On the day Ethan Vance got engaged, he specifically hired a few thugs to harass me, ensuring I’d be stuck at the police station giving statements until well after dark. When I finally got back, I overheard someone asking where I had been. Ethan laughed, “I was afraid she’d make a scene, so I sent her to the precinct to cool off for a day. By the time she gets back, the dust will have settled.” I stood outside the door, smiling bitterly and shaking my head. I blocked all of Ethan’s contacts, turned around, and boarded a plane out of the country. That night, I heard Ethan went crazy when he couldn’t find me. The usually even-tempered man had bloodshot eyes, muttering, “She’s just jealous. She’s doing this to spite me. Once she cools down, she’ll come back. She has to.” But he didn’t know, I wasn’t running away out of spite. I really didn’t want him anymore. 1. By the time I finished giving my statement at the police station, it was already dark. On the day of Ethan’s engagement, I was flustered and got into a fender bender while turning a corner. The other driver was difficult, dragging things out until now. Ethan’s phone went straight to voicemail. His social media was flooded with photos of him and his fiancée. Picture after picture stung my eyes. I was furious. The suppressed grievances and anger of the day needed an outlet, so I took a taxi straight to his house. The door was ajar, and loud voices drifted out. Ethan sometimes brought friends home to drink or watch a game. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I stopped when I heard them talking about me. “Honestly, we all thought you’d end up with Harper. You two grew up together, childhood sweethearts. She’s beautiful, sure, but her temper is really something else,” Liam sighed. “She’s spoiled. She’s been making a fuss for years, doesn’t she ever get tired?” Ethan sank into the sofa, checking his watch, his handsome brow furrowed with annoyance. Calculating the time, she should be here soon. Guarantee she’ll come crying and screaming. Just thinking about it gave him a headache. “It’s weird. You got engaged to Chloe, and Harper didn’t flip the sky upside down? Haven’t seen her all day. Where did she go?” Liam asked. Ethan chuckled, “I was afraid she’d make a scene, so I let her drink tea at the police station for a day. By the time she gets back, the dust will have settled.” “Brilliant move. Only our Ethan can handle Harper,” Josh praised endlessly. “Ethan, have you ever thought about it? You getting engaged to Chloe might really break Harper’s heart. What if she leaves for good?” Liam asked. Ethan pictured her tear-streaked face in his mind, feeling a sudden irritability. Then he scoffed coldly, acting indifferent, “I wish she would.” I wish she would. Seven years of my devotion exchanged for this sentence. I withdrew my hand and turned to leave. It was early winter. The weather hadn’t truly turned cold yet. But I was chilled to the bone, from the inside out. After all these years of circling around Ethan, arguing and fighting, I was the only one left by his side. I thought we would make it to the end. But to get engaged to someone else, he schemed to put me in a police station. How cheap must I be to let him trample on me again and again? It started to rain. The forecast said the temperature would drop at midnight, possibly snow. Snow in Seattle tends to last forever once it starts. I used to be most afraid of winter. Ethan would wrap me in his open coat, and there was always a blanket in his car for me. Looking back now, those moments I thought were happiness ultimately couldn’t sustain us to the finish line. The rain got heavier, wet hair sticking to my forehead. My steps were actually staggering. I shook my head, smiling bitterly. How did life become this mess? Suddenly, the fighting spirit I used to have was gone. Those arguments about love or no love felt like a joke. Tightening the damp coat around me, a thought took root in my mind. I want to go somewhere warm. Where there is no winter, no snow. And definitely no Ethan Vance. 2. I blocked all of Ethan’s contacts, including his friends’. A strange number texted me. It was Chloe, Ethan’s fiancée. [Ethan is already engaged to me. You don’t know how much he spoils me. You better leave sensibly and save yourself some face.] [Ethan hated you the most before. Every time he saw you, he’d give me a gift as compensation. I have what you have, and I have what you don’t.] [Don’t bother him again, or I’ll tell everyone about you seducing my fiancé.] Chloe, the little assistant by Ethan’s side who always made mistakes. Slender and fragile, her eyes would turn red if you spoke a little harshly, like a kitten. Did Ethan know she was this arrogant? She tripped me up explicitly and implicitly many times. Spilled wine on my couture gown, deliberately broke my diamond necklace. At those times, I felt she was a scheming “pick-me” girl, but Ethan’s heart ached for her. If my tone was slightly harsh, Ethan would jump out to protect her. Pity my clothes and jewelry. I made a scene, but Ethan would only say lightly, “You have so many of those things. She’s just a girl fresh out of college, what does she know? Don’t make it hard for Chloe on purpose.” Even if I have a lot, they are mine. If someone breaks them, they have to pay. I entrusted this matter to a lawyer, asking him to get every penny back from Chloe. Then I pulled out my SIM card and threw it in the trash. Scum man and cheap woman, I wish you two locked together forever. My parents came downstairs, seeing me packing, eyes full of worry. “Harper, do you want to reconsider? That kid from the Vance family is really too much. We’ll go to the Vances right now for an explanation!” My thing with Ethan was tacitly approved by both families. Similar backgrounds, grew up together, nothing seemed more suitable than this relationship where we knew each other’s roots. “Mom, Dad, if you still want to save me some face, don’t go. Isn’t it good for me to go abroad and help brother with the business? You always wanted me to get some experience.” They were surprised I said this. After all, I was too love-struck before, chasing Ethan everywhere since high school. “Is this out of spite?” Mom asked carefully. I hugged them tightly, tone firm, “I caused too much worry before, but not anymore.” My parents had high hopes for me, just like for my brother. It was me who was ignorant, willful and stubborn, mistaking Ethan for my whole world. “Good, good. Our Sutton family children are ambitious. If you’ve made up your mind, go do it. If you make a mess, Dad will cover for you.” I agreed, voice choking. Turning to board the plane abroad, everything in Seattle, for me, has turned the page. 3. That night, Ethan waited. Waiting for Harper, or her call. He thought, if she called again, he would be kind enough to answer. Even if she cried and made a scene, he would tolerate it. But, nothing came. This feeling was like a kite with a broken string, making one panic. “Ethan, I really can’t hold on anymore, I have to sleep first.” Josh couldn’t keep his eyes open. Drinking with him all night, the more it went on, the more distracted Ethan seemed. Chloe called, gently asking about his well-being. “Ethan, not asleep yet? I miss you so much, want to come see you.” Ethan held his glass, rejecting, “Josh and the guys are drinking with me. This is my last bachelor night party. Be good, listen, go to sleep first!” Chloe acted coquettish for a while before hanging up resentfully. Josh leaned over to Liam, whispering, “What’s up with Ethan? First time I heard someone having a bachelor party after getting engaged.” Liam swirled the wine in his glass, sighing long and hard. “What bachelor party? He’s waiting for someone! Can’t you see it’s that obvious?” According to the past, with Harper’s temper, she would have stormed over long ago. Not showing up now, something was wrong. “Should I call Harper and ask where she is?” Liam asked. Ethan got up and went to the window, not refusing, “Suit yourself.” Liam called the police station first, they said Harper left when it got dark. Harper’s phone couldn’t get through at all. Ethan called, only to find he was blocked. Liam and Josh too. “Ethan, looks like Harper is really angry this time,” Josh said. “Harper isn’t the type to settle down. Is she playing for real this time? You put her in the precinct and got engaged to someone else. It’s a bit much,” Liam had wanted to say it all night, and finally said it. Liam and the others helped call Harper’s friends, but no one had news of her. The usually good-tempered Ethan rarely went crazy, kicking over the coffee table, smashing wine bottles, glass shards all over the floor. He never thought Harper would leave. She was like a little tail, following him, pestering him. They had been together for so many years, both families had long acquiesced. As for Chloe, the more Harper bullied her, the more he wanted to protect her. Protecting to the end, he couldn’t tell what kind of feeling it was anymore. His eyes bloodshot, he murmured, “She must be jealous. Deliberately spiting me. She’ll come back when she cools down. Must be.” In the past, before Chloe, she also argued and made scenes. Just needed to coax her patiently, and she would forgive, treating him better than before. But he didn’t know, Harper wasn’t running away out of spite. She really didn’t want him anymore. 4. After a long journey, sitting on the plane all night. After landing, the person picking me up wasn’t my brother, but his best friend, Lucas King. Heard they grew up together, thick as thieves. There were rumors that his relationship with my brother was ambiguous, even secretly crushing on my brother. But I kept an eye out and smiled politely at him. “Long time no see, Lucas.” He was tall and handsome, jeans and T-shirt look casual and free. The hearty smile on his face was as warm as the climate here. “Your brother went out of town to negotiate business last minute, asked me to pick you up.” He reached out to take my suitcase, patted it: “Want to sit on it?” “I’m not a kid anymore.” Lucas is five years older than me. Before, when he often came to play at our house, he liked to pull me around the room on a suitcase. He whistled, threw the luggage into the car, and took me to his place. The weather here averaged 70°F, quite comfortable. His flashy red convertible sports car had music blasting. Looking at the scenery outside the window, the warm wind blew away a body of fatigue, and the frost brought from Seattle. I like this place. “Your brother’s house is being renovated recently. You’ll have to suffer at my place for a few days. Room is ready, second one on the right upstairs, opposite mine.” The room location was great, with a huge floor-to-ceiling window, just the decoration was hard to describe. Pink everywhere. Totally a straight guy’s aesthetic. I was exhausted, tidied up a bit and lay down to catch up on sleep. In my dream, I went back to the day I first saw Ethan in high school. He leaned against the windowsill, wearing headphones reading a book. The wind blew the trees outside, his bangs, and the corner of his snow-white shirt. Totally a movie scene. Playing Truth or Dare, seeing who dared to confess first. I went without thinking. “Ethan Vance, I like you.” He looked up at me, a mocking smile appearing on his lips: “Harper Sutton, are you a pig?” I woke up instantly. Even in the dream, I was dying of embarrassment. I was really brave back then. I remember on the day of the confession, Ethan only smiled mockingly and didn’t speak. Lucas’s voice came from outside the door. “Harper, are you a pig? You slept for a day and a night. Even a pig would lose to you. Get up and eat!” Lucas cooked the meal, and it was quite standard. He was famous before. Not satisfied with the food in a restaurant, he opened one himself. Liked drumming, started a band. Liked stones, went into deep mountains, ended up being rescued by a helicopter. Halfway through university, suddenly took a break to race cars. Such rebellious deeds were countless. In the end, his family couldn’t stand watching anymore and kicked him abroad to experience life. Knowing my brother was here, he moved his branch company here. At that time, my parents and I were terrified, afraid the only son of the Sutton family would be ruined in his hands. I actually envied him quite a bit. A person like him shouldn’t have any regrets, right? “Lucas, what have you been busy with these years?” I was curious. “Doing business.” He didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Wait, why did you come here?” “To do business with my brother.” We seemed to be discussing a very dry topic. He frowned and thought for a moment, saying seriously: “While your brother is away, you follow me first!”

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At 28, after a failed marriage, I decided to find a partner just to have a child. My requirements were simple: someone tall, with good eyesight, and decent communication skills. On the day of the blind date, the man wore a black hoodie and a baseball cap. His exquisitely handsome face far exceeded my expectations. Thinking something was off, I was already secretly planning to reject him. Then he spoke, his voice calm and low: “The person I like went abroad. My family is pressuring me to have a kid.” “I’m a local, only child, have a house and a car, stable job, and my parents have their own pensions.” “If you can accept it, I can hand over part of my salary for household expenses, and I’ll cover all the child’s costs.” “If you want to separate later, I’m okay with that anytime.” In this marriage, the thing I cared about least was who was in his heart. My goal was to have a child. So, within a month, we had a flash marriage. At that time, I never imagined I would spend the next ten years, and then another ten, with the man in front of me. Chapter 1 On the day we got our marriage license, I finally learned the man’s name was Ethan Reed. He was a programmer. He worked at the biggest gaming company in Seattle. The main reason for the delay was that right after the blind date, I had to go on a last-minute business trip and didn’t have time to deal with him. He didn’t contact me either. I assumed it was over. I had already started looking for the next candidate. Then, on Saturday evening, he suddenly messaged me on WhatsApp. Asking if I had thought about it. It had been 23 days since our blind date. Turns out he was still waiting for my answer… Before I could reply, he sent another message. [If you don’t dislike me, should we just get married first?] I hesitated. Mrs. Robinson from the matchmaking service just happened to message me. [Sarah, I just contacted a few of the guys you met before. They aren’t very accepting of the fact that you’re divorced, and…] And I’m 28, no house or car in Seattle, and an orphan. For anyone marrying me, they’d face significant financial pressure. With no parents to help out. I understood what Mrs. Robinson wanted to say. I typed back: [Thanks, Mrs. Robinson.] After nearly six months of blind dates, almost no one had expressed willingness to take things further. If I had to count, there were two. One thought my looks matched his imagination, but after going home that day, his parents found out about my situation and disapproved, so that ended. The other was Ethan. The person he liked went abroad, maybe they separated for some reason and couldn’t be together. He was pressured by his family to marry and have kids, and was willing to accept that I was divorced, an orphan, and had no assets. I looked at Ethan’s black profile picture, thought for a moment, and replied. [Do your parents know about my situation?] Ethan: [Yes!] Me: [Okay… when do you want to get the license?] Ethan: [If it’s convenient, next Monday at 9 AM. See you at the City Clerk’s office near your place.] Next Monday was the day after tomorrow… Me: [Okay.] On Monday, Ethan and I met at the City Clerk’s office, each holding a folder of documents. We greeted each other politely, then went to take a number. After we got the license and walked out. I realized belatedly that we hadn’t done a pre-marital health check. Ethan had no experience with marriage, and my previous one was a love match, so we hadn’t done it either. But this time, since it was a blind date arrangement, we didn’t know each other well. Hearing me mention it, he looked down at his watch. “I took the day off today. If you have time, we can go now.” I nodded slightly: “Sure, I took the day off too.” After deciding, we went to the hospital separately for the checkup. I rode my e-scooter; Ethan drove. After the checkup, we were told the results would take 1-3 days. Walking to the hospital entrance, we handed each other a key simultaneously. We both froze. Ethan spoke first, his voice steady: “I bought a three-bedroom apartment downtown. This is the key.” Downtown Seattle is the most bustling area, and where my company is located. Everything is great, except the price. Buying is expensive; renting is expensive. So back then, I rented a place on the edge of the city and took the subway to work every day. Ethan’s financial situation was probably even better than I expected. Even with a mortgage, the down payment would be hundreds of thousands. I took back my key: “I’m renting a small two-bedroom near downtown.” “Before the results come out, let’s go back to our own homes.” Ethan said “okay,” then handed his key to me again. “Take my key first.” He paused, his gaze landing on my bag: “Your key…” I instantly understood and handed him my house key. Chapter 2 Back home, I took a shower and sat on the balcony to rest. I saw the college alumni group chat buzzing with hundreds of messages. The class monitor suddenly tagged me. [Sarah, Julian is coming back from abroad soon. How are you guys planning to celebrate? Can we all get together?] Seeing that name, my heart skipped a beat. Others took turns tagging me. [Yeah, after you two celebrate, you have to treat us to dinner!] [Back then, you were the only couple in our class to make it.] [So envious, after all these years!] [I was the one who helped Sarah deliver the love letter! Haha.] [Given Julian’s personality back then, if Sarah hadn’t stubbornly chased him for a year, it would’ve been hard for them.] [Come on, that’s ancient history. Look at how Julian treated Sarah later, like she was more important than his life.] [That’s called mutual devotion, okay!! Finally, their long-distance relationship is ending.] Seeing I hadn’t replied, someone tagged Julian. Before I could even react. I saw that familiar profile picture pop up. Julian: [We divorced a long time ago!] “A long time” meant 823 days. Over two years. Once Julian spoke, everyone else fell silent. The lively group chat instantly went quiet. Ten minutes later. Julian: [Been abroad too long, really miss the food in Seattle. I’ll treat everyone when I’m back!] I closed the app, looked up, and stared silently at the ceiling. Maybe the wind on the balcony was too strong. It made my eyes sting. I got up, closed the window, and decided to sleep early. The next morning, I saw Ethan posted about getting the marriage license on his Moments. I posted when I got married the first time, but not when I divorced. At first, I couldn’t accept the divorce. In denial, I let my emotions spiral for six months. Later, I felt there was no need to post. He was in the past. Bringing it up again would just be weird. I didn’t expect my classmates to still remember us. After all, life and work pressures are huge; I thought no one would remember the past anymore. Before getting off work, I received Ethan’s health check report. I sent mine over too. Everything was normal. Good thing we were both healthy; it saved us worry. Ethan: [I have to go on a business trip unexpectedly for half a month. I’ll bring you a gift when I’m back.] Me: [Okay, no need, thanks!] Ethan’s business trip relieved my anxiety. We had a flash marriage, and there were many things we hadn’t discussed clearly. Like having a child, whether he moved to my place or I moved to his. And preparations for pregnancy. Suddenly switching from strangers to “partners” made me a little flustered. With him away on a trip, it was good for both of us to have a buffer. Next came busy work and overtime. I work in planning, so staying up late is common. When I do well, the pay is decent. Over these years, I lived frugally, didn’t buy a house or car, and saved a considerable amount in fixed deposits. It was my safety net. Originally intended for retirement. Later, when I wanted a child, I earmarked part of it for an education fund. After being busy for half a month, I went to a massage parlor. It was already past midnight when I got home. I saw Ethan’s car parked downstairs. His car looked expensive and new, a stark contrast to my dilapidated apartment complex. My place had no property management, no greenery. It was a very old complex where most owners had moved out, leaving mostly tenants. As I got closer, I saw Ethan reclined in the driver’s seat, fast asleep. I tapped lightly on the glass. Ethan’s sleeping profile looked a bit cold, his thin lips pressed tight under a high nose bridge. A small blanket was draped casually over him. In contrast, he looked exceptionally tall and long-limbed. I coughed and called out, “Ethan.” His long eyelashes fluttered. I lowered my head toward the slightly open window. “Ethan, wake…” In an instant, my gaze fell into Ethan’s just-opened eyes. His eyes were narrow and long, framed by thick lashes; up close, they were very deep. Ethan reacted and casually moved the small blanket aside: “Sorry, I was too sleepy.” When he got out of the car, I saw he had a backpack and an exquisite jewelry box. My building was a walk-up. Ethan’s height made the stairwell seem much narrower. We reached the third floor. After closing the door, I realized the intimate clothes I took down this morning were still on the sofa. A 500-square-foot one-bedroom apartment; the living room was visible at a glance. Ethan glanced over, his expression unchanging. I was a bit flustered, clumsily getting slippers for Ethan. Slippers, towels, toothbrushes—I had prepared these after we got the license. Then I quickly tidied up the clothes on the sofa. I poured Ethan a glass of water. He said his business trip ended a week earlier than expected, but his cousin, who was taking exams, was temporarily staying at his place. So he came over unexpectedly. Afraid I was busy, he didn’t text. I pursed my lips and smiled: “I was a bit tired recently, so I went for a massage.” “Next time, just come up. This is the master bedroom, the other is a study, bathroom, balcony.” I got up and gave Ethan a tour. The layout of the small apartment was obvious. Ethan took a sip of water: “Okay, sorry to intrude this week.” “You’re welcome.” Chapter 3 I finished showering and came out. Ethan went in. He closed the door. I looked back at the queen-size bed in the bedroom (approx 1.5m wide) and griped the doorknob. I quickly changed the sheets and duvet cover, and put a pillowcase on another pillow. Then I took a tape measure and started measuring the master bedroom. When Ethan came out, he was wearing white loungewear. With his striking features, the look was quite impactful. His hair was still dripping water, and he wiped it casually with his long fingers. Seeing me gesturing, he walked over and asked, “Need help?” I retracted the tape measure: “No need, I’m just seeing if a king-size bed (1.8m) will fit.” Ethan’s hand wiping his hair paused slightly. He assessed the space I measured, his tone deepening a bit. “Should be fine. The walkway will be a bit narrow, but it won’t block the path.” I hummed lightly: “Okay, I’ll go look at beds after work tomorrow.” “I’ll go with you. I’m off for the next two days.” I turned to put away the tape measure but found the hallway blocked by Ethan. Only when we were both standing in slippers did I realize he wasn’t just tall-looking; he was genuinely tall. Probably around 6’2″. My head just barely passed his shoulder. Because we were close, I could almost smell the specific body wash on him. I stepped back: “I’ll get you the hair dryer.” After putting away the tape measure, Ethan quickly finished drying his hair. He stood at the bathroom door, looking at me with a slightly unnatural expression. I was divorced; I knew about these things. Ethan was twenty-seven this year, a year younger than me. I didn’t know his dating history. Also wasn’t sure if he had experience. But guessing he probably did. Except my small bed was somewhat unfriendly for someone of his size. I lowered my head and said hesitantly. “We’re both tired tonight. Shall we just make do for one night?” Ethan twitched his lips slightly: “I’m fine with anything, as long as it doesn’t affect you.” We queued up to enter the master bedroom. Ethan closed the door. We lay down, man on the left, woman on the right. The small bed meant we were close. Ethan’s body was warm, a sharp contrast to my coldness. It was early autumn, and the south has no central heating. Usually, the bed stays cold for a while. Tonight, the quilt warmed up instantly. In the silence, Ethan slowly held my hand. His palm was large. He turned over, naturally pulling my hand over. He whispered: “You’re very cold…” I whispered back: “Used to it. It’s like this all year round.” Ethan moved closer, and my legs touched his. The room fell quiet. Quiet enough to hear each other breathing. We both knew the other wasn’t asleep. Thinking I should get to know him more, I asked casually. “Ethan, can I ask why you broke up?” I didn’t understand why I brought this up at this moment. Maybe thinking if Ethan truly loved someone else, and that girl came back, I… I guess I’m really traumatized. Forced to divorce because of a past relationship, now I was inexplicably worrying about Ethan’s ex’s feelings. Ethan fell silent, his breathing speeding up. I quickly said: “If it’s inconvenient, don’t worry about it. I was just asking.” Ethan turned onto his back, switched hands to hold mine, stared straight at the ceiling, his voice low and raspy with a hint of bitterness. “I didn’t break up.” I looked sideways: “Wh… what?” “That girl didn’t like me. Or rather, she never noticed me.” My feelings became complicated instantly. With Ethan’s looks, not noticing him must have been hard. I asked: “Did you confess?” Ethan spoke slowly: “No. She had someone she really liked. Later, they got together.” So it was unrequited love! I didn’t know how to comfort him, so I kept my tone light: “Did you meet anyone else after that?” Ethan’s tone was flat: “No.” No! I was slightly shocked. Meaning 27-year-old Ethan was still holding onto his first love? The problem was, I was on my second marriage! I stared tightly at Ethan, wanting to withdraw my hand. But he held it tighter. Ethan’s lips moved slightly: “Sarah, I need to tell you something.” “I married you partly because your eyes look a bit like hers. Sorry…” So Ethan was treating me as a substitute? I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. My guilt lessened. In this marriage with clear goals, the scariest thing was meeting someone too sincere. It didn’t matter who was in his heart. Being a substitute didn’t matter either. I moved closer. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” “Ethan, I had a relationship before. My ex-husband.” “We were college sweethearts, married at 23, divorced at 26.” “But we had no kids, no financial entanglements. We haven’t contacted each other since the split.” Ethan gave a very light ‘mn’, asking in a voice devoid of emotion: “Why did you separate?” “Did he cheat?” “No, no cheating, no third party.” “Then why?” I paused: “His mother didn’t like me.” Ethan was silent for a while, his tone turning serious: “Just because of that?” I hummed: “Just because of that.” No dramatic plot, not because we stopped loving each other. Just because his mother didn’t like me. She even threatened suicide to force him to divorce. But I didn’t explain this thoroughly to Ethan. Deep down, I didn’t want to recall it. That painful memory—if possible, I hoped never to think of it again. My phone dinged. I turned and saw a tag in the class group chat. Just as I was about to open it. Ethan hugged me from behind. I hesitated, didn’t open the message, silenced the phone, and hugged Ethan back. His embrace went from shallow to deep. His face pressed close to mine; his thin lips landed on my forehead, eyes, and finally stopped at the corner of my mouth. Very light. I could feel his breathing quicken. At this age, with no experience, saying he was full of vigor wasn’t an exaggeration. We were adults; I knew clearly what would happen. But Ethan lingered. His body was burning hot, lips rubbing against the corner of my mouth, not going further. I asked softly: “Ethan, can we?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple rolled. He said raspily: “Yes.” He turned on the bedside lamp with one hand, flipped over on top of me, staring at me with burning eyes. Finally, his gaze rested on my eyes. His kisses fell again, going from gentle to passionate. The moment he touched my lips, Ethan’s restrained movements began to lose control. The 1.5-meter small bed, due to quality issues, creaked all night no matter how much we tried to be careful. Chapter 4 I didn’t know when I passed out. When I woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the window. Ethan was sleeping soundly. He was indeed exhausted after a full night. Thinking of last night, my face burned. It was okay in the dark. Seeing Ethan’s lean, powerful waist exposed in broad daylight made me feel warm all over. I touched my face to cool down. Suddenly realizing today was a workday. I picked up my phone—it was already afternoon… Hurriedly opened WhatsApp. Various tags in the work group. A while later, my supervisor, Mrs. Zhou, popped up saying I called in sick and she was covering for me today. Then came Mrs. Zhou’s DMs. [Sarah, where are you??] [Where?] [Little Sarah! What happened?] [Did you work too hard recently and collapsed?] [Tell me if something’s wrong! Why aren’t you picking up the phone?] … [Good thing your husband answered the phone, said you weren’t feeling well.] [Don’t push yourself next time. You scared me to death. Rest well.] [But… when did you get a husband!!!] [Tell me when you wake up!] I was amused by Mrs. Zhou. [Thanks, Mrs. Zhou. Just got the license recently. Details tomorrow.] Mrs. Zhou was one of my few friends in Seattle. I have a reserved personality, slow to warm up, few friends. College classmates barely kept in touch after graduation. Mrs. Zhou mentored me during my internship here. After knowing I was an orphan, she took special care of me. Knowing I divorced, she even took me out to drink and vent. She was ten years older than me but looked very young. We often joked we were friends across generations. After replying to Mrs. Zhou, I saw the tag in the class group chat from last night. It was the college group. I thought after Julian announced our divorce, no one would tag me again. If I hadn’t been with him, I might have been invisible in the class. Clicked into the group, scrolled to the top. Saw last night’s message. It was Julian tagging me, unprecedentedly. [Sarah, I’m back in Seattle. Convenience to grab dinner together?] My gaze paused. I even thought I misread it; my fingertips trembled. That long-lost suffocating and sour feeling rushed over me. I exited the chat immediately, staring numbly at the phone. Feeling heat on my waist, Ethan turned over and hugged me. I composed myself and put down the phone. Ethan sat up. His beautiful eyes were startlingly bright. He evidently slept well. “Good afternoon!” I squeezed out a smile for him: “Good afternoon.” After getting up, Ethan took me out to eat, then we went to buy a bed together. After last night, our relationship was slightly closer. We weren’t so stiff when walking, but we didn’t hold hands either. Bought a bed at the mall. Spent $1,200. Ethan paid without blinking. Usually, I would have bargained or checked two more stores. Ethan bought the bed; I insisted on paying for the mattress. When buying the bedding set, I just took out my phone when Ethan held my shoulder and leaned down. “Sarah, I’m your husband. The betrothal gifts, the gold jewelry—I should be paying for these.” I looked at Ethan blankly for a moment. Betrothal gifts, jewelry. Honestly, before the blind date, I hadn’t thought about it. My conditions were like this. He was unmarried, better than me in every aspect. And I was aiming to have a child. I didn’t want him to spend extra money. That way, if we separated, it would be simpler and quicker. “No need for betrothal gifts and jewelry…” Ethan interrupted softly: “Necessary. Formal marriage procedures shouldn’t be skipped.” “Next, we need to take wedding photos, hold a wedding, go on a honeymoon.” “I’ve prepared for all these expenses.” Wedding! I wasn’t clear on what formal procedures entailed. My previous marriage was just a rushed license. The wedding was never scheduled because he was busy. Seeing me zone out, Ethan pulled me to pay, then went to a jewelry store. He picked some very expensive styles. He called it the “five gold pieces” tradition, but the price exceeded my understanding. When we got home, workers came to change the bed. I received a transfer of $58,888 from Ethan for the betrothal gift. I knew Ethan’s salary must be decent. I didn’t expect him to give so much. I thought $10,000 or $15,000 at most would be enough. Seeing my complicated gaze, Ethan finished changing the bedding and came over, lips slightly raised: “Normal wedding procedure.” I pursed my lips. Then I’ll save this money, untouched. If we separate in the future, it’ll be easy to return. Seeing me nod, Ethan scanned the kitchen: “I’ll cook tonight. What do you want to eat?” “Anything works.” “Then braised pork, beef brisket stew, garlic eggplant, meatball soup…”

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When I was a trust fund baby, I kept Silas as my plaything. I forced him into submission every day, finding new ways to humiliate him. If he refused, I threatened to cut off his grandmother’s hospital funding. Later, my family went bankrupt. Unable to bear the cold shoulders of fair-weather friends, I left town without a word. Years later, I became a line cook. In the private dining room of a five-star hotel, I ran into the now-infamous CEO, Silas Vance. That night, mimicking my old demeanor, Silas threatened me with my job and tapped my cheek with a black card. “Come on. Start kissing from here and go down.” “Don’t stop until I’m satisfied.” 01 “Caleb, get over here.” The manager appeared in the kitchen, calling my name. I put down the ladle, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and walked toward the door. “Manager Sutton, what’s wrong?” Sutton looked me up and down. “The ravioli for the Golden Suite tonight… you made it?” I paused for a second, then nodded. “Did it not suit the guest’s taste?” In an instant, my heart jumped to my throat. Before the shift started, Sutton had warned us repeatedly that the guests in the Golden Suite tonight were VIPs. One of them had a notoriously difficult palate. Not only difficult, but peculiar. No matter where he ate, no matter how high-end the restaurant, he always ordered a bowl of handmade ravioli. If he liked it, the bonus was substantial. If he didn’t, jobs were on the line. Because of this, when Sutton ordered the ravioli to be made, the entire kitchen staff went silent. No one wanted to put a target on their back. At that moment, I—the one everyone least expected—stepped up. The reason was simple. I needed to pay next quarter’s rent. And there was my sister’s kidney dialysis fees. Five hundred dollars a session, twelve times a month. That amount was a fortune to the current me. So, while everyone else held back, I bit the bullet and volunteered. Worst case scenario, it couldn’t get much worse than my current life. But I wasn’t going in blind. I had been a picky eater since childhood. Before the bankruptcy, I turned my nose up at delicacies from land and sea. Only the ravioli made by that person had ever captivated me. So much so that when I found out my dad went bankrupt, my first thought was to find him. To ask him to teach me how to make them. I had no choice. He had spoiled my palate. I was afraid that in the future, I’d be so pathetic I couldn’t even eat a decent meal. Over the years, I had perfected that recipe. But seeing Sutton’s furrowed brow, I broke out in a cold sweat. Was there someone in this world pickier than I used to be? A few colleagues who despised me started sneering from the sidelines. “See that? That’s what happens when you overestimate yourself. The pros didn’t dare take the job, but this halfway-decent cook wanted the spotlight. Hah, served him right.” “I’ve hated his high-and-mighty act for ages. Good riddance.” “Yeah, look at him, skinny as a rail, looks like a girl. I’m surprised he can even lift a wok! Hahahaha…” Amidst the laughter, my anxiety spiked. “Enough. Shut it,” Sutton coughed lightly and looked at me. “Caleb, Mr. Vance asked for you by name.” 02 I looked up at Sutton, stunned. “Why does he want to see me?” “To fire you in person, obviously!” “Hilarious. A hillbilly trying to show off culinary skills to a billionaire. You really dropped a rock on your own foot this time.” The colleague laughed with schadenfreude. Sutton didn’t deny it, only saying, “Follow me.” “You’ll know when you get there.” On the way to the Golden Suite, Sutton only said one thing. He said Mr. Vance’s expression after eating the ravioli wasn’t good, and I should pray for myself. That sentence kept me on edge the whole way. Until I followed Sutton into the private room. The moment the door opened, I saw Silas Vance sitting at the head of the table. It was sudden. I hadn’t seen him in seven years. Silas was flanked by two young men. One wore a white dress shirt, unbuttoned down to his chest. The other wore a sheer knit top, his silhouette visible underneath. The boy in the white shirt was lighting a cigarette for Silas. He bent slightly, the silk ribbon around his neck swaying gently in front of Silas’s eyes. The one in the sheer top was kneeling by Silas’s feet, holding a wine glass with his mouth. His voice was muffled and suggestive. “Mr. Vance, this is for you.” This scene wasn’t unfamiliar to me. Back when my father was the richest man in the city, this was my daily life. Except back then, the one lighting my cigarettes and kneeling before me was Silas. The Silas who was cold and aloof in public, but fulfilled all my twisted quirks in private. But now, everything had changed. I was grateful I was wearing a mask. Combined with the tall chef’s hat, two-thirds of my face was hidden. Only my eyes were exposed. These eyes no longer held the playful arrogance of the past. Only exhaustion and weariness remained. So when Silas looked up at me, I wasn’t overly nervous. Seven years had passed. He surely wouldn’t recognize me. Or rather, he had likely erased me from his memory. Sutton stood in front of me, bowing respectfully to Silas. “Mr. Vance, this is the chef who made the ravioli, Caleb.” Oh, right. After leaving New York, I changed my name. First and last. Silas looked past Sutton, his gaze landing on me across the dining table. His eyes were indifferent, revealing no emotion. But his voice suppressed a strange undertone. “Where is Chef Caleb from?” Silas took the lighter from the shirt-boy’s hand, tapping it rhythmically against the table. Click. Click. I watched his movement. That was a habit of mine. I used to do that when I was annoyed or nervous. How should I put it? Since entering the room, I felt Silas was acting like someone. Like the old me. I answered him in a local Philadelphia accent. “Born and raised in Philly.” “Oh? Has Chef Caleb ever been to New York?” Silas stared at me with probing eyes. The old Silas was a puppet I manipulated at will. I never thought there would come a day when I would feel panic before someone I once controlled. I tried to keep my voice calm. “Never.” 03 Thud. The sound of the lighter hitting the table stopped abruptly. Silas stood up. With a single glance, the two men beside him retreated. He stood there, staring fixedly at me across the table. That razor-sharp gaze seemed to want to slice through my mask and lay me bare. My hands clenched unconsciously. Just as Silas was about to speak again, Sutton stepped in to smooth things over. “Mr. Vance, Caleb really is a local.” “Since we’ve known him, he’s been working at the hotel. He hasn’t been to New York.” “Is the ravioli not to your taste? How about this, I’ll have a chef from New York make an authentic bowl for you, does that work?” Others in the room started chiming in. “Look at Mr. Vance’s aura, you’ve scared the little chef.” “It’s just a bowl of pasta, have someone make another one.” “Manager Sutton, take him away. If he can’t even make ravioli, don’t let him stay and ruin your reputation.” Sutton looked at me with pity. He sighed. “Go.” I turned to leave the room, following Sutton. Regret filled my heart. I shouldn’t have gambled on this. I walked dejectedly, frantically thinking of how to beg Sutton for a second chance. Suddenly, Silas’s deep voice rang out from behind. “Cole.” My body froze violently. Cole. That was my name before. 04 I was fired anyway. Sutton said his hands were tied. The current Silas sat at the top of the food chain. Offending him was suicide. I didn’t want to make things hard for Sutton. After taking this month’s salary, I left through the hotel’s back door. Behind the hotel was a long, dark alley. To prevent guests from smelling the grease and smoke on us, the owner mandated all staff leave through the back. But I didn’t expect Silas to find such a desolate alley. I had just stepped out, barely taking two steps, when someone called out. “Chef Caleb.” Silas’s voice was raspy. Accompanying his voice was the crisp sound of a lighter flicking on. In the dim alley, a flame flickered. When I turned, the fire lit up. Silas leaned against the wall, a cigarette between his lips. The rising smoke obscured his eyes. I couldn’t see his expression clearly. But I knew he was looking at me. I turned my back to him, reaching into my pocket for a fresh mask. Spending years dodging debt collectors, I always carried a mask to avoid being recognized by old acquaintances. My hand in my pocket was suddenly pinned down. A warm palm slid into my pocket, caressing down from the back of my hand until his fingers interlaced with mine. Just like that, my hand, still in my pocket, was tightly clasped by Silas from behind. Locked in his palm. In the past, I was the one pinning Silas to the bed. Silas never resisted. Today, for the first time, I clearly realized how strong Silas actually was. If he wanted to resist, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Just like now, he yanked my hand out without a shred of gentleness. A forceful spin. I couldn’t even stand steady, stumbling back a few steps. Just as I was about to hit the wall, Silas reached out and caught my waist. He pinned me against the brick, his hand gripping my jaw like a vice, forcing my head up. “Chef Caleb seems quite indifferent about this job.” Silas spat out the cigarette, his tone playful. “But I heard your manager say you needed this job desperately?” I knew Silas had recognized me. Perhaps he wanted revenge. After all, I used money to humiliate him back then. I used his grandmother to threaten him. I forced a perfectly straight man into something else, making him serve me night after night. In the dark, neither of us could see the other’s expression clearly. I looked up, resigning myself to fate. “Yes, this job is very important to me.” “If possible, please, Mr. Vance, raise your hand high and let me go.” If I could turn back time, I would slap the old Cole across the face. Friends used to warn me to build up good karma, not to play with fire. Because no one knows what the future holds. What if the tables turned? What did I say back then? I was pinning Silas down, biting him, laughing with arrogant nonchalance. “Let them turn. I don’t believe they can turn enough to kill me.” Prophetic words. Who would have thought the young Master Cole, who spent money like water, would now be desperate for a line cook job? Begging the man he once toyed with in a low voice. Silas lowered his head slightly, his hot breath against my ear. “Is Chef Caleb begging me?” I nodded. “Yes, begging you. Please don’t let the owner fire me.” A low chuckle sounded in my ear. The hand gripping my jaw loosened slightly, sliding down my neck, landing on my throat. Then tightened abruptly. I was instantly choked, breathless. The instinct to survive made me grab Silas’s hand, hitting it hard. But Silas wouldn’t let go. Just as I felt I was about to pass out, Silas suddenly released me. I slid down the wall as he let go. Sitting on the ground, clutching my neck, gasping for air. The man’s low, raspy voice came from above. “Cole, if you’re going to beg, look like you’re begging.” “Do you need me to help you remember how you made me beg you back then?”

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My boyfriend was getting intimate with my best friend right above me. I was hiding under the bed, secretly recording everything. Suddenly, her moans turned into bloodcurdling screams. The bed shook violently, and blood cascaded onto the floor like a waterfall. Then, my best friend’s severed head rolled off the mattress, her wide, dead eyes staring straight at me. 01 My soul nearly left my body. “What is happening? Did my boyfriend just kill someone?” I had only come here today to catch a cheater. I never expected to stumble into a murder scene. Above me, my boyfriend, Ethan, was chuckling darkly. The wet, sickening sound of a blade piercing flesh was clear and rhythmic. I clamped my hand over my mouth, forcing myself to stay silent as tears streamed down my face. “Why? Why is he doing this?” A few minutes later, Ethan’s movements stopped. As if exhausted from the exertion, he lay back on the blood-soaked bed and lit a cigarette. Just then, my phone buzzed with a WeChat notification. My heart slammed against my ribs. I desperately covered the phone. But he heard the vibration. “Hmm?” He made a questioning sound. The mattress creaked. He was lifting the covers, looking for the source of the noise. I almost sobbed out loud, fumbling frantically to switch my phone to silent mode. The second I hit the mute switch, Ethan called me. Buzz… Buzz… The silent call screen lit up the darkness under the bed. He let it ring for a full minute. When I didn’t answer, he hung up and sent a voice message. “Babe, are you asleep? I have to work late tonight, so I won’t be coming home.” After sending it, I saw his feet slide into slippers and hit the floor. The floor was covered in Sarah’s blood. Ethan walked through it, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. He seemed to be searching for something in the room. Suddenly, he coughed violently twice. I jolted, so tense I forgot to breathe. Sarah’s bloody head was right in front of me, staring. Her severed neck was still oozing, her face frozen in a mask of shock and terror. Ethan walked around the room naked but didn’t seem to find anything. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver, and returned to the bed. His large feet were inches from my face. Then, he began to dismantle the body. Chop after chop, as casual as a butcher cutting meat. Accidentally, he kicked Sarah’s head. The gory object rolled deeper under the bed, coming to rest cheek-to-cheek with me. I slammed my hands over my mouth, shaking uncontrollably. The metallic stench of blood was overpowering; I wanted to vomit. I don’t know where I got the courage, but I reached out and pushed her head outward slightly. Just as Ethan stepped forward, he kicked the head like a soccer ball, sending it flying across the room. Ethan paused, stopping his work. Blood dripped steadily from the cleaver in his hand. I prayed silently in my heart: Don’t look under the bed. Please, don’t look under the bed. After a few seconds of hesitation, he walked over to retrieve the head. I let out a silent breath. I was safe for the moment. My brain raced, trying to find a way out. Sarah lived on the 10th floor. Jumping out the window was impossible. My only chance was to wait until Ethan finished disposing of the body and left. But could I last that long? Blood was spreading toward me. I wormed my body further back, trying to avoid the crimson pool inching toward my lips. Ethan chopped for a while longer. Suddenly, one of Sarah’s hands fell to the floor. My heart nearly stopped. If he bent down to pick it up, he would definitely see me. Ethan paused, then slowly bent at the waist to grab the hand. I squeezed my eyes shut, choking back a scream, praying to any god that would listen. The next second, a knock pounded on the door. 02 Ethan froze, holding that bent-over posture, motionless. Bang, bang, bang. The knocking continued, followed by a loud shout: “I’m back! Open the door!” I recognized the voice. It was Mike, Sarah’s boyfriend. Ethan hesitated for a moment, coughed twice, then straightened up and walked toward the door. He put on some clean clothes, hid the cleaver behind his back, and stood by the entrance. My stomach twisted into knots. If Mike broke in and fought Ethan, maybe I could escape in the chaos. Thinking this, I scooted closer to the edge of the bed, ready to bolt. Ethan hesitated, then opened the door. “What took so long?” Mike’s voice sounded irritated from the hallway. My heart went cold. Mike knew about the affair? It sounded like the two men had an arrangement. Ethan smoked his cigarette, saying nothing. Only then did Mike notice the blood on Ethan and the nauseating smell filling the air. His face went pale. “You… what did you do?” Ethan smiled eerily. “Isn’t it obvious?” “You… you killed her?” Mike was stunned. He grabbed Ethan’s collar. “You said we were just playing around! Why did you kill her?” “I thought you didn’t care if she lived or died,” Ethan said calmly. Murder seemed as trivial to him as buying groceries. Mike collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Ethan’s eyes were cold, but his lips curved into a smile. “Help me get rid of her. If the cops find out, you won’t get away with it either.” Mike snapped, shouting, “Bullshit! You killed her! I didn’t know anything! You can’t drag me down with you!” Ethan moved suddenly. He grabbed Mike by the collar and pressed the cleaver against his throat. “Let me rephrase. Help me dispose of her, or I’ll kill you right now.” Mike finally broke. His lips trembled, unable to speak, so he just nodded vigorously. Ethan released him and jerked his head toward the bedroom, signaling him to start. Mike walked shakily to the bed. Despite being mentally prepared, seeing Sarah’s butchered remains made him vomit instantly. “Useless,” Ethan sneered. He picked up two large garbage bags and went into the kitchen. I huddled under the bed, watching Mike retch while he tried to bag the body parts. Suddenly, a piece of Sarah’s arm fell to the floor again. Mike bent down to pick it up and froze. He saw me. My eyes trembled. I pressed a finger to my lips in a “shh” motion. Mike instinctively looked toward the kitchen. He didn’t speak. His lips moved silently, and I read his words: Run. Call the police. I shuddered and nodded hard. Ethan was chopping something loudly in the kitchen, oblivious to the situation here. I slowly crawled out from under the bed, my bare feet squelching on the blood-slicked floor. I inched toward the door. The distance was only a few steps, but it felt like miles. I kept my eyes glued to the kitchen, terrified Ethan would turn around. Perhaps because the chopping was too loud, or maybe Mike was intentionally making noise to cover me, I made it out the door. In the hallway, a cold draft hit me, making me shiver. Only then did I realize my clothes were soaked through with cold sweat. I tried to run, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed. It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw the door handle behind me turn. The overwhelming will to survive flooded my body with adrenaline. I scrambled up and ran toward the stairs. I lived in the same building as Sarah. She was on the 10th floor; I was on the 18th. When I bought the place, Sarah told me the 18th floor was bad luck, but I wasn’t superstitious, and it was cheap. I ran up eight flights of stairs in one breath. Reaching my door, I fumbled to open the smart lock and rushed inside, finally feeling a sliver of safety. I slapped myself hard across the face to make sure what I just saw wasn’t a nightmare. In my mind, Ethan was a gentle, mild-mannered man. An honest guy who would rather suffer a loss than hurt others. I couldn’t reconcile him with that psychopathic killer. And judging by his proficiency, this wasn’t his first kill. 03 A few days ago, I noticed something was off. I found a long pink hair on his coat. It was a rare dye color, and Sarah had just dyed her hair that shade. At first, I didn’t want to believe it. Ethan loved me. The only times I ever saw him angry were when someone mistreated me. Sarah was promiscuous and morally loose, while Ethan was the quiet, stoic type. I didn’t think they would hook up. But reality hit me hard. While Ethan was sleeping, I checked his phone. Initially, I found nothing. But soon, I discovered a “Second Space”—a hidden interface on his phone. Inside, it wasn’t just dating apps. There was a dedicated account for contacting Sarah. And then there were the photos. Horrifying, grotesque photos. Girls being tortured, bruised, battered. Some were dismembered, chopped in half. All the girls had blonde hair. I have blonde hair. I never imagined that beneath his gentle exterior, his fetishes were this vile. Then I saw the chat logs with Sarah. Sar-bear: “Honey, he’s not home tomorrow. I’ll wait for you.” Sar-bear: “Don’t worry, I’ll give you an experience Chloe never could.” Attached was a nude photo. Ethan replied with a suggestive sticker. I was consumed by rage and tears. I never thought my best friend would seduce my boyfriend. That was why I left work early today and hid under her bed—to catch them in the act. I never expected Ethan to butcher her. Why? And Mike knew about their affair. Why didn’t he stop it? My mind was a mess. I pulled at my hair helplessly. After a moment of shock, I realized I had to call the police. Mike was in danger. I grabbed my phone with trembling hands. The case was stained red with blood. “Hello? 911, what is your emergency?” A gentle female voice answered. I was overjoyed and about to speak. At the exact same moment, the sound of my smart lock opening echoed through the apartment. Beep. Fingerprint verified. Door open. I froze, terror washing over my face. “Hello? Ma’am?” the dispatcher asked. I hung up immediately. Ethan walked into the living room. “Babe? Not asleep yet? Who were you calling?” “No… no one,” I stammered, face pale, body shaking. He had changed into clean clothes. He looked like the same refined, gentle man as always. Completely different from the butcher at the murder scene. “Babe, why is there blood on your clothes?” He noticed the stains and looked slightly surprised. I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. “I… fell off my bike.” He stared at me, his expression complex. “So, the person who ran away just now… was you?” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. My legs went soft. Ethan stepped forward and caught me. “Sorry, babe. Did I scare you?” He blushed slightly, looking as guilty as a child who broke a vase. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” I shoved him away with all my strength, retreating a few steps. “You… why did you kill her?” He looked at me calmly. “Babe, she was your best friend, yet she seduced me. Didn’t she deserve to die?” I was stunned. “Just for that? You killed her?” He nodded and tried to hug me again. I dodged. “She claimed to be your best friend but hurt you like that. I couldn’t stand it. She had to die.” I stared at him. This face was so familiar, yet so alien. His reason was absurd. “Hypocrite! Then why did you sleep with her?” He went silent, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, babe. But you have to believe me. I really did it for you.” I suddenly remembered something. I stared wide-eyed. “What about Mike?” “Dead.” “No… I have to call the police.” Panic overtook me. I grabbed my phone, but Ethan snatched it away, a flash of ferocity in his eyes. I shivered and backed away, afraid he would snap and kill me too. But the murderous look vanished instantly. He grabbed my shoulders, looking at me sincerely. “Babe, just pretend you didn’t see anything today. I’ll handle everything.” “Can we go back to living like we used to?” I trembled, then nodded. No matter what, I had to feign compliance to have any hope of escape. Seeing I forgave him, Ethan seemed happy. He coughed twice, hugged me tight, then pulled a necklace from his pocket and clasped it around my neck. “Babe, tomorrow is our anniversary. This is your gift. I wanted to give it to you tomorrow.” He smiled at me. I looked down at the necklace, trembling. “Babe, I won’t let anyone who wants to hurt you get away with it.” I didn’t speak. I eyed the heavy metal water bottle on the table. He let go of me, his face gentle. “Look at you, covered in filth. Go wash up.” “Mhm.” I waited for him to turn slightly. Then I grabbed the water bottle and smashed it into the back of his head with everything I had. He groaned, stumbled back, blood streaming down his forehead. His eyes were full of shock. I didn’t look back. I threw the door open and ran for my life. Ethan sighed, wiping the blood from his face. “Why… why just won’t you listen?” 04 I knew I wouldn’t get far before Ethan caught me. If he did, I was dead. I ran down to the 17th floor and pounded on the door of unit 1703. Professor Sterling lived there. I didn’t know his first name, just called him Professor. He moved in recently, in his 30s, refined and scholarly. I had a good impression of him. “Professor Sterling! Professor! Are you home? Ethan is trying to kill me!” I hammered on the door, screaming in terror. Footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Ethan was coming. There was no movement inside. I started to cry. “Babe, come home. This is your last chance.” Ethan’s gloomy face emerged from the darkness of the stairwell like a demon from hell, approaching step by step. Just as I fell into despair, the door opened. A pair of hands yanked me inside. Slam. The door locked. The relief of surviving made me gasp for air. Arms wrapped around my shoulders. Under Professor Sterling’s comfort, I slowly calmed down. Finding a safe harbor, I hugged him and wailed. Sterling’s body stiffened noticeably. I felt his breathing accelerate. After a hesitation, he hugged me back. I cried for five minutes before calming down, releasing him awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Professor, I…” Sterling adjusted his glasses, interrupting my apology. When he saw the blood on my clothes, he paused but quickly recovered. “Miss Chloe, what happened? Fight with Ethan?” Terror filled my face. I shook my head. “Ethan is a murderer. He killed my best friend and her boyfriend. I think he wants to kill me now.” Sterling looked stunned, lowering his head in thought. “You’re not joking?” “No! I saw it with my own eyes.” I patted my pockets anxiously to call the police, remembering Ethan still had my phone. “Professor, please call 911! If he gets in, we’re done!” Sterling nodded, stood up, and dialed the number, explaining the situation to the dispatcher. After hanging up, he leaned against the table, staring at me with a strange expression. I was about to speak when violent banging shook the door. “Babe, stop making a scene. Come home.” Ethan’s voice came from the hallway. “Ethan, I’ve called the police! Turn yourself in!” I shouted back, trembling. Ethan was silent for a moment, hit the door hard once more, then his footsteps receded. He seemed to have left. I collapsed onto the sofa. Sterling was still staring at me. His gaze was odd—full of suspicion and doubt. “Chloe, calm down. What exactly happened?” I told him everything about today, detail by detail. His expression shifted, becoming serious. “Chloe, have you heard of the Westside Strangler?” I paused, my eyes changing slightly, then nodded slowly. “The Westside Strangler is a serial killer. In six years, he brutally raped and murdered five women.” “He’s extremely skilled at counter-surveillance. I was fortunate enough to consult for the task force hunting him… I know some inside details.” He looked down. “The Strangler’s victims were all blondes without exception. The killer has a specific fetish.” “And you happen to be blonde. Plus the photos you found on Ethan’s phone…” A strange light flashed in Sterling’s eyes. “I am certain. Ethan is the Westside Strangler.” I sat frozen, unable to process it. I had been married to Ethan for four years. He had always been kind to me, never losing his temper. Was I just prey he was raising for the slaughter? No wonder he was so efficient at killing Sarah. I sat on the floor, pulling at my hair in agony. If I hadn’t found out today, I would have ended up like those girls. Sterling sighed and patted my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe for now. The police will be here soon.” I looked at him blankly and nodded. Sterling boiled water and made me a cup of tea. It smelled incredibly fragrant, soothing my nerves. “Thank you, Professor.” I smiled gently at him. He seemed shy, coughing lightly, cheeks flushing. “It’s nothing. I couldn’t just leave you to die.” After drinking the tea, I checked the time. It had been almost an hour since the call. Why weren’t the police here? Sterling saw my confusion and comforted me: “Don’t worry. They should be here any minute.” He stood up, smiling slightly. “After all this, you must be exhausted. Sleep for a bit.” I hesitated, but my mind was indeed nearing collapse, so I agreed. He walked to the closet to get me a blanket. Strange. He lived alone. Why did he have a pink duvet set? Exhaustion hit me like a wave. I yawned, eyelids heavy. Suddenly, a loud crash startled me. Sterling had accidentally knocked over a box while getting the duvet. I walked over to help him pick it up. “No need, I got it,” his voice pitched up two octaves. He tried to block me. But I had already flipped the box open. My eyes widened in horror.

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Mistakenly posted a social media post as a resignation letter, which then went viral.Me: “Did you read the document I submitted?” Boss: “Mm… I read it.” Me: “Why didn’t you reply? Don’t agree?” He didn’t speak. I was getting impatient: “If you don’t speak, I’ll take it as a yes. I’ll come to your office this afternoon.” Boss replied instantly: “That fast?” Me: “? What’s fast?” Boss: “I need to think about it…” Two seconds later, he sent another message: “Is that okay?” I agreed. The result? He left work early and even gave the entire company three days off. I sat at my desk pondering for a long time: Is he resorting to such extreme measures just to keep me from resigning? Chapter 1 At this moment, the whole company exploded. Just because of one sentence from Liam Grant: “Clock out. Take three days off.” “Is the boss crazy?” My deskmate, Chloe, refreshed her phone several times. I held my phone, looking around in confusion. So, what does that make the vacation I exchanged my resignation for? Is it just my bad luck? “The economy is bad recently. Could it be that the boss can’t afford to pay salaries, so he’s testing us with this?” “Is this the rhythm of layoffs?” “Right, right! When I went to submit the proposal today, I heard the boss talking about layoffs. Looks like it’s happening!” … My heart went cold. If it’s a layoff, I can still get a severance package! Is it too late to withdraw my resignation letter now? Chapter 2 Regardless of whether it was too late, I was already standing in Liam’s office. I have to say, Liam is genuinely good-looking. Broad shoulders. Slim waist. And that ass… Didn’t see the ass today. But based on my past observations, it probably feels great to smack. “Cough.” The clearing of a throat pulled me back to reality. “Something the matter?” Liam didn’t look up at me, just slowly flipping through the document in his hand. I was a bit obsequious: “Boss, did you read the letter I submitted today…” “I read it.” The cold words just slipped out of his mouth so casually. I was anxious, but didn’t dare show it too much: “It’s fine if you read it, I just wanted to…” “Wanted to what?” He closed the document and adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses he put on at some point. I answered quickly. Of course, I want to withdraw the resignation letter. You lay me off, and then I sadly take a huge severance package! Did you think I was fantasizing about how hard your abs are under that shirt, or how bouncy your butt is on that chair? Ridiculous. “Didn’t I say I would consider it?” Liam finally looked up at me, his eyes meaningful: “Are you in a hurry?” “Yes!” I blurted out. Took a step forward, closing the distance between us. Emphasizing again with a sincere expression: “Boss, I’m really in a hurry.” Liam froze for a moment, a weird flush suddenly appearing on his ears. “Mm, I know.” “I’ll think about it some more.” My voice softened a bit: “Boss, no need to consider.” At this close distance, I saw Liam’s Adam’s apple roll quickly. Damn sexy. “What?” The rising intonation pulled back my scattered thoughts. “I decided to withdraw it first.” “I wrote that just for fun, sent it to you by mistake.” “I didn’t intend to have that thought.” Instantly, he frowned. Look at that. Considering for so long without approving, and even saying he needs to think about it when I chased him to the office. Now that I say I want to withdraw the resignation letter, the breath he was holding is released. If this isn’t reluctance to let me go, what is it! But it’s a pity. Although working under him is easy, the benefits are good, and he looks god-like, which is the main point. But! I am disappointing myself. Staying up late writing novels recently, my health isn’t great, and I can’t take it anymore. Plus, the royalties I earn are enough to support myself. So I just wanted to resign and rest at home for a while. Chapter 3 “Why do you suddenly regret it again?” Liam was expressionless, his tone serious. “Usually I don’t care about your playing around, and jokes with me are harmless, but when it comes to doing things…” He paused: “Shouldn’t you consider carefully before acting, and then see it through to the end?” I could feel he lowered his volume, probably afraid of being too harsh on me. Truly a beautiful and kind-hearted boss. I was even more moved: “Yes, but I can’t bear to leave you.” His fingers trembled slightly on the desk. I added: “And the others.” “Like Alex in the pantry who always pours coffee for me, Quinn who often brings milk tea for the ladies, Leo who helps with work and teaches us tech…” “All of them, I can’t bear to leave.” Liam narrowed his eyes slightly: “You hold quite a few male colleagues in your heart.” “Like them all?” Not really. The boss is still superior; after all, their asses aren’t as perky as yours. I responded: “There are female colleagues too.” “Everyone, I like them all quite a bit.” He sneered: “I don’t know what these people you mentioned have to do with what you sent me.” “But based on what you mean now, there are too many choices, so you want to hesitate again, right?” “Yes.” I said solemnly: “I can’t hang myself on one tree.” “Of course, I can’t easily give up this one tree either, so I still have to consider more.” Liam didn’t say a word, but his fingers curled into a fist, knuckles turning white. Seems like I touched his heart. After all, he’s the boss of a company, supporting so many people. He can’t just run away like me. Rich people must have their pitiful points. “I see you are quite willing to part with me, every sentence stabs the heart.” Liam took off his gold-rimmed glasses. Returned to his usual aloof, unapproachable demeanor. “Get out.” “So…” “I know you don’t have that thought anymore, I won’t take it to heart.” Chapter 4 The boss’s mind is like the weather in June, unpredictable. When I left the office, I found everyone was already gone. Opened my phone, work group messages popped up. [Big Ass Boss: Don’t worry about leaving, nothing’s wrong. Those who continue to work overtime now will be considered as giving up the vacation.] Then a wave of received and flattering words. These messages were sent when I entered the office. The tone was urgent, like shooing people away. Pretty much the same as shooing me away just now. I “tsk-tsked”: I certainly wouldn’t be narcissistic enough to think sending a resignation letter could make the boss give three days off. Saying nothing’s wrong, bullshit, he was in such a hurry to drive people away probably to take this time to list the layoff names properly. Also. Chloe sent me a message: [Don’t know which god-killed person pulled my computer cable in a hurry, pissed me off.] [Borrowing your computer to transfer some files haha.] I replied with a few emojis indicating I was out of the office. Casually complained about Liam a couple of times. Turned off the phone, started packing slowly. Pondering in my heart. Step one to get the severance package, withdraw the resignation letter. Step two, make the boss voluntarily lay me off. While the computer screen was still on, I opened Google search: “How to make the boss voluntarily…” The blinds opened with a “whoosh”. I faced a black face. “Tara, you cast your screen to my office.” Damn it! Chapter 5 I ran all the way home, cursing Chloe a hundred times. “Chloe, you’re going to kill me, why did you use my computer to request a connection with the boss’s computer!” “I almost pasted the words ‘voluntary layoff’ on his forehead!” Chloe begged for mercy: “I didn’t cast the screen! I was afraid you had unsaved data so I didn’t turn it off, maybe someone touched it by mistake.” That is also a possibility. I opened the document at light speed. Inside was the article I wrote while slacking off. Luckily not lost. I set up snacks and water, ready to go. Preparing to stay up all night driving on the “highway” (writing smut). As for getting the severance package through voluntary layoff, I’ll figure it out later. Pleasing someone is hard, but isn’t annoying someone simple? Until midnight, cool wind poured in from the window. After sneezing several times in a row, I started having a runny nose. Caught a cold again. Used up tissues one by one, the trash can was almost full. Fighting sleepiness, I sent the message and file. “Had a big session tonight, body aches all over, seem to have caught a cold now, seeking comfort.” I have a very good relationship with my editor, I often talk to her like this. I waited quietly for the file to send. But. Sending failed. Forcing my eyelids open, I continued sending messages to the editor: “Is my baby far away still angry?” It’s a long story. A while ago, my editor received an abusive email in the middle of the night, pissed her off so much she cried to me for half the night. So she cowardly decided not to open her email at midnight. Guessing I dragged the manuscript for too long, she forgot today was my deadline and didn’t open permissions for me. Yawning, I groggily sent the new draft into the chat box. And comforted her: “Don’t be angry, showing you something good.” After speaking, I fell asleep immediately. Completely missing the bombardment of messages, and retracting them one by one. Chapter 6 I didn’t open my eyes until the sun was high the next day. Didn’t expect to catch a cold. Chloe sent a message saying all employees were gathering for a meal. I refused. [Stayed up all night, back ache, and caught a cold.] The small group of female colleagues exploded with onlookers: [Just half a day off, and you’re so unrestrained, come out for criticism!] [Hoes before bros!] [So fierce? Introduce one to me too.] […] I held my forehead and smiled bitterly. Shouldn’t have recommended novels to this group back then. Minds full of things that can’t be put on the table. Phone went “ding ding” a few times. Liam actually sent a message. [Sick? Took medicine?] [Better pay attention to rest.] Subconsciously wanted to click in to reply. But I suddenly remembered: I’m the one who needs him to voluntarily lay me off. Have to annoy him. So I deliberately ignored him and went to reply to the small group message. Clicked voice message: “Yes, can still fight three hundred rounds.” Voice sent, the yellow-minded girls passionately turned on their mics. The scale of conversation was so big every sentence had to be beeped out. I looked through them sentence by sentence. Laughing so hard I trembled on the bed. When I had enough fun. I clicked open Liam’s message box: [Sick, took it.] Sending failed. He actually blocked me. I sat up abruptly. Who provoked him again? Sorted through my chaotic brain once, I asked Chloe: [Is Liam eating with you guys?] Chloe: [Yeah, he just asked if you were coming, I said you were sick and couldn’t get out of bed.] Me: [That’s really heartless of him, blocking me when I’m this miserable.] Chloe: [Ah, could it be because of that voice message just now, he thinks we teamed up to lie to him.] Me: [?] Chloe: [The three hundred rounds one… I forgot to mute just now, accidentally played it on speaker.] Me: [……]

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I went to my childhood sweetheart’s house to mooch a meal. His mom was teasing him: “You and Chloe are going on an exchange program together; just don’t create a ‘little accident’ over there.” I subconsciously asked him: “Is Australia that unsafe now?” After asking, the three people at the table froze. It was Julian who spoke first: “Mom, Chloe and I are really not together.” His mom winked frantically at me. I understood and advised him: “You two are a good match, why not give it a try?” This time, Julian’s face turned completely dark. Chapter 1 Closing the bedroom door. Julian pressed me against the wall, biting my lip punitively. “What do you mean ‘a good match’?” Finally catching my breath, I blinked my misty eyes and said: “You are a good match. Last year, didn’t you and Chloe get voted the ‘Top Ship We Wish Were Real’ by the Computer Science department at MIT?” What did the confession wall say back then? One is Professor Vance’s proudest student. One is Professor Vance’s most pampered daughter. During their undergrad, they co-authored a paper that was exceptionally accepted by a top domestic conference. Matched in strength, a powerful alliance. Not long after, a photo of them winning an informatics competition in high school was dug up. Even though the photo was blurry, it couldn’t hide their god-tier looks. The comment section built hundreds of floors, screaming “I ship it.” I was so angry I downvoted every single comment. I forced Julian to submit a real-name post to the confession wall, clarifying that he already had a girlfriend. The power couple thus became the “one that got away” couple. Snapping back to reality, Julian’s kiss didn’t fall again. He looked at me in surprise: “Ava, didn’t you use to hate mentioning Chloe the most?” “What’s up with you today?” Chapter 2 Actually, nothing much. I really just don’t care anymore. Julian and I are childhood sweethearts, grew up together. During the summer after high school graduation, our families went to a hot spring resort. Our parents were playing poker inside, while we had a water fight in the private spring. Mid-fight, he suddenly leaned in and kissed me. That was the third year of my secret crush on Julian, and our friendship successfully changed quality. After the “accident,” he panted and left my lips: “Ava, let’s wait until we’re stable before telling our parents.” “Otherwise, if you don’t want me in the future, it’ll be so awkward for our families.” So we started dating without telling our families. Julian’s grades were consistently top of the class, and he went to MIT. My grades were average, barely enough for a decent state school, so I stayed in Boston for college. On Valentine’s Day in the third year of our long-distance relationship. I secretly bought a train ticket to Cambridge. Carrying handmade chocolates, I planned to surprise Julian. That was the first time I met Chloe. Outside the lab, she blocked me condescendingly. “Classmate, I’ll pass on your message, but take the stuff back. Julian doesn’t like sweets.” Luckily, Julian saw me then. “Ava, why are you here?” “Girlfriend?” She looked me up and down, smiling mischievously: “Oops, my bad, didn’t tell.” Chloe was overly familiar. After adding me on social media, she complained to me: “On days like this, so many girls come to give things to Julian. If I knew blocking his admirers was this troublesome, I wouldn’t have agreed.” “By the way, you don’t look like you go to our school. Are you from Harvard next door?” I shook my head quickly. After I told her my school name, I accurately captured the flash of disdain in her eyes. Until we went to the cafeteria to eat, I didn’t give Julian a good face. I had long heard Julian mention Chloe. She was a friend he met when he went to Cambridge for the informatics competition in high school. In these three years, Julian never skimped on praising Chloe, often mentioning her. “Why didn’t you tell me Chloe is a girl?” He laughed: “You never asked me?” Julian skillfully picked the fish meat from my plate, removing the bones while asking: “What, jealous already?” I said bluntly: “I don’t like Chloe. She offended me.” “She’s just like that, a bit straightforward.” “Once you spend more time with her, you’ll find she actually has no malice.” When saying this, Julian’s eyes were smiling. From then on, Chloe’s name became the fish bone I couldn’t pick out that day. Stuck in my throat. Couldn’t swallow it, couldn’t dig it out. Chapter 3 I started having frequent nightmares. Dreaming of Julian intimately holding Chloe, telling me in a disgusted tone: “Ava, don’t come looking for me anymore.” I became increasingly insecure. The year I graduated, I decided to leave Boston and look for a job in Cambridge. But more than a month passed. I interviewed with several companies, finished the final rounds, but heard nothing back. The sense of failure hit me like waves, leaving me devastated. Julian said he would take me on a trip to relax. I remembered a few days ago, I accidentally glanced at a push notification about Australian tourism on his phone. Suddenly full of anticipation. I not only seriously researched guides but also found a night shift part-time job to save money. On the way home that day, I seemed to be followed. Thinking of the homeless man lingering at the convenience store entrance after work. I quickened my pace while calling Julian for courage. It took three tries to connect. “Ava, my phone is dying, I’ll call you back later.” Before I could speak. Responding to my trembling sobbing voice was only the rapid busy tone. After getting home, I was still shaken. Suddenly saw Chloe’s new post: [Thanks to a certain photographer who took photos until his phone died~] In the photo, the girl’s face was brimming with a bright smile. The background was a teaching building resembling Hogwarts, with jacarandas filling the street. Location below. Australia, University of Sydney. Late at night, Julian called me back. I asked one sentence, he answered one: “Yes, I am in Sydney now, going back this weekend.” “How could it be for tourism? Our lab has a collaborative project here, just came for a few days of exchange and learning.” “Of course there are others. Besides me and Chloe, there’s Professor Vance and two seniors.” I suddenly felt a bit tired. As if drained, I instantly lost all desire to confide. “Since it’s like this, why did you hide it from me?” “Wasn’t I afraid you’d overthink it?” After a long silence, I seemed to hear him sigh. “Ava, you weren’t this jealous before.” This wasn’t the first time Julian and I had a conflict. But this time. Separated by over seven thousand kilometers and a two-hour time difference. Neither of us initiated contact. Unlucky in love, lucky in career. Waking up that day, I actually received the offer I dreamed of. Cold war or whatever was thrown to the back of my mind. In the receiver, Julian’s voice carried a smile: “Anger gone? Knowing to contact me?” “I’ve boarded. Brought you a souvenir specific to Sydney.” “This jacaranda snow globe was really hard to buy; I queued for several hours to get it.” I was coaxed immediately. Went to the airport to pick up Julian. Planned to tell him the good news about getting the offer in person. But saw Chloe sitting on the suitcase, pulling his sleeve coquettishly: “Julian, heard from my dad that your exchange application is filled out?” “Lend it to me for reference, please.” Chapter 4 Silent all the way to the apartment. I was distracted. Knee hit the shoe cabinet, pain bringing tears to my eyes. Finally couldn’t help asking Julian: “You’re going to Sydney for exchange?” “Not certain yet. Even if the application passes, it’ll be next semester.” He squatted down to rub my knee, coaxing gently: “Anyway, it’s just one year. It’s not like I’m staying abroad and not coming back.” “Ava, haven’t we survived four years of long-distance?” Four years of long-distance. Julian said it lightly. The bulging ticket folder was stuffed with my tickets traveling between Boston and Cambridge over the years. But what about him? The number of times he actively came to my school could be counted on one hand. While I desperately fought for job opportunities in Cambridge just to be closer to him, he was preparing for IELTS. While I bought furniture for our small home, planning our future, he was researching local prices in Australia. I looked at Julian, smiling with tears: “You’re ready to go abroad with Chloe, why assume I’ll wait for you?” He frowned: “Ava, we’re all women, I don’t understand why you always hold such hostility towards Chloe?” “This exchange opportunity is rare. We are both people who prioritize the future. I don’t know what you’re imagining blindly?” “In high school, you even delivered love letters for others to me. How come you’ve become so sensitive, suspicious, and unreasonable now?” My emotions were ignited instantly. I screamed hysterically at him: “Is a friend the same as a girlfriend?” Julian scrutinized me calmly for a long time. “I’ve been thinking these days, maybe we’re more suitable as friends.” His voice grew colder bit by bit. “Preparing application materials and research topics recently has been very tiring. I don’t want to argue with you over this.” “Let’s separate for now and calm down for a while.”

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While I was kissing the younger twin, all I could think about was how to sleep with his older brother. Until I accidentally overheard the two brothers making a bet: “Archer, you’ve had your fun. Do you really think you can replace me?” “I bet you, with just one word from me, Blaire will crawl back to me like a dog.” In the VIP booth of the club, the younger twin bit his cigarette and sneered: “Really? Then I bet five million dollars.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought they had found out I was acting too. Then I’ll make a bet as well. I bet that within three months, I’ll take down both of them, plus that five million. Chapter 1 Everyone knew I liked Asher Sterling. I confessed to him seven times. Asher tirelessly rejected me seven times. But on the eighth time, “he” rarely agreed. But I knew, “he” wasn’t him. He just had the exact same face as Asher Sterling. But he knew how to please me extremely well. Seeing me come over, Archer hurriedly stubbed out the cigarette in his hand. He knew I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. But his hand dishonestly slipped into my thin shirt, asking for a reward for being obedient. I closed my eyes, lying in his arms, pretending to push him away. “Asher, our 100-day anniversary is coming up. How do you plan to celebrate?” The person buried in my neck, kissing down to my collarbone, suddenly stopped. Archer lifted his eyelids, staring at me with eyes full of desire. What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong? After all, the person I confessed to was Asher. He was the one who silently agreed to be a substitute. I pretended to wait innocently for his answer. Archer took a deep breath and pushed me away. He seemed to sober up. After a long while, he slowly spat out a few words. “You like it lively, so we’ll invite a few more people…” Before Archer could finish, I lowered my head and took the initiative to kiss him. His look of restraint, forbearance, and aggrieved thoughtfulness for me. It really made me want to bully him hard. Not long after, the hands that were politely placed at his sides just now suddenly tightened around me, pressing me firmly against him. Seamlessly. I was squeezed breathless, deliberately speaking in a muffled voice close to his ear: “Asher, I plan to give myself to you on our anniversary…” Archer, who was working hard, suddenly stiffened. His throat rolled, and he looked up at me. Then he kissed my forehead gently and with restraint. I saw him open his mouth several times, but in the end, it turned into three words: “Okay. Blaire.” I smiled and patted his head. “Good boy.” I got off him and went to the bathroom to tidy up my clothes. Who knew when I came back, standing at the door, I heard a familiar voice. “The anniversary is the day after tomorrow. I have something important to tell Blaire.” “Bring her to that place.” Archer completely dropped the disguise of being obedient in front of me. He asked back nonchalantly: “Why?” “Because you still want to continue being her dog, and she is my dog.” Asher left. I heard the sound of glass shattering inside. Chapter 2 An anniversary should originally be a matter for two people. But Asher invited a bunch of his bros. But they were all in the circle. Everyone knew each other inside out. Even how many times I confessed, and when each time was, they knew clearly. So, when Archer walked in with his arm around me. Everyone present wasn’t very surprised. Because, when I confessed to Asher for the eighth time. It was this group of brothers who came up with the idea for him. I hid behind the door in advance, and a brother specifically stalled Asher. Waiting for me to be ready. Holding flowers, his brothers holding confetti cannons. The door opened. I closed my eyes and recited the confession words I knew by heart in one breath. But this time, “Asher” was different. He froze first, then he smiled. He accepted the flowers I gave. He kissed me. He agreed. Later, I found out that was the second son of the Sterling family. Also Asher Sterling’s twin brother—Archer Sterling. When Archer walked in with his arm around me, everyone was used to it. But there was one person whose gaze was fixed on the palm resting on my shoulder. This person was Asher. As if deliberately provoking me, seeing me come over, he put his hand on the thigh of the girl next to him. But his eyes stared at me unblinkingly. Counting it up. This was the first time I was in a battlefield with both brothers present. I shook Archer’s arm, looking innocent and surprised: “Asher, who is he? Why does he look exactly like you?” Everyone present gasped. Calling his name to his own brother, and being clingy in front of so many brothers. No one could stand it. Especially since this person was the rightful owner of the confession. Asher tutted: “Want to know? Finish this glass of wine, and I’ll tell you.” The real Asher pushed the wine in front of me. Archer didn’t even think. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp. Asher gritted his teeth in anger, but because so many people were there, he finally threw out impatiently: “I am his younger brother… Archer! Sterling!” As the words fell, the real Asher raised a bottle and chugged it. Finished it in one breath, and smashed it on the ground with a bang. Done in one go. The whole room went silent instantly. Everyone didn’t know how to advise for a moment. If Asher hadn’t tacitly agreed to this back then, his group of brothers wouldn’t have come up with any substitute idea. Couldn’t blame anyone else. Just didn’t expect Archer to take it seriously, hadn’t played enough? The person who said hadn’t played enough hadn’t spoken until now. Now he stood up. Archer raised an eyebrow and said nonchalantly: “I’ll go call the waiter. Clean up a bit.” Actually, he didn’t need to go for this. Ordering anyone would do. But right now he just really wanted to smoke. Wanted it badly. I quickly stood up. “I’ll go call. You brothers finally got together, chat more.” I went out and explained the situation to the front desk. She told me to go back first, saying the waiter would come later. But as soon as I stood at the door, I heard it was lively inside. “Asher, do you really not mind that Blaire treats your own brother as you?” Fair-weather friends are good for this; no matter how serious you think things are. But in their eyes, they don’t care at all; it’s just gossip after dinner. Asher pushed away the girl next to him. His brow was pressed very low, unable to see any emotion, just said lightly: “Doesn’t matter. She’s too obedient. So obedient I can’t bring myself to do anything.” “Just right to let my brother help me train her. Train. Her.” Too obedient for him to do anything? Was that why he rejected me seven times? But he clearly admitted himself that he liked obedient ones. I still remember, the graduation party was held at Asher’s private estate. Probably annoyed by being asked by too many girls, he stopped all activities. In front of everyone, he announced his girlfriend standards. I remember clearly, the last sentence he said. [I especially like obedient ones, especially like her.] After speaking, he even put his arm around me and introduced me to everyone with a smile. Intimate movements. I thought he was sincere. Later I found out, that was just him speaking casually. But it trapped me for so many days and nights. I looked up and swept a glance inside. I don’t know when Asher had already sat next to Archer. “Archer Sterling, playing around is fine. You don’t really think you can replace me?” “I dare to bet, with just one word from me. Blaire will crawl over like a dog.” In the corner of the booth, Archer’s brow was pressed very low, biting a cigarette and sneering: “Really? Then I bet five million.” Asher looked like he heard some huge joke. He scoffed: “Even if you bet ten million, the loser in the end will only be you.” “Don’t forget, who does Blaire really like? A substitute is always just a substitute.” Asher was a bit strange today. Strange enough that everyone present didn’t quite understand. Didn’t understand why his words were full of gunpowder. “Bro, haven’t you heard the saying, he who laughs last laughs best?” Asher seemed to be provoked. He glared at Archer and sneered: “Fine, then today we make the first bet.” “Bet whether she spends the anniversary with you or with me?” That gang of brothers all looked at him in unison. “Tell me, if I tell her the whole truth, how will she choose?” Chapter 3 I pushed open the door and walked over pretending nothing happened. Straight to Archer with a smile: “Asher, the waiter will be here in a moment.” The real Asher sneered. He picked up his wine glass and clinked it on the glass table. Everyone’s eyes fell on him. But he locked me with his gaze with interest. “Blaire, if I say, I am the real Asher Sterling, would you go with me?” I didn’t expect him to ask so bluntly. Archer suddenly lifted his eyelids and stared at me. I saw his clenched fists and the uneasiness in his eyes. Asher smiled smugly. If this were a few months ago, I would of course go with him without hesitation. Before meeting Archer, all I thought about was that Asher who said I was obedient. But now, I hesitated. I said, on the anniversary, I would give myself to [Asher Sterling]. But, two faces looking exactly the same, who is Asher? Depends on my mood. Oh, right. Didn’t the real Asher say, with just one word from him, I would crawl over like a dog? Then… crawl over? Only. It’s not me. If he crawls over, what then? I stood up, walked to Asher, and swept him a glance innocently. Then turned to Archer, looked up and sniffed the scent on him carefully. Pretending to identify seriously who was the real [Asher Sterling]. Studied for a long time. Under everyone’s gaze. I hugged Archer’s arm, smiling politely at Asher with a shy face: “Little brother-in-law, stop messing around. I’m in mutual love with your brother. Can’t I tell who is who?” Asher probably never expected. In just three short months. The person rejected by him seven times now dared to reject him in turn? He stood up abruptly, arriving in front of me in a few steps. Archer immediately blocked in front of me. I tugged at Archer, tilting my head timidly. Mumbling softly: “Actually… there is another way, just don’t know if you two are willing to try?” “What?” Asher asked impatiently. “Heard that… if the other party really cares about someone, they will be obedient to her. Like a puppy…” I looked down picking my fingers, staring at my toes: “Then… would you be willing…” Forget it, dog crawling is a bit humiliating. “Willing to… bark like a dog to make me happy.” “Impossible.” Asher gritted his teeth. “Woof…” I hurriedly raised my hand to cover Archer’s mouth. Embarrassing to death. I smiled at the person opposite: “See. Obviously you are not. My Asher is an obedient puppy. He wouldn’t make me sad.” The real Asher was so angry he smashed his phone on the spot. Full of hostility, he strode out. Archer wrapped his arm around my waist, whispering bewitchingly in my ear: “Blaire was frightened today, I’ll reward you well when we go back.” “Don’t want to.” “Really? Who said they wanted to give themselves to me?” Chapter 4 I was stuffed into his red Ferrari supercar by Archer. Don’t know if he was anxious to go home, the car roared away instantly. “Asher, how come I never knew you had a brother who looks exactly like you?” Archer steered with one hand. Face full of carelessness. “Mn. Although twins, interests and everything are completely different. Don’t take today’s words to heart…” I lowered my head and actively kissed his side profile, voice muffled: “Just weirdly annoying, having the same face as you, but saying such words…” Archer raised his hand to touch my lips. Just about to kiss over. I pushed him. “Still in the car, drive properly.” A thirty-minute drive was compressed into fifteen minutes by him. Just closed the door, I was pressed against the door by Archer, he captured my lips and kissed hard. He anxiously tried to undo my buttons. Suddenly a knock on the door. “Open up, I’m your brother.” It was Asher’s voice. Hearing this sentence, Archer got even more energetic. He kissed desperately hard and heavy. Covering my ears with both hands, not letting me hear. Only immersed in the pleasure with him. I was kissed breathless by him, wanted to push him away, but was treated ruthlessly by him. I tried desperately to catch a breath, but could only whimper. Outside became quiet instantly. Immediately followed by someone kicking and punching the door. Separated by a door. Archer kissed me to death. Outside the door, Asher’s eyes were red. “Archer Sterling, you substitute, do you really think you can replace me?” No one answered. After a long while, the person outside sneered: “She’s playing you, can’t you feel it?” Archer was like crazy tonight, no longer the gentle puppy from before, But transformed into a very aggressive hungry wolf. Not long after, he and I fell on the sofa. Three buttons undone, chest suddenly cold. I pushed him with the last shred of reason. “Seems like someone outside…” Archer took off the undershirt inside with one hand, threw it aside casually, and leaned over to kiss recklessly. “No one. Knocked on the wrong door.” I hugged his neck and met him. Tonight’s Archer was very strange. Like competing with someone. He was like a big dog with exploded fur. Especially anxious… The three-plus months with him. Although we didn’t take the last step, every time he would take special care of my feelings. Even if he endured until he was about to explode, he would take a two-hour cold shower with red ears. Then hold me, body scarily hot, but do nothing. But tonight he was different. How gentle he was before, how crazy he is now. I pressed his hand that continued downwards. The interrupted Archer looked up, looking at me dissatisfied with red eyes. “Not giving?” I raised my hand to touch his head, cupping his face. Laughed at him: “Then do you want it?” Archer’s body paused abruptly, whole body scarily hot. “You dare give, I dare take.” “Oh, you don’t want it.” Archer was anxious. With a block of his big hand, he easily caught me back into his arms. He picked up my legs, lying behind my ear. Speaking in a muffled voice: “Dreaming of wanting it…”

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I pulled a “Dare” card. The instruction was simple: French kiss a guy in the room. I chose the Valedictorian. But he just sat there, frozen, not making a move to stand up. His jaw tightened as he looked at me. “I’m sorry. Now isn’t a good time.” Suddenly, a row of floating text—like a Twitch live stream chat—scrolled across my vision: [Of course it’s not a good time. The Heroine is sitting right next to him. No way he kisses the Villainess in front of her.] [Just wait for the next round. When the Heroine gets a dare to kiss him, he’ll pounce on her. Tongue and all. The contrast is going to be brutal.] [Wait until the Villainess starts crying and begging like a desperate loser. It’s going to be hilarious.] I didn’t want to be a joke. I forced a smile. “If it’s not a good time, forget it. I’ll pick someone else.” 1 The room went dead silent. Someone whispered, “What’s going on, Harper? Isn’t Ethan your boyfriend?” “Yeah, did you guys get into a fight?” “Everyone knows he’s obsessed with you. Remember when your promise ring fell into the campus fountain? He waded in there in the middle of winter to find it.” “Forget it, it’s just a game. Just take a shot and move on. Couples fight all the time.” Ethan stared at me, his dark eyes filled with anxiety. “Harper, are you mad?” I pressed my lips together. “No.” I poured myself a drink. Ethan hadn’t technically cheated, and I wasn’t going to grab some random guy just to prove a point. Since I failed the dare, I had to take a shot of tequila as punishment. Ethan reached out, poured a full glass for himself, and said, “This round was my fault. I’ll take the punishment.” He tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and downed the liquor without flinching. The game continued. I kept my expression neutral, pretending Ethan’s rejection didn’t sting. But inside, my chest felt tight, acidic. I couldn’t focus. I kept analyzing those floating comments. Who is the Heroine? Just then, a sophomore named Bella pulled a Dare card. She raised her hand timidly. “Um… I think I also got the ‘Kiss a guy’ card.” She scanned the room, her doe-eyes landing wetly on Ethan. “Ethan… you’re the only guy I really know here. Can you help me out?” Everyone held their breath, eyes darting between me and her. It was a classic showdown. The floating chat went wild: [Yes! My baby is so brave! Finally making her move.] [The Villainess is about to go full Karen and shove our girl. Then Ethan will defend Bella and make Harper apologize. It’s gonna be so sweet.] [Isn’t this a bit messy? Harper is still his girlfriend.] [Oh shut up. Harper is just a side character. Ethan doesn’t actually love her. Later when they break up, Harper threatens to jump off a roof and Ethan literally tells her to ‘do a flip’.] My palms went cold. I wasn’t going to cause a scene and shove Bella. But I wanted to see Ethan’s reaction. Ethan frowned at Bella. “I thought everyone made it clear. I have a girlfriend.” Bella bit her lip, looking around. No one else stepped up. Her eyes welled up with tears. “I… I’m allergic to alcohol. Ethan, if you can’t kiss me, can you at least take the penalty shot for me?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. He looked at me. “Harper, is that okay? I’ll only do it if you say so.” The chat was dumbfounded: [Am I seeing this right? Why is the Main Character asking the Villainess for permission?] [Why isn’t he kissing Bella? Is this really a romance novel?] [Relax guys. He’s just being polite. Even if Harper says no, he’ll do it. It’ll just make Harper look worse.] I clenched my fists under the table, feigning calm. “Up to you.” Part of me hoped he would refuse. But Ethan’s eyes dimmed. He picked up the glass and downed the shot for Bella. My heart gave a painful lurch. I tried to rationalize it. Don’t be jealous. He only drank it because she’s allergic. But the chat kept hammering me: [See? He cares! He wouldn’t let Bella suffer.] [He’s playing it cool, but look closer. In the darkness, he’s already… excited.] [He wants Bella so bad. He refused to stand up earlier because he was trying to hide his boner.] My stomach dropped. Ethan was aroused? By Bella? I looked down. My gaze involuntarily drifted to his lap. There was a definite tent in his jeans. My blood ran cold. Physiological reactions don’t lie. Ethan took the punishment for Bella because he wanted her. The game went on, but I was done. I just wanted to escape. The chat gleefully predicted the next scene: [Spoiler alert: Tonight, the Heroine draws the ‘Go to a hotel with a guy’ card.] [Ethan is a possessive jealous type. He won’t let Bella go with anyone else. He’ll drag her out of there himself.] I dug my nails into my palms. Beside me, my cousin Carter patted my shoulder. “You okay?” I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Carter and I kept our family relation low-key on campus; nobody here knew we were cousins. Carter pulled a card. His smile faded. [Take any girl in the room to a hotel. Send a selfie from the room to the group chat.] The room erupted in laughter. It was too extreme. The chat text flashed red: [Alert! After this, Bella draws the hotel card!] [Harper is going to try and make Ethan jealous by volunteering, but Ethan won’t care. He’s saving his energy for Bella.] Carter was about to reach for the bottle to take the penalty. I grabbed his wrist. “You have a stomach ulcer, remember? No alcohol.” I stood up. “I’ll go to the hotel with you.” Carter blinked. “What?” Before he could protest, I dragged him up. He was used to spoiling me, so he just went along with it. I walked out of the party with another man, leaving my boyfriend behind. Ethan’s pupils constricted. He shot up from his seat. “Harper!” But Bella jumped in front of him, blocking his path, eyes teary. “Ethan, don’t go! I don’t know anyone else here. If you leave, I’ll be scared. The game isn’t over yet…” My heart shattered. I dragged Carter out the door without looking back. The chat was furious: [What is the Villainess doing? She’s supposed to stay and make a scene!] [Why is she leaving with a random guy? Who is going to push the plot forward?] [Wait, Ethan actually pushed Bella aside and ran after her!] [Don’t worry. He’s just mad she’s embarrassing him. He’s definitely going to hook up with Bella later to get even.] I got into Carter’s car and told him to drive. Fast. 2 In the car, I sent Ethan a text: [Let’s break up.] Then, I blocked his number on everything. Done. I felt drained. “What happened?” Carter asked, glancing at me. “I thought you two were solid.” I fought back tears. “Nothing. Just… suddenly stopped liking him.” “Because of a game?” “Yeah. Because of a game.” Carter sighed. “Are you sure? You chased that guy for two years. You’re just going to walk away?” I gripped my phone. Yeah. That was Ethan. The guy I spent two years trying to seduce. He was the Math Department’s genius, the heir to the Jiang conglomerate, the guy whose candid photos broke the internet. And in private? He was painfully polite. We only slept together for the first time last night. I was all over him, tracing his abs, teasing him. Even when he was hovering over me, shirt off, eyes red with desire, he still asked, “Harper, I want you. Is that okay?” I had whispered, “You’re already naked, just do it.” Tears rolled down my face now. So, was that all a lie? Did he only sleep with me because the “Heroine” received a love letter from someone else, and he wanted to make her jealous? Was I just practice? I pieced the story together from the floating comments. I am the Villainess in a sweet romance novel. Bella is the Heroine. She apparently saved Ethan’s dad from a heart attack once, so the family adores her. According to the plot, my jealousy pushes Ethan into her arms. After graduation, I become obsessed. I stalk him. I get caught by a security guard who drags me into the bushes and assaults me. Ethan and Bella see it happen, and Ethan covers Bella’s eyes, calling me “dirty.” Eventually, I end my own life. My parents die in a car crash from the grief. Hell no. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I wasn’t destroying my life for a man. Better to cut him loose now. 3 Carter and I obviously didn’t hook up. We faked a photo in a hotel lobby, posted it to the group chat, and he dropped me off at my dorm. My roommate gasped when I walked in. “Harper! Your mascara… are you okay?” I looked in the mirror. I looked like a raccoon. I had dressed up tonight specifically to look good for Ethan. Now, I was a mess. “We broke up,” I muttered. My roommate didn’t pry. “His loss. You’re a catch. I’m heading to the dining hall, want me to grab you a burger?” I nodded, grateful. When she left, I opened my shopping app and deleted the items in my cart. After last night, I had been excited. I wanted to try new things. I had even shown him the app: Bunny tail? Handcuffs? Body chains? You pick. He had blushed, his voice raspy. Don’t rush. If you like them, we can try them all. Slowly. Well, no need for that now. My phone rang. Unknown number. I hung up. It rang again. I answered. “Harper, where are you?” It was Ethan. He sounded breathless, like he was running. I wiped my eyes. “Didn’t you see the photo in the group chat?” “Harper, don’t do this. I’m coming to find you.” I laughed bitterly. “Why? Bringing condoms?” Silence on the other end. The anger from the chat logs bubbled up. He used me? Okay, two can play at that game. “You know, Ethan, I never really liked you that much. I just wanted to see what it was like to sleep with the ‘Ice Prince’. Now that I have… meh. Honestly? You were terrible in bed. I didn’t feel a thing last night. I’m moving on to someone who knows what they’re doing.” I hung up. I lay on my bed, arm over my eyes. It was truly over. 4 The next morning, I saw him in our elective class. I used to take this class just to stare at the back of his head. Now, realizing his family’s power—he could probably get me expelled—and remembering I told him he was bad in bed, I was terrified. I snuck in late, sat in the back row, and bolted the second the bell rang. I couldn’t escape Carter, though. He cornered me near the library. “Harper, you ruined me! I went to that party to find a girlfriend. Now everyone thinks we hooked up. I’m socially dead.” “Sorry,” I winced. “How can I fix it?” “Buy me those new Jordans. I have a game next week.” “Fine.” The basketball game. Ethan would be playing too. They were rivals. I had originally planned to buy Ethan shoes for the game. Wednesday afternoon, I went to the mall. I was taking photos of sneakers for Carter when I heard a familiar, annoying giggle. Bella and her friend Chloe. Bella was holding a latte, glancing at me, then whispering to Chloe. “Bella, why are we in the men’s section?” Chloe asked loudly. Bella blushed. “Well, that guy saved me from the dare the other night. I want to buy him shoes to say thanks.” The chat floated above their heads: [Wait, didn’t Ethan chase after Harper? He didn’t save Bella.] [Ugh, stop talking about the Villainess. She ruined the moment. She deserves what’s coming to her.] Bella picked up a pair. “My debit card is linked to Ethan’s dad’s account. He insists I use it. I think he really wants me and Ethan together.” She glanced at me. I ignored her and went to the register with Carter’s shoes. Bella cut in line. “I’m in a hurry.” She slapped a black card on the counter. Chloe gasped. “How much is on that?” “Ten times the average tuition,” Bella bragged. The cashier swiped it. Then swiped it again. “Miss? This card is frozen. Declined.” Bella’s face went pale. “Impossible. Try it again.” “It’s declined, Miss. Please step aside.” I stepped up and paid for my shoes. Bella grabbed my arm as I left the store. “Who are those for? You’re still buying things for Ethan? Have some dignity.” “None of your business,” I snapped, yanking my arm back. “Stay away from him,” she hissed. Then, she ‘tripped’ and dumped her hot latte all over my brand-new box of sneakers. The brown liquid soaked through the cardboard instantly. “Oops! Slippery hands,” she smirked. “Consider it a favor. Ethan wouldn’t want your charity anyway.” I saw red. I grabbed her wrist. “Apologize.” “Ow! You’re hurting me! I said it was an accident!” I didn’t argue. I grabbed the half-empty cup from her hand and poured the rest of the dregs directly onto her white shoes. Bella screamed. “Harper! You psycho!” She started crying loudly, attracting a crowd. “You already cheated on him! Why are you bullying me? Just because Ethan likes me?” A sleek black Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb. The driver opened the door. Ethan stepped out. He looked like a runway model in a long black coat, radiating cold, expensive energy.

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I was beaten and crippled by the school bully. My mother, a star attorney, became the defendant’s counsel. In court, her words were a masterclass in manipulation. She secured an acquittal for the boy who nearly killed me. All because his father was the benefactor who had funded her college education. When I confronted her, she was defiant. “Everyone is equal before the law, Karl. I can’t compromise my professional ethics just because you’re the victim.” “Jay was just being impulsive. I couldn’t bear to see his life ruined.” Watching the monster who did this to me walk out of the courthouse, a free man, I laughed. I pulled the disownment papers I had already prepared from my bag and threw them in her face. “Since you’re so ethical, so dedicated to repaying your debts,” I said, “I hope you’re prepared to defend what’s left of your own life.” … My mother didn’t even look at the papers. To her, this was just another teenage tantrum. “Karl, have you made enough of a scene?” She picked up the papers, crumpled them without a glance, and tossed them into a nearby trash can. “Mr. Grant is hosting a thank-you dinner at The Grandview tonight. You’re coming with me.” “Jay will be there. It’s a perfect opportunity for him to apologize to you, and we can all put this behind us.” I stared at her in disbelief. Put it behind us? I was still in a wheelchair. The man who put me here had just walked free. And she wanted me to attend his victory party? “I’m not going.” The words were cold and final. I turned my wheelchair to leave. My mother’s voice followed, tight with anger. “Karl! Can you stop being so petty?” “The Grants aren’t well off. This dinner cost Mr. Grant half a month’s salary.” “If you don’t go, you’re disrespecting me, and you’re disrespecting him!” I didn’t look back. I wheeled myself away as fast as I could, escaping the suffocating presence of the courthouse. Outside, the bright sun made me dizzy. My father’s car was parked by the curb. He saw me and hurried over, his face a mask of nervous deference. “Karl, how did it go? Did they sentence him?” Looking at this man, a doormat his entire life, I felt a wave of helplessness. “He was acquitted. Not guilty.” My father stood there, mouth agape, speechless. “How could… your mother said it was just a formality.” “She said she’d get Jay a suspended sentence. How could he be acquitted?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Dad, your wife is a star attorney.” “If she wants someone to walk, they walk.” “Even if that person broke her own son’s leg.” My father wrung his hands, his anxiety palpable. “But… but… she must have her reasons.” “That man, Mr. Grant, he really did help her…” “Enough,” I cut him off. “Take me to the hospital. I’m not going home.” My father hesitated, glancing back at the courthouse entrance. “Well… your mother just texted. She said we should go straight to The Grandview.” “She said if we don’t, she’ll cancel my credit card.” I looked at the man before me. Fifty years old, and he lived like a dog. My mother controlled every penny. He didn’t even dare to raise his voice. “Then you can go.” I took out my phone and ordered a wheelchair-accessible rideshare. “I’ll go by myself.” “Karl! Don’t be like this…” My father reached for me, but I shook him off. “Dad, if you still consider me your son, don’t go to that dinner.” “If you go, then don’t bother visiting me ever again.” The car arrived. The driver helped me get in. Through the window, I saw my father standing on the sidewalk, torn. Finally, he sighed, turned, and got into his own car. He drove in the direction of The Grandview. I closed my eyes, and the tears finally came. This was my family. A mother with a twisted martyr complex, and a weak, spineless father. And I was the disposable sacrifice. At the hospital, as soon as I got settled, my phone started buzzing. Jay had posted a nine-photo collage on social media. In the pictures, he was holding a glass of champagne, his face flushed with victory. My mother sat at the head of the table, smiling with serene elegance. The caption read: “Thanks, Aunt Susan. Justice may be delayed, but it is never denied! Cheers!” Justice? To hell with his justice. I opened the comments. They were filled with fawning praise from Jay’s cronies. “Jay is the man!” “Susan is a legal legend!” “Where’s the cripple? Didn’t he show up to toast you?” Jay’s reply: “Probably crying at home, hahaha.” I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling. Suddenly, a new notification popped up. A money transfer from my mother. Amount: $300. Note: “Stop sulking. Buy yourself something nice to eat. I told Mr. Grant he doesn’t have to pay your medical bills. They’re having a tough time, we need to be understanding.” I stared at the words, my stomach churning. I wanted to vomit. I threw the phone against the wall. I was in the hospital for three days. My mother never visited. But Mr. Grant did, carrying a basket of bruised, rotting apples. He stood at the door in his dusty work clothes, a folksy grin on his face. “Karl, my boy. Uncle’s here to see you.” He placed the apples on the nightstand and rubbed his calloused hands together. “My Jay, he doesn’t know his own strength. A bit rough.” “I gave him a good talking to.” “And look, your mom got him off the hook. So we’re even now, right?” Even? I looked at the basket of apples, probably salvaged from a dumpster, and laughed. “My leg is worth a basket of rotten apples?” Mr. Grant’s expression flickered, but he quickly pasted the smile back on. “Now, Karl, don’t talk like that.” “When your mom went to college, I scraped that money together, penny by penny.” “You gotta have a conscience. Look how sensible your mother is.” “Besides, your family’s loaded. You’re not hurting for a little medical money, are you?” “My Jay needs to get married. He can’t be saddled with debt.” In that moment, I finally understood the meaning of “shameless.” This family was a pack of vampires. And my mother was the fool who not only offered them her neck but complained that they weren’t drinking fast enough. “Get out,” I said, pointing to the door. “Take your rotten apples and get out.” The smile finally slid off Mr. Grant’s face. “What’s with the attitude, kid?” “No wonder Jay beat you up. You’re asking for it.” He stalked out, muttering curses, and spat on the floor on his way out. I pressed the call button for the nurse and asked someone to disinfect the room. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. That afternoon, the head nurse came in with a bill. She didn’t look happy. “Karl, your account is overdue.” “If you don’t make a payment, we’ll have to stop your medication.” I was stunned. “Overdue? My mother… Susan Cole didn’t pay?” The nurse shook her head. “Ms. Cole was here yesterday. She requested a refund of the fifty-thousand-dollar deposit.” “She said… she said the other family was in financial trouble, and she was lending them the money to help out.” “She said you’d have to figure it out yourself.” CRACK. The last thread of my sanity snapped. She refunded my life-saving medical deposit… to give to the man who assaulted me? Is that something a mother does? With trembling hands, I borrowed the nurse’s phone and called her. It rang for a long time before she picked up. I could hear the clatter of mahjong tiles and my mother’s cheerful laughter in the background. “Hello? Who’s this?” “It’s me.” The line went quiet for a moment. Then, her voice, laced with annoyance. “Karl? Where’s your phone? Why are you calling from a strange number?” “Susan, did you refund my medical deposit?” I used her first name. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?” she snapped, her voice rising. “The Grants are buying a house in the city and were a little short on the down payment.” “I figured you weren’t spending much in the hospital, so I let them use it for now.” “Don’t you have your own savings? Use that.” “You can’t be so selfish. You have to help people in need.” Help people in need? She was breaking my bones to keep someone else warm. “That was my surgery money!” I roared into the phone. “The doctor said I need a second reconstructive surgery next week, or I’ll be permanently disabled!” “You gave that money to the Grants to buy a house? Are you insane?” I could hear Mr. Grant’s voice in the background. “Oh, Susan, if Karl needs it urgently, we can wait on the house…” Then my mother’s firm reply. “Don’t listen to him, Mr. Grant. He’s just being dramatic.” “Doctors always exaggerate. It’s not that serious.” “Buying a house is a big deal. Jay is about to start dating. How can he do that without a house?” “Karl, figure it out yourself. Stop bothering me.” Beep, beep, beep… She hung up. I stood there, phone in hand, frozen. The head nurse looked at me with pity. “Karl… maybe you should call your father?” My father? The man who had to ask his wife for cigarette money? I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it.” “Please, just process my discharge papers.” “But your leg…” “I’m not getting it fixed.” If the world was this rotten, then I didn’t need to pretend to be the good son anymore. I went home one last time. While no one was there, I packed up everything that was mine. I left nothing but the disownment papers. My sneaker collection, my limited-edition figures, the gold bars I’d been saving since I was a child. I sold it all on secondhand marketplaces. Deep discounts. Cash only. With that money, I rented a small, accessible apartment in the next city over. Then I checked myself into a private orthopedic hospital. I’d missed the optimal window for treatment, but the doctor said that with enough money, there was still hope I could walk normally again. But no more intense physical activity. I used to be the captain of the school basketball team. Now, I was a cripple who couldn’t even walk without a limp. But I didn’t cry. I had run out of tears that afternoon.

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Two months into my roommate catfishing someone online with my photos, a stream of bullet comments scrolled across the edge of my vision: 【The male lead has already rejected the female lead’s invitation to meet up three times.】 【He can’t help it. He’s using his roommate’s photos to date her online. He’s so average-looking and insecure, he doesn’t dare take that step to meet in person.】 【Don’t worry, male lead. As soon as you meet her and explain the situation, she’ll forgive you. Then the rest of the book is just sweet, sweet romance. Friendly reminder—the female lead is a gorgeous, loaded heiress.】 Before the comments finished scrolling, my roommate, Ryan, peeked his head down from the top bunk, showing off with a smug grin. “Leo, my girlfriend just sent me more money!” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Man, having a girlfriend this rich… I hope you guys don’t get too jealous.” I raised an eyebrow. The girlfriend he got using my photos? Well, starting now, she’s my girlfriend. 1 A phone dangled in front of my face. I could clearly see the screen: a transfer for one thousand dollars. The memo read: 【For my darling hubby to order some takeout.】 Only after he was sure I’d seen the amount did Ryan Cole pull his phone back, hastily tapping “accept.” He then sent a voice message. 【Thanks for feeding me, wifey.】 The bullet comments started scrolling again, faster this time: 【OMG, their love story is so cute. They haven’t even met, but their romance is so sweet. The classic domineering CEO and the clueless college guy trope.】 【It’s been two months. When are they finally going to meet?】 【He really shouldn’t worry so much about his looks. The female lead might be a little surprised at first, but she gets over it fast.】 【Don’t rush him, he’s trying to lose weight! He’s planning to meet her after he loses another fifteen pounds.】 Fifteen pounds? I glanced up at Ryan’s back as he sat on his bunk, stuffing his face with snacks. Two months ago, on a whim, he’d stood in the middle of our dorm room and sworn he would finally lose weight. For the first few days, he barely ate and went for a run every evening, returning to the room panting and drenched in sweat. Unfortunately, that lasted all of three days. One night, starving and miserable, he caved at the smell of fried chicken and devoured an entire bucket. His diet ended in failure. In fact, thanks to the binge eating, he’d actually gained five pounds, pushing him past the two-hundred-pound mark. I changed into a crisp white casual outfit. The tailored fit made the man in the mirror look sharp and effortlessly handsome. Then, I asked casually, “Have you and your girlfriend met yet?” 2 The bullet comments seemed annoyed: 【Why is the camera on the villain? So what if he’s handsome?】 【Exactly. Even though the male lead is using his photos, our female lead isn’t shallow. A person’s inner qualities are what’s important.】 The comments were a dense, scrolling wall of text. It was only then that I understood. I was the villain in a sappy romance novel. In the story, the male lead uses my photos to date the female lead. When they finally meet, she’s initially shocked that he looks nothing like his pictures, but she quickly accepts reality and they begin their “sweet romance.” To prove that she loves him for his personality and not his looks, she even goes out of her way to destroy my family’s company. In the end, penniless and alone, I starve to death in a rented attic room. The main couple’s love, having been “tested,” becomes stronger than ever. No one gives a second thought to the stepping stone—me—who got crushed in the path of their love story. But wait. If looks don’t matter, why didn’t Ryan just use his own photo? Up on his bunk, his body tensed. “We haven’t met,” he mumbled, “but we’ve exchanged pictures.” He then added defensively, “Leo, don’t tell me you’re jealous I have such a rich girlfriend?” He let out another sigh, dripping with condescension. “It’s a shame, really. You’re so much better looking than me, and your family’s well off, but you still can’t land a girl with money.” I styled my hair in the mirror, unfazed. “Why would I be jealous?” “It would be great if you could bring her around to meet all of us sometime.” Ryan choked on his words, changing the subject. He looked me up and down, a flash of envy in his eyes. “Hey Leo, take a selfie and send it to me.” Afraid I’d refuse, he quickly added, “I… I just wanted to have a photo of my roommate, you know, for the memories.” I agreed without hesitation. “Sure, one second.” As soon as he got the photo, Ryan curled up on his bunk like a rolly-poly. He immediately sent the picture to the person he was chatting with. 【Just took a new selfie. How do I look?】 3 A flurry of notification chimes echoed from his phone, signaling the other person’s excitement. So much for not caring about looks. I glanced at the bullet comments one last time. 【Sigh, when will he ever get over his insecurity? He sent the villain’s selfie again.】 【She really doesn’t care what you look like! You’ll see when you meet her.】 【I remember this part of the plot. Later, when the villain finds out, he can’t stand the thought of letting such a rich and beautiful girl go. He actually runs to the female lead and says, ‘I’m the guy in the photos!’】 【And you know what happens? His pathetic, desperate attempts to get between them just make their relationship stronger.】 【Haha, the female lead is the sole heiress to the Walton Corporation. You think she’d be shallow enough to only care about looks? The villain totally deserves to get taught a lesson and starve to death. He’s nothing but a stepping stone for their love.】 I absorbed the key information from the comments. Heiress to the Walton Corporation, huh? Noted. But we’ll see who the real stepping stone is. It was Saturday, no classes. As I was leaving the dorm, Ryan asked offhandedly, “No class today. Where are you off to?” A smile played on my lips. “Met a really nice girl recently. Going to see her.” 4 The Walton Corporation headquarters wasn’t hard to find. On the way over, I’d already found pictures of Fiona Walton online. There were only a few, all low-resolution, but they couldn’t hide the smooth line of her jaw or her elegant, high-bridged nose. She really was a gorgeous, loaded heiress. My finger traced the outline of her smiling face on my phone screen. I set it down, my knuckles tapping lightly on the tabletop. The cup of coffee beside me had gone cold. My seat in the café had a direct view of the Walton Corp entrance. It seemed the bullet comments were tethered to Ryan’s perspective; they had no idea where I was. Right now, they were buzzing. 【Even though the female lead is so busy, she still makes time to chat with him. This is the kind of doting love story I live for.】 【It’s almost evening. She has to go to dinner, or she’d keep talking to him.】 【Ugh, just meet already! I can’t wait any longer!】 I straightened up, my eyes glued to the entrance of the building. A stream of well-dressed men and women poured out. Among them, Fiona Walton was a standout. The moment she appeared, heads turned. I had to admit, Ryan had good taste. He’d found me… a very nice girlfriend. I quickly got up and left the café. Just as I was about to pass the fast-walking Fiona, I deliberately brushed against her shoulder. She stumbled, losing her balance and starting to fall. On instinct, I reached out, my arm wrapping around her slim waist to steady her. Our eyes met. A look of delighted surprise crossed her face. “It’s you!” 5 I quickly helped her regain her footing and let go, a faint blush creeping up my cheeks as I looked down. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice sincere. “I’m in a hurry, so I was walking a bit too fast. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” My eyes held the perfect mix of alarm and concern. Nothing else. I didn’t recognize her. That realization seemed to throw Fiona off for a moment, but she quickly found an explanation. He had only sent her a few photos, most of them taken from a distance. It was understandable that he wouldn’t recognize her after a sudden, real-life encounter. But she recognized me. Ever since they’d met on the app and exchanged numbers, ‘Star Gazer’ had frequently sent her selfies. In every photo, the man had a brilliant smile, a great physique, and a gentle, stylish wardrobe that made him look sunny and handsome. Unfortunately, she had suggested meeting up three times, and each time, ‘Star Gazer’ had refused without a second thought. He wouldn’t even tell her which university he attended. For countless nights, her only comfort was scrolling through his pictures. She never expected fate to be so kind as to let her run into the man from her dreams. Seeing the undisguised admiration in her eyes, I hid a smile and feigned anxiety. “Miss, I just finished my part-time job and I’m trying to get back to Northwood University. If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss the last bus.” Without waiting for her reply, I turned and walked away, disappearing into the growing darkness. Fiona reached out to stop me but grasped only empty air. Her gaze followed my retreating figure, her lips silently repeating the words. Northwood University. 6 By the time I got back to the dorm, the sky was full of stars. The bullet comments were once again gushing over the sweet romance. 【Wow, the female lead is especially chatty today. She can’t stop talking to him.】 【Yeah, and she keeps asking if he’s tired. Haha, little does she know, our boy Ryan has been lying in bed all day.】 【She just sent him a thousand dollars this morning, and now she sent another thousand, saying she’s worried he’s working too hard.】 【This girl is seriously loaded.】 Just as I pushed the door open, Ryan was climbing down from his bunk. Seeing me, he raised his voice, a mixture of complaint and showing off. “Ugh, why did she send me more money? How am I ever going to spend all of this?” “Oh, Leo, you’re back? Perfect timing. Help me pick out a watch. Which one should I get?” As he spoke, he stared intently at me, searching for any sign of jealousy. He found none. I enthusiastically pointed to a model encrusted with diamonds. “Get that one. It’s a classic design, very versatile.” Ryan nodded, satisfied. As he placed the order, he asked nonchalantly, “So, how was that girl you met today?” I answered slowly, “She was nice.” “Nice?” He scoffed, glancing at my empty hands. “She didn’t even buy you a gift? You’re still going to see someone that cheap?” “My girlfriend is way better. She never hesitates to send money.” Ever since we started college, from the first moment Ryan saw me, he’d made it his mission to compete with me. Academics, looks, family background—he lost on every front. So, he turned his attention to dating apps, hoping to snag a rich girl and finally one-up me. Landing Fiona had been a massive boost to his ego. After his little display, Ryan climbed back onto his bunk and started tapping furiously at his phone screen. My other roommate, Jake, came over and tugged on my arm, rolling his eyes at the giggling figure above us. “Don’t mind him,” he whispered. “Ever since he got this rich girlfriend, he’s been insufferable. It’s so annoying.” “So how’s the girl you met? Are you seeing her again tomorrow?” Ryan, oblivious, was still sending voice messages. “My wifey is the best!” “Love you, mwah!” A knowing smile touched my lips. Of course I was seeing her tomorrow. Otherwise, someone might get impatient. 7 The next day was Sunday. No classes. I was up early, getting ready to head out. As soon as I stepped out of the university gates, I saw a luxury car parked at the entrance. It was Fiona’s. Perhaps not wanting to cause a scene with the few students walking by, she got out of the car to wait. Her stunning appearance drew more than a few stares. She saw me and waved from a distance. I walked over, feigning confusion. She smiled. “I bumped into you yesterday, so I wanted to apologize properly today. Can I give you a ride to your part-time job?” I was the one who bumped into her, but she was taking the blame, using it as a flimsy excuse to talk to me. “That… that’s not necessary,” I hesitated. “I can just take the bus.” Fiona had already opened the passenger door for me. “It’s no problem. My office isn’t far from where you work. It’s on the way.” After a moment’s pause, I got into the car, trying to look awkward and flustered. Fiona seemed to be in a good mood. With one hand on the steering wheel, she asked with a hint of curiosity, “The workload at Northwood is pretty heavy. Why are you working a part-time job on the weekends?” I tilted my head, giving her a playful smile. “My parents want me to learn to be independent, so my allowance isn’t very big. I’m just trying to make a little extra cash.” The confusion on her face deepened. She had just sent me two thousand dollars in one day. How could I possibly be short on money? But she didn’t press the issue. The car pulled up in front of a coffee shop. It was the job I had found just yesterday. I went behind the counter and, under the manager’s guidance, started grinding coffee beans. Fiona didn’t leave. She took a seat at the table closest to the counter and ordered an iced Americano. I brought the coffee to her table with a smile. Suddenly, she asked, “The… ahem… the Patek Philippe watch I sent you. Why aren’t you wearing it?” 8 I remembered that watch. The first week after Ryan announced he had a girlfriend, he received a luxury watch. He was obsessed with it, turning it over and over in his hands. He’d even sent a saccharine voice message: “Baby, I’ll wear it forever.” And indeed, the watch was still firmly on his wrist. But what did any of that have to do with me? I shook my head, feigning confusion. “What watch? I’ve never owned a watch.” Fiona froze. A few drops of coffee splashed onto the back of her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice. I turned and went back to the counter to grind more beans. The rich aroma of coffee filled the air. A burning gaze was fixed on my back, unmoving. She downed the coffee in one gulp. I suddenly turned back to her, a faint smile on my face. “Miss, would you like a refill on that iced Americano?” Caught off guard, Fiona’s eyes darted away. “Uh… yes… a refill…” she stammered. I refilled her cup and brought it back. As she took it, Fiona looked at me, a sudden realization dawning on her. My voice was nothing like the one in the voice messages. The man in front of her had a cooler, clearer tone, while the voice she chatted with was deeper, more muffled. His personality seemed different, too. The man in front of her was shyer, more reserved than the one in the messages. Her eyes fell on the name tag pinned to my shirt. Her voice rose an octave. “Your name is Leo Beckett?” That wasn’t right. The guy in her messages was named Ryan Cole. 9 Fiona quickly opened her messaging app and tapped on Ryan Cole’s profile. Yes. All the photos were of the man standing in front of her. Every smile, every expression, was etched into her memory. But there were so many differences. Personality, voice, even his name. As she hesitated, a new message popped up on her screen: 【Fifi, what are you doing? Thinking of you today, like every day.】 Fiona’s gaze shot back to me. I was looking at her with a gentle, questioning smile. My phone was nowhere in sight. So, who was sending her messages? Fiona’s hands began to tremble. “Miss, are you alright?” I asked, my voice full of concern. Fiona suppressed the suspicion rising in her chest. “I’m fine, I just…” I turned and brought her a freshly made cappuccino. “I just made this. Please, have a taste. It’s on me.” As she took the cup, her fingers brushed against mine. They were as hot as burning coals. The brief contact left her wanting more. She drank the coffee like it was water, gulping it down. The bitterness was gone, replaced by the sweet, creamy taste of milk that filled her mouth. She had already had three cups of coffee today. Her mind was sharp. Seeing that I was about to leave, Fiona jumped up and pulled out her phone. “Mr. Beckett, can I have your number?” Her gaze was intense. I hesitated for a moment before taking out my phone to add her as a contact. She thoughtfully typed in her own name for me— Fiona Walton. 10 Fiona was very active over the next week. She was always finding excuses to chat with me on the app, and we talked about everything under the sun. Every conversation ended with both of us wanting more. But, as she had said, my studies at Northwood were demanding. I often wouldn’t see her morning messages until late at night. Yet, the moment I replied, she would respond instantly, as if she’d been waiting by her phone all day. It was a busy week for me. For Ryan, who slept in the bunk across from mine, it was a week of growing anxiety. He was constantly on his phone, furiously typing. But after he sent a message, there was no satisfying chime of a reply. He grew more and more agitated. Even the bullet comments were confused. 【What’s up with the female lead these past few days? Why is she ignoring him?】 【Yeah, Ryan has sent her a bunch of messages and she’s barely replied.】 【Come on, she runs a huge company. She has to make money to spoil him, right? She can’t be available 24/7.】 This went on until Saturday, the day of my part-time job. But I didn’t leave campus. Instead, I slept in, enjoying a rare, long rest. Around ten in the morning, a message came through. Fiona: 【Leo, you didn’t go to the coffee shop this morning?】 Me: 【I caught a bit of a cold, so I called in sick. Is everything okay, Miss Walton?】 Fiona’s fingers paused over her screen. She quickly typed a reply, trying to sound casual. 【Oh, it’s nothing. I was just passing by your university and thought I’d give you a ride to work.】 She was lying. She had clearly been waiting all morning and hadn’t seen me. The Walton Corporation and Northwood University were on opposite ends of the city. There was no way she was just “passing by.” I didn’t reply to that message. Instead, I got out of bed, tidied myself up, and took a selfie. I made sure to look pitiful and lethargic. The caption read: 【Caught a cold. Feeling awful.】 11 Shortly after I posted it, Jake rubbed his sleepy eyes and asked, “Leo, you have a cold?” I sniffled. “A little one. It’s not too bad.” From his bunk, Ryan glanced at me, then started tapping away on his phone. The bullet comments erupted with laughter: 【Haha, the male lead is posting about being sick on purpose. Now the female lead will have to take a break from her busy schedule for him.】 【Poor guy. She hasn’t had any time for him all week.】 【Let me see… a month ago, he said he sprained his ankle running, and she got so worried she sent him a ton of supplements and a thousand dollars to ‘rest and recover.’】 【Too bad he had the packages delivered to a convenience store off-campus. He had to lug all those boxes back to the dorm himself.】 【I wonder what she’ll send this time!】 Fiona sat in the driver’s seat of her car, parked right outside the gates of Northwood University. On her phone, two identical posts appeared on her feed. Both were selfies of Leo. Both had the exact same caption. 【Caught a cold. Feeling awful.】 She carefully compared the two accounts. The content was identical. If it weren’t for the different profile pictures and names, she would have thought she was seeing double. But Fiona quickly noticed a pattern. Leo Beckett’s posts always appeared ten to fifteen minutes before Ryan Cole’s. Take the most recent post about being sick. Leo had posted it five minutes earlier. Her finger hovered between the two profiles. The image of the shy, gentle man from the coffee shop filled her mind. Without hesitation, she switched to Leo Beckett’s chat. She sent a message: 【Leo, I’m going to have some things sent over to you. Can you give me the address for your dorm building at Northwood?】 12 When the delivery driver brought a mountain of packages to our dorm, Jake was the first to pounce. “Whoa, Leo, is this all from your girlfriend?” “She’s not my girlfriend,” I quickly corrected him. “Just… a friend I met recently…” Jake slung an arm around my shoulder, a sly grin on his face. “Leo, last weekend, my buddy from the art department saw you getting picked up by a luxury car outside the main gate. He said the girl was gorgeous!” “Fess up. You’re secretly dating, aren’t you?” I thought of Fiona’s bright eyes and gentle demeanor, and my face immediately flushed. “We haven’t made anything official yet. Don’t spread rumors.” “She’s already picking you up! What do you mean, not official? My friend said that car was worth at least half a million dollars!” The mention of half a million dollars pricked Ryan’s ears. He shot me a disdainful look and snorted. “Tch. No matter how rich she is, she can’t be richer than my girlfriend.” Jake’s voice was just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Ryan, we still haven’t even seen your girlfriend!” Ryan froze. It was true. Not only had his roommates not seen her, he hadn’t either. A knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. Over the past week, Fiona had grown noticeably distant. She’d reply to maybe one out of every ten messages. Just a moment ago, he’d sent her a pitiful text: 【Fifi, I caught a cold. I feel so awful~】 That was two hours ago. The last message in their chat was still his green bubble. There was no sign of a reply. Even someone as dense as him could tell something was wrong. Was she mad because he’d turned her down three times? Ryan’s mood soured, and he gripped his phone tightly, his mind racing. Just then, my phone chimed. It was Fiona. 【Leo, are you free this evening? I’d like to treat you to dinner.】 A smile played on my lips as I replied: 【Sure. Whatever you arrange, Miss Walton.】 【Then let’s go to that new French restaurant, V.Chuchoter. See you there.】 The moment we confirmed the plans, an explosive message flashed across the bullet comments: 【OMG, OMG, LOOK! The male lead is finally going to meet her!】

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