I was snatched by a mob boss, while my best friend was forced to marry a corporate elite. The day of the family gala— My best friend and I stared at each other in shock. The mob boss and the corporate elite were brothers. Biological ones. The boss and the elite were busy making money. My best friend and I were busy spending it. Until their adopted sister returned from abroad— The maids whispered that she was the “white moonlight” both brothers couldn’t have. My best friend, Chloe: “I scraped together some cash. Wanna run?” Me: “Good thing I hoarded gold bars. Let’s go.” But when I walked down the jet bridge, I boarded the mob boss’s private jet. He smirked devilishly: “Woman, what am I going to do with you?” 1 “Chloe, why did you touch my things?” “…I’m sorry. I thought it was a gift for me. I didn’t know it was for Jenny.” From twenty feet away, I could hear my best friend Chloe arguing with her husband, Julian Sterling. “Jenny is my sister. I don’t care what you do usually, but don’t get any ideas about her.” “Julian, you don’t trust me… You’re being so mean to me for her.” Julian’s voice was cold, flat. Chloe sobbed quietly, sounding wronged. I wanted to eavesdrop more, but Julian suddenly opened the door. “…Hi, good evening.” I waved awkwardly. Julian’s face instantly returned to his polite, corporate smile: “Good evening, sister-in-law.” … “Chloe, what happened? I heard you guys arguing from down the hall.” I tiptoed to close the door and pulled my best friend onto the couch for gossip. Chloe dropped her pitiful act instantly, her face full of disdain: “That dog of a man definitely has issues. I just tested him, and his true colors came out.” I paused. “You know too?” “Yeah, even the lady who cleans the cat litter knows. The adopted sister, Jenny, is coming back to the States.” I slapped the table. “She’s the white moonlight of these two brothers!” Chloe rolled her eyes. “The kind they almost fell out over.” We exchanged a meaningful look. Chloe leaned in, looking like a thief: “I scraped together some cash. Wanna run?” I smiled mysteriously: “You can always count on me. Good thing I hoarded gold bars. Let’s go.” She looked at me deeply: “What, you willing to leave your cool, domineering husband for me?” “Pfft!” I rolled my eyes this time: “Does he think I don’t know? He chased me like a maniac because I look a bit like Jenny. Now that the real deal is back, am I supposed to stay here and die?” We hit it off immediately. We spent the night planning our escape with the same energy we used to pull all-nighters for college projects. Everything was ready. We just needed the right moment. 2 “I’m a genius.” Thinking about our flawless escape plan, I laughed out loud in bed. As long as I could eat, drink, and gossip with Chloe, I’d be satisfied. Thinking back, I was inexplicably chosen by Dante, inexplicably snatched, and inexplicably dragged to a family gala. Then I heard his people say: “This girl really looks like Miss Jenny.” I understood instantly. The “replacement trope” had landed on me. I was just a happy girl who liked staying home and playing video games. Why did fate do this to me? I was stubborn and unyielding. Until I saw Chloe at the gala—my best friend since childhood. Since she was forced into a marriage with a business tycoon six months ago, I had lost contact with her. “Boohoo, I looked everywhere for you!” Under everyone’s shocked gaze, Chloe and I hugged and cried. Then I learned that Dante, the mob boss hiding in the shadows, and the dazzling Julian were biological brothers. One took their dad’s last name, one took their mom’s. I turned to Dante with a sweet smile: “I’ve thought it through. I’ll stay.” … “Hey, why are you drooling?” Half-asleep, Dante, the mob boss who had just done god-knows-what, came back. He leaned in and wiped the corner of my mouth. “Hehe… hehehe…” I was still dreaming of running to freedom with Chloe. Vaguely, I felt a warm body lie down next to me. Strong arms pulled me into his embrace familiarly… Whatever. Enjoying this before leaving wasn’t a bad idea. 3 When I woke up the next day, it was already 10 AM. Unexpectedly, Dante, who usually left before dawn, was still there, leaning against the bed playing with a camera. “What are you looking at?” I leaned over to look. I saw a photo of me sleeping on his chest, drooling. I rolled away grumpily. Dante mocked me: “Evidence. So you can’t deny it later.” He reached out and scooped me back, planting a hard kiss on the corner of my mouth. This damn refined man, always smelling of expensive cologne. “By the way, Jenny is coming back tomorrow. Come with me to pick her up.” My heart skipped a beat guiltily. Usually, Dante and Julian were elusive. It was hard to find a time when both were distracted. Only when they both went to pick up Jenny could Chloe and I escape smoothly. I pretended to be calm: “Oh, tomorrow? But I promised to go to the doctor with a friend.” Dante raised an eyebrow. Before he could ask, I rattled off: “Don’t worry, it’s a girl, a former colleague. She’s alone here and doesn’t know anyone. Only I can go with her.” Dante was hostile to any male near me, but lenient with female friends. He thought for a moment: “Alright. Come home early, stay safe.” “And… the flu is going around. Keep your mask on at the hospital. Don’t take it off.” Hmm. If he didn’t constantly remind me I was a pitiful replacement, Dante wasn’t a bad guy. 4 It was like God was helping us. The night before the escape, Dante was busy with something and didn’t come home all night. I used the excuse of walking the dog to send out my two large suitcases early. But at the agreed time, Chloe didn’t show up. One hour, two hours… Her phone went straight to voicemail. Until I was bored scrolling TikTok and saw a glimpse of Chloe on a gossip account. She looked like she wanted to curse. “The Sterling family’s adopted daughter Jenny returns! What miracles will this gilded genius pianist create? Especially the old stories with her two brothers…” I understood instantly. Chloe couldn’t get away. Julian dragged her to the airport to pick up Jenny. I cursed my brother-in-law a hundred times in my heart. He fought with his wife over Jenny two days ago, and today he forced her to meet his white moonlight. Scumbag! Total scumbag! Finally, at dinner time, the group returned home. A radiant Jenny, and a lifeless Chloe. Having watched videos all afternoon, I knew Jenny had been acting like an arrogant peacock since she landed, giving Chloe a hard time. “Ah, is this my sister-in-law? You look… older than I imagined.” She looked at me, blinking her big eyes, spewing venom. “Oh, this must be sister Jenny. Flying ten hours is tough, huh? Your skin is so dry, look at those fine lines. And those smile lines are deep. Did you suffer abroad?” I leaned in to examine her. Sure enough, Jenny’s smug face contorted. But being a seasoned white moonlight, she immediately looked pitifully at Dante and Julian: “Brothers, does sister-in-law not like me? Did Jenny do something wrong?” As expected, Julian didn’t dare say anything to me, but Dante’s face dropped. “Ava, looks like I spoiled you too much. Watch your mouth. Apologize to Jenny!” I acted scared: “Sister Jenny…” I suddenly grabbed Chloe’s hand and ran. “Your hair is dry too! And your hairline is receding. Suggest getting a new hairstyle!” Bullying my best friend, humiliating me in public, and wanting an apology? These three jerks deserved each other!

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Chapter 1 My granddaughter, Lily, was bullied by a classmate. Instead of apologizing, the other family was incredibly arrogant. Just because they had connections in the city government, when I went to the school, the school dared not intervene. When I went to the police, the police told me to let it go. They even arrogantly told me they had people in the court system and dared me to sue. With no other recourse, I had to take out the two Medals of Honor left by my son and daughter-in-law after their deaths and kneel at the gate of the military base. Six years ago, when the commander personally delivered these two Medals of Honor to my home, he said: My son and daughter-in-law died for their country. They were heroes, martyrs, and the pride of the nation. But now, I want to ask him again: Why is the daughter of martyrs being bullied, and no one cares? … Just because my granddaughter is an orphan, she became the target of the school bully. She was dragged into the restroom by the bully, beaten and humiliated for seven hours, and ended up in the emergency room in critical condition. The bully, Tiffany Taft, chewed gum fearlessly. “Even if you sue me, I’m not afraid. I know the law. I’m a minor. At most, I’ll get a scolding. I won’t go to jail.” Her expression was relaxed, showing no sign of remorse. The bully’s parent also looked disdainful. “Look at you, nitpicking. You just want more money, don’t you?” “I can give you money, but you have to sign a settlement agreement stating that your granddaughter’s injuries were caused by her own fall and have nothing to do with my daughter!” After saying that, he took out ten thousand dollars from his bag and threw it in my face. He sneered contemptuously, “Your granddaughter gets beaten up, and you earn ten grand. There’s no easier way to make money in the world.” I looked at my granddaughter lying on the hospital bed, tubes inserted all over her body. Under the loose hospital gown were shocking scars. Burns, cuts, lacerations, layer upon layer. I couldn’t imagine how desperate she must have been during those seven hours of bullying. But now, Lily’s suffering was just a bargaining chip measured in money in their eyes. Furious, I rushed up to grab him but was pushed down. My blood pressure medicine scattered from my pocket, along with two golden star-shaped medals. I crawled over to pick them up, but he stepped on them, mocking me, “Old man, if you’re not convinced, go ahead and sue us. Let me tell you, the chief judge is my cousin. See if you can win.” The principal beside him signaled them to leave quickly and not agitate the victim’s family any further. With that, the father and daughter swaggered away. I hurriedly picked up the two star-shaped medals stained with mud, looked at my unconscious granddaughter, and tears couldn’t stop falling. Chapter 2 The principal helped me up from the ground and earnestly advised me, “The Taft family has money and power. You, an ordinary citizen, can’t fight them. Sign the settlement agreement early, take some compensation, and let this matter go.” “Continuing to make a fuss will only affect our school’s reputation. How will parents outside view the school?” I was shocked. My granddaughter was bullied at school, and the principal’s first thought was the school’s reputation, not justice! I couldn’t believe these words came from an educator. My granddaughter was abused into the hospital by a school bully, and a light sentence about compensation was the end of it? Shouldn’t the perpetrator be punished? Seeing that he couldn’t convince me, the principal lost patience. “Besides, they are willing to pay. What more do you want? Do you have to drive people to death?” The principal coldly pulled a file from his briefcase and threw it at me. “If you don’t sign the settlement agreement, Lily Zhang won’t be studying at our school anymore!” I couldn’t believe it. To protect the bully, the principal threatened to expel my granddaughter. What right did he have to do that? The principal sneered and said that Tiffany Taft’s relatives were judges, and the interpretation of the law was in their hands. I would never win a lawsuit. The school wouldn’t offend the children of leaders for a poor kid like Lily Zhang. Holding my granddaughter’s file, I leaned against the cold wall of the hallway. An indescribable bitterness pressed on my heart. We obviously did nothing wrong; why are we the ones getting hurt? Chapter 3 After composing myself, I returned to the ward. After waking up, Lily kept curling herself up in the quilt, refusing to come out. Seeing her shivering in the blanket, my heart ached even more. I walked over and held her in my arms. She nestled in my arms, sobbing. “Grandpa, it hurts… it’s so uncomfortable…” “Tiffany Taft and the others hit me, bullied me, said I was a child with no parents, born to be bullied. But I clearly have parents.” “Didn’t Mom and Dad say they would come home to see me when I turned 10?” “I’m already 15? Why haven’t they come back yet? Did I do something wrong, and they don’t want me anymore?” “Is it because I secretly ate ice cream when I was little?” “Grandpa, can you tell Mom and Dad that I know I was wrong? I won’t eat ice cream anymore. I’ll be a good, obedient child…” “I miss Mom and Dad so much… If they were here, they wouldn’t dare to bully Lily…” Listening to Lily’s cries, I clutched the medals in my pocket, my heart aching like it was being cut by a knife. Six years ago, when the military commander handed these two medals to me, I hid them away, afraid to let Lily see them. If Lily knew the truth about her parents’ sacrifice, it would mean she really had no parents… I gritted my teeth, trying hard not to let tears fall. Child, how can I tell you that your parents will never come back… “Grandpa, you said only bad kids who do wrong things get punished? But I really didn’t do anything, and they rushed over to bully me…” Enduring the bitterness, I touched her head and comforted her, “Lily has always been a good child. They are the bad ones.” “Bad people will definitely be punished.” Lily looked at me with teary eyes, full of hope. After finally coaxing my granddaughter to sleep. I went to the police station to report the crime. But the police’s answer sank my heart to the bottom. Tiffany Taft’s parents were the richest people in the city, and they had relatives who were officials. Even the police were helpless against their family. The police officer sighed heavily, then looked at me with sympathy. “The city government leaders are their relatives, and they even have connections in the province. You can’t fight their family. Just endure it.” I walked out of the police station gate in despair. Even the police couldn’t help. My heart felt like it had fallen into an ice cave. Just then, my phone beeped. I clicked it open, and my heart suddenly tightened. It was a video of Lily being bullied! Chapter 4 In the video, my granddaughter was surrounded by a group of them in a corner. They lined up to slap her face. My granddaughter curled up alone in the corner, crying helplessly. “Someone like her, unloved by her father and mother, is born for our amusement.” The bully zoomed in on my daughter’s face. My hand holding the phone trembled; I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Tiffany Taft’s father’s provocative words were sent along with the video: [Old man, is the video nice? If you don’t sign the settlement agreement, believe it or not, I’ll spread this video all over the internet and make your granddaughter a laughingstock!] After saying that, he sent a photo of a skinned little rabbit. Lily was born in the Year of the Rabbit, and her favorite animal was a little rabbit. I was shaking with anger. “Don’t you think this is too much?” “I am too much. What can you do to me? My family has relatives in the court. Not to mention beating someone, even killing someone wouldn’t require legal responsibility. Your granddaughter will be miserable, living in the shadow of being bullied for the rest of her life!” When I sent another message, he had blocked me. I tried contacting many law firms, but everyone told me they couldn’t and wouldn’t take this case. The Taft family really had deep connections and background, as the principal said, even having relatives in the court to help. Is it possible that justice for Lily can never be reclaimed? Lily’s mental state was getting worse. She had trouble sleeping every night, and even when she fell asleep, she would wake up from nightmares. Lily cried and told me she was afraid to close her eyes because every time she did, she would dream of the day she was bullied by Tiffany Taft. I held Lily in pain, and she cried uncontrollably in my arms. “Grandpa, I just dreamed of Mom and Dad.” “I dreamed they were holding me and playing in the amusement park, but not long after, they received a mission. They said the country needed to borrow them for a while, and they would come home after the mission was completed.” “But Grandpa, when will the country return my parents to me?” “If Mom and Dad were with me, no one would dare to bully me because I don’t have parents anymore…” “Grandpa, why don’t bad people get punished?” Staring at my granddaughter’s pale face, I was speechless. A wave of indescribable grief and helplessness surged in my heart. Chapter 5 The next day, I walked into the courthouse with the prosecution materials I had written overnight. I had no other choice; the indictment was my last hope. Entering the gate, I ran into Tiffany Taft’s father, who was chatting and laughing with a leader. Seeing me, his face changed drastically, and he immediately ordered the security guards on duty at the door to stop me. “This old man is crazy; don’t let him in!” I was pressed to the ground by security. No matter how unwilling I was, I appeared so weak in front of these people. Tiffany Taft’s father stood triumphantly in front of me, throwing the torn indictment in my face: “I told you, the court leaders are all my relatives. This is not a place for you to reason. It’s useless even if you sue to the heavens!” “If you know what’s good for you, sign the settlement agreement quickly. Otherwise, I won’t be polite!” Their laughter was like sharp knives, ruthlessly piercing my heart, making me feel incomparable humiliation and pain. Sitting alone outside the courthouse, I felt an unprecedented despair. Shouldn’t the court be a place of fairness and reason? Why has it become a shelter for the powerful? Unwilling tears slid from my eyes, blurring my vision. I just wanted justice; why was it so hard… When I bent down, the medals in my pocket fell out. They rolled down the stone steps, all the way to the bottom. I picked up the medals and stared blankly at the military compound not far away. Six years ago, the military commander personally said that Lily’s parents were martyrs who died for the country. The children of martyrs would be protected. If I encountered trouble in the future, I should come here to find him. He also promised that he would never let soldiers bleed and cry. I took a deep breath and limped towards the military compound. Under the gaze of the guards, I knelt at the gate of the military compound next door, raising the two medals above my head with trembling hands. “Comrade, I want to ask, are these Medals of Honor? Are my son and daughter-in-law martyrs who died for the country?” “If so, why is there no one to care when their daughter is bullied?” Under the sunlight, the golden medals shone brightly, and the bright red five-pointed stars were dazzlingly red. When the three powerful words “Medal of Honor” came into view, the guard’s face changed instantly. He knew the weight of these three words too well, and now the old man held two of them.

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At his birthday party, Asher Vance suggested playing a game of “Blind Man’s Bluff.” He deliberately mistook his childhood sweetheart for me and held her in a passionate kiss for three whole minutes. The crowd started teasing: “Asher, your girl is jealous. You better go comfort her.” Asher said dismissively: “It’s just a game. If we took this seriously, we would have broken up dozens of times by now.” He didn’t know that this time, I really took it seriously. On my way home alone, Hayden sent me nine shirtless photos of his abs. I swiped through them one by one, dialed his number, and summoned the courage to ask: “My boyfriend doesn’t have abs. Can I borrow yours to touch?” Chapter 1 The private karaoke room went dead silent when Asher Vance pulled Jenny into his arms and kissed her. Everyone’s eyes darted towards me, gauging my reaction. I was stunned. Asher was my boyfriend of three years. Tonight was his birthday, and we were celebrating with a bunch of friends in a private room at a trendy bar downtown. When the party was in full swing, he suggested playing “Blind Man’s Bluff.” Asher’s best friend started riling him up: “Asher, you and Chloe have been together for three years, you guys must have incredible telepathy. How about you find her while blindfolded and give her a French kiss?” Honestly, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to play this kind of game in front of so many people. But Asher was super into it, acting all confident: “Bring it on, who’s scared? I could recognize Chloe with my eyes closed.” The friends, always up for some drama, immediately got a blindfold from a waiter and handed it to Asher. After the game started, Asher passed right by me. He paused for a moment but didn’t recognize me. He walked a couple of steps further and pulled his childhood friend, Jenny, into his arms. Everyone wanted to tell him he was kissing the wrong person, but he was kissing her so passionately. Seeing my lack of reaction, everyone shut their mouths and said nothing more. The kiss lasted for three whole minutes. Jenny broke free from Asher’s arms, gasping for air. Asher took off the blindfold, looked at the person in front of him, and a look of shock flashed across his eyes. “Jenny, why is it you?” “It’s me.” Jenny looked at me aggressively: “I thought your feelings were deeper, turns out you guys aren’t that close.” Everyone started teasing: “Asher Vance, sister-in-law is angry, you better go comfort her.” Asher looked me up and down and said indifferently: “It’s just a game, if we took this seriously, we would have broken up dozens of times already.” After saying that, he walked over to me and explained: “I didn’t mean to recognize the wrong person, blame it on the fact that you and Jenny wore the same perfume today.” Chapter 2 I actually didn’t wear perfume today. But the perfume Jenny wore tonight was indeed the one I usually wear. But that’s not an excuse. I’m 5’6″, Jenny is 5’2″, a difference of 4 inches. If you can’t tell the difference when kissing, your brain must be fried. Plus, I accidentally saw the chat history between Asher and Jenny last night. Jenny bet him: [Asher Vance, do you dare to kiss me in front of Chloe tomorrow?] Asher: [Why wouldn’t I dare? I plan to play Blind Man’s Bluff tomorrow, and then I’ll kiss you in front of her, she won’t dare to get angry.] Jenny: [Sounds exciting, then I’ll wear the same perfume as her tomorrow, okay?] Asher: [Okay. But, if I do this, is there a reward?] Jenny: [If you dare to kiss me in front of her, I’ll give you my virginity, do you dare to take it?] Asher: [If you dare to give it, I dare to take it.] Jenny: [Aren’t you afraid she’ll break up with you?] Asher: [Don’t worry, I’m her first love, she’s well-behaved and traditional, she won’t marry anyone but me in this life.] [Besides, you aren’t afraid of your boyfriend getting jealous, what am I afraid of?] Jenny: [You’re so bad, but I like it! I’ll be watching your performance tomorrow.] Jenny and Asher were childhood sweethearts, they had seen each other running around in diapers. So, their chats were very explicit. Their daily interactions also lacked boundaries. Jenny would proactively tell Asher her measurements, what size bra she wore. She even half-jokingly said to Asher: “Asher Vance, can you give me a set of lingerie for my birthday? I’m sure it’ll be exciting to wear it to tease my boyfriend.” Before, whenever I got jealous, Asher would come and coax me: “Jenny is just a tomboy, I don’t treat her like a woman, don’t be petty with her.” Asher was very handsome, the campus heartthrob at our university. He was very considerate to me, a rich second-generation kid driving a sports car, sticking to me every day to run errands for me. Under his aggressive pursuit, I agreed to date him. After we started dating, I found out he had a childhood friend with no boundaries. If I had known earlier, no matter how handsome he was, I wouldn’t have considered him. Now, he kissed the tomboy he talked about. Asher’s explanation made me uncomfortable, I picked up my bag and said: “I don’t feel well, I’m leaving first.” Seeing this, friends reminded Asher: “Asher, that joke you just made was too much, sister-in-law definitely can’t accept it, go chase her.” Asher sat on the sofa without moving, he glanced at me and said coldly: “Chloe, today is my birthday, are you sure you want to embarrass me?” Chapter 3 “You embarrassed me first.” I dropped a sentence and left the private room without looking back. Behind me, Asher kicked over the trash can by his feet. Jenny approached with a wine glass and said heartlessly: “Asher, why are you angry on such a happy day? I’ll drink with you.” Asher downed the wine in one gulp, then sent me a message: “Come back, I’ll clear your shopping cart for you, okay?” Asher had never lacked money, and he was always generous. Before, whenever we quarreled, he would buy buy buy until I calmed down. He thought this time, he could coax me with the same old tricks. But this time, I was serious. I could barely accept him verbal flirting with Jenny. But a three-minute kiss, I couldn’t forgive no matter what. I coldly refused: “No.” Asher frowned and lost patience: “Chloe, I said it was just a game, there’s a limit to throwing a tantrum.” My chest felt tight and uncomfortable, I didn’t want to reply to him anymore. I called a cab by the roadside, and my phone popped up countless messages. Opening it, it turned out to be nine shirtless photos from Hayden. Hayden is my neighbor-brother. Three years ago, my family moved to the villa next to his. We both raised cats, mine is named Mochi, his is named Dumpling. Mochi and Dumpling often visited each other’s houses. We added each other on WeChat because of this, to make it easier to find the cats. In the photo, Hayden lifted his shirt, taking a mirror selfie in the gym. His abs were distinct blocks, and the veins on his V-line could even be seen spreading downwards… I opened the nine shirtless photos and looked at them one by one carefully. I sighed inwardly, Hayden’s abs were really well-trained. If only Asher had half his self-discipline. I wouldn’t haven’t even touched a man’s abs until now. Just as I wanted to reply to him, he sent a message first: [Sorry, sent wrong.] Chapter 4 What, it was sent wrong? Sent wrong is sent wrong, but why send nine in a row? Nine in a row is fine, but why did it take two minutes before he realized he couldn’t withdraw them and realized he sent them wrong? Scheming man. I edited a message to reply: [Did you intend to send it to your girlfriend?] Hayden: [Chloe, don’t you know if I have a girlfriend?] Me: [Who knows if you’re secretly dating?] Hayden: [Not dating.] Me: [Oh oh.] Hayden is three years older than me. According to my observations of him. He goes to work at the Hayden Group from Monday to Friday, and goes home to feed the cat after work. He stays at home every weekend. If he really had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t stay at home every day and not go out. The car arrived, I got in, and told the driver the destination. In the car, Hayden continued to message me: [Went to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday? Are you staying home tonight?] Me: [Yeah, staying home, what’s up?] Hayden: [I bought some new cat canned food, bring Mochi over to play later?] Me: [Too late, another day.] Hayden: [Your Mochi loves sleeping on my abs recently.] He also attached a photo of Mochi sleeping on his abs. Mochi really takes after its owner. It’s much more promising than me. I haven’t even touched abs, and it’s already sleeping on a man’s abs. Hayden is a cold and domineering CEO in the eyes of outsiders, but in my eyes, he is a caring neighbor-brother. Actually, Hayden is my ideal type, he’s handsomer than Asher and has a better body. But alas, before I met him, I already had a boyfriend. Bewitched by the shirtless photos, I suddenly wanted to go play at Hayden’s house a bit. I edited a message and sent it over: [Hayden, my boyfriend doesn’t have abs, can I borrow your abs to touch?] There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, followed by a series of messages. [Chloe, what do you take me for?] [Only my future girlfriend can touch my abs.] [You already have a boyfriend, don’t eat from the bowl and look at the pot.] [My family upbringing is strict, I can’t be someone else’s mistress.] I was wrong. I repent. I shouldn’t have lusted after his abs. But isn’t he a little bit at fault too? He knew I had a boyfriend, yet he sent shirtless photos to seduce me. My willpower wasn’t good to begin with. I frankly admitted my mistake: [Forget it, forget it, there are plenty of such photos online, who wants yours?] After replying to this message, I exited the chat page. Went to a certain red software to search for shirtless photos. Looked around, none were as good as Hayden’s. When I exited the social software and returned to the chat page. I saw Hayden sent me several messages: [Don’t search online, okay?] [I’ll let you touch them, okay?] [What time will you get home?] [I’m waiting for you at the door, you can touch however you want!]

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I drive a “Love Truck.” The cargo hold isn’t filled with goods, but a sturdy bed frame and a plush mattress. I drive along desolate back roads until the couple in the back is finished. One day, after I parked, a woman rushed out of the cargo hold, crying hysterically. She hugged my leg, tears streaming down her face, begging me to help her. She said as long as I agreed, she’d do anything. Chapter 1 I lit a cigarette, turned the ignition, and felt the slight sway and rhythmic vibrations from the cargo box behind me. This is my job, and my life. My name is Shane, and I’ve been in this business for five years. People ask, why would anyone choose the back of a truck over a comfortable hotel? Simple. No ID required. You don’t have to worry about leaving a paper trail in some database. Unlike hotels, there are no security cameras capturing your face in high definition. Most importantly, no cops are going to knock on the door. From the outside, it looks like a standard refrigerated delivery truck. Valid registration, permits, everything is legit. But inside, it’s lined with soft carpet and holds a queen-sized bed. Even the walls are padded with soundproof foam. After picking up clients at a designated spot, I drive loops around unmonitored back roads until their time is up. Five years without a hitch. Until today. Chapter 2 This afternoon, I picked up my clients at a secluded park. A balding, overweight man and a young, stunningly beautiful woman. One glance, and my eyes were glued to her. I swear, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Under the sunlight, wearing just a tank top and shorts, her skin seemed to glow. Her small face and large, watery eyes nearly hooked my soul right out of my body. It wasn’t until the heavy cargo door slammed shut that I snapped out of it. “Must be nice to be rich,” I muttered, starting the engine, distracted. Throughout the drive, her image kept replaying in my mind. Hearing the faint sounds from the back, I gulped down water, trying to suppress the fire in my gut. My rate is $300 an hour. The man tossed me a stack of cash—$1,000—and booked three hours. Usually, I’d be thrilled with a $100 tip. But this time, those three hours felt like torture. Finally, time was up. I parked and opened the rear door. A wave of perfume hit me, and a soft body slammed directly into my arms. I froze, looking at the woman in my embrace. She was terrified, her hands gripping my shirt tightly, trembling uncontrollably. Before I could ask, she spoke in a shaking voice. “Please, help me.” She pointed a trembling finger at the cargo hold, as if a monster was hiding inside. What the hell happened? I calmed her down and slowly walked inside. The sight on the bed made me jump. The man was dead. His fat face was flushed red, a satisfied smile frozen on his lips. Even crazier, the man was still… active, if you know what I mean. I gasped, frowned, and stepped out. After thinking for a moment, I decided to call 911. But as soon as I pulled out my phone, the woman grabbed my wrist. “Please, don’t call the police.” “They’ll blame me, and his family won’t let me live.” She claimed he took some pills, got too excited, and his heart gave out. I was skeptical. I’ve seen people die from that before. They clutch their chests in pain. They don’t die smiling. And his condition… what kind of pill is that strong? Seeing her pitiful state, I sighed. “I can’t help you.” “He died in my truck. If I don’t report it, I’m in deep trouble.” Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She knelt on the ground, hugging my thigh. Her voice was choked with sobs, yet undeniably seductive. “He turned off his phone to hide this from his wife.” “And we haven’t passed a single camera since we got on.” “Even if we dump him somewhere, no one will know.” “Besides, what you’re doing isn’t exactly legal.” “If the cops come, you’re going down too.” “If this gets out, your business is dead.” Seeing my silence, she stood up, her curves pressing against me. Her breath tickled my ear. “This stays between us.” “Help me, and you help yourself.” “If you agree, I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you want…” Feeling her body heat, I swallowed hard, gritted my teeth, and nodded. Chapter 3 I put the woman in the passenger seat and started the engine. I know these woods like the back of my hand. I know where people don’t go. Finally, I parked by a stagnant, wild pond in the marshlands. Tie a rock to him, toss him in, and the swamp critters will pick him clean. I put on gloves to drag the body out. The moment I grabbed him, I froze. The man looked huge, easily 250 pounds of fat. But I pulled him off the bed effortlessly. He felt like he weighed maybe 90 pounds. That was insane. He felt like a blow-up doll—massive on the outside, hollow on the inside. Time was tight, so I shoved the doubt down. I tied a heavy rock to the body and kicked it into the pond. With a gurgling sound, the body sank into the murky green water. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and let out a long breath. The woman walked over, staring at the water with a complex expression. “You really know the spots. No regular person would find this place.” “I wouldn’t have thought to use a rock.” I explained with a bit of pride, “Without the rock, the gas makes them float.” “Then we’d be in trouble…” I stopped myself. She took a tissue and wiped the sweat from my face. “You must be tired.” “Don’t worry, it’s over.” “Now… I’m yours.” I looked down at her pale skin, and my brain short-circuited. I picked her up and carried her into the back of the truck. After the storm passed, the woman curled lazily in my arms and told me her story. Her name was Foxy. She was an orphan. No family, no degree, no skills. She got tricked into this life. She thought she found a sugar daddy, but it ended like this. Foxy laughed bitterly. “It seems I can’t hold onto anything in this life.” In that moment, something in my heart twitched. I blurted out: “Quit this life.” “Stay with me. I’ll take care of you.” Foxy wrapped her arms around my neck, giggling. “Can you afford me?” “I have a big appetite.” Her eyes roamed over me, and she licked her lips. I noticed her tongue seemed longer than a normal person’s. No wonder she made me feel so good. The fire in me reignited, and we rolled together again. Chapter 4 I brought Foxy home. As soon as we entered, my dog, Sparky, went berserk. He was a small terrier mix, usually chill, but now he was barking madly, fur standing on end. I tried to calm him, but Sparky wouldn’t stop staring at Foxy. I kicked the cage in frustration. He whimpered and shrank back, but his eyes never left her. I looked at Foxy apologetically. “He’s acting crazy today. Usually, he’s friendly.” Foxy glanced at Sparky and licked her lips. “It’s okay. Cute doggy. I’ll take good care of him.” I left Foxy in the living room and went to shower. When I came out, Sparky was lying quietly in Foxy’s arms. She smiled at me. “See? We’re friends now.” I was about to praise the dog when I noticed something wrong. Sparky’s tail was tucked tight between his legs, his body trembling. He stared at me, looking like he wanted to whine but didn’t dare. What scared him this much? I took Sparky from her to check him. But as soon as I held him, a warm stream hit my leg. The smell of urine filled the air. The damn dog peed on me! I smacked him and threw him in the cage. He curled into a ball, burying his head. Disgusted, I looked at my wet pants and went to shower again. But Foxy followed me in. Clothes dropped. She wrapped around me. My legs felt weak. I pushed her away. “Maybe not today…” But the next second, a heat rushed through me. My energy returned instantly. “You witch.” I cursed under my breath and closed my eyes.

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Five years into our marriage, my husband died of a sudden asthma attack, leaving me and our son alone. Friends said it was a tragedy I was widowed so young. My parents urged me to remarry, to find a father for my son. I refused. I was determined to honor my husband’s memory. But on the third anniversary of his death, I overheard my father-in-law angrily questioning my brother-in-law: “It was your brother who had asthma. It was your brother who died. You faked your death to take care of his wife and child. Was it worth it?” “For three years, Lily has been a widow, raising Leo alone. You gave your niece a home, but did you ever think that from the day you ‘died,’ Leo lost his father, too?” In that moment, my blood ran cold. I realized that the man who died three years ago wasn’t my husband, Mark. It was his twin brother, Matt. My three years of mourning were a joke. That night, I called my parents: “Mom, Dad, I agree to remarry!” Chapter 1 After my husband died of a sudden asthma attack, my in-laws were too guilt-ridden to look me in the eye. They were overly solicitous, terrified I wouldn’t be able to handle widowhood and would remarry, taking their grandson with me and ending their family line. My parents, on the other hand, constantly urged me to remarry. They said I couldn’t be a widow forever and offered to set me up. I was stubborn as a mule. I refused, determined to honor my husband’s memory. I even comforted my in-laws, telling them not to worry. I wouldn’t let my son call another man “Dad.” For three years, no matter how hard or exhausting life was without my husband, I gritted my teeth and persevered. But on the third anniversary of his death, everything changed. I accidentally overheard my father-in-law berating my brother-in-law in the study. “Mark,” he hissed, “your brother was the one with asthma since birth. He’s the one who’s gone. Why did you have to stage your own death and take his identity?” Mark? That was my husband’s name. What did he mean, “stage his own death”? I froze, unable to process what I was hearing. The next second, a man’s voice rang out. “Dad, Lily was pregnant. How could she have handled the shock? As for my wife, Sarah, I gave her a son. She won’t be childless in her old age. That’s enough.” “From that day on, I decided to take my brother’s place and care for his wife. As for the identity of Mark? Let it stay buried.” I couldn’t listen to any more. My limbs went cold, and my head buzzed like it had been pierced by needles. So, the man who died wasn’t my husband. It was his twin brother. And my husband, the man who should have been closest to me, faked his death and abandoned me and our son to raise another woman’s child. Tears finally, uselessly, flooded my eyes. Mark had saved me from a dark place. Even after I was kidnapped and my reputation was ruined, he didn’t reject me. Instead, he knelt on the spot and proposed, swearing to be good to me forever. After we married, he was devoted. He never let me suffer a single grievance. Everyone said the Peterson family had produced a great lover, and I became the envy of every woman in town. That’s why, when he died, I decided to honor him, even remain a widow. But now, thinking back, I felt pitifully stupid. Mark had always been healthy. He’d never even had a cold. How could he have died of asthma? It was all an act. He’d been pretending for three years, all to take care of the “one who got away.” What about me and our son? What were we to him? I desperately covered my mouth to keep from making a sound and fled in disgrace. Chapter 2 Back in my room, my son woke up, rubbing his eyes at the noise. Looking at his small face, so like Mark’s it was as if it had been carved from the same mold, my heart twisted. How could Mark, as a father, bear to let his young son grow up without a dad? Seeing my unconcealed sadness, my son’s face filled with concern. “Mommy, is Daddy pretending not to know you again?” My heart shook. I suddenly remembered that after Mark appeared as his brother, Matt, my son had continued to call him “Daddy.” At the time, I had always stopped him, telling him it wasn’t Daddy, it was Uncle Matt. I thought my son missed his father too much and couldn’t tell his identical twin uncle apart. I never imagined I was so wrong. A child’s eyes are always clear. He had always recognized his own father, but he didn’t understand why, overnight, his father wouldn’t acknowledge him. No wonder. No wonder “Matt” was so good to me and my son. He always bought a gift for my son whenever he bought something. He asked after his well-being, periodically brought meat and vegetables, and secretly gave us money. Yet, he was strict only when my son called him “Daddy,” always quickly interrupting and correcting him. Others said that as an uncle, he was impeccable. Even a biological father could rarely do so much. Before I knew the truth, I had been grateful to this brother-in-law, keeping his kindness in my heart, always thinking I would repay him someday. But now that I knew the truth, it was all so ironic. He was my son’s biological father. Wasn’t it his duty to be good to him? Didn’t he feel guilty doing these things? I couldn’t hide the bitterness rising inside me. I had never felt so clearly that the Mark I knew was dead. He had buried himself with his own hands. I had mourned him for three years. This relationship was over. After calming down, I looked at my son seriously and asked if he would be willing if Mommy remarried and found him a new daddy. “Mommy, I don’t know why Daddy won’t acknowledge me, but since you don’t want him anymore, I don’t want him either. Wherever you go, Leo will go. If Daddy won’t protect you, Leo will!” Sensing my grief, Leo hugged me, his small hand patting my back comfortingly. In that instant, tears burst from my reddened eyes. “Okay!” I hugged my son tightly, then called my parents. The call connected, but before I could say anything, my parents’ usual well-meaning advice washed over me: “Sarah, since Mark died, John has proposed to us dozens of times. You’ve known each other since you were kids, you know everything about him. And he’s a Captain now. Why are you so stubborn? Why won’t you agree to remarry…” I cut them off. “Mom, Dad, I’ve thought it through. I agree to remarry.” There was five seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a wave of wild joy and disbelief. “Really? That’s wonderful! It’s good you’ve thought it through. We’ll contact him immediately and start preparing the wedding! Don’t worry, John has promised us many times. After you marry him, he’ll treat Leo like his own son. As for you, just go and enjoy your life.” Through the phone, I could feel my parents’ excitement. They had worried about me so much these past three years, but because of Mark, I had disappointed them every time. Not anymore. Chapter 3 The next morning, I took my son downstairs for breakfast. At the table, Mark was attentive, serving his sister-in-law and niece, busy as a bee. To anyone watching, they looked like a happy family of three. Before I knew the truth, I had envied the cherished sister-in-law countless times, fantasizing that if Mark hadn’t died, he would have treated me this well, too. But now, watching this scene, I only felt a profound sense of irony. My eyes burned, but I forced myself not to cry. There was no one left to wipe my tears. Mark noticed my pale face from the corner of his eye and actively put a piece of meat in both my bowl and my son’s. “Sister-in-law, eat up. Mark is gone. Even if not for yourself, you have to think of your nephew.” His tone was natural, a normal concern from a brother-in-law, as if the Mark who died wasn’t him. “Uncle Matt, I’ll serve Mommy!” But in the next moment, my son raised his chopsticks, put a piece of meat in my bowl, and responded sensibly to Mark. Hearing this, Mark’s face changed abruptly. He even accidentally knocked over his bowl and chopsticks. Because this was the first time my son had called him “Uncle Matt.” Before, no matter how he corrected him, my son had never called him uncle. He had always called him Daddy. But today, the words “Uncle Matt” were like a thunderclap exploding in his brain. “Leo, you… you used to always mistake Uncle Matt for your daddy. Why did you change today?” He looked at my son, steadying himself before speaking. My son smiled at him. “Uncle Matt, I was little before, so I always mistook you for Daddy. Now I’m older. I know my daddy died three years ago. Don’t worry, I’ll never call you wrong again!” Hearing this, Mark was dumbfounded. He couldn’t say a word in rebuttal. Finally, he could only force a calm laugh. “Is that so? That’s good.” But his eyes kept darting between my son and me, as if trying to capture a clue from our faces. He held his chopsticks for a long time without eating a bite. My son and I didn’t give him a single glance. We just buried our heads and ate our food. This made Mark even more restless. He kept glancing at us, and finally, he tentatively spoke. “Although I’m not Leo’s dad, Leo is no different from my own son. Don’t be so distant in the future. We’re all family.” “If you have any difficulties in the future, just ask me for help. Don’t always carry it alone.” I forced a bitter smile. Was he regretting it because his son no longer called him Daddy? But he was the one who chose to fake his death and abandon his son. I put down my chopsticks and, taking my son who had finished eating, stood up directly. Before leaving, I didn’t thank him for taking care of my son as I used to. Instead, I stared straight into Mark’s astonished eyes and left one sentence. “Big Brother is right. No matter how close we are, you’re not Leo’s biological father after all. We, mother and son, can live our lives well on our own.” Chapter 4 Early the next morning, I went to the department store. I bought the milk candy and pastries my son had wanted to eat for a long time. Finally, I walked to the wedding section and pointed at a beautiful red dress, asking the clerk to take it down for me to try on. Coming out of the fitting room, looking at my reflection that seemed several years younger, I was stunned. The clerk looked at me and praised enthusiastically, “Getting ready for your wedding, right? Red is the most festive! So many people come to me to buy clothes, but you’re the first one to wear this dress so beautifully.” But I silently took off the dress and pointed to another one that was more elegantly colored, asking the clerk to wrap it up for me. Because people who are widowed cannot wear red when they remarry. When I walked out of the department store carrying bags full of things, I ran right into Mark, who was shopping with his sister-in-law. He was stunned when he saw me, then greeted me unnaturally. “Sister-in-law, why are you suddenly out shopping?” Since his fake death, I had stayed indoors, never having the leisure to go shopping. Seeing me buy so many things suddenly surprised him. I didn’t want to get entangled with him, so I made up an excuse to put him off. But when we passed each other, he saw the wedding dress peeking out of my bag. His face suddenly became solemn. When we got married, we also bought our wedding supplies here. Only the dress back then was red. Now, the dress in my bag was a plain color. But why would a widow like me buy a wedding dress? He stood frozen on the spot for so long that his sister-in-law next to him noticed something was wrong.

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Five years into our marriage, my husband suddenly passed away from a severe asthma attack, leaving me and our son alone in the world. Friends pitied me for becoming a widow so young. My parents begged me to move on, to find a new father for my son. I refused. I was adamant about honoring his memory, staying single to mourn the love of my life. But on the third anniversary of his death, I accidentally overheard my father-in-law screaming at my brother-in-law in the study: “The one with asthma was your brother! The one who died was your brother! Is it really worth it? Faking your own death, deceiving your wife and child just to take care of your sister-in-law?” “For three years, Elara has mourned you. She’s raised Leo all by herself. You gave your niece a father figure, sure, but have you ever thought about the fact that from the day you ‘died,’ Leo lost his dad?” In that moment, the blood in my veins turned to ice. It hit me like a freight train. The man who died three years ago wasn’t my husband, Caleb. It was his identical twin brother, Connor. My three years of grieving, of loyalty, of pain… it was all a joke. That night, I picked up the phone and called my parents. “Mom, Dad? I’m ready. I’ll marry Mason.” 1 After my husband allegedly died from that asthma attack, my in-laws looked at me with guilt-ridden eyes every single day. They tiptoed around me, terrified I wouldn’t be able to handle the grief, afraid I’d take their grandson and remarry, cutting off their family line. My own parents, on the other hand, kept pushing me to date. They said I couldn’t play the grieving widow forever, that they had great guys to set me up with. I was stubborn as a mule. I dug my heels in. I told my in-laws to rest easy—I wouldn’t let my son call another man “Daddy.” For three years, no matter how hard or lonely it got, I grit my teeth and survived. Until that third anniversary. I was walking past the study when I heard my father-in-law’s voice booming at my brother-in-law: “Caleb, your brother was the one born with asthma! He’s the one who passed! Why did you have to stage this fake death and steal his identity?” Caleb? That was my husband’s name. Fake death? I froze in the hallway, my brain unable to process the words. Then, I heard the voice I had yearned for in my dreams: “Dad, Elara was pregnant back then. The shock would have destroyed her. Besides, I gave her a son. She won’t be lonely in her old age. That’s enough.” “From that day on, I decided I had to step up and take care of Connor’s wife and daughter. As for the identity of ‘Caleb’… let him stay buried.” I couldn’t listen anymore. My hands were shaking, and my head felt like it was being split open by an axe. So, my husband wasn’t dead. His twin brother was. The man I loved more than anything had faked his death and abandoned me and our son, just to play house with another woman. Tears finally broke through the dam. Caleb had once pulled me out of the darkest time of my life. When I was at rock bottom, he didn’t turn away. He got down on one knee and promised to cherish me forever. After the wedding, he treated me like gold. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman in town. That’s why, when he “died,” I decided to dedicate my life to his memory. Now, I felt like the world’s biggest fool. Caleb was always healthy. He never even caught a cold. How could he have died of asthma? It was all an act. He had been acting for three years, pretending to be his brother to take care of his “sister-in-law”—his high school sweetheart. But what about me? What about our son? Were we nothing? I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream and ran back to my room. 2 Back in the bedroom, the noise woke my son. He sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes. I looked at his face—a miniature copy of Caleb’s—and my heart shattered. How could a father be so cruel? How could he let his own child grow up thinking his dad was dead? seeing the devastation on my face, my son’s expression turned to pure worry. “Mommy? Is Daddy pretending he doesn’t know you again?” My heart stopped. I suddenly remembered all the times “Connor” (Caleb in disguise) came over. Leo would run to him, calling him “Daddy.” Every time, I would hush him. I’d tell him, “No, honey, that’s Uncle Connor. Daddy is in heaven.” I thought he was just a grieving child who couldn’t tell the identical twins apart. I was so wrong. Children see everything. He knew. He always knew that was his dad. He just didn’t understand why his dad stopped loving him overnight. It all made sense now. Why “Uncle Connor” was so good to us. The groceries, the secret cash envelopes, the toys. But whenever Leo called him “Daddy,” he would get strict. He would shut it down immediately. Neighbors whispered that he was the best brother-in-law on earth. Better than most real fathers. I had been so grateful. I kept a tally of his kindness in my heart, planning to repay him one day. Now, the gratitude tasted like bile. He was the father. Being good to his son was the bare minimum. Did he feel no shame? I swallowed the bitterness. The Caleb I loved was dead. He buried himself. My three-year vigil was over. I took a deep breath and looked at my son. “Leo, if Mommy wanted to get married again… if I found you a new daddy… would you be okay with that?” “Mommy, I don’t know why Daddy won’t talk to me. But if you don’t want him anymore, I don’t want him either. I go where you go. If he won’t protect you, I will!” He wrapped his small arms around my neck, patting my back with his little hand. The tears I was holding back finally fell. “Okay,” I whispered. “It’s a deal.” I hugged him tight, then dialed my parents. The moment they picked up, my mom started her usual lecture. “Elara, honey, Mason has asked us about you a dozen times. You grew up together. He’s a Colonel in the Air Force now, a good man. Why are you so stubborn?” I cut her off. “Mom, Dad. I’ve thought it through. I’ll marry him.” Silence for five seconds. Then, eruption. “Really? Oh, thank God! We’ll call him right now. We’ll start planning the wedding! Mason promised he’d treat Leo like his own flesh and blood. You just come home and be happy.” I could hear the relief in their voices. I had worried them sick for three years. Not anymore. 3 The next morning, I took Leo downstairs for breakfast. Caleb was there, acting the part of the doting uncle. He was bustling around, serving his “sister-in-law” Sarah and her daughter, looking for all the world like a happy family man. Before I knew the truth, I used to envy Sarah. I used to think, If Caleb were alive, he’d treat me like that. Now, the scene just made me sick. Caleb noticed my pale face and placed a slice of bacon on my plate, then one on Leo’s. “Elara, eat up. Even if you don’t do it for yourself, do it for my nephew. Caleb is gone, you have to stay strong.” He said it so naturally. Talking about himself in the third person like a sociopath. “Uncle Connor, I can put meat on Mommy’s plate!” Leo suddenly spoke up, moving the bacon with his fork. Caleb flinched. His hand jerked, knocking over his coffee mug. Brown liquid splashed everywhere. It was the first time Leo had ever voluntarily called him “Uncle.” Before today, no matter how much we corrected him, Leo insisted on calling him Daddy. The word “Uncle” hit Caleb like a physical blow. “Leo… you… you always used to call me Daddy. Why the change?” He tried to keep his voice steady, forcing a smile. Leo looked him dead in the eye. “Uncle Connor, I was little before. I got confused. But I’m big now. I know my Daddy died three years ago. Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.” Caleb stared at him, mouth slightly open, unable to find a single word. Finally, he managed a dry, choked laugh. “Is that right? Well… good. That’s good.” But he couldn’t eat. He kept glancing at us, his eyes darting between my face and Leo’s, searching for something. We ignored him. We ate our breakfast in silence. The silence made him anxious. Finally, he couldn’t take it. “Even though I’m not Leo’s dad, I love him like my own. We’re family. If you ever need help, Elara, you come to me. Don’t carry the burden alone.” I forced a smile. It didn’t reach my eyes. Was he panicking because his son finally rejected him? He chose this. He chose to “die.” I put down my fork, wiped Leo’s mouth, and stood up. I didn’t thank him for the food. instead, I looked him straight in the eye. “You’re right, Uncle Connor. But no matter how close we are, you aren’t his father. Leo and I… we’ll build our own life just fine.” 4 The next day, I went to the department store. I bought Leo the expensive chocolates he’d been begging for. Then, I walked into the formal wear section. I pointed to a beautiful, soft ivory cocktail dress. “I’d like to try that on.” Stepping out of the fitting room, I looked in the mirror. I looked younger. The grey cast of grief was gone. The salesgirl clasped her hands. “It’s for a wedding, isn’t it? You look stunning. Most people buy the darker colors, but this… you glow in this.” I smiled, but then I took it off. “Actually, pack up the blue one. The silk one.” Widows don’t usually wear bright colors. But brides do. As I walked out of the store, loaded with bags, I literally bumped into Caleb. He was carrying shopping bags for Sarah. He froze. Then, he put on his “concerned brother-in-law” mask. “Elara? What are you doing out? You bought… a lot.” Since his “death,” I barely left the house. I certainly didn’t go on shopping sprees. I muttered a vague excuse. I didn’t want to talk to him. But as I brushed past him, the bag shifted. The silk dress peeked out. It was clearly a dress for a special occasion. A celebratory dress. When we got married, we bought my dress at this exact store. He stood there on the sidewalk, staring at the bag, long after I had walked away. Sarah had to tug on his sleeve to snap him out of it.

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My sugar daddy took me to a gala, and I ended up in a fistfight with the love of his life. He pulled me out of the brawl, his grip like iron. With my hair a mess and mascara running, I glared at him coldly. “You taking sides now?” He remained silent, his jaw tight. I ripped the diamond ring off my finger and threw it in his face. “I’m dumping you.” 1 I was Chloe, Damian’s kept woman. We’d been together for three years. He was handsome, wealthy, incredible in bed, and generous. His only rule was no kissing scenes in my movies. Because of that, I lost some roles and got labeled “fake” and “stuck up” by the critics. I didn’t care. I had always been obedient. I never caused trouble. I never imagined that the first time I caused trouble, it would be nuclear. I punched his childhood sweetheart in the face. 2 It started when Damian asked me to be his plus-one at a high-society engagement party. I never fit in with his “Old Money” crowd. I wanted to say no, but I’d been filming on location for three months. I missed him. So, I went. Naturally, I ran into people I didn’t want to see. I tried to avoid them, but they cornered me in the garden. Vivian was Damian’s childhood friend. Her family had moved to Europe years ago and just moved back to the States. Jessica was my nemesis in Hollywood. She constantly bought bots to trash me on Twitter. I didn’t know they knew each other. I sat on a bench, trying to be invisible. Jessica was examining her manicure, speaking loudly enough for me to hear. “It’s the Sterling engagement party. How did the trash get in?” Vivian glanced at me, her voice indifferent. “You dragged me out here just to gossip?” Jessica gave her a sycophantic smile. “Viv, don’t be like that. It’s stuffy inside. Besides…” “Viv, are you and Damian finally merging families? Like, marriage?” “It’s… pretty much settled.” “That’s amazing! A power couple. It’s about time some people realized they’re just placeholders.” Vivian didn’t respond. Jessica kept going. I turned to leave, but her next words froze me. “Some people are so trashy. Her dad caused that construction collapse years ago. People lost their jobs, and he only lost a leg? That’s karma.” I stopped. I turned around, walked up to her, and slapped her twice across the face. Jessica clutched her cheek, screaming. “Chloe! Are you insane?” I smiled coldly. “I can handle you talking trash behind my back, but did you think I wouldn’t hit you to your face?” Vivian frowned. “Miss Hart, this is the Sterling estate. Have you thought about the consequences?” My eyes were sharp. “Miss Vance, if someone mocked your crippled father to your face, I’d hope you wouldn’t stop to think about consequences either.” Vivian stayed silent, but Jessica lunged, grabbing my hair. I don’t know how Vivian got involved, but by the time Damian arrived, the three of us were a tangled mess on the ground. Damian, face like thunder, hauled me out of the pile. I looked like a wreck. Vivian barely had a hair out of place. I glared at Damian. “You protecting her?” He frowned, saying nothing. That’s when I threw the ring. “I’m dumping you!” I ran out, dove into a waiting Uber, and sped off. But the moment the door closed, I broke down. I had just wrapped filming yesterday. I came back full of love and excitement to see him. And instead of a warm welcome, I got humiliated, and he took her side. My phone buzzed. Damian calling. I picked up and screamed, “The penthouse in Bel Air is in my name! You have one week to move out!” I hung up and blocked him on everything. Bastard. We were done. 3 I didn’t go back to the Bel Air penthouse. I checked into a hotel in West Hollywood. After a shower, the adrenaline faded, and reality set in. I was probably the first sugar baby in history to evict her billionaire patron. I had gotten bold over the years. In the beginning, I was terrified of him. I met Damian at a slimy networking dinner. My agent forced me to go “socialize” with investors. My family used to be middle class, but after my dad’s accident on the construction site, we lost everything paying off debts and medical bills. To help, I signed a predatory contract with a talent agency. They gave me zero roles and treated me like an escort. I tried to dodge the dinners, playing sick, playing dumb. But that night, I had no choice. I walked into the VIP room. It was full of greasy middle-aged men. Damian sat at the head of the table, looking like a king among trolls. He got up to leave almost immediately. I panicked and followed him into the hall. “Sir,” I stammered. “Can I… go with you?” He towered over me, looking down with cold eyes. “Why? Do I look like the nice one?” He looked like the scariest one, actually. But I couldn’t say that. I shook my head. “You’re the best looking.” Damian scoffed. “I know.” He looked impatient. I blurted out, “You look like a good person.” He smirked, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You need glasses.” He left. My agent dragged me back inside. They forced whiskey down my throat. A fat producer put his hand on my thigh. I struggled, knocking over a glass. He slapped me, calling me ungrateful, and tried to rip my dress. In panic, I grabbed a shard of the broken glass and stabbed him in the leg. I sat there, shaking, thinking I was going to prison. Then the door swung open. Damian stood there. He glanced around the room. The producer, who had been screaming like a pig, instantly went silent. “Didn’t you want to come with me? Well? Come here.” I dropped the glass and ran to him. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t stand. He scooped me up and carried me out. 4 He took me to the penthouse. I spent an hour in the bathroom, terrified to come out. I heard him on the phone, fixing the mess I made. When the voices stopped, I walked out wrapped in a towel. He was leaning back on the sofa, shirt unbuttoned, looking effortlessly expensive. I stood in front of him, gathered my courage, and dropped the towel. I squeezed my eyes shut. He stood up, picked up the towel, and wrapped it back around me. “You’re young,” he teased. “But bold.” My face burned. “I… I’ve never done this… I don’t know the protocol…” “Look at me.” I gripped the towel, forcing myself to meet his eyes. They were dark, amused, and dangerous. “You trust me that much? Aren’t you afraid I’m worse than them?” “No,” I lied quickly. “Handsome people are usually kind.” He laughed. He pulled me close and kissed me. It was my first kiss. My brain melted. He brushed his thumb over my lip. “Go to sleep. Can you sleep alone?” I nodded dizzily. “Hm? Is that how you treat your sponsor?” His voice went up a pitch. I panicked and hugged his waist. “No! I’m scared. I need you to hold me.” He seemed satisfied, tucked me into bed, and went to make more calls. Half an hour later, he came back and held me while I slept. I checked the news for a week. Nothing. My predatory contract was dissolved. Damian set me up with a top-tier agency. The producer I stabbed vanished from Hollywood. For three years, Damian gave me the best resources. I went from a nobody to a B-list star. My parents’ debts were paid. They opened a small shop back home. Life was good. But for me, it was getting worse. Because I was falling in love with him. He was my patron. I was the contract lover. But loving Damian was the easiest thing in the world to do.

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Nate and I were childhood friends, practically inseparable since we were in diapers. His girlfriend hated it. They constantly fought because of me, playing out this endless drama of breaking up and getting back together, her running away and him chasing after her. It wasn’t until a group dinner that she decided to call me out in front of everyone. “Chloe, how about I set you up with someone? You know, so you stop being the third wheel.” The room went dead silent. I glanced at the man sitting next to Nate—his best friend, Julian. Then I smiled and shook my head. “No thanks. I already have a boyfriend.” The next second, Nate’s face went dark. His hand clenched around his wine glass until it shattered. 1 Nate and Sarah got back together. Again. When I heard the news, I felt absolutely nothing. Penny was texting me the gossip with her usual enthusiasm: Penny: [They were broken up for a whole three months this time. A new record.] Penny: [Apparently Sarah ran off to Paris in a huff, and Nate actually flew out there to win her back.] Penny: [Two years, five breakups. Do they ever get tired?] I laughed but didn’t reply. Penny: [Bet you anything Nate’s gonna be blowing up the group chat about a celebratory dinner…] Penny: [You going?] I sent a sticker of a cat saying “No way.” Me: [Pass. I have to practice. The concerto competition is next month.] Penny: [Fair enough. I’m going though. Gotta see the train wreck in person. I’ll report back with tea.] Me: [Deal. Good luck.] I put my phone down and picked up my violin. About thirty minutes later, I checked my phone again. Penny had sent another message. She seemed hesitant this time. Penny: [By the way… do you know why they broke up last time?] Me: [No clue.] Penny replied instantly. Penny: [Rumor has it… Sarah found out Nate’s phone passcode. It was your birthday.] 2 On Friday, the dormant group chat exploded. Just as predicted, Nate announced that he and Sarah were back together and he was treating everyone to dinner at our usual spot, The Rusty Anchor. The responses were a mix of congratulations and roasting. [Congrats, bro. Again.] [Nate, you’re slipping. Took you way too long this time!] [Is there a punch card for these ‘back together’ dinners? Do we get a free sub eventually?] … I was typing out an excuse to decline when Sarah tagged me directly. Sarah: [@Chloe You have to come!] Me: [Sorry, I’m really busy with rehearsals.] Sarah: [Oh come on, it’s just dinner!] Sarah: [I know I’ve misunderstood your relationship with Nate in the past, and I probably made things awkward for you.] Sarah: [I just want to apologize in person. Please?] The chat went dead silent. No one typed a thing. I gripped my phone, annoyance bubbling up in my chest. After a moment, I typed: [Fine. See you there.] 3 By the time I arrived, the private room was already buzzing. When I pushed the door open, the chatter stopped for a second. Nate was sitting at the head of the table. When he saw me, the tension in his forehead visibly relaxed. “Took you long enough,” he said, patting the empty chair next to him. “Sit here.” Sarah’s smile faltered for a microsecond, but she recovered quickly, looping her arm through Nate’s in a clear possessive gesture. “Chloe! You made it! We were waiting for you.” “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare.” Nate’s eyes were glued to me as I spoke. I ignored him and walked straight past the empty seat to the corner where Penny was waving frantically. As soon as I sat down, Sarah walked over with a glass of wine. “Chloe, I’m so glad you came. “I know I used to get jealous and misunderstand things between you and Nate. I made a scene more than once, and frankly, it was embarrassing. “I’m sure it was annoying for you too. So, I wanted to say sorry. I hope you don’t hold it against me.” She stood over me, looking down with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But don’t worry, it won’t happen again! “Nate promised me. He explained that even though you guys grew up together, he just sees you as a little sister. That’s all it is—brotherly concern. “And you used to follow him around everywhere because you saw him as a big brother too, right?” The room went quiet again. Everyone was suddenly very interested in their silverware or napkins. Nate was staring at me, waiting for my answer. Penny rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to snap back, but I put a hand on her arm to stop her. I picked up the wine glass in front of me, stood up, and looked Sarah dead in the eye. “I’m glad we cleared that up. Apology accepted,” I said with a polite smile. “Nate’s right. We’re just neighbors. Don’t waste energy misunderstanding him anymore. It’s bad for the relationship.” I raised my glass to her. “Cheers. Wishing you guys a lifetime of happiness.” I downed the drink. Thud. Nate slammed his glass onto the table, his face cold. He looked annoyed, but he kept his voice controlled. “You can’t handle alcohol. Put it down.” Sarah’s face went pale. Her knuckles turned white around the stem of her glass. Because Nate wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to me. 4 I met Nate when we were eight. Our families lived next door. In elementary school, I started learning the violin. Nate would stand in his yard covering his ears, yelling, “Chloe! Are you killing a cat in there?” In middle school, he tutored me in math, tapping my forehead with his pen when I zoned out. “Chloe, focus! Are you trying to fail?” In high school, I tripped during track and field. He carried me to the nurse’s office on his back, his voice shaking. “Chloe, does it hurt? Say something!” And when my parents died in a car accident my junior year, he held my hand at the funeral, telling me over and over, “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” We were the childhood sweethearts everyone rooted for. We were in every chapter of each other’s lives. I thought he meant it when he said he’d always be there. Until Sarah joined our orchestra class. Nate started talking about her constantly. He said, “Chloe, don’t you think Sarah looks a little like you?” “How?” “She plays the violin just as badly as you used to.” He said, “Chloe, Sarah’s pretty cool. Can you get her number for me?” Then he said, “Chloe, Sarah and I are dating.” …

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I spent a lifetime with Carter. We had a son and a daughter, stayed together until our golden anniversary. But on his deathbed, gravely ill, our son asked him if he had any final wishes. “After I die, bury me next to your aunt Bella. That is the only thing I have ever truly wanted.” The room went silent. Everyone looked at me with pity. I nodded, my face numb. “Do as he says.” People whispered behind my back. I had spent fifty years serving his parents, raising his children, and being a perfect wife, yet I couldn’t even keep his heart in his final moments. I was a joke. But they didn’t know that if I had a second chance, I wouldn’t have married Carter in the first place. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was my wedding day. Just as I remembered, Carter had run away, leaving me at the altar to face the humiliation of the crowd alone. I didn’t feel shame. I felt relief. I exhaled a breath I felt like I’d been holding for a lifetime. My gaze drifted slowly to a man in a black suit sitting in the corner. “Damon,” I called out, my voice steady. “I’m short a groom. Are you willing to fill the spot?” 1 My words dropped like a bomb. The entire ballroom went dead silent. Even the man chugging whiskey in the corner froze. He looked up, eyes wide with disbelief. “What did you just… say?” The corners of Damon’s eyes were slightly red. When he looked at me, a flicker of hope ignited in his dark gaze. I smiled. Ignoring the gasps of the guests, I walked firmly toward him. “I said, I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?” Damon stared at me, stunned. His lips trembled slightly, unable to form words. Before he could answer, Carter’s mother rushed forward, grabbing my arm. “Layla, honey, I know that idiot son of mine hurt you today, but I’ve already sent people to drag him back.” “He’s just being immature. He’s acting out.” “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, you are the only daughter-in-law I’ll accept. Don’t let your anger make you do something stupid. You can’t just marry someone else out of spite!” I smiled gently and pulled my hand away. “Mrs. Sterling, you can’t force love. I don’t have to marry Carter. You should just let them be together.” In my past life, I knew Carter’s heart belonged to my younger sister, Bella. But Bella had a wild history. She’d dated a string of boyfriends and had health complications that left her unable to have children. Mrs. Sterling, obsessed with lineage, refused to let her in the door. Plus, Carter and I were childhood sweethearts. Our families had arranged the marriage, and I had loved him since we were kids. It made sense for me to take the role. Everyone thought we were a model couple who made it to our golden years. But only we knew the misery behind closed doors. In sixty years of marriage, we slept in separate rooms for fifty-five of them. 2 Carter hated me. When I was in the hospital, suffering through a difficult labor, he didn’t show up once. Every year on our child’s birthday, he spent the entire day at the cemetery. He drank himself into a stupor constantly, calling out Bella’s name in his sleep. I thought feelings could grow. I thought trauma could fade. But year after year, we just became two ghosts haunting the same house. It wasn’t worth it. Now that I had a do-over, I was letting him go. And freeing myself. Mrs. Sterling looked frantic seeing me hold Damon’s hand. “Layla! You are the wife I chose for my son! How can you marry him?” “I’ve never liked Bella’s manipulative little acts. I don’t care why she called Carter away today, I will not let him bring that woman into my house!” In my past life, on this very day, Bella committed suicide by jumping into the ocean when she heard we were actually getting married. She left a note and a video. “Carter, I have to call you ‘brother-in-law’ now. But I love you, and I can’t say those words.” “I envy my sister. She gets you so easily. My luck always runs out.” “If there is a next life, Carter… let me be the one to marry you.” Mrs. Sterling had thought she was bluffing and forced the wedding to continue. But Bella really jumped. By the time the reception ended, her body had been pulled from the water, cold and lifeless. This time, Carter wasn’t going to let her die. When he got Bella’s video message, his eyes went bloodshot, and he sprinted out of the church without a backward glance. In my last life, I was devastated. Now? I felt nothing but relief. I turned back to the man in front of me. “Damon, if you want to marry me, come up to the altar.” 3 “This wedding belongs to us now,” I whispered. Damon smiled, a genuine, dazzling smile, and gripped my hand tight. “Okay.” The room exploded into chaos. Carter’s groomsmen were whispering frantically, texting Carter. “Bro, you really messed up this time. Layla is marrying someone else.” “I thought Layla was obsessed with Carter? Why is she swapping him out so fast?” “And why him? Of all people, she picked Damon Vance. The notorious playboy.” “She’s probably just doing it to make Carter jealous because he ran off.” I walked Damon down the aisle, our fingers interlaced. Damon’s hand trembled slightly. He lowered his head. I knew why everyone was whispering. Damon had a terrible reputation. He was known as a trust-fund baby who spent his nights in clubs, surrounded by scandals and models. His name was mud in our social circle. Decent families wouldn’t let their daughters near him. There were even vicious rumors that his promiscuous lifestyle had left him with incurable diseases. But I knew the truth. That wasn’t him. “Layla, are you acting on impulse?” Damon asked, his voice low. “If you just need to save face, I’ll play along. I’ll help you.” “But don’t ruin your life just to win an argument.” My heart ached for him. Just as I was about to reassure him, the church doors were kicked open with a bang. “Layla! Stop this nonsense!” “Marriage isn’t a game! You can’t just swap the groom! Get your ass over here!” My father stormed in. He must have heard the news. Guests stood up out of respect, some trying to curry favor with him. But he only had eyes for me, and they were filled with rage. “Why are you standing there? Are you deaf?” Damon frowned, whispering to me, “Go. Don’t embarrass your dad.” I stood my ground. As a child, I was terrified of that look. Whenever he glared at me, I folded. He told me to give my favorite toys to Bella. I did. He told me to give the biggest bedroom to Bella. I packed my bags. 4 Even when he told me to marry Carter, I dutifully tried on dresses and took etiquette classes to be the perfect Sterling wife. But today, I was going rogue. “Dad, I’m marrying Damon.” My voice was calm, cutting through the tension. “I’ve listened to you my whole life. But this time, I’m choosing the person I want to spend my life with.” Slap! The sound echoed through the high ceilings of the venue. The room went dead silent. “You ungrateful brat! If you marry Damon today, you are no daughter of mine!” I looked at him, touching my stinging cheek, and smiled. “Fine. Let’s sever ties then.” No one expected the obedient Layla to say something so rebellious. My father’s face turned white, his chest heaving. “You… you’re disowning your father for this piece of trash?” “I spoiled you too much! That’s why you’re so out of control!” Since my mom died and he married my stepmother, bringing Bella into the family, hitting me had become normal for him. He raised his hand to slap me again. But before it could land, a hand with prominent knuckles caught his wrist in a vice grip. Damon stepped in front of me, his expression icy. “Touch her again. I dare you.” He growled the words. Tears pricked my eyes. Growing up, no one had ever protected me like this. Everyone thought I was crazy for marrying the “playboy.” But only I knew the truth. In my past life, on the day I was dying in childbirth, it was the anniversary of Bella’s death. My husband and my father were both at the cemetery, mourning her. No one cared if I lived or died. The doctors issued a critical condition notice.

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When my childhood sweetheart pushed me off the villa balcony, my husband was on the phone, calling her “baby” in that adoring tone he used to save for me. I should have died. Instead, I ended up half-paralyzed. Unsatisfied, she hired men to assault me, and then, broken and bleeding, I was buried alive in the villa’s backyard. Three years after my death, she was diagnosed with kidney failure. That’s when my husband finally remembered me. He brought a team of bodyguards to the private villa to drag me back. When they couldn’t find me, he assumed I was hiding. “As long as you agree to donate a kidney to Ruby, I’ll end your punishment. You can come home.” In the end, he dug three feet into the earth, only to find my bleached bones. 1 Carter burst into the private villa with his security team, a permanent scowl etched on his face. This place was managed by his people, but no one was allowed near the main house. It was a prison for me, his “wayward” wife. But I had been dead for three years. No one had lived here since. Weeds choked the walkway, waist-high. Carter wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Nora is so lazy. Look at this place. She couldn’t even be bothered to pull a few weeds.” “Compared to Ruby, she’s trash.” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth, shielding himself from a smell only he could detect. “Nora! You addicted to living alone? Get your ass out here!” He stood there, high and mighty, his eyes full of disdain. As if his presence here was some great favor he was bestowing upon me. He shouted my name several times. Silence. Carter’s patience snapped. “Break the door down,” he ordered his men coldly. With a crash, the guards kicked the door in and rushed inside to grab me. Five minutes later, they came back out, looking confused. “Mr. Sterling, your wife isn’t inside.” Carter’s brow furrowed deeper. He didn’t believe it. He went in himself, tore through the house, and found nothing. He pulled out his phone to call me. It had been three years since we last spoke. He frowned, scrolling through his contacts, trying to remember my number. Finally, he tapped on a contact labeled “Bitch” and hit dial. Floating beside him, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Carter hated me that much. Three years ago, his childhood sweetheart, Ruby, had a miscarriage and blamed it on me. Carter branded me a vicious woman and locked me away in this desolate villa to “reflect.” 2 Three years locked away, and he hadn’t thought of me once. Now, calling me felt unnatural to him. The call didn’t even connect. Straight to voicemail. Carter cursed angrily. “Fine, Nora. You want to hide? You think I won’t find you?” “Keep hiding. I want to see how long you can keep this up!” Suddenly, a loud, exaggerated laugh echoed from a dark corner. Carter spun around angrily. A drunkard in tattered clothes was sitting against the wall in a pile of weeds, holding a broken bottle. He looked up at Carter with bleary eyes. “Stop yelling. The person inside is long dead.” The drunkard laughed again, a sound so desolate it could have been a sob. “Where did this drunk come from?” One of the guards, eager to please, stepped forward and kicked the man over. “You dare act like this in front of Mr. Sterling? Don’t you know this whole mountain belongs to the Sterling family? Get lost before the boss gets angry!” The drunkard took the kick without flinching, as if he felt no pain. He just lay on the ground, laughing maniacally. “Dead. Died terribly.” “She was pushed from upstairs. Fell and got paralyzed. Blood everywhere.” “And… she was so beautiful. Those animals defiled her, then buried her alive.” Carter frowned deeply, looking at the drunkard with disgust. “Who are you? Where is Nora?” The drunkard just kept laughing and crying. His bottle had spilled clear liquid all over his face. It was impossible to tell if it was booze or tears. Still drunk, he crawled over and hugged Carter’s leg. “She was a good person. A good person.” “If she hadn’t given me a meal back then, I would have starved to death… What a pity, she died.” Carter kicked him away coldly. The man landed on a small mound of dirt. The drunkard seemed to sober up instantly. He scrambled to fix the mound, muttering apologies. 3 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Carter looked confused. “What is that?” The drunkard smiled bitterly. “It’s her grave.” Carter looked closely. A crude, misshapen wooden plaque had a few words carved into it: “Nora’s Grave.” The drunkard treated the plaque like a treasure, carefully setting it upright. “Crazy old fool.” Carter pushed the man aside with a cold laugh and kicked the plaque in two. “Three years, and Nora is still pull these manipulative stunts. A fake grave? Really? How dramatic.” He not only destroyed the marker but ordered his guards to flatten the mound with shovels. “I want to see how long Nora can keep up this act!” The drunkard screamed as his hard work was destroyed. “I told you she’s dead! Why won’t you leave her alone?” “Miss Nora was such a good person, why did she have to suffer like this?” Carter looked at him with pure loathing and ignored him completely. He addressed the air. “Nora, I know you can hear me.” “I order you to come out within three days. Be a good girl and donate your kidney to Ruby. I’ll end your punishment and let you come home.” “If you keep playing these games and hiding, you will never see your son again!” Carter turned and left. Before going, he ordered his men to break the drunkard’s leg. “You filthy beggar, this is the price for offending Mr. Sterling!” I floated there, wanting to cry, but no tears would come. My son, Leo. I hadn’t seen him in three years. Carter knew Leo was my weakness. He was using him to threaten me. If I were alive, I would have run out immediately. But I was dead. 4 After Carter and his men left, the villa returned to its desolate silence. By the flattened mound of dirt, only the drunkard remained, sobbing. He was mourning me. Seeing his leg broken and bleeding because of me made my heart ache. In three years, not many people knew I was dead. But this drunkard was the only one who never abandoned me. He had been beaten for stealing once, and I had gotten a doctor to treat him and given him some food. He considered me his savior and refused to leave, guarding the villa door for me. He was there the day Ruby snuck in and pushed me off the balcony. He watched helplessly from outside as I fell. Falling from five stories should have killed me. But I survived, half-paralyzed. The drunkard ran like mad to get help. In that window of time, Ruby, seeing I wasn’t dead, hired some drifters to assault me. Then they threw my broken body into the backyard and buried me alive. “As long as you’re alive, you’re a threat to me and Carter,” she had said, her smile poisonous. “Only when you’re dead can I truly be Mrs. Sterling.” “Don’t blame me when you get to hell. Blame your bad luck for being in my way.” Ruby’s vicious smile was the last thing I saw. Maybe my resentment was too strong, because after I died, I didn’t move on. I was trapped here. I had done nothing wrong, yet I was framed and murdered. As the dirt covered me, I had only one thought: I wanted to see my son one last time. Without me, how would Ruby treat him? Three days later, Carter returned. This time, he brought a frail-looking Ruby and a small boy in a suit. Leo! I floated toward him joyfully. Before I could touch him, Carter grabbed him by the neck. “Nora, I’m giving you one last chance. Three days are up. If you don’t come out, I’ll strangle your son with my own hands!”

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