My best friend lured me to that seedy club. There were fourteen other people in the private room. Fifteen including her. I don’t remember much after that. I just remember my broken, abused body being sent home. My dad’s hair turned gray overnight; my stepmom passed out cold. Kaelen somehow got the news. He snuck away from his doctors abroad and came back, deceiving everyone. Only our family of four knew the truth: Kaelen—the stepbrother my stepmom brought into the family—was completely unhinged. I floated as a spirit beside Kaelen, sticking close, desperate to see what he would do. He went to the morgue first to see me. His eyes were rimmed red, concealing a terrifying, overwhelming rage. Carefully, gently, he lifted my mangled hand and pressed it tight against his cheek. “Lily…” It was the first time he’d ever used my nickname. Before, he always impatiently called me “Nuisance.” I instinctively answered, then realized he couldn’t hear me. I awkwardly touched my nose. “Brother is going to avenge you.” “All fifteen of them. I won’t let a single one get away.” His venom-laced voice sent a tremor through my soul. When we were small, every time I trailed behind him calling “Brother,” he’d look annoyed: “Who’s your brother? Get lost!” After a while, I stopped calling him that. “Brother…” I zoned out for a second, and the next instant, Kaelen had already walked out. 1. Kaelen bought a razor-sharp hunting knife. First, he kidnapped the girl who tricked me. [Content redacted: Extreme violence] Then, he used her phone to invite the remaining fourteen people back to that club. Those fourteen had powerful parents who managed to get them out on bail during the investigation, which only made things easier for Kaelen. When they arrived at the club, laughing and joking, they were met with a nightmare scene and Kaelen, covered in blood. Everything I had suffered, Kaelen returned to them, one by one. When someone begged for mercy, crying out in pain, Kaelen just laughed coldly and grabbed their hair. “Did you ever stop to think that my sister felt pain when you did this to her?” Screams, begging, cursing, confessions… The chaotic chorus of voices sent all fifteen of them straight to hell together. Kaelen never planned to escape. By the time the bodies were discovered, he was already standing on the roof of the city’s tallest skyscraper. He stepped off the edge. “NO—” I screamed involuntarily, reaching out to grab the empty air. An instant later, sharp pain hit me, and I blacked out. When I opened my eyes, I saw my familiar canopy bed. Stunned, I walked to the mirror and touched my face. It was me at ten years old. 2. My dad, still having a full head of hair, pushed the door open. It was jarring to see; he went bald a few years later. “Lily, your brother Kaelen has arrived downstairs. Go down and say hello. You’ll be living together from now on.” I scrambled out of bed, not even bothering with shoes, and thundered down to the second-floor landing. Downstairs, a thin, sharp boy stood ramrod straight in the living room, looking up at us with a mix of disdain and intensity. I leaned over the railing, meeting his hostile gaze. Stepmom nudged him slightly. “Kaelen, say hello to your sister.” Kaelen tugged the corner of his mouth in a challenging smirk and slowly said, “Nuisance.” Dad and Stepmom’s faces dropped, but I ran down the stairs barefoot, pat-pat-pat, right up to Kaelen and hugged him fiercely around the waist. “Not a nuisance. I’m your sister.” I looked up, letting the tears stream down my face unchecked. “Brother, this time, I won’t let go of your hand no matter what.” 3. Kaelen was unstable. I knew this from the time he butchered that meat rabbit we bought for dinner. In my past life, when he came to our house, he was covered in thorns, pushing me away time and time again. When Kaelen came to pick me up from school, my classmates would laugh and scatter. “Song Lily, your psycho brother is here. Are you a psycho too?” My face would burn red with anger. I’d turn and see Kaelen’s frosty expression. He’d toss my backpack onto his back, hesitate, then stiffly reach out his hand to me. Slap! In my anger, I’d slap his hand away and run off. After running a bit, realized he wasn’t chasing me, I went back to find him. I saw him cornering the classmate who mocked me, hands around their neck. I hurried over to pull him off, terrified inside by this volatile brother. Thinking back now, I realize there was no real malice in Kaelen’s eyes then, and his hands weren’t applying pressure. It was just because that classmate insulted me behind my back, and Kaelen was warning him not to bully me again. Again and again, the rift between Kaelen and me grew deeper. Until Stepmom suggested sending him abroad for “treatment.” The family voted. Kaelen voted no. Dad and Stepmom voted yes. It was two against one. They just needed my vote for Kaelen to stay. But I deliberately avoided Kaelen’s hopeful gaze and turned to look at Stepmom. Whispering the words: “I agree.” The light in Kaelen’s eyes instantly extinguished. Thinking about it now, if Kaelen had stayed back then, those fifteen people would never have been able to hurt me later. Because I had the best brother in the world. 4. I held onto Kaelen tightly, refusing to let go. Kaelen’s hands hovered over my shoulders, wanting to push me away, but he hesitated. He craved a warm hug too, didn’t he? Kaelen’s face turned bright red. It took him ages to squeeze out a sentence: “Nuisance, are you trying to frame me for assault?” I burst out laughing, snot splattering onto his pristine white shirt. Mortified, I covered my face and ran off, but kept looking back at him. He looked down darkly at his soiled shirt, but slowly grabbed a pair of fluffy slippers from nearby and threw them at my feet. “Put them on!” Oh. I just realized I was still barefoot. I put on the slippers, turned back, and gave Dad a brilliant smile. “Dad, Stepmom, I really like Brother Kaelen!” Maybe now, they wouldn’t reject Kaelen so much and would treat him better? I was plotting how to make his life better, never expecting that the cold, hard teenager behind me had ears burning red. The frost was melted by the blazing sun; the boy’s thorns dissolved by an embrace.

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At thirty, I did something incredibly stupid. I kidnapped the young mistress Caleb Vance was keeping, trying to win back his heart. When he found out, he didn’t hesitate. In just a few days, he bankrupted my family’s company. My father’s life’s work was destroyed, his hair turning white overnight. My mother nearly went blind from crying. Now, Caleb was threatening to make my father kneel and beg for forgiveness, using his humiliation to force me to reveal the girl’s location. “Zoey, I spoiled you too much before. You don’t know your place!” “Since you made a mistake, I’m going to teach you a lesson!” As soon as he finished speaking, his bodyguards grabbed my father’s head and slammed it hard against the floor. In that moment, my heart felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand needles. 1 “Caleb Vance! That’s my father! He’s your elder! You can’t do this!!!” The pain in my eyes was excruciating, my voice hoarse and desperate. We dated for four years, married for eight. We had been part of each other’s lives for twelve years. I never thought our hearts would drift so far apart, that our love would end like this. Caleb grabbed my chin, forcing my head up, and said with a dark expression, “Where did you hide Lily?!” I wanted to fight back, but I was surrounded by his men. I choked back a sob and closed my eyes in pain. My willfulness had already cost my parents the business they spent their lives building. I couldn’t let them lose their dignity too. I bit my lower lip and met his gaze. “Let my parents go. Promise not to trouble them again, and I’ll tell you.” Caleb waved his hand, signaling the bodyguards to release them. Just as I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly grabbed my throat, slowly lifting me until my feet left the ground. Instantly, the feeling of suffocation spread through my body. I struggled instinctively, only to hear his cruel voice. “Zoey, did I give you too much respect?!” “Did you really think I’m that easy to talk to?” “I could find Lily in minutes. What right does someone like you have to negotiate with me?” “Crushing you is as simple as stepping on an ant, do you understand?” Fear and despair shrouded my heart. I stared at him intently, tears sliding unconsciously from the corners of my eyes. Even though I was terrified, I still managed to speak with difficulty: “Even so, you can’t hurt my parents!” “They are my family!” Hearing this, Caleb looked triggered, his face turning completely dark. The strength in his hand increased, as if he were going to strangle me the next second. But just as I was about to black out, Caleb let go. I gasped for air, my body trembling violently from extreme fear. In that fleeting moment, all my past with him flashed through my mind. Those loving memories intertwined, finally turning into a blade that pierced my heart. I couldn’t control it anymore and burst into tears. For the sudden death of love, for the hopeless marriage. And even more, for the loss of dignity in trying to save it all. Caleb stared at me coldly, radiating a violent aura. He stepped forward, roughly lifting my chin to make me look at him. “Tell me, where did you hide Lily?!” His tone was fierce, as if cruel punishment awaited me if I didn’t speak in the next second. “The countryside. She’s in the countryside.” In an instant, his anger turned to joy, and he swiftly left with his group. I knew. From this moment on, he was no longer my husband. No matter how much I loved him, I had to root him out of my heart. Even if it cost me half my life, I wouldn’t hesitate. 2 “Zoey, are you okay?” Mom hugged me tightly, her voice trembling with tears. I shook my head, sobbing and apologizing in self-reproach, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mom, Dad. If it weren’t for me, the family wouldn’t be like this, you wouldn’t have…” Dad held Mom and me in his arms, his aged voice choking up. “It’s not your fault. Our Zoey has suffered too.” I wiped my tears, my tone filled with determination. “Mom, Dad, I want to divorce Caleb.” “Okay. Nothing is more important than your happiness.” … Caleb and I fell in love in college. I fell for him at first sight. It took a long time of persistent pursuit to win him over. We got married right after graduation. Only after impulsively getting the marriage license did I learn his true identity. The eldest young master of the Vance family. He never said anything, so I always thought he was just a handsome, ordinary guy. After all, what rich young master would dress so plainly, even a bit shabbily? Later, he explained to me, “I was afraid people would date me for my money, not for me.” I foolishly rejoiced that I valued his looks. But I forgot to ask him what he liked about me. Nor did I expect that when I discovered he was keeping a mistress, he would point at me and say: “Zoey, why are you making a scene?” “You’re a thirty-year-old woman. How can you compare to a girl in her early twenties?” “You’re not as young, not as pretty, and your body isn’t as good as theirs.” “If I don’t play with them, should I play with you?” I felt like I was in an ice cave. He seemed to have forgotten. He was the one who begged me with red eyes to love him a little more. He was the one who said: “Zoey, my parents never taught me how to love someone.” “I don’t understand love. Please teach me how to love.” “I want to love you properly.” He also said: “Zoey, my values were ruined by my parents long ago.” “Only you made me understand what love is.” Because of his parents, Caleb was extremely insecure. I told him I loved him over and over again in his ear. But he still sought confirmation of my love time and time again. I was a broad-minded person, tolerating him every time. I held him in my arms with heartache until he fell asleep quietly. I thought we would grow old together without separating. But his sudden keeping of a mistress caught me off guard. Lily was 20, still a junior in college. The first time I saw her was probably six months ago. Caleb was taken to the police station for fighting. I went to bail him out. He was full of hostility, which dissipated the moment he saw me. He followed me obediently, handling everything. Before leaving, a girl in a bar uniform rushed up and thanked Caleb profusely: “Sir, if I hadn’t met you today, I really don’t know what would have happened. Thank you.” “If I have the chance, I will definitely repay you.” I was stunned and looked at Caleb with confusion in my eyes. He looked impatient. “Just get another job.” The girl looked troubled. “I… I can’t, this job pays more…” Caleb looked at her with a playful smile. “Is that so?” That girl was Lily. That day, I was puzzled why Caleb would suddenly help a stranger. He explained, “Seeing her reminded me of you at 20, so I helped.” I didn’t think much of it. Until Caleb unscrupulously took her to various banquets, openly embracing and kissing her. Only then did I suddenly understand the meaning of his playful smile at Lily that day. He had his eye on Lily back then. I cried, I fought. Finally, all I got was his sentence: “Zoey, what are you fussing about? When you were twenty, didn’t I love you just as much?” In that moment, I understood Caleb’s love. He only loved girls in their twenties, and I was no longer in that stage. I wanted a divorce immediately. But coincidentally, Caleb and I had been trying to conceive for years without success, yet I found out I was pregnant right after discovering his affair. I thought for the sake of the child, for our twelve years of feelings, I would give him one more chance. As long as he was willing to come back to me, I would forgive him. So, I found a few people to send Lily to the countryside to hide her. The result was clear. For her, Caleb destroyed my father’s life’s work. Even humiliating my parents for her. Twelve years of feelings, he showed no mercy. I lost completely. 3 Based on Lily’s love for sharing, I saw her updates on Instagram. [The person I love came to save me on a white horse~~~] I added her just to try, but I didn’t expect her to accept. I smiled bitterly. Taking advantage of this gap, I looked for a lawyer to negotiate the divorce. But when they heard the name Caleb Vance, no one was willing to take the case. I knew they didn’t dare offend the Vance family, so naturally, they didn’t dare take my case. I was once an outstanding graduate of a well-known university. But after getting married, people around me said it was surprising the Vance family allowed Caleb to marry the daughter of a small company owner. I knew Caleb put in a lot of effort for this. His back still bore the scars of the family discipline whip from when he stubbornly insisted on marrying me. The side branches of the Vance family watched hungrily. To snatch business, Caleb often worked all night until dawn back then. He also constantly ran back and forth domestically and internationally, even vomiting blood and fainting from exhaustion once. My heart ached terribly, but I was powerless. I could only restrain my temper and try hard to be a good Mrs. Vance. Spending all day socializing with wealthy wives to build relationships or listening for useful news from them. Now wanting to find help, I didn’t know who to turn to. However, given how much Caleb doted on Lily, divorce should be easy. I went home and took inventory of my things. I packed some frequently worn clothes, my ID, and passport. I didn’t take anything else. Wait quietly for Caleb to return. Maybe because of the pregnancy, I fell asleep while waiting. Until I woke up hungry, opening my eyes abruptly. The room was pitch black. Dazed, I heard the maid calling me for dinner. After eating and drinking my fill, I realized Caleb hadn’t returned yet. I opened Lily’s Instagram, and what came into view was— Caleb dragging a suitcase with one hand and holding her hand with the other. She said happily: [Going on a trip!] Knowing Caleb wouldn’t be back for a while. I went to the hospital the next day to abort the child. Since the feelings were broken, there was really no need for me to keep Caleb’s child. Anyway, as long as he was willing, plenty of women would give birth for him. Signing alone, undergoing the abortion surgery alone. It was done quickly. By the time I recovered, they were coming back. I specifically put on makeup and drove to pick them up. Thanks to Lily’s desire to share. I got hold of her and Caleb’s entire itinerary. They went bungee jumping, saw the aurora, and went skydiving. Sure enough, being with young people is different. People seem to become younger. Things he dared not do before, he did now. When Caleb came out, his expression was bland. Lily held his arm, her mouth chattering non-stop. Her steps were light, a bright smile on her face. “Caleb, let’s go again next time, okay? On your birthday. This is the first time I’ve spent it with you since we got together…” “Caleb Vance!” I raised my right hand and waved at him, shouting loudly. Lily seemed not to hear, continuing to chatter. Caleb paused, his brows slowly furrowing. He shielded Lily behind him. In that instant, I felt like I was some kind of monster. But I should be the one afraid of him. After all, half a month ago, he almost strangled me for this woman. My memory is still fresh. Facing me, Lily was still panicked. She stood timidly behind Caleb, shrinking like an ostrich. “What are you doing here?” Caleb’s tone was extremely nasty. I smiled faintly and said, “Here to pick you up!” He frowned tightly and stared at me. “What tricks are you trying to play again?” 4 I spread my hands: “What can I do?” “You bankrupted my family for her; do I dare do anything else?” Caleb didn’t speak, pulling Lily to leave. He showed with his actions that he didn’t believe my words. I laughed at myself. Then my voice slowly sounded. “No one will come to pick you up, and it’s hard to get a taxi.” Caleb gave me a fierce look, then followed me to the underground parking lot. Caleb subconsciously opened the passenger door, wanting to get in. I stopped him. “Sit in the back. Do you want to ignore your beloved mistress?” He looked at me, expression indifferent, the surrounding chill gradually rising. He sneered, slammed the car door shut, and got into the back seat. The atmosphere in the car dropped to freezing point; only the sound of our breathing remained. I broke the silence first. “Ms. Lily, I have important matters to discuss with Caleb. Will you join us, or should I drop you off at school first?” Suddenly named, Lily looked at Caleb helplessly. She gripped the corner of his clothes, “I… I…” Caleb suddenly spoke up: “What exactly do you want?” Through the rearview mirror, I glanced at him. His expression was already very impatient. He was angry. Maybe because Lily was there, he was trying hard to suppress his temper. Back when he loved me, he didn’t dare lose his temper with me at all. Six months, and things have changed completely. The sadder I felt, the happier my smile became. The smile on my face gradually widened. “What is Ms. Lily’s major?” “Art Appreciation!” I was a little surprised: “What a coincidence, that was my major too.” “I remember a classmate of mine stayed at the school to teach. I wonder if you know her?” I said a name. Lily’s face instantly went pale, her voice weak: “She is… is… my counselor.” I laughed out loud: “That really is a coincidence.” Lily secretly nudged Caleb, biting her lower lip, looking at him hesitantly. She looked pitiful, as if I had just bullied her. Caleb said in a deep voice: “Zoey, believe it or not, I’ll make her get out of the school and never let her be a teacher again in this life?!” I retracted the smile on my face: “I believe it.” “Just asking, why so scared?” He narrowed his eyes, enunciating each word: “What exactly do you want to do?!” “Disgust you guys!” He glanced at me disdainfully and stopped talking. My breath hitched, and I unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter. After hesitating for a while, I said in a deep voice: “I want a divorce. Let’s divorce.” Hearing this, Caleb raised his eyebrows. He crossed his legs, his meaningful gaze meeting mine through the rearview mirror. “Zoey, who said I want to divorce you?” “As long as you behave, don’t hinder me, and don’t do anything outrageous, Caleb Vance’s wife will only be you.” “Your status as the wealthy Mrs. Vance won’t be shaken by anyone!” Hearing this, I was stunned. I braked urgently and stopped by the roadside, looking at him in disbelief. “Caleb, what do you take me for?” He shifted, changing to a comfortable position, and spat out indifferently: “Don’t look at me like that. Didn’t you pester me back then because you knew my identity?” “In the years you’ve been married to me, who hasn’t given face to your family? Don’t you know how much your father’s business has risen?” My mind went blank. So he always thought so? Then for the past twelve years, his deep professions of love, dating me, marrying me, maintaining the marriage—was it all acting? Reason stopped me from questioning him. Because there was no need anymore. I just felt a little surprised, a little ridiculous. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes like frost, tone devoid of emotion, “Get out!” Lily looked at the deserted place, saying timidly: “Ms… Ms. Zoey, Caleb is still here, you can’t…” I didn’t have the heart to listen to her chatter, and shouted again sternly: “Get out!” Caleb’s mouth pulled into a cold sneer, “If anyone’s getting out, it’s you!” I don’t know why, but right now I wasn’t afraid of him at all. Meeting his gaze, I said, “If you don’t get out, then let’s die together!” I stared him down, deadlocked. Lily looked at Caleb in panic. Seeing him looking at me, she clenched her hands. Perhaps frightened by my serious expression, Caleb compromised. Before getting out of the car, he smiled coldly: “Zoey, good for you!” “You really need to be taught a lesson!” “You’re dead when you get back!” Seeing them get out of the car with dark faces, I slammed on the gas and rushed out. Go back? Like hell I’m going back! I immediately drove to pick up my parents and bought the soonest flight abroad. Fortunately, I had the foresight to be ready to run at any time. I left the packed luggage at my parents’ house in advance. Luckily, my dad also planned ahead, knowing that after offending the Vance family, we couldn’t stay in the country and had to go abroad to survive. We left immediately, without dragging our feet. When Caleb called me, I snapped the SIM card, threw it in the trash, and boarded the plane.

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After my parents passed away, I finally found the true heir to the Sterling family empire scavenging for trash on a street corner. I snatched the moldy bun from his hands. “Idiot, you can’t eat that. It’s dirty.” Later, the idiot buried his face in my chest muscles. I grabbed a handful of his hair and gritted my teeth. “Stupid dog, you can’t eat that either.” 1 I found Liam in a small, run-down town in the South. He was dressed in rags, curled up in a corner, wolfing down a dirty, foul-smelling bun he held with both hands. I approached slowly and crouched beside him. Liam looked up warily, hiding the rotten food behind his back. He bared his teeth at me, fierce and feral. I put on a friendly smile, staring at his sharp, white canines. “Why are you acting like a stray dog?” Liam stared at my perfect smile, stunned for a moment. I took the opportunity to snatch the sour bun from his hand and tossed it aside. “Idiot, you can’t eat that stuff. It’s dirty.” Liam froze. He looked at his empty hand, then at me, and finally at the bun lying in the dirt. Just as he was about to snarl, I pulled out a soft, white, fresh bun and stuffed it into his mouth. I had been watching Liam all morning. He had rummaged through six dumpsters and fought two stray dogs just for a bite to eat. I had sent someone to buy a whole bag of fresh buns. I came prepared. Liam instantly settled down, holding the bun with both hands and gnawing on it intently. I took the chance to lead him away. From the trash heap to the hotel, it was a twenty-minute drive. Liam ate seven buns. Every time he finished one, he would stare at me with those puppy-dog eyes, looking like he was about to let out a “Woof.” I wasn’t trying to humiliate him. But Liam really looked like a stray dog. Feeling mischievous, I pulled out another bun and waved it in front of his eyes. “Want it?” Liam stared at the food in my hand and swallowed hard, his eyes lighting up. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now. I smiled, a bit wickedly. “Call me ‘Brother.’ If you call me Brother, I’ll give it to you.” Liam looked at me, then at the bun. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes were practically glowing green with hunger. His mouth moved a couple of times, but he was too anxious to make a sound. I guided him patiently. “Be a good boy. Say ‘Brother’.” Liam got desperate. A loud sound erupted from his throat: “Woof!” ? What the f*ck! Is he actually a dog? Before I could recover from the shock, Liam lunged, snatched the bun from my hand, and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. Then he quickly scrambled to the other side of the car, putting as much distance between us as possible. He chewed with difficulty, eyes fixed on me in warning. Looking at this six-foot-three man trying to curl himself into a ball of distress, I felt speechless. And a little heartbroken. What kind of life had this guy been living? Feeling a rare pang of pity, seeing him choke on the food, I reached out to pat his back. “No one is taking it from you. Eat slowly.” Liam instantly turned vicious. He stared at my hand, a threatening growl vibrating in his throat. As if he would bite my fingers off if I reached any closer. Great. Eight buns, wasted. Being this food-aggressive isn’t good. I withdrew my hand, tapping my fingers on my knee, and lowered my eyes with a chuckle. A bit wild. Once I get him cleaned up, I’ll need to train him properly. 2 Cleaning him up was another challenge. The smell on Liam wasn’t exactly pleasant. And he refused to bathe. Once we got to the hotel, he huddled in the corner of the sofa, staring at me warily, keeping a safe distance. I talked until my mouth was dry, but I couldn’t coax him into the bathroom. I couldn’t catch him, and I certainly couldn’t beat him in a fight. After a two-hour battle of wits, I saw the complimentary candy on the nightstand. I grabbed one, unwrapped it, and quickly stuffed it into Liam’s mouth. The puppy didn’t have time to bare his teeth before he froze. He stayed stunned for a full thirty seconds. He lowered his head, spit the candy into his palm, tentatively licked it, his eyes lit up, and then popped it back into his mouth. I don’t have OCD, but even I couldn’t stand his lack of hygiene. I closed my eyes, chanting silently: He’s silly, he doesn’t know better, teach him slowly, don’t despise him. Once I convinced myself, I opened my eyes and used the candy as bait to lure Liam into the bathroom. I discovered that while Liam was cognitively impaired, he had some basic self-care skills. He could brush his teeth and wash his face. Afterward, he even arranged the toiletries neatly and folded the towel into a square. Someone must have taught him that. So, showering shouldn’t be a problem. I stripped him naked and threw him into the bathtub. I wanted to ruffle his hair, but it was too dirty, so I pulled my hand back. I’ll save that for when he’s clean. I peeled another candy and fed it to him, coaxing, “Good boy, wash yourself. If you smell good, Brother will give you more candy.” Less than ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened. A dripping wet, stark naked Liam walked out. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, tight glutes. His proportions were shockingly perfect. My eye twitched. I took a deep breath, mentally reciting “lust is emptiness” three times before walking over to inspect the results. He was cleaner, but definitely not scrubbed properly. He hadn’t even used shampoo. I overestimated him. He probably only knew the basics like washing his face. I herded him back into the bathroom, pressed him into the tub, and resigned myself to washing him. Liam watched curiously as I scrubbed him, surprisingly obedient. The more I washed, the more jealous I got. How does a guy living on the streets maintain this much muscle definition? I ran my hand over his stomach. He had two more abs than I did. No wonder he eats so much. All my time in the gym feels like a waste. As I was scrubbing, that part of Liam that shouldn’t be standing up suddenly and shakily raised its head. I stared at the beast in shock. “You…” How do you get hard just taking a shower? Liam blinked his innocent puppy eyes at me and swallowed. Forget it. Can’t argue with a fool. I gave the thing a light slap and greeted it. “Alright, I know you’re happy to see your brother. Stand down.” I looked up at Liam teasingly. “You tell it to kneel and behave.” Liam grunted when I slapped it, his eyes lighting up. He stared at my hand. After a moment, he suddenly grabbed my hand and pressed it against his lower abdomen, his voice hoarse. “Hit it.” “More.” “Hit.” My whole body went numb. What the hell? Did hitting it make him feel good? Liam whined impatiently, his breath hot. “Hurts. Hot.” “Hit it.” It was over. My hand was no longer pure. Expressionless, I pulled my hand away and turned on the cold water, drenching Liam. “Cool the f*ck down!” Liam wilted under the cold spray. “Woof…” 3 That night, Liam refused to sleep in the bed. He curled up on the floor beside it. He slept soundly, but I couldn’t sleep. I stood on the balcony smoking. Before I found Liam, I didn’t expect him to be like this. Liam wasn’t born this way. He went missing at age five. Our parents looked for him their entire lives. Even after they adopted me, they never gave up searching for Liam. After Mom died of grief and Dad followed soon after, I spent four years looking for him alone. Mom said Liam was smart from a young age. He spoke early, loved picture books, and learned everything instantly. The current Liam only knew how to bark and bite. He acted like a wild animal. I didn’t know what Liam had been through, but earlier, I had touched every scar on his body. Old wounds, new scars. He must have suffered a lot. I exhaled a cloud of smoke, my chest feeling tight. Growing up alone, confused and impaired like that… how hard must it have been? I turned my head and suddenly met a pair of bright, wide eyes. “Holy sh*t!” My scalp tingled, and the hair on my arms stood up. Liam had woken up at some point and was standing silently behind me. I clutched my chest, pointing at him while cursing, “Are you a ghost?! You walk without making a sound!” Liam didn’t listen to a word I said. He stared at the cigarette between my fingers, his gaze incredibly clear. Then, with lightning speed, he leaned in and snatched the burning cigarette from my hand with his mouth. I stood there dumbfounded. When I reacted, I frantically tried to pry his mouth open. “That’s a damn cigarette! You can’t eat that! Spit it out!” Liam frowned from the heat but refused to let go. I forced his jaw open, threw the cigarette away, and stuck my fingers into his mouth. “Where did it burn? Does it hurt?” Liam opened his mouth obediently, wrapped his tongue around my finger, and licked. He tasted it, then licked again. Probably deciding it tasted good, he grabbed my hand and took a big lick of my palm. Saliva covered my hand. I shivered, the sensation tickling from my palm down to my bones. I pulled out my wet hand and slapped the back of Liam’s head. “Are you a dog? Licking everything! Isn’t it dirty?!” Still angry, I slapped him again lightly. “If you eat random things again, I’ll beat you.” Liam tilted his head. “Woof!” “…” Great. After all that, he only understood the word “dog.” 4 The next morning, full and bored, Liam started scratching at the door. First pounding, then kicking. Like a damn husky. Unable to tolerate it, I dragged him back and put on a TV show for him on the tablet. Liam settled down. Leaning against the bed, holding the tablet, he watched without blinking. I sat in the chair, catching up on the backlog of work online. Exhausted, I fell asleep waiting for an email. I slept restlessly, vaguely feeling an itch and pain on my chest. I opened my eyes groggily and looked into the mirror opposite me. The handsome man in the executive chair had his bathrobe open, and a large, fuzzy head was buried in his chest. The handsome man was me; the large head belonged to Liam, who was kneeling between my legs. Before I could recover from the shock of this erotic scene, a sudden pain in my chest made me gasp. I grabbed Liam’s hair and pulled him back. “Sucking is one thing, but you’re biting?!” I looked down. It was swollen! How long had he been eating?! Liam’s lips were glossy. He looked at me and said, “Candy.” He stared at my chest aggrievedly, reaching out to flick it gently. “Not candy.” I froze. I realized what he meant. He wasn’t saying “Not candy”; he meant “Not sweet.” Because before yesterday, he hadn’t eaten sweets, so he didn’t know the taste called “sweet.” I told him the gummy bears were “candy,” so “candy” meant sweet. “Not candy” meant “not sweet.” I looked at the poor little thing on my chest that Liam had tortured. Pink, soft. It did look a lot like the strawberry gummy I gave him yesterday. Now that it was swollen and shiny from his gnawing, it looked even more like one. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. “That’s not damn candy! How could that be sweet?!”

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On the day my sister was finally found, my parents and brother were brimming with joy. But then, they heard my thoughts. [Great, Hailey is finally back. It’s just too bad Dad’s biggest project is about to be snatched away by a rival. Should I warn him now?] Mom looked at my sister with tears in her eyes, ready to take off the family heirloom—an emerald bracelet worth millions—and give it to her. [Sigh. Once that bracelet leaves Mom’s wrist, it’s gone forever. In a minute, Hailey is going to pretend to accidentally drop it just to test her status in Mom’s heart. Such a pity, that emerald has perfect clarity.] My brother, overcome with emotion, was about to pick Hailey up and spin her around. I tilted my head, looking at him. [Carter is pathetic too. His girlfriend is currently sitting on his best friend’s lap. I wonder if he’ll still be this happy tonight when she tells him she’s pregnant and makes him a dad!] The very next second, Dad’s cell phone rang. 1 My gaze remained fixed on my sister, acting as if I didn’t see the frozen expressions on my parents’ and brother’s faces. Dad hesitated for two seconds before answering the phone. A moment later, his expression drastically changed. “What? Okay, I understand.” Putting down the phone, the joy on Dad’s face from Hailey Vance’s return instantly turned grim. Even Mom’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Richard, what’s wrong?” Dad glanced at me, his voice dry. “I just got news about the company’s key project for the first half of the year. Our competitor intercepted it. There’s no room for negotiation.” I shook my head, feigning sympathy. [Dad and Carter barely came home for six months working on that deal. Now it’s all down the drain. Carter is going to get mocked by the rival CEO’s son for ages because of this. How embarrassing!] Instantly, two intense gazes locked onto me. I watched Mom’s hand hover over the bracelet she was preparing to remove, acting nonchalant as I sat to the side. Now things were awkward. Mom didn’t know whether to take it off or leave it on. She just froze there. Hailey, however, noticed Mom’s hesitation. She stepped forward eagerly, practically yanking the jade bracelet off Mom’s wrist, ignoring the flash of pain on Mom’s face. “Mom, are you giving this to me?” Hailey held the bracelet by two fingers, hugging Mom and acting coquettish. “When I was little, you said you’d save all the best things for me. You’re the best, Mom!” Hailey didn’t see the tension in Mom’s eyes. She made a show of putting it on. Then, the accident happened. The bracelet that was just in Hailey’s hand suddenly hit the floor. The emerald, cherished by Mom above all else, shattered into pieces. Mom’s face couldn’t help but twitch violently. “Oh no, Mom!” Hailey pouted, feigning horror. “My hand slipped. You won’t blame me, right Mom?” As she said this, a flash of smugness crossed her face. She was certain their love and guilt for her would outweigh a piece of jewelry. But when she looked up, expecting comfort, she found Mom holding back a scolding and my brother, Carter, looking undisguisedly shocked. “Crap!” Carter’s face suddenly went pale. He grabbed his phone and rushed out, presumably to call his girlfriend. “Mom, Dad, are you mad? Hailey really didn’t mean to.” Seeing their expressions weren’t right, Hailey’s big eyes immediately misted over, and she began a pitiful apology. [Here we go again. She’s going to play the victim card. She’ll talk about how miserable her life was after being kidnapped… Poor Mom and Dad are so soft-hearted, they’ll give her a huge compensation check. Little do they know, she spent all her money on male escorts!] Sure enough, the next moment Hailey’s tears began to fall. She cried about how much she missed them, how she was beaten constantly, claiming her body was covered in scars that would never heal. She said she slept in a dog cage, ate moldy food, and was almost sold to a trafficking ring. “Mom, Dad, seeing you again… I finally feel so happy!” 2 I absentmindedly picked at my nails. [Hailey is about to show off her so-called “scars.” But she cut those herself, just to fish for sympathy.] Mom took the bait. She pulled Hailey’s wrist, examining the scabbed wounds, her voice trembling. “Hailey, these wounds… did they do this to you?” Hailey flinched, her eyes shifting, but she nodded and choked out, “Yes… they hit me. They said I was a money-loser, hard to sell…” She hugged Mom tightly again. “It’s okay now that I’m back. Mom, I missed you so much.” I curled my lip. [Her foster parents treated her better than their own bio kids. They gave her a massive allowance every month, yet she throws them under the bus. Disgusting. She blew all that cash chasing after idols.] Mom and Dad exchanged a look, their faces grim. Dad patted Mom’s hand and stood up. “I need to make a call to the office.” I watched Dad’s retreating back, raising my hand to fix my hair to hide the smirk on my lips. Only I knew that Dad wasn’t calling the office. He was sending people to investigate what really happened to Hailey all these years. Dad was a suspicious man; after hearing my inner voice predict so much, how could he blindly trust Hailey like before? After Dad left, Hailey performed even harder, weeping about how she was starved and forced to do manual labor in her new home. Mom, however, wasn’t as emotional as she was in my past life. She just lightly patted Hailey’s back, comforting her with a distracted air. I watched the scene without expression. 3 In my previous life, young Hailey and I went out to play. I only turned away to buy ice cream, and my sister willingly followed a wealthy-looking trafficker. I chased after them but couldn’t catch up. When my parents and brother found out, they blamed everything on me. Even I believed I was a sinner. I endured thirteen years of torture and verbal abuse from them, living a life worse than a dog’s, walking on eggshells every day. When I was twenty, Hailey was found. Her return instantly garnered the family’s total adoration. I thought it would alleviate my guilt. But Hailey pointed at me and said: “I only got lost because Harper sold me to the traffickers. She said I was the extra child and everyone would be happier if I disappeared!” The moment she said that, my family’s faces changed. They believed their beloved, lost princess instantly. They took turns slapping me, forcing me to kneel and kowtow to Hailey for forgiveness. My life became a living hell. Not a single day of peace. Before I was finally tortured to death, Hailey smugly revealed the truth to me. “I really do have good luck! We were poor back then, and I didn’t want to suffer, so I left with the trafficker. I ended up with rich parents.” “Too bad they went bankrupt right when I turned eighteen. Luckily, I saw in the papers that Dad and Mom struck it rich, so I came back. Otherwise, you would have enjoyed all this wealth alone!” I hadn’t realized Hailey was so calculating and vicious. I died filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself reborn on the day of her return. And I discovered I could project my inner thoughts and choose who heard them. I looked at Hailey, snuggled in Mom’s arms, unable to hide the smirk on her lips. I wanted to laugh, too. In this life, I wanted to see how Mom, Dad, and Carter would maintain their doting love for Hailey after seeing her true colors! 4 When Dad pushed the door open after his call, his face was iron-gray. Hailey was still crying like a pear blossom bathed in rain. I lowered my eyes. I knew Dad now knew exactly what happened after Hailey got “lost.” [Sigh. Next, Hailey is going to try to grab the spotlight by framing me for her kidnapping.] Hailey didn’t disappoint. As soon as Dad entered, she sobbed, “Dad, actually… when we were little, Harper pushed me toward the bad guys when I wasn’t looking! She said I was extra, and you’d be happy if I was gone.” Hailey looked up at them, eyes red, voice trembling. “Is that true?” If she had been paying attention, she would have noticed Mom pulling her hand away from Hailey’s back, and Dad frowning deeply. I shrank back, my eyes instantly reddening. Dad’s tone was heavy. “Hailey, your sister would never do such a thing.” Mom chimed in, “That’s right. Harper has always been a well-behaved, obedient child.” Obedient? I thought they didn’t know! Hearing this praise, I felt a wave of irony. Two lifetimes, and this was the first time I’d heard them compliment me. I thought they truly saw me as a jinx, a disaster, a nuisance. I sniffled, looking wronged. “Hailey, how can you frame me like that? Clearly, you disliked how poor we were back then and left with the trafficker on purpose… What does that have to do with me?” After saying it, I covered my mouth in horror, as if I had accidentally spilled a secret. Hailey’s face changed drastically. She blurted out, “How did you know?!” The room went silent. Mom and Dad’s faces turned ugly. Hailey realized she had slipped up. She tried to explain frantically, but only dug herself deeper. Seeing Mom and Dad’s faces turning as black as ink, Hailey gritted her teeth, rolled her eyes back, and fainted straight away.

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In my last life, after my parents died from a sudden illness, they left me with my three-year-old brother. I had no choice but to drop out of school and work to support the family. For fifteen years, I worked myself to the bone, and finally, my brother got into an Ivy League university. But right at my brother’s graduation party, I saw my parents—who had been dead for fifteen years—hugging a girl my age and affectionately calling her “daughter.” In disbelief, I stepped forward to confront them, only to be met with looks of utter disgust. Through their hateful words, I learned the truth: I was actually the Mayor’s daughter, switched at birth by them. “If you hadn’t been somewhat useful, we would have strangled you long ago!” “You got Tyler into college, so your mission is complete. Now you should just go die.” At a command from my elegantly dressed “mother,” countless bodyguards surrounded me. And the brother I raised with my own hands watched coldly as I was beaten to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my parents’ funeral. 1 “Poor Tom and Mary, just when they were about to enjoy life, they’re gone!” “Riley, don’t be too sad. Tyler will have to rely on you, his big sister, from now on.” Hearing the mix of genuine concern and malicious comfort around me, and seeing the portraits in the center of the room, my heart trembled. I was actually reborn. In my last life, I was in evening study hall when I got a call from the village. They said my parents had an accident at the construction site and died at the hospital. When I rushed home, all I saw were two coffins in the middle of the yard. Overcome with grief, I fainted on the spot. When I woke up, the coffins were already buried, leaving only my wailing brother. With only two hundred dollars to my name, I had to drop out of school and take my brother to the city to make a living. Without a degree and burdened with a child, I could only do the hardest, most grueling jobs. Finally, fifteen years later, Tyler got into an Ivy League school. Just as I was happy, thinking I had finally done right by my parents, I bumped into my “dead” parents at Tyler’s graduation party. Gone were the weathered faces from my memory. They were smiling, hugging a girl my age. They looked like they had lived in luxury for years. Meanwhile, I, their “daughter,” looked older than them due to the burdens of life. When I questioned them, full of indignation, I only received their mockery. “You, a money-losing burden from another family, what right do you have to question me?” “If you hadn’t been useful, we would have killed you long ago!” “You got Tyler into college, completing your mission. Now go die and stop blocking our Tiffany’s path.” That’s when I learned I was the Mayor’s daughter they had swapped. They faked their deaths to enjoy life with their biological daughter. And the brother I raised single-handedly stood against me without hesitation after knowing everything. He watched coldly as the bodyguards beat me to death. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the day my parents’ coffins were buried. Looking at the peaceful smiles on their portraits, I suppressed the hatred rolling in my heart. Only after the coffins were in the ground and the villagers had dispersed did I go up the mountain alone with a shovel. They wanted to play dead? I wouldn’t let them have their way! Why should they get to enjoy life while I bore all the pain? Fueled by resentment, I dug up their coffins. But when I saw what was inside, I screamed in terror. My scream quickly attracted the attention of the villagers who were watching me closely. Especially when they saw the two charred bodies in the coffins, several aunts fainted from shock. The village chief, who had been following slowly behind the crowd, turned green when he saw I had dug up the graves. I was shocked to my core. I had to admit, my parents really thought of everything to fake their deaths. “Riley, how could you dig up your parents’ graves? This is treasonous!” “Your parents died so tragically to earn your tuition! And now you won’t even let them rest in peace!” With the village chief throwing accusations, the villagers’ faces changed, and they started pointing fingers at me. My eyes instantly turned red, and I cried miserably. “Chief, I didn’t want to do this, but my parents left so suddenly. I didn’t even get to see them one last time.” “I don’t believe they would just die like this. Tyler is only three! How are we supposed to live without our parents?” “Besides, Chief, didn’t you say my parents fell at the construction site? But these bodies look burned!” Impatience flashed in the Chief’s eyes, but he had to explain gently. “Girl, you must have misheard. Your parents were burned to death at the construction site.” “Is that so?” I pretended to be skeptical. Thinking he had fooled me, the Chief urged me to leave. But I rolled my eyes and extended my hand to him. “Since my parents burned to death at the site, where is their compensation money?” The Chief was dumbfounded. My parents hadn’t left instructions for this. I knew they weren’t dead, but I wasn’t having it. Why should they dump their mess on me and then reappear to enjoy the fruits of my labor when the time was right? I stared dead at the Chief, who clearly knew the inside story. “Is the construction company refusing to pay? It’s okay, Chief. Tomorrow I’ll take Tyler to the media with banners. As long as I’m alive, I’ll go to the site every day to protest.” The Chief’s head was spinning. He never expected the usually obedient me to demand money instead of panicking. He could only comfort the agitated me while calling to ask. Even from a distance, I could hear the cursing on the other end of the phone. I lowered my head, pretending to be sad, but the corners of my mouth were splitting to my ears. In this life, they wouldn’t get away without bleeding a little. Soon, the Chief returned, covering his ears. With him came the news that the “construction site” was willing to pay five thousand dollars. I didn’t know if they were in a rush to dump Tyler on me, but the money arrived quickly. Understandable. Their biological daughter was now the Mayor’s daughter. Whatever slipped through her fingers would be enough for them to live comfortably for a lifetime. After getting the passbook with my name on it, I carefully inventoried everything left at home. An ox, a pig almost ready for market, several chickens, and the currently worthless land. But I knew this land would be developed later. In my last life, when I took Tyler to the city, the villagers divided this land among themselves. This time, I wouldn’t miss this opportunity to get rich. I went to the office and used a hen that laid eggs daily to change the land title to my name. The numbers in the passbook grew, and the house emptied. Finally, on a dark night, I carried my young brother on my back and set off for the city. Listening to his steady breathing, I smiled. Since “Mom and Dad” trusted me so much, faking their deaths to leave Tyler to me… Then, as their daughter, I would definitely prepare a surprise for them. Fifteen years passed in a flash. During these fifteen years, I put all my effort into raising my brother. Under my frantic spending, my brother not only became a top student but also excelled in sports and arts. The day the college entrance exam results came out, it was just as I predicted. He scored far better than in my last life and was the top scholar in the state! That day, reporters besieged our home. Watching my brother speak eloquently on TV, I was full of anticipation. I spent so much effort just to make my “dead” parents come to me personally. I believed that they, who valued sons over daughters all their lives, wouldn’t disappoint me. Sure enough, on the day of the graduation party, just as I was accepting praise with my brother, the closed hall doors were kicked open. A familiar but aged voice reached my ears. “Tyler got into college! How can we parents not be here?” I looked over and saw my parents, who had been dead for fifteen years. I smiled secretly but frowned outwardly, looking at the village chief. The Chief, whom I had specially invited, was soaked in cold sweat, smiling awkwardly at me. The moment they appeared, the invited villagers gasped. After all, two charred bodies fifteen years ago were hard to forget. But now, these two appeared as if nothing had happened. My parents bypassed me, trying to hug my brother. My “mom” carefully touched my brother’s face, eyes red. “Tyler, I’m your mom.” My brother dodged her touch with disgust, hiding behind me. His face full of accusation: “Sis, who is this? Why is she claiming to be someone’s mom? I don’t know them!” Looking at my parents frozen in place, I smiled and patted my brother’s shoulder. Seeing his precious son refusing to let him touch him, my “dad” flew into a rage. “Riley! Did you badmouth us to Tyler?” “Otherwise, Tyler was so close to us when he was little, why would he ignore us now!” My “mom” beat her chest and cried: “You money-losing burden! You didn’t like your brother when he was born, and now you’re keeping us apart!” I rolled my eyes. He knew it was “when he was little.” Seeing my eye roll, my “dad” was furious and raised his hand to slap me. A second before the slap landed, a strong hand firmly gripped his arm. My “dad” cursed, but his eyes widened when he saw who it was. “Mr… Mr. Vance, why are you here?” “I wasn’t aware I gave the Vance family servants a holiday?” The man’s voice carried unquestionable authority. My “dad’s” face turned green. The reporters who came to interview the top scholar swarmed forward. “Mayor Vance! Mayor Vance! We heard you’re being transferred. Can we get an interview?” One look from Mayor Vance silenced everyone. His cold eyes only softened when they swept over me and my brother. Humiliated in public, my “dad” ignored the employer-employee relationship and shouted at Mayor Vance. “Mr. Vance, even if I’m your servant, you have no right to stop me from recognizing my biological son!” My “dad” smiled proudly: “Mayor, my son is this year’s top scholar!” Unexpectedly, hearing this, Mayor Vance smiled playfully. “Your son?” I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow and sneering. My “dad” still thought the one I raised with all my might was his precious Tyler. But since I knew Tyler was an ingrate, why would I repeat the same mistake? It was laughable they treated me as a fool, but hadn’t I waited fifteen years for today? Looking at my “dad’s” smug face, I finally spoke: “Actually, brother…” “He’s not your Tyler. He’s my biological brother.” Hearing this, my “dad” smiled like a villain. “How can Tyler not be my child? You girl must be crazy!” “But, you say Tyler is your biological brother? That’s incorrect. Tyler is the true blood of the Lee family.” “As for you, you’re just a bastard. If we hadn’t given you food, you would have starved to death.” I raised an eyebrow, smiling contemptuously. Laughing internally at his naivety. Didn’t he look in the mirror? How could mud produce the moon? Keep dreaming.

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Just because I peeled a shrimp for my husband, I was secretly filmed by “Feminist_Icon_Bella,” a massive influencer, and labeled a “Trad Wife Pick-Me” who sets women back fifty years. Within minutes, my social media was flooded with hate. My husband, heartbroken, wanted to unleash his legal team to defend me, but I stopped him just in time. In my past life, we did exactly that—we used the law to fight back. But just as we were about to win, Bella livestreamed her “suicide attempt,” and overnight, we were branded murderers. The public backlash destroyed my husband’s law firm. My parents died from heart attacks brought on by the stress. And finally, I was pushed into oncoming traffic by one of her deranged fans. After my death, Bella miraculously “survived,” gained six million followers, and became the top streamer on the platform. Only then did I realize it was all a orchestrated stunt for clout. And she targeted me simply because the guy she liked rejected her that day, using me—a random passerby—as his excuse. When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I did was put on my best “battle armor”—a designer dress—and apply the most perfect “no-makeup” makeup look to become the ultimate “Trad Wife.” This time, I’m going to use her as my stepping stone to the top. … When I got home, my social media was, predictably, under siege, just like in my past life. The same filthy comments, filled with creative insults about my mother. My husband, Mark, was furious. He wanted his lawyers to get justice for me immediately, but I stopped him. He was confused. “Honey, this influencer, Bella, is clearly using us for clout. Are we really going to do nothing?” I smiled and shook my head. “Of course not. But we can’t explain ourselves. Instead, we need to lean into it.” Seeing his confusion, I air-dropped him several clips of me looking my best. In every video, my skin looked like a peeled hard-boiled egg—smooth, soft, and radiating a vibe that made people want to protect me. “Instead of explaining, let’s drown them in aesthetics. Pretty privilege is real. I’m going to be the most beautiful ‘Trad Wife’ they’ve ever seen.” Mark didn’t get it, but he followed my lead. I didn’t stay idle either. After he left, I found the best angle, made sure I looked stunning, and started a livestream. Because of the trending topic, people flooded in. Some, total strangers, immediately started calling me a gold-digger and a disgrace to women. I didn’t get angry. I just apologized softly, constantly emphasizing how sorry I was for “shaming women.” I even adjusted the angle to show off my best side, sniffing tearfully as I said I shouldn’t have served food to the man I love. Instantly, half the aggressive comments died down. Many people started telling me not to cry, saying I only served some food and didn’t commit a crime. Of course, some were determined to smear me from start to finish. I saw a familiar alt account and recognized it immediately as Bella. I leaned in close to the camera, maximizing the impact of my face. Seeing the comments shift to praising my looks, I started reading the hate comments through my tears. “This… ‘Princess_Slayer’… I don’t… even know you… You can insult me… but please… don’t bring my family into this…” My tear-stained face was pitiful and endearing. The netizens turned their fire on Bella’s alt account, throwing the same insults she hurled at me right back at her. I waved my hands frantically, crying out, “Please, everyone, don’t be angry for my sake. It’s her fault for being mean, but if you get angry because of me, then it’s my fault.” Being so understanding only made people pity me more. Countless commenters shouted that I wasn’t a “Trad Wife” but a sweet, soft angel. I widened my eyes, red like a rabbit’s, and pouted. “Ah, thank you everyone… thank you for believing in me… To thank you, I…” I paused deliberately, looked around, then trotted away and came back with a plate of shrimp. “I love peeling shrimp for people I like… Can I peel them for you guys?” The chat was charmed, teasing me to make me happy. A “shrimp-peeling Trad Wife” scandal unknowingly became the stepping stone for my own traffic. In one livestream, I gained 100,000 followers. Looking at that number, the smile never left my face. I was so stupid in my last life. Why fight head-on? Water can float a boat, but it can also capsize it. If I use the traffic Bella sent me correctly, it can become the ladder I use to climb over her. The next morning, I went viral again. Because of the livestream clips, the marketing accounts were reposting videos where I looked simply too beautiful. Anyone who saw me couldn’t help but follow. Aside from a few hate DMs, my inbox was full of girls asking how my skin was so perfect. To answer them, I posted my first video, focusing on my skincare routine. I studied medical aesthetics, and with my naturally good skin, the video quickly got over 300,000 likes. The niche skincare products I recommended sold out instantly. Seeing my purchasing power, brands realized my value. Many reached out for collaborations. I didn’t rush. I politely declined them for now. But to annoy Bella, I screenshotted the offers and posted them. Caption: [I only recommend products I actually use. If I do ads in the future, I’ll let everyone know!] Seeing this, Bella went insane. Her alt account unleashed a tirade on me. [You b*tch, seducing men wasn’t enough? You have to steal my other things too? You really look like a fox.] [Don’t get cocky. The higher people lift you now, the harder you’ll fall later!] [Just you wait. I will ruin you. I’ll make you and your family rot in hell.] … In my past life, I would have fought back. But now, I just screenshotted everything as evidence. When Bella starts to crumble, this will be the fatal blow. She was furious. She posted two angry videos emphasizing that my shrimp peeling was “self-debasement,” putting myself beneath a man for his love. She also claimed my love for makeup and skincare was for men, calling it the “beauty tax” and severe objectification—treating myself as a tool to please men. Listening to her jealousy overflowing through the screen, I only found it laughable. In my past life, on International Women’s Day, she was exposed for getting a nose job at a clinic, accompanied by a sugar daddy ten years her senior. Later, those trending topics were suddenly removed, and she cried “fake news” to win back her fans. It’s March 5th now. Only three days left. I’m going to watch her dig her own grave, and then I’ll help kick her in. But before that, I need to get close to her obsession, Kevin. The other murderer who destroyed my family! The first time I heard of this man was the day my family was ruined by Bella. I asked her why she wouldn’t let me go. She said I stole the person she loved. I explained I didn’t know him at all. But she paranoidly asked why Kevin praised my beauty if I didn’t know him, and why he said he’d only date someone like me. I couldn’t answer. It wasn’t until after I died, as my soul was fading, that I heard Kevin’s friend ask him why he used me as an excuse to reject Bella. “She’s insanely jealous. She hates it when I say others are prettier than her. This way, even if I reject her, she won’t blame me or ask for her money back.” His friend praised his cleverness. I shook with rage. Because of this undeserved disaster, my family was dead or insane. Intense resentment made me want to tear this trash apart, but I could only watch as my soul dissipated. Thank god fate gave me another chance. This time, I won’t just punish Bella. I’m dragging Kevin to hell with her. Bella fell in love with Kevin at first sight when he “saved” her at her lowest point. She spent money on him endlessly, granting his every wish. Kevin was a master manipulator. He used her money to play the rich playboy outside, mixing with the wealthy crowd and constantly finding new women. But Bella, afraid of angering him, didn’t dare monitor him and obeyed his every word. But now, to guard against me, she has people watching me. I’m going to use that. I’ll deliberately parade in front of Kevin, forcing her to see who he really is. Let them destroy each other. The location: The Nightshade Bar. Kevin was known here as “Young Master Kevin,” always buying rounds. Every night, he booked VIP Room 302. Bella knew this, but she didn’t know what Kevin did in that room! So when I appeared at the bar, she automatically assumed I was there to seduce Kevin. Half an hour later, hearing the roar of a Porsche, I handed a red bill to the bartender. “If anyone asks where I went, make sure to say Room 302.” The bartender took the cash and agreed smoothly. When Bella found out, she stormed over and kicked open the door to Room 302. When the door opened, Kevin was making out with the women around him. Not one, but five. Bella broke down. She grabbed a glass and smashed it on the sofa. Liquor splashed everywhere. Kevin’s degenerate friends looked furious. “Kevin, where did you find this psycho? She has no manners!” “Yeah, how can a man let a woman ride on his head like this? If you’re this whipped, we can’t hang with you anymore!” Bella exploded at the word “psycho.” She grabbed a bottle and threw it at the man who said it. Luckily, Kevin pulled him away just in time, or it would have hit his head. Filming from a distance, I sighed. Pity no one died. “Have you caused enough trouble, Bella?!” Kevin raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face, saying coldly: “If you keep this up, you never need to see me again.” That one sentence brought her back to reality. She lowered her head and apologized meekly. Kevin’s friends whistled, praising him for being a “real man” who knew how to handle women. Having regained face, Kevin, to show off further, pushed Bella to sit next to Nick, the rich kid she almost hit. “Toast him. You can leave when Nick forgives you.” Bella, who preached independence and strength in her videos, didn’t say a word. She tilted her head back and chugged. After downing three full bottles, she hugged the toilet, vomiting and having diarrhea. But this didn’t earn her a shred of sympathy from Kevin. While she was passed out, he shoved her into Nick’s car. Watching the car drive away, I felt nothing. This is what she owes me. What she owes my family. Sneering, I anonymously sent the photos to Nick’s fiancée. The next day, Nick’s fiancée, Ms. Cao, stormed a villa to catch the mistress, and the video trended at number one. The mistress’s face was clearly visible: a terrified Bella. A feminist icon who taught women self-love was proven to be a mistress. The irony was palpable, and it broke the internet. Her fans felt humiliated and frantically demanded the truth. But Bella disappeared, refusing to respond. This is a classic internet tactic: thinking silence will make people forget. Later, she plans to make a comeback once the storm passes. But she underestimated how many enemies she made this year, and how terrible her character truly is. Soon, influencers came out to expose her one by one. Plastic surgery, stealing boyfriends, maliciously gossiping about other influencers’ looks… the dirt piled up. It stank to high heaven. I also released screenshots of her alt account abusing me, adding “cyberbullying a regular person” to her list of sins. But she had plenty of bots and die-hard fans crying that she was being framed. They listed her charity work over the years. Many comments read: [I don’t believe someone who loves charity can be that bad.] [Exactly. We must trust her. We refuse to participate in a witch hunt against a woman.] [Everyone, remember: Girls help Girls.] Reading the comments, I felt sick. The rise of feminism is hard enough without people like her exploiting the movement for clout. The netizens aren’t wrong; the people using them are. And Bella played this game perfectly. That night, looking pale, she started a livestream. She started by crying. When she was tired of crying, she mentioned the events of the previous night. I knew she was looking for a scapegoat to whitewash herself, but I didn’t expect her to choose me! “I didn’t know anything… Vivian (me) wanted me to help her change her ‘Pick-Me’ mindset. She asked me out for drinks.” “But after I drank, she left mysteriously. I was dizzy and got put into Nick’s car.” She held up her phone, showing “evidence” that we were in the same surveillance footage, editing the timestamps to make it look like we arrived one after another. This montage was enough for netizens to construct a narrative where I maliciously set her up for revenge. In an instant, I knew why she picked me. She hates me, but she dares not offend Nick. She needed someone she had a conflict with who was also at the bar. I fit the bill perfectly. Except she didn’t count on me having a detailed video. I started a livestream and boldly requested a PK (battle) with Bella. She refused, so I cried, bit my lip, and showed my evidence. “I don’t know why a big influencer is targeting me like this. If my friend hadn’t sent me this, I would have died with this injustice.” “She called me a Pick-Me, abused me on her alt, and now she’s framing me. She really wants to drive me to death. If that’s the case, I have to use the law to protect myself.” Bella was terrified. She immediately ended her stream and fled. This brief victory resulted in her losing followers and me gaining 500,000. But I knew it wasn’t over. That night, she went to scout the abandoned building where she “committed suicide” in my past life. According to my monitor, she wasn’t just picking the best angle; she had someone rig a wire and specifically set up a safety cushion. In my past life, she claimed she would prove her innocence with death. In the suicide video, she edited out the wire using the night sky. Then she quickly had herself “cremated,” leaving only a pile of ash for the police. Because death absolves all, public opinion flipped. We, who were in the right, became murderers. Thinking of this, I anonymously called a number from my memory. “The chance for revenge is here. Want to cooperate?” “How?” “I’ll help you put Kevin in jail. You help me deal with Bella.” Lydia agreed without hesitation. If there’s anyone in this world who hates them more than me, it’s her. Her daughter, whom she loved for twenty years, was Bella’s assistant. Kevin raped her. Afterward, Bella not only didn’t help but accused the daughter of seduction, driving her to a mental breakdown and suicide. In my past life, Lydia sought me out to join forces. The hatred in her eyes was unforgettable. This time, I didn’t hesitate to make her my ally. Especially since she used to work in maintenance. She knows exactly how to make a wire fatal. After verifying the plan, we hung up. Then, I received an anonymous message.

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Liam Thorne sent a video to the group chat of me walking out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Every rich kid who ever chased me was in that chat, but Liam was undoubtedly the prettiest. [Liam, you’re a legend. What does the Ice Queen taste like? Let us have a turn?] [Liam really took one for the team. Sacrificing his body to seduce the valedictorian just to get revenge for his childhood sweetheart.] [Cold-hearted b*stard. Telling the nerd you have cancer right before finals? Her eyes have been red for days.] [Dumping her right after graduation.] I heard Liam send a lazy voice memo, his tone nothing like the pitiful act he put on for me. I skipped class constantly to be with him at the hospital; my grades plummeted. Liam lay weakly in the hospital bed, pulling out a forged cancer diagnosis, his eyes full of deep emotion. “Aria, I’m sorry. I’m dragging you down. Don’t spend any more money on my treatment.” He knew I was broke from trying to save him. Liam waited for me to give up on him. He never expected me to pull out another fifty thousand dollars—my life savings. The group chat blew up again: [B*tch! What does he have besides a pretty face! Why did Aria fall for him!] [She sold her apartment for him! That was her mom’s only legacy!] [Shameless scum. Carter, did you tell Aria the truth yet?] [Sh*t! Idiot! You sent that to the wrong chat! Liam is in this one! Delete it, quick!] The messages were retracted one by one. In the hospital bed, Liam’s face went pale. 1 Academics were always easy for me. Since I was little, if I wanted to be first in my grade, I was. I also inherited my mother’s good looks. Aside from being poor, I had almost no flaws. In middle school, my mother married a wealthy businessman. She left me a bank card. “Don’t contact me. I’ll wire you money every year.” She told everyone she was single; she didn’t want my existence to affect her second marriage. I felt nothing. I took the card and told everyone I was an orphan. I was born emotionally detached. My mother didn’t like me. She preferred daughters who could call her “Mommy” sweetly, even if it was a stepdaughter. Photos of a girl soon appeared frequently on her social media—the daughter of the businessman’s ex-wife. Her name was Bella Cruz, and she was stunning. My mother hugged her, while Bella pouted, wearing a fake, reluctant smile. For the first time, seeing someone else smile stung my eyes. Life was bland and boring. My only joy was finding people who could stir my emotions. So, I moved. I bought a small, 600-square-foot apartment in a good school district and transferred to Bella’s high school. 2 Just as I felt the first time I saw her, Bella loathed me. She led her little clique to bully me constantly. I didn’t argue with her. I just deliberately skipped school the week before the eight-school joint exam. Our school, Eastwood High, had been suppressed by the neighboring prep school for a long time. My grades were consistently first in the year; the administration would never want to see me miss the exam. When my homeroom teacher called, I gathered my courage and said, “Ms. Baker, can I transfer classes?” “Transfer?” Ms. Baker quickly picked up on the wrongness in my tone. She softened her voice. “Is someone in the class bothering you? Don’t be afraid, I’ll handle it for you!” I stammered, “No, no. It’s just… I don’t fit in very well.” Hanging up the phone, I put away the insecurity and cowardice I had feigned. I knew I was never a good person. I always pay back what I’m owed. Two days later, Ms. Baker called me to the school. The school had cameras everywhere. Ms. Baker spent a whole day checking the footage. After discovering that Bella had been targeting me openly and secretly for two months, she immediately reported it to the administration. The school took it very seriously. Bella stood under the flag during the assembly, red-eyed, choking back tears as she read her apology. She lost face completely and hated me to the bone from then on. “It’s all her fault! If her grades weren’t so good, the teachers wouldn’t protect her like this!” “Fake b*tch! Pick-me girl!” “Carter! Tell me! Will you help me or not!” Outside the corner coffee shop, Bella was crying and hugging a boy. The boy whispered comfortingly, “Don’t cry. Liam and I will definitely help you.” “Really?” Bella looked up, her nose red from crying. “What do you want me to do?” “Find someone to ruin her, take her virginity, then post the photos in the group chat. I want to see what right that b*tch has to be arrogant then!” Bella’s voice was venomous. The tall boy held her in his arms, smiling cynically. “A poor girl with no background is worth my princess crying like this? Wait till I train her to lick your feet on the ground.” 3 My boring life suddenly became much more interesting. For example, suddenly many people wanted to be my friends, all of them rich or noble. “Aria, that Michelin-star restaurant is great. I’ll take you.” Carter Reeves was in Class 11, 6’1″, a master at flirting. He was one of Bella’s helpers, her cousin. Good-looking, good family, loved to play the field. He pursued me openly. Because he was the only guy I occasionally responded to, rumors spread that we were dating. Ms. Baker called us to the office; the homeroom teacher of Class 11 was sitting next to her. Carter’s teacher was a stern man. He looked at Carter coldly. “Focus on your studies. If your grades are bad, don’t drag others down. I called your parents; write a 1,000-word reflection by tomorrow.” “Also, I talked to your parents yesterday. They don’t agree with you studying art. Don’t think art is a shortcut. Your art teacher told me you have too many ideas and aren’t suited for exams.” Carter clenched his fists tightly. His teacher rattled on like a machine gun. Noisy. When his teacher said again that Carter shouldn’t affect my studies, I interrupted him, my eyes devoid of emotion. “Sir, he won’t have any effect on me. I will take first place.” The teacher choked, about to explode, but Ms. Baker blocked him like a protective mother hen. “Alright, alright, you two can go.” 4 Later, Carter’s pursuit became even more intense. Always giving bags, money, finding boring topics. If he were chasing my mom, it would work. Too bad my mom had many suitors in the past; I was tired of these tricks. I looked at Carter wearily and rejected his advances. “Your grades are too bad.” Carter looked aggrieved. “Aria, not everyone finds studying as easy as you do.” “But you’re talented at drawing.” Carter’s face changed; the cynical expression vanished, and he sat up straight. “You really think I’m talented? The teachers say I draw nonsense, not following the rules.” “Mm.” I hummed a response. “You don’t think it’s useless?” He asked again. Then, he began to complain that his family wouldn’t let him paint and wanted to send him abroad. I interrupted him. “Okay, I’m going home.” If he were an experienced playboy, he would know not to expose his weakness to a woman who didn’t love him yet. He would be manipulated. “Aria, do you want me to teach you to draw?” Carter’s eyes were the best feature on his face—peach blossom eyes, full of affection. I liked beautiful things. I looked at him, smiling. “Your eyes are beautiful. Teach me to draw your eyes.” His ears turned red, his hand holding the brush trembling for a second. No matter how wild, he was only eighteen; sometimes, innocence slipped through. I looked at his ears and chuckled lightly. This was the person who said he’d make me lick feet on the ground? Just so-so. I compared his drawing with the horrific thing I just drew and said regretfully, “Looks like I have no talent for painting.” Carter laughed. “Aria, you’re really cute.” I put down the brush. “The painting got dirty. I don’t like dirty things. Same with men.” Carter’s face changed; he looked into my eyes. And I looked at the new drawing under his hand. The eyes in the drawing were mine. Those eyes were calm, without any love or ripples. He forced a smile and left in a hurry. I felt a malicious gaze. Bella stared at the brush on the ground. Carter treated his brushes like treasures, but today he left one behind. I picked up the brush and threw it in the trash. Maybe he’ll switch out soon. I hope the next one is more interesting.

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The internship ended, and I broke up with him. Owen Maxwell looked at me, a hint of an almost-smile playing on his lips. “Miss Sterling, is this really necessary?” The cold, sharp light of the high-rise office outlined his defined profile. “All this because I helped her close a client instead of you?” I nodded. “Of course it’s necessary. I’m breaking up with you.” He propped his chin on his hand, one eyebrow faintly raised. “Have you even kept count of how many times you’ve done this, Harper?” 1 I paused. He was lounging in his oversized leather chair, the picture of practiced ease. “The eighth? Ninth? Or the tenth?” He let out a low chuckle, his usual air of control fully intact. “Stop the drama. We’ve known each other for twenty years, Harper. You can’t leave me.” Seven years old when we met, twenty years of ingrained understanding—he genuinely believed I was essential to him, and he to me. I shook my head. “There’s no such thing as ‘can’t leave.’ Everyone survives just fine without anyone else.” “Oh, that’s your take, is it?” His lip curled, a touch of amusement in his eyes. “Fine. Don’t regret it.” “Never.” I turned to walk away, just as Willow Davis pushed the door open. She was holding a file. “Owen, the Launchpad project… I, I’m still a little unsure about the proposal. Could you possibly look over the strategy again?” Willow’s voice was soft and gentle, the perfect pitch of vulnerable appeal. Owen gave a noncommittal response, his attention still fixed on me. In the past, I would have coldly demanded, Your project. Why should Owen drop everything for you? But having this same fight, again and again, had simply exhausted me. I started to leave, but Willow reached out and lightly touched my arm. “Harper, please don’t misunderstand. Owen and I are just colleagues,” she said, a troubled look on her face and wide, innocent eyes. “I’m inexperienced, and this project is critical for my conversion to full-time, so I only asked Owen for some guidance. Please don’t fight with him over these small things. He stayed up several nights helping me outline the strategy, and it made his stomach problems flare up again…” I couldn’t stop myself. “Oh, ‘ordinary colleagues’ who text each other every night for ‘details’?” “‘Ordinary colleagues’ who insist he accompany you to every client dinner?” “‘Ordinary colleagues’ who make him test-drive your new car?” “‘Ordinary colleagues’ who call to ‘report on work’ specifically on our anniversary?” “Are you brainless or just have no boundaries? Since you know you’re the intern his mother pulled strings for, not his girlfriend, did that basic professional boundary you’re supposed to keep with colleagues just fly out the window?” Willow froze, her face instantly draining of color. She lowered her eyes, her long lashes fluttering as if she’d been subjected to some unimaginable cruelty. “Harper Sterling.” Owen got to his feet, pulling a tissue from his desk and holding it out to Willow. He sighed. “I know you’re headstrong, but do you always have to pick on someone who’s just trying to get by?” Willow’s lips trembled, and her eyes quickly filled with tears. The sound of her heavily suppressed sobs echoed in the quiet office. Suddenly, a profound, crushing flatness settled over me. I turned and left his office. 2 I slept for a few hours in my apartment and woke up deep in the night. I checked my phone, and the first thing I saw was Willow’s latest Instagram story. “The project is finally gaining traction. First time being brought to a high-end dinner like this—a little nervous! Thank you for the mentorship and believing in me. A scholarship kid from a small town truly understands that connections are never a shortcut, but a ladder to growth.” The accompanying photo: A high-angle shot from a sophisticated restaurant window overlooking the city lights. A woman’s hand, clearly Willow’s, is holding a slender Champagne flute. Next to it, a masculine hand, also holding a glass. On that hand, he was wearing the custom-made watch I gave him. At that moment, my phone buzzed. “Send me the final proposal for the Launchpad project. I’ll make sure it’s solid.” Seven hours. It took him seven hours, after finishing dinner with someone else, to finally think of me. I stared at his profile picture for a while—the one I’d chosen for him, a picture of the stray cat we adopted together. He hadn’t changed it in all these years. I tapped the screen, then blocked the familiar number. A half hour later, I went downstairs for a coffee. The local deli owner looked at me. “Woah, sweetie, why are your eyes so red?” I mumbled, “Too many late nights.” “You young people need to watch your health even when you’re chasing a career,” the owner said, recognizing me. “Still, that Owen Maxwell is quite the success. Running the core family projects right out of school. He’s set, but you’re working until dawn just to be in the same building as him. I get tired just watching you.” I ripped open the coffee packet. “Actually, I put in a transfer request, Ma’am. I’m moving to the divisional office in a few days.” The owner looked surprised. “But the Group’s HQ is here. The division is in California. What about you and Owen?” “Career and a relationship. I know which one to prioritize.” I took a sip of my coffee. “The opportunities are better out west. The moment the transfer is finalized, I’m gone.” She didn’t press further. My phone buzzed again. It was my best friend, Savannah, telling me to meet her at the yoga studio. “Go on, clear your head,” the owner said, waving me off. “You’ve been strung too tight lately.” 3 I got to the yoga studio twenty minutes later. Savannah told me to change, and as I was stuffing my bag into a locker, I heard a familiar voice from the adjacent lounge area. “I said relax, Maxell. Why are you still glued to your phone?” “Got blocked,” came Owen’s dismissive voice. “By who? Who dares to block you, Mr. CEO?” “Who else? My high-maintenance princess.” His voice held a note of weary inevitability. “Harper Sterling,” the other person realized. “Honestly, with her firecracker temper, I don’t know how anyone but you puts up with it.” Owen let out a low laugh. “My own doing. What can I do? I deal with it.” “What was it this time?” “I helped Willow with a project.” “That’s it?” The friend sounded incredulous. “Harper really has the smallest heart.” “But truly,” another voice cut in, “when we talk privately, we all agree. If we were choosing a girlfriend, we’d pick someone like Willow—gentle, understanding, considerate, a real caregiver…” I didn’t stay to hear more. I headed straight to the meditation area. When I met up with Savannah, I saw her arguing fiercely with Willow, who was wearing the yoga studio’s front-desk uniform. Of course. The universe found a way. Willow was working here part-time. “We booked VIP Room 3. Why did you assign us to a public class? You know Harper hates crowds!” Savannah demanded. Willow’s face was bright red. “Tonight is overbooked, and the system had a glitch…” “Then switch us! What do you mean you can’t switch us?” Willow saw me, as if I were a lifeline. She rushed forward. “Harper, I know I made a mistake with the booking, but I’ve already messed up twice tonight. If I make another error, I’ll lose this job… You, you don’t need the money, do you? Just help me out and manage in the public area tonight. Please?” I unrolled my yoga mat without looking up. “Are you confused? I don’t like public classes. You made a mistake. Why should I make accommodations for it? I didn’t fill out the form incorrectly.” “I’ll pay you the difference between the VIP and public class! I’m begging you, as a colleague…” Her tone was near-pleading. “I’m not like you. I need this money for rent and a down payment. This job is important to me…” “If it’s so important, why did you mess up? And why should someone else bear the consequences of your mistake?” My tone was impatient. “If Savannah hadn’t noticed, we would have been fighting for floor space in the crowded class. Now, I’m not even in the mood for it. I haven’t even filed a complaint, and you want me to pay for your error?” Savannah backed me up. “Seriously, that’s an insane demand.” Despite the fact that Willow was clearly in the wrong, her expression shifted to one of deep humiliation. “So you people with money and influence, you really think you can look down on everyone else…” She abruptly snatched the reservation sheet from the desk and rushed out, nearly colliding with a group of men entering the studio. “Willow?” one of them, sharp-eyed, called out. “What’s wrong? Who upset you?” Willow shook her head, but her tear-filled eyes immediately sought out Owen, who was standing behind the group. “What’s going on?” Owen walked toward us. “She messed up the reservation, canceled our VIP room, and refused to switch us, insisting we squeeze into the public class,” Savannah explained. “It wasn’t intentional,” Willow muttered, head bowed. “It’s just a misunderstanding, everyone here is connected,” someone tried to smooth things over. “You two ladies can’t just pay for another VIP slot?” “It’s not ‘just’ a misunderstanding! You know Harper hates crowds! She almost had an anxiety attack at the company retreat because the ballroom was too packed.” Owen looked into the room and saw me. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “Did you touch her?” I scoffed. “You hope I touched her, don’t you? I wouldn’t give the studio the trouble.” He walked closer, softening his voice. “Enough. It’s not like there was a scene in the public area. Why are you fighting? She didn’t do it on purpose. Take your anger out on me, not someone who’s just trying to make it. It’s not easy for her just starting out.” “Mr. Maxwell, do you truly think your face is the only thing that matters? I’m taking my anger out on you? Are you blind or deaf? The person who messed up is the victim in your story?” “It’s fine, Owen. I’ll try to coordinate and see if there are any other empty VIP rooms.” Willow sniffled, gently tugging his sleeve. “I don’t want my commission for tonight. Don’t, don’t cause any trouble…” Seeing her play the role of the martyr, my temper flared. “Who asked you to play the good Samaritan? You’re the one who made the mistake, yet you’re acting all self-sacrificing. Where do you get the nerve?” “Harper Sterling.” Owen’s voice went dangerously low. “That’s enough. Don’t take it too far.” He turned to Willow. “Book them another VIP room. Put the cost on my personal tab.” “No need,” I said, gathering my mat and handing it to Savannah. “Owen can donate to charity on his own time. Savannah, let’s go.” “Tch, what a temper,” someone muttered under their breath. 4 Savannah and I walked out together. “I’m sorry, Harp,” she said, frustrated. “I should have just let it go and booked another VIP room myself. Then you wouldn’t have had to deal with Owen again.” “Why should I let it go?” I walked quickly. “Just because she knows how to look pathetic, her mistake becomes someone else’s problem?” “Besides,” I stopped walking. “I broke up with him this afternoon.” Savannah walked silently beside me. “You don’t believe me?” She sighed. “To be honest, Harper, no one will believe you’ve actually broken up with Owen Maxwell for good.” “And anyway,” she looked at me. “Can you actually let him go?” Sitting in the cab on the way back, Savannah’s words echoed in my mind. Can you actually let him go? I asked the driver to pull over a block from my apartment. I needed to walk. The first time I saw Owen was on this very tree-lined avenue. I had just been brought back to the city by my aunt, and the neighborhood kids always pointed and whispered about me. “Heard her parents divorced and neither of them wanted her?” “Her mom ran off, and her dad doesn’t care about her…” “Tsk. A rootless wild child.” That evening, I avoided everyone, walked to the river embankment, and climbed over the rail. I thought that if I were gone, my aunt wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. I don’t know how Owen appeared, but he grabbed the back of my jacket and held on for dear life. From that day on, the seven-year-old boy constantly trailed me, as if he was afraid I’d find another opportunity to jump. The change in my family made me sensitive and stubborn. I bristled, I yelled, I cursed, I even shoved him, but he never got angry. And he never left. When the Maxwell adults called him home, he’d look up at them with his small face and say he couldn’t leave, because he had to stand guard, to make sure his particular star didn’t burn out or fall into the river. Idiot, I thought. In elementary school, some girls laughed and called me a rootless wild child. Owen charged at them like a small leopard. “Who said she doesn’t have a family?!” His face was scratched, but he yelled, head held high, “My home is her home!” The crowd dispersed, and I looked at him coldly. “Your home isn’t my home.” “It will be,” he tried to smile, but winced from the pain of his injury. “You’ll marry me later, won’t you?” The wall around my heart cracked right then. I reached out and helped him up from the ground. Two small, dirty hands clasped together, and they stayed that way for twenty years. Until our sophomore year in college, when Willow Davis came to the Group for an internship. She was a scholarship student funded by Owen’s mother. Because she showed decent aptitude, she was placed in the corporate summer program. The first time I saw her was after the celebration party for Owen’s first independent project. I went to his apartment with a gift, planning to surprise him, but I heard him talking to Willow in the hallway. “This, this is just a small token of my appreciation—a scarf I knitted for you myself.” Willow’s voice was humble. “It’s certainly not as expensive as what Harper gives you, but… it’s the result of several all-nighters.” “Thank you. Sincerity is the most precious gift,” Owen said. A spark of raw anger shot through me. I pushed the door open. “What do you mean, ‘not as expensive as what I send’? Send what you want, but why do you have to step on me? Are things I buy with money suddenly void of sincerity?” “I, I didn’t mean that.” Seeing me, she jumped, quickly trying to explain. Owen walked her out. “What’s the big deal?” He closed the door, smiling as he ruffled my hair. “I don’t like her.” “Her family has had a rough time—father passed away, mother is often sick. It wasn’t easy for her to get into a top university and land this internship. My mom asked me to mentor her.” He said it would only be a few months. But those few months became the period when we argued the most. Willow would always show up during my dates with Owen, either asking for advice on a proposal or needing him to introduce her to clients or handle a difficult account executive. When I gave her the cold shoulder, she would just lower her eyes and remain silent. Everyone who saw us assumed I was bullying her. Even Owen thought I was overreacting. “It’s just a small favor, Harper. Why can’t I help her out? I don’t like her. Why are you always so jealous?” But she just got under my skin. She called him away on his birthday, claiming her project had an emergency she couldn’t handle. She ruined a client meeting and made Owen go bail her out, while I waited for him at the restaurant until the food was cold. She’d hound him every night to help her revise her presentations; sometimes, I’d be standing right behind him, and they would be so focused they wouldn’t even notice. Everyone told me not to be petty. She has a hard life. Just help her. But the splinter in my heart couldn’t be pulled out. I’d fought, given him the silent treatment, and broken up with him. But every time we separated, I’d suffer from insomnia, and inevitably, I’d be the one to swallow my pride and ask to reconcile, even trying to convince myself to be more accommodating. Savannah was right. I couldn’t let go. It was true. Twenty years of entanglement was rooted in my very marrow; every attempt to peel it away was agonizing. I feared the pain, so I compromised repeatedly. Until last month. My critical project was maliciously attacked by a rival firm and ended up in a stalemate. I called Owen over a dozen times; no answer. I fought alone until past midnight, relying on my own years of networking to barely stabilize the situation. Afterward, I learned he was preparing a crucial presentation for Willow and had his phone on silent. He had no idea my project was about to collapse. In that moment, I suddenly felt that breaking up, actually, might not be that hard.

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The day before New Year’s, I stumbled across a goodbye post from a guy online. He wrote that he’d been diagnosed with cancer, and the woman he loved was about to marry someone else. The raw ache and profound regret woven into every sentence stopped me cold, and I felt a pang of sympathy for a total stranger. It wasn’t until I recognized the familiar user profile picture that my blood ran cold. The man posting was my best friend, the brother I’d been inseparable from for more than two decades: Leo. He ended the post with a final, devastating line: “I left a letter for her—my last will, maybe—and I won’t be at the wedding.” “Sometimes, parting ways is the only way to be together forever.” Panic seized me. Without a second thought, I rushed to find my fiancée, Scarlett. I had to convince her to help me track down Leo before he did something drastic. Instead, I found what I was looking for, tucked deep inside the pocket of her winter coat: the thousand-word letter Leo had mentioned. And I, Dean—the man scheduled to get engaged to Scarlett on New Year’s Day—was holding it. 1 My frantic, ragged breathing eventually began to steady. My fingers—sweat-slicked and trembling—clutched the envelope I’d taken from Scarlett’s coat. My mind was a dead zone. She was currently in a meeting, just steps away. The script on the front, elegant and achingly familiar, belonged to my lifelong best friend, Leo. A visceral fear coiled in my stomach. If this was the letter Leo had written, the will he mentioned… then Scarlett was the woman he loved, the one he couldn’t be with. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate to escape. I slipped into the nearest restroom, feeling like a thief, and tore open the seal. All my desperate prayers for a misunderstanding turned to ash the moment my eyes scanned the contents. Leo, my closest friend, and Scarlett, my fiancée, had been betraying me for the last three years. In his final words, Leo detailed how they used burner accounts to talk through the night. How they’d planned a future while I remained clueless. They had even adopted a stray dog behind my back. They named it together, then lied to me, pretending it was a chance encounter. I read, word by painful word, the entire, intricate history of their profound entanglement. The letter ended with the paper stained with his tears and his despair. “Scarlett, I can’t bear to watch you exchange vows with Dean.” “You and Dean are the people I love most. I hope you both find your happily-ever-after.” “I can’t let Dean down. Falling for you was the single most pathetic, selfish thing I’ve ever done.” “Maybe fate is punishing me, taking back the rest of my life. I’m not doing the chemo. I’ll tell Dean I’m leaving the country. You don’t need to mourn me.” “Scarlett, forget me. Be good to Dean. Next life, just choose me first. How great would that be?” I stumbled back, bracing myself against the cold tile wall, sucking in air in huge, shallow gasps. Leo was dying. And so, he had decided to “give” Scarlett to me. The sheer absurdity of the thought made me want to scream.

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“Who the hell adjusted the threading tolerance by seven-thousandths of a millimeter?!” “I did. Got a problem with that?” The factory’s resident Human Lucky Charm was applying lip gloss in the reflection of a polished machine panel, not even bothering to look up. “I just thought it looked better, so I made a tiny adjustment. Why are you screaming?” The production line had been running to the wrong specification for twenty-four hours. I slammed the emergency stop button. I forced my anger down. “It doesn’t meet the export standard now. We can’t ship tomorrow. We’ve worked overtime for a month, and the penalties will wipe out any profit—and then some!” “Seriously? It’s one number. You’re being so dramatic.” Skylar Bloom snapped her compact shut. “It’s New Year’s Eve, and I have a date. I’m not sticking around to watch you panic!” Before she could reach the exit, I motioned for a floor manager to lock the main bay doors. “On a precision component like this, that one number represents a million dollars.” I fixed her with a cold stare. “You can take this pile of defective parts and explain that to the regulatory inspectors.” 1 Skylar paused, stunned for a fraction of a second, then scoffed. “Don’t go acting like this is the apocalypse. What difference does 0.007mm make? You can still screw it in, right?” She grabbed a nearby component and twisted it into a wooden block a few times, her expression smug. “See? No difference. You’re just jealous of my easy job and looking for a fight.” I suppressed a weary sigh and picked up the spec sheet. “The buyer for this batch is a high-tech firm overseas. Their compliance standards are strict. 28 TPI corresponds to a pitch of 0.907mm. This is for precision instruments.” I tapped the sheet. “Your little adjustment of 0.007mm is going to cause slippage, strip the threads, and damage expensive equipment. We won’t pass customs and compliance, and the company won’t just owe massive penalties for late delivery—our entire corporate credibility will be destroyed.” “You call this ‘looking for a fight’?” Watching the blank look in Skylar’s eyes, I knew her simple brain couldn’t process the technical complexity. Sure enough, the next second, she huffed and faced me. “Don’t think you can baffle me with a bunch of fancy technical jargon.” “I’m calling someone who knows what they’re talking about. Let’s see if you still have the guts to bully me then!” The phone connected quickly. Loud bar noise crackled through the speaker. “Skylar, where are you? I’ve been waiting forever.” Skylar’s voice immediately turned whiny. “Brad, I wanted to come, but Anya’s locking the doors and won’t let me leave.” “She keeps saying that because of me, we won’t meet the delivery deadline tomorrow—” “Nonsense!” Brad Harrison roared. “Put her on speaker. I’ll talk to her.” Skylar hit the speaker button, her eyes daring me, the look clearly saying, Let’s see you squirm. “Brad, Skylar unilaterally adjusted the production specs. The screws we produced are non-compliant with international standards—” Brad cut me off, his voice laced with aggression. “Anya Reed, are you still struggling to understand your place here?” “Skylar is the Human Lucky Charm I brought in to draw in prosperity. She’s willing to even step onto the floor, and that’s a privilege for you. How dare you cross her?” “If she gets upset, the company will have bad luck. Can you handle the consequences of that?!” I knew that business owners often believe in luck or superstition. But whatever the future held, the immediate disaster was the priority. I was about to explain, but Skylar jumped in. “Brad, that’s what I told her! But she keeps using this scary professional language to intimidate me.” “She even threatened that the company is doomed! I was so angry, I had to call you.” Eighteen years in this industry. It was the first time I’d ever met someone so gifted at twisting the truth. Logic told me I couldn’t waste any more time arguing with her. I needed to immediately convey the severity of the situation. I grabbed the contract and pointed to the fine print. “Brad, I’m not threatening bad luck. If we can’t deliver tomorrow, the buyer has the right to demand three times the penalty fee.” “Plus, they are a major global player. Messing up this order means we lose access to the entire Western market. The losses are truly incalculable!” Brad Harrison, Mr. Maxwell’s sister’s husband and the newest VP, usually acted like the big shot, but he valued money above all else. I thought this would finally get his attention. Instead, he sneered. “It hasn’t happened yet, has it?” “If it weren’t for Skylar gracing the floor with her presence, do you think we would have even landed those contracts?” “And besides, failing to meet the production deadline is your job, not hers. Don’t try to pin your failure on Skylar. You deliver that product tomorrow, or I’m holding you responsible!” I nearly laughed out loud from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. This order took our sales team three months to secure. It had nothing to do with Skylar. All she’d done since arriving was cause chaos. I gritted my teeth. “Brad, I refuse to knowingly ship defective products. Customs will never clear it.” The laughter on the other end grew louder. Brad sounded completely irritated. “I hired you to solve problems, not create headaches for me.” “Give me a straight answer, Anya: Do you want this job or not?” 2 Mr. Maxwell—Brad’s brother-in-law and the actual owner of the company—had lured me away from my last job with a salary 20% above the industry average. He respected my stringent quality control. I took a deep breath. “Brad, since you refuse to address this situation, I have no choice but to report directly to Mr. Maxwell.” At the mention of the owner, Brad’s fury intensified. “Anya, going over my head is a serious offense. Besides, my brother-in-law is ill and recovering. If you upset him, can you handle the consequences?” “I’m in charge of this floor now. Reporting to him undermines my authority. Where does that leave me?” “Stay right there. Don’t move. I’m coming down.” It wasn’t long before Brad stormed into the factory bay. The first thing he did was snatch my phone. “I hate people who don’t follow the chain of command.” He flopped into a chair, his tone mocking. “So, tell me. What is this earth-shattering issue you’re threatening to take to the owner?” I ignored the sarcasm and recounted Skylar’s unauthorized spec change. Brad leaned back, contemplating. “Skylar, why did you do that?” I thought, finally, he’s listening. “Because the Vibe Consultant said I shouldn’t see too many decimal points,” Skylar said, linking her arm through his. “You’ve been complaining that this department’s profits are shrinking. But everyone says Anya is so competent. It doesn’t add up. I think Anya is exaggerating, Brad. She’s probably padding the specs by 0.007mm just to claim extra material costs. That’s at least seven thousand dollars per million screws. She’s probably been skimming off the top for years!” Skylar was accusing me of fraud, and everyone understood it. A few workers spoke up for me. “Brad, Anya is not like that!” “She’s incredibly responsible. Anyone else, maybe, but never her.” “She pays for our late-night catering out of her own pocket when we work overtime. She won’t even accept a bottle of water from us. She would never steal!” Most of these men and women had followed me from my previous company years ago. My eyes stung a little. To speak up when Brad was at his most aggressive meant risking their jobs. Skylar sneered. “That just proves Anya thinks your little contributions are beneath her.” “Brad, she’s so desperate she’s threatening the owner. I think something suspicious is going on. You should have Internal Affairs audit her books!” Brad, eager for an excuse to assert his power, immediately agreed. “Audit her! I want a deep dive into everything!” He then ordered the remaining crew to triple their efforts to meet the deadline. A few veteran employees tried to object, but he shouted them down. “Anyone who doesn’t want to work can leave right now!” he bellowed. “But consider it a voluntary resignation. Don’t expect severance or any of that piled-up overtime pay!” They had all been working crazy hours for this order for a month. Losing their jobs and their paychecks would ruin their families. The workers lowered their heads, defeated. I raised my voice again. “Brad, the screws we made yesterday are defective. We can’t—” Before I could finish, Brad had two security guards clamp a hand over my mouth and drag me away. He had me locked in a utility closet. A short while later, two Internal Affairs staff arrived. Skylar followed, acting as the lead whistleblower. She pointed a finger at me. “I saw Anya giving an envelope of cash to the Accounting Department!” “Do you have proof?” one of the IA staff asked. “Yes, look at this!” 3 Skylar produced a grainy photo. It showed me handing a thick manila envelope to our staff accountant, who was holding it to her chest. The IA officer’s expression hardened. “Anya Reed, how do you explain this?” I stared at the picture. That was the day I had taken the factory’s collective donation—I was the representative who visited her in the hospital. But the angle was deliberately misleading. It looked less like a charitable gift and more like a clandestine transaction. The IA officer adjusted his glasses. “We will verify your account. Next, let’s discuss the alleged financial discrepancy.” I was frustrated but detailed the situation again, explaining why the 0.007mm adjustment was not padding the books but sabotage. The IA staff were older employees, not yet fully swayed by Brad. They finished their questions and left. My young apprentice, Leo, slipped into the closet while the door was momentarily unguarded. He whispered that Skylar had already posted everything online. Skylar had already built a minor online following based on her ‘Human Lucky Charm’ persona—everyone admired her high salary and easy job. She had just posted a video detailing how she had discovered a management loophole and saved the company from a major fraud. The comments section was a toxic mess. “OMG, the audacity! Not only is this girl lucky, she’s smart too! The Human Lucky Charm is real!” “That Plant Manager totally deserved it! Who messes with the Good Luck Mascot? Busted for embezzlement, serves her right.” “Finally! My parents work on the floor, they work so hard, and people like Anya hurt their paychecks. She should be fired and prosecuted!” “Piece of trash! If I saw her on the street, I’d punch her!” …A rare comment defending me was instantly buried. Reading the venom, I felt icy cold. Skylar wasn’t just looking for a win; she was trying to destroy my career. I quickly regained my focus and gave Leo instructions. “Copy the surveillance footage from the past week. Especially the part where Skylar changed the numbers and our confrontation.” “Also, Brad is useless. Go to my desk, find Mr. Maxwell’s private contact card in the top drawer, and tell him everything that’s happening.” Leo looked distressed. “The footage I can get, but your office is locked. I can’t get in.” “Find a way, Leo. Mr. Maxwell is the only person who can stop Brad now!” Leo nodded and slipped out. Skylar returned after seeing the IA staff off. She smiled, watching me sitting there disheveled. “Anya, everyone knows Brad favors me. Why would you set yourself up for this?” She picked up the technical documents I had compiled, scribbling all over them with a permanent marker. “What good is all this work? I can get more done with one sentence than you can with a hundred pages.” “Brad told me to keep an eye on production. I missed my New Year’s Eve date, but ruining your career is a good enough substitute!” I couldn’t fathom the depth of her malice. I had only been professional. Yet, she had constantly disrupted my work, picked fights, and even rear-ended my car trying to beat me to the parking lot. Seeing my confusion, a flash of pure spite crossed her eyes. “Don’t play innocent, Anya. I’ve hated you since the day I walked in.” “Yes, you’re competent, but you think I only got this job because of my ‘lucky chart,’ and I earned this! You wouldn’t let me drop the decimal points? Fine. Then I’ll change the strength ratings—the 4.8, 8.8, and 12.8—to 5, 9, and 13. You can’t complain about those numbers, can you?” Her ignorance horrified me. Those numbers represented the tensile strength and load-bearing capacity. Exceeding the maximum could lead to structural failure and collapse! “Skylar, you’ve made a catastrophic mistake! You can’t touch those numbers!” I jumped up to run out and stop the production line, but Skylar mistook my panic for an escape attempt. She immediately yelled for the guards outside. “Tie her up! And muzzle that doom-and-gloom mouth! Brad said she’s not to leave until the investigation is complete!” 4 My mouth was taped shut, and I was tied to a chair. I could only watch Skylar sashay out. I struggled, but the combination of exhaustion and the tight ropes made me lose my balance, and I crashed to the floor, chair and all. I knew the company was doomed. Early the next morning, Brad arrived to oversee the shipping. He finished the process and burst into the closet, grinning triumphantly. He dangled a thick document in front of me. “Anya, you’re stuck in a junior manager mindset because you’re not flexible enough. See this? Customs clearance!” “If I had listened to you and delayed the shipment, we would have paid a fortune in penalties!” I managed a strained smile, despite the gag. Originally, it was just a delay and a penalty. Now that they had shipped and used the defective screws, the entire finished product would be affected. This was far beyond a simple breach of contract. There’s no reasoning with the willfully blind. I was helpless. With the shipment out, Brad was ecstatic. He draped an arm around Skylar. “Skylar, thanks to your presence, we delivered the goods without paying a single penalty. Name your reward!” Skylar’s eyes immediately welled up. “Brad, you’re already so good to me.” “I don’t want anything… except a public apology from Anya. I want her to clear my name.” “Done! Consider it handled.” Brad had the guards haul me out and gather everyone on the floor. “I called this meeting to address Anya Reed’s abuse of power and alleged embezzlement,” he announced. “Skylar Bloom uncovered the fraud and saved the company from a major economic loss. Effective immediately, Skylar is the new Department Head!” “As for Anya, once the investigation is complete, we’ll turn her over to the authorities.” He had the guards pull the tape off my mouth. “Anya, you owe Skylar an apology.” I stretched my jaw, which was sore from the tape. “I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do.” “Brad Harrison, you’re celebrating too soon. The hole Skylar just dug is too deep for you to climb out of.” Perhaps Brad hadn’t expected me to refuse, especially after he’d ostensibly ‘solved’ the problem. I had publicly humiliated him. He grabbed my collar, eyes blazing. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Anya. Once this is out, no firm in this industry will touch you.” He was still using that as leverage, clearly unaware Skylar had already posted everything online. It wouldn’t work on me. He leaned in, his voice low and cruel. “You brought fifty people with you when you jumped ship, right? They’re older, they have families to feed. What if I fire all of them?” His threat sent a jolt through the crowd. The workers who had followed me were skilled technicians. They erupted in anger. “Anya, don’t listen to him! We’re skilled workers; we can find jobs anywhere!” “Yeah! A pigheaded leader like him is a liability! We don’t need him!” “Brad, you don’t fire us—we fire you!” A few of them tore off their company uniforms and moved to usher me out. The situation was spiraling out of Brad’s control. He started to panic. Then, a stern, booming voice cut through the chaos. “What is going on here?!” Brad spun around, his face lighting up with relief. “Brother-in-law, you’re finally here!”

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