My brother, thanks to me, became the most trustworthy owner in the pet business. Today was the day of his magazine interview. At the celebratory banquet, he grandly announced that his pet brand was valued at over a hundred million dollars. My mom excitedly told the reporter, “Our Justin just has such a big heart, so patient with little animals.” The reporter looked at me. “I heard the older sister is specifically in charge of after-sales service?” Justin’s face immediately darkened. “Her? She’s just a pet mortician, a jinx! Don’t let her bad luck touch our family’s fortune.” He shoved a cheap amulet into my hand and pushed me away in front of everyone. I watched his hypocritical face, calmly opening the largest pet owner forum in the country. I posted a new thread using the ID Soul Whisperer, a name known to everyone in the industry. “Effective immediately, Eminent Pets is permanently blacklisted by me. Also, a bonus: this brand’s puppy/kitten mortality rate over the past three months is 40%. Cause of death: inbreeding.”

Less than thirty seconds after the post went live, my phone exploded. The first call was from my mom. “Alice! Have you lost your mind! Are you trying to ruin your brother?!” “You need to, right now, immediately, delete that nonsense!” I didn’t say anything, listening to her impotent rage on the other end. “He’s your own brother! He’s worth hundreds of millions, and that reflects well on you too!” “Are you trying to drag our entire family down with you? How could I have given birth to something so vicious?!” Vicious? I looked at the faint scar on my wrist. That was three years ago. To get Justin the one million dollars he needed as start-up capital, I went to an underground blood clinic to sell my blood. The needle wasn’t clean, and the infection left that scar. Back then, Justin held the money, excitedly telling me, “Sis, when I make it big, I’ll buy you the biggest house and make you the happiest sister in the world!” My mom was wiping away tears beside him. “Our Alice is just so sensible. Justin will surely never forget you once he’s successful.” Now, he was successful, and he really hadn’t forgotten me. He repaid me by calling me a jinx and a pet mortician. I let out a soft laugh. My mom’s curses on the other end paused. “What are you laughing at? You ungrateful wretch! Do you even have the nerve to laugh?” “Mom,” I said calmly, “do you remember how Dad died?” The phone line fell silent for a moment. My dad died on a construction site. To earn extra money to buy Justin the latest game console, he worked thirty-six hours straight and fell from the scaffolding. That one million dollars, it was the price of my father’s life. I hung up and blocked my mom’s number. Immediately after, Justin’s SnapChat messages popped up, each one more aggressive than the last. “Alice, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Are you pushing your luck? I’m telling you, delete that post and apologize right now, or I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this city!” “You think that pathetic ID means anything? I can have my PR team tear you apart and brand you a deranged liar in minutes!” I didn’t reply. I clicked open the backend of the Soul Whisperer ID, looking at the millions of followers and the accreditation: “Top-tier pet behaviorist and compassionate pet end-of-life specialist.” Justin, do you really think I only have you? I just never thought that whatever remaining affection we had would shatter so quickly, so ridiculously.

At that moment, the forum exploded. “OMG? Soul Whisperer herself is tearing into a brand now?!” “Eminent Pets? Is that the company with ads everywhere lately, claiming the owner is a reincarnation of a cat saint?” “40% mortality rate? Seriously? I just adopted a Ragdoll from them, I’m so scared!” “Soul Whisperer never lies. Can’t wait for Eminent Pets to come out and dig its own grave.” The public outcry spread faster than I’d imagined. Justin’s PR team reacted quickly too. In less than half an hour, a lengthy, emotional post appeared on Eminent Pets’ official Ins account. The article painted Justin as a self-made man who loved animals, but was a poor brother being suppressed by his jealous older sister. It claimed I was maliciously spreading rumors because I’d always been reclusive and had a sinister line of work, constantly jealous of my brother’s success. The article also included several photos of me. One was of me at a pet cemetery, squatting on the ground arranging flowers for a recently buried puppy, my face haggard, eyes gloomy. Another was of me rushing out of my house in my pajamas late at night after getting a call for help, my hair messy, looking like a lunatic. Finally, the article urged everyone not to believe rumors and attached several screenshots of so-called customer rave reviews. In the screenshots, customers praised Eminent Pets for its excellent after-sales service and the owner’s patience. Those customers were all people I had personally comforted in the middle of the night on the phone. Those good reviews were all for me. Now, they had become Justin’s weapons against me. My phone rang again; it was an unknown number. I answered, and it was my mom. “Alice, Mom is begging you, your brother almost risked his life for this company. For Mom’s sake, please let him go.” “He knows he made a mistake. He said he’d give you money, a million dollars, as long as you release a statement saying your account was hacked.” Listening to her words, I couldn’t help but gag, my hand trembling too much to hold the phone. The one million dollars my father died for, in their eyes, was worth so little. All my blood, sweat, and sleepless nights over three years, could be bought off for a million dollars. I laughed in anger, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, tell Justin.” “I don’t want his one million dollars.” “I want him to be publicly disgraced and utterly ruined.”

My silence contrasted sharply with Justin’s emotional accusations. Some different voices began to emerge online. “Honestly, the sister’s job is a bit… unlucky, so it’s normal for her to be mentally twisted.” “It’s not impossible to be jealous of her brother’s success, especially since he’s a billionaire now.” “Soul Whisperer used to be amazing, but this time it involves family, so it’s hard to say.” Justin’s PR team immediately seized the opportunity, buying a massive wave of bots to manipulate the narrative. “Poor Justin, being hurt by his own family like this.” “The sister is too malicious, she can’t stand to see her brother do well.” My DMs were flooded with thousands of hateful messages. Some called me malicious, some cursed my whole family, and some even photoshopped my picture onto a memorial portrait. Justin seemed to think victory was within his grasp. He grandly announced that at 8 PM, he would publicly respond to the defamation incident in his live stream, alongside the company’s legal team, and would present conclusive evidence to prove my lies. At the same time, he sent me a final ultimatum. “Alice, you still have a chance before 8 PM. Delete the post, apologize. Otherwise, prepare to receive my lawyer’s letter and be doxxed and cursed by everyone online.” “I made you ‘Soul Whisperer,’ and I can just as easily make you a social outcast, hounded by everyone. I have all your clients’ information right here.” It was a blatant threat. He actually wanted to use the pain of those who had lost their beloved pets to threaten me. I looked at that message, and my last shred of hope completely shattered. I didn’t reply to him. Instead, I used the Soul Whisperer account to post a second message. “The truth will speak for itself. No further words needed. Tonight at 8 PM, on my live stream, see you there.” Below it was an image. It was a corner of my desk, with a document clearly visible on top, its cover emblazoned with large characters: *“Preliminary Evidence Summary Regarding Eminent Pet Co., Ltd. CEO Justin Reid’s Alleged Commercial Fraud and Animal Cruelty.”* Below it, a corner of a lawyer’s practicing certificate was visible. The post went live, and the entire internet erupted. Justin’s phone rang immediately, and he said frantically, “Sis! Sis! What exactly are you trying to do?! We’re family! You can’t do this to me!” I listened coldly. “What did you call me?” He froze. “Sis…” “Justin, from the moment you pushed me away at that celebration and called me a jinx, I stopped having you as a brother.” “As for family,” I paused, remembering my mom’s vicious curses, “you all don’t deserve it.” After hanging up, my mom’s relentless calls started again. I didn’t answer, just muted my phone. Unable to reach me, she stormed to my apartment door. “Alice! Open the door! You monster! Open the door for me!” She pounded frantically on the door, cursing me with every hateful word imaginable. I stood behind the door, watching her face, distorted by anger, through the peephole. That face, once so familiar, now chilled me with its strangeness. When she tired of yelling, she started to cry. “Alice, Mom was wrong, Mom will get down on her knees for you, okay? Please don’t ruin Justin, this is his only business. If he falls, it will be the death of your mom!” She really slowly knelt, her forehead pressed against the cold security door, sobbing uncontrollably. I closed my eyes. The contrast between everything in the past and now made it impossible to breathe. I used every ounce of my strength to keep myself from collapsing to the floor. I don’t know how long it was before the suffocating cries and curses from outside finally stopped. Leaning against the cold door, I slowly slid to the floor. My phone screen glowed faintly, displaying the time: 7:50 PM. Ten minutes until the live stream. Just then, a strange number abruptly called. I hesitated before answering, not speaking. A low, steady male voice came from the other end. “Ms. Alice, this is Mr. Davies.” Justin’s biggest investor, Mr. Davies, known in capital circles for his ruthless tactics. He seemed to know I was listening and chuckled softly. “My people are downstairs at your building. I’m giving you ten final minutes to cancel the live stream. Otherwise… I won’t just make sure you can’t survive in this city, I’ll also make you understand that some things are far worse than being publicly disgraced and utterly ruined.” “For example, letting your clients’ data be spread across the entire internet overnight.” “What do you think those people, who have just lost their beloved pets and saw you as their last hope, will do to you when they discover their privacy and grief have been leaked by you?” The call was abruptly disconnected, leaving only a dial tone in my ear. I stiffly looked up at the window, the night was deep, as if countless eyes were lurking in the darkness.

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Julian Thorne and I had been arch-nemeses since childhood. If he was second in exams, I made damn sure I was never first. He started a company; I started one just to crush his into bankruptcy. The day he hit rock bottom, I was uncorking a bottle of champagne, ready to celebrate. Then his notoriously powerful grandmother showed up. She slapped a check for ten million dollars and a marriage contract onto my desk. “Marry my grandson for one year, get him back on his feet. Do it, and I’ll give you another ninety million.” I looked at the contract, then at the ruined Julian, and smiled. The best way to torment him? Become his legal wife, and in his most desperate hour, utterly humiliate him with money. I signed the papers. “Don’t worry, Grandma. I promise I’ll ‘transform’ him completely.” The red marriage certificate from the courthouse felt searing hot in my hands. I, Valerie Hayes, twenty-six years old, was married. To my rival of twenty years, Julian Thorne. Back in the “marital home” I’d prepared for him—a penthouse apartment overlooking the entire city—I tossed the two scarlet documents onto the console table by the entrance. Julian followed me, silent. The Julian I knew was always charismatic and full of vigor, the center of attention wherever he went. His custom-tailored suits had always accentuated his lean, powerful physique, and his gaze towards me was always a mix of challenge and utter contempt. Now, he wore a faded, worn-out T-shirt and jeans with frayed knees. His head was bowed, as silent as a hollow statue. I walked to the center of the living room and clapped my hands. Chloe, my assistant, quickly led in two bodyguards, each carrying a huge black suitcase. Click. The cases were opened. Bundles of crisp, red bills, forming two small mountains on the expensive Persian rug, exuding that unique, intoxicating scent of freshly printed cash. A full ten million dollars. I walked towards the money in my high heels, nudging one of the stacks with my heel. “Julian Thorne.” I called his name. His body tensed, and he slowly lifted his head to look at me. His eyes, once sharp as an eagle’s, were now bloodshot, blazing with a storm of hatred and humiliation. I loved that look. “This is your price tag.” I pointed at the cash on the floor, giving him a dazzling smile. “The ten million Grandma gave me? I didn’t touch a single dollar. I had it all converted into cash and brought it here for you. Do you like it? Been a while since you’ve seen this much money, hasn’t it?” His fists clenched at his sides, his jawline rigid. “Valerie Hayes, what exactly do you want?” “What do I want?” I walked up to him, extending my index finger to poke his chest. “From today on, you, Julian Thorne, will eat my food, live in my home, and spend my money. In return, you will obey my every command.” I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear, in a whisper meant only for him: “The first thing I want you to do is kneel. And then, slowly, bundle by bundle, place every last one of those bills into the safe.” His breathing hitched, his chest rising and falling violently. “You’re dreaming!” He ground out three words through clenched teeth. “Oh?” I straightened up, glancing around the opulent apartment. “Nice place, isn’t it? Best location in the city. Your parents’ dingy, dilapidated apartment, I heard it even leaks when it rains. And that little secretary of yours, what was her name again? Oh, Izzy Dubois. Heard she was so desperate to scrape together cash for you, she even dipped into her mom’s surgery fund. Last I heard, she’s practically living at the hospital, sobbing her eyes out.” With every word, Julian’s face grew paler. “You wouldn’t dare touch them!” “And why wouldn’t I?” I grinned wider. “Julian, what leverage do you possibly have to negotiate with me now? Kneel, or don’t kneel. Your choice. My patience, however, isn’t exactly boundless.” The air became deathly still. I could distinctly hear his ragged breathing and the soft crackle of his knuckles as he clenched his fists. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second. Just when I thought he would rather die than comply, his knees buckled, and he dropped heavily to the cold floor. That dull thud was the sweetest symphony my ears had ever graced in over two decades. He knelt there, his back remaining ramrod straight, like an unyielding oak. But he knelt nonetheless. He reached out and began to pick up the bundles of cash, one by one. His movements were slow, each stack lifted as if he were being flayed alive, piece by agonizing piece. I gazed down at him, a feeling of unprecedented exhilaration coursing through me. Julian Thorne, you’ve finally reached this point. The game of tormenting you has only just begun. I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of his humiliated, bowed back. Then, I casually strolled over to the liquor cabinet, poured myself a glass of red wine, and leaned back on the sofa, savoring this exquisite scene. He finally placed all the money into the safe. The moment he closed the cabinet door, he stood up, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me. “Now, are you satisfied?” “Satisfied?” I swirled the red wine in my glass. “This is just the beginning. Go. Fill the master bathroom’s tub for me. I need a bath.” He didn’t move. “What’s wrong?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to repeat myself?” He closed his eyes, then reopened them. All emotion had vanished, replaced by a profound, empty numbness. He turned and silently walked towards the bedroom. I watched his retreating back, the smile on my lips growing wider.

The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed. Julian had already prepared breakfast: sandwiches, fried eggs, and milk. A standard Western breakfast, meticulously arranged. I sat down, took a bite of the sandwich, and then, right in front of him, spit it out. “Too dry.” I took a sip of milk. “Too hot.” I pushed the plate away and stood up. “Do it again.” He stood by the dining table, wearing the cheap apron I’d provided, his eyes downcast, his expression unreadable. “Yes.” He uttered a single word, then turned and walked back into the kitchen. I wasn’t interested in watching his pitiful performance of silent suffering. I grabbed my car keys, ready to head to the office. “Wait.” He called out. I turned to see him emerge from the kitchen, untying his apron. “According to the contract, I’m supposed to start working at your company today.” “Oh, right.” I’d almost forgotten. “Let’s go then.” We didn’t exchange a single word throughout the drive. When we arrived at the Hayes Tech building, I told him to go up by himself and report directly to HR. I, meanwhile, leisurely parked my car, timing my entrance to the company lobby perfectly. As soon as I walked in, I saw a crowd gathered around the front desk, whispering and pointing in a certain direction. I followed their gaze. Mr. Davies, the HR Director, was leading Julian Thorne through the lobby. “Oh my God, isn’t that Mr. Thorne from Thorne Innovations? What’s he doing at our company?” “Didn’t you see what he’s wearing? Looks like thrift store finds. I heard he went bankrupt and is drowning in debt.” “No way? What’s he doing here? The HR Director is personally escorting him. Is he some department head?” “Are you crazy? Val would never let a disgraced, bankrupt man like him be a director.” Amidst the whispers, a delicate figure pushed her way through the crowd and blocked Julian’s path. It was Izzy Dubois, Julian’s former secretary, now a team lead in my company’s marketing department. “Julian!” Izzy’s eyes welled up, her face etched with heartache as she looked at him. “How… how are you here? They said you went bankrupt, but I didn’t believe them! How can you work for Valerie? She’s a monster; she’ll torment you to death!” She looked like a helpless woman whose man had been stolen by a villain, radiating a mixture of fragility and indignation. Julian looked at her, his expression utterly devoid of emotion. “I’m here to work.” “Work?” Izzy’s tears began to fall. “What kind of work? What position did Valerie give you? Julian, don’t be afraid. I’ll talk to Val; she can’t treat you like this!” With that, she turned and ran towards me. She froze when she saw me, then quickly put on a show of righteous indignation. “Valerie! How could you do this to Julian? He used to be such a proud man! Crushing his company wasn’t enough for you? Why do you have to bring him here to humiliate him further?” I looked at her and smiled. “Ms. Dubois, are you questioning me?” “I… I’m not.” Izzy visibly flinched under my stare, but still pushed on, “I just feel so terrible for Julian. Valerie, please, let him go. You can make him do anything, just don’t make him come to the office to be stared at by everyone.” Her words, seemingly pleading for Julian, were actually a carefully crafted jab, reminding everyone how pathetic Julian was now, and how cruel I was. Such a classic white lotus. I couldn’t be bothered with her theatrics and addressed the HR Director directly. “Mr. Davies, why are you just standing there? Take him to his new post.” Mr. Davies wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Yes, yes.” Izzy grew anxious. “Valerie, what position is it?” I lifted my chin, my voice not loud, but clear enough for everyone in the lobby to hear. “Oh, I forgot to inform everyone. This, Mr. Julian Thorne, is our new janitor, starting today. His main responsibility… the men’s restrooms from the 13th to 15th floor.” The entire lobby fell into a dead silence. Everyone stared at Julian with incredulous eyes. The golden boy, the tech mogul in the making, now going to clean toilets? Izzy’s face instantly went completely white. Her lips trembled, unable to utter a single word. I reveled in everyone’s reactions. Finally, my gaze fell on Julian. He kept his head bowed; I couldn’t see his expression. But I could imagine how twisted that handsome face must be right now. I wanted everyone to see that Julian Thorne was nothing more than a dog at Val Hayes’s feet. I strode in my high heels towards my private elevator, my mood soaring. Just before the elevator doors closed, I saw Julian finally lift his head. His gaze cut through the crowd, landing precisely on me. In his eyes, there was no longer the hatred or humiliation from last night, only a profound, icy stillness that went impossibly deep.

The thirteenth floor was the Marketing Department, Izzy Dubois’s territory. I deliberately assigned Julian there, hoping to watch a good show. That afternoon, I found an excuse to “inspect” and strolled over to the thirteenth floor. Stepping out of the elevator, I saw Izzy in the breakroom doorway, holding a cup of coffee and chatting with a few female colleagues. Julian, meanwhile, was mopping the floor not far away, a bucket of water and a mop his companions. “Izzy, were you and Julian Thorne really… an item?” a female colleague gossiped. Izzy sighed, her voice laced with infinite regret and melancholy. “That’s all in the past. I just never thought he’d fall to this level. To think, back then, he was so devoted to me… Oh, let’s not talk about it.” Her words were veiled, half-spoken, designed to spark endless speculation, as if Julian had been madly in love with her. Another colleague chimed in, “Why are you still bothering with him now that he’s like this? A toilet cleaner? How utterly depressing.” “Don’t say that.” Izzy immediately countered, though her voice was soft and lacked conviction. “He’s only like this temporarily. Julian is so talented, he’s sure to rise again. I… I’ll wait for him.” “Wait for him? Please.” A sarcastic voice cut in. “I think he’s Val’s personal project now. Didn’t you see Val this morning? She’s practically parading him around as her kept man, declaring ownership. You, my dear, should just give up that fantasy.” Izzy’s face flushed then paled, then flushed again. She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t… I just feel sorry for him…” As she spoke, she carried her coffee, looking utterly pitiful, towards Julian. “Julian, honey, are you tired? I made you some coffee.” Julian stopped mopping, looking at her with an unreadable expression. He didn’t reach out to take the cup. “I don’t drink coffee.” Izzy’s smile froze. “But, you used to love the Blue Mountain coffee I ground for you…” “That was before.” Julian cut her off, his voice icy, devoid of warmth. “Ms. Dubois, if you have nothing else, please move. You’re blocking my path.” Izzy’s face completely changed. She stared at Julian in disbelief, as if she didn’t recognize him. The surrounding colleagues were all watching the spectacle, openly amused. I leaned against the wall, barely suppressing a laugh. This drama was even more entertaining than I’d imagined. Back home that evening, I kicked off my high heels the moment I walked in, padding barefoot on the carpet. “Julian, where’s dinner?” He emerged from the kitchen, still wearing that ridiculous apron. “Almost ready.” I threw myself onto the sofa, issuing commands like a queen. “I want Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, Australian lobster, and Kobe beef.” He paused. “We don’t have those ingredients at home.” “Then go buy them.” I tossed my black card onto the table. “You have an hour. If you’re not back with them, you’re not eating tonight.” He looked at the card, then at me, said nothing, picked up the card, and left. I hummed a tune, turned on the TV, and waited for my lavish meal. But before he returned, my stomach began to cramp. My old enemy. Period cramps. Can’t have anything cold, can’t overexert myself. Today had been packed with meetings and dealing with Izzy, leaving me utterly exhausted. And I’d been walking barefoot on the cold floors all evening. Now, karma was catching up. I curled into a ball on the sofa, clutching my stomach, cold sweat beading on my forehead. I fumbled for my phone to call Chloe to bring my painkillers, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. The cramping intensified, a twisting agony that made me feel like I was dying. Just as my consciousness began to blur, the door opened. Julian was back. He saw me in that state, paused, then dropped his bags of groceries and rushed over. “What’s wrong?” “My… my stomach…” I gasped, squeezing out the words through clenched teeth. Without another word, he scooped me up bridal-style and hurried to the bedroom. He gently placed me on the bed and pulled the covers over me. I expected him to rush out for meds or pace anxiously, like some hero in a romance novel. But he didn’t. He simply turned and walked out of the room. I curled up, writhing in pain, a cold laugh forming in my mind. See, Valerie, this is the ‘husband’ you bought with money. You could die in front of him, and he wouldn’t spare you a second glance. A few minutes later, he returned. He held a hot water bottle, a glass of warm water, and a strip of pills. He tucked the hot water bottle into my embrace, then helped me sit up, offering the pills and water to my lips. “Take these.” I looked at him. They were pills for stomach cramps, the exact brand I always took. I was stunned. “How did you know…?” “They’re in your dresser drawer,” he said flatly, avoiding my gaze. I silently took the medicine. The warmth of the hot water bottle and the effect of the medication gradually eased the agony in my stomach. I leaned against the headboard, watching him. He didn’t leave. Instead, he sat on the rug beside the bed, silently keeping vigil. Only a dim bedside lamp was on, casting a soft, golden glow on his face, softening his usually sharp features slightly. I suddenly realized I had never looked at him this closely, this quietly, before. How did he know where my medicine was? Was it a coincidence? Or… Julian’s “consideration” only lasted one night. The next day, he reverted to being the silent, submissive janitor and house-husband.

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When I was nine months pregnant, the woman Julian Blackwood considered his one true love, Seraphina Hayes, moved into our home under false pretenses. Every time she saw me, she’d dramatically clutch her chest, a picture of delicate sorrow, as if my very presence was a painful memory for her. Julian became convinced I was deliberately parading my huge belly around to provoke Seraphina. “Seraphina is too delicate to have children! And you insist on flaunting your pregnancy in front of her every day! It seems you won’t learn your lesson without a good punishment!” He ordered his staff to seal me away in the forgotten attic, forbidding anyone from bringing me food. I struggled, begging him, telling him the ultrasound showed the twins were overgrown, and the doctor had ordered me to be admitted for labor *today*. But he just laughed, as if I’d told a hilarious joke, his voice like shards of ice: “You’re not due for another three days! Stop playing the victim! Go to the attic and think about what you’ve done! This is what happens when you upset Seraphina!” My contractions ripped through me, so intense I clawed my nails until they broke, but no one came to open the door. My raw, gut-wrenching screams echoed in that lonely attic for hours. Until I was soaked in my own blood, a small, unformed baby still tragically stuck in the raw, bloody cavern where my body had torn. Three days later, Julian, sipping a plain, unappetizing broth, finally spoke: “Tell Iris to come out and make me some broth, then have her go apologize to Seraphina. If her apology is sincere, then send her to the hospital to deliver the baby.” No one dared to answer. Because the blood from the attic had already seeped out, staining the second step of the staircase.

“Why isn’t that jealous woman, Iris, screaming anymore?” “Sir… is Madam alright? Her screams last night were truly agonizing, heart-wrenching…” Julian Blackwood took a sip of his broth, scoffing dismissively. “No one knows Iris better than I do. She’s just faking it for attention! This time, I’m going to teach her a lesson she won’t forget, so she’ll finally leave Seraphina alone!” Mr. Davis, the housekeeper, glanced nervously towards the attic, stammering: “But Madam is carrying twins, Sir. The doctor said she needed to be admitted for labor early…” Julian’s hand, holding the spoon, paused. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. “Is that so?” He scraped his spoon around the bowl for a moment, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Fine. Tell Iris to come out, make me some broth, and then crawl over here to apologize to Seraphina! It’s her due date today, so if her apology is sincere, we’ll send her to the hospital.” Julian warmed a glass of milk and walked into the guest bedroom. On the bed, Seraphina Hayes was breathing softly, evenly. The blanket had slipped off her shoulder, and a sliver of cleavage was tantalizingly revealed. Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He stared at her for a long moment, visibly fighting to tear his eyes away, before finally leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. Seraphina slowly opened her eyes, stretched languidly, and pouted, her voice a soft, alluring purr: “Julian~ You’re teasing me again~” Julian parted his legs, letting Seraphina settle into his lap, his fingers gently tracing her waist. “How could anyone resist when you look like that?” Seraphina buried her head in Julian’s chest, purring contentedly. “But Julian, Iris is carrying your child, and we’re both women. I can’t let you betray her when she’s at her most vulnerable!” Suddenly, as if remembering something, she looked up, her face etched with anxiety: “Iris was screaming so loudly last night, was she going into labor? Oh… even hearing Iris scream in such agony, I still feel envious! To carry *your* baby, Julian – even the pain of childbirth would be a sweet happiness for me.” Sweet happiness? My spirit, now a ghost, hovered near them. The attic floor was slick with crimson blood, a horrifying canvas that covered every inch of the room. The walls bore deep gouges, raw streaks where I’d clawed in agony, fragments of my broken nails and torn flesh clinging to the plaster. And below, I’d torn myself apart, desperately trying to bring my children into the world. When I finally managed to deliver the first baby, he was already still, lifeless. Blood erupted from the gaping wound in my lower body, and the second baby was tragically stuck there, half-delivered in a ruined, bloody mess. My hair was matted with sticky blood. Cradling my lifeless, blood-soaked baby, my eyes wide and unseeing, I finally stopped breathing. I wondered what Julian’s reaction would be, whenever he finally saw this gruesome scene. But now, he was only concerned with pulling Seraphina deeper into his embrace. His voice was thick with guilt and self-reproach: “It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have let Iris, pregnant or not, upset you. I swear, this is the last time *that woman* will ever be pregnant with my child! You won’t see another pregnant woman in this house, ever.” “You don’t know the lengths Iris went to, trying to manipulate me. She lied, claimed she was terrified of a difficult birth because the twins were so big, even said the doctor insisted she be hospitalized immediately.” “She’s a wilderness survival expert! She can last three days and nights in the wild without food! And she tells me she’s *scared* of childbirth?” My chest tightened in a sharp, agonizing pain, stealing my breath. A pregnant woman’s body is already so vulnerable, let alone carrying twins. From the moment I conceived, the relentless discomfort of this pregnancy had drained me, body and soul. Several times, my poor health during pregnancy forced me into the hospital to prevent miscarriage.

When I was first locked in the attic, I pleaded and begged him to let me out. Because if I was truly locked up for three days, it would mean three lives lost – mine and both my babies! But Julian, right in front of me, loudly instructed Mr. Davis: “Go! Throw the keys into the filthiest river you can find! And no one, I mean NO ONE, is to secretly open that door for Iris! In three days, I want her crawling on her knees to apologize to Seraphina!” Desperate to survive, I tore down a framed picture from the wall, my hands bleeding, and used the jagged edges to pry at the attic window. I clawed at the frame, my fingernails brutally ripping off one by one. Gritting my teeth against the searing pain, I pushed myself out the window and onto the narrow ledge, clinging desperately to the roof tiles, inching my way towards an adjacent room, hoping to escape. But what did I find? Down in the garden, Julian Blackwood was passionately kissing Seraphina, pulling her fiercely against him. They were kissing with reckless abandon, a wild frenzy that was on the verge of spiraling out of control. Seraphina abruptly pushed Julian away, her head snapping up towards the attic, and she let out a piercing scream. Julian looked up and his face contorted with fury at the sight of me desperately trying to escape. He ordered men to bring a construction crane. He personally operated it, using the huge shovel attachment to pin against my swollen belly, brutally forcing me back into the attic. Excruciating pain exploded in my abdomen, and blood, seemingly endless, began to stream, gushing relentlessly from between my legs. Finally, my eyes remained wide open, staring blankly, my blood-soaked baby clutched lifelessly in my arms. And then I stopped breathing. Julian held the cup of warm milk to Seraphina’s lips. “I’ve already sent someone to bring Iris to apologize to you. If she’s sincere, we’ll send her to the hospital. If not, she can just give birth in the attic!” Seraphina took tiny sips of milk, but still managed to choke on a mouthful, coughing delicately, her eyes welling up with tears, a picture of fragile helplessness. “Julian, you can’t treat Iris like that! Childbirth is really dangerous for women!” Julian sighed, his eyes filled with doting affection as he looked at the girl in his arms: “You’re just too kind, that’s why women like Iris walk all over you! Iris is a wilderness survival expert; she could last three days without food or water! But you, my delicate little thing, you choke just from drinking milk!” He playfully tapped her nose. “And saying childbirth is dangerous, as if you’d know anything about it!” A flicker of panic crossed Seraphina’s eyes, but she quickly lowered her head, her voice laced with feigned hurt: “Only you, Julian… truly understand the delicate heart hidden beneath my strong exterior…” She looked up again, her eyes misty, her lips glistening from being gently bitten. Hooking her arms around Julian’s neck, she pressed her chest against his, a subtle, tantalizing rub. Julian could no longer resist. With a ragged breath, he kissed her, and Seraphina let out a soft murmur. Their lips tangled fiercely, their bodies hungry for each other. But at the last second, Seraphina abruptly pushed away the panting man: “No! You’re a married man, and Iris is still carrying your child! I won’t be a homewrecker!” Julian’s eyes blazed with barely contained desire. His voice was a raw, husky whisper: “Alright, Seraphina, I, Julian Blackwood, will never betray your true feelings! Just wait a little longer for me! A *clean* me, free of all this mess, will be worthy of touching a pure woman like you!” With that, still unsatisfied, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, as if she were the most precious, delicate jewel. A flash of triumph flickered in Seraphina’s eyes.

Julian couldn’t see it, but I could. Not a homewrecker? I found it utterly absurd, laughable! Then what about the countless times she tracked me down, shamelessly telling me that my pregnancy was just a temporary inconvenience, that I was simply ‘warming up the bed’ for her, and even the children I birthed would eventually call *her* ‘Mom’? What did *that* count as? She moved into my home under the pathetic excuse of being sick and alone. She openly flirted with Julian at the dinner table, so shamelessly that even our housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, couldn’t stand it and made a few pointed, sarcastic comments. Seraphina immediately ran to Julian, complaining that Mrs. Davis hadn’t washed the groceries properly, giving her a stomach bug, and demanded she be fired. Back then, I had no appetite due to my pregnancy, and Mrs. Davis’s cooking was the only thing I could stomach. Out of politeness, I approached her and offered to hire a private chef just for her. Her response was a stinging slap across my face. “It doesn’t matter if the food is good or not; what matters is knowing who the real lady of this house is! Iris, I want you to understand: there’s only one Mrs. Blackwood, and that’s *me*, Seraphina Hayes!” To further prove she would be Mrs. Blackwood, she huddled in Julian’s arms, whimpering like a kitten. She tearfully wailed about her misfortune, how she was cursed not to be able to bear him children. And seeing me, with my swollen belly, every day was bound to make her feel disheartened and sad. “I’ve tried my best to avoid Iris, but it’s impossible not to see her every day! Maybe I should just move out! Seraphina is so unhappy living in such constant pain!” Julian’s temper snapped. His face contorted into a cold, menacing mask as he lunged forward and slapped me so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor. “You *know* Seraphina gets distressed every time she sees a pregnant woman, yet you insist on parading your huge belly in front of her all day long! What exactly are you trying to accomplish?!” “You vile, wicked woman! You don’t deserve to be a mother! Today, I’m locking you in the attic! Let’s see how you like a taste of real hardship!” Several bodyguards grabbed my limbs, dragging and tossing me into the dusty, desolate attic. “The doctor told me to go to the hospital to deliver *today*! If I’m at the hospital, she won’t even *see* me!” I clawed desperately at the doorframe, begging through choking sobs. Julian sneered, “Even your lies need to be consistent. Your due date isn’t for another three days!” He ignored my desperate pleas, slamming the door shut with brutal force. My fingers were brutally caught in the frame, the searing pain making me arch my back and snatch my hand away, silencing any further words. Julian looked on, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, before locking the attic door. Meanwhile, back in the guest room, Julian and Seraphina were still lost in their passionate embrace, demanding from each other, when Mr. Davis came running, breathless, his voice trembling with panic: “Madam… Madam is gone!” “Gone?!” Julian snapped his head up, an irritated frown on his face, clearly annoyed by the interruption. Mr. Davis wiped the sweat from his forehead, his voice shaky: “The attic is covered in blood… Madam… she…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

Julian smoothed down his disheveled shirt. “What blood? Oh, she’s probably just spotting, a sign of labor, right? Send her to the hospital.” Mr. Davis swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue: “Madam… she’s not breathing anymore…” A flicker of panic entered Julian’s voice. Just as I leaned closer to hear, his tone hardened, becoming cold and vicious again. “Faking it! Keep faking it for me! I want to see how long she can keep up this act!” “She survived under such harsh conditions in the wilderness; she can hold her breath underwater for over ten minutes! She’s just trying to trick you all because you have no medical knowledge! Call my personal physician. I’ll expose her charade in front of him!” Mr. Davis’s eyes widened. “Mr. Blackwood, Madam’s babies are already…” “Whose orders do you follow?!” Julian interrupted impatiently. “Do I pay your salary, or does *that woman* pay your salary?” “Sir… I’ll go call the doctor immediately…” Mr. Davis sighed helplessly and left. Seraphina, soft and pliant, pressed against Julian. “Julian, don’t be angry. Anger is bad for your health.” “Iris is just so good at winning people over! How is it that after only a few years, this house belongs to her?!” Julian’s words struck me like a slap, waking me from my foolish delusions. In just three years, he had completely forgotten his old promises. On our wedding day, Julian, his eyes filled with love, had told me, “This is your home now, Iris. You are the sole lady of this house.” My tears streamed uncontrollably. Just moments ago, I was still foolishly fantasizing that if Julian knew I had died in childbirth, he might feel a trace of regret or self-reproach… How ridiculous I was now, was how foolish I had been then. I actually believed Julian’s promise that he would love me forever. Years ago, Julian and Seraphina were childhood sweethearts, destined for an arranged marriage. But Seraphina was unexpectedly diagnosed with a condition that made natural conception impossible. So, she left without a word, boarding a plane to another country, severing all contact with Julian. She claimed, melodramatically, that Julian was the sole heir to the Blackwood family, and how could she bear to marry him and end his family line? To escape the pain of their breakup, Julian joined a wilderness expedition team. And I, by chance, was the team leader. Later, when he proposed, he said I was courageous and resilient, the embodiment of all that was good in the world. That I was the guiding light in his lost wanderings, the destined harbor for his heart. After we married, he decided wilderness expeditions were too dangerous. He insisted I resign and stay home to prepare for pregnancy, to bear an heir for the Blackwood family. However, during the days Julian and Seraphina had broken up, he’d drowned himself in alcohol and sleepless nights, his body already frail and depleted. Under intense pressure from the Blackwood family elders to produce an heir, I worked tirelessly to restore his health while actively trying to conceive. Finally, in our third year of marriage, I successfully became pregnant with twins. Julian’s parents were so thrilled, they immediately called a press conference, announcing that the children I bore would be the sole heirs to the Blackwood Group. It was then that Seraphina returned to the country. And returned with a carefully crafted statement: “I have no interest in the company’s inheritance. Just being with Julian is all Seraphina needs to be happy for a lifetime.” 4 Julian started staying out all night, his crisp white shirts often bearing indelible red lipstick stains. I resolutely filed for divorce, but Julian refused to let me go, citing the twins in my womb as the Blackwood Group’s heirs.

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I’d been secretly dating my dad’s long-time friend for eight years, and we were finally planning to go public. Excited, I called my dad, asking him to meet me back in Riverwood. But when I got to boyfriend place, I overheard him talking to his best buddy. “Julian, you’re going on blind dates behind Eleanor’s back? Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out and dump you?” He chuckled softly, his answer annoyingly confident. “She won’t.” “All these years, she’s stayed by my side without any official status. No matter how much she put up with, she never once broke up with me.” “Honestly, I do love her. But in the end, we can’t be together.” My heart twisted painfully. I froze on the spot, numb. It wasn’t until my dad’s voice rang through the phone for the third time that I finally swallowed down my tears, turned, and walked away. “Dad, I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you… the arranged marriage with the Hayes family? I agree to it!” “Do you think I’m just a stand-in for you?” In the coffee shop, the woman across from me had a face that was eerily similar to mine, yet her smile was bold and utterly unconstrained. Her name was Briar, and she was the woman Julian’s friend had mentioned—his blind date, and they were about to get engaged. Half an hour ago, I had stumbled out of Julian’s house, only to be stopped by her downstairs. Now, compared to her calm demeanor, I felt completely lost. She smiled, gently setting her coffee cup on the table. “But if he truly loved you, why would he look for a stand-in, especially while you were still with him?” Undeniably, she had a point. But after eight years with Julian, I still couldn’t quite let go. As if she’d read my thoughts, she suddenly leaned forward, closer to me. “If you don’t believe me, let’s make a bet. We’ll bet on who’s more important to him. If he consistently chooses me, you’ll step aside, okay?” When Julian came home, I was cooking his favorite chicken porridge. For some reason, today’s porridge just didn’t taste the same, even though I followed the exact same steps. Julian put down his jacket and came over to hug me, pressing a kiss to my ear. “Your porridge always smells the best. I could smell it from down the street.” My fingers paused. I turned to look at him. “You really think it smells good?” His smile was soft. “When do I ever lie to you?” I silently turned back, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Before, I never doubted a single word he said to me. But today, I knew I had trusted him blindly. He had once told me he wanted to be with me forever, yet today, he told someone else that we couldn’t be together. So, what did our eight years even mean? I reached out and turned off the stove, then scraped the sticky, burnt porridge from the bottom of the pot to show him. “But it’s already burnt. Can’t you smell it?” He paused, then smiled, taking the spoon from my hand and scooping a full bowl. “It’s okay. As long as it’s made by you, Eleanor, even if it’s burnt, I still think it’s the best.” He held the bowl, a wide smile on his face, and walked towards the dining table. I watched his back, my eyes welling up. When I followed him out, he had already eaten several spoonfuls of porridge. He was clearly struggling to eat it, his brows furrowed with each spoonful, but when he looked up at me, he forced a happy, contented expression. He had been wearing a mask all this time. I was just too blind to see through it. “Don’t eat it.” I walked to the table and quietly tried to stop him. He acted like he hadn’t heard a word, instead scooping up another large mouthful, blowing on it to cool it, and putting it in his mouth. “I said, don’t eat it!” I raised my voice, but it was no use. A wave of pure fury washed over me. I reached out and knocked the entire bowl of porridge over. The hot porridge spilled onto my hand and the table. The bowl clattered to the floor, instantly shattering into pieces. Julian froze for two seconds, then immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom, rinsing it with cold water. Even so, my entire hand was crimson and angry, like a bad burn. Julian’s brows furrowed deeper, and he couldn’t help but scold me. “Seriously, Eleanor, it’s just a bowl of porridge, right? A little burnt. I would have been fine eating it. Was it really worth knocking it over? Didn’t you know it was hot?” 2 My tears started to flow freely. Burnt porridge tastes bitter. Just like our relationship, tainted with lies, all those ‘sincere feelings’ could no longer be trusted. Seeing me cry so hard, Julian fumbled nervously. “Don’t cry, I won’t yell at you anymore, okay?” “Alright, alright, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have ignored you and insisted on eating the burnt porridge.” “Please don’t cry, my darling.” He kept wiping away my tears, but the more he wiped, the more they came. Finally, he could only pull me into his arms, defeated. “My darling, what can I do to make you stop crying, hmm?” I opened my mouth. After a long moment, I managed to croak out one word. “It hurts.” He immediately let go of me, his lips pressed together, and went to grab his jacket. “We’re going to the hospital.” I leaned heavily against the wall, watching his hurried movements, and wanted to ask him: Uncle Julian, the pain in my hand can be treated by a doctor, but how do I heal the pain in my heart? I never asked it aloud. Just as we were about to leave, Julian’s phone suddenly rang. He glanced at me, then took his phone aside to answer. I vaguely caught the sound of a woman crying on the other end. When he returned, his face was etched with apology. “Eleanor, I have something really important that just came up. I need to take care of it. I’ll put some ointment on you first, and then I’ll take you to the hospital when I get back, okay?” I looked at him, and curved my lips into a sad smile. “Go ahead. Business is important. I can put on the ointment myself.” Julian hesitated for a moment, then pulled the back of my head, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Then I’ll be back as soon as I can. Wait for me.” I didn’t respond, just watched him leave, then quietly closed the door. Julian’s “as soon as I can” meant he didn’t come home all night. In the middle of the night, I developed a high fever, my body felt like it was on fire. Feeling terribly unwell, I instinctively reached for my phone to call Julian, but then I saw a message from my best friend, Harper. [Ellie, isn’t this that jerk Julian?] Attached was a photo of Julian accompanying someone at an IV drip. In the photo, Julian was wearing the matching coat I’d given him, holding a woman in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she was sleeping peacefully. The photo was a candid shot, but it was clear enough. I couldn’t mistake Julian. [Yeah, it’s him.] After replying, I no longer had the urge to call Julian. I put down my phone and, dragging my exhausted body, went to the fridge for ice to cool myself down. When I got back to bed, Harper’s messages blew up my phone. [Oh my god, this is definite proof he cheated! That scumbag Julian, after you waited eight years for him, this is how he repays you?] [I’m so furious, Ellie. I looked her up; it’s Briar Hayes, the Hayes family heiress. I heard she just got back from New York and her family forced her into blind dates. Did she just snag Julian?] [See? I told you Julian was unreliable. Eight years with you, always had some excuse not to make us official. Now he’s done playing games and ran back to marry some heiress.] [Ellie, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you okay? Do you want me to come over now and stay with you?] [Honey, don’t be sad. How about I get revenge for you? I’ll find someone to blast them all over social media tomorrow. No, I’ll do it now!] After a long moment of silence, I slowly typed a line on my phone. [Actually, I already know all of this. But Harper, I don’t care anymore. I’m going back to Newport to get married.] After sending the message, I remembered it was time to tell my company I was leaving. I never really liked my job in marketing, but because Julian had found it for me, I’d grudgingly stuck with it until now. I sent both my resignation and a leave request to my boss’s email, then lay back down, but sleep wouldn’t come. I stayed awake until dawn, then showered and went to the hospital alone. 3 Just as I walked through the hospital doors, my phone dinged with a message from Julian. [Sorry, sweetie, things got delayed and I’m just finishing up now. Miss me? I’ll be back soon, I’ll bring you your favorite crab buns, okay?] Before I could reply, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar figure in the parking lot. Through the unclosed car window, Julian was turned to the side, holding the back of a woman’s head, kissing her deeply. He really was busy! A wave of dizziness washed over me. I quickly grabbed onto the nearby building. After calming myself for a long time, I put my phone into my pocket, refusing to look at them again, and walked into the outpatient building. Julian’s call came just as the nurse called my name for the IV drip. There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then he asked, puzzled, “Are you at the hospital?” “Yeah.” I softly replied, watching the nurse insert the needle into my vein. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me to take you?” Hearing his question, I looked at the swaying IV bag and let out a self-deprecating laugh. During my consultation, the outpatient doctor said my fever had reached 107.6°F. If it continued, I could pass out, and if it lasted too long, I might even suffer brain damage. But Julian? He said he’d be back soon, but he went to be with someone else. However, I had no intention of exposing him. “You’re busy with important things. I can’t always rely on you for everything. People have to learn to grow up.” Julian’s breath hitched for a moment, then he said softly, “Eleanor, you can always rely on me. You don’t need to grow up.” His words echoed a scene from a rainy night when I was sixteen. Then, I was young, naive, and under immense pressure from college entrance exams. I had a huge fight with my dad over something trivial. I ran out of the house and hid by the closed mall entrance, with torrential rain pouring down outside. It was Julian who found me when I was cold and exhausted. He was only five years older than me. He carried me on his back, held an umbrella over me, comforting me and cheering me up. At that time, I only felt the warmth of his back. I sniffled and asked him, “Uncle Julian, why are you so good to me?” Julian paused, then smiled gently. “Isn’t Uncle good to you?” “It’s not that you’re not good, but my dad says if you get too used to someone being good to you, you’ll become dependent and never grow up.” Julian stopped in the rain, turning his head to look at me. “Eleanor, you can always rely on Uncle, you don’t need to grow up.” Those words, in sixteen-year-old Eleanor’s heart, dropped a pebble, creating ripples on the calm surface that hadn’t faded for ten years! But now, hearing those words again, my heart remained completely unmoved. I said, “Uncle Julian, people always have to learn to grow up.” Later, Julian still found his way to the hospital. He sat silently beside me. After a long time, he asked, “Eleanor, in these eight years, you never called me Uncle Julian. Are you… mad?” I didn’t answer his question. I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. He looked at me, sighed, and took off his trench coat, placing it over me. The lingering scent of his cologne instantly filled my nostrils, stinging my eyes with tears. Julian didn’t notice my unusual behavior. He was holding his phone, completely engrossed in it. As I secretly wiped away my tears, I saw his fingers flying across the screen, a smile occasionally gracing his lips. Looking back, he seemed to have been like this lately, inseparable from his phone, as if he had endless conversations with someone. I drifted off to sleep unconsciously. I don’t know how long passed until the kid in the next bed poked me awake. 4 As I groggily looked at him, confused, he pointed at my IV bottle. “Sister, your IV has been blood-backflowing for a while now. Your boyfriend has been on the phone this whole time. You should call the nurse yourself.” Only then did I notice that my IV bag was completely empty, and half of the IV tube was filled with my own blood. I didn’t know how long it had been like this. I pursed my lips, glanced through the glass at Julian, who was still on the phone outside the infusion room, and pressed the call button myself. The nurse came over, assessed the situation, took a new IV tube, removed the old one, and re-inserted the needle. Julian noticed what was happening and hurried over, hanging up his call. “Eleanor, I’m sorry, I…” “If you have something to do, just go ahead and do it.” Not wanting to hear his elaborate lies, I cut off his explanation first. Julian hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, “I’m sorry, Eleanor, company matters are truly urgent. You finish your IV alone, and I’ll come pick you up.” Watching his hurried retreating figure, I smiled. “I won’t wait for you anymore, Uncle Julian!” Back home, I cleared his fingerprints from the door lock one by one. Even the password, which used to be the day we first held hands, was changed to yesterday, the day my heart died. After doing all that, I collapsed onto the sofa, drained. When I woke up, there were several missed calls from unknown numbers on my phone. I ignored them and went downstairs for breakfast. After breakfast, the sleek black Cadillac Escalade was parked outside the villa. Caleb stepped out of the car, addressing my dad as ‘Mr. Rob’ with such genuine respect that my dad beamed, practically pushing me into the car. I couldn’t help but feel a little exasperated! Once inside the car, alone with Caleb again, that sense of awkwardness from yesterday had completely vanished. It was replaced by my deliberate coolness. However, my frosty mood completely melted away when Caleb handed me a stack of car buying guides. I flipped through the incredibly detailed guides, unable to suppress my surprise. “You made all of these?” “Yeah, it was a bit rushed, so I only picked out some of the latest models suitable for women right now.” He said, flipping through a few pages of the guide, pointing to a silver-grey SUV. “If you can’t make up your mind, you could consider this model. The driver’s space design is very suitable for women, and the material is quite sturdy. The smart system also has mostly practical functions.” He introduced several models in a row, speaking fluently and eloquently, giving off an impression of profound knowledge. After we picked out a car, Caleb checked his wristwatch and said, “How about we grab some lunch together? As a chance for me to apologize for being in a hurry yesterday.” Remembering my dad’s words, I didn’t refuse. On the way back, Caleb suggested I drive my new car for a spin. I was a little nervous. “Oh, maybe not. Even though I got my license a long time ago, this will be my first time on the road.” Caleb, without a word, opened the passenger door and got in. “The less you’ve driven, the more important it is to start driving. Don’t worry, get in. I’m here for anything.” Seeing his calm demeanor, I gritted my teeth and got into the driver’s seat. He guided me to a quiet road nearby. He didn’t laugh at me for driving at a snail’s pace, instead, he kept encouraging and praising me, providing immense emotional support. In the end, I genuinely felt much more confident and safely drove the car home. When I was hesitant about parallel parking, he taught me how to use the smart parking feature. After that day, he started taking me out to practice driving every day. Three days flew by, and my relationship with Caleb had become much more harmonious. Both families chose a suitable day to meet, and the wedding date was quickly confirmed. That night, Harper’s call came in. I answered, and her urgent voice floated from the other end. “Eleanor, Julian got back and couldn’t reach you. He’s gone crazy, insisting on having someone break into your house! What should I do?” I remained silent for a moment, then replied, “Let him in, Harper.” I had thought that seeing the empty house, Julian would understand that I had left and let go.

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While performing surgery, Brandon, my fiancée Jasmine’s idol, was FaceTiming with her, flirting, when his scalpel slipped. The patient ended up paralyzed for life, a vegetable. Afterward, he pushed me toward the patient’s furious family, who were on the verge of breakdown, claiming *I* was the lead surgeon. I begged Jasmine to testify for me, but she simply said she’d already secretly married Brandon and didn’t want to make her husband jealous. She turned, shielding Brandon, and they left together. I was slashed dozens of times, my tendons severed, and the ring and pinky fingers of both hands were crushed to a pulp. In despair, my old friend Serena appeared with her bodyguards. Crying, she cradled my mangled hands. She dispatched a private jet, brought in dozens of experts from all over the world, and pleaded with them to save me. Two years later, I overheard her conversation with her assistant, Mark: “Serena, because of Brandon’s mistake, the patient died on the operating table. The family is flying back from overseas, and I don’t think they’ll let him off the hook.” “Are we going to push the blame onto Chase again, like last time? This is the second time he’s taken the fall for Brandon. What if someone really dies this time?” Serena scoffed, a sneer on her lips: “He was riddled with stab wounds and both his hands were ruined before, and he was fine, wasn’t he? If he can take the hit once, he can do it twice. As long as I’m taking care of him, it doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t die.” “Brandon is preparing for the ‘Golden Scalpel Competition.’ Becoming a protégé of Dr. Evelyn Reed is his dream, and I won’t allow any danger or obstacles to come near him!”

Mark looked distressed: “But that competition slot originally belonged to Chase. He was once the best surgeon in the country, and becoming a protégé of Dr. Reed was *his* dream too. Yet you intentionally had his hands ruined to disqualify him.” “Chase worked for ten years to get that slot. Is this really fair to him?” “What’s unfair about it? His hands are already useless. He’s just a disabled man, he can’t compete anyway.” Mark still hesitated: “But you spent thirty million dollars to get Brandon in as a substitute, and then another two hundred million to bribe the organizers to leak the competition questions. If word gets out that you helped him cheat, your reputation and the company’s stock could suffer immeasurable losses.” Serena looked impatient: “Enough! From the moment I met Brandon, I was ready to give him everything. Since I couldn’t make him choose me, I’ll do everything I can to support his dreams. As long as Brandon is happy, what are a little reputation and stock prices compared to that?” “Brandon *must* win the competition. Only then can he become Dr. Reed’s protégé. As for Chase… let him be ruined. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to him.” Outside the door, I trembled, recording everything on my phone. I stumbled downstairs. So, the patient’s father who stabbed me that year, severed my tendons, and crushed four of my fingers – he was acting on Serena’s orders! She saved me, married me, not out of love, but to keep a scapegoat for her beloved man, ready to be sacrificed at any moment. I survived, but both my hands were useless, and four fingers had to be amputated. Now I even struggle to hold forks, let alone pick up a scalpel again. But I never imagined that behind all this was the meticulous planning of my own wife. Just thinking that while I lay in a pool of blood, my dreams shattered and my heart filled with despair, she might have been hiding in a corner, watching with satisfaction, sent shivers down my spine. The scars on my wrists throbbed faintly, shaking violently. My cup dropped to the floor, the noise drawing Serena’s attention. She pulled me into a hug, preventing me from stepping on the glass shards, and said with concern: “Chase, I’ve told you so many times, in this house, *I’m* your hands. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you.” “If not me, then Maria. Your hands aren’t fully healed, what if you hurt them worse? Do you want to break my heart?” I instinctively reached for the gloves on the bar. Serena stopped me, gently taking my mutilated, ugly hands and kissing the scars where my fingers had been amputated. “Chase, you never need to feel self-conscious around me, and you certainly don’t need to wear gloves to hide yourself. Because I love you, I love everything about you.” “I only regret that I arrived too late. Otherwise, your hands wouldn’t be like this, and you wouldn’t have lost your dream of being a doctor. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” Her tone and eyes were so gentle, but her words filled my heart with endless sorrow. What I thought was deep affection and salvation was nothing but her disguise. I forced a smile: “Don’t say that, you’ve done your best.” “You’ve had a tough day at work. Why don’t you go back to the bedroom? I’ll ask Maria to warm you a glass of milk.” I secretly put two sleeping pills in her milk. After Serena fell asleep, I went to the villa’s garage. I meant to check the dash cam, but accidentally hit a button in the corner. The floor tiles slid open to reveal a staircase leading down, and below was a secret room. The room had an electronic lock, and on the small screen, a heart-shaped sticker with Brandon and Serena’s smiling faces. As expected, the password was Brandon’s birthday. Inside, the scene that greeted me pierced my heart like a blade. Serena had turned the secret room into a private cinema. The best display screen on the market was playing a video of Brandon practicing vascular suturing on a white mouse during college. Brandon’s pores were clearly visible, as if I could reach out and touch him. Because his hands weren’t steady enough, the needle had directly pierced the white mouse’s heart, killing it instantly. Despite such clumsy technique and awkward movements, Serena had added heart stickers to the video, with the caption: “October 3, 2018, Sunny. My dearest Brandon, future medical star, you look so handsome when you’re focused.”

I once wanted to record our daily life after marriage, to keep as a memory for when we grew old. But Serena had said that true memories only needed to be kept in the heart, there was no need to waste time on meaningless things like that. Yet she had recorded so many videos of Brandon’s daily life and work. There were over a thousand videos in the playlist, more than the number of days we’d been married, each one accompanied by her heartfelt confessions. In the secret room, there were also a dozen small wooden shelves, holding hundreds of bottles of men’s hand essential oil. When I was a doctor, I’d seen the same kind on Brandon’s hands. Curiously, I’d asked him where he bought them. Brandon had laughed scornfully: “Chase, don’t bother. You can’t buy them, and you can’t afford them. Someone who loves me had an international master specifically blend this for me. The ingredients are expensive and rare, the best for nourishing skin. Each bottle costs hundreds of thousands.” That person, it turned out, was Serena. Three years of marriage, and I had never received such favoritism. And what hurt me the most was a comic poster titled ‘Brandon’s Dream.’ A cartoon Brandon fought his way through challenges, winning the ‘Golden Scalpel Competition’ and becoming a protégé of the world-renowned medical icon. Beside it, in Serena’s handwriting: “Brandon, I will definitely put you on top.” And on this path to the top, I saw an image of myself, covered in blood, fingers crushed to pulp, lying in a pool of my own blood. My face was marked with a vivid red ‘X’, and a note: ‘Brandon’s Obstacle, solved.’ Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I booked a plane ticket for three days later. Serena, since I’m such an eyesore to you, I’ll leave for good. As for your Brandon, he’s enjoyed himself on my pain and blood for long enough. It’s time for it to end. I returned to the villa and drafted a divorce agreement on my phone, leaving with nothing. There were plenty of templates online. Sitting on the couch, I stared blankly at my mutilated hands, sleepless through the night. The next morning, Serena thought I had simply woken up early and suspected nothing. She took out a thumb-sized tube of hand cream and carefully massaged it onto my hands. “Chase, this is a new product developed by some international master. It can moisturize skin and promote healing. It’s incredibly hard to buy, I only managed to get one tube, and it’s perfect for you.” Looking at the hand cream, I gave a sardonic smile. This was a free sample from those hand essential oils she bought for Brandon, whole boxes of which were piled in the corner of the secret room, covered in dust. Before I could bring up divorce, Serena quickly dressed and left. “Chase, things are a bit chaotic outside lately, so stay home and don’t wander off.” As soon as she walked out the front door, I opened my phone. The recording device I’d secretly placed in her car played Serena’s and Mark’s voices. “Serena, the deceased patient’s family seems to have contacted the media. They want justice for their loved one. I’ve already told the hospital to keep quiet, but public opinion is growing, and it might trace back to Brandon.” “Then what are you waiting for? Leak Chase’s photos and home address to the media. Tell them he did it.” “But Chase…” “Don’t talk nonsense. He’ll just stay quietly at home. Send two bodyguards to guard the outside. What could happen? The main thing is that Brandon absolutely cannot be affected.” For Brandon, she calmly pushed me into the eye of the storm. Truly, her devotion ran deep. Not long after Serena left, the media and influencers, having received the tip-off, swarmed our house. The two bodyguards, of course, were nowhere to be seen. They violently smashed the door, shouting: “Chase, you murderer, you heartless doctor! You killed someone and you dare to hide at home, enjoying yourself? We’re here to deliver justice! Come out!” The window glass shattered from thrown rocks, and rotten eggs splattered on my head, emitting a foul stench.

Seeing that the front door was about to be broken down, Maria, the housekeeper, couldn’t bear it. She urged me to change into her clothes and hat and slip out through the back door. I hadn’t run far when a few influencers spotted me. “There’s that scumbag! He’s trying to escape? Quick, grab him! Our live stream is going to go viral!” The trauma of being caught and tortured by the patient’s family years ago resurfaced, and I ran for my life in terror. In a panic, I FaceTimed Serena for help. As soon as she picked up, she said: “Chase, I’m in a meeting. Can we talk later, please?” Before I could speak, Serena seemed to have accidentally opened her camera. On the screen, Brandon had his arm around her shoulder. They were leisurely and sweetly shopping at a mall. Brandon playfully pointed at a high-end luxury brand store in front of them: “Serena, I love all their wallets and watches, but they’re so expensive. What should I do?” Serena looked at him adoringly, her voice full of pampering affection: “Then I’ll buy them all for you, Brandon. Consider it a good luck charm for your competition tomorrow.” “Oh, stop it, you’re going to spoil me too much! How about… you let me try on that diamond-encrusted one first, okay?” “As long as Brandon is happy, I’ll do anything.” The sales associate nearby looked envious: “Madam truly spoils her husband! They say love makes a man handsome, no wonder your husband is so charming. You two are such a perfect match, truly enviable.” “If my partner spoiled me even half as much, I’d die happy.” Serena smiled but said nothing, not denying it. Instead, she seemed quite pleased that the sales associate referred to Brandon as her husband and immediately gave the employee a ten-thousand-dollar tip. Brandon playfully rolled his eyes at her: “Such a spendthrift.” My steps froze instantly. The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat, unable to go up or down, leaving only a suffocating pain. Brandon noticed me on the screen and greeted me with forced enthusiasm: “Isn’t that Chase? Oh dear, Serena is so bad, she was so busy buying me jewelry, she forgot she was on a video call with you. You’re so generous, you won’t be mad, right?” He introduced me to the puzzled sales associate: “This is my best… well, *my* best guy. He’s not just generous, he’s also very special.” “Most of us have ten fingers, but he only has six, isn’t that unique? If he were here today, you probably wouldn’t earn so much commission, since he doesn’t have that many fingers to pick out things.” “Chase, you really know how to live frugally, you’re so economical.” It was then that Serena realized she had accidentally pressed the wrong button. She explained, looking embarrassed: “Chase, don’t misunderstand. Brandon has a competition tomorrow, and as a friend, I just wanted to get him a gift and cheer him on…” She was so flustered she didn’t even realize I wasn’t home. “Right, of course. You two enjoy your shopping, I’ll hang up now.” “Chase, I really didn’t mean to lie to you! I just… I’ll come home right away and go to the doghouse and beg for forgiveness, okay? Please don’t be mad.” Serena looked genuinely scared, as if she really would come back. I played along with her act, smiling: “I understand. You were just worried I’d get jealous. I get it. Anyway, I can’t talk, my phone’s almost dead. See you tonight.” I hung up, my heart cold. Seeing the influencers getting closer, I ducked into an alley, gritting my teeth through the pain in my hand, I strained to push aside a manhole cover and jumped down. I endured the nauseating stench and the bone-chilling cold, clamping my hand over my mouth to stifle any sound. They still couldn’t find me, even by late night. They passed the manhole several times, wanting to jump down and look, but the putrid smell of the sewage deterred them. They cursed and eventually left. It was already early the next morning when I finally managed to crawl out, my fingernails torn back, raw and bloody. Trembling, I arrived home to find the house trashed. Seeing my condition, Maria gasped and quickly went to draw a bath for me. It was then I learned that Serena hadn’t come home all night. By evening, Serena still hadn’t returned. Local news, however, was broadcasting Brandon’s smooth victory in the ‘Golden Scalpel Competition.’ It also reported that the CEO of Lynch Industries, to win a handsome man’s smile, had spent three hundred million dollars to purchase the world’s only sapphire watch. She had also booked the most luxurious hotel in A-City for Brandon’s celebratory banquet. Brandon was now highly sought after. He just needed to wait until tomorrow, when Dr. Evelyn Reed, the world-renowned medical icon, would appear at the awards ceremony to announce him as her sole protégé.

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I got an emergency call, but the dorm supervisor, Mrs. Hayes, blocked my way, refusing me entry. “You’re a man, trying to get into the girls’ dorm? Dream on!” I was frantic. “In front of medical personnel, there’s no distinction between men and women.” I desperately ran upstairs and finally saved the girl. But she decided to scam me. “It’s all this unscrupulous doctor’s fault for not treating me in time, leaving me with side effects.” “And when he was saving me, his hands weren’t honest. He touched me.” Throughout the entire New Year’s period, my family and I were subjected to online bullying because of this. Unable to bear the pressure, I leaped from the building. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Mrs. Hayes, the dorm supervisor. This time, I wasn’t in a hurry. After all, the person lying upstairs was Mrs. Hayes’ daughter! “I said no means no. How can a man go up there?” Mrs. Hayes stood with her hands on her hips, inside the door, refusing to open it. “Men are nothing but primal instincts. Letting you into the girls’ dorm is like a wolf in a hen house!” I looked at Mrs. Hayes, masking my inner regret and surprise. “Dr. Turner, please, we need to think of something. The patient is suffering from respiratory alkalosis,” Brittany, the nurse behind me, urged anxiously. I snapped back to reality. “They won’t let us in, so what can we do?” Brittany looked at me, her expression utterly surprised. I knew why she was surprised; it was completely unlike my usual demeanor. In my previous life, I would have joined others to kick that door down and rushed in to save the person. I’d rescued the patient from the clutches of death, but then I was scammed and ended up in a tragic state. Now that I was back, I intended to avoid that ending. However, remembering that family’s nature, I whispered to Brittany, “Get your phone out, film discreetly.” Seeing her activate the camera, I stepped forward to negotiate. “If we miss the optimal window for rescue, this girl could very well suffer permanent side effects.” Mrs. Hayes looked at me with contempt. “You can talk ’til you’re blue in the face, but I’m not letting you into the girls’ dorm!” She scanned us, spitting as she pointed at me. “You don’t look like a good person! Shifty-eyed like that, are you even really medical personnel?” I scoffed internally, but maintained an anxious expression. “If we miss the window to save her, are you really ready to take responsibility for that?” She said triumphantly, “Well, that’s according to school regulations. Whatever happens to her, it’s on her.” Brittany, standing behind me, couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out, “You’re just a glorified doorman! Not letting us up there is practically murder!” Mrs. Hayes wouldn’t tolerate her authority being challenged. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you his little side piece, then, so eager?” “And you look down on me? You’re nothing but a glorified servant yourself.” Our nurses were new recruits, no match for Mrs. Hayes. At her words, Brittany’s eyes welled up. I stepped in front of Brittany. “What ‘side piece’? Don’t project your own dirty mind onto others. Just let us in! A student upstairs needs saving!” Mrs. Hayes’ face flushed crimson, and she started spewing venom. “I’m not letting you up! Do you want to save a student, or just ogle the girls? You’re shameless!” I raised my hands to calm her. “Don’t get agitated, just calm down.” Brittany whispered to me, “Dr. Turner, time is running out.” I sighed, putting on a conciliatory look. “What will it take for you to let us in?” Mrs. Hayes puffed out her chest, cracking sunflower seeds. “You can call the principal. If he agrees, then I’ll let you.” I tried to reason. “Then give us the principal’s number.” She just stopped talking. Brittany and I started calling everyone we knew, and finally found the number. “Dr. Turner, it’s not going through.” Mrs. Hayes said triumphantly, “Can’t reach him, huh? There’s one more way.” I didn’t speak. Brittany urged, “Just tell us!” She pointed at me. “Make this man kneel and beg me.” “Didn’t you say you wanted to save someone? Kneeling for me to save a life is nothing, is it?” Mrs. Hayes took out another handful of sunflower seeds and started cracking them. I said in a low voice, “A young life on the line, up there.” Brittany fumed, “You just wait, I’m going to report you!” I felt a secret thrill; what a perfect assist. Mrs. Hayes was the type who’d explode at the mention of a complaint, like throwing gasoline on a fire. Sure enough, Mrs. Hayes threw the sunflower seed shells directly in our faces. “I don’t need *him* to kneel. *You* kneel for me, and then I’ll let you up.” Brittany’s face turned beet red with anger. “You’re a disgusting lowlife!” Mrs. Hayes stomped her foot, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Aren’t you all ‘white-clad angels’? Well, someone’s waiting to be saved. Why aren’t you saving them, then, you poser?” Brittany looked at me helplessly. I subtly shook my head. Mrs. Hayes sneered, “I think all this talk of saving lives is fake. You just want to show off in front of this guy, don’t you?” I was about to say something when a frantic voice interrupted me. A student came sprinting down, breathless, and threw herself in front of Mrs. Hayes. “Auntie, she’s really not doing well!” Mrs. Hayes shrugged her off. “Even so, we have to follow regulations.”

The student stamped her foot in frustration. “Auntie, the one who’s sick is…” Mrs. Hayes maintained her officious demeanor. “Even if it were my own parents who were sick, we’d still have to follow regulations.” The student looked at me with pleading eyes, then rushed to the door. “Doctor, please come in quickly! My roommate is really bad. I’ll open the door for you!” With that, she lunged at the door to open it. Mrs. Hayes yanked her back, then pushed her away. The small girl’s body flew back like a rag doll, landing on the ground. We all gasped. “My arm hurts so much,” the girl cried out, her face contorted in pain. “So you just fall apart when a guy’s around, huh? You’d even open the door for him, you’re shameless!” Seeing the pain on the student’s face, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. The girl struggled to her feet, leaning on the wall. “Auntie, the one waiting for rescue upstairs is Chl…” Before she could finish, Mrs. Hayes cut her off again. “Get back upstairs, or I’ll give you a major disciplinary action!” I couldn’t watch anymore. I snapped at her directly, “You’re just a dorm supervisor. What kind of disciplinary action? What authority do you even have?” Hearing me say that, the student gathered her courage. “Exactly! I’m going to tell my parents how you pushed me! And the one waiting for rescue upstairs is Chloe Hayes!” Mrs. Hayes’ face flushed red with anger at the mention of parents. But when she heard it was Chloe Hayes who needed rescue, her face instantly went pale. “What? My daughter is sick? You ungrateful brat, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Now, she didn’t waste any more words. She flung the door open, glaring at me menacingly. “You’re going into the girls’ dorm, so keep your eyes to yourself. Don’t go looking around, or I’ll call the police!” “If my daughter doesn’t make it, I’ll never forgive you!” There was no elevator in the dorm building, so we had to climb the stairs. Mrs. Hayes trailed right on my heels, muttering endlessly. “Can’t you move any faster?” “You’re a man, and you’re running so slowly? Are you even a man?” I scoffed. “If you hadn’t blocked us, we would have started the rescue long ago. You’re primarily responsible for this.” “If you really wanted to save my daughter, you would have knelt for me already. You’re not genuinely trying to save her, and you still have the nerve to call yourselves doctors and nurses.” The dorm was on the seventh floor. I was already out of breath and had no energy to deal with someone like her. Good thing every word she said had been recorded. This time, I’d like to see how she tries to manipulate public opinion and bully me online! The dorm room door was wide open. I quietly reminded Brittany, “Keep the camera rolling.” The girl lying on the ground was still conscious. Hearing our voices, she weakly opened her eyes and looked at me. “Why is it a male doctor? I want a female doctor.” Brittany tried to persuade her. “Young lady, your condition is very serious right now.” I said in a low voice, “In our eyes as doctors, there are only patients, not men or women.” “But I don’t even have a boyfriend yet! How can a male doctor touch me?” Mrs. Hayes said anxiously, “Oh, daughter, please stop talking!” She shoved me. “What are you standing around for? Save her!” Even though I knew what this mother and daughter were like, I was a doctor. I couldn’t stand by and let a patient die. After a quick examination, I turned to Brittany. “Alright, let’s get her onto the ambulance.” Mrs. Hayes followed right on my heels. “Is my daughter alright? You just saved her, why do we need to go to the hospital? You’re not trying to scam us, are you?!” I stopped. “She’s out of immediate danger, but she needs further observation.” She muttered under her breath, “I know you people, you just want us to spend more money.” At the hospital, after further checks, Chloe Hayes was confirmed to be fine by noon. Brittany sighed in relief. “It was a hassle, but thankfully we saved her.” Mrs. Hayes wasn’t happy. “My daughter was fine anyway! You just had to drag her to the hospital to make me spend more money!” “I want to check out!” I subtly signaled Brittany to keep recording. Only after she nodded did I speak. “Keeping the patient hospitalized is to ensure she’s completely out of danger. If you want to check out now, you’ll need to sign a waiver.” Hearing this, Mrs. Hayes instantly refused. “A waiver? I’m not signing that!” I stated professionally, “Then she’ll need to stay for another week of observation.”

Mrs. Hayes immediately threw herself on the ground and wailed loudly, “This hospital is bullying people!” Soon, a crowd gathered. Seeing people arrive, Mrs. Hayes ratcheted up the drama! “This hospital is trying to extort money! My daughter wants to leave, but they won’t let her!” Was I going to let her twist the truth? I looked around and said loudly, “According to regulations, she needs to stay for a full week. This is for the patient’s own good.” Mrs. Hayes shot up, lowered her head, and bumped into me. “Bullshit rules! You just want to make money!” I let her bump me, not lifting a finger. “You can check out, just sign the waiver.” The people around us chimed in. “Yeah, you have to follow the rules! If you don’t sign the waiver and something happens, who’s responsible?” I held up the waiver in front of Mrs. Hayes, saying each word clearly. “Ma’am, aren’t you the one who cares most about regulations? Sign it.” Mrs. Hayes glared at me, gritting her teeth. She snatched it, tore it to shreds in a flash, and flung the pieces into the air. “I’m not signing!” The crowd dispersed after we left. Brittany sent me the video, then asked worriedly, “Dr. Turner, do you think that lady will pull another stunt?” I scoffed, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. “Just wait.” Sure enough, the next day, Brittany rushed to find me. “Dr. Turner, that dorm supervisor and her daughter skipped out!” Nothing those two did surprised me anymore. “Were the fees settled?” Brittany checked and said indignantly, “They still owe $500.” I directly transferred $500. “I’ll cover it for them.” After Brittany completed the transaction, she said sincerely, “Dr. Turner, you’re too kind.” I just smiled faintly, saying nothing. It wasn’t out of naive generosity. That $500, along with those videos, would all be used to help me later! I waited a few days, and those two hadn’t shown their faces yet. I thought my evidence might go to waste. Just as I was thinking this, Brittany ran in, panting. “Dr. Turner, you need to come out! That dorm supervisor is making a scene!” I dropped the medical chart and ran out. The entrance hall was packed with people. Mrs. Hayes’ voice could carry for blocks away. “My daughter was treated by this quack doctor, and now she has side effects!” “Look at my daughter! She used to be so vibrant, and now she’s so gaunt!” People around us started murmuring, pulling out their phones to record. “Get security to maintain order,” I said, then squeezed through the crowd. “Everyone, please make way.” As soon as Mrs. Hayes saw me, she charged. One hand grabbed my collar, the other swung at my face, knocking my glasses off. “Quack! After coming home, my daughter developed side effects!” The crowd angrily said, “What kind of doctor is this?!” I struggled free. “Let’s talk this out. If you lay another hand on me, I’ll call the police!” Mrs. Hayes became even more agitated. “Everyone, look at this unscrupulous doctor’s true colors! My daughter is drowsy every day now!” She cried as she spoke. “My daughter is still in college. What’s going to happen to her now?” Chloe Hayes stood silently beside her, quietly sobbing.

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During our holiday visit to my parents’ remote country house, my son, Leo, got a little too carried away with some firecrackers. He tossed one into an old, unused septic tank access, and the resulting explosion somehow managed to damage five luxury cars parked nearby. When I told him he needed to apologize to the owners, he just rolled his eyes, utterly annoyed. “I wish Uncle Julian was my dad! He’s so cool, he’d never make me apologize!” “Uncle Julian” was, of course, my wife Eleanor’s first love, the one who got away. When I called her, Eleanor was at a family gathering with Julian Thorne. Hearing about Leo’s antics, she scoffed. “Marcus Stone, it’s just a few scratched up cars, a few thousand bucks. Is it really that big of a deal? It’s just because you’re broke and useless. Julian said he could handle it, no problem!” I looked at the five million-dollar luxury cars, their fronts utterly mangled, and let out a cold laugh. “Well, then you’d better tell him to come handle it!”

The moment I hung up, Leo puffed out his chest, completely full of himself. “See? We still have to rely on Uncle Julian! If you were as capable as Mom says, none of this would be such a big fuss!” Watching his arrogant, oblivious face, I almost wished I’d never had a son! But then I saw his features, so similar to mine, and a wave of sadness washed over me. When Leo was little, he used to be so sweet and obedient. Our family wasn’t like this back then. Everything changed three years ago, when Eleanor’s first love, Julian Thorne, came back into her life. It was like Eleanor transformed into a completely different person. She started leaving early and coming home late. Every conversation, no matter the topic, somehow circled back to Julian Thorne. And her disdain for me grew by the day. “You’ve been working so hard for years, and you’re still just a manager at your company. Look at Julian Thorne! He started his own business and now he’s a huge CEO!” “I hear he has connections in high places, too. He knows all the important people in the city, can get a word in with anyone. Who are you to compare? No talent, no connections!” I remained silent, never telling Eleanor that it was *because* I chose to be with her, refusing an arranged marriage for a family alliance, that I was relegated to a department manager role. I also never told her that her supposedly brilliant “first love” was mostly hot air, his biggest talent a silver tongue and a knack for exaggeration. But even if I had, she would have just thought I was jealous. Driven by her growing contempt for me, she started taking Leo along to spend more and more time with Julian. Before long, Leo was calling Julian “Uncle Julian” every five minutes, his voice overflowing with a closeness he never showed me. Seeing him about to throw more firecrackers into the septic tank, I reached out, grabbed him, and held him tight. Leo struggled, screaming. “Let go of me! These are new clothes Uncle Julian bought me! If you get them dirty, can you even afford new ones?” Watching him act like that, even the unlucky car owners couldn’t help but shoot me sympathetic glances. I wanted to tell them that Leo used to be a good kid. When he was in second grade, I was working long hours. Every night, no matter how late I got home, I’d find him sitting on a small stool, waiting for me. He’d clutch a small snack from school, worried I’d be hungry. But that picture of a loving father and son shattered with Julian Thorne’s reappearance. Parents are a child’s first teachers. Under Eleanor’s influence, Leo started looking down on me, his own father, and idolizing Julian Thorne instead. Over time, I found myself losing control of him. He loved sweets. I worried about cavities, so I limited his candy intake daily. But he’d just turn around, proudly showing off the ice cream lollipops Julian Thorne bought him. “You won’t buy them for me, but plenty of other people will!” Eventually, he did get cavities, crying in pain all the way to the emergency room. I wanted to use it as a chance to teach him a lesson, but Eleanor beat me to it, immediately putting all the blame on me. “How do you even take care of our son at home? If you’d just made sure he brushed his teeth more often, his cavities wouldn’t be this bad!” Leo, seeing his mother’s reaction, had an excuse. He cried and whined that I, his dad, was always too strict with him. He didn’t know that spoiling a child only harms them in the long run. My strictness was for his own good. Julian Thorne’s endless indulgence and pampering were easy for him – Leo wasn’t his biological son. Of course, he’d be willing to offer a few cheap favors to win affection. As for the consequences of that indulgence? Julian, as the “uncle,” wouldn’t have to bear them. Under Julian’s deliberate spoiling, Leo’s temper became increasingly willful. Whenever I tried to discipline him, he’d treat me like an enemy.

Before long, Leo became the neighborhood terror, a bratty kid everyone detested. Neighbors and teachers were constantly knocking on our door. Just like today: Eleanor took him out to Julian Thorne’s house, then, annoyed that Leo was interrupting their date, she bought him some firecrackers and just let him play by himself. Leo, used to getting away with anything, ignored the warning signs and threw a lit firecracker into the septic tank access! It immediately blew up, damaging five luxury cars parked nearby. I scanned the damaged vehicles: a Mercedes-Benz GLE, a Volvo XC90, a Porsche, a Range Rover, and a BMW i7. Together, they amounted to several million dollars. Yet, Leo and Eleanor remained completely unconcerned, acting like it was nothing. Did they really think Julian Thorne could just make this problem disappear? Even if he sold his entire small company, he wouldn’t be able to scrounge up that much money! As I was trying to figure out how to deal with this, my phone rang. It was Eleanor. “We’re here. Where are you? It’s just a small thing, a few thousand dollars, and you’re making Julian come all this way? Marcus Stone, can’t you ever be useful?” When I arrived at the restaurant Eleanor had mentioned, with Leo in tow, she was adjusting Julian Thorne’s tie. They were laughing and chatting, incredibly intimate. Seeing the ring on Eleanor’s finger, a sharp pang went through my heart. She thought I didn’t know, but I was acutely aware that she hadn’t forgotten her past with Julian Thorne. I knew that in the bottom drawer of her desk, there was an old photo album, and tucked inside it was a picture of her and Julian. In the photo, they were embracing, watching New Year’s Eve fireworks. On her finger, she wore the very same couple’s ring she had on now. I should have known then, the moment I discovered Eleanor had taken off her wedding ring and put on that couple’s ring with Julian Thorne. When Eleanor and I first met, Julian had just broken up with her and moved abroad. Heartbroken, she was listless all day, often making small mistakes at work. One time, when her boss was scolding her, I couldn’t help but step in and defend her. The following Monday, she brought me homemade cookies to thank me. That’s how our story began. I gradually fell for this warm, reserved woman. After learning about her past relationship, I felt even more tenderly towards her. Not long after, she confessed her feelings to me. Looking into her sincere eyes, I went home and resolutely refused the arranged marriage my family had planned, getting into a huge argument with my parents. I knew how deeply she had loved Julian Thorne in the past, so before we made things official, I specifically asked her. “Have you moved on from Julian Thorne?” She paused for a moment, then looked into the distance and quietly said, “He and I are over. He won’t be coming back to the country.” At the time, I only remembered the first half of her sentence, never realizing that Eleanor’s focus was on the latter half. She was with me only because Julian Thorne wasn’t coming back. So, when Julian Thorne reappeared, she returned to his side without hesitation. As I stared blankly at that ring, Leo had already rushed over. “Uncle Julian, I’ve been waiting for you!” Julian Thorne quickly crouched down and picked him up, a big smile on his face. “I just took my eyes off you for a second, and you’re already up to mischief!” Despite his words, there wasn’t a hint of blame in his tone, only pure indulgence. Eleanor chuckled and playfully scolded him, a helpless expression on her face. “You just spoil him rotten!” The three of them looked like the happiest family, a perfect picture of father, mother, and son, making me feel like an out-of-place outsider.

Julian Thorne played with Leo for a while, then suddenly seemed to notice my presence, feigning surprise. “Marcus is here too? Why are you standing there for so long? Come on in and sit down!” Eleanor’s smile faded. She cast a sidelong glance at me, her tone flat. “Always so timid and awkward, he just can’t measure up!” In her mind, I was always a step below Julian Thorne. Leo finally remembered I was there and immediately started complaining to Julian Thorne. “He got your new clothes dirty! Look! And he’s making me apologize to those people!” Julian Thorne, ever the big shot, pulled a wad of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket. “Just a shirt, it’s fine if it’s dirty. Your mom and I will take you to the mall to buy new ones later.” He tucked the cash into Leo’s pocket, then turned to me, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “Marcus, you’re his father. Why aren’t you sticking up for your own son? Why are you making him apologize to strangers?” I watched him put on this phony act, wanting to laugh. For the past few years, he’d been a master of manipulation, subtly and overtly belittling me in front of Eleanor and Leo, regardless of right or wrong. And those two, mother and son, fell for it every time! Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, Eleanor frowned and looked at me, annoyed. “It’s just a few damaged cars, how much could it cost? Leo is so young, and you’re making him take responsibility! How did I end up marrying someone so incompetent and useless!” I almost burst out laughing. Shouldn’t he take responsibility for the cars *he* damaged? I was just asking Leo to apologize to the car owners, and already, mother and son were treating me like an enemy. Julian Thorne sighed dramatically, putting on a magnanimous facade as he tried to console Eleanor. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of it. It’s just a bit of money, I won’t let you or the child suffer.” At his words, Eleanor’s gaze softened, fixed on him. I stood to the side, watching their little display of affection, my stomach churning. “You’ll handle it?” I said blandly. “Don’t speak too soon, I’m afraid you might not be able to cover it!” At this, Julian Thorne didn’t say anything, but Eleanor immediately flared up. She slammed her hand on the table, glaring at me. “Marcus Stone, do you think Julian is like you? Pinching pennies over a few thousand dollars? I’m telling you, this little thing will barely take him a few minutes to resolve!” “Yeah, that’s right!” Leo chimed in, eager to stir up trouble. “Uncle Julian is super cool, not like you! I want Uncle Julian to be my dad, not you!” My face darkened at his words. I looked at Leo, my voice dangerously low. “Say that again.” Eleanor couldn’t help but frown. She quietly called Leo by his full name, but ultimately couldn’t bring herself to scold him. Instead, she turned to me. “Why are you yelling at the child? If you weren’t so useless, he wouldn’t say such things!” Watching her fiercely defend him, the last string holding me together finally snapped. She no longer had any feelings for me, so why should I cling to her? Julian Thorne shot me a triumphant look, then pretended to gently console Eleanor. “Oh, Eleanor, don’t say that. If you think Marcus’s position is too low, he can come work for me. I just happen to need an assistant.” Eleanor frowned, sighing. “If only he were half as thoughtful as you. On a holiday, having dinner with your family, and he has to come deal with something like this!”

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Two years into my secret marriage, my ex-boyfriend Brandon Chase finally remembered me. He slapped a black card and a set of apartment keys onto the table, his voice dripping with condescension: “Seraphina, I know you’re still waiting for me. Partnering with Tiffany will cut ten years off my struggle to build my company. You can be my mistress for now, and once the company goes public, I’ll divorce her…” “Now that my career is stable, I immediately came looking for you.” I looked at him, saying nothing. He sighed. “I know you resent me, but Tiffany’s family is incredibly influential, and you’re just a regular assistant. If I left her for you, she’d be a laughingstock in her social circle.” “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting two years. This card has five million dollars, consider it compensation. Move in tonight, okay?” Seeing that smug, ‘I’ve got this’ look on his face, I simply raised my hand. “Security, please escort him out.” Honestly, it was laughable. I’d just won an international design gold award, and my husband had just granted me two weeks off. I never expected to run into trash like this. **Chapter 1** Brandon Chase was dragged out by two burly security guards, one on each arm, still yelling in utter disbelief. “Seraphina Hayes! How *dare* you do this to me? You’ll regret it! Who else would ever want you?!” The coffee shop instantly fell silent, all eyes subtly drifting my way. I picked up the coffee in front of me, long gone cold, took a slow sip, then expressionlessly picked up the black card and the obnoxious keys from the table. I walked over to the cleaning lady, Maria, who was tidying up plates in the corner. I slipped the black card and keys into her hand. “Maria.” She stared at me blankly, then at the items in her hand, looking utterly confused. I gave a faint smile, my voice calm. “That Mr. Chase, who just got escorted out, really appreciates your hard work.” “This five million dollar bonus and an apartment are his way of acknowledging your diligent efforts. Please, take them.” Maria gasped, her hand trembling, nearly dropping the items. “M-miss, I can’t possibly… how could I accept something like this…?” “He gave it. Just take it. The password is six eights. The apartment is at the Royal Towers, Building A, Unit 1101.” I finished, then turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Maria’s effusive thanks, and the air around me was thick with an absurd, ironic tang. Just as I got back into the car, my assistant Maya called. “Seraphina, the ‘Timeless Treasures’ charity auction for antique watches starts in half an hour. Your car’s waiting downstairs.” “Got it.” This trip back home, besides seeing family, my top priority was to bid on that specific vintage military watch. Half an hour later, at the auction house. I’d just settled into my reserved seat when I felt two hostile gazes land on me. I looked up. Well, well. Speak of the devil. Brandon was there, arm-in-arm with his newlywed wife, Tiffany Monroe, standing not far away. He saw me, first freezing, then a smug, ‘I knew you couldn’t let me go’ expression spread across his face, as if my presence here was solely to stalk him. Tiffany, on the other hand, was like a peacock in full display, her chin tilted slightly, scrutinizing me from head to toe as if I were a cheap knock-off. “Brandon, is this Miss Hayes?” Her voice wasn’t too loud or too soft, just enough for everyone around to hear. “I thought she was some formidable figure. Turns out she’s just a regular assistant. Is this even a place she should be?” Brandon immediately patted her hand reassuringly, but his gaze was glued to me, laced with a mix of reprimand and indulgence. “Seraphina is just throwing a tantrum, don’t bother with her.” I couldn’t be bothered with that pair of pathetic showboats. I lowered my head and flipped through the auction catalog. Soon, the auction began. One dazzling, jeweled item after another was presented, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd. Finally, it was time for the military watch I was interested in. The host announced: “The next item is a military wrist-watch from World War II. The brand is unknown, starting bid is one hundred thousand dollars.” The watch was projected onto the big screen. The casing was severely worn, its leather strap cracked and brittle. Next to the dazzling jewels that had just been sold, it looked utterly plain, almost… shabby. A wave of whispers rippled through the audience. Brandon’s scoff was clearly audible. “Seraphina Hayes, your taste is getting worse and worse. After leaving me, is this the only junk you can afford?” Tiffany giggled, chiming in, “Brandon, don’t say that. Maybe Miss Hayes wants to buy it for her collection. You know, for ‘nostalgia.’” She dragged out the word ‘nostalgia’ with a pointed, sugary sweetness, dripping with insinuation. I ignored them and simply raised my paddle. “Three hundred thousand.” Brandon’s face darkened. He probably thought I was publicly defying him. He immediately raised his paddle: “Five hundred thousand.” I didn’t hesitate: “One million.” Brandon’s face turned even uglier. He seemed convinced I was just being childish, trying to get his attention. He gritted his teeth and raised his paddle: “One point five million.” “Three million.” I raised my paddle again, my voice nonchalant. The entire room erupted in murmurs. Spending three million dollars on a ‘junk watch’ with an unknown history? Everyone probably thought I’d lost my mind. Brandon’s face was beet-red. He glared at me, as if trying to detect even a hint of bluff or regret in my expression. But he was disappointed. Ultimately, the watch was successfully acquired by me for three million dollars. Maya went to handle the paperwork, but Brandon walked over to me, lowering his voice in warning. “Seraphina Hayes, have you thrown enough tantrums?” “Draining your savings on this trash, just to get me to look at you again? Is it worth it?” He turned, then coldly addressed Maya, who stood beside me: “Keep your boss in check. Don’t let her go crazy again.” With that, he walked away, an infuriating ‘I’m so worried about you’ look on his face. Honestly, his arrogance knew no bounds. It was sickening. **Chapter 2** The auction ended, and I waited in the lounge for Maya to finish the paperwork. “Seraphina, all alone here?” Tiffany opened with a false sweetness, a victorious smirk playing on her lips. She took out a delicate velvet box from her Hermès handbag and opened it in front of me. Inside was a brand-new diamond-encrusted ladies’ watch, sparkling blindingly under the lights. “Brandon just bought me this ‘Stellar Sparkle’ watch, but I think it’s a bit too flashy. Your wrist looks bare, why don’t I just give it to you?” She held the watch out, like she was bestowing a great gift. “Women, you know, should wear delicate, beautiful things. An old, broken military watch like that just brings bad luck.” Brandon chimed in, his voice laced with condescending instruction. “She’s right, Seraphina. You don’t need to drain all your savings on junk like that just to get my attention.” “You weren’t like this before. Why have you become so vain and childish?” He reached out, actually trying to take the military watch I’d just bought from the box Maya was holding. “Listen to me. Give me that junk, and I’ll get you a new one.” My eyes turned cold, and I subtly moved, avoiding his hand. This watch, which he called junk, was profoundly significant to me. It was a relic, worn by my husband, Alexander Vance’s grandfather on the battlefield. It was a gift from his father when Alexander turned eighteen, and later, he gave it to me as a token of our love. Putting it up for auction was just a formality for the group’s charity foundation. I never expected it to cause such a dramatic scene. Seeing that I wouldn’t “listen,” Brandon’s patience finally ran out. His voice grew harder. “Seraphina Hayes, what are you even trying to prove? Do you want to embarrass me in public?” Disregarding my wishes, he directly tried to snatch it. In the struggle, the watch box in Maya’s hand clattered to the floor. The seemingly unremarkable military watch rolled out of the box, and a clear crack instantly appeared on the watch face. My mind went blank, a ringing silence, as if something had exploded inside me. A surge of uncontrollable rage shot straight to my head. I sharply raised my hand and, with all my might, delivered a resounding slap across Brandon’s face. *“Smack!”* The crisp sound echoed loudly in the quiet lounge. Everyone was stunned. “Brandon Chase, you are *dead* to me!” My voice was icy cold, every word squeezed out through gritted teeth. Brandon clutched his face, also stunned by my violent reaction. He stood frozen for several seconds. Then, a twisted look of realization spread across his face. He stared at me, his eyes blazing with jealousy and a twisted kind of madness. He’d decided this ‘junk watch’ must be from some new lover. My fury, my loss of control – in his twisted mind, it was all the guilt and pure rage of someone caught red-handed. He sneered, his voice filled with the pain of betrayal. “Fine, Seraphina Hayes, I finally get it.” “I wondered why your personality suddenly changed. So, you found yourself a new man?” “For something another man gave you, you dared to hit me?!” **Chapter 3** People around us started pointing and whispering. Tiffany immediately seized the opportunity, adding fuel to the fire. “Oh my goodness, Seraphina, how could you hit him? Brandon was only trying to help you!” “Even if… even if you found someone else, you can’t treat Brandon like this, can you? He was your ex, you had so many years together…” She looked utterly heartbroken, but with a few words, she painted me as some kind of fickle, ungrateful cheat. Brandon bent down, picked up the cracked wrist-watch from the floor, his eyes terrifyingly dark. “So nervous? Which secret lover gave this to you?” He meticulously examined the watch, turning it over and over, as if trying to stare a hole through it. Finally, on the back of the watch face, he found a hand-carved mark, almost worn beyond recognition. It was an ‘Xan.’ Alexander Vance had carved it himself. “Xan?” Brandon stared at the initial, first puzzled, then letting out a contemptuous sneer. “Heh, Seraphina Hayes, I truly underestimated you. When did your taste get so bad?” “You hooked up with some guy who isn’t even worth revealing a full name? And he gave you something so cheap?” He naturally misinterpreted ‘Xan’ as some shady alias or a sugar baby’s pet name, his voice filled with scorn and disdain. I wasn’t about to waste a single word explaining anything to him. I snatched the watch back from his hand, clutching it tightly in my palm, the cold metal digging into my skin. I looked up, my gaze icy, and corrected him word by word. “It’s from my husband.” “Husband?” “You married some random guy just to spite me?” “Seraphina Hayes, are you insane?!” He suddenly seized my wrist, his grip so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. “I’m giving you one last chance. Break it off with him and come back to me, now!” His eyes were bloodshot, and he had that infuriating ‘look-at-all-I’ve-sacrificed-for-you’ expression. “Considering you used to be with me, I can overlook your recent foolishness.” “But you need to move into the apartment I offered, get rid of that other guy’s baby, and be ready for my call, anytime!” I looked at his crazed expression and felt nothing but disgust. I forcefully yanked my hand away, my eyes filled only with the disdain one reserves for trash. “Brandon Chase, do you honestly think you’re worthy?” Just then, Maya, my assistant, having finished the paperwork, rushed over. Seeing the tense atmosphere, she immediately bowed respectfully to me. “Mrs. Vance, all the paperwork is complete, and your car is ready.” She paused, then added: “Mr. Vance just called, asking when you’ll be finished. He’s waiting for your call.” “Mr. Vance?” Brandon’s face instantly twisted into an even uglier grimace at the sound of the surname. He looked at me, as if he’d caught me red-handed, a cold sneer on his face. “So, it’s a Vance. Very well.” “Seraphina Hayes, you just wait.” He thought he’d finally caught the surname of my “other guy.” **Chapter 4** I didn’t want to waste another second with that lunatic. Clutching the damaged wrist-watch, my heart aching with urgency, I immediately got into the car, escorted by Maya. Behind me, Brandon watched my retreating back, a sneer on his face as he addressed Maya. “Go tell your boss that tomorrow, at the FutureTech Summit, I’ll have a huge ‘surprise’ for her.” His confident tone suggested he was already certain of victory. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what his “surprise” would be. He probably thought my “Mr. Vance” was some bloated, flashy tech mogul who’d just gotten lucky with the latest trend. He planned to expose my “sugar baby” scandal at tomorrow’s summit, in front of everyone, to force me into submission and satisfy his pathetic male ego. Truly, laughably stupid. In the car, I called Alexander Vance. The call was answered almost immediately. The moment I heard his voice, my tightly wound nerves finally relaxed, and my voice held a hint of vulnerability I hadn’t noticed myself. “Xan… our love token… I… I broke it.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then, Alexander’s deep, gentle voice came through, filled with comforting strength. “Did you hurt your hand?” “As long as you’re okay, a watch is just a watch. If it’s broken, we’ll fix it.” “Don’t overthink it. Come home soon. After the summit tomorrow, I’ll go with you to get it repaired.” Hearing his soothing words, my heart warmed, and only then did I realize something. Tomorrow’s FutureTech Summit… wasn’t it hosted by Elysian, the luxury conglomerate Alexander Vance helmed? … The next day, at the FutureTech Summit. The room was packed with the elite, a constellation of stars from the tech and finance worlds. Brandon and Tiffany strutted through the crowd like two strutting peacocks who’d just won a fight. His eyes, like radar, scanned the room for me, and for the ‘Mr. Vance’ he’d conjured in his imagination. When he saw me sitting alone, perfectly composed, in the third row of the guest section, his conviction solidified. I saw him whisper a few words to Tiffany, who immediately covered her mouth, shooting me a look of disdain and schadenfreude. Clearly, they believed my front-row seat was bought by my ‘Mr. Vance’ at a hefty price, solely to satisfy the vanity of *me*, his ‘gold-digger’ girlfriend. I ignored them, my head bowed, reviewing the summit agenda. Finally, the summit officially began. The host took the stage, using the most elaborate and grand rhetoric to introduce the keynote speaker for the event. “Over the past five years, he’d taken the luxury industry by storm, consolidating nearly half of the global market. With a visionary eye, he seamlessly merged technology and art, forging an entirely new business empire.” “He is the legend of our era!” “Now, please give a warm round of applause for the founder and patriarch of the Elysian Group – Mr. Alexander Vance!” As his words faded, the hall erupted in thunderous applause. The spotlight instantly illuminated the stage entrance. Alexander Vance, impeccably dressed in a tailored bespoke suit, walked calmly onto the stage. His handsome, cold face appeared on the big screen, his deep eyes like frosty stars. He commanded the stage with the presence of royalty, instantly silencing the entire room. In that moment, I clearly saw Brandon, not far away, his smug, arrogant expression instantly freeze, then shatter into a mask of pure disbelief. He stared fixedly at Alexander on stage, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Of course, he knew Alexander Vance. Alexander was a titan of industry he could only look up to, a business emperor he didn’t even have the qualifications to curry favor with. He was the mysterious power behind the Elysian Group, the very company he dreamt of securing investment from. Alexander stopped at the center of the stage, but his gaze didn’t fall on any of the guests in the audience. His eyes, cutting through the bustling crowd, landed gently and precisely on me. He picked up the microphone, his thin lips parting. His first words instantly shocked everyone present. “Before I begin today’s address, please allow me to attend to a personal matter.” His dark eyes were deep and unwavering, his voice calm yet carrying an unquestionable authority. “My wife was… mistreated yesterday.” “As her husband, I need to get justice for her.” **Chapter 5** He subtly tilted his head, gesturing to the backstage director. The next second, the enormous high-definition LED screen behind him instantly switched to surveillance footage from the auction lounge yesterday. On the large screen, the images were so clear you could see the pores on people’s faces.

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My husband, Asher, and my best friend, Blair, had conspired to push me off a high-rise building. Before I died, I saw them livestreaming from the rooftop. The title read, “Watch Me Send My Gold-Digging Bitch Wife to Hell LIVE.” The comments exploded with “LOLs” and “You’re a legend!” “This kind of greedy woman deserved it, Boss Asher is awesome!” “Zoom in! I want to see her desperate face!” “Goddess Blair finally gets to be with Boss Asher. Congrats!” Turns out, the whole world knew they were going to kill me. Only I was clueless. As they embraced and celebrated, I hovered behind them, a laugh escaping me. “Darling, I didn’t leave.” Asher’s body instantly stiffened. From then on, every night, I lay between them, whispering in their ears. I’d tell them how steel rebar had pierced my body, how my brains had splattered. Watching them go from sweet affection to mutual suspicion, eventually spiraling into mental breakdowns, brought me immense satisfaction. Until Blair went completely insane and brought in a Taoist master. But the master simply bowed respectfully to me: “Greetings, Ghost King. Welcome to your rightful place.”

My body passed through the ground, without any sensation. I looked down at my translucent hand. So, people really do become ghosts after they die. Not far away, Asher was holding Blair, their kiss deep and passionate. “Blair, we did it.” “Asher, I love you so much.” Blair’s cheeks were flushed, and she snuggled contentedly into Asher’s arms. Beneath their feet lay my still-warm corpse. My skull was shattered, red and white brain matter smeared across the ground. My eyes were wide open, staring up at the rooftop. There lay the man I had loved most, and my closest friend. They were celebrating my death, using the money my parents had left me. I drifted closer, right next to Asher’s ear. “Darling, I didn’t leave.” His body stiffened, and his embrace around Blair froze. “What’s wrong, Asher?” Blair noticed his unease. Asher’s face went pale, his eyes darting around in terror. “Did… did you hear something?” “Hear what? I only hear your heartbeat.” Blair purred, tracing circles on his chest. Asher swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Maybe I’m just too nervous, I must have imagined it.” I smiled. Don’t be nervous. Our game has only just begun. The police arrived quickly and took my body away. Asher, as my husband, feigned overwhelming grief. He held his head, repeatedly telling the police, “It’s all my fault, I didn’t watch her closely enough. She had depression, I should have known.” Blair played the role of the devastated best friend, sobbing uncontrollably, almost collapsing. The neighbors whispered amongst themselves, full of sympathy. “Mr. Asher is so pitiful, his wife just jumped.” “Yes, and Ms. Blair, what a good friend, crying like that.” I watched their performance with cold amusement. They really were a perfect pair of scumbags, their acting skills were impeccable. Back home, as soon as the door closed, the sadness vanished from their faces. Blair eagerly threw herself into Asher’s arms. “Asher, can we be together forever now?” “Of course, my darling.” Asher held her, tumbling onto the living room sofa. This was my home, the house my parents had left me as our marital residence. Now, it had become their sordid love nest. I floated above them, watching coldly. They tore at each other’s clothes, their breathing growing heavy. Just as Asher was about to get down to business, I blew a soft breath. The room’s temperature dropped sharply. Asher shivered, his desire instantly gone. “Why is it suddenly so cold?” He pulled the blanket over himself. Blair shivered too. “Yeah, is the AC broken?” I drifted to the air conditioner and set the temperature to its lowest. Cold air blasted out. Blair’s teeth began to chatter. “Asher, I’m scared.” “Don’t be afraid, I’ll check it.” Asher reluctantly got up, picking up the remote control. But no matter how many times he pressed it, the AC didn’t respond. He reached to switch off the power directly, but the moment his hand touched the switch, an electric current jolted him back. “Damn it!” He cursed, a scorched mark appearing on the back of his hand. Blair shrieked in terror. I let out a soft laugh, barely audible, yet it clearly reached their ears. “Who? Who’s there?” Asher’s hair stood on end. Blair practically burrowed into the blanket, trembling. I didn’t make another sound. I liked watching them terrified, yet unable to find the source. It was far more amusing than simply killing them.

That night, neither of them slept well. The next day, they both had huge dark circles under their eyes and looked utterly drained. Blair moved in first thing that morning, ostensibly to “care for a deeply grieving” Asher. She began to openly assume the role of mistress of the house. The first thing she did was throw out all my belongings. My clothes, my makeup, my books. As she tossed them, she whined to Asher, “Asher, these things just feel unlucky. Can we replace everything with new stuff, please?” Asher readily agreed. “Sure, whatever you want, as long as you’re happy.” I floated in front of the closet, watching Blair throw my favorite dress on the floor and even stomp on it. That was the first birthday gift Asher had ever given me. He’d said I looked like a fairy in it. Now, he watched Blair desecrate that “fairy-like” image, without a hint of regret in his eyes. I reached out and lightly touched the closet door. The heavy solid wood door slammed shut with a bang, crashing directly onto Blair’s foot. “Ah!” Blair shrieked, clutching her foot and rolling on the floor. Asher was aghast, rushing over to help her. “Blair, what happened?” “My foot… the closet door, it fell on its own!” Blair cried tears of pain. Asher looked up at the perfectly intact closet, frowning. “How could it fall on its own? Did you lose your balance?” “No! It just fell! This house is haunted! Valerie… Valerie’s back!” Blair completely broke down. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Asher snapped. “There’s no such thing as ghosts in this world!” Even as he said it, he subconsciously glanced around, his eyes filled with fear. I stood before him, flashing a brilliant smile. Too bad he couldn’t see me. Blair’s foot was fractured, and Asher took her to the hospital. Asher was left alone at home. He sat on the sofa, lit a cigarette, his brow deeply furrowed. He opened his phone and watched the livestream replay. As he watched the moment I was pushed off the building on the screen, instead of fear, a triumphant smirk played on his lips. The comments were still scrolling wildly. “Boss is a beast! That manipulative bitch deserved to die!” “Finally dead, what a relief!” “Asher and Blair are true love, they’re meant to be!” Asher watched with relish, as if enjoying a thrilling movie. I floated behind him, leaning close to his ear. “Enjoying the show?” My voice was icy, laced with a hint of mockery. The phone in Asher’s hand clattered to the floor. He whirled around, but there was no one there. “Who? Who’s playing these tricks? Get out here!” He grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it toward the center of the living room. The ashtray shattered on the floor. I effortlessly dodged it. “Don’t get so worked up, darling.” “Have you forgotten? It’s me, your wife, Valerie.” I mimicked my voice from when I was alive, calling him softly. Asher’s face instantly drained of all color. He scrambled out of the house, as if a monstrous flood was chasing him. I watched his pathetic retreat, my smile widening. This was just the beginning. 3. Asher hid in a hotel for two days. I didn’t bother him during that time. I needed him to believe that as long as he left that house, he was safe. After Blair was discharged from the hospital, she immediately went to find him. As soon as she saw him, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. “Asher, I’m so scared. Can we not live in that house anymore? Can we sell it and buy a new one?” Her crying irritated Asher. “Sell it? Easier said than done! That was Valerie’s pre-marital property, left to her by her parents. She just died, the property’s still frozen. How can we sell it?” Blair’s sobbing stopped short. “Then what do we do? I can’t go back, I really can’t.” “Alright, stop crying!” Asher pushed her away impatiently. “It was just a closet door, what kind of ghost could that be? You’re just scaring yourself!” He said it, but he himself didn’t dare to go home. So, they settled into the hotel. They thought that would be the end of it. So naive. At night, I waited until they were both sound asleep before slowly materializing. I lay between them, my cold body pressed against Asher’s back. He was sleeping soundly, seemingly lost in a pleasant dream, a smile on his lips. I leaned close to his ear, and in a voice only he could hear, I began to tell stories. “When you pushed me down, Blair seemed to be smiling, you know.” “She said your money, your house, would all be hers now.” Asher’s breathing grew shallow, and his body twisted restlessly in his sleep. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his brows tightly furrowed. I turned my head and leaned close to Blair’s ear. “Blair, my best friend.” “Asher said he was just playing with you, and once he got all my assets, he’d dump you.” “He also sent your intimate photos to his friends, saying you were cheap.” Blair’s eyes snapped open, and she let out a horrified scream. “Ah!” Asher was startled awake by her. “What’s wrong with you now?” he grumbled. “Valerie… I dreamed of Valerie! She was talking right in my ear!” Blair clutched her head, trembling all over. “Are you sick? Valerie, Valerie, all the time!” Asher was at his wits’ end. “It was just a dream!” “It wasn’t a dream! It was real! I heard it clearly!” “I think you’ve really lost your mind!” The two of them had a huge fight in the hotel room in the middle of the night. I floated on the ceiling, savoring their pathetic display. Mutual suspicion, mutual accusations. Excellent. From that day on, I visited them every night to tell them stories. I recounted the details of my death, the wicked deeds they had committed, and then embellished them with fabricated lies. Asher and Blair’s sleep quality plummeted, and their mental state deteriorated rapidly. They began to suspect each other. Blair wondered if Asher really just wanted to trick her for money and then dump her. Asher suspected Blair of secretly plotting something behind his back. The two, once so inseparable, now looked at each other with eyes full of wariness and disgust. Their “love” crumbled easily under the weight of my ghost stories. 4. Half a month later, they finally couldn’t take it anymore. Their money was almost gone, and they couldn’t afford the hotel. Most importantly, no matter where they went, my voice followed them like a shadow. They had no choice but to bite the bullet and move back into the house that filled them with dread. On the very first day back, Blair hired a shaman. The shaman wore a robe of an indistinguishable color, and strange symbols were painted on her face. As soon as she entered, she portentously walked around. “Hmm, this house has a seriously eerie vibe.” Blair clung to her like a lifeline, quickly asking, “Master, can you fix it?” The shaman pulled out a stack of yellow talismans from her robe. “No problem. I’ll set up a spell array and make sure that little ghost is banished forever.” With that, she plastered the talismans all over the house. On the doors, windows, walls, and ceiling. Then, she lit three incense sticks and chanted incantations under her breath. I curiously drifted closer to watch. The talismans were crooked and looked like childish scribbles. I reached out and touched one, and it instantly turned to ash. The shaman’s chanting stopped abruptly. She stared, dumbfounded, as her “spiritual tools” failed right before me. I blew a breath in her direction. All the talismans in the room spontaneously combusted at the same time. The flames weren’t large, but they were enough to send the shaman scrambling away in terror. “Ghost… A ghost!” She stumbled out, fleeing in a panic, not even bothering to collect her payment for the ritual. Blair and Asher’s faces were paler than corpses. Even a shaman couldn’t deal with me. They were utterly desperate. From that day on, Blair’s sanity completely unraveled. She started talking to herself, alternating between crying and laughing. She would yell at empty air, calling me a “bitch” for haunting them even after death. She would also suddenly fall to her knees, begging me to leave her alone. Asher wasn’t much better. He began to drink heavily, getting drunk every day. Only under the haze of alcohol could he find a moment of peace. But once the liquor wore off, an even deeper fear awaited him. I intensified my efforts. I began to manifest myself before them. At first, it was just a blurry shadow, flickering in the corner of their eyes. Later, it became clearer and clearer. They could see me, wearing the white dress I died in, covered in blood, floating through the living room. The first time Blair saw my clear image, she fainted outright from fright. When she woke up, she was completely mad. She told everyone that I had returned to take their lives. No one believed her. Everyone thought she had suffered a mental breakdown from the shock of her “best friend’s suicide.” Asher had her committed to a mental hospital. I followed. In the mental hospital, Blair was tied to her bed, endlessly muttering my name. “Valerie, please let me go, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” “Please, stop following me.” The doctors injected her with a sedative, and she slowly quieted down. Asher stood outside the room, watching her through the glass. There was no hint of tenderness on his face, only disgust and relief. He had finally gotten rid of that crazy woman. I floated beside him and whispered, “You’re next.” Asher’s body trembled, and he spun around abruptly. He seemed to sense something, his eyes filled with terror. He no longer cared about his disheveled appearance, stumbling out of the hospital. He thought that if he just stayed far away from Blair, far away from anything connected to me, he could escape me. He was wrong. I was his shadow; wherever he went, I followed. He dared not go home, dared not go to the office, only wandering aimlessly outside. He sought out all sorts of masters, monks, and Taoist priests. He spent a lot of money, but none of them helped. Those so-called “spiritual experts,” upon seeing me, either fled in terror or were complete charlatans. Asher’s savings quickly ran dry. He had killed me for my money. Now, the money was gone, and he’d brought a world of trouble upon himself. What a cosmic joke. He became increasingly haggard, his eyes sunken, his face unshaven, like a homeless man. He no longer resembled the once-spirited Boss Asher. I watched him walk step by step toward his ruin, my heart filled with glee. One day, he heard about a Taoist temple in the city’s outskirts, where an old Taoist master supposedly had profound magical powers, specializing in dealing with “unclean” things. He clung to it like a last straw, immediately seeking it out. It was a very dilapidated temple, hidden deep in the mountains. Asher hiked a long way up the mountain path before finding the place. When he saw the old Taoist master, he immediately knelt down. “Master, please save me! I’m being haunted by a malevolent ghost!” The old Taoist master, Master Zephyr, had white hair and beard, exuding an ethereal presence. He opened his eyes and calmly glanced at Asher. Then, his gaze moved past Asher and settled on me. In that instant, his expression changed. No longer calm, but startled, with a hint of reverence. I was somewhat surprised. This old Taoist master seemed different from the charlatans before. He could clearly see me. Asher was still weeping. “That female ghost is too powerful, Master, you must help me banish her! I’ll pay any amount!” The old Taoist ignored him. He stood up, adjusted his robes, and then, to Asher’s shocked gaze, he respectfully knelt in my direction. “Greetings, Ghost King. Welcome to your rightful place.” 5. Asher’s sobs caught in his throat. He stared wide-eyed, utterly disbelieving what he was seeing. “Mas… Master? What are you doing? Why are you kneeling to her?”

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Before my parents died, they arranged a marriage for me, Diana Easterlin, to marry the powerful tycoon Jaxon Fowler, who was rumored to be infertile. The day I received the marriage contract, strange floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: 【Female lead, you absolutely cannot marry him! Jaxon is not only infertile, but he’s also a violent maniac!】 【If you marry him, you’ll be tortured to death. Run away!】 【Julius is the one who truly loves you—elope with him!】 Julius Johnston grabbed my hand and gazed at me with deep affection. “Diana, let’s leave together. This marriage is too dangerous. Why don’t we have your family’s maid Paige Evans marry in your place? She grew up with you and knows all your mannerisms—no one will notice the difference.” In my previous life, I was deceived by the affection in his eyes and those floating comments, choosing to elope with him. But the final result was watching Paige take my identity, bear Jaxon a son, and inherit billions in family wealth. In the end, Julius held Paige close while tying boulders to my body and kicking me into the ocean. Julius said smugly, “From now on, she’s Diana. You fool will stay at the bottom of the sea forever.” I watched helplessly as sharks tore at my flesh bit by bit, the excruciating pain lasting until only white bones remained on the ocean floor. After my rebirth, I finally understood—those floating comments were all fake, carefully orchestrated traps set by Julius. Facing Julius’s request to elope again, I sneered coldly, ignoring the floating comments before my eyes: “I’m not someone to be bullied. I’m definitely going through with this marriage.” On the wedding day, I put on the diamond wedding dress Jaxon had sent, arranged my veil, and waited quietly for him to come get me. Unexpectedly, Julius arrived first. He grabbed my hand and yanked off my veil: “Diana, let’s elope, okay? This is the last chance. I really can’t bear to watch you jump into a pit of fire! Jaxon is just an infertile pervert—only I truly love you!” I snatched back my veil and said coldly, “Leave. There’s only one person I’m marrying, and that’s Jaxon.” The floating comments went crazy again: 【Female lead, wake up! Marrying him means being tortured by a pervert!】 【Don’t be stupid, female lead! Missing such a good man like Julius will make you regret it forever!】 Looking at these familiar phrases, I found them utterly ridiculous. Julius’s voice trembled with a sob that could fool anyone: “Diana, snap out of it! What era are we in, and he’s still doing traditional weddings? This just proves he has psychological problems. You’ll definitely be tortured if you marry him. I’m doing this all for your own good.” I found it laughable—he could twist an ordinary wedding into evidence of Jaxon’s psychological problems. In my previous life, he used these same tactics to constantly poison my mind against Jaxon. Yet I believed his every word and chose to elope with him before the wedding. How foolish I was. Seeing my silence, the floating comments attacked again: 【Julius is doing this for the female lead’s good, but she doesn’t appreciate it. So infuriating!】 【Sigh, such a good man, but the female lead doesn’t know quality when she sees it.】 Those words clung to my vision like barnacles on the ocean floor, dense and painful. My voice turned ice-cold: “I don’t need you doing things for my good, and I won’t allow you to slander my fiancé!” Time was running short. I stood up and said, “Please leave immediately, or I won’t hesitate to have security escort you out.” Through my veil, I saw Julius clench his fists instantly, but he could only turn around helplessly. He said through gritted teeth, “Diana, I never expected you to be so heartless, betraying my sincere feelings for you!” With that, he stormed out. Through the crack in the door, I saw Paige cowering in the shadows, wearing the pearl necklace I had lost around her neck. The sound of Jaxon’s wedding procession engines came from outside. A cold smile curved my lips. As long as I successfully complete this marriage today, let’s see what trouble you can stir up.

Ninety-nine Rolls-Royce Phantoms lined up neatly downstairs. Jaxon stepped out from the driver’s seat, his custom black suit accentuating his tall, upright figure. The rear door opened, and surprisingly, a sweet-looking young woman emerged, following closely behind Jaxon. The two appeared quite intimate. I froze in place. In my previous life, Jaxon had been a devoted, faithful husband who cherished his wife. But who was this woman clinging to him? The bullet comments appeared before my eyes again. 【Jaxon is so outrageous, bringing his mistress even to his wedding. Is this supposed to intimidate the female lead?】 【I heard Jaxon has over a dozen mistresses like this at home. What a pervert.】 【The female lead should escape before he comes upstairs. She should call Julius quickly—this is her last chance.】 Watching the constantly scrolling comments, all convinced this woman was a kept mistress, I actually calmed down. I observed carefully through the window and noticed that although she stayed close to Jaxon, she maintained a certain distance. The haute couture embroidered gown she wore had hand-sewn pearls on the hem—clearly the one-of-a-kind piece that Chanel had auctioned for an astronomical price last Christmas. Such refinement and nobility—how could it possibly belong to a kept mistress? Understanding dawned on me, and I calmly sat back on the bed. Steady footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs, stopping abruptly at my door. Jaxon turned the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. His voice penetrated the door, cold and distant. “Ms. Easterlin, if you don’t want to marry me because of the rumors, just say so. What’s the meaning of this?” I hurried to open the door, but the moment my fingertips touched the cold lock, I felt something foreign stuck in the keyhole. I suddenly remembered Julius’s smug smile before leaving—it must have been his doing. Now Jaxon would definitely think I was deliberately humiliating him. Cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. In my previous life, though Jaxon was protective of his family, he showed no mercy to those who deceived him. Sure enough, his voice outside suddenly turned menacing. “You’re the first person to shut me out.” The bullet comments began flooding my vision again. 【The female lead is doomed now. She’s offended the psycho—she’s in for torture.】 【Sigh, she could still leave now, but she won’t listen to advice.】 Watching the gloating comments, I took a deep breath. A mere door thinks it can trap me? I’m someone who’s died once! I gripped my dress hem, stepped back three paces, then charged forward and kicked the door open with all my might. “CRASH!” The door thundered to the ground, drawing gasps of amazement from everyone at the entrance. Momentum carried me forward uncontrollably toward Jaxon, but his warm palms caught me steadily. I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his gaze. In his pupils, an emotion like starlight flickered and vanished. My ears burned red with embarrassment. I hastily pulled down my veil and said, “Mr. Fowler, you’re overthinking this. The door was just broken. Being able to marry you is my good fortune.” His low chuckle suddenly resonated in my ear, carrying an alluring undertone. “You’re quite different from the rumors.” I pursed my lips, thinking to myself: You’re quite different from the rumors too.

The girl beside me suddenly burst into applause, breaking the delicate atmosphere. She linked her arm intimately with mine and said, “You’re quite impressive! Making such a memorable first impression with spaghetti! I’m Caroline Fowler. I approve of you.” So she was Jaxon’s sister. I breathed a sigh of relief. Before I could speak, Jaxon had already stridden over with his long legs, raising his hand to lightly tap Caroline’s head: “Mind your manners.” When he turned to me, his expression became serious as he pulled out a brocade box from his jacket: “Grandfather instructed that we exchange bracelets before the wedding ceremony to fulfill one of his wishes.” I instinctively reached for my wrist, only to touch cold, empty air. My heart skipped a beat—I had clearly been wearing it on my wrist this morning. When did it disappear? In my panic, I looked up and met Jaxon’s suddenly cold gaze. He stepped closer, his fingertips lifting my chin as his voice turned dangerously low: “Ms. Easterlin has always been timid and shy, yet now she’s showing her claws. I’m curious—has your personality changed, or have you been replaced?” I kept backing away, my throat tightening, not knowing how to explain. I was someone who had died once—of course I would change. If I didn’t become brave, how could I reclaim the life that rightfully belonged to me? But rebirth was such an absurd and bizarre thing—who would believe it? Just as I found myself cornered, the floating comments appeared before my eyes again. 【Female lead, just admit you’re fake already. Maybe you can still save your life.】 【Female lead, why aren’t you running? Waiting to be tortured by this psycho?】 I gripped my skirt tightly and shook my head, taking a deep breath: “I am Diana, and I can prove it!” “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving slightly. “How will you prove it?” My mind raced. Jaxon and I had never met before, so naturally he wouldn’t recognize me. But his grandfather Emmett Fowler had seen me. According to my parents, he had even held me the day I was born! I said, “Mr. Fowler, when I was born, your grandfather praised the red birthmark on my chest, saying it was beautiful—like a blooming rose.” I paused, swallowing the nervousness in my throat: “If I show you the birthmark on my chest, that should prove I’m Diana, right?” I sighed with relief, never imagining that one day I’d have to prove to someone that I was myself. Jaxon narrowed his eyes, his lips curving: “I did hear him mention that.” He released my chin, his slender fingers casually adjusting his cuffs: “However, undressing in front of everyone—Ms. Easterlin, your frankness truly opens my eyes.” My cheeks instantly flushed red: “That’s not what I meant!” Just as I was struggling with this dilemma, Julius’s voice came from behind me: “Mr. Fowler, there’s no need to look. This is the real Ms. Easterlin—the bracelet is proof.” Julius placed his fingertips on Paige’s shoulder, pushing her forward, and there on her wrist was unmistakably the bracelet.

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