Before the SATs, my childhood friend, Alex, was having a mental breakdown. He kept talking about jumping off the roof. I tutored him day and night, cheering him on, until my own class rank dropped by over a hundred spots. But one day, I went back to the classroom to grab some forgotten notes. I saw Alex, the guy who supposedly couldn’t even solve the first multiple-choice question on a practice test, effortlessly solve the final, hardest calculus problem in ten minutes. He slid his work over to the housekeeper’s daughter: “See? It’s simple. And Sarah’s rank has already dropped. You don’t need to feel inferior anymore.” 1 I stood at the back door of the classroom, staring blankly as Alex held a pen, solving the final calculus problem in under ten minutes. He slid the paper over to the housekeeper’s daughter, Lily. His tone, usually irritable these days, was calm and gentle: “See? It’s simple. And Sarah’s rank has already dropped. You don’t need to feel inferior anymore.” I walked slowly towards them, step by step. The steps on the paper were clear and logical, the handwriting steady. It didn’t look like something written by someone on the verge of a breakdown. Yet, just this afternoon, Alex had cried to me about the immense pressure he was under, about not knowing what to do as his grades slipped. I heard my own voice trembling: “Alex…” Lily turned first. Her almond eyes widened when she saw me, and she hurriedly tried to distance herself from Alex: “Uh, Sarah… it’s so late… what are you doing here?” She wrung her hands nervously. Alex, however, only paused for a second before reaching out and pulling Lily back close to him: “Don’t be afraid. She won’t dare bully you.” I clenched my fists, pointing at the solution on the paper: “What is this?” He sighed. “Since you already know, I won’t hide it from you.” I looked at him, waiting for a reasonable explanation. But his words stopped my breath: “Sarah, you’re too strong. You’re putting too much pressure on Lily.” “So you faked test anxiety? Faked suicidal tendencies? Tricked me into using my study time to watch over you, to tutor you? You watched me act like a clown while waiting for my grades to plummet, is that it?!” Alex sighed again. “Sarah, Lily is a scholarship student. Don’t be a bully.” “Is getting good grades bullying her?!” I stepped forward, but someone grabbed me in a hug: “Sarah!” Lily was crying: “Don’t hit Alex! It’s my fault. My mental state was bad. Seeing you so successful gave me too much pressure… “Alex did this for me! If you want to hit someone, hit me!” She grabbed my hand and tried to slap her own face with it. “Enough!” Alex pushed me away. “If you have a problem, come at me. What kind of person bullies her?” Slap! I slapped him hard across the face. Alex stood there, stunned. I gritted my teeth, tears streaming down my face: “I just wanted to help you… and you used me like this…” He looked at my tears, froze, and suddenly panicked: “Uh, no, I just… I didn’t think this would hurt you so much…” “Get out!” I slapped his reaching hand away and stepped back. “I don’t know you anymore!” 2 I ran back to the dorms, crying. Tomorrow was a holiday, and I was the only one in the dorm who had applied to stay on campus. In the empty room, I hugged a boxed fountain pen and cried until I couldn’t breathe. It was the last gift my brother left me. “Brother… I miss you so much…” Two years ago, my brother also walked to the roof because his grades suddenly dropped before the SATs. I came out of evening study hall to hear the commotion, people saying someone had jumped. The last thing I saw was my brother’s bloodied face being covered by a white sheet. All he left me was a fountain pen and a diary. And I lost the diary the very next day. I was depressed for two months. Those two months, Alex was the one who walked with me through it. He knew my mental state best during that time. He was terrified I’d walk into traffic, following me to and from school every day. But ever since Lily transferred to our school, he changed. He knew how deep that trauma scarred me, yet he chose the most hurtful way to deceive me! He knew I wouldn’t refuse. Even though helping him made my rank drop by over a hundred spots, I didn’t give up. Because I was so afraid he would become the next victim, just like my brother. Turns out, it was all to make Lily feel better. And I had been worried sick about him every day. I wiped my tears, took out my prep books, and started grinding problems like crazy. He wanted my grades to drop so Lily wouldn’t feel inferior? I’m going to make sure Lily can never catch up to me! 3 The mock exam results came out quickly. Everyone gasped as soon as they saw the rankings: “Whoa! Sarah is back!” “Damn! Sarah is number one! Didn’t she drop to like 200 last time?” “How come I don’t see Lily’s name this time? She used to be number one.” “Can you guys shut up?!” Someone yelled. Everyone turned to see Lily lying on her desk, sobbing uncontrollably. A group of her friends surrounded her, comforting her: “It’s okay, it’s normal to have a bad test. Who gets first place every time?” “Don’t be sad. That Sarah girl dropped to 200, and now suddenly she’s first? Who believes that? She probably cheated.” “Exactly. Everyone knows her grades were trash lately.” Lily sobbed: “Don’t say that… Sarah wouldn’t do that.” “Lily, you’re too kind!” Someone shouted angrily: “She bullies you because your mom is her housekeeper, and you still defend her!” Some classmates were confused: “What housekeeper?” The friends got excited: “You guys don’t know? Lily’s mom is a maid at Sarah’s house. Sarah bullies her every day, even forbidding Lily to score higher than her, or she’ll dock her mom’s wages!” The girl patted Lily’s head as she spoke: “She only tells us about these grievances. “Lily wanted to try her real level before the SATs, so she tried hard a few times. Sarah scolded her mom immediately. “Lily had no choice but to tutor Sarah, pushing her to first place while wasting her own time. That’s why she failed this time.” The classmates realized: “So Sarah’s good grades were all because Lily helped her!” “Yeah, the times Lily tried for herself and didn’t tutor Sarah, those trash grades were Sarah’s real level!” Bang! I kicked the door open. The chatter in the classroom vanished instantly. 4 Lily’s eyes widened: “Sarah…” Slap! I slammed a stack of scratch paper onto the desk, looking down at her: “Done acting? Hmm?” She blinked. I threw the papers into the air. Sheets fluttered down like snow, covered in solutions to various problems. On every sheet, there were two distinct handwritings. One guiding, one solving. Someone recognized it: “This… isn’t this Lily and Alex’s handwriting?” “Wait, so Alex was tutoring Lily?” “Damn, Alex is this good? Then why did he tank the last few exams?” “They said it was test anxiety.” … I sneered, looking at Alex in the corner of the classroom: “Yeah, Alex. Did it feel good faking anxiety? Did it feel good tricking me into tutoring you, wasting my own study time?!” The classmates paused, looking at Alex: “Faked?” “Whoa, look at these steps, look at this handwriting. Does this look like someone with test anxiety?” “Oh~ Alex played us? How much did Lily pay you to sabotage your childhood friend?” “Maybe he wasn’t paid with money…” Meaningful laughter rippled through the room. “You… you guys are talking nonsense!” Alex slammed his desk and stood up. Lily just cried harder. I scoffed: “If I’m an eyesore, then get your grades up and beat me! “If you beat me fair and square, I’ll respect it. But this? This is disgusting!” Finally, I bent down to look Lily in the eye: “The pressure I give you will continue. If you don’t like me, get your skills up.” I turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

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I found myself a tall, rich, and handsome boyfriend. After dating for three years, I decided to bring him home for the holidays to meet my parents. But as soon as I sent our photo to the family group chat, it exploded! “Sis, no matter how desperate you are for a man, you can’t just date any monster, right?” “Are you just trying to avoid blind dates by picking up some random guy to piss off Mom?” I looked at my boyfriend beside me in astonishment. Six-foot-two, eight-pack abs, dressed in a custom Armani suit, looking like a young Keanu Reeves. The next second, Dad sent a photo back to me with a message: “Yara, are you blind? You found such a short, ugly, poor boyfriend?” I looked at the man in the photo: old, balding, with a beer belly, looking not even five-foot-three. He wore tattered clothes and hugged me with a lecherous expression. But this photo hadn’t been AI-processed or Photoshopped. I looked up at my boyfriend; he was clearly still a god among men. I kept asking people around me for confirmation, but everyone saw my boyfriend as short, ugly, and poor. Unable to bear the blow, I became paranoid and gradually lost my mind. Eventually, I was sent to a mental hospital and accidentally beaten to death by another patient. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn back to the moment I was preparing to announce my boyfriend. 1 My parents have always favored my younger sister. I suspected they wanted me to give up my boyfriend to her. This time, I didn’t send a photo of us together to the family group chat. Instead, I sent a solo photo of my boyfriend and lied. “This is the boyfriend my best friend just started dating. What do you guys think?” But their reply was exactly the same as before. “Why would Claire date such a short, ugly, poor guy? Is she going through something recently?” “Yara, as her best friend, you should advise her not to just pick anyone.” “Sis, hurry up and tell Claire to break up with him. That’s clearly a toad trying to eat swan meat!” I was dumbfounded. If in the last life they fooled me because they knew Gideon was my boyfriend… In this life, they had no reason to fool my best friend. Just as I was dazing, Mom sent a message. “Didn’t you say you found a boyfriend? It’s almost the holidays; shouldn’t you bring him home for Mom to see?” Dad chimed in too: “That’s right! A family of four should become a family of five. You’re not getting any younger.” “Sis, when are you bringing my brother-in-law home? Don’t be like Claire!” My hand holding the phone broke out in a cold sweat. Thinking about the expressions on their faces if I brought my boyfriend home… Gideon’s tall figure hugged me from behind, burying his head in the crook of my neck, acting spoiled. “Yara, what did your family say? You’ll take me to see your parents for the holidays, right?” I looked at his handsome profile. Sunlight shone on him like a descending god. How could he be the short, ugly, poor guy my family described? This height difference… this sculpted face… the quality of these clothes… Everything reminded me that Gideon was the epitome of tall, rich, and handsome. This time, I was cautious and didn’t agree immediately: “Of… of course I’ll take you to see my parents. But before that, do me a small favor.” He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Don’t say small favor; I’d go through fire and water for you.” I hatched a plan. “Gideon, can you go to the park later and take a few photos with my best friend?” Gideon’s face fell instantly, looking hurt. “Yara Zhou, are you planning to push your man away?” I quickly denied it, lying that I lost a game of Truth or Dare and it was just a request from my best friend. “Just take three photos together in the park and you can leave. No physical contact needed.” Seeing my pleading expression, Gideon finally softened. “Just this once.” I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to call my best friend. “Claire, are you free? I just wanted to ask you to take three photos with my boyfriend in the park.” Unexpectedly, my best friend refused vehemently. “No way? Let me take a photo with that short, ugly, poor boyfriend of yours? You might as well kill me!” It was one thing for my family to fool me, but why did my best friend say the same thing? She had met my boyfriend a long time ago. Why did she only say he was short, ugly, and poor now? “Yara, I wanted to advise you to break up three years ago. Seeing how deeply you loved him, I was afraid you’d do something stupid, so I never said anything.” “You’re just love-brained. How can you treat that kind of trash like a treasure? I want to vomit just smelling the old-man smell on him. How have you endured it for three years?” I was startled. Could beauty really be in the eye of the beholder? Even the old-man smell on him felt like a fresh fragrance to me, smelling so good… 2 I still didn’t believe it. I took a deep breath and decided to bribe my best friend. “If you agree this time, I’ll give you the newly released LV bag.” “Deal. Don’t let there be a next time.” After my best friend hung up, the more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Even if I used beauty filters, the difference wouldn’t be this huge. However, the photos Claire sent three days later shattered my fantasy. The man in the photo was actually the same one my dad sent me in my past life. I looked at the photo on my phone. Still purely natural, no traces of editing. Just then, Gideon came home. I rushed up to him. “Gideon, did you keep the photos from today?” “I did, otherwise wouldn’t I be nagged by you?” He handed me his phone. In the photo, he stood with my best friend, still looking like a god. How could this be… where did it go wrong? I took his phone to the balcony and compared the two photos repeatedly. Same park, same time, same pose, only the person was different. Checking the remaining two one by one, it was the same. Gideon came to the balcony, hugged me, and said aggrievedly: “Babe, I did what you said. Why do you still look unhappy?” The scent on him was still so fresh, intoxicating like orange soda. But thinking that the man holding me now might be that person, I got goosebumps all over. “How could I? I… was just jealous, that’s why I’m unhappy.” Hearing this, Gideon wasn’t aggrieved anymore. “Then since I completed your task, you have to give me a kiss.” I looked at the angelic face in front of me and wanted to kiss him, but remembering the person in the photo, I instantly lost my appetite. Gently pushing him away, I smiled guiltily. “What’s a kiss? I’ll cook for you personally tonight as a reward.” Gideon didn’t notice my abnormality, just kissed my cheek and said okay. I went to the kitchen, sent this photo to the family group chat, and added a message. “Is the person in this photo the same one you saw last time?” The group replied quickly. “Why hasn’t Claire broken up with that man yet? They’re totally mismatched! Claire is 5’5″; wearing heels, she’s a head taller than him.” “Yara, has your best friend been brainwashed by this man? What exactly is redeeming about him?” “Sis, look at his clothes, full of old-man vibes. He’s probably wearing his dad’s secondhand clothes!” Just in case I didn’t believe it, my dad sent a solo photo of the man in the group. “Look, isn’t this the same person from the photo you sent last time?” I examined this solo photo carefully. Still same time, same background, same pose, different person. Why are the photos I took and the ones they see not of the same person? Seeing I hadn’t come out for a long time, Gideon knocked on the kitchen door. “Yara, why are you spacing out in the kitchen? Should I cook?” “No need, no need, it’ll be done soon. You wait at the dining table first.” I quickly finished two dishes and brought them out. As Gideon sat down, I caught a glimpse of the butterfly birthmark on his neck. That was unique to Gideon. I hurriedly pulled out the photos from my best friend and the family group to compare. I was dumbfounded instantly. The birthmark on that man’s neck was exactly the same as Gideon’s… 3 I picked at my rice absentmindedly, looking at Gideon beside me, and spoke cautiously. “Gideon… I have a question. Don’t be angry if I ask.” Gideon turned to look at me, smiling gently. “Okay, I won’t be angry no matter what you ask.” “Um… have people around you ever commented on your looks before?” He was silent for a moment. My heart thumped. Did I hit a sore spot? Did everyone think he was ugly? The next moment, he chuckled, grabbing my hand and placing it on his face. “Since I was little, everyone praised me for being handsome. Starting from middle school, I was voted the campus hunk every year.” Afraid I wouldn’t believe him, he took out his phone to show me photos from his college days. For four full years, Gideon’s photos hung on the “campus gods” wall, winning by a landslide. Seeing my confused expression, Gideon flicked my forehead playfully: “What? Can’t handle your hubby being naturally beautiful?” “Don’t know what’s going on in that melon of yours. You didn’t doubt when we started dating, but now that we’re meeting parents, you start suspecting. Are you looking for an excuse to break up with me?” Gideon pretended to look at me seriously, and I could only suppress my doubts. Eating distractedly, my eyes glanced at Gideon from time to time, trying to find anomalies. But found nothing in the end. Lying in bed, my mind started racing again. Looking at the sleeping Gideon beside me, a thought arose in my mind. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, how to explain height? Why does everyone see him as no more than 5’3″, while I think he’s 6’2″? I climbed out of bed lightly, afraid of waking Gideon. Walking to the entryway, I checked all of Gideon’s shoes; there were no lifts inside. Unwilling to give up, I took a tape measure from the drawer and secretly climbed onto the bed to measure his height. If 6’2″ was just his visual height, the data from the ruler would be accurate. But Gideon kept turning over while I was measuring, thwarting my attempts. Putting away the tape measure, I stared at his belly. The man in the photo had a beer belly, while Gideon had eight-pack abs. Could the abs be artificial, or something pasted on his stomach? Previously, I had seen videos of men faking abs. My hand gradually moved toward his abs. Unfortunately, just as I touched his abs, he grabbed my hand. Gideon opened his eyes with a teasing look. “Babe, feeling lonely at night and want it?” I broke out in a cold sweat instantly. Luckily, he didn’t discover me measuring his height with the tape. “N-no, I was afraid your stomach would get cold… It’s late, sleep early.” I quickly lay back down, closing my eyes to feign sleep. But Gideon flipped over and pressed on top of me, his warm lips covering mine. “Babe, the fire you started isn’t so easily extinguished.” Discovered nothing all night, but got tossed around by Gideon all night. Big loss. Early in the morning, Gideon looked at me, limp in bed, with satisfaction. “Babe, when exactly are you taking me to see your parents?” “You’re so cute, it really makes me want to lock you up and let you see no one.” Gideon’s reminder made me quickly take out my phone to check. The date agreed upon with my family to bring my boyfriend home was tomorrow. 4 I thought about how well Gideon treated me these three years—gentle, meticulous, considerate, and generous. Even if he was short and ugly, I accepted my fate. He couldn’t be poor too… And in these three years, he spent at least a million on me. It couldn’t be fake. “It’s tomorrow. Happy now?” Gideon’s eyes sparkled, and he kissed me happily. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? I don’t have time to prepare gifts for uncle and auntie.” “Yara, stop sleeping. Get up and take me to pick gifts for them.” I rolled my eyes at him grumpily. Look who wore me out last night. Gideon acted like he didn’t see, picking out his globally custom-made suit from the closet and looking at me. “Yara, can I wear this to see uncle and auntie tomorrow?” I was in a daze. In my past life, my parents looked at him wearing this with disgust, almost beating him up. But I felt Gideon in my eyes was a clothes hanger; he looked good in anything. Not to mention this suit tailored for him could show off his perfect figure. After getting ready, Gideon called to book a top luxury mall and drove his Maybach to take me there. The sales associate at the jewelry store saw Gideon and bowed respectfully to guide us. “Sir, what do you need?” “88 pounds of gold bars, and pick the most expensive gold rings and earrings for the elders.” The sales associate couldn’t hide her smile. I couldn’t help looking at him. “So expensive, isn’t it too wasteful?” “They are my future mom and dad, how can it be wasteful? Mine is my wife’s.” Gideon also picked a Patek Philippe watch for my dad and bought out LV bags for my sister. Thinking he couldn’t be poor, I took photos of the gifts he bought and sent them to my best friend. But received a questioning reply from her: “Yara, beware of pig-butchering scams! Many men who look human but act like dogs cheat huge funds through loans first, then let you bear huge debts, claiming it was all bought for you.” “These men earn high interest fees by cooperating with unscrupulous loan agencies.” I didn’t believe it and sent photos of Gideon’s luxury car and villa to her. “These can all be rented. Don’t be so silly to believe it all.” My originally joyful heart sank into dead silence instantly. The next day, I took Gideon home with a nervous heart. My family’s eyes went from shocked disdain to forced smiles. Dad took Gideon’s gifts. “Yara’s boyfriend, right? Why buy so much and waste money? Sit down and eat.” Mom dragged me aside. “So after all this time, the best friend’s boyfriend you mentioned was your boyfriend. afraid of losing face so you didn’t dare say it, huh?” My sister even covered her nose on the spot, sitting far away from Gideon as if he were a beast. The meal was finished in such awkwardness. Until I left with Gideon, I inadvertently saw the three of them making a “V” gesture together. I didn’t think much of it, but didn’t expect the group chat to explode as soon as I got home. “Yara, look at what he sent! Fake gold bars, fake watch, fake bags! Playing us like fools? Stuff worth less than a thousand bucks total! How can a person be so vain?” “Dad is putting his foot down today. If you don’t break up with him, I’ll disown you.” “Sis, you don’t know how bad he smelled at the dinner table. I almost threw up.” I sneered, snuggling in Gideon’s arms, and sent a message: “Stop pretending. I know why you all say my boyfriend is short, ugly, and poor.”

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It was the dead of night when a heavy, frantic pounding echoed from the front door. Thud. Thud. Thud. “Sarah! Open up! My dad’s having an episode! You guys have to drive us to the ER, now!” My husband, David, rubbed his sleepy eyes and instinctively moved to get out of bed. I shot up and grabbed his arm, my grip like iron. “Shh. Don’t make a sound.” In my past life, David and I had opened that door out of kindness. We drove that old man to the hospital. And because of that single act of kindness, we lost everything. Our home. Our lives. 1. David blinked, confused, his voice raspy with sleep. “Honey, what’s wrong?” “Rick’s dad is sick. They don’t have a car. We should help.” I let out a cold, silent laugh. “If it’s a real emergency, David, why aren’t they calling 911?” “Don’t turn on the lights. Don’t speak. Pretend we aren’t home.” David didn’t understand, but he trusted me. He scratched his head and settled back into the pillows. “But Sarah… if the old man doesn’t make it because we didn’t help… won’t you feel guilty?” I shook my head, hiding the pure hatred burning in my eyes. Guilty? Never again. The pounding continued for a long time. It was relentless. Then, our phones started lighting up in the dark. Call after call. Luckily, I had silenced them beforehand. David finally sensed something was off. “That’s weird,” he whispered. “Usually, if no one answers, you stop knocking. Why are they hammering on the door like that?” “His dad is supposedly dying, yet instead of calling an ambulance, they’re wasting time knocking on our door?” Exactly. It had been ten minutes. I crept to the door on my tiptoes and pressed my ear against the cold wood. “Damn it, they aren’t home. Now what?” A rough voice hissed from the hallway. I heard someone spit on the floor. “Did you find anyone else?” “No.” A deep sigh from the other side. “Just our luck. Useless neighbors. Call 911, hurry.” “We can’t let the old man expire yet. Not now.” Their footsteps faded down the hall. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and looked back at David. His eyes were wide with shock. “They… they were trying to set us up?” I nodded, my face grim. “You guessed it.” Before we fell asleep, David kept muttering. “How could they be like that? We’ve been neighbors for years.” “We used to share BBQ in the backyard. Why would they want to hurt us?” I gently covered his mouth with my hand. “Stop thinking about it. Just sleep.” 2. In the previous timeline, David and I opened the door immediately. We helped them carry the gasping old man into our backseat. Rick and his wife, Karen, sat in the back, screaming at us to drive faster. David ran two red lights. Then, at the third intersection… crash. We sideswiped another car. It was minor. Just a fender bender. No one was hurt. But that little bump was the beginning of the end. By the time we got to the hospital, the old man was gone. Rick and Karen’s faces changed instantly. They screamed in the hospital lobby, calling us criminals. They claimed our reckless driving caused the “accident” that took the old man out. They said his head hit the seat frame during the collision. And sure enough, there was a wound on the back of his head. Before we could defend ourselves, the driver of the other car jumped in. “I saw it! They sped up when they saw me! They hit me on purpose!” “You knew you had a sick passenger and you still drove like maniacs? You monsters!” There were no traffic cameras on that specific stretch of road. The man passed away in our car. We had to take the fall. We paid the settlement they demanded. We emptied our savings. But it wasn’t enough. They stood outside our office building with banners and the old man’s medical records. They claimed he was recovering. That he would have lived if not for us. They said the old man was the pillar of their family. Now their kids were too traumatized to go to school. They painted us as heartless villains. They forced us to pay for their living expenses. Their kids’ tuition. Everything. They were a black hole. When we ran out of money, they didn’t stop. One night, they spiked our drinks, stole our IDs, and took out massive loans in our names. We were drowning in debt. I will never forget the day the loan sharks came. Rick stood there, eating sunflower seeds, cheering them on. “These two are garbage!” he shouted. “Get ’em! They deserve it!” “Do society a favor!” “Hey, take it easy on the woman, though. She’s got a nice figure. You guys could have some fun with her.” “Just let me watch.” David and I didn’t make it. We were beaten until everything went black. Even after we were gone, they didn’t stop. They livestreamed lies about us, inciting strangers to desecrate our graves. But fate gave me a second chance. I woke up on the day the nightmare began. 3. The next morning, we left for work. We ran into Rick and Karen at the complex gate. Rick glared at us, his eyes full of venom. “You two sleep like the dead? We knocked for twenty minutes last night.” David smiled politely. “Sorry, Rick. Work dinner. We got in late and crashed hard. What’s up?” Karen snorted. “My dad had an episode. Needed the ER.” “You know, Sarah, because of you guys not answering, my dad almost didn’t make it.” David started to apologize, but I stepped in front of him. I looked Karen up and down with a smirk. “Karen, I’m confused. How is your dad’s health our responsibility?” Karen put her hands on her hips, her voice rising. “How? You delayed his treatment! We’re neighbors! You didn’t answer your phone! Who else should I blame?” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize being a neighbor meant I signed a 24/7 on-call paramedic contract.” “You had time to blow up my phone, but no time to dial 911?” “You!” Karen wasn’t used to me fighting back. I was usually the nice one. She pointed a finger in my face. “It’s your fault! You won’t even apologize? The audacity!” “So much for being good neighbors!” “Lucky for you my dad is still breathing, or I’d ruin you!” Rick spat on the ground near my shoes. “Fine. You want to play hardball? Don’t expect any favors from us.” I took a dramatic step back, feigning fear. “Rick, are you threatening me?” “I get scared easily. If I have a panic attack and faint right now, can you afford the lawsuit?” Rick stared at me, his face blank. He muttered one phrase. “Watch your back.” 4. Rick’s dad didn’t pass away. Remembering my past life, a terrifying theory formed in my mind. I told David. He agreed. A few days later, the dad was discharged. Karen called me immediately. Her voice was syrupy sweet, the aggression gone. “Hey Sarah! What are you up to? Got a minute?” I stayed silent. She giggled nervously. “So, Dad’s getting out of the hospital. Could you swing by and pick us up?” “You know we don’t have a car, and he can’t walk that far.” “Neighbors help neighbors, right? I’ll bake you guys some cookies.” I laughed softly into the receiver. “I don’t think I dare eat your cookies, Karen. Weren’t you going to ‘ruin me’ a few days ago?” “I’m busy. No.” I hung up before she could respond. I smiled, imagining her stomping her feet. Moments later, a notification popped up in the Community HOA Group Chat. [Karen]: Is anyone free to help bring my sick father home? Sarah won’t help us. It’s so hard being a woman taking care of an elderly parent alone… I laughed out loud. She has time to text the group, but refuses to call an Uber. She just wants to save the fifty bucks. A neighbor replied quickly. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Oh my god, that’s terrible, Karen. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Taking care of the elderly is so hard. I thought Sarah and David were nice? I can’t believe she won’t help. Brenda. The neighborhood gossip. She always disliked me for some reason. She tagged me in the chat. [Brenda – Apt 302]: @Sarah Be a decent human being. Karen always gives you veggies from her garden. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Why are you so selfish? [Brenda – Apt 302]: Everyone knows you guys have money. You have a nice car. Why not just pick them up? Other neighbors started chiming in. [Neighbor A]: To be fair, maybe Sarah is busy? [Neighbor B]: Yeah, just grab a cab. It’s easier. But Brenda rallied her troops. [Brenda – Apt 302]: A cab? For a man in a wheelchair? A private car is much more comfortable. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Where is the compassion in this building? The chat turned into a war zone. People forgot that Karen asked for help and started arguing about morals. Karen panicked. [Karen]: Please stop fighting! It’s my fault for asking. [Karen]: Is there anyone who can help? The chat went silent.

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My boyfriend, Ethan, is the top rescue team captain in Alaska. As long as it’s a mission he handles, there has never been a failure; he is the man who creates miracles in the blizzard. But while I was dying under a massive glacier, gasping for my last breath, Ethan was piloting a helicopter to “rescue” his “first love,” Lily, tossing my distress signal to an inexperienced intern. He didn’t know that Lily hadn’t encountered an avalanche at all. She had faked everything, tricking him into coming just to stage a grand, surprise confession. When Lily threw herself into Ethan’s arms and the crowd cheered for their “survival” and love, I swallowed my last breath beneath the ice. Five days later, Ethan finally climbed over that snow-capped mountain and found the victim’s body. When he saw that the person crushed under the ice and rock was me, he froze. He couldn’t believe that Chloe, the spoiled, high-maintenance heiress he knew, would actually run off to the bitter cold of Alaska to be a volunteer teacher. Ethan lunged forward like a madman, trying to grab my hand, but the ice layer suddenly cracked, and I fell into the bottomless crevasse. Ethan, you bastard. Here is your ring back. This time, I’m not going home with you. 1. A massive block of ice crushed my spine. I couldn’t crawl out. The extreme cold slowly numbed my senses. Bright red blood flowed uncontrollably, freezing into eerie patterns on the blue ice. I was so scared. I was only twenty-four; I didn’t want to die here. I’m actually not strong at all. I’m a coward who cries at everything. I’m afraid of pain, afraid of the dark, and terrified of leaving this world all alone. Dad, Mom, Ethan… please, someone come save Chloe. But wait, who is crying so sadly nearby? I remember now. It’s Leo and Mia. That brother and sister who returned to school because of my classes. Right now, they are frantically digging at the fallen rocks with their rough little hands. Their fingernails are broken, their hands covered in blood. “Ms. Chloe, don’t die! Please don’t die!” “It’s all our fault for looking for that stupid ‘treasure.’ We hurt the teacher!” A dull thud echoed from deep within the ice cave. It was going to collapse. I struggled to squeeze out a voice: “Hey, babies, don’t cry. Ms. Chloe is fine. You need to run. Go down the mountain and find adults. Listen to me.” “When you get home, make a pot of hot cocoa for me. Teacher is just a little cold.” Leo was a stubborn boy; he refused to leave. His five-year-old sister, Mia, was smart. She cried and pulled at her brother: “We are too weak! We can’t save the teacher! We have to find the rescue team uncles!” Blood had soaked my palms and wet my long blonde hair. I dared not imagine how miserable I looked right now. I was shaking uncontrollably. My vision began to blur. Ice shards fell onto my face. I knew that tons of glacial ice were about to flatten this place. Gasping for air, I used my last ounce of strength to tell Leo: “Mia is right. My boyfriend is the rescue team captain, Ethan. Have you heard of him? He is the hero of Denali. He never misses a rescue.” Leo and Mia finally saw hope: “I know! I know him! He’s a legend! We’ll go find him right now!” I definitely won’t die. As long as Ethan is there, he won’t let anything happen to me. If it’s his mission, he will never miss the golden rescue window. 2. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Ethan. I rushed forward, wanting to hug him. “Ethan, I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind!” But my hands passed straight through his body. I stood there, stunned. Before I could react, rescue team members walked back and forth, passing through my soul again and again. The cruel reality stood before me—I was no longer human. Just as I was lost and terrified, a dispatcher rushed up to Ethan with an emergency distress slip. “Captain! Villagers reported a volunteer teacher trapped in the North Slope glacier. Time of incident: yesterday noon!” The name on that slip was clearly mine. Chloe Vance, 24, Volunteer Teacher. Ethan was about to reach for it, but his vice-captain and best friend, Mark, rushed in looking panicked. “Ethan! Bad news! Lily got caught in an avalanche on the South Slope! You know she has an old leg injury; this looks bad!” Mark glanced at the distress slip in Ethan’s hand and said impatiently, “I’ll arrange for the intern to check that one out. You need to go save Lily! Don’t forget, she came here to be a medic just to follow in your footsteps!” Lily. Lily again. That woman who haunts my life. I was furious. I blocked Ethan’s path desperately, even though I knew it was futile. “If you go save Lily, I will never speak to you again!” “Ethan, do you hear me?! I am your girlfriend!” “Send someone else to save her! You have to stay and save me! That slip says it’s me!” “Bastard! If you leave today, I really won’t want you anymore!” I screamed at him over and over. Knowing he couldn’t hear me. Knowing how anxious he was the moment he heard Lily was in trouble. I watched helplessly as Ethan didn’t pause for a second. He grabbed his gear and sprinted toward the helicopter without a moment’s hesitation. A bitter despair didn’t stop me from trying. I tried to grab him, but grasped only air. I tried to block him, but he walked right through my soul. I chased after him, but the midday sun burned me, forcing me to shrink back into the shadows. Smoking and trembling, I hugged myself tightly. Chloe, what exactly are you expecting? Expecting him to hear a ghost speak? Or expecting him to grow a conscience and turn back to save the “troublesome” girlfriend he left behind? Ethan, turn around and look at that slip. That’s Chloe. Your spoiled girlfriend is crushed under a glacier, waiting to die. I was so sad. Why, even when I’m dying, do you all still put Lily first? She was just an adopted daughter my parents took in. Yet she shamelessly stole my parents, stole my lover, and stole everything that was mine. 3. Lily is the definition of a “Pick-me girl,” a pristine “White Lotus.” I’ve known Ethan since I was five. Ethan was the son of a family friend; we were childhood sweethearts for ten years. When Lily came to foster with my family, she was already sixteen. But she came from behind, using that pitiful act to steal all the attention that originally belonged to me. Dad said Lily was gentle and sensible, a true lady. And I, Chloe, was arrogant and domineering, a spoiled brat. Mom said Lily studied medicine hard and was a kind angel. And I, Chloe, was selfish and only knew how to enjoy life. Ethan was a glorious rescue hero, a perfect match for the life-saving doctor, Lily. And I was useless and had a vicious heart. I was even accused of causing Lily to end up in a wheelchair. But I never hurt anyone! A year ago, when I heard Ethan was back on leave, I happily went to find him. Lily lied and told me Ethan was in closed training in the city and told me not to disturb him. Then, she stole the VIP tickets I had bought and went to watch the Taylor Swift concert with Ethan. And I waited in the hallway of his apartment all afternoon like an idiot. I’m a bit dumb, but how could she lie to me so blatantly? I went to confront her angrily. Lily accidentally bumped into a roadside billboard and hurt her leg. But she cried and told everyone that I pushed the billboard over to crush her. Her reasoning was that since I stayed in the hallway all afternoon, I was planning this “murder.” I was the biggest scapegoat in the world. To prove my innocence, I searched frantically for evidence. But there were no cameras on that street corner, and the only witness didn’t want to get involved. Isolated and helpless, I proposed calling the police. Lily cried and grabbed everyone’s sleeves, begging them to “let me go.” Her tears fell like broken pearls as she sobbed, “Don’t blame my sister, she didn’t mean it.” She cried until my parents’ hearts broke, and they held her in their arms to comfort her. They shook their heads and sighed, looking at me with total disappointment. “Chloe, we know you’re jealous, but this is too much. We really spoiled you rotten.” In that moment, I felt my world collapse. Lying in the hospital bed, Lily, with red-rimmed eyes, questioned me: “Chloe, I always treated you like a biological sister. Just because I watched a concert with Ethan, how could you do something so cruel?” I argued back. My voice was loud, my attitude was fierce. But why should I admit to something I didn’t do? Lily clutched her head, screaming in pain: “Stop! My head hurts!” The doctor came in at just the right time: “The patient needs rest. And her leg… I’m afraid she won’t be able to do strenuous exercise for a long time.” Lily broke down crying. I couldn’t understand: “It’s just a fracture, not paralysis! You’re a med student, don’t you have any common sense? Stop crying!” Ethan, who had been silent, finally couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my wrist and shoved me hard against the wall. “Enough! Chloe, get out!” 4. Realizing that even Ethan wouldn’t stand by me. My heart died completely. I stood there, watching my parents hold Lily’s hand, promising, “Don’t worry, we will do everything to compensate you.” That day, my father cut off all my credit cards. My mother dropped the ultimatum: if I didn’t apologize to Lily, I was never allowed to step foot in the house again. And my boyfriend turned around and left for the rescue base in Alaska. For a whole year, he didn’t reply to a single message. My best friend described me as: a silly deer that only knows how to bare its teeth. Bad temper, simple brain, completely manipulated by that manipulator. I admit it. But I still came to Alaska. Not to chase Ethan back, but to prove that I could be a useful person too. I hid my identity and became a volunteer teacher in this remote village. I wanted to show them what the real Chloe was like. … The rescue vehicle sped along the highway. The team members were chatting. Mark glanced at the solemn Ethan and gossiped with the new members: “You guys didn’t know, right? Dr. Lily and the Captain are actually childhood sweethearts.” “Dr. Lily came here just to follow the Captain. It’s so touching.” “Captain, since you’re single now anyway, why not just get together with Dr. Lily?” I floated beside them and blinked. So in their eyes, Ethan has been single for a long time. Was I “broken up with” without knowing it? Chloe, you are pathetic. I could only get on the truck because the sky was overcast. But now, I regretted it. Ten minutes later, the truck stopped. The scene in front of me left me stunned.

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Everyone in New York high society knew that Preston Van Der Bilt, the patriarch of the old-money Van Der Bilt family, had a little girl he kept in the palm of his hand. That girl, Bella, was spoiled rotten, treated like the protagonist of a romance novel, cherished by everyone in his circle. Everyone, except me. On my wedding day, Bella stood there in a white gown, looking at me with pure provocation: “The one who isn’t loved is the mistress.” “So what if you marry Preston? I’m still the woman he holds in his heart!” Hearing this, the corners of my mouth lifted slightly. I turned my head and slapped Preston right across the face. “Are you a corpse? The homewrecker is at your door, and you’re playing deaf and dumb?!” 1 On the day of the wedding, Bella wore a white gown—a deliberate insult to the bride. In front of the entire bridal party, she looked me in the eye and sneered. “The one who isn’t loved is the mistress.” “So what if you marry Preston? I’m still the woman he holds in his heart.” The ceremony hadn’t started yet, but the waiting area was packed with the elite of Manhattan. Everyone looked at each other, awkward and silent, but no one dared to intervene. Why? Because everyone knew Preston Van Der Bilt had a strange, obsessive soft spot for his ward. She was the golden child, untouchable. Even though I was about to become Preston’s wife, I was just a strategic merger. A business transaction. I couldn’t compare to his “true love.” The room was dead silent. Preston walked over, surrounded by his groomsmen, his expression cold and detached. But the moment he saw Bella, his eyes melted like spring ice—soft, tender. When he turned to look at me, the frost returned. “Why are you just standing there like an idiot? The ceremony is about to start.” I let out a cold laugh and looked at Bella. “Do you dare repeat what you just said?” Bella scoffed, emboldened by Preston’s presence, and repeated her insults loud and clear. Before she could finish, I wound up my arm and slapped her across the face with everything I had. Smack! I box four times a week. My arm strength is no joke. Bella’s delicate face turned instantly red, then bruised. A trickle of blood ran down her nose, ruining her “innocent, no-makeup” look. It was almost comical. Bella stood there, stunned, clutching her face as if her brain couldn’t process what had happened. I didn’t stop. I backhanded her again. Smack! Smack! Preston’s heart? Hilarious. I beat up Preston’s heart! Just as I raised my hand again, Preston finally snapped out of his trance and caught my wrist. “Victoria! Have you lost your mind?!” “Bella is just a child! How can you hit her over a few childish words?” She’s a child, yet you flirt with her? Are you a pervert? I snatched my hand back, sneered, and turned to Preston. He frowned at me. The next second, I raised my other hand and slapped Preston across his face! I smirked at the red handprint blooming on his cheek. “You probably don’t know this, but back in the boxing gym, they call me the ‘Slap God.’” I shoved him away and pointed a manicured finger at his nose. “I’m bringing two hundred million dollars into this merger, and you’re giving me ‘Sugar Baby’ drama?” “If you’re an old creep who wants to sleep with his ward, just say it. Don’t give me this ‘father figure’ grooming nonsense.” “It’s absolutely disgusting!” I threw my bouquet right into Preston’s face. “If this mess isn’t cleaned up today, the wedding is off!” “You think I’m desperate to marry you?” “The line of men wanting to date me stretches from Fifth Avenue to Paris. You think you’re special?” “If your father hadn’t practically begged me on his knees for capital, you think you’d ever have a chance with me?” “Go to hell!” I ripped the veil off my head and stormed out of the waiting room. 2 My mother, Martha, was waiting in the dressing room. Seeing me storm in, she gave me a thumbs up. “That’s my girl. Boss moves.” I scoffed, threw myself onto the velvet sofa, and crossed my legs. I’ve been fighting in the business world for years; I’m not stupid. The Van Der Bilts letting Bella humiliate me publicly was just a compliance test. They are an old money dynasty in New York, high status, ancient bloodlines. But the reality? They missed the tech boom. Their assets are illiquid, their cash flow is dead. To survive, they needed a commercial marriage. And I, a woman with new money and “no pedigree,” was the perfect ATM. They coveted my dowry but couldn’t lower their aristocratic heads to ask for it. So, they tried to gaslight me. They wanted to use their “noble” status to suppress me, to make the “nouveau riche” girl feel inferior so I’d hand over my fortune with a smile, begging them to use it. I laughed out loud. Nice try. A dog wouldn’t fall for that trick. They made one miscalculation: I’m not a doormat. I’m a stick of dynamite. My mother raised me alone. She caught the wave of the industrial boom in the 80s, started with steel mills, pivoted to tech, and built a fortune from scratch. I followed in her footsteps, carving out my own empire abroad. Several major fashion labels you see in SoHo? Those are my subsidiaries. Business is war. Anyone who survives it isn’t someone to be trifled with. My mother and I are world-class at verbal warfare. If I didn’t need the Van Der Bilt connections to break into the domestic luxury market, I wouldn’t touch Preston with a ten-foot pole. Mom’s assistant, acting as a mole outside, texted us. Apparently, Preston’s grandmother—the Matriarch—had arrived. They were arguing. We waited. There were snacks in the room. Mom and I cracked pistachio nuts and loudly roasted Preston. “Women in this society get eaten alive if they show weakness,” Mom said. We knew there were spies outside the door, so we raised our voices. Mom, having come from the streets before she hit it big, has a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush. She cursed eighteen generations of Van Der Bilts, digging up their ancestors just to insult them again. I added fuel to the fire. We went on for thirty minutes until we heard someone outside smash a vase and leave in frustration. Mom took a sip of tea. “Weak. They couldn’t even handle that.” “If they can’t handle the heat, they shouldn’t have brought that little tramp to the wedding,” I laughed, twisting my diamond ring. “Pure masochism.” “I heard the Van Der Bilts like to be dominated,” I added loudly. “The more you curse them, the more they listen.” 3 Another thirty minutes passed. No one came. It was a standoff. They couldn’t bear to lower their “noble” heads to beg a “new money” bride. My phone pinged. It was Grandmother Eleanor Van Der Bilt. She texted, asking me to “forgive Preston for her sake” and proceed with the wedding. I laughed. For your sake? Your face isn’t worth a penny to me. Unwilling to apologize? Fine. We go nuclear. I checked the time and called Preston. He answered on speakerphone. “Preston,” I said, cutting him off before he could speak. “I’m giving you five minutes. You and your little pet get down here and apologize.” “If you don’t show up, I recall you hired a new asset manager recently?” “Don’t forget, my capital is global. I can move markets.” “If you’re late, I become your competition tonight.” “You short, I go long. You go long, I short. I have endless cash to burn. I don’t mind losing money to sink you.” “For every minute you’re late, I’ll make you lose ten million dollars. Try me.” I hung up. Three minutes later, the door burst open. Preston and Bella rushed in. I sat on the sofa, looking at my nails, as Preston walked over, reluctant and humiliated. Once he muttered an apology, I looked at Bella. Her face was a colorful mess of bruises. I gave her a fake smile. “Bella, I know you’re just a kid. I can forgive a child for running her mouth.” “It’s okay. Once I join the family, I’ll teach you some manners.” I pulled a stack of cash from my clutch. “Since Preston raises you, that makes me your stepmother.” “Call me ‘Mom,’ and I’ll give you your allowance.” Bella looked up at Preston, tears streaming down her face. Preston looked away. She gritted her teeth, eyes full of hate, and whispered, “Mother.” I laughed and threw the stack of bills directly into her face. “Good girl. Mommy likes girls who have self-respect.” “Learn from me. Stop filling your brain with men. That’s called being ‘boy-crazy.’ It’s a mental illness. Get it treated.” I stood up elegantly, brushed nonexistent dust off my dress, and hooked my arm through Preston’s. “Well? What are you waiting for, honey? Let’s go get married.” 4 The wedding was a sensation. Victoria Sterling became an instant legend in New York high society. Slapping the husband and the mistress at the altar? Iconic. The in-laws wanted to humiliate me, but I shoved their humiliation right back down their throats. On the wedding night, Preston came into the bedroom, his face dark. “Victoria, let me make this clear. You may have my body, but you will never have my heart!” I scoffed and kicked him off the bed. “Who wants your body? You look like a pale pig. It makes me nauseous just looking at you.” “Get out!” The next morning, I woke up refreshed. The first thing I did was gather the mansion’s staff. The head butler stood there, nervous. I looked him up and down and smiled. “Who pays your salary now?” “You do, Madam,” he said respectfully. I nodded. “Good. Since you know who feeds you, don’t bite the hand.” “If I catch any of you being disloyal, I’ll fire you and blacklist you. Let’s see if the Van Der Bilts will hire you back then.” The maids trembled and bowed their heads. I looked up. Preston was standing on the second-floor landing, frowning. “Come down if you want to talk,” I said, pouring tea. “I hate looking up at people.” Preston walked down, dark circles under his eyes. “Victoria, do you have to be so ruthless?” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not ruthless. It’s staff management.” “Reward and punishment. Basic business logic. You’ve been the head of the family for so long, haven’t you learned that yet?” Preston took a deep breath. “That two hundred million… when are you transferring it?” I laughed. “My dowry? Why should I give it to you?” “Did you give me a dowry? No? Then why ask for mine?” Preston clenched his fists. “The family is in a liquidity crunch. We need the investment. As for the dowry… we wronged you.” I snorted. A vague “we wronged you” in exchange for two hundred million? Keep dreaming. “You want the money? Fine.” “But every cent I invest, every transaction, goes through my auditors.” “Every business move you make requires my approval.” Preston exploded. “Victoria! Don’t go too far!” “I have never met a woman as mean as you!” Crash! I smashed my teacup on the floor. “Preston, don’t be a hypocrite.” “When your family refused to share resources or connections with me, you were silent!” “Now that the tables are turned, I’m ‘mean’?” “This is a merger. If you want resources, show me value.” “If you think you can freeload off me, you’ve got a death wish.” I stood up and towered over him. “I know you like gentle women.” “But your ‘likes’ are worth about as much as dog sh*t to me.” “Think about your commercial value, show me some sincerity, and then come talk to me.” I grabbed my Hermès bag from the butler and walked out the front door.

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My best friend started dating a billionaire. The first time we met, he handed me a Louis Vuitton bag. I was too terrified to take it, but he thought I was offended by the price. So, he pulled out a black card and slid it across the table. “Nice to meet you. Here’s a $25,000 greeting fee.” Later, my best friend wanted to break up with him because he was “too busy.” I literally tackled her, clinging to her leg. “You can’t break up! Absolutely not!” She looked at me, confused. “Aren’t you usually the queen of ‘dump him’?” “This is different!” I mean, I had just accepted a $50,000 “reconciliation fee” from the guy. I had a job to do. 1 My best friend, Chloe, got a new boyfriend. A week ago, she said she wanted to introduce us. But every single time, he bailed with a different excuse. “Too much work.” “Had to fly to London.” “Emergency board meeting.” “Surprise charity gala.” I chewed on my iced latte straw. “Chloe, look. Even if he looks like a troll, I don’t care. You gotta rip off the band-aid.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “He’s not ugly, Riley. He’s just… busy.” I scoffed. We’re all corporate slaves; how busy can one guy be? Canceling this many times with different excuses? I’ve never seen it. Unless he was hiding a second head, I couldn’t figure it out. I sighed. “Fine. At least tell me his name?” She leaned in, whispering mysteriously. “Liam Sterling.” My brain buffered for a second. “Which Liam Sterling?” “The second son of the Sterling family.” I spit my latte back into the cup. Chloe looked disgusted. “The Sterling Group? Real estate moguls turned tech and finance overlords?!” She nodded like a bobblehead. No wonder. No wonder she’s been treating me to Michelin-star dinners and sporting new designer bags every week. She stopped taking Ubers and started getting picked up by private chauffeurs! I grabbed her hand dramatically. “Sister! When you make it to the top, don’t forget the little people! When you marry into royalty, get me a job. Ideally, something that involves tasting imported snacks for six figures!” She patted her chest. “Don’t worry, bestie. If I’m eating caviar, you’re eating caviar.” Suddenly, a hush fell over the restaurant. A man in a bespoke grey suit walked in, trailed by two assistants who looked sharper than my entire resume. Every eye in the room was glued to him. Not just because he was handsome, but because he radiated “I own this building.” “He’s here!” Chloe sat up straight, frantically fixing her hair. I squinted at this legendary trust-fund baby. Six-foot-two, broad shoulders, chiseled jawline. He wore gold-rimmed glasses that gave him a vibe that was equal parts “hot librarian” and “Wall Street shark.” Okay, Chloe. I see you. “Apologies. Last-minute video conference.” His voice was deep and smooth like expensive whiskey. He sat down, gave Chloe a melting smile, then turned to me. “You must be Riley. Chloe talks about you constantly.” I was about to throw out a polite greeting when Liam made a subtle hand signal. An assistant immediately placed a pristine box with the LV logo in front of me. “A small gift for our first meeting,” Liam said casually, as if he were handing me a pack of gum. My eyes widened. My hands trembled. As a corporate drone who spends 30% of her salary on rent, 30% on takeout, and the rest on just surviving, I had never even touched a Louis Vuitton box. “This… this is too much!” I stammered, waving my hands. Liam smiled faintly. “Chloe says you’re her ride-or-die. It’s necessary.” I pinched my thigh under the table. At Chloe’s encouraging glare, I accepted the bag with trembling reverence. I peeked inside. It was the new season Capucines. Retail price? Around $7,000. I was shaking. Chloe kicked me under the table. Her eyes screamed: Be cool, Riley. Be cool! During dinner, I learned Liam was 28, a Harvard Business grad, and currently running the family’s investment arm. He didn’t talk much, but he was elegant and polite. And he treated Chloe like a queen. Halfway through, Chloe went to the restroom. As her best friend/guardian, it was my duty to grill him. But his aura was too strong. I froze. The table fell into an awkward silence. Just as I was trying to come up with a topic, Liam spoke. “Ms. Riley, Chloe says you know her better than anyone.” “Of course. We’ve been friends since high school. I know what she loves, what she hates, and her entire cycle schedule.” Liam nodded thoughtfully. Then, he reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a black bank card, and slid it across the tablecloth. “There is $25,000 on this. The PIN is Chloe’s birthday.” “W…what does this mean?” My throat went dry. “A greeting fee.” Excuse me? Is this how billionaires make friends? I was terrified to touch it. Liam pushed up his glasses. “I heard Chloe’s last few relationships ended because you advised her to break up with them.” He looked me in the eye. “I hope this time… you might change your strategy.” It clicked. This wasn’t a gift. It was a bribe! No, wait… a consulting fee! My morals and my logic fought a gladiator match in my brain. The fight lasted 0.1 seconds. Logic won. “Mr. Sterling, don’t worry!” I snatched the card. “My specialty is conflict resolution. I am strictly anti-breakup. I wouldn’t let a couple split even if the world was ending!” Liam nodded, satisfied. Just as I was pledging my allegiance, Chloe returned. “What are you guys talking about?” “Mr. Sterling was just asking what your favorite foods are. He wants to cook for you!” I lied without blinking. Chloe looked at Liam with starry eyes. “Really? You cook?” Liam didn’t even flinch. “I’m learning.” I don’t remember the rest of the conversation. My soul was inside that bank card. After they left, I sprinted to the nearest ATM. The string of zeros on the screen made me dizzy. I almost kissed the machine. Back home, rolling around in bed with my LV bag, I got a text from Chloe. [Riley, what do you think of Liam? He seemed in such a rush today, he didn’t even stay for dessert…] I immediately entered Wingwoman Mode. [Babe, a man focused on his career is so sexy! He runs a massive empire but still made time for you. That’s rare!] She replied: [But last time you said if a man loves you, he’s never too busy…] I started sweating. I checked my bank balance for courage. [This is different! Liam is clearly a high-value man who is serious about you. You need to be understanding!] Sending that text made my conscience prickle, but the $25,000 was a very effective painkiller. 2 For the next month, Chloe’s Instagram feed transformed. Private jets, yacht parties, Sotheby’s auctions… On my days off, I got to tag along for the “scraps”—afternoon tea and spa days. Bluefin tuna, French blue lobster, A5 Wagyu. Every bite cost more than my monthly rent. I wept while eating. Chloe rolled her eyes. “Have some dignity.” This girl… she doesn’t know the struggle of the hungry! But the fact that she dragged me along to share the wealth? I loved her even more. I vowed to protect this relationship with my life. Liam was busy. Insanely busy. One night, Chloe showed up at my door, crying mascara tears. “I’m breaking up with Liam!” she sobbed. I almost fell off the sofa. “What happened?!” “He doesn’t love me!” She wiped her eyes. “He’s always distracted on dates, his phone is always on silent, and he disappears at midnight…” I gulped, remembering the $50,000 “Retention Bonus” Liam wired me yesterday. I literally dove across the room and tackled her legs. “You cannot break up! No way!” Chloe was startled. “What are you doing? You always say ‘dump him’!” “This is different!” I hugged her leg tight. “Liam loves you! Truly!” “How do you know?” She looked at me suspiciously. My brain spun at 100mph. “Because… because every time he sees me, he asks for advice on gifts! He has a whole notebook dedicated to you!” Chloe’s face softened. “Really?” “I swear on my life!” I mean, if she broke up with him, who was going to take me to eat Wagyu? Under my intense persuasion, Chloe agreed to talk it out. That night, another $20,000 hit my account. I was living the dream, riding my bestie’s coattails. But good things don’t last. My side hustle was exposed. Chloe sat at my kitchen table, face dark, slapping her phone down. It showed the transaction history. “Explain.” Her voice could freeze water. My blood ran cold. She frowned. “What is this $50k for?” In a split second, I decided to come clean. I couldn’t lie to Chloe; she knew me too well. I spilled everything. The bribe, the “consulting fees,” everything. I even threw in some extra compliments about Liam’s generosity. After hearing the whole story, Chloe looked at me with pure disappointment. “Riley! You sold me out for $50k?” Uh… was that the issue? She raised her voice. “Next time, tell him to add a zero!” … Seeing she wasn’t actually mad, I exhaled. But I had to ask. “So… to prove my loyalty, should I return the money?” She waved her hand dismissively. “What’s given is yours. Keep it.” 3 The next morning, Chloe dragged me out of bed at 8 AM. “It’s Saturday, sis. Let me sleep.” She smiled like a shark. “Sleep? Liam transferred me $200,000 yesterday. We are going shopping.” I sprang up like a soldier. “Yes, Your Highness! I’m up!” Thirty minutes later, I stood in Hermès, touching a bag worth $10,000. My hands were shaking again. I used to debate adding a $1 topping to my bubble tea. Now I was debating “Elephant Grey” or “Gold”? Chloe sat on the velvet sofa, legs crossed, waving at the sales associate. “Wrap both. And throw in whatever ‘quota’ items I need to buy to qualify.” I whispered, “What’s a quota?” She grinned. “It means buying a bunch of overpriced junk just for the privilege of buying the bag.” We walked out with three bags, twelve scarves, five pairs of sandals, and a porcelain tea set. Passing Louis Vuitton, Chloe pointed at a dress in the window. “Try that on.” I pointed at myself. “Me?” The dress was $15,000. I put it on. Damn, money really does make you look better. Chloe nodded. “We’ll take it.” I grabbed her arm. “Chloe, my entire net worth is $75,000. I can’t accept this!” She side-eyed me. “You’re with me. Why would you spend your own money? What kind of best friend do you think I am?” I almost fell to my knees. “You are my only sister. My queen!” … When Liam called to check in, we were at Chanel testing lipsticks. Chloe put him on speaker. “This one, this one… actually, give me the whole row.” Silence on the other end. “…Where are you guys?” I shouted, “Helping you spend money!” Chloe added, “By the way, I saw a pink Rolls Royce that perfectly matches my manicure…” Beep. Beep. Beep. He hung up. Five minutes later, a bank notification: $300,000 received. I looked at Chloe with reverence. “Babe, is it okay to spend his money like this?” “Shh. It’s fine.” That night, at a Michelin three-star restaurant, Chloe frowned at the menu. “Truffle caviar? Foie gras? Ugh, so basic.” I wiped drool from my mouth. I was about to say I’d eat anything. She slapped the menu shut and smiled at the waiter. “Do you have instant noodles? Spicy beef flavor.” The waiter’s eye twitched. “Madam, this is a three-star establishment…” Chloe slapped her Black Amex on the table. “I’ll pay extra.” Ten minutes later, the Head Chef personally delivered a bowl of instant noodles cooked in bone broth, topped with shaved truffles and gold leaf. Price: $1,200. I slurped it. “Hmm… tastes better than the $1 cup version.” Chloe agreed and ordered another. “One more. Kimchi flavor this time!” The other diners looked at us like we were lottery winners with zero class. Their eyes said: New money trash. But then they saw the Black Card and looked away. After dinner, we walked past a trendy bubble tea shop with a line wrapped around the block. Chloe squinted, made a call. Twenty minutes later, two bodyguards in suits appeared, handing us drinks. “Try it. Supposed to be viral,” Chloe said. I took a sip. “…It’s just sugar water with cream.” Chloe nodded. “Blocked. Never buying again.” That night, Chloe dragged me to a five-star hotel. “I have an apartment, you know,” I said. “Oh, right. I bought you a condo. It’s near your office. You stay here tonight; movers are packing your stuff.” I slid to the floor and hugged her legs again. “I will serve you for the rest of my life.” She lifted my chin like a villain. “Not bad looking. You can sleep in my bed tonight.” “Yes, Your Majesty!” 4 Chloe bought me a 1,200-square-foot condo in the city center. I didn’t dare ask the price. She moved in with me, and my quality of life skyrocketed. One day, she pulled me to get dressed. “Liam’s company is hosting a charity gala tonight. The elite will be there.” I touched the gown she picked out. Six figures. “If I rip this, do I have to sell a kidney?” “Please,” she scoffed. “Tonight is your chance to snag a rich heir.” The gala was blinding. Crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, people who looked like they were photoshopped in real life. Chloe linked arms with Liam, introducing me to CEOs as “My best friend, Riley.” I stood there smiling like a mascot, wondering how I got here. Suddenly, the room shifted. A woman in a red haute couture gown walked in. “That’s Vanessa,” Chloe whispered. “Heiress to the Su Group. Liam’s ex.” I scanned her. Tall, stunning, hair perfectly waved. She radiated “Mean Girl Energy.” She spotted Chloe and her eyes narrowed. Here she comes. “Liam, long time no see.” Her voice was sweet, but her glare at Chloe was lethal. “And this is… the new flavor of the month?” Liam nodded curtly. Chloe extended a hand. “Hi.” Vanessa ignored the hand completely. “Liam, I heard about your new project. My father is very interested.” The air turned icy. Chloe’s hand hovered awkwardly. My time to shine. I waved my hand in front of Vanessa’s face. “Is Miss Su visually impaired?” She snapped her head toward me. “Excuse me?” “Oh, I just thought you were blind since you missed the hand right in front of you.” I smiled innocently. “If you aren’t blind, then you must just lack basic manners.” Vanessa stunned. She wasn’t used to people talking back. “Wow, your skin is great,” I continued before she could speak. “What do you use?” She puffed up her chest. “La Prairie Platinum Rare. A full set is about fifty thousand.” “Is it good?” I widened my eyes. “Chloe usually just uses actual caviar on her face. We haven’t tried the drugstore stuff.” Her face went from pale to red. She huffed and stormed off. I whispered to Chloe, “Weak.” Chloe sighed. “I just didn’t want to cause a scene for Liam. Otherwise, I would have ended her.” During the auction, Vanessa targeted Chloe. Chloe bid on a diamond necklace. Vanessa raised the paddle. “$50,000.” “$60,000.” “$70,000.” The price skyrocketed. I grabbed Chloe’s arm. “Do we have money? I have my savings…” Chloe winked. “Watch this.” She raised her paddle. “Two million.” The room gasped. Vanessa gritted her teeth but put her paddle down. “Sold! To Ms. Chloe!” Chloe walked up to the stage. Passing Vanessa, she smiled. “Good game.” Vanessa hissed, “Nouveau riche trash.” On the way back to our seats, Chloe tossed the necklace into my lap. “For you.” I almost dropped it. “What?! A two-million-dollar necklace? For me?!” Chloe pinched my cheek. “Yep.” I held the diamonds. This is what it feels to be a sugar baby? I’m in. After the gala, Liam got stuck talking business. Chloe and I waited for the valet. Vanessa and her minions blocked us. “Listen, Chloe,” Vanessa sneered. “Don’t think just because Liam likes you that you belong here. The Sterling family will never accept a nobody like you.” Chloe adjusted her gloves. “Vanessa, it’s the 21st century. Arranged marriages are out.” “Besides, if they won’t accept me, do you think they’d accept you?” Vanessa snapped. “I have pedigree!” Chloe laughed. “Good luck with that.” “You!” I stepped in front of Chloe. “Miss Su, your perfume is really strong. It smells like bug spray. Maybe switch brands?” In the car home, I asked, “Who is she exactly?” “Su Group’s only daughter. Spoiled. Thinks Liam belongs to her,” Chloe said, yawning. “Why did they break up?” “She was too controlling. Tried to decide what underwear he wore.” Chloe shrugged. “Plus, her family is broke. They need the Sterling money.” “So she’s desperate?” “She’s a clown.” I hesitated. “Babe… not that I doubt Liam, but… will his family actually accept us?” Chloe hugged my arm. “It’s just dating. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” I relaxed. As long as she didn’t get hurt, we could just secure the bag and leave.

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The campus heartthrob said his chest was feeling tight. I reached out and touched it. Felt pretty good to me. The next second, he froze and started screaming that I was a pervert. I rushed up and ripped his jacket open in one go. “Son of a b*tch, weren’t you the one trying to seduce me? “Talking about your chest hurting… “Some ‘innocent’ heartthrob. I bet you’ve been community property for a long time!” 1 “Don’t touch me!” Caleb shoved me away with all his might. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to cover his thin black tank top. His bony shoulders trembled like butterfly wings, and the teardrops on his eyelashes glistened under the streetlights. A few goth girls on loud motorcycles roared past. Seeing Caleb, they immediately slammed on the brakes and whistled. “Damn, Daddy! He’s fresh! “Look at that Adam’s apple! Can’t even hide it! “How much for a night? Is five hundred enough? Speak up, pretty boy!” Caleb trembled all over. I watched him with interest. The moment the girls got off their bikes, Caleb finally broke. He gripped the hem of my shirt and begged, “Help me.” I smiled. “I can help, but everything has a price.” He bit his lip, silent. I reminded him, “Make up your mind. Is it going to be just me, or four of them?” He closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. “One. I only want you…” Hearing that, I stepped forward, blocking him from view, and glared coldly at the punks. “Can’t you see I’m disciplining my man? “Even if he’s loose, he’s mine. What are you barking at?” The leader of the pack stopped smiling. “Is this really your man? “Sister, you aren’t trying to eat alone, are you? That’s not very sisterly. “If you can’t handle him, we can play together. We’ll chip in.” Caleb pinched my shirt harder. I stopped smiling, pulled out a switchblade, and twirled it in my hand. “Do you not speak human?” The girls jumped back, scared. The leader recovered and shouted in anger: “Fine, whatever! Why pull a knife? “Damn sissy behavior. Can’t fight with fists so you use a blade? You’re an embarrassment to women everywhere!” She spat on the ground and left, cursing under her breath. 2 The street returned to silence, the evening wind rustling the autumn leaves. The adrenaline sobered me up. Caleb went limp, leaning against the wall, head down, weeping. His clothes were disheveled, looking like he’d been ravaged. His chest muscles had red friction marks that rose and fell with his breathing. If he hadn’t met a gentlewoman like me, he really would have been taken right there. I tsked and threw my jacket over him. He stunned, then put it on. “You just…” “I drank too much. Don’t take it to heart.” He lowered his lashes and murmured a response. “So… we’re not doing it?” “Hmm?” He didn’t answer. I didn’t press him, just lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall. After a while. He whispered, “Actually, I can.” Caleb didn’t dare look me in the eye, but his white knuckles betrayed his nervousness. I understood immediately. It was the price for saving him. I laughed. Men are so dramatic. Just a moment ago he was acting like a martyr, now he’s throwing himself at me. Lucky for him, I wanted to play too. I raised an eyebrow. “Boy, you won’t regret this?” He nodded. I chuckled and pointed to the motel down the street. “Follow me.” His face flushed red instantly. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate. 3 I have to say, college boys hit different. Over the years, plenty of men have thrown themselves at me, but Caleb was definitely the most innocent and tender. He was thin-skinned; the slightest touch turned him pink. His youthful, tight chest muscles trembled occasionally, and his low whimpers were like the strongest wine. It was the most satisfying night I’d had in years. Afterward, I ordered him a Plan B pill via a delivery app. His face turned pale as he looked at me weakly. “Do I have to take it? “I want to keep it… can I?” I tapped the ash off my cigarette and looked at him calmly. In that moment, I knew he had fallen in love with me. Men’s love is so inexplicable. I was the one who put him in that dangerous situation to begin with, yet he only remembered that I saved him. Too bad. Too bad I’m not some knight in shining armor or a ‘good woman.’ I’m a career woman, young and free. Why would I tie myself down to a piece of grass? “You’re a good boy, Caleb. I don’t want to hold you back.” I poured a glass of water and pushed it toward him. He smiled, but it looked painful. “It’s okay. I’m not afraid of being held back.” “But you’re already secondhand goods.” I sneered, glancing down at his body. “Going to a motel with a woman so easily… aren’t you afraid of diseases? “I don’t marry boys who don’t have self-respect.” I ignored his pale face. I dug five bucks out of my pocket for his cab fare and left without looking back. 4 I thought those harsh words would make Caleb give up. But after that day, he started showing up downstairs at my dorm. My roommates were drooling at the window. “Mother of God, look at Caleb’s legs, that chest, that Adam’s apple. He’s stacked.” “Whoever sleeps with him has won at life!” “Why is the Campus Heartthrob wandering around the girls’ dorms every day? Is he looking for a hookup?” “Have you guys noticed? Caleb looks… haughtier. Like he’s been nourished. Do you think he finally lost his v-card?” I was too lazy to listen and went down to the cafeteria. Not long after I sat down, a pair of bouncy pecs pressed against my back. A boy’s bright, youthful voice rang out: “Hey, Jordan! Where have you been lately? Why haven’t you been gaming?” I looked back. It was a junior I was mentoring.

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When I was eighteen, I walked in on my sister lifting Declan’s shirt, tracing the lines of his abs. The boy stood there, shirt loose, letting her do whatever she wanted. At twenty-two, Declan listened to his family and married me instead. But everyone knew the truth. Even with a ring on my finger, he never got over the sister he loved so fiercely. Later, I asked for a divorce. He stayed silent for a long time before signing the papers. “If you ever need help, just ask.” At twenty-eight, I returned to attend Declan and my sister’s wedding. He looked darkly at the man standing beside me. “You were in such a rush to divorce me back then. Was it for him?” 1 “I heard Elena is back.” “I remember, she was the one who filed for divorce, right?” “Now that Declan is the CEO of the Sterling Group, I wonder if she regrets it.” “What’s there to regret? She stole her sister’s engagement in the first place. She just returned what didn’t belong to her.” … I had just reached the door of the private room when I heard them gossiping about me. For three years, the rumors never stopped. They said I was playing hard to get. Even my parents thought so. The day of the divorce, my mother specifically warned me: “Since you’re divorced, cut all ties. Your sister hurt her leg and she needs Declan right now. Don’t go upsetting her.” When I lowered my head in silence, she added: “This marriage belonged to your sister anyway. If she hadn’t gone abroad to study, you never would have had a chance.” My sister, Serena, and Declan were the golden couple of our elite circle. But on the eve of the wedding, Serena became a runaway bride. The merger between our families had already been announced. Facing public pressure, the elders of the Sterling family decided to swap the bride. They chose me. I don’t know how they convinced him, but Declan eventually agreed to marry me. For three years, we looked like a normal couple. But everyone knew he hadn’t moved on from Serena. He never let me into his study. Once, he forgot to close the door. I looked through the crack and felt my blood run cold. The walls were covered in photos of him and Serena. I had never seen that look on Declan’s face. Vibrant, doting, focused. His heart and eyes were full of her. That was when the thought of divorce took root. The day I finally decided to end it, I overheard him on the phone. His voice was gentle, coaxing the person on the other end: “Yeah, don’t be scared. I’ll be there in ten minutes… You can’t walk on that leg. Wait for me. Be good.” When he turned around, he saw me. I spoke calmly. “Dinner is ready. Eat before you go.” He paused briefly, then continued walking toward the door. “You eat. Don’t wait for me.” Just as he reached the entryway, I called out to him one last time. He looked impatient. “What is it?” “Declan,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 By the time the news reached my parents, we had already signed the papers. Declan didn’t cheat me; he gave me half his assets. My parents summoned me home overnight. They interrogated me like a criminal, asking why I was so cruel as to take half of Declan’s money. “Elena, is this how I raised you? Did you only marry him for the money?” Serena stood nearby, leaning on a crutch, wiping away tears. “Elena, do you blame me? Do you blame me for stealing Declan the moment I came back…” Her sentence was cut short by my parents. “Declan was supposed to be your husband. If you hadn’t been so willful and run away, your children would be in preschool by now.” Serena loved Declan, but she loved ballet more. Shortly after accepting Declan’s proposal, she received an offer from a prestigious dance company in Europe. She abandoned Declan without hesitation. For three years, she barely contacted him. Until that night, when Declan received an international call. He was resting his head on my shoulder, catching his breath after intimacy. He answered the phone right in front of me. Because we were so close, I clearly heard a woman’s sobbing voice on the other end. Declan froze. One second… five seconds… ten seconds… It took thirty seconds for him to react. He grabbed a robe and stormed out. Declan didn’t come back that night. The next day, I learned from my parents that Serena had an accident while dancing and broke her leg. Declan personally flew her back. Although she lived with my parents, Declan handled everything concerning her. My parents even tried to brainwash me about it. “Don’t take it to heart. Your sister can’t dance anymore. She’s devastated, and only Declan can comfort her.” My parents had always favored Serena. She was beautiful, smart, and talented. I was just the bookworm. Boring. Unskilled at charming people. Everyone revolved around the injured Serena. Including my husband. He lost patience with me. One evening, he promised to pick me up, but left me waiting in the rain for two hours. I got sick with a high fever. Declan was forced to leave Serena to visit me in the hospital. My mother saw this as a manipulative tactic. She screamed at me hysterically: “Because you called Declan away, your sister tried to kill herself last night!” “You’re healthy! Why do you have to compete with a disabled person?” I looked at her in disbelief. “But Declan is my husband…” “So what? This marriage belonged to her. You stole her husband!” But years ago, she was the one who begged me to marry him. Before Serena left the country, she cornered me, trying to convince me to take her place. “Elena, I know you like him. This is a good opportunity, isn’t it?” “We can’t let the assets go to an outsider. You don’t want Declan with some random woman, do you?” I kept my head down, silent. Serena got anxious. “Are you going to watch our family go bankrupt?” “I’m begging you, Elena. Or are you worried I’ll come back and fight you for him?” My expression shifted. She sighed in relief. “Don’t worry. Once I leave, I won’t contact him again. I swear!” She kept that promise for three years. But in the end, she forgot her vow. 3 After getting the divorce decree, I moved south, cutting contact with my family for three years. Recently, they reached out to tell me Declan and Serena were getting married. Serena made the call. “Elena, please come to my wedding. If you’re there, I won’t feel like I owe you anything.” I was silent for a long time. “Okay.” The day I arrived home, the weather was beautiful. As soon as I walked in with my suitcase, Serena flew out of her room. “Elena!” Her steps were light. In the chill of late autumn, she wore only a thin nightgown. Behind her, Declan chased after her holding slippers and a jacket. “Why can’t you remember to wear shoes? Next time, I’m going to…” His voice stopped abruptly. He saw me. It was the first time we’d seen each other since the divorce. Out of politeness, I should have said hello. I turned and gave him a faint nod. Three years hadn’t changed him much. He just looked less cold, more tender. He nodded back, then looked away, draping the jacket over Serena. “You two talk. I have work to handle.” Serena walked up to me, linking her arm through mine affectionately. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come. We’re trying on dresses tomorrow. Come with me?” I pulled my arm away, expressionless. “I’m busy tomorrow.” Serena pouted. “Is it important?” “Yes. Very.” She thought for a moment. “Then let’s change it to the day after. Come back early tomorrow after you’re done…” “I’m not staying here,” I interrupted. “Tell Mom and Dad I’m busy these few days and won’t be sleeping at the house.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without looking back. I hadn’t gone far when a car pulled up slowly beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Declan’s handsome face. “Get in. I’ll drive you.” I refused distantly. “No thanks.” He was stubborn. When I didn’t get in, he drove alongside me at walking speed. “It’s hard to get a cab here. Get in.” Looking at the endless road ahead, I compromised. Once inside, I gave him an address. He frowned. “Why aren’t you staying at the Bayside Condo?” “I don’t like it.” That was the property I got in the divorce settlement. He didn’t know I had already sold it. Declan’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t ask further. When we arrived, I got out, and so did he. He grabbed my luggage, refusing to hand it over. “Let’s go.” “I can take it up myself.” I tried to grab the handle, but he wouldn’t let go. He looked around the neighborhood. It was several tiers below the luxury he was used to. “Financial trouble?” “No.” He ignored me and dragged the suitcase toward the entrance. “Which building? Which floor?” Declan is a stubborn man; no one can change his mind once he decides something. I didn’t argue. I walked silently in front. We took the elevator up. Standing at my door, I took the suitcase. “Thanks. It’s not a good time, so I won’t invite you in.” “Wait.” I turned back. “Have you… been happy these past years?” Looking at his sincere gaze, I felt a moment of disorientation. I couldn’t remember him ever speaking to me in that tone. Just as I was about to speak, the door opened from the inside. A tall, handsome man appeared before us without warning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, radiating charisma. He stretched out a long arm and pulled me into his embrace. “What took you so long, hm?” He leaned in to kiss me. Just as his lips brushed mine, Declan’s angry voice rang out behind me. “What are you doing?!” But the man didn’t stop. He deepened the kiss, taking his time before wrapping his arm around me and looking lazily at Declan. He spoke to me, though. “I’ve only been gone a little while, and you already found a replacement? You really keep me on my toes.” I nudged him, but he didn’t budge. I looked at Declan. “We’ll talk another time.” Declan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. It was the prelude to his rage. But before he could explode, I was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. The man cornered me against the wall, his presence dangerous. “If I remember correctly, your flight landed at 11:00. It’s 2:00 PM. Three hours, and you’ve already met up with your ex-husband?” I poked his firm waist lightly. “Jax…” He caught my hand immediately. His voice was low. “Don’t try to distract me.” I gripped the hem of his shirt, lowering my eyes. His large hand lifted my chin. The moment our eyes met, Jax laughed in disbelief. “I haven’t even started punishing you yet. Why are you crying?” I sniffled. “I missed you so much…” 4 After the divorce, I moved south to a small coastal town and opened a boutique inn. The town was warm in winter and cool in summer, the locals simple and welcoming. My mood improved significantly. Within a year, my inn gained a good reputation, and business picked up. Jax was the most reclusive guest I’d ever had. He spent most of his time in his room. He only appeared on the terrace when no one else was around. At first, I worried he might do something drastic, so I kept an eye on him. Until one day, I was sunbathing in the courtyard, and he walked up to me, smiling faintly. “Do I really look suicidal to you?” I looked up in surprise. He lay down on the lounge chair next to me, relaxed and lazy. “I heard your phone call.” I was instantly embarrassed. The night before, I had told a friend, “That guy is really handsome. It’d be a pity if he offed himself.” I didn’t realize he had heard. Breaking the awkwardness, Jax asked, “You don’t look like a local. Why open an inn here?” I made something up. “Too much money, too much free time.” A low laugh escaped his throat. It was a beautiful sound. I couldn’t help but look at him. It was a pleasant view—a man resting his head on his arms, looking at the horizon. His jawline was sharp, his profile sculpted. Declan was handsome, but Jax was on another level. Sensing my gaze, he turned. We locked eyes. I don’t remember who looked away first, but from that day on, the atmosphere between us shifted. We crossed the line on a day we went hiking. On the way down, the weather turned, and we got caught in a downpour. We returned to the inn soaked. That night, I developed a high fever. I tried to get up for medicine and shattered a glass. Jax kicked the door open. Maybe it was a hallucination from the fever, but I saw terror on his face when he burst in. And obvious relief when he saw I was just sick. I was bedridden for five days, and Jax took care of me for five days. He moved his instruments into my room, and I learned he was a singer. “Are you ready to leave at any moment?” I asked, holding a cup of hot water. He countered, “Do you want me to leave?” I stayed silent. He took the cup from my hand and suddenly kissed me. His burning breath scorched my senses. I clutched his shirt, my heart pounding out of my chest. After that, Jax became the unofficial master of the inn. Changing bulbs, fixing chairs—he did it all. Guests would tease him: “You’re so domestic. The pretty boss lady should marry you.” Whenever that happened, he’d ask me: “When are you going to make an honest man out of me?” I always laughed it off. He acted like he didn’t care, but in private, he would punish me for it, refusing to go easy on me no matter how much I begged. I thought days like that would last forever. But then, Jax vanished. I asked the locals. They said: “Where else could he go? With a face like that, and being in that industry… probably ran off with a sugar mama.”

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My hot new roommate has OCD and depression. The first time I saw him, he was downing a bottle of sleeping pills like they were candy. I understood: “You were really hungry, huh?” But then he saw my messy room and couldn’t sleep all night. The next day, he asked me, “Ms. Davis, can I clean your room?” The second time, I went home to grab a file and ran into him with blood seeping from his wrist. That afternoon, with pale lips, he showed up at my office building. “Ms. Davis, your shirt collar is tucked in.” The third time, he left in the middle of the night. I ignored it. But he knocked on my door anyway. “Ms. Davis, you buttoned your pajamas wrong.” I brushed my hair back. “Mr. Sullivan, actually, my bra is only half-clasped. Can you unhook it for me?” 1 I was scammed by a shady landlord. One apartment, two leases. I grabbed the landlord by the collar right then and there. “I said I wouldn’t live with a man!” The landlord was self-righteous. “Come on, Ms. Davis. This location, this rent, you’re lucky to have a roommate at all. Why don’t you just ask me to buy the White House for two grand while you’re at it?” The next second. The door opened. A man, tall with long legs and a flawless face, stepped out. Except for his sickly pale skin, he was almost perfect. He ignored us. And left. I swallowed hard. Smoothed out the landlord’s shirt. And smiled: “Having a roommate is great. It’ll be lively.” 2 That night. My Bluetooth headphones accidentally connected to my roommate’s device. Strange sobbing sounds came through the headphones, and what seemed like crying. Damn. He plays hard? A girl’s voice was intermittent. I didn’t expect it. The hot roommate next door had this side to him. This crappy apartment was a one-bedroom split into two, and the soundproofing was terrible. I could even hear him walking around and faint crying. But I have to go to work tomorrow! This corporate slave couldn’t take it anymore. I marched over to open his door with messy hair. I didn’t intend to open it, just wanted to jiggle the doorknob a few times to show him who was boss. But the door suddenly opened. The hot guy turned around. His eyes were innocent and wet, and his gray silk pajamas perfectly outlined his perfect figure. Eye candy. Except for the mouthful of sleeping pills he had stuffed in his mouth. Everything was perfect. The scary thing was, even with a bottle of sleeping pills stuffed in his mouth, I thought he looked like a hamster storing food. Damn cute! I commented, “You must be really hungry.” His beautiful eyes dropped gently, like a puppy caught in the rain. I suddenly felt a little awkward. “Are… are you trying to kill yourself?” His gaze fell to the room behind me, then turned back to me. He nodded gently. Well. Dying is more important than an 8 AM meeting. I expressed my understanding considerately. “If you die, will this apartment become a haunted house?” He nodded. He thought about it, then spat out the pills. Took out a bank card. Handed it to me. “This is all my savings, fifty thousand dollars. Take it and rent another place. Consider it my financial compensation.” But I couldn’t hear what he was saying at all! I just felt his long fingers, his fingertips still faintly pink. I heard that means he’s good in bed. No wonder he was watching that kind of movie right before he died. I looked at the tablet playing the video. A chilling scream suddenly came through the headphones. It wasn’t that kind of movie, but a movie about a murder scene, which just happened to be a crime of passion. Does this also require ambiance? “Ms. Davis, can you hear me?” “Huh?” I snapped back to reality. The hot guy repeated himself. I smiled and waved my hand. “No need. I mean, if it’s a haunted house, my rent can be lowered.” Then I could have the fifty-square-meter apartment all to myself. If the hot guy’s resentment didn’t dissipate, maybe I could have a hot ghost roommate. It would be heaven! I smiled and turned around. “Then take your time dying. I’ll wear earplugs, so don’t worry about waking me up.” 3 The next day. I yawned and opened the door. As soon as I stepped out of the room, I was startled by the hot guy sitting on the floor hugging his knees next to me. I fell to the ground. Level with him. He slowly turned his head. “Mr. Sullivan!” Scaring people can kill them! “Sorry, Ms. Davis.” He apologized sincerely. I thought he would have walked to the “I miss you in hell” sign by now. “Is there something you need? Mr. Sullivan.” “Just call me Ash.” I extended my hand: “Nora Davis.” Ash shook my hand, but I only felt rubber. I looked down. Ash was wearing waterproof rubber gloves, and there were buckets, mops, rags, and other cleaning tools next to him. Before I could even question it, Ash asked me directly: “Ms. Davis, can I help you clean your room?” “Huh?” “Otherwise, I don’t have the heart to die.” So he also has OCD. But if he wanted to help, of course I generously agreed. “Sure, sure, then you can help me tidy up, thanks!” 4 Evening. I dragged my exhausted body back home. The tidiness of the room almost made me think I was in the wrong place. But when I saw Ash curled up on the floor, exhausted. I was relieved. The bed was too tidy, I was embarrassed to sleep in it. So I lay down on the floor facing Ash. When I saw him in the morning, he had stubble on his chin and faint dark circles under his eyes. Obviously hadn’t slept well. Now he had shaved his beard and the dark circles were gone. He looked extra handsome. I revised several versions of the plan today. I was too tired. After a few seconds, my eyelids felt heavy. When I woke up, Ash was looking at me. His puppy-dog eyes were so expressive. I blushed involuntarily. I bit my lip shyly: “Don’t…” Ash interrupted me quietly: “Ms. Davis, your dark circles are so asymmetrical. Can you sleep symmetrically? Otherwise, it’s uncomfortable for me to look at. Sorry to trouble you.” … Revising plans every day, staying up late. Corporate slave standard 996, the smell of work on me is about to overflow! Do I also have to worry about whether my dark circles are symmetrical?! I instantly got angry. “How can I sleep symmetrically! One eye on guard duty, one eye on lookout at night?!” In the end. Ash was kicked out by me. I placed an order for eye cream overnight.

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On a reality TV show, I accidentally smashed a priceless antique vase belonging to Sebastian Vance, the elusive heir to the Vance business empire. Rumor has it, this vase was the only gift left to him by his “tragic first love” who passed away young. The billionaire cherished it, allegedly polishing it every night before bed, valuing it more than his own life. Now that I’ve destroyed it, everyone says I’m finished. Sebastian Vance will bury me. I stood there, face full of confusion. What the hell? Wasn’t that vase just a defective piece of junk I made in pottery class years ago and tossed at him? And more importantly— Damn it, Sebastian. Since when am I dead?! 1. Two years into my acting career, I finally hit the big time. I was trending #1 on every social media platform. The bad news? I was trending because I shattered Sebastian Vance’s favorite vase. I was being “hate-followed” by the entire country. The internet was roasting me alive. @GossipGirl_X: “No way. Does she not know? That vase is Sebastian’s holy grail. It was a gift from his late soulmate. He takes that thing everywhere, even on private jets.” @VanceFanClub: “A maid once misplaced that vase along with a million-dollar emerald necklace. Sebastian didn’t care about the necklace, but he almost fired the whole staff over the vase! Chloe Hart is DOOMED.” @RealityTea: “Chloe Hart is toast. Career over. Cancelled.” @JustHereForDrama: “She deserves it. The producers warned her that the mansion belonged to the Vance family. She’s so clumsy and disrespectful.” There was no sympathy. Even my rival, Tiffany Stone, jumped on the bandwagon. She posted a picture of a broken ceramic shard with the caption: “Such a beautiful piece of art. What a tragedy. I hope its owner isn’t too heartbroken. 😢” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. If she hadn’t stuck her foot out and tripped me, I wouldn’t have fallen. I wouldn’t have touched that vase. She caused this mess, and now she’s acting like a saint. My agent, Sarah, was practically crying. “Chloe, what do we do? You’ve offended the Vance family. You’re actually going to be blacklisted.” Sebastian was currently overseas on business, so he hadn’t reacted yet. But domestic brands were already dropping me. Several contracts I was about to sign pulled a U-turn and went straight to Tiffany Stone, who has the same “sweetheart” image I was trying to build. Sarah was grinding her teeth. “We’re in the same agency! I can’t believe she used such a dirty trick to sabotage you. And the executives know she did it, but they’re protecting her. It’s disgusting.” “So… what now?” Sarah looked at me, mentally calculating if she could book me a few C-list gigs before I was banned from Hollywood forever. I looked at her, calm as a cucumber. I patted her shoulder. “Relax. It’s just a busted vase. Who cares?” Sarah’s eyes bulged out of her head. “Chloe! Have you lost your mind? That’s a priceless artifact! Selling you into indentured servitude wouldn’t cover the cost!” Priceless? I almost laughed. That “artifact” was a reject from when I first started learning pottery. The base was rough, the lines were uneven, and the firing was patchy. I gave it to Sebastian years ago because I didn’t want to throw it away. After we got married, I entered the entertainment industry and was constantly traveling. I hadn’t seen the thing in years. I was surprised to see it on the shelf during filming. I just wanted to get a closer look at my amateur work when Tiffany tripped me. Now the whole world was waiting for my execution. But they were going to be disappointed. Sebastian wouldn’t do a thing. I am his legally wedded wife. Half the Vance fortune is technically mine. And the vase? I made it. But… deceased soulmate? I’m just busy with work, not dead! That toxic man and his rumors. “Sarah, I made that thing. I know what it’s worth. If it was actually priceless, would I be grinding in Hollywood right now?” “It broke. Big deal. I have a dozen more in my studio. I’ll replace it.” Sarah stared at me for a full minute before whispering, “She’s cracked.” She thought the stress had broken my brain. So, she immediately signed me up for whatever reality show would take me, trying to cash out before the end. The only show desperate enough to take the “Vase Breaker” was a live-streamed dating show called Love Unscripted. It was a huge production sponsored by a massive conglomerate. Three men, four women. One girl ends up alone. Given my reputation, that girl was definitely going to be me. I signed the contract. Then, on the flight to the location, I saw the sponsor list. The Vance Group. And rumors were swirling that the “Mystery Guest” was none other than the CEO himself. The internet thought he was coming to sue me live on air. They were half right. He wasn’t coming to sue me. He was coming to catch me. I had lied to him. I told him I wasn’t going on a dating show. If he caught me pretending to be single on national TV… I was panicked. 2. In the makeup room, I was too stressed to notice Tiffany Stone walk in. She was also on the show. A newbie actress next to her whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Some people have no shame. She smashed Mr. Vance’s vase and still dares to show her face? Is she waiting for a lawsuit?” With no cameras around, Tiffany dropped the act. She rolled her eyes. “She’s desperate. Probably hoping to hook up with a rich guy to pay off her debt. Disgusting.” “I heard Mr. Vance might be the mystery guest,” the newbie said. “Maybe she thinks she has a chance with him. Ha! As if.” Tiffany smirked. “In her dreams.” She walked past me, deliberately bumping my shoulder. The livestream began. The rules were brutal. After the intros, the audience voted. The most popular girl got first pick of the men. The men had no right to refuse. The chat was exploding with rumors about Sebastian Vance being Guest #4. I was dead last in the polls. Tiffany was #1. She looked smugly at me. The male options: Brad, the Film King (Secretly dating the Film Queen, who was also on the show). Justin, the current “It Boy” (A scumbag who tried to hit on me and then paid bots to hate on me when I rejected him). Noah, the Campus Heartthrob (A rookie). Tiffany bypassed all of them. She wrote down Justin’s name. I was confused. Wasn’t she gunning for Sebastian? The Film Queen picked the Film King. The Rookie Girl picked Noah. That left me with the Mystery Guest #4. The supposed “Prince of Wall Street.” I was trembling. I pointed my finger at the curtain for Guest #4. I could already imagine Sebastian’s cold, mocking face when the curtain dropped. The music swelled. The curtain rose. And… Empty space. The studio erupted in laughter. The host announced: “Unfortunately, our Mystery Guest had a scheduling conflict and withdrew from the show!” I opened my eyes. No Sebastian. The comments section was brutal. “LMAO her sugar daddy dreams are crushed.” “Sebastian is literally in the same city for business, and he cancelled? He probably heard she was here and bailed. Embarrassing.” “She really thought she could match with a billionaire after breaking his stuff?” Off-camera, Tiffany sneered at me. “Idiot. You actually thought he’d come? You aren’t even fit to breathe the same air as him.” She knew. She picked Justin because she knew Sebastian wasn’t showing up. She set me up to be the clown. 3. The couples went off on romantic dates. I was left alone at the villa. The producers, wanting to squeeze some labor out of me, sent me to the market to buy groceries for dinner. I didn’t mind. I used to cook for my master’s entire pottery studio back in the day. While I was picking vegetables, I felt a tug on my shirt. I looked down. A little boy with chubby cheeks and big, teary eyes was looking up at me. He looked lost. His eyes lit up when he saw me. He launched himself at my legs. “Au—” He was about to yell “Auntie!” I slammed my hand over his mouth. “Shh! Call me Chloe!” It was Leo. Sebastian’s nephew. “What are you doing here?” I whispered. It turned out the resort we were filming at was owned by the Vance Group. Sebastian was here for work, and he brought Leo. Leo had escaped his nannies. So Sebastian was here. Minutes away. I shivered. Leo refused to tell me where the bodyguards were, so I had to drag him back to the filming villa. Leo’s parents died young. Sebastian and I raised him. He was basically my son. Back at the villa, Leo followed me around the kitchen like a duckling, helping me wash vegetables. “Chloe, can I help?” “Chloe, you’re the best cook!” His sweet voice melted my heart. When Tiffany returned from her date and saw him, her face twisted. “Whose brat is this? Running around the kitchen? No manners.” She saw me. “Oh, Chloe brought him? Makes sense. Trash attracts trash.” My face went cold. “Tiffany, watch your mouth. You can’t afford to offend this child.” This was the heir to the Vance Empire. Tiffany laughed. “Can’t afford it? Please. Is this your illegitimate son with some random sugar daddy?” She looked Leo up and down with disgust. “No wonder you got resources so fast. You were busy birthing kids for old men. You act innocent, but—” I covered Leo’s ears. “Tiffany Stone, shut up!” “Making dirty jokes about a child? You are vile. If you say one more word in front of him…” I walked over, grabbed a handful of her hair extensions, and yanked. “I will snatch you bald.” Tiffany screamed. 4. The producers decided Leo was ratings gold and made him a “Special Guest.” I knew the little traitor had texted Sebastian for permission. So, my romantic dating show turned into a babysitting show. The comments were mocking me relentlessly. “Chloe is on ‘Mommy duty’ because no man wants her.” “Is that actually her secret kid?” Until the next activity: A Pottery Workshop. We were visiting the studio of Master Elias Thorne, a living legend in the ceramic world. There was a specific artifact on display: The Phantom Teapot. A paper-thin porcelain masterpiece. While the cameras were rolling, there was a crash. The teapot lay in pieces on the floor. Leo was standing over it, crying, clutching his elbow. The comments exploded. “OMG THAT BRAT BROKE THE MASTERPIECE!” “Chloe is useless! Can’t even watch a kid!” “Like mother like son. Destruction runs in their veins.” The producers were panicking. This teapot was worth a fortune. I hugged Leo, checking his arm. He was sobbing in pain. Tiffany stood nearby, crossing her arms. “Some people never learn. Like I said, no manners. You broke Mr. Vance’s vase, and now your wild child broke Master Thorne’s teapot.” “Trying to dump this on the production team? You’re finished, Chloe.” I was furious. I saw it. Tiffany had stuck her foot out and tripped Leo when the cameras were panning away. “It wasn’t an accident,” I yelled. “You tripped him! And that teapot isn’t as priceless as you think. We need to take Leo to the hospital!” The room gasped. Tiffany looked delighted. “Wow. The audacity. You’re disrespecting Master Thorne’s work? That was a unique piece destined for a museum! How are you going to pay for it?” The comments were chanting: CHLOE PAY UP! CHLOE GET OUT! I looked at the hate-filled screen. “Fine. You want me to pay? I’ll pay right now.” I rolled up my sleeves. I grabbed a lump of raw clay. My hands moved from muscle memory. I centered the clay on the wheel. Within minutes, a perfect, paper-thin form rose from the spinning disc. I grabbed a sculpting tool and carved the intricate “phantom” lattice pattern into the wet clay with surgical precision. I dipped it in glaze and set it for the rapid-fire kiln. The room was dead silent. Tiffany scoffed. “Are you insane? You think your play-doh garbage can replace a Master’s work? You are insulting the art form!” Justin chimed in. “Yeah, stop embarrassed yourself. It’s pathetic.”

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