Ten years into our marriage, Declan finally stopped calling me by the wrong name in his sleep. When his “first love” called, he didn’t immediately abandon me to run to her. Even our son started treating me like a mother, instead of begging for “Auntie Serena” to be his mom. Friends and family congratulated me. They said my patience had finally paid off, that the clouds had parted. Even my best friend, who had cut me off years ago because she couldn’t stand watching me degrade myself for him, sent a text: “After all these years, Declan actually started loving you. I guess you win.” Yes, he finally started loving me. He even canceled a major business trip to stay with me for New Year’s Eve—a first. But I couldn’t find it within myself to be happy. When he presented me with the vintage diamond necklace I had admired months ago as a New Year’s gift, all I could manage was a stiff, polite smile. Declan finally snapped. “Isn’t this everything you’ve ever wanted? Elara, what the hell is wrong with you?” Chapter 1 Declan furrowed his brow, looking at me like I was a business crisis he needed to mitigate. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Is Leo acting up again?” I shook my head. For the past six months, Declan had cut contact with Serena. He reported his schedule to me. He actually started paying attention to my likes and dislikes. Compared to the hell of the last decade, he was currently a model husband. Even our son, Leo, was behaving. No more screaming at me, and his teachers actually sent home a good report card. Declan’s confusion turned into irritation. He drummed his fingers on the mahogany table. Tap, tap, tap. “If everything is perfect, why are you acting like this?” “Elara, what game are you playing now?” “You have one hour to give me a valid explanation, or I’m not spending New Year’s Eve with you.” He knew that was the ultimate threat. Since I was seventeen, my biggest wish was to kiss him when the ball dropped in Times Square—or at least, in our living room watching it on TV. Now, at thirty-two, I finally had the chance. But the joy wasn’t there. I couldn’t figure it out myself. Was I depressed? Did I just not believe him? Declan didn’t get the answer he wanted. Instead, he got a phone call from Serena. He hesitated for two seconds. Then, perhaps to punish me for my silence, he broke his six-month streak and answered it. Serena’s voice, trembling and fragile, drifted from the speaker. “Declan… you finally answered.” “I fell in the shower… I can’t stand up. Please, you have to come save me.” Declan said “Okay.” Then he watched me, gauging my reaction. The old Elara would have been hysterical. I would have smashed vases. I would have knelt on the floor, hugging his legs, begging him not to go. But since six months ago, I had lost the energy to compete with Serena. I just said calmly, “Falling in the bathroom can be dangerous. You should go.” The darkness in Declan’s eyes deepened. He let out a cold laugh. “You’re so generous now. Fine. Since you’re so worried, come with me to help.” He drove like a maniac. We arrived at Serena’s apartment in record time. Declan waited in the living room while I went into the bathroom. Serena was lying on the tile floor, naked, posed in a way that accentuated every curve. Her voice was like honey. “Declan, I missed you so much… especially your touch…” But when she turned her head and saw me, the seduction died instantly. Her eyes shifted from lust to hatred. “What are you doing here? Did you come to mock me?” “Let me tell you, Elara. Declan only pities you. He’s only nice to you because you’ve been pathetic for so long. The one he really loves is me!” I didn’t care to argue. I stepped forward to check if she was actually injured. Suddenly, Serena lunged, snatched my phone from my pocket, snapped several photos of her own naked body, and then threw the phone across the room. She screamed, blood-curdling and shrill. “Don’t take photos of me! Help!” Declan burst in, panic written all over his face. “Serena! What happened?” Serena covered her chest with her hands, tears streaming down her face as she pointed at me. “She took nude photos of me! She threatened to leak them online and ruin my career if I didn’t stay away from you!” Declan picked up my phone. He saw the photos in the gallery. His expression instantly shifted from concern to terrifying malice. He grabbed my jaw, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “Elara, I thought you had changed. I guess it was all an act.” “You are still the same despicable, vicious, manipulative woman.” Those adjectives made me freeze. Declan had been so nice lately. I had almost forgotten that in his heart, this was who I really was. Chapter 2 They say first impressions are impossible to kill. When we were seventeen, the first time Declan “met” Serena, she was slipping money into his locker. He thought the person who had been anonymously helping him—the poor scholarship student—was her. Pure and kind Serena. But I was the one who put the money there. I had a crush on him. I didn’t want to watch him work three jobs and study until he passed out. I wanted to protect his pride, so I did it anonymously. The day he caught Serena, she wasn’t putting money in. She was stealing it. The first time Declan actually saw me, I was the rich, arrogant girl in the hallway, slapping Serena across the face. Serena was on her knees, begging. “Please, don’t have me expelled! I need this scholarship to change my life!” So, Declan decided I was a bully. A monster. He didn’t know Serena had stolen my late mother’s ring—a ring worth thousands—and sold it to a pawn shop for twenty bucks. I slapped her in a rage. Declan shoved me to the ground. “What do you think you’re doing?” My friend tried to defend me. “That thief stole Elara’s heirloom!” Declan looked at me with pure disgust. As a poor student, he’d been accused of stealing too many times. The scene triggered him. He threw the love letter I had placed in his locker that morning—along with the cash—at my feet. “Elara Vance, right? Let me tell you something. I will never, ever like someone like you.” He helped Serena up and walked away. Later, he put Serena on a pedestal. They went to the same college. He planned to propose. But the night before his graduation, at a party, both he and I were drugged. One night. That was all it took. I got pregnant with Leo. Declan was forced to break up with Serena and marry me. He was convinced I drugged him. At our wedding, he looked at me like I was his worst enemy. I had hope back then. I thought, eventually, he’ll see the real me. But ten years of marriage taught me otherwise. He abandoned me for Serena over and over. He sided with her every time she framed me. He whispered her name in our bed. I was done. Standing in that bathroom, listening to his accusations, I felt nothing but fatigue. “Apologize to Serena,” he commanded. I pushed his hand away. “Only people who do wrong need to apologize. I don’t.” I looked him in the eye. “If you feel so bad for her, go ahead and carry her to bed. She was just saying how much she missed your touch.” I had never spoken to him like that. “Get the hell out!” he roared. As I turned to leave, he yelled, “Elara! Don’t you dare regret this!” I regretted a lot of things. Leaving that room wasn’t one of them. I walked out into the cold night. The next morning, headlines exploded. Tech CEO Declan and Actress Serena: A Steamy New Year’s Eve Reunion. Declan didn’t come home. I was the laughingstock of our social circle again. Leo reverted to his old ways, crying that he wanted to sleep at Auntie Serena’s house. Worse, the internet “detectives” started digging. Since Declan never publicly acknowledged me, they assumed I was the mistress interfering with true love. Serena’s crazed fans cornered me in an alleyway behind the grocery store. Panic set in. I dialed home. Leo answered. “I’m making a birthday gift for Auntie Serena! Don’t bother me!” Click. I called Declan. Before I could scream for help, he cut me off. “Unless you are calling to apologize to Serena, don’t call me.” His voice was so cold it made me forget the baseball bat swinging toward me. I let out a bitter laugh. “What if I’m about to die? Can I call you then?” Declan paused, his breathing heavy. Then, fueled by anger: “Then go ahead and die.” The line went dead. The bat connected with my ribs. I closed my eyes. I collapsed in a pool of my own blood. Chapter 3 I woke up in a hospital bed. Declan was sitting there, looking uncharacteristically disheveled and anxious. I tried to move, but my body felt shattered. Especially my chest. “Don’t move,” Declan said, pressing my shoulder gently. “You have three broken ribs.” He licked his dry lips, looking guilty. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know you were in danger that day.” “Did they catch the people who did this?” I asked, my voice raspy. Declan looked away. “Karma will get them.” I almost laughed. Even Serena’s violent fans were protected by him? Seeing my expression, he mumbled, “The ringleader is close to Serena. She… she’s in a delicate condition right now. I can’t upset her by having her friend arrested.” Delicate condition. I looked at his eyes and I knew. Serena was pregnant. He forgot about my “delicate condition” years ago. He brought Serena to our house and slept with her on top of the baby clothes I bought. He claimed he had no money for my prenatal vitamins, then funded Serena’s acting career. When Serena tripped me and sent me into early labor, nearly killing me, he blamed me for being clumsy and hurting Serena’s ankle. The rage should have burned me alive. But Declan, oblivious, took my hand. “I know you’re upset, but you wronged Serena first.” “That day… if you hadn’t provoked me, I wouldn’t have slept with her.” “Elara, if you promise to change, I’ll give her a settlement once the baby is born. I’ll cut ties. And then…” He looked down, his ears turning red. “Then I will love you properly. More than I have these past six months.” My eyes widened. He said he would love me. The words I had waited fifteen years to hear. But instead of joy, my heart sank like a stone. In that moment of clarity, I finally understood why I hadn’t been happy for the last six months. Because by the time he started loving me, I had stopped loving him. It was such a simple answer. Loving him had been my survival instinct. Even when he destroyed me, I couldn’t turn it off. But now? It was gone. I wouldn’t accept crumbs anymore. I wouldn’t accept pain in the name of love. The invisible chains around my neck shattered. “Declan,” I said clearly. “Let’s get a divorce.” He froze. Then, the anger exploded. “Elara, are you threatening me?” “Do you want me to force Serena to get an abortion? Is that it?” “Are you so cruel that you’d kill an unborn child?!” Just then, Serena walked in, holding her stomach. She dramatically fell to her knees. “Elara, please! Spare my baby!” Behind her, my son, Leo, rushed forward. He had a hard plastic toy in his hand. He slammed it down onto my broken ribs. “Bad woman! Don’t bully my Mommy Serena! Don’t hurt my baby brother!” Chapter 4 The pain in my chest was blinding. It rivaled childbirth. Declan pulled Leo back, scolding him, but Leo just glared at me with pure hatred. This was the boy I almost died birthing. The boy I nursed through postpartum depression. He used to cling to me. But at three years old, Declan started “educating” him. Don’t be like your mother. Be kind like Auntie Serena. He turned my son against me. Just minutes ago, I was debating fighting for custody. Now? I was free. When the pain subsided, I whispered, “Have the baby. I was joking.” Declan relaxed. “I knew you wouldn’t be that heartless.” “When you get discharged, you can help take care of Serena at the house. She can’t be seen in public with the bump right now.” I agreed to everything. Inside, I was planning my escape. I had lost my family, my friends, and my career for this marriage. I had hit rock bottom. But I wasn’t going to die there. A month later, I discharged myself while Declan took Serena to an ultrasound and Leo was at school. I went home, grabbed my passport and ID—which I had to hunt for—and packed one suitcase. I took one last look at the house I had been imprisoned in for ten years. On the desk, I saw Declan’s open journal. The last entry read: I forgive her for her despicable past. I have made peace with loving her. I scoffed. I picked up a pen and wrote one line beneath it. I placed the signed divorce papers next to the journal. And then I walked out the door. … After the ultrasound, Serena picked a fight with Declan. “You’re distracted. Are you rushing back to see Elara?” “Do you only feel guilty toward me? Do you love her?” Declan didn’t answer. He didn’t know the answer. He just felt a frantic need to see Elara. He sped to the hospital, but the bed was empty. He raced home, ready to scream at her for leaving without permission. But the house was silent. The closet was open. Her things were gone. He stumbled into the study and saw the papers. He saw the note in the journal. He read it once and collapsed to the floor.

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When I decided to move across the country to Minneapolis for him, my mother chased me out of the house with a broom, screaming. “That broke kid has nothing! You’re going there to suffer. If you marry him, I don’t have a daughter!” For six years in the freezing north, Caleb Hayes swallowed every hardship. With hands covered in chilblains and calluses, he built us a home, brick by brick. On New Year’s Eve, I was searching through the homemade ravioli for the one I’d marked—the one hiding the custom engagement ring I bought for him—when the police called. They said my boyfriend had been in a bar fight. It was bad. I needed to go to the precinct. I braved the blizzard to get there. After bowing and apologizing profusely to the other party, I signed his release papers. Caleb reeked of cheap whiskey, his face bruised and purple. A young woman was clutching the hem of his coat, crying like a tragic heroine. “Caleb, thank you for standing up for me. My ex-husband is violent and has a temper… he’ll definitely keep harassing me. My son and I can’t hold on much longer.” “Little Oliver loves the ravioli you make. He waits every day for ‘Daddy Caleb’ to come keep him company. Caleb, please… give us a home.” I lost my mind. I smashed my phone right there in the station precinct and screamed at Caleb. It was the biggest fight we’d ever had. I questioned him hysterically. He called me heartless. Finally, he surrendered. He promised to transfer his female colleague to another department and never speak to her again. After that, Caleb never mentioned Tanya Brooks again. Their chat history showed nothing but professional exchanges. Until I discovered the second user profile on Caleb’s phone. They hadn’t stopped talking. They just moved from the light into the shadows where I couldn’t see. They moved from Caleb’s main account to a private one filled with close friends and relatives. Every photo he posted of him and that mother-son duo was met with sincere blessings from his family. I scrolled back to the chat logs from New Year’s Eve. Tanya: I found a ring in the ravioli. Was your girlfriend planning to propose? I should bring it back to you. Caleb: No need. Just pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now anyway. Fine. Let it be as he wishes. I’ve been away from home for six years. It’s time to go back. Chapter 1 Caleb was busy in the kitchen. “Summer, I’ve reheated the food three times, it might not taste great anymore.” “I can order takeout if you want, or we can go out. That Japanese place down the street is still…” He turned around and met my red-rimmed eyes. Caleb’s expression instantly softened. “Come on, babe, stop pouting.” “You’re always the understanding one, right?” I dodged his touch and said coldly: “Get the ravioli back.” Caleb’s smile froze. He untied his apron, balled it up, and threw it hard at my feet. He pointed a finger at my face, shaking it a few times, before gritting his teeth and saying, “Fine.” The call connected. Tanya said her son had already eaten the ravioli. “I’m so sorry. How much were they? I’ll pay you back.” Caleb looked humiliated. A plate of pasta, a never-ending farce. “It’s fine, Summer is just being childish. I’ll buy her more…” “Caleb, it’s not the same,” I interrupted. Suddenly, Caleb smashed his phone. The screen shattered, glass shrapnel flying. A piece grazed my arm, drawing blood. His voice boomed: “What the hell is your problem today?” “It’s just a damn plate of pasta, Summer. You’re being way too obvious with your jealousy against Tanya.” I stood there, stunned. Caleb pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it in my face. The bills fluttered down, mixed with three ticket stubs to Six Flags. “Is that enough?” He pulled out a credit card. Threw it. “Is that enough!” “I’ll pay for her!” My eardrums throbbed. In six years, this was the first time Caleb had ever exploded at me. He looked vicious, like he wanted to devour me. My chest ached so badly I couldn’t speak. I could only fumble through my phone gallery, desperate to find the video from five years ago where he promised he’d marry me on this exact date. He was the one who forgot. “Fine. Let’s both cool off tonight.” Caleb pushed my phone away. “Summer Vance, you need to reflect on your jealousy.” The door slammed shut. I began to dry heave uncontrollably. I clutched the fabric over my chest. It was the only way to relieve the suffocation. When I was done crying, done gasping for air, I picked myself up off the floor and started packing my meager belongings. Six years ago, I came here with nothing but courage. Six years later, I was leaving with nothing but loneliness. Tanya updated her Instagram Story. The caption: The happiest New Year. The background was a high-end steakhouse. Caleb was holding the child, and Tanya was leaning intimately against his side. While I was packing, they went for a feast. The table was full of food. The “dinner” Caleb was reheating in the kitchen earlier? It was their leftovers. It included shrimp—Tanya’s favorite, but a deadly allergen for me. He didn’t even think to pick it out when he was heating it up for me. Caleb’s assistant commented on the post: “Wow, that was fast. Tanya’s charm is no joke.” “Caleb preaches about being a bachelor at the office, but look at him bowing down to Queen Tanya.” The screen went black, reflecting my pale, ghostly face. My hands shook as I packed the last item. At the bottom of the suitcase lay the Greyhound bus ticket I bought six years ago to come to Minneapolis. Thirty-two hours on a bus. But my six years? To Caleb, they weren’t even real. Chapter 2 It’s laughable, really. After living in Minneapolis for so many years, I had no friends, no job, and the only money I had was what Caleb threw at me last night. I only learned how to revolve around him. I learned to make soup, to put him first, to empty my savings account just to buy him a $5,000 watch to see him smile. I was truly stupid. Stupid enough to hand over my heart without reservation, letting him bruise it. “One ticket to Austin, Texas, please.” The lady at the counter suddenly spoke up. “Hey? Aren’t you that girl from six years ago?” I looked up. My gray face finally regained some color. “You remember me?” The lady smiled. “Who wouldn’t remember you two?” “That boy waited outside the station for a day and a night. The snow piled up on his shoulders, he looked like an ice sculpture, but he wouldn’t leave, terrified he’d miss you.” “We told him to come inside and have some hot tea. The kid smiled awkwardly and said he was starting a business and had spent all his money on a gift for you. He couldn’t even afford a bus ride; he walked five hours to get to the station.” I listened, entranced. My chest felt tight and sour. From a condemned basement to a rental apartment, to the luxury condo we had now. The boy swallowed his suffering alone. With hands scarred by the cold, he picked up one brick at a time, building happiness, building a home. He had said, “We won’t fear the winter anymore.” “Summer, I was scared you’d come, but scared you wouldn’t.” “I was afraid you’d suffer with me.” “But I was more afraid you didn’t love me.” He cried that day. He held me so tight he almost rubbed me into his own body. I cried too. We were happy then. How did we flow from that happiness into this river of pain? “Miss? Your ticket.” My fingertips trembled. It felt like I wasn’t taking a ticket, but a knife to sever the past. “Don’t cry.” The ticket lady glanced at the expensive jade bangle on my wrist and seemed to relax a bit. “When you accompany a man from nothing to everything, don’t talk about feelings. Talk about money. Talk about whether he’s willing to be good to you.” I nodded. I crinkled the ticket in my grip. Before I could board, Caleb chased me down. Just like six years ago, he sprinted toward me and crushed me into a hug. I could hear his chaotic breathing, his rapid heartbeat, and his voice shaking into pieces: “Don’t go…” “Summer, I was just mad, I wasn’t kicking you out…” Caleb tore up my ticket, scooped me up into his arms, and shoved me into the passenger seat of his car. “You care about me seeing Tanya, right?” “I transferred her to a different team. I’ll keep my distance.” I stayed silent. I stared blankly at the car ornament dangling from the mirror—a gift from Tanya. The car smelled entirely of citrus—Tanya’s perfume. The glove box, which should have been filled with my things, was stuffed with snacks her kid liked and lipstick shades that weren’t mine. I blinked, my eyes feeling incredibly dry. Caleb didn’t notice anything wrong. He was rambling about taking me to Aspen for a vacation after the holidays. I sighed softly. I didn’t even have the energy to nod. Chapter 3 Caleb never mentioned Tanya again. Their texts were strictly business. Clean cut. “Summer, I’m running for Vice President, work is going to be crazy.” His voice came through the phone receiver. It didn’t feel real. “I wired money to your account. Go shopping, buy whatever you like. Don’t focus all your energy on me.” Every day he came home, I was asleep. When he left in the morning, I was still dreaming. The microwave held the breakfast he prepared. The dirty clothes I wore were washed and hung on the balcony. Caleb’s traces were everywhere in the house. I could see them. But I couldn’t touch them anymore. I could feel us drifting apart. The relationship had rusted. If you scrubbed off the rust, it might look the same as before. But it had lost its weight. It floated in the air, wobbling uncontrollably with the slightest breeze. I had planned to take the money and leave, but the biggest variable was that I got pregnant. At first, I was lethargic, had no appetite, and threw up constantly. I told Caleb. The next day he bought a huge bag of medicine and told me to take it, then rushed off without even a warning to check the labels. It wasn’t until I took the pills and felt awful that I went to the hospital and found out I was pregnant. “Whether we can keep the baby depends on further checks,” the doctor said, frowning. “You took a lot of antibiotics. There’s a risk of birth defects.” Two nurses had to carry me out. I spent the most agonizing six hours of my life outside that exam room. The back of my hand was bruised from pinching myself. My eyes were open, leaking moisture and guilt. I blamed myself for not realizing I was pregnant sooner. Why didn’t I check before taking the medicine? Why did I just swallow whatever Caleb handed me without a second thought? “For now, it looks okay. Come back next month for a checkup.” Relief washed over me. My mood improved, and I even ate an extra bowl of rice that night. Caleb didn’t come home until midnight. He reeked of alcohol. His cheek was cut and bleeding, and one eye was black and blue. “Did you get into a fight?” He mumbled something unintelligible and went straight to the bathroom. He threw his work phone on the bed. It pinged. Tanya: Caleb, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex would have kept harassing me. Tanya: I felt so helpless. If it weren’t for your company these past weeks, my son and I wouldn’t have made it. Oliver loves you. He waits for ‘Daddy Caleb’ every day. Caleb, please… give us a home. The text hit my nerves like a sledgehammer. It hurt. My insides felt like they were exploding. Daddy Caleb… Then who should my child call Daddy? Give them a home. What about my home? The home I had longed for since I was a child, the shelter from the storm—gone. Caleb tore it apart with his own hands. I bit the tip of my tongue, using the pain to force clarity, and scrolled through the entire chat history. They hadn’t stopped talking. They just moved from the open into the dark. I had been left behind again. Tanya: I found the ring in the ravioli. Was your girlfriend proposing? I’ll bring it back. Caleb: No need. Pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now. I couldn’t maintain my dignity anymore. Shaking, I typed a reply: You love being a homewrecker that much? You can have the trash, I don’t want it. “Summer Vance! What are you doing with my phone?”

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I sponsored Caleb Vance for ten years. From a trailer park nobody to Hollywood’s A-list heartthrob. Tonight was his big night—Best Actor at the Golden Screen Awards. I sat in the shadows of the mezzanine, genuinely happy for him. The host asked about his journey to fame, prompting him to thank someone special. Caleb gripped the golden trophy, his gaze sweeping the audience with laser precision until it landed on me. The spotlight hit me instantly. I blinked, blinded and flustered. But Caleb looked into the camera, his handsome face twisted in disgust. “I want to thank that woman up there,” he said, his voice dripping with venom, “for teaching me what harassment looks like.” “She claims to be my sponsor. For ten years, she has bombarded me with letters and stalked me to every event.” “Today, I just want to tell her: your delusions make me sick.” “I, Caleb Vance, earned this award myself. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.” The audience gasped. Twitter blew up instantly. Millions of insults flooded my notifications. But on the massive screen behind him, the credits for his production company began to roll. Founder & CEO: Victoria Sterling. That is my name. Chapter 1: Public humiliation “Omg, that’s her? She looks normal, but she’s a psycho stalker?” “Ten years? Yikes. Caleb is a saint for dealing with that.” “Gross. Keep that creep away from me.” I sat frozen in my seat. My phone vibrated violently in my clutch. I didn’t need to look to know that my face, tagged as “The Stalker,” was trending #1 nationwide. On stage, Caleb basked in the applause. He looked down at me, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of revenge. Security guards approached me as the ceremony awkwardly continued. I stood up. Under thousands of gazes filled with judgment and morbid curiosity, I walked toward the exit. As I passed the VIP row, a starlet in a pink haute couture gown suddenly stuck out her foot. I tripped, lurching forward and slamming my knees hard onto the carpeted floor. “Oops! Sorry about that… ma’am.” It was Bella Rose, the new “it girl” my company had just started promoting. She covered her mouth in mock surprise, but her eyes were curved into crescents of pure malice. “I didn’t mean to. Why were you walking so fast? Rushing to stalk someone else?” A ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the crowd. I pushed myself up, sharp pain shooting through my knees. A pair of polished dress shoes stopped in front of my face. Caleb. He looked down at me like I was a pile of garbage on the sidewalk. “Done making a scene?” His voice was low, but every word was a dagger. “Ms. Sterling, you’re embarrassing me.” I looked up. Under the stage lights, his face was flawless, but his words were colder than ice. “I warned you. Stop showing up in front of me.” Bella immediately clung to his arm, staking her claim. She whispered in a frightened, baby voice, “Caleb, don’t get mad. It’s not worth it. She’s so scary… what if she has a knife?” Caleb patted her hand gently. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” He looked back at me, his gaze freezing over. “Security, throw her out.” “From now on, this woman is banned from any event I attend.” Two burly guards grabbed my arms, their grip rough and humiliating. I was half-dragged toward the backstage exit. As we passed an empty dressing room, Caleb’s voice rang out from behind. “Wait.” The guards stopped. Caleb walked over and waved them away. The door clicked shut. In the narrow room, it was just the two of us. He dumped a heavy cardboard box at my feet. “These are those trash letters you wrote.” “I’m giving them back.” “I never read a single word.” Spilling out of the box were hundreds of letters I had written over the last decade. Every single one carried my hopes and encouragement for him. Now, he called them trash. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, whispering so only I could hear: “You know what? Every time I see your self-righteous face, I want to vomit.” “You think throwing some money at me makes you my savior?” “Let me tell you, Victoria. The thing I hate most is people looking at me like I’m a stray dog.” “Your cheap charity was the biggest insult of my life.” My body went rigid. He knew my name. He had known all along. “You…” “Surprised?” He straightened up, smiling cruelly. “I investigated you ages ago. You’re just a nobody running a small agency. Did you really think you were someone important?” He raised his hand as if to pat my face, then stopped mid-air as if touching me would dirty him. Instead, he flicked my collar with a finger. “Stop dreaming.” “We are not in the same world.” He turned and opened the door. Bella was waiting right outside. Seeing me, a flash of triumph crossed her eyes before she switched back to her innocent mask. “Caleb, let’s go. The after-party is starting.” “Yeah.” Caleb walked away without looking back. The door closed slowly in front of me. I looked at the letters scattered on the floor. The pain in my knees mixed with the pain in my chest. My phone finally stopped vibrating. I pulled it out. A text from my assistant, Leo. “Boss, the company website… it’s been hacked.” Chapter 2: The Truth I didn’t go home. I had the driver take me straight to the office. The skyscraper was empty at midnight, save for the lights in my corner office. Leo was pacing anxiously at the door. Seeing my torn dress and bruised knees, his eyes instantly reddened. “Boss, you…” “I’m fine.” I pushed the door open. “What does PR say?” “It’s useless.” Leo’s voice trembled. “It’s a coordinated attack. The bot farm is massive. Our statements get buried instantly. The whole internet is destroying you. They even doxxed the office address; people are threatening to protest tomorrow.” I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the traffic below. “Where is Caleb?” “The after-party… is still going. He and Bella are trending #1. The headline is ‘A Match Made in Heaven’.” Ironic. I built his throne with my own hands, and he climbed it just to hold another woman while trampling on my bones. Leo knelt to clean the wounds on my knees. The sting of the alcohol wipe snapped me back to reality. “Boss, let’s call the cops. This is defamation!” “Won’t work.” I shook my head. “He’s smart. He only said ‘that woman.’ He never named me. If I defend myself now, the public will just see it as a guilty stalker lashing out.” “Then… what do we do?” I didn’t answer. My gaze fell on a framed photo on my desk. It was ten years old. A scrawny boy in ill-fitting clothes, lips pressed into a stubborn line, eyes wild and fierce like a wolf cub. That was the first time I met Caleb. No, back then, his name was Cletus Miller. In that forgotten, poverty-stricken town in Appalachia, he had been cornered by a shopkeeper for stealing a sandwich. The man was beating him with a broom handle. Everyone called him “white trash,” the son of addicts, a thief. Only I walked over and paid the man. I asked him, “Why did you steal?” He didn’t speak. He just clutched the dirty, squashed sandwich to his chest. I learned later it was his little sister’s birthday. She hadn’t eaten in three days. I took him out of that hellhole. I gave him a new name: Caleb Vance. A name that sounded strong, clean, successful. I sent him to the best private schools. I paid for his life, his sister’s medical bills, everything. I wrote him letters telling him to stand tall, to read, to see the world. The day he got into drama school, he called me for the first time. His voice shook with excitement: “Vic! I got in! I’m going to make so much money. I’ll pay you back, I promise!” That nickname, “Vic”… I remembered it for years. When he entered Hollywood, to protect his ego and image, I established this agency. I used every connection I had to pave his road. I retreated behind the scenes, becoming the mysterious “Ms. Sterling.” I thought I was the person he trusted most. Turns out, it was just a one-woman show. My phone pinged. A DM from a verified account. It was Bella Rose. “Auntie Victoria, are you asleep? Sorry about tonight. Caleb is just so… honest. He hates liars.” “He says people like you, trying to hijack his life with a little charity, are disgusting.” “Oh, and Caleb said those letters you wrote made him feel dirty just looking at them. He burned the rest in the trash can backstage.” “Auntie, you should have some self-awareness. Don’t covet things that don’t belong to you. Right?” Every word was a poisoned needle. I turned off the phone and looked at Leo. “Notify Legal and PR. Mandatory board meeting. Tomorrow morning, 9:00 AM.” Leo paused. “Boss, are we…?” I looked at the black sky outside. “We are taking back everything I gave him.” Chapter 3: The Counterattack 8:50 AM. I arrived at the lobby. It was swarming with paparazzi. Flashbulbs went off like strobe lights. “Ms. Sterling, do you admit to stalking Caleb Vance?” “Is it true you used your money to harass him?” I put on my sunglasses, kept my face stone cold, and let security wedge a path to the executive elevator. As the doors closed, I heard someone scream, “Don’t let her run! Expose the pervert!” 9:00 AM. I pushed open the conference room doors. The entire executive team, Legal, and HR were present. My seat—the head of the table—was empty. But sitting right next to it were Caleb, his agent Mark, and Bella Rose. Seeing me, Mark’s face darkened. “How did you get in here? Who let her in?” Bella let out a dramatic gasp and hid behind Caleb. “Caleb! She… she followed us to the company! Is she going to hurt you?” Her voice was sugary sweet, painting me as a monster. Caleb patted her back, then lifted his eyes to me. Pure disgust. “You again. What the hell do you want?” “Was humiliating yourself on national TV not enough? Now you chase me to my agency? Have you no shame?” I ignored him and walked straight toward the head of the table. Mark jumped up, blocking my path, chest puffed out. “Ma’am, this is a private board meeting. Get out before I call the cops!” “Yeah, throw her out!” Bella peeked out, grinning viciously. “She’s insane! The CEO, Ms. Sterling, will be here any minute. You don’t want her to see this trash!” “Ms. Sterling?” I repeated the name softly, a dry laugh escaping my lips. I scanned the room. The executives looked down or stared at their iPads. They knew who I was, but nobody spoke. Cowardice is human nature. Caleb was the company’s cash cow. I was currently the most hated woman in America. Caleb leaned back, crossing his legs, looking at me with charity. “Look, you helped me a few times back in the day. I won’t press charges for last night.” He pulled a black Amex card from his wallet and flicked it onto the table. “There’s a hundred grand on this. Take it and vanish. Don’t let me see you again.” A hundred grand. That wouldn’t even cover one month of his sister’s dialysis treatments I paid for years ago. Bella squealed. “Wow, Caleb, you’re a saint! She stalked you, and you give her money? You’re too kind!” She picked up the card and tried to shove it into my hand. “Hear that, Auntie? A hundred grand. Enough for a nobody like you to live on for years. Take it and roll.” I didn’t take it. Her hand froze in mid-air. “What? Not enough? Don’t be greedy.” Caleb lost his patience. “Security!” he barked. “Get this woman out of my sight! Now!” Two guards rushed in. The room watched in silence. In their eyes, I was a dead dog being kicked to the curb. I finally lifted my eyes, looking past the circus to Leo. “Leo.” My voice was calm. Leo nodded, picked up the conference phone. “Get Mr. Henderson from Legal and Director Lee from HR up here. Also, tell security to remove these trespassers.” I pointed at the guards who had just rushed in. The room went deadly silent. Chapter 4: Identity Revealed The silence was suffocating. The guards stood confused, looking between Caleb and me. Mark laughed, a nervous, barking sound. “You? Who do you think you are? Summoning legal? Do you think you’re the boss?” Bella giggled, her body shaking. “Caleb, did you hear that? She’s roleplaying CEO now! She’s totally lost it!” She turned to Leo, snarling. “And you! A little assistant playing along with a psycho? You’re fired! Get out!” Leo went pale but stood his ground behind me. Only Caleb didn’t laugh. He narrowed his eyes, studying my calm face, looking for a crack. “What game are you playing?” I didn’t answer. I looked at the head of security. “Did you not hear me?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority. The head guard exchanged a glance with his partner, then nervously stepped toward me. “Ma’am, please don’t make this difficult…” The doors swung open. Mr. Henderson, the chief counsel, and Director Lee walked in. Mark beamed, rushing to them. “Henderson! Lee! Thank God. This crazy woman broke in. Get rid of her!” Bella ran to Director Lee. “Director, fire that assistant too! He’s helping the stalker!” The two executives ignored them completely. They walked straight to me. In front of everyone, they bowed slightly. “Ms. Sterling. Sorry we’re late.” Those two words hit the room like a bomb. Mark’s jaw unhinged. Bella’s smug smile froze, then shattered into pure terror. She began to tremble. And Caleb… The disgust, the arrogance, the pity—it all vanished. His face went blank with shock. His pupils dilated. He stared at me like he was seeing a ghost. The world seemed to stop spinning. I walked slowly, step by step, to the head of the table. Mark, who was blocking the chair, stood paralyzed. I stopped in front of him. “Move.” His knees buckled. He practically crawled out of the way. I touched the cold leather of the CEO’s chair. Then, I sat down. I slid a file across the mahogany table toward Caleb. The title was bold and clear: NOTICE OF CONTRACT TERMINATION. Caleb’s eyes locked onto the signature line at the bottom. The printed name. Victoria Sterling. He started to shake. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Ms… Sterling?” He choked the name out. “You… you are Victoria?” I leaned back, lacing my fingers together, looking at him like a stranger. “Mr. Vance. Is there a problem?” “No… impossible…” He shook his head like a madman. “Impossible… you’re just…” “Just what?” I cut him off, ice in my voice. “The stalker? The delusional fan? The ‘disgusting’ woman you threw a hundred grand at?” Every word drained more blood from his face. Bella had collapsed into a chair, unable to speak. I turned to Director Lee. “Director, announce the personnel changes.” Lee cleared his throat, opening a folder. “Effective immediately, Mark Davis is relieved of his duties as Talent Director. Bella Rose’s contract is terminated for breach of morality clauses and damaging company reputation. We will be suing for damages.” “As for Mr. Caleb Vance…” Lee paused, looking at me. I tapped the termination notice. I smiled at Caleb. It was the first time I smiled in three days. “Caleb. You said your success had nothing to do with me, right?” “Good.” “Now, give back everything you took from me. With interest.”

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On New Year’s Day, I received a document titled: Year-End Performance Review Regarding Me and Your Husband. Item 1: Annual KPI: Sleep with your husband 150 times. Status: Exceeded target. Item 2: Convince your husband to buy me a villa and a luxury car. Status: Completed. Item 3: Get your son to call me “Mom” ten times a day. Status: Exceeded target. Item 4: Bravely stand before you and fight for my happiness. Status: Achieved today. “Mrs. Sterling, I serve your husband in bed and take care of your son. Are you going to give me a year-end bonus? or are you going to step down gracefully?” She attached a photo labeled “Family Portrait.” In the picture, Lucas Sterling is holding her waist, and my seven-year-old son stands happily in front of them. This woman is my son’s piano teacher. Lucas came home and saw this unique year-end summary on my iPad. He looked nervous but quickly pivoted to defense: “Don’t go after her. I fell for her first. She didn’t do anything wrong.” “You can punish me however you want. I can give you any compensation.” My blood ran cold. I stared into his eyes and said: “I just want you to go back to how you were.” Back to the broke, unloved boy with nothing to his name. He misunderstood completely. He let out a sigh of relief. “Even with her, I won’t neglect you, Evelyn.” … He paused, then added: “Since you know about Chloe and me, let’s have her spend the holidays with us this year.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I froze, unable to believe this was the man I had loved for fifteen years. How could he be this entitled? In his eyes, my silence was interpreted as gentle compliance. Lucas raised his hand, trying to ruffle my hair affectionately like he used to. I stepped back in disgust, my eyes stinging. I swallowed the bitterness and said: “Do whatever you want. I have experiments to run over the holidays.” From this moment on, neither father nor son would appear in my life ever again. Outwardly, I was calm and rational. Inside, my heart had shattered beyond repair. I turned and walked upstairs. Behind me, I heard Lucas muttering sourly: “You always put your experiments first. I’m always ranked behind your lab work.” Suddenly, he raised his voice, adopting a joking tone directed at my back: “Honey, were you secretly hoping I’d cheat so you’d have more time for work?” I stopped and looked back at him. He was smiling. When I didn’t respond, he added: “I thought you’d make a huge scene. I didn’t expect you to still be thinking about your experiments at a time like this.” I asked him, “If I asked you to cut ties with her completely, could you do it?” His smile vanished, replaced by seriousness: “Do you want the truth or the lie?” “The truth.” He answered without hesitation: “I can’t. Just like you can never give up your experiments.” He paused, a look of regret crossing his face: “If you hadn’t poured all your energy and time into the lab and ignored my needs… Chloe wouldn’t exist between us.” Ha. So his cheating is my fault? I spend my days in the lab developing new products for his pharmaceutical company, making him a leader in the industry, and that’s my sin? Since he has forgotten where he came from… I will personally send him back there. I immediately texted my lawyer: “Draft the divorce papers.” “Also, regarding all my patents and research findings—Sterling Pharmaceuticals is prohibited from using them effective immediately.” Living too comfortably really does make a man lose himself. His phone rang. Although he lowered his voice, I could hear it was Chloe Summers. He was coaxing her: “It’s fine. She didn’t make a scene. Her mind is on her experiments; she doesn’t care about me.” “Don’t send things like that again. No more pranks.” “Yes, you can come over for the holidays. I’ll satisfy you… from the living room to the bedroom.” Chapter 2 Every word was a dagger to the heart. Yet, as much as it hurt, I didn’t cry. Only my trembling hands, my suffocating throat, and my churning stomach told me I was enduring inhumane psychological torture. My lawyer replied: “I need seven business days. Please give me a little time.” Seven days. Usually, when I’m immersed in the lab, seven days feels like a blink of an eye. Now, it felt like years. I looked at my hands, bleached pale from chemicals, and my eyes, highly myopic from straining over microscopes. And the tinnitus caused by lab equipment noise. All this desperate sacrifice felt like a joke. I remembered ten years ago when the company was founded. He had no money to buy patents and no way to produce drugs. He was so anxious his hair started turning gray. As a pharmaceutical research grad, I buried myself in the lab so he would have products to sell. Years of grueling research gave him the empire he has today. He used to say I was the vital artery of his life. Hilarious. Since he doesn’t cherish the sweet fruit of our labor, I’ll just have to sever that artery. I went to the lab in the middle of the night and dismissed the entire team. Looking at the empty lab, I felt a mix of emotions. Ping. The notification sound cut through the silence. It was a provocative message from Chloe. The photo showed her bare shoulders in bed next to Lucas, who was asleep. “Mrs. Sterling, I took care of your husband for you again.” “Lucas said you support us being together. So, big sister, how about that year-end bonus?” “After all, serving a man is physical labor. Lucas acted like he’d never seen a woman before.” “You have no idea how hard he goes on me.” “Sister, I worked so hard. Send me a little bonus, won’t you?” Blood rushed to my head. I used a burner phone to record a video of the messages as evidence and sent it to my lawyer. My silence was interpreted by Chloe as weakness. Then, my son, Leo, was suddenly hospitalized with a fever. When I rushed to the hospital, Chloe was opening a bowl of steaming porridge. She said to Leo, “Good boy, listen to me. Even if you have no appetite, you have to eat a little to get better.” Lucas stood aside, hands in his pockets, shifting his adoring gaze from Chloe to Leo. “See? Look how much your mom loves you.” It felt like a knife twisting in my gut. We weren’t even divorced yet, and he was telling our son to call another woman “Mom.” “Yeah, Mom loves me the best!” Leo’s voice, full of happiness, delivered the fatal blow. My blood froze. Hearing my son call Chloe “Mom” made my breath catch in my throat. Chloe saw me. Her eyes flashed with defiance before she switched to a gentle, natural tone: “Evelyn, you’re here. You feed him.” Leo didn’t give me a second glance. He whined to Chloe: “I want you to feed me, Mom. I like it when you do it.” He glanced at me, his tone filled with disdain: “She only knows how to do experiments. She doesn’t know how to take care of people.” “Dad and I like it better when you take care of us.” My expression turned cold. I stared at Leo. “What did you call her?” Chloe pretended to be understanding, trying to trigger me: “Evelyn, don’t hold it against Leo. He’s only six.” “It’s just a title. He’s just babbling. Don’t take it to heart.” Chapter 3 Lucas stepped between Leo and me to mediate. “The boy isn’t feeling well today. Don’t make him more miserable.” He reached out to touch my back, guiding me toward the door. “Alright, go back to your lab. Chloe is here to take care of him. You don’t need to worry.” A wave of nausea hit me. I shoved Lucas’s arm away. “Don’t touch me!” He froze, surprised that I lost my temper. I was always the emotionally stable one. I rarely got angry. Leo was scared by my outburst and started wailing. Chloe fake-comforted me: “Evelyn, you scared Leo. If you’re mad, take it out on me.” “The child is innocent. Don’t hurt him, okay?” I held onto one obsession. I stared at the crying Leo and asked him: “Who do you call Mom?” I had bargained with myself a thousand times. If he said he wouldn’t call Chloe “Mom,” I would forgive him. I would take him with me when I divorced. But what I heard was Leo crying and accusing me: “You are Mom, and Auntie Chloe is Mom too.” “I like her. She treats me well. She takes care of me and teaches me piano.” “Unlike you. You only care about your experiments. This Mom is just better than you!” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. Lucas dragged me out into the hallway and yelled: “Why are you taking it out on the kid?!” “What does a child know?” “We don’t need you here. Go back to your lab!” With that, he turned and went back into the ward, locking the door from the inside to stop me from making a scene. That night, my mother-in-law came to lecture me. “Evelyn, you are a good woman and a good daughter-in-law. I’ve always approved of you.” She held my hand, patting it gently, her tone softening. “But men… which one doesn’t have a wandering eye?” “Chloe can help you take care of him, and she can take care of Leo.” “Actually, if you open your mind, you’ll see this is a good thing.” “You don’t have to serve your husband or look after your son. You just need to focus on your research. Isn’t that wonderful?” My heart was colder than ice. I showed no emotion as I pulled my hand away. “Fine. I won’t interfere with them.” My mother-in-law’s eyes lit up with joy, thinking she had successfully brainwashed me. She laughed and patted my back. “I knew it. You are absolutely a reasonable, good woman.” She was delighted and immediately ordered the maid to clean out the guest bedroom next to mine for Chloe. She didn’t even try to hide it when she called Chloe: “Chloe, move in tonight. The room is ready.” “The holidays are coming up. The sooner you move in, the livelier it will be. With you here, I’ll finally have someone to go shopping with.” Chapter 4 When Lucas brought Chloe home, I was just heading out. Seeing my grim expression, Chloe feigned embarrassment and pity. “Evelyn, you look unhappy. Maybe I shouldn’t live here.” I said coldly, “This is the Sterling house. Live here as long as you want. I won’t interfere.” I quickened my pace. Lucas chased after me and grabbed my wrist. “Do you really have no objection? If you mind, I can live elsewhere with Chloe.” I pulled my hand back. My heart was dead ashes, yet my voice remained calm. “I just have some work to handle. Regarding you and Chloe, I really have no opinion.” He sighed in relief, his tone softening. “Okay. You go get busy. Call me when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up.” He really thought he was a master of balancing act. After leaving the house, I never went back. On December 20th, Lucas’s company held its annual holiday gala. He invited everyone. Except me. It just so happened that I was running errands and passed the venue. I saw Lucas holding Chloe’s hand, and Chloe holding my son’s hand, walking onto the stage to give a speech. In everyone’s eyes, they were a happy family of three. Lucas held the microphone, his tone joyful and sincere: “This year, the company and I personally have gained so much.” “Here, I want to thank my wife. She has given me so much support and warmth.” My eyes felt like they were being pricked with needles. Even though my heart was dead, seeing this made it ache all over again. She is his wife? She gave him support? These words were like heavy slaps to my face, one after another. The microphone was handed to Leo. He smiled innocently and happily at Chloe: “The person I want to thank most is also my Mom.” “Thank you, Mom, for giving me so much love. I love you, Mom.” He hugged Chloe. The applause below was thunderous. The whispers about the “happy family” boiled like water. Only Chloe, up on stage, saw me. When I turned to leave the banquet hall, she ran out alone to confront me. “Evelyn Vance, you really can endure, can’t you?” “Even this, and you didn’t crash the party?” “I know you don’t dare to tear off the mask because you’re afraid of leaving the Sterling family and losing this luxurious life.” “Do you think just by enduring, you can keep the position of Mrs. Sterling?” I sneered and said to her: “Just wait and see.” She looked triumphant, mocking me. “Wait and see? Bring it on!” “Your son, your husband, they’ve announced my identity to the world!” “I’d like to see what you have to fight me with!” I ignored her and walked faster. Soon she would know that what she was fighting for was nothing but a pile of mud. On Christmas Eve, the Sterling house was decorated vividly. Every year, I personally cooked the holiday dinner. Lucas finally remembered to call me, but no one answered after several attempts. He felt inexplicably anxious. Chloe, ever the understanding one, said: “Honey, it’s my first Christmas at home. Let me show off my cooking skills.” “Evelyn is probably busy in the lab again. Once I’m done cooking, you can call her to come back and eat.” Lucas looked normal on the surface, but panic was rising in his chest. By the time Chloe finished a table full of food, Lucas still hadn’t gotten through to my phone. The butler brought him a courier envelope. “From the Madam.” Lucas opened the file. The words DIVORCE AGREEMENT struck him like lightning. At that moment, his assistant called, voice trembling with panic: “Mr. Sterling, it’s bad. The Madam has revoked the rights to all her patents. Without these patents, the company can’t operate.”

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It was the end of the year, and bonus season had just hit. I decided to splurge and sent a surprise gift to my boyfriend’s office. The tracking notification popped up on my phone: Delivered. Yet, hours passed, and he didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until the next day that he finally sent a hesitant voice note. “…Babe, did you buy me a gift?” He sounded incredibly unsure, almost nervous. A sudden instinct to test him bubbled up. I half-joked, “No. Why? Did someone else buy you a gift?” He laughed it off awkwardly. “Maybe it was sent by mistake, or from another friend… I’ll ask around.” My heart went cold. Ask around? Who else would be sending him a set of couple’s rings? 1 Realizing something was off, I pressed him intentionally. “What kind of gift was it?” Ethan stammered. “…Nothing expensive. Just a pair of sneakers.” He was lying again. My heart trembled. The line went dead before I could say anything else. I was restless all day. I knew this wasn’t simple. When he came home that night, he acted perfectly normal. It was as if the afternoon’s conversation never happened. I brought it up on purpose. “Where are the sneakers? Let me see them.” He froze for a second. “What sneakers?” Then he recovered. “Oh, those. It was a colleague’s order sent to my desk by mistake. I already gave them back.” He immediately changed the subject. “I’m going to take a shower. We can talk later.” He walked into the bathroom, gripping his phone tightly in his hand. Even when we went to bed, the phone never left his side. He had a privacy screen protector, so I couldn’t see a thing. I swallowed my anxiety and waited. Finally, I heard the soft rhythm of his snoring. Holding my breath like a thief in my own home, I slid his phone out from under his pillow. I used his thumb to unlock it. In eight years together, this was the first time I had ever checked his phone. His texts and WhatsApp were clean. Too clean. I trusted my gut. I swiped up to see his recently used apps. Aside from the usual social media, I saw an app he hadn’t used in years—Discord. driven by some invisible force, I opened it. The chat list was empty. He had cleared the history. But I knew Discord’s search function could sometimes pull up cached logs. I typed “Ring” into the search bar. A recent chat log appeared immediately. …Found it. My fingertips trembled as I clicked on it. My heart felt like it had been stabbed. Right after Ethan asked me about the gift this morning, he immediately messaged a user named “Chloe_XO”. Because I denied sending it, he assumed the gift was from her. Ethan: Babe, the gift arrived. Chloe_XO: …What gift? Ethan: The couple’s rings. Chloe_XO: What rings? What are you talking about? Ethan didn’t reply for a long time. He must have realized that if neither I nor Chloe sent them, he was in trouble. He started spinning a lie to cover his tracks. Ethan: My project bonus came in. I bought us a pair of couple’s rings. It’s my surprise for you. She replied instantly. Chloe_XO: Thank you, hubby! <3 She added a cute sticker of a bear hugging a heart. I felt dizzy, the room spinning around me. Ethan was cheating. He had a mistress. But a few seconds later, I clicked on Chloe's profile picture, and that theory crumbled. Her profile picture was a wedding photo. And the groom was Ethan. They... were already married? I wasn't the girlfriend being cheated on. I was the mistress. 2 I didn't sleep a wink. I didn't confront Ethan immediately. instead, I pretended I knew nothing. After he left for work, I called in sick. I drove straight to the address mentioned in their chat history history—a house in the suburbs. I stood at the door for a long time, building up the courage to ring the bell. A little boy, maybe five or six years old, opened the door. He looked at me curiously, then turned back and yelled, "Mom... someone's here." My heart was in my throat. Chloe finally appeared. She looked just like her wedding photo, though tired. She wore loose loungewear, no makeup. Her belly was visibly rounded. She was at least six months pregnant. In her hand, she held a bunch of unwashed vegetables. She looked like the quintessential wife waiting for her husband to return. My gaze drifted down to her hand. On her finger sat a diamond band. It was the female ring from the set I had sent Ethan. "Can I... help you?" she asked, looking confused as she pulled her son close. My throat felt like it was filled with sand. "Do you know Ethan Miller?" Before Chloe could speak, the little boy chirped up. "Ethan is my Daddy! Do you have work stuff for my Daddy?" Chloe smiled politely. "Ethan is my husband." The sky crashed down on me. I could barely stand. "...How long have you been married?" Chloe frowned slightly. "Who... are you?" "I..." Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was Ethan. I declined it. He called again. And again. When I finally answered, Ethan's voice was dark and terrifying. "Sarah, leave my house right now!" I gritted my teeth. "Why should I? I'm going to get to the bottom of this today!" "I'll tell you everything you want to know," he hissed, panic seeping in. "Just don't stress Chloe out. She's pregnant. If anything happens to the baby, you can't handle the consequences." His voice was full of threats. He sounded like a stranger. In front of me, Chloe still looked confused. "Do you need something from my husband? He's at work. He won't be back until seven." "Are you a friend of his? Why don't you stay for dinner? I made extra." She smiled warmly. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest. She was pregnant. Innocent. If I caused a scene now, and she miscarried... I don't remember how I left. As soon as I got downstairs to the parking lot, I saw Ethan sprinting toward me like a madman. He had been watching me through their doorbell camera. "You... you didn't say anything to Chloe, did you?" "She's carrying my child, Sarah. I'm begging you, don't hurt her, okay?" "If you have anger, take it out on me." His face was full of pleading. He looked like he was about to cry. To maintain a shred of dignity, I said, "Let's go back to my place." The moment we walked through my door, he dropped to his knees. Thud. "Sarah, I'm sorry. Hit me, curse at me, just please calm down!" "...So the child is yours? Chloe is really your wife?" He wept, nodding his head, his face buried in his hands. I swayed on my feet. "So, which one of us is the mistress?" 3 He was silent for a long time. Finally, the truth came out. We had been together for eight years. In our second year, he started sleeping with Chloe. "You were sent to London for that assignment... eighteen months. We were apart. I'm a man, Sarah, I have needs." "Chloe was an intern at my company. She confessed to me first..." "The first time, I was drunk. I pretended she was you. I didn't think one time would result in a pregnancy." "You know my parents were pressuring me to settle down. I knew you were focused on your career, and because of your parents' divorce, you were terrified of marriage. I didn't want to force you... and Chloe was pregnant, so..." I laughed. A dry, humorless sound. "So you married her?" He nodded silently. "Sarah, but I love you. Chloe is just a responsibility... you have to believe me!" He tried to grab my hand. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I shoved him away. This man was a stranger. While I was in London for a year and a half, we FaceTimed every day. He reported his location constantly. Whenever he had a holiday, he flew to see me. I remember one Valentine's Day. He had a 102-degree fever but flew across the ocean just to stand under my apartment building and surprise me. I stood there in the snow, moved to tears by his pale face and his declarations of love. But that same year... He not only cheated, but he also started a whole other family. He played me like a fool. For the next six years, every "business trip" or "overtime" was spent in that suburban house. Earlier this year, he and Chloe conceived their second child. The happiness I thought I had was more fragile than a soap bubble. It was all fake. "Sarah..." Ethan was hyperventilating from crying so hard. "Please forgive me. I really can't live without you!" I looked at him, feeling nothing but irony. "You still want to be with me?" He nodded frantically. "What about your wife and kids?" "I already discussed it with Chloe. We have an open marriage. She won't interfere with my life." "As long as you don't go to her, don't bother her, she won't trouble us." I smiled. Then I yanked my hand away. "Ethan, do you think this is the 1800s? You want a harem?" "Get out!" I grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the table and smashed it on the floor. "Get the hell out of my house!" I used every ounce of strength to shove him out the door. He pounded on it for a while, begging. Then, silence. Followed by a dry, awkward voice through the wood. He dropped the act. "Sarah, my son has a fever. He needs his dad. I have to go..." And then, he was gone. My head spun. I broke out in a cold sweat. I checked my temperature. 104 degrees. I collapsed onto the sofa and passed out. When I woke up, it was the next morning. Ethan hadn't come back. I was fully awake now. The fever had burned away the delusions. I couldn't stay in this sick triangle. I needed to cut Ethan out like a tumor. I remembered seeing Chloe's user ID on Discord. I sent a friend request. I got straight to the point: [Do you know Ethan is living a double life? We need to meet.] A long time later, she replied: [Okay.] I went to her house again. This time, as soon as I walked in, I asked her to unplug the security cameras. I laid it all out. "He lied to both of us. We are both victims here. We need to team up and make him pay." Chloe listened quietly, her expression bland. "Are you done?" "Sarah, did you really think I didn't know you existed?"

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My husband started tracking expenses on his phone. One day, I curiously opened his annual spending report from a popular finance app. The first few pages were lighthearted and fun, and I was smiling as I scrolled. Until I saw two lines of text: [Your most frequently used note is: “Extra cilantro, extra green onions.”] [Your longest note is: “Boss, please make sure this bouquet is perfect. Confirm the address. Do not mess this up.”] I don’t eat cilantro. I don’t eat green onions. And I have never received a bouquet from him. Not once. I scrolled down further. [February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Total spending: $540. Largest single transaction: $299 at the Hyatt Regency, King Suite.] I remembered Valentine’s Day clearly. I was out of town on a business trip. Before bed, we had a quick FaceTime. We even lamented that it was our first Valentine’s Day apart. He was lying in our bed at home when we spoke. I opened his order history. I couldn’t find any of these transactions. I checked his messages, calls, contacts. Nothing suspicious. He walked by just as the screen returned to the spending report page. He laughed. “Find anything interesting? Did you confirm your husband is indeed the perfect man?” I nodded and played along. “Truly perfect.” I turned away and used his phone to send a message to his “Bros” group chat: “Guess who I’m with tonight?” Chapter 1 I sent the message right in front of Mark. He gave me a teasing look but didn’t say much. Replies came in fast: “Who else would you be with? You whipped simp!” “Bro, showing off again? You’re blinding us single dogs. Can we still hang out later?” “I swear, man! Only you let your wife control you like this.” “Kick him out of the chat. I can’t take it anymore. Add him back when I get married so he can send a red packet.” Mark smiled, a look of indulgent resignation on his face. “Happy now? They’re going to roast me again. They already call me a ‘wife slave’ every day.” He didn’t notice my hands were shaking. The realization that “Mark cheated” hit me like a physical blow. I was completely unprepared. We never had secrets. We shared passwords for everything. I never thought this day would come. I always believed that when feelings fade, there’s a process. It shouldn’t be a sudden, bludgeoning strike like this. The fact that he handed me his phone so confidently meant he was extremely confident in his cover-up. If I kept digging now, I’d expose myself. So I handed the phone back, pretending to be relaxed. “Congratulations, you passed the organization’s test. You’re clear for now.” He looked a little smug. “Yes, ma’am! I’ll keep up the good work. Mission: Happy Family Life is a go!” His expression was too natural. His performance was flawless. If I hadn’t seen that annual report with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have suspected him at all. Chapter 2 The next day, Mark left the house at his usual time. Six months ago, he lost a promotion opportunity because of a minor fender bender that made him late for a crucial meeting. Since then, he started leaving thirty minutes early to account for any unexpected traffic. It seemed like a logical, responsible change. But now, I sensed something off. Mark loved to sleep in. Would he really sacrifice thirty minutes of sleep every single day just because of one incident? Other people might. But Mark, with his ego, probably wouldn’t. He had quickly regained that lost promotion opportunity anyway. Within six months, he climbed even higher than he had originally planned. I called out to him just as he reached the garage. I smiled. “I forgot to get gas yesterday. Can you drop me off at my office today?” His expression went blank for a split second, but he recovered quickly. “Sure.” Before getting in, I held out my hand. “Give me your phone to order coffee. Mine is buried in my bag. We can pick it up on the way.” This time, he hesitated visibly. I blinked. “What’s wrong? You don’t want coffee today? Then I’ll just order for myself.” He finally spoke. “No, I actually just ordered. There was a BOGO deal, so I got two. Check if there’s anything else you want.” His “Pick Up” order showed two Americanos already ready. I quickly scrolled through his order history. He had deleted even this order from the history log. When a man wants to cheat, his attention to detail is terrifying. I never do anything without a reason. This order proved that either in the car or near his office, these two people were going to meet. Otherwise, the thirty-minute time gap and the extra coffee didn’t make sense. Halfway there, I asked him to stop so I could buy a bagel. I spent the whole ride scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Mark was visibly anxious. And I was waiting for the phone call that was destined to come. Chapter 3 Sure enough, three minutes before 8:30 AM, Mark’s phone rang. I felt his body give a slight tremor. The moment he picked up, he spoke quickly: “Hey Joe, what’s up this early? I’m driving your sister-in-law to work.” I looked at him with a half-smile. Then I heard the voice on the other end: “Oh, nothing, Mr. Miller. Sorry to disturb you and your wife. I’ll ask you about it when you get to the office.” I spoke up directly. “No bother. If it’s important, just say it. Don’t let me hold up your work.” The person on the other end clearly hadn’t prepared an excuse. He stammered for a while before saying, “It’s better if we look at the data together, Mr. Miller. It’s hard to explain over the phone.” After hanging up, Mark complained, “These young kids are so reckless. Knowing it’s hard to explain over the phone, they still call so early. It’s exhausting working with people like this.” As we approached the next intersection, I reminded him, “Turn left. Go to your office first. You’re going to be late. I’ll take an Uber from there.” Mark seemed reluctant. “I rarely get to drive you. It’s not that far. Let me drop you off. It’s hard to get an Uber during rush hour.” “It’s fine. If being late affects your promotion again, I don’t want to be the stumbling block on your road to success.” Seeing my expression wasn’t great, he didn’t push it. He turned the wheel and headed toward his office. When we arrived at the parking garage, I was getting ready to get out when a lipstick rolled out from under the seat. I bent down to pick it up but couldn’t reach it. Just then, the passenger door was suddenly pulled open. A crisp voice rang out: “Mr. Miller! You definitely didn’t have time to get me coffee today, right? I brought my own! You didn’t tell me you weren’t picking me up, I waited forever!” Chapter 4 As soon as she finished speaking, she saw me squatting on the ground picking up the lipstick. She froze. Mark, sitting in the driver’s seat, also froze. I straightened up, put the lipstick in my bag, and held up an earring I had found under the seat. I said to Mark, “Someone lost an earring in your car. Remember to give it back.” It was a moon-shaped stud. Nothing special. But coincidently, the girl who opened the door was wearing a similar one—a star. Clearly from the same set. I smiled at the girl, signaling her to move so I could get out. She stepped back two paces. Mark had already walked over from the driver’s side. The girl looked at Mark cautiously. But Mark didn’t even glance at her. He walked straight toward me. She started to say, “Mr.—” Mark cut her off without looking back. “Go to the office. We’ll talk later.” The girl walked away, looking back every few steps. Even at the elevator, she craned her neck to watch us. Mark tried to take my hand. I dodged him. He sighed. “Are you misunderstanding something?” I laughed. “BOGO deal for two coffees?” “Not picking her up and not calling to tell her?” “Not meeting up, but she runs anxiously to the parking garage to wait for you?” “Mark, I trust you, but do you think I’m an idiot?” Mark didn’t speak. He just stubbornly tried to hold my hand again. Just like every time we argued before. As if holding hands brought us closer, letting us draw strength from each other to solve conflicts calmly. This was the way we had dealt with things for eight years. We relied on it to solve countless conflicts and calm countless angers. But we both knew, this time was different.

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After five years of living apart for work, my husband suddenly bought our son a pair of size 8 toddler shoes. But our son is ten years old. He wears a size 4. I treated it as a joke and posted a picture of the tiny shoes next to my son’s feet on Instagram. The comments section exploded immediately. “He obviously got the address mixed up. That’s for his secret family’s kid.” “Getting the size wrong by a little is excusable, but this? Following for updates!” “Your husband has a new son, honey.” “The internet detectives are never wrong. Waiting for the update where you slap him in the face!” 01 Reading the comments, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I quickly typed a reply: “My husband said the seller shipped the wrong item!” The comments poured in: “Make him post the screenshot!” “Screenshots can be faked. You need to see his order history in person.” The voices of suspicion grew louder. It was just a photo. Simple enough. Besides, it would give me something to talk about with my husband, Mark, since we lived in different cities and ran out of topics often. I sent a text: “Honey, send me a screenshot of the order for those shoes.” Status: Read. A long time passed. No reply. My stomach dropped. Could the internet strangers be right? I immediately shook my head. No. Impossible. Even though we were long-distance, we FaceTimed every day. Our relationship was solid. He would never betray me. But then, things got weird. From the moment I asked for the screenshot, he went MIA. Calls were rejected or rang endlessly. My anxiety spiked. When I got home, my mother-in-law had already picked up our son, Lucas, and dinner was on the table. At the dinner table, I brought up the shoe mix-up as a funny story. “Mom, look at this. Mark bought Lucas these tiny shoes.” Unexpectedly, my mother-in-law looked at the two pairs of shoes. Instead of laughing, her face grew heavy, like she was holding back words. After a silence, she laughed awkwardly. “Oh, you young people and your online shopping. I don’t understand any of it.” She finished her food quickly and started mopping the floor. But while she mopped, she kept glancing at the door. Something was wrong. Usually, when I got home from work, she would leave immediately, saying my father-in-law was waiting for her to cook. So, what was she waiting for today? Just then, a knock came at the door. “Courier pickup for a return?” My mother-in-law dropped the mop, grabbed the box of toddler shoes, and rushed to the door. “Yes, yes. Returning the shoes.” 02 The woman who just claimed she didn’t understand online shopping handled the return code perfectly. Then, she put on her shoes. “Alright, I have to go make dinner for your dad. Tomorrow is Saturday, I’ll pick Lucas up from school Monday afternoon.” I was about to grab her arm and ask what was going on when the security camera on the wall rotated. That meant Mark was watching us right now. “Mom, drive safe.” She left without looking back. I smiled and told Lucas to keep eating. A moment later, my phone rang. I thought it was Mark. Instead, my father-in-law’s booming voice filled the speaker. “Why are you so difficult? What other daughter-in-law has it as easy as you?” “Mark leaves his parents and child behind to work out of state and make money, giving you his paycheck.” “Your mother goes over every day, picks up the kid, cooks, cleans. She’s basically a servant.” “And you? All you do is stir up trouble every day. Is there no end to it?” Before he could finish, I heard a door open on his end, followed by my mother-in-law’s cheerful voice. “Hey, old man! Call your son, tell him the problem is perfectly solved—” My father-in-law cut her off instantly. “What took you so long? I thought you were suffering over there because of those damn shoes… Don’t talk yet, I’m on the phone with Lucas’s mom.” The voice was faint. He probably thought covering the receiver would block the sound, but I heard it clearly. He continued, “I’m telling you, be more understanding of Mark and your mom’s hardships. Don’t embarrass Mark. Save some money! Bye!” I froze. The coordination of this entire family left me stunned and speechless. Everything that happened today seemed to confirm the internet’s dark theories. I made up my mind. Tonight, Mark had to explain this clearly, or this marriage was over. Finally, just before bed, Mark initiated a video call. He looked normal. “Babe, is Dad throwing a tantrum again?” “Don’t take it to heart. He gets like that. Old people talk too much. Don’t lower yourself to his level.” I laughed coldly. “And?” Mark rushed to explain. “Oh, I was in meetings all day. Just finished.” “Parents get old, they act like kids. Don’t listen to whatever Dad said.” I wasn’t stupid. Mark was intentionally deflecting the conflict onto his parents. He was muddying the waters, hoping I wouldn’t bring up the shoes again. I had enough. “Mark, what is the deal with those toddler shoes?” 03 Mark paused, then feigned a sudden realization. “Oh, the shoes! I returned them. I was afraid you wouldn’t be home during the day, so I asked Mom to return them.” I asked for the screenshot; he ignored it and kept dodging. “Send me the screenshot of the order history. Now.” “Fine, hang on.” He hung up. Three minutes later, a screenshot arrived. The time was correct: 10:20 PM tonight. The style was correct. But the size… it wasn’t Lucas’s size 4 (36). It was size 5 (37). Ordering one size up is normal for growing kids. The screenshot looked flawless. Was I being too sensitive about everything today? But… did he really know Lucas’s shoe size? I felt like something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Frustrated, I remembered the thousands of netizens. I posted the screenshot in the comments and pinned it. Within minutes, replies flooded in. “That size is obviously Photoshopped.” “Confirmed. You guys are good!” I asked how they knew. Two comments had thousands of likes. “Kids’ shoes are divided into Toddler/Little Kid and Big Kid sizes. Very few styles are made in the full range of sizes.” It hit me. Right. Toddler sizes usually go up to size 10 or 11. Big Kid sizes start at 1 or 13 and go up to 7. That was why the screenshot looked weird. “That screenshot is from Temu/AliExpress. I found the shop. That shoe doesn’t even exist in size 5.” I opened the app to verify. I found the shop. I scrolled through everything. That shoe wasn’t there in that size. Impossible! I DM’d the user. They quickly sent me a screenshot. The toddler shoe in the photo only went up to size 10 Toddler. “Good thing I screenshot it earlier. It’s gone now. They probably delisted it.” “Your husband has some power, getting a seller to take down a listing.” The evidence was right in front of my face. Who did Mark buy those shoes for? Just then, Lucas walked into the bedroom after finishing his homework. “Mom, this afternoon, Grandma picked me up and asked what size shoes I wear.” I choked back my nausea. “What did you say?” Lucas looked helpless. “I’ve been wearing size 4, but they’re getting tight, so I told her size 5.” He leaned in close, whispering. “While I was doing homework, I heard Grandma call Dad. She told him I wear size 5.” The world spun. I fought the urge to faint. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. 04 Dawn broke with a violent banging on the door. My father-in-law was here. “Pay your mom her salary for the month!” My mother-in-law charged us $1,000 a month to help with pickup, cooking, and cleaning. Because I hadn’t slept, I looked terrible. My father-in-law saw my face and exploded. “You got a problem? Looking for a fight?” “Don’t you dare keep dragging this shoe thing out!” “Mark works hard! Your mom works hard! Hurry up and pay!” Usually, I let it slide. I figured they were old, they wouldn’t change. As long as they were healthy. I never expected them to be this guilty. I blocked the door. “Who’s the guilty one here? Who’s looking for a fight?” “Come back another day. I don’t have cash. Neither Mark nor I have been paid yet.” My father-in-law kicked the security door open, barged in like a thug, and sat on the sofa. “If you don’t pay today, I’m not leaving!” Lucas woke up from the noise and walked out, greeting him politely. “Grandpa, you’re here!” My father-in-law acted like he didn’t see him. His face was full of disgust. He even snorted. “Big and small, no manners!” I didn’t want a fight this early. I dressed Lucas to leave. My father-in-law slapped the coffee table. “If you walk out that door today, don’t come back!” “The Miller family doesn’t keep trash!” He was unreasonable and calling me trash. Heaven wouldn’t tolerate this. I took Lucas out. Before closing the door, I said, “This house was bought after Mark and I married. Even if we divorce, half of it is mine.” Bang. I slammed the door. My father-in-law screamed obscenities from inside. I was taking Lucas to Mark. On the way, Lucas looked heartbroken. “Mom, why do Grandpa and Grandma dislike me?” I was shocked. “How could they dislike you? You’re their biological grandson.” Lucas started crying. “Grandma looks disgusted every time she picks me up.” “She mumbles that I’m a debt collector. She says why didn’t you get hit by a car. She says we are dragging Dad down.” “Grandpa hates me more. He pretends he can’t hear me. Sometimes, he looks at me like I’m scary.” Because of a pair of shoes, I realized that some things had changed a long time ago. What was the truth?

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On Christmas Eve, I made a wish. In my haste, I accidentally wrote “Satan” instead of “Santa.” The next day, a gorgeous man with crimson eyes knocked on my apartment door. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, his long, slender fingers holding my wish list. “What kind of garbage wish is this?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth. “What does this mean: ‘Your faithful believer wishes for a life of luxury, endless money, and a devoted, domestic malewife to take care of me. Also, please bring one million dollars in cash. Thanks.’” Chapter 1 I opened the door wearing my bear-print pajamas, eyes still crusty with sleep. A man who was at least 6’3″, with a chest that looked like it could crack walnuts, was standing right there on my welcome mat. I rubbed my eyes. I wasn’t dreaming. The handsome stranger looked down at me, his gaze cold and sharp. He clicked his tongue impatiently. “What kind of garbage wish is this?” That’s when I noticed the piece of paper between his fingers. “‘Your faithful believer wishes for a life of luxury… a devoted, domestic malewife… one million dollars…’” Gasp! That was the note I wrote to Santa Claus before bed last night! I was instantly wide awake. Did Santa actually come to grant my wish? “It means exactly what it says,” I said, rubbing my hands together in excitement. “I didn’t realize Santa was such a hottie.” The handsome man didn’t seem to hear my compliment. He looked at me with disdain and said, “So, are you willing to sell your soul to me?” I was too immersed in the joy of winning the lottery to process that properly. “Wait, you can really make it happen?” “Can I add a little more?” I clasped my hands together and bowed piously to the hot guy. “Oh great Santa, I wish for world peace, national security, and a healthy life in my next incarnation…” “Hey, wait, Santa is foreign, right? Do you handle affairs over here in the States?” The man interrupted my rambling. “Why are you talking about that fat old man?” “The most he does is stuff a doll in your dirty sock. That’s for children.” I looked at him, confused. “If you don’t wish to Santa on Christmas, who do you wish to? And why are you insulting yourself?” The man looked at the paper in his hand, then back at me, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and amusement. “So, you’re illiterate.” “Hey! I can read!” “You don’t know who Satan is?” “Yeah, I do. It’s how you spell Santa!” “…That is S-A-N-T-A. You wrote S-A-T-A-N.” I blinked a few times. Finally, the gears turned. “Oh. I made a typo. Sorry to bother you.” Slam. I shut the door in his face, locking the deadbolt for good measure. Chapter 2 Satan? That name sounded familiar. I quickly Googled it. My heart sank. It wasn’t Santa Claus coming to grant my wish. I had summoned the Lord of Hell. And I just slammed the door in his face… My phone started vibrating. A string of anonymous texts popped up: [Now do you know who you made a wish to?] [Scared? Cat got your tongue?] [Tsk, no need to be terrified. Satan doesn’t eat people.] [Are you mute?] I stared at the screen for three seconds, then blocked the number. Chapter 3 Leaning against the streetlamp outside, Satan looked at the red exclamation mark on his phone screen indicating he’d been blocked. He quietly whispered, “What the f…” Chapter 4 This wasn’t just any Satan. This was a highly localized, modern Satan. I paced around my room anxiously. His English was perfect, he texted like a zoomer—he was adapting too fast. I didn’t know if blocking him would work. Would he haunt me? I frantically opened a delivery app and ordered a pile of exorcism supplies. Sage, garlic, holy water, a crucifix, salt, a Bible… I waited anxiously for forty minutes. The delivery driver knocked. I checked the peephole to make sure Satan wasn’t there before opening the door. But the delivery guy looked up, his eyes glazed over, his mouth opening and closing robotically: “Unblock me… Unblock me… Unblock me…” Terrified, I called the building security. The security guard came up, grumbling, but as soon as he reached my door, he got possessed too: “Unblock me… Unblock me…” I screamed. My neighbor opened his door to yell at the noise. He locked eyes with me and immediately joined the chorus. I gave up. Trembling, I pulled Satan out of the block list. Chapter 5 A new message popped up instantly: [You got guts. You dare delete me?] At the same time, the chanting outside my door stopped. I let out a breath. I immediately surrendered via text: [Big bro, please. I was wrong. I’m sorry, okay?] He replied: [You have no manners. If you block me again, I’ll make everyone you touch repeat that phrase forever.] That was too much psychological horror for me. I sent a row of “I’m sorry” kneeling emojis. His mood seemed to improve slightly. [You know who I am now?] [Yes, yes. Lord Satan, sir. Can you go back now? It’s cold out, sorry for making you come all this way.] […You think you can summon me and dismiss me at will?] What did he mean? Was he trying to extort me? I didn’t have anything to give. I gritted my teeth and typed: [If you want money, I have none. If you keep this up, I’m calling the cops.] A cool breeze suddenly brushed past my ear. A deep voice whispered right against my skin: “Since I’m here, I must take something with me.” I covered my ears, squeezed my eyes shut, and screamed, “Murder is illegal!” Satan didn’t appear, but his voice echoed in my head. “What use is killing you? I can grant your wish, you know.” His voice was seductive. “Now, stand up. Go to the door.” Involuntarily, I followed the voice to the door. “Open it.” “The money is outside.”

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During finals week, the school bully threatened to beat me up if I didn’t let him copy my answers. When the results came out, I was ranked first in the entire grade. The bully, however, clinched the title of Dead Last, achieving his worst score in history. On the first day of the new semester, he cornered me against a wall, tears streaming down my face. “I’m in ninth grade, you’re a junior in high school… I honestly don’t know why you insisted on copying my paper…” Chapter 1 Here’s how it happened. Our school recently introduced a massive scholarship, which naturally led to rampant cheating. To combat this unethical trend, the administration decided to mix grades during finals. Every exam room was a mix of students from two different grades to prevent collaboration. My exam room happened to be mixed with the high school juniors. When the school bully, Jax Hunter, walked in, he looked like he just woke up. His hair was a spiky mess, and his jacket hung off one shoulder as he swaggered in like he owned the place. He held nothing but a black pen and a ruler. His towering figure loomed over the classroom before he finally found his seat. Right behind me. Before the papers were handed out, he slammed his hands on my desk from behind, enveloping me in an aura of pure intimidation. He was the school’s number one fighter. I had personally witnessed him punch a 200-pound lineman five feet through the air. My brain started calculating frantically. With my physique, one punch from him would probably send me through the ceiling and into the exam room next door. Thinking about that, I felt like I could see the light. “W-what do you want? Grim Reaper?” My mouth slipped, and his brows furrowed tight. “What’s your name?” “Zo-Zo-Zoe… Zoe Lane.” “I don’t care about Zoe Lane. I’m asking what you just called me.” I was cracking. Did he hear me call him a hellhound in my head? Is he a mind reader? “No, no, nothing…” He stared straight into my soul: “What was your rank in the last monthly exam?” “Top… top ten.” “Top ten? Good enough.” He leaned down further, his face almost touching mine: “Let me copy your answers later. Or else, you’re dead meat!” I wanted to cry but no tears came out: “B-but I…” “Refusing?” He looked even fiercer, his eyes like knives stabbing me. I didn’t dare resist. I spent every exam shrinking my body so he could get a clear view of my answer sheet. When he couldn’t see, I even whispered the answers to him. In the end, I ranked first. And Jax Hunter fell from the bottom hundred straight to dead last. On the first day of the new semester, he cornered me against the school wall. Chapter 2 “You get first place, and I get last?” His massive, powerful fist was right next to my face. I was shaking like a leaf, crying my eyes out before he even touched me. “Now you know fear? Where was this fear when you played me? How big are your balls to lie to me?” I heard that after the grades came out, he was mocked mercilessly. Dead last. Even his lackeys ranked higher than him. Including the guy who wasn’t technically intellectually disabled but might as well be—the perennial last placer—who scored three points higher than him. And Jax was the only one of them who filled out the entire answer sheet. His enemies were having a field day. “Jax Hunter” became the punchline of the entire winter break. He looked furious, grabbing my collar. I cried: “Boohoo… I didn’t lie to you… I’m in ninth grade, you’re a junior… I don’t know why you insisted on copying off me…” “What did you say?” He looked confused, then finally glanced at the school badge on my chest. We weren’t even in the same grade. His face turned iron gray: “Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” I cried harder: “Ugh… I thought you had your reasons.” The school had announced the mixed seating arrangement ages ago. How was I supposed to know the school bully not only skipped class but also ignored exam notifications? He came to find me to regain his dignity, to prove he wasn’t a joke. Instead of proving anything, he just added another layer to the comedy. Jax was so mad he started shadowboxing in front of me. I wasn’t built for combat. terrified he’d use me as a punching bag, I tried to merge with the wall, my voice squeaking: “You… don’t be mad. I’ll give you half my scholarship money, okay?” Jax glared at me from the corner of his eye: “You think I’m not funny enough already?” “Enough, enough…” I spoke without thinking, seeing his glare intensify, I quickly corrected myself: “No, not enough…” No matter what I said, he wasn’t happy, trying his best to kill me with his eyes. Feeling like his fist was about to drop any second, to save my life, I made a desperate move. I stepped forward and hugged his waist: “I’m sorry… I really didn’t mean to, please don’t hit me…” Jax didn’t speak for a long time. I could only hear his heart pounding against my ear like a drum. Just when I thought I wouldn’t leave with all my limbs intact, he suddenly patted my shoulder: “As long as you know you’re wrong. I don’t hit girls.” “Still hugging? Is my waist free real estate? Keep hugging and you’ll have to take responsibility, got it?” I quickly let go and shrank back into the wall. “The… the bell rang. Can I go back to class?” He suddenly snatched my school badge and pointed at a crack in the wall: “Put it here and wait for me.” Chapter 3 I was doomed. I didn’t know how he planned to torture me. During the awards assembly, I went up to receive my prize and saw him taking photos of me from below the stage. I racked my brain. How could I get the school bully to forgive me and let bygones be bygones? After thinking for ages, I decided to give him a gift as an apology. Seeing something suitable in the school flea market group chat, I bought it without hesitation, put it in a bubble tea bag, and went to wait by the wall. After a few minutes, he strolled over. Walking with a swagger, hair exploding in every direction, wearing sunglasses like a celebrity. My school badge was pinned to his lapel, flaunted for the world to see. Seeing me holding something, he seemed pleased. “Buying me a drink?” I got nervous as soon as I saw him, nodding uncontrollably, babbling: “I-I-I-I bought… bought you something.” He took it, and I looked down to fish out the items. “These are spy glasses. Wear them next exam, adjust the focus, and you can see other people’s papers without leaning over.” “This is an invisible ink pen. Write cheat sheets with it, bring it into the exam, no one will see.” “And a prophecy pencil. For multiple choice questions you don’t know, just roll the dice on top, pick A, B, C, or D…” I took out these cheating artifacts one by one and introduced them to him. When I looked up, Jax’s face was darker than charcoal. “Zoe Lane, in your eyes, am I only good for cheating?” He looked ferocious, like he wanted to bite me to death. I sniffled and took out the second bag of treasures. “Boohoo… I also bought you review materials and a wrong-answer notebook, plus an Ultraman pencil case and a box of Pokémon gel pens. Wishing you academic success and a bright future…” I opened the review book. Shh! I Know You Are Gay — A Mental Health Guide for Men Several rows of pink printed letters assaulted my eyes. Below the text was an illustration of a shirtless muscular man pinning a scrawny boy against a wall. They were staring into each other’s eyes, pink blushes drawn on their cheeks, the tension palpable. Looking up again, Jax’s expression had moved past wanting to bite me. He wanted to ball me up, slice me, shred me, deep fry me, stew me, and finally stir-fry me over high heat until I became recycled matter, disappearing from this world without even DNA left behind. I wailed. “I really… didn’t mean to…” “Follow me.” He used two fingers to pick up my bubble tea bag like it was toxic waste and flung it into the trash can. Then he grabbed me by the back of my collar, carrying me like a baby chick. I thought he was taking me to some dark alley without cameras to beat me up. Instead, he took me to the gym and made me write his apology letter. He changed into his jersey, spinning a basketball on his finger. “My grades tanked so hard the school wants a thousand-word self-reflection essay. But I have a game today, no time. You write it for me.” I held the pen and paper, whispering: “I don’t know how.” Self-reflection letters were foreign to a good student like me. “Find a template online and fill in the blanks.” He pressed down on my head, his voice dark: “If you don’t finish before the game ends, you’re coming to my house to write it. Don’t think about leaving tonight until it’s done.” I wanted to cry again, wiping snot and tears as I started writing. Jax ran onto the court with the ball. The atmosphere heated up immediately, cheers erupting constantly. Jax might be bad at everything else, but he was good at basketball. I’d seen his games. Basically, any team he was on crushed the opposition. Even the school leaders and teachers watching had to pretend to be magnanimous while getting their teams destroyed. There were countless girls in school who ate up his style. Every game, the stands were full of girls screaming their throats raw for him. Amidst the noise, me burying my head writing an apology letter in the gym seemed so out of place. During halftime, a flock of girls screamed and offered Jax water. He ignored them all and sat directly next to me. “How much did you write?” Don’t mention it. I went from admitting mistakes, reflecting on regression, to promising to study hard, listen carefully, then to hoping for college entrance exams, a three-step goal for grades… I used every fancy word, made stuff up, talked in circles, and still only managed six hundred words. “I really can’t fluff it anymore…” I looked at him with teary eyes. He looked at the letter. “Simple. Expand the first three hundred words, repeat the last three hundred words a few times, done.” He was a pro at this. I had to do as he said and started copy-pasting. He watched from the side, then suddenly snatched the water bottle I had in my backpack’s side pocket. Before I could stop him, he downed it. “No…” His eyebrows shot up: “What’s wrong with drinking your water?” Before he finished speaking, he clutched his stomach and sprinted to the bathroom at 60 mph. Chapter 4 Jax missed the second half of the game. He practically lived in the toilet. His bros got beaten black and blue. I meekly met him outside the bathroom and took him to the hospital. “Zoe Lane, are you my curse?” Jax was on an IV drip, his face darker than a ghost. I explained weakly: “I tried to stop you, you didn’t listen…” “Are you sick? Putting laxatives in your own water?” I lowered my head: “I didn’t put it there.” His stomach rumbled loudly again. Jax curled up in pain, veins popping on his neck. He looked like he was about to hit someone. I trembled in fear and hurriedly offered my last peace offering. “Senior, have some bubble tea.” I handed it over too fast, squeezed too hard, and sprayed the bully in the face. A pearl playfully stuck to his nostril, instantly giving him a comical look. … I didn’t dare breathe. I felt like he was going to slap my head off my neck any second. He wiped his face: “Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times I’ll count as carelessness, four times… Zoe Lane, even if my brain was squeezed by a door, I don’t know how to defend you anymore.” I apologized, tears streaming down my face: “My brain was squeezed…” “A brain-squeezed person ranks first in the grade? Are you mocking me again?” The muscles in his handsome face twitched. He ground his teeth so loud it sounded like construction work. Once they were sharp, he’d bite my jugular, spraying blood everywhere, and suck me dry like a vampire. No… Snot and tears flying, I rolled up my sleeves, revealing arms full of bruises: “Senior, I can’t take a beating. One punch will kill me. Sometimes people think these bruises are from you too. I don’t want you to be framed, so please don’t hit me, okay?” “Zoe Lane! What the hell goes on in your head all day!” He was so mad he ripped out the IV needle, flailing his limbs like an exploding octopus. “Am I fierce? Am I violent? Are you a basketball? Why would I hit you? In your heart, do I only know how to cheat and fight? Even though I sleep in class, cheat, fail exams, and have a bad temper, can’t you see that under my handsome exterior lies a soft and sensitive heart? Just like this morning, a hug could have soothed me, but you had to piss me off again and again! Do you want to anger me to death so you can inherit my title of School Bully?” My brain throbbed from his yelling. Then I saw him fling his hand, turn his head away, pout his lips to the sky, but open his arms towards me. “Here. Giving you a chance. Comfort me.” I didn’t know if he needed a psychiatrist, but I had to comply. I sniffled, put down the bubble tea, and hugged him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so… gentle.” I violated my conscience to use a word completely unrelated to Jax Hunter. He didn’t speak. I thought he was annoyed again, but when I looked up, his grin reached his ears. He hugged me back: “Right? I am very gentle. I have fought, but that’s because others provoked me first. They were jealous that I’m handsome and good at basketball, deliberately looking for trouble. I did nothing wrong…” I nodded with my eyes closed: “I know, I know. Appearance reflects the heart. You’re so handsome, it means you’re good, you’re right. They’re just jealous.” The bully wiggled his massive frame. “Exactly!” “You only became a bully because they targeted you. You don’t start trouble, but you don’t fear it. You’re the most capable.” “Exactly!” “Your grades are bad because of them too. Otherwise, you’d definitely be third in the grade. Why not first? Because the first has to give a speech. Why not second? Because you wanted to let the poor student have the $1500 scholarship.” “Exactly!” … God help me. Who knew? The bully who could break a podium with his bare hands was a narcissistic airhead. Seeing him trapped in pink bubbles, I knew I had smoothed his feathers enough. I coaxed him into putting the IV back in.

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My mom loves watching my sister and me compete. She deliberately gave me old clothes that no one else wanted, causing me to catch a disease and almost die. Yet she said: “If your sister hadn’t told me this dress would look good on you, Mom wouldn’t have let you wear old clothes no one else wanted.” She deliberately changed my sister’s college application from a top university to a community college, ruining her future. Yet she said: “If your sister hadn’t said that school was a better fit for you, Mom wouldn’t have listened to her and changed your application.” My sister and I fought for a lifetime, finally dying tragically in a fire. Mom stood outside the inferno, watching us coldly: “You’re finally dead. Now there’s no one left to compete with me for your father’s love.” Opening my eyes again, my sister and I were both reborn. Chapter 1 “Chloe, look at this. It’s old, but it’s still in good shape. Go try it on, quickly!” My mom pointed at a plastic bag on the floor, urging me. In my past life, it was on this day that my mom brought back an old dress no one else wanted and made me try it on. I put it on without suspicion. She wouldn’t let me take it off; instead, she made me twirl left and right, and even sent me outside to show the neighbors… I wore that old dress for over half an hour before she let me take it off. That night, I developed a high fever that wouldn’t break. At the hospital, I learned I had contracted a disease, and the source was that dress my mom brought back. Yet she cried and said, “If your sister hadn’t told me this dress would look good on you, Mom wouldn’t have let you wear old clothes no one else wanted.” She didn’t speak a word of truth in front of my sister either. Even worse, she deliberately changed my sister’s college application from a top university to a community college, ruining her future. And she told my sister: “If your sister hadn’t said that school was a better fit for you, Mom wouldn’t have listened to her and changed your application.” My sister and I hated each other for a lifetime, fought for a lifetime, and finally died together in a fire. My mom stood outside the inferno, watching us coldly: “You’re finally dead. Now there’s no one left to compete with me for my husband’s love.” Three people loved her, but since she only wanted my dad’s love… I smiled coldly, looking at the clothes in the plastic bag: “Mom, we’re about the same size. I think this color suits you better.” Chapter 2 My mom was stunned for a moment, then smiled again: “This is for you. Hurry up and try it on; it’ll definitely look good.” I also smiled: “I think it suits you better. Mom, you try it.” My mom’s face went slightly cold: “Just put it on when I tell you to. It’s just a dress; do we need to push it back and forth? Hurry up and try it. If it doesn’t fit, I have to return it.” She rolled her eyes and continued to urge: “Hurry up, your sister said this dress suits you.” She said the same thing in my previous life, but after I got sick. This time, she said it ahead of time. I smiled coldly and was about to speak when my sister suddenly opened the door and rushed in. “Chloe, don’t!” After shouting, she seemed to just catch her breath, panting heavily. Seeing the clothes in the plastic bag on the floor, my sister obviously sighed in relief. I realized something, but now was not the time to ask questions, so I played along with my mom’s words. “Lily, do you really think this color suits me?” I pointed to the clothes on the floor, asking my sister but looking at my mom. A guilty look appeared on her face. Just as she wanted to change the subject, I said again: “Mom said you think this dress suits me.” “I didn’t say that!” My sister’s eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath, forcing the tears back, and looked straight at my mom, “Mom, why are you lying to Chloe?” My mom’s voice stuttered, and her expression was extremely unnatural: “What lie? I just said it casually. Do you have to take it so seriously?” “Then you’re spreading rumors. I never said that!” My sister said hatefully. I walked over and held my sister’s hand. Her body trembled, and she held my hand back tightly. I confirmed my suspicions. I squeezed my sister’s hand and smiled: “I actually think this dress suits Mom very well. What do you think?” My sister caught onto my idea and played along quickly: “Yes, Mom, this color suits you perfectly. You’ll look absolutely beautiful in it. Hurry up and try it.” My mom said irritably: “What suits me? If you don’t want to wear it, forget it. I’ll take it back.” Chapter 3 My dad came back at this time. I had a brainstorm, pointing at my mom and asking: “You don’t want to wear old clothes, do you? Then why do you always make me and my sister wear old clothes? Or is there something wrong with this dress?” My sister gasped: “Is there really something wrong with this dress? Mom, you brought back problematic clothes for Chloe to wear. Are you trying to kill her?” “What’s going on?” My dad said seriously, “It’s just a dress. What could be wrong with it? How can you two talk to your mother like that?” My mom threw herself into my dad’s arms, weeping: “Honey, it’s good you’re back. Otherwise, I don’t know what they would have said about me, boo hoo…” I rolled my eyes; I really couldn’t stand to watch. Competing with her own daughters, she’s really something. I also cried: “I just think this dress suits Mom, but she refuses to wear it. I know she never liked me and my sister, so she always makes us wear old clothes while she buys new ones for herself…” My sister also cried along. Dad: “……” I sobbed: “We just want Mom to try on this dress.” My sister’s tears fell down, and she nodded in agreement: “Is there anything wrong with daughters wanting to dress up their mother beautifully?” Under the combined attack of me and my sister, my dad also said: “If the kids want you to try it, just try it. It’s just a dress; what’s the big deal?” “Put it on and show Dad.” I persisted, determined to make my mom wear that dress today. My dad picked up the plastic bag and handed it to my mom: “Put it on quickly and let me see.” Having no choice, my mom reluctantly changed into the dress, but she wanted to take it off after just one twirl in front of my dad. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Mom. Turn around again so I can see…” Before I finished speaking, I was irritably interrupted by my mom: “Turn what…” “Mom, you’re so fierce! Why is your voice so rough?” I asked deliberately. Mom: “……” In order to maintain the image of a gentle woman in front of my dad, my mom had no choice but to smile and turn left and right in front of us. I insisted on taking her outside for a walk, and she couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t until more than half an hour later that my mom was able to take off the dress. She immediately rushed into the bathroom to shower. Afterward, she disinfected the entire house and threw the dress into the trash. I was no longer anxious to expose her; anyway, she was already marinated in the virus. Chapter 4 “Chloe.” My sister pulled me back to the room. As soon as the door closed, she hugged me tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. We didn’t dare to make a sound, holding each other and crying silently. After a long time, I let go of my sister and asked tremblingly: “You were reborn too, right?” My sister nodded vigorously. “I’m sorry.” I held her hand, “In the past life, it was my fault.” “No, it was her fault!” My sister sniffled, “Let’s not talk about the past life anymore. Chloe, from now on, let’s both be well.” I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears: “You have to be more careful. She will definitely change your college application again in this life.” My sister looked thoughtful and nodded. Outside, my dad’s voice came: “Xiaoyun, what are you doing? If the clothes aren’t right, just return them. Why did you burn them?” My sister and I looked at each other and immediately opened the door to go out. We saw my mom looking paranoid, staring at the burning clothes in the basin and saying: “It’s fine if I burn it, definitely fine.” My heart turned cold. I walked forward and deliberately asked: “Mom, why are you burning the clothes…” My mom gave me a hateful glare, her eyes filled with venom. Fortunately, when the clothes burned clean, she was relieved. Pouting, she stood up and complained about my sister and me in front of my dad: “Honey, they really don’t like wearing old clothes. Chloe and Lily tried so hard to make me wear them.” “I didn’t buy them new clothes often before, but that was when they were little. Children look fresh and beautiful in anything.” “Look at me, I’m old and yellow. If I don’t wear new clothes, will I still be presentable?” I also complained: “But my sister and I are so grown up now, and we haven’t worn many new clothes. I’m nineteen, and my sister is sixteen. You can’t treat us like children anymore.” My sister pouted aggrievedly. My dad walked over: “From now on, I’ll buy new clothes for both of you. Don’t wear clothes others have worn before.” He turned his head to complain to my mom: “You too. What young girl doesn’t like wearing new clothes? They are young, they should wear new clothes even more. You are so old, what difference does it make if it’s new or old?” Mom: “……” My dad really is a straight-talking man. My mom didn’t speak, clenching her hands tightly. I looked over and caught the fleeting murderous intent in her eyes. That look made me cold all over. I couldn’t understand how that could be the look a mother gives her own daughter. Only when she saw me looking at her did my mom smile again: “Yes, I’m old. I don’t look good in anything. Let’s just buy new clothes for them. Don’t buy any for me.” My dad was speechless: “It’s not like our family can’t afford new clothes. Let’s just buy new ones for everyone, okay? It’s just old clothes; why make such a big deal out of it? I’ve been working all day; don’t make me judge this boring case for you.” “Dad, I’ll cook.” I said, entering the kitchen. My sister came in to help. As soon as the kitchen door closed, she whispered: “Will we get infected? Dad sleeps in the same bed with her; he will definitely get infected too.” I whispered something in my sister’s ear. My sister nodded and went out immediately: “Dad, accompany me to buy some workbooks. I don’t have enough test papers. The college entrance exam is coming up, and I want to practice more.” “Let’s go.” My dad agreed without hesitation. After buying the workbooks, my sister said she wanted to eat KFC and asked my dad to take her there. After dinner, she wanted to go to the supermarket, anyway, they didn’t come back until very late. I ate dinner with my mom. The disease only spreads through skin contact. She kept complaining that my sister was pestering my dad and wouldn’t let him come back to accompany her. She had missed my dad all day at home. I didn’t respond. At half past eight, my mom suddenly called me: “Chloe, quickly call your dad back. I feel sick.” I forced myself to be ruthless and pretended not to hear. In the previous life, the night I had a fever, my mom took my dad out so he wouldn’t come back to take care of me. In the end, it was my sister who called an ambulance and sent me to the hospital for emergency treatment.

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