat, and tears—three months of all-nighters to help Hayes Group break into new markets. I trembled with rage. “Aaron, do you know what pausing the project means?” “It means tens of millions in upfront investment down the drain!” “Money can be earned back, but I can’t watch my son die!” Aaron shouted. “Enough!” Everything went black. My chest felt crushed by a boulder, my blood churning. That intense nausea and dizziness hit me again, more violently than ever before. I clutched my chest. My body went limp and I collapsed. When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. Aaron sat by the bed, holding a document, his expression blank. Seeing me awake, he jumped to his feet. “Claire, you’re awake?!” He leaned closer. “Are you uncomfortable anywhere? Does your stomach… does your stomach hurt?” I frowned and shook off his hand. “Aaron, what are you pretending now?” Aaron said nothing. He just handed me the document. I took it and looked. Intrauterine early pregnancy, six weeks. I froze. “The doctor said… your body is too weak. The previous miscarriage damaged your foundation.” Aaron’s eyes reddened, his voice choking: “This pregnancy wasn’t easy. Just now, with the emotional stress, there were already signs of threatened miscarriage…” “You must stay in bed to preserve the pregnancy. You absolutely cannot be upset again.” “This is a miracle… Claire, this is a miracle from heaven.” He was so excited he wanted to hug me but didn’t dare touch me. “If Grandpa finds out, he’ll be thrilled!” Watching him so overjoyed, I found it utterly ironic. “Aaron, are you happy?” I looked at him coldly. “Of course I’m happy! This is our child!” “But I’m not happy.” I touched my stomach, my eyes cold: “I don’t want this child anymore.” I pointed toward the door: “Rather than let him be born to face a father who plays favorites and an illegitimate half-brother who’ll fight for the inheritance…” “Better to terminate now.” “No!” Aaron roared, his eyes bloodshot. “This is my child! What right do you have to abort him? I won’t allow it!” “You won’t allow it?” I laughed. “Aaron, right now the child is in my body. I can keep it if I want, terminate it if I want.” “You want me to keep this child? Fine.” I sat up straight, my eyes sharp. “Choose one. Either send Ruby and that child back abroad permanently, never to return or contact us again. Or I walk into the operating room right now and terminate this pregnancy.”

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“When the hell is Serena going to leave?” I heard a few employees whispering about me in the break room. “Soon, right? It’s been three months already.” “I bet she’s gone this week. One fancy dinner.” “Deal.” I didn’t say anything. I turned and went back to my desk. My desk was next to the bathroom, and it smelled 24/7. I sat down, opened my computer, and went back to my spreadsheet. Nobody knew what I’d been recording every day for the past three months. And nobody knew just how long the layoff list would be at the company gala three months from now—the list I would be reading aloud. My name is Serena. I’m 32 years old. Three months ago, I was transferred to this branch office. My position was “clerk.” No specific duties, no clear reporting structure, not even an official ID badge. HR’s explanation was: “It’s a transition period. Just get acclimated.” I didn’t ask what “transition period” meant, or what I was supposed to be acclimating to. I just clocked in on time every day, sat at my desk, and worked on spreadsheets nobody wanted. The first week, some people still said hello. The second week, fewer people greeted me. The third week, out of twenty-plus people in the entire department, not one person looked at me. When I walked over, they scattered. When I sat down, they lowered their voices. When I went to the break room, it immediately fell silent. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what was happening. But I didn’t say anything. I just showed up on time every day, left on time, and finished whatever needed doing in between. On Monday morning, I discovered my desk had been moved. It used to be by the window. Now it was next to the bathroom. “Serena,” The admin assistant smiled sweetly. “It’s quieter over there. Perfect for you.” I glanced at her and said nothing. Fine. They wanted to move it? So be it. I carried my computer over, arranged my folders, and kept working. The bathroom door opened and closed, and the smell came in waves. People walked by, covering their noses and laughing. I pretended not to notice. At noon, I was the last to know about the department lunch. Manager Rachel came back in the afternoon and paused by my desk. “Serena, you didn’t go to the department lunch?” I looked up at her. “Nobody told me.” She froze for a second, then smiled. “Oh my, we forgot. Next time, okay?” She walked away. I lowered my head and kept typing. A colleague nearby muttered: “Acting like what? Still waiting for someone to invite her.” Another person laughed: “She’s thick-skinned. Let her wait.” I didn’t turn around. But I opened a new document and wrote on the first line: [Deliberate Exclusion Record] I wrote down names, one by one. When I finished, I saved it, closed it. Then I went back to my spreadsheet. At 4 PM, I finished a market analysis report. This was work I’d found for myself—nobody assigned it, nobody wanted it. But I did it anyway, and I did it carefully. I sent the report to Manager Rachel and CC’d General Manager Maxwell. “Manager, this is the Q4 market data I compiled. For your reference.” Five minutes later, Rachel replied. “Received.” Two words. That was it. The next day, I saw that report on Maxwell’s Instagram. The caption read: “Rachel’s team is incredible! This report is so professional!” Tons of likes and comments below. “Amazing!” “Following you means eating well!” “This data compilation is so detailed—great work!” I scrolled to the report’s cover page. In the author field, my name was gone. Replaced with “Rachel’s Team.” I stared at those four words for a long time. Then I opened my document and wrote on a new line: [Work Theft Record – Report Author Changed] I saved it and closed it. Over the next few days, similar things kept happening. The PPT I made became Lisa’s. The data I compiled became Maxwell’s. The proposal I wrote became “the department’s collective wisdom.” Every time, I recorded it. Date, content, people involved. One entry at a time, crystal clear. Friday afternoon, Rachel called me into her office. “Serena,” She sat in her chair, legs crossed. “How long have you been with the company?” “Three weeks.” “How’s it going?” “Okay.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes. “Okay? You think your work is okay?” I didn’t answer. “Serena, let me be honest with you.” She leaned forward. “You’re not a good fit for our department.” “Oh.” “Look at you—you don’t fit in, you’re not proactive, you just sit there alone every day like a piece of wood.” “Mm-hmm.” “Don’t you have anything to say?” I looked at her and said calmly: “Manager Rachel, what would you like me to say?” She paused, then gave a cold laugh. “I want you to have some self-awareness. If you know what’s good for you, write your resignation letter yourself. The company will give you compensation.” “What if I don’t?” “Don’t?” She leaned back. “Then don’t blame me for not being nice.” I stood up. “Okay. Got it.” I turned and left, gently closing the door behind me. Back at my desk, I opened the document and wrote: [Coerced Resignation Attempt – Rachel ] I saved it and closed it. I glanced at the calendar. Three more months.

Starting the fourth week, the isolation escalated. Before, it was not inviting me to meals, not talking to me. Now it was not notifying me about meetings. “Accidentally” losing my reimbursement forms. The printer always breaking down whenever I tried to use it. Office supplies I requisitioned never getting approved. The stapler I used—I bought it myself. The pens—I bought them myself. Even the A4 paper—I brought my own. Once, I went to the admin desk to get a notebook. The girl smiled and said: “Serena, your request isn’t in the system.” I said: “I submitted it last week.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s a system issue. Could you submit it again?” I submitted it again. A week later, still not approved. I stopped submitting. I went to the convenience store downstairs and bought a dozen notebooks for myself. Wednesday afternoon, I heard about the bet in the break room. “I bet she quits this week.” “I bet next week.” “What’s the wager?” “One fancy dinner. How’s that?” “Deal!” I stood in the doorway holding my cup, completely still. The people inside didn’t notice me. That afternoon, Rachel made her move again—calling a monthly department meeting. Ten minutes before the meeting, I saw everyone packing up their things. I asked Wendy next to me: “What meeting?” She glanced at me without answering and walked away with her notebook. I caught up and asked Maxwell: “What time is the meeting? Which conference room?” Maxwell didn’t even look back: “Don’t know.” I stood there, watching them disappear down the hallway one by one. The office area emptied out. Only me left. I opened my email and scrolled through it. No meeting notice. I sat back at my desk and opened my document: [Deliberate Exclusion from Meeting – All Department Members – Date: XX/XX] After writing it, I thought for a moment and added: [Meeting content to be investigated.] Half an hour later, they came back. Rachel walked in front, looking displeased. She passed my desk and stopped. “Serena, why didn’t you come to the meeting?” I looked up: “Nobody told me.” “We did notify you.” She frowned. “It was posted in the group.” “I checked. There wasn’t.” “Then maybe you didn’t see it.” There was mockery in her tone. I didn’t respond. She didn’t say anything more and turned away. Soon, my phone buzzed. HR had sent [Notice Regarding Exit Interview] “Ms. Serena, please come to the HR department at 3 PM on December 15th for an exit interview.” I stared at that email for a long time. They didn’t know who I was. They had no idea what would happen at the company’s year-end gala three months from now.

On the day of the exit interview, I arrived on time. HR Director Andrew said: “You’re Serena, right? Sit.” I sat down. He flipped through some documents and looked up at me. “Serena, I’ll be direct. The company isn’t satisfied with your performance.” “What about it isn’t satisfactory?” “All aspects, really.” He shrugged. “You don’t fit in, you’re not proactive, your work output isn’t high…” I interrupted him: “That market analysis report—the one Maxwell praised on Instagram—I wrote that.” He paused. “That… wasn’t that from Rachel’s team?” “The byline said Rachel’s Team, but I was the original author.” He frowned: “Do you have proof?” I smiled. “Director, I’m here today to listen to what you have to say, not to argue with you. Please continue.” He was taken aback but quickly recovered. “Anyway, the company’s position is that we hope you’ll voluntarily resign.” “What if I don’t?” “Don’t?” He took off his glasses and wiped them. “That would be rather complicated.” He didn’t finish, but the meaning was clear. If I didn’t leave, the isolation would continue. But I stood up and said bluntly: “I’m not leaving.” He froze. I looked at him calmly and said: “I will not voluntarily resign. If the company wants to fire me, follow proper procedure. Labor law requires written notice with stated reasons for contract termination.” “You…” “And let me remind you,” I paused, “Every time my work was credited to someone else, every time I was deliberately isolated—I have records. If the company wants to take this to court, I’m ready.” His expression changed. I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked out. Walking out of HR, I took a deep breath. Back at my desk, I noticed the atmosphere had changed. Before, they treated me like I didn’t exist. Now it was hostility. I opened my document. It was already several pages long. Dates, incidents, people involved, sources of evidence. Before I came here, I’d done my homework. This branch had been bottom-ranked in performance for three consecutive years. This department had issues with expense reimbursements for two straight years. This manager, Rachel—annual salary of $120,000, but virtually zero performance. Headquarters had wanted to take action for a long time, but they didn’t have evidence. So they sent me. My official title was “clerk.” In reality, I was the head of headquarters’ audit team. I was here to fire them.

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I lived with Alpha Kaelan for six years. Yet on my birthday, he brought home a girl. He was covered in blood, and the delicate girl was hiding in his arms. From that day on, he, who had always indulged me in everything, never looked at me again. Everyone thought I loved Kaelan desperately, that my heart was broken into pieces. I smiled and fiddled with the watch on my wrist. I was a spy planted by the Silverveil Pack in the Cinderclaw Pack. I’d been undercover by his side all these years for one purpose: to send him to hell. How could I… ever fall in love with him? Late at night, the villa was brightly lit. I sat on the sofa, relighting the candles on the cake. “Lyra, stop waiting.” “Kaelan said he’s not coming…” The lighter in my hand kept clicking open. The flickering flame sparked to life, then died. I stared at the flame. “If he doesn’t come home, I’ll just keep waiting.” “He promised to spend every birthday with me. What does it mean to break that promise?” But in reality, the clock hands on the wall had already pointed to three in the morning. He wasn’t coming back. And here I was with a whole crowd of people waiting in the villa—all my subordinates. Those who knew thought I was waiting for him to celebrate my birthday with me. Those who didn’t might think I was waiting for him to come home so I could stage a rebellion. Finally, one second before the clock struck four in the morning, the rumble of a car engine sounded downstairs. “Lyra! He’s back!” Someone rushed upstairs and loudly announced the news. I stood up and walked to the stairs, looking down. Yes, he was back. I frowned and asked the man standing downstairs, looking at me with an inscrutable expression. “Kaelan, who’s that woman in your arms?” Kaelan had a long knife wound stretching from the tail of his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Blood was still trickling from it. If anything, it added a touch of ruthlessness to his usually refined and handsome features. “This was caused by a silver weapon? Looks like it’s healing slowly.” I pressed gauze to his wound, but he grabbed my wrist. “Lyra, have I been spoiling you too much all these years, hmm?” His fingers traced restlessly across the inside of my wrist. That’s just how he was—hiding all his menace and threats inside gentle gestures. I lowered my eyes. “Spoiling? I guess so.” He chuckled twice, his fingertips lightly and lazily pressing against my radius bone. “Is that so? Then calling so many people to my house…” “Those who don’t know might think I’m some kind of mob boss.” Well, he was exactly that—a mob boss. He’d walked through days of licking blood from knife edges to reach where he was today, all built on piles of corpses and skulls. Oh, but now he’d gone legitimate. He was a young entrepreneur. The newspapers were full of praise, calling him a brilliant young talent. It was disgusting. “Who’s the girl you brought back?” I struggled slightly, just enough for him to release my hand. And successfully changed the subject. But he relaxed his eyebrows and now avoided me. “None of your business.” The man stood up, took the gauze from my hand, then leaned down and kissed the corner of my lips. “You have time to worry about what woman I brought back…” “But no time to worry about how I got injured.” With that, he bit my neck as a slight punishment. “I really raised you for nothing.”

The wind in New York City had been a bit strong these past few days. Or perhaps it was because this abandoned building where I stood was drafty everywhere. In the distance, I could faintly hear the sounds of punching and kicking, while someone beside me offered me a cigarette. I pushed it away. “Kaelan doesn’t like me smoking.” “Help me investigate the girl Kaelan brought back last night.” I turned to speak to the person beside me. He’d been with me since I first entered the Cinderclaw Pack. Because he ranked seventh, his name was Rhys. I usually called him Rhys. Since he’d been with me so long, he would occasionally say things others wouldn’t dare to say. “Lyra, sigh…” “You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met.” “So you should understand that emotions and love shouldn’t exist in people like us.” He stood beside me with his hands in his pockets, looking with me at the wasteland of ruins. “Which of us doesn’t have blood on our hands?” “He’s gone legitimate now. He’d never marry someone like us with blood-stained hands.” “Sure, we took the fall for his murders, so he treats us well. But becoming his Luna? That’s definitely impossible…” Yes, the reason Kaelan trusted me so much, spoiled me like this all these years, was because I’d taken the fall for his murders. Over the years, my hands had been stained with quite a bit of blood, so much so that sometimes late at night when I looked at myself, I seemed like a vengeful ghost. So much so that sometimes I almost forgot my true identity. A spy. A nail buried deep in dark soil. A long, lethal fuse. Purchased with my thirteen years and the blood of my own people. No one would come to this abandoned building. The sounds of fighting had ended not long ago. I raised my head, gazing at the bright white clouds under the clear sky. I didn’t care how many women Kaelan had. I was just afraid. Decades of meticulous preparation, failing because of one uncertain variable. “Let’s go meet this young lady who was brought back.” I turned and spoke to the person behind me. Unlike the cries and screams that echoed through the abandoned building, Kaelan’s villa was peaceful and serene. As soon as I entered, I saw a girl with braided pigtails lying on the sofa reading a book. When she saw me, she startled and immediately became reserved. “You…” The girl looked at me, her eyes evasive, then lowered her lashes. “Are you the Luna?” I was surprised she would address me that way and sat down beside her. “No.” “Ah…” The girl seemed a bit disappointed and shrank further into the corner. “I thought only someone as beautiful and outstanding as you would be worthy of Kaelan.” The girl’s eyes held a kind of worldly innocence. I smiled bitterly to myself. Here was another girl who’d been dazzled by Kaelan’s appearance. Just as I was about to reach out and pat her head, someone suddenly stopped me. “Lyra, Kaelan said you can’t touch Elena.” The person arrived quickly, getting right in my face. If not for the respect they still had for me, they would have physically escorted me out. “Please don’t come to this villa anymore. It belongs to Elena now.” The girl was so frightened she curled into a ball again, while I raised my eyebrows. Tsk, tsk, such a level of protection. “Fine, I’ll leave.” Kaelan had brought back plenty of women over the years, but this was the first time he’d protected one like this. “Lyra, this is all the information we could find.” In the car, Rhys bent down to hand me the documents. There was very little information, but even this much was probably only what Kaelan wanted me to find. This young woman’s full name was Elena. She was three years younger than Kaelan. And she and Kaelan… grew up in the same Pack. Before Kaelan brought her back, she worked at an orphanage. Her record was squeaky clean—they might as well have printed “delicate hothouse flower” on the paper. “Kaelan seems… very different with her.” Rhys whispered in my ear. Indeed. Could this Elena really be Kaelan’s white moonlight, the one pure figure in his dark heart? I bit my nail, thinking. As far as I knew, Kaelan had very few weaknesses at this point. He had no parents. He’d climbed up from the very bottom, entering this Pack even later than I had. Young but ruthless—I’d watched him climb his way up, and I’d followed him all along. I’d chosen the right person, but also the wrong one. Right because I’d become his confidant. Losing me would be like severing his own arm. Wrong because… I hadn’t anticipated his explosive growth. By the time I realized it, it was too late. My thoughts were interrupted by Rhys’s next words. He patted my shoulder. “Kaelan says…” “He wants to eat food you’ve cooked.” If Kaelan wanted to eat, I had to cook for him. I smiled slightly and told the driver to turn around. To the market.

The villa where Elena was staying was just one insignificant property among Kaelan’s many holdings. The place where I was now barely counted as Kaelan’s “home.” It was a simple apartment building, yet I had no idea how many bodyguards were watching it. I carried the groceries upstairs by myself, then washed the vegetables, boiled water, and cooked. What gourmet food hadn’t Kaelan tasted? How could he be devoted to food I made with my own hands? Yet every time he watched me cook, his gaze stuck only to me. It really gave the illusion of fated mates, making my stomach churn. This time, I was dealing with fish on the cutting board when he suddenly embraced me from behind. I didn’t even know when he’d arrived. “Don’t touch me. It’s fishy.” “Where’s it fishy?” He laughed, brushed aside my hair, and playfully toyed with my earring. I turned on the faucet and washed the fish blood from my hands. “Not cooking anymore? We can finish this first, then cook.” His kisses fell on my neck. I half-pushed him away uncomfortably. Until I fell into those eyes of his. Even my smile became practiced and seductive. I lowered my eyes and finally pushed him away. “Angry?” He was slightly teasing, pinching my cheek. “Because I didn’t celebrate your birthday? Did you puff up like a little pufferfish?” “Who’s a pufferfish…” I genuinely wanted to retort to that comment, but he tapped my nose. “You. Covered in thorns, disobedient, and… heartbreaking.” The marble countertop was fairly smooth. He lifted me up and placed me on it. The man lowered his head to kiss me. Everything was stirred into chaos by him. I couldn’t breathe, clutching tightly at his sleeve. Until he released me, smiling as he looked at me. I suddenly realized I was still so naive. When he smiled, I couldn’t tell what he meant. “Do you know why I was injured like that when I brought Elena back that day?” “Because she had something interesting in her hands.” He produced a photograph from somewhere and handed it to me. I smoothed out the photo and looked at the contents. “Lyra, don’t you think this is fascinating?” Kaelan spoke by my neck, his laughing breath crystal clear. “She said she’s seen you. She called you… Sephira.” The photo showed me wearing the distinctive uniform of the Silverveil Pack, in a group photo with Pack members. Kaelan lowered his head and kissed the tip of my nose. “Hmm? Baby, care to explain?” I looked down at the photograph. The tofu soup on the stove was still bubbling. He just watched me quietly like that, as if he didn’t want to miss a single expression. After a long moment, I laughed and raised my hand to hit him. “What do you mean? Kaelan, did you forget…” “I am from the Silverveil Pack, but later I was kicked out and became a Rogue…” When they arranged my identity, considering the possibility that my past with the Silverveil Pack might be exposed, the Pack simply gave me a backstory of being permanently exiled for breaking rules. Kaelan looked down at me. I was pinned tightly against the counter by him. I didn’t know if this paranoid lunatic would pick up the knife from the cutting board and strike me down. Until he chuckled softly. He squeezed my waist, neither gently nor roughly. “Oh? Is that so.” “Sorry, I forgot.” Releasing his restraint on me, he smiled as if nothing had happened. He even had the leisure to take the ladle from the pot and stir. “Not far from being ready, right?” “I’m so hungry, Lyra.” Though he said that, he stared straight at me. I pressed my lips together, straightened my clothes, and nodded. As I adjusted my collar, I finally understood why he’d squeezed my waist earlier. My back was already soaked through. That meal, at least for me, was tasteless. Actually, every day with Kaelan, I ate without tasting. I desperately wanted to plunge that silver dagger into this man’s chest. I thought about it every day, until I was nearly driven mad. Until a light, casual voice broke through my thoughts. “Lyra, there’s a shipment stopping at the port tomorrow. Handle it for me personally.” I looked up, gazing at the man across the table through the food. “The buyer is very cautious. Go alone. Don’t bring any subordinates.” I froze for a moment, instinctively asking him. “What kind of shipment?” He stared at me, smiling in silence. Then I understood—don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask. That’s just how Kaelan was. He kept secrets even from me. I nodded, picked up my bag, and walked toward the door. “Alright, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go first. I…” But as I walked past him, he grabbed my wrist. “Why are you so distracted today?” The man’s knuckles casually traced across the inside of my wrist. He had no intention of letting me leave. I smiled bitterly. “I just dealt with a subordinate this afternoon. I’m probably… a bit tired.” Kaelan said nothing more, but he didn’t let me go either. So we fell into complete silence. I could only feel the sensation of him stroking my wrist again and again. Until he softened his tone. “Stay tonight, hmm?” In that instant, my instinct was to refuse. “Forget it, I have things tomorrow… mmph.” So I was suddenly pulled into his arms, pressed against the dining table, with delicate kisses falling on my neck. The dim yellow light flickered on and off. In my panic, I looked into his eyes. He was always like this when aroused. Restrained, yet with reddened eyes. Crazy and… holding back.

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On a game show, the host asked my mom: “What’s one plus one?” My mom didn’t hesitate: “It equals three.” Everyone froze. My family had joined this show to raise money for my astronomical medical bills. Answer ten questions correctly, and they’d win five million dollars. After struggling through nine questions, the host took pity and asked a softball question. This prize money was my lifeline. But my mom, a PhD in mathematics, deliberately answered it wrong. I bolted upright in my hospital bed, chest tight with pain. The host recovered quickly, plastering on a smile: “Dr. Lily Smith is a mathematics PhD. Perhaps in unexplored mathematical fields, one plus one can equal three.” “However, the question I just asked is very simple. You only need to think like a first-grader!” But my mom blinked and said firmly: “One plus one equals three.” The host’s expression darkened. My brother held up two fingers, waving them frantically in front of Mom’s face. “Mom! Just answer one more question correctly and we can get the prize money for Chloe’s surgery!” “This isn’t the time for jokes!” Dad was sweating bullets too. “Honey, did you mishear the question? Or did you misspeak?” But no matter how Dad and my brother pleaded, Mom stuck to her answer—”one plus one equals three.” The audience exploded: “Is this mother insane?” “This has to be scripted! What mother would want her own child to die?” Each question had a ten-minute time limit. As the countdown neared its end, I begged the doctor to help me video call the show. The production team connected immediately. My pale, weak face appeared on the big screen. The crowd gasped in sympathy. The host’s eyes reddened with emotion. At sixteen, I’d been diagnosed with a malignant heart tumor and was in critical condition every moment. The only hope for my survival was this prize money. The host was frantic: “There are only three minutes left on the countdown.” “If you answer incorrectly, all your family’s efforts will be wasted!” To qualify for this show, my whole family had stayed up for three months memorizing the question bank. They’d barely made it through nine questions, and now Mom was spouting nonsense on the tenth. I spoke carefully: “Mom, the prize is five million dollars. My treatment only costs three million.” “I won’t take a penny of what’s left!” “And when I recover, I’ll work hard and give you every paycheck to show my gratitude!” The crowd murmured sympathetically. Mom’s eyes welled up too. With ten seconds left on the countdown, Mom raised her hand to indicate she wanted to change her answer. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Mom had just been joking with everyone. “I’m sorry, I misspoke earlier.” “One plus one should equal…” I held my breath. Mom surveyed the room, then suddenly smiled. “One plus one equals one!” The countdown ended. The five million dollars on the screen instantly disappeared!

Then Mom said leisurely: “Sorry, I was careless and said it wrong.” “One plus one should equal two.” But the countdown had ended. My surgery funds were gone. Sharp pain shot through my chest. I nearly blacked out from the agony. My brother lost control, shouting: “Mom! What are you doing?” “Chloe’s going to die!” Mom just calmly pointed at the screen: “Look, isn’t Chloe suffering?” “You know she’s suffering and you deliberately answered wrong?!” My brother’s eyes were bloodshot. “You knew perfectly well that if you answered correctly, she could live!” “This is all your fault…” Mom suddenly raised her voice: “My fault? I didn’t do it on purpose!” “Of course I know one plus one equals two, but I was just careless!” Careless? My eyes widened in shock. How could anyone carelessly answer one plus one wrong? Mom knew perfectly well that without the prize money for surgery, I would die immediately. Why would she… Amid everyone’s confusion and anger, Mom raised an eyebrow and turned to look at my brother. “Carson, do you remember? On your middle school entrance exam, you lost a full five points because you wrote one plus one equals three.” “Because of those five points, you couldn’t get into the top middle school.” “When I criticized you then, you had the nerve to talk back, saying you were just careless and would be more careful next time.” “Today I’m showing you exactly what kind of consequences a moment of carelessness can cause!” Mom pointed at the big screen: “Take a good look and remember what Chloe looks like right now, covered in sweat from pain.” “This is the consequence of carelessness!” “Today I’m using your sister’s suffering to teach you a lesson!” Everyone exploded. I stared in disbelief. My brother was already a college junior! Mom was still holding a grudge about his middle school entrance exam! Dad was furious: “Do you realize Chloe’s about to die?” “If you wanted to teach Carson a lesson, couldn’t you have picked another time?” Mom muttered impatiently: “Doctors always exaggerate. Chloe’s so young, she can definitely hold on longer than other people.” “Carson’s careless habits should have been corrected long ago! Gentle methods don’t work, so I’m giving him a lesson he’ll remember in his bones!” I could barely breathe. The nurse gripped my hands tightly, her eyes full of pity. Dad roared that he’d fight Mom to the death. Mom raised her hand to block him. “What’s the rush?” “Doesn’t the show have one more bonus round?” “If we answer the next question correctly, we won’t get five million, but we can still get three million!” “That’s enough for Chloe’s surgery!” With the host’s intervention, Dad and my brother finally calmed down. Mom looked at the big screen, her gaze tender: “Chloe, hang in there a little longer.” “Mom just wanted to take this opportunity to teach your brother a lesson.” “I promise I’ll answer the next question correctly!” I bit my lip hard, forcing back tears. “Mom, I know you love me, but for the next question… can Dad or Carson answer instead?” Mom’s expression froze. Dad and my brother were afraid Mom would pull another stunt and strongly supported my suggestion. But unfortunately. During the earlier rounds, they’d already used up their chances to answer. So Mom had to go up again. This last question determined whether I lived or died. The studio fell silent. The host was sweating as he frantically searched the question bank, finally selecting the simplest possible question. “Ms. Lily Smith, what’s your birthday?” I relaxed, looking at the host with gratitude. Mom hit the answer button without hesitation. But said: “Host, I’d like to use my lifeline—phone a friend!”

The room erupted. How could someone not remember their own birthday? A wave of panic hit me. Since I got sick, Mom had been getting more and more gray hair. I’d heard that middle-aged people under prolonged mental stress could easily develop dementia. Had Mom’s condition already deteriorated this badly? Tears blurred my vision. My hands trembled. Mom chose Dad as her lifeline. Dad looked helpless: “Your birthday is January 8th.” Mom nodded and pressed the answer button again. But was suddenly stopped by my anxious brother. “Mom, did you hear clearly?” “What date is it exactly? Repeat it!” At my brother’s insistence, Mom repeated “January 8th” three times before being allowed to press the answer button. But Mom still didn’t speak. Seeing Mom’s nervousness, I endured the sharp pain in my heart and tried to comfort her: “Don’t be afraid, Mom. Just answer this one question and it’ll all be over.” Mom smiled at me. But her answer plunged me into ice-cold despair. “My birthday is January 9th!” The air froze instantly. The host immediately tried to smooth things over: “Your husband said your birthday is January 8th.” “Ms. Smith must have misspoken. Please answer again!” But Mom’s gaze was resolute: “I didn’t misspeak. I said it wrong on purpose.” The audience exploded. My heart hurt so badly I couldn’t straighten up. The nurse tried to end the video call, but I stopped her. “Mom… why did you deliberately answer wrong again?” My voice shook with pain. Mom’s eyes filled with tears, but her tone was aggrieved: “It’s all your father’s fault!” Not just Dad—everyone was stunned. Dad had told her the correct answer. What had he done wrong? Under the host’s questioning, Mom wiped her tears and revealed the truth. “A few weeks ago was our twentieth wedding anniversary and my birthday.” “But Sean actually got the date wrong!” “Sean! You said my birthday was January 9th, so now I’m making it come true!” Dad’s veins bulged with anger: “I did accidentally get your birthday wrong.” “But those few days I was working consecutive all-nighters to earn medical expenses for Chloe! I was completely exhausted and confused, so I got the date wrong.” “I apologized afterward, and worked three more weeks of all-night delivery shifts to buy you a gold bracelet to make up for it. Isn’t that enough?” Mom said nothing, just bowed her head and wiped her tears. The countdown kept ticking down. The burning pain in my chest had become unbearable, cold sweat soaking the bedsheets. Dad kept begging Mom to give the correct answer so they could get the money and rush me into surgery. But Mom remained unmoved. I was completely heartbroken. So my life was just a tool for Mom to teach my family lessons. Three minutes left on the countdown. Using all my strength, I personally ended the livestream. The doctors and nurses in the room all had red eyes. My voice was barely a whisper, but utterly determined: “Doctor, I want to sign an organ donation agreement.” “Also, after I die, I want my mom to witness the entire organ removal process!” Mom, don’t you love teaching people lessons? Then today, I’ll teach you one too! The second I finished signing, excruciating pain engulfed my entire body. Everything went black. In the last second before I lost consciousness, I heard Mom roaring on the show: “What are you all panicking about?” “Chloe’s illness isn’t new—how could she suddenly die just like that?” Dad was forced to his knees before Mom in front of a national audience, begging forgiveness and promising never to forget another important date. Mom finally gave the correct answer in the last second before the countdown ended. But it was already too late.

In the emergency room, doctors frantically pressed on my chest. But my heartbeat grew weaker and weaker. The attending physician shouted: “We need to operate now!” But the prize money hadn’t arrived yet. My account only had a few hundred dollars. Hospital policy only allowed standard emergency care. As consciousness faded, I seemed to see Mom. Mom, you knew I could die any second. Why did you keep deliberately answering wrong and wasting time? Mom, don’t you love me? The doctor’s CPR grew more forceful. I could almost hear my ribs cracking. Mom, I really can’t hold on much longer… If you could just come see me one last time, I wouldn’t blame you. But I waited and waited. Shot after shot of epinephrine was injected into my veins, yet my breathing still gradually weakened. The monitor beeped. Hospital policy: no money, no surgery. The doctor called the production team furiously: “Didn’t they answer correctly? Why hasn’t the prize money arrived?” But the production team was helpless too. “We wanted to transfer the money directly to the hospital account, but her mother insisted on cash!” “They’re probably rushing to the hospital with the cash now.” The breath I’d been barely holding onto finally gave out. My heart monitor flatlined. Then I heard my family arguing. “Chloe’s hanging by a thread—why did you insist on cash?” Mom said self-righteously: “Three years ago, you got scammed out of two hundred dollars online!” “Online payments are so dangerous, and you still haven’t learned?” “Cash is safest. Today I’m teaching you a good lesson!” Dad was frantic, rushing forward: “Fine, fine! Cash is safe!” “But what about Chloe? Every second she waits puts her in more danger!” Mom said reluctantly: “Stop talking!” “If Chloe’s in danger, it’s because you cursed her!” “She was fine this morning—how could something happen this afternoon?” In the emergency room, the doctor was pulling a white sheet over my face. Oblivious, Mom pushed open my hospital room door. “Chloe! Mom brought the money!”

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