• System Bound, Labeled His Doormat

    1 I was the most obedient dog at Justin’s heels. Even though I was his official girlfriend, I was the one who quietly washed his clothes with a cold face after he got back from some wild party with God knows who. Everyone in our circle thought I was desperately, hopelessly in love with him. Only I knew the truth. I only tolerated him because of the Favorability System in my head. For every single point Justin’s favorability toward me increased, a hundred thousand dollars would be wired to my account. But no matter how hard I tried over the past three years, his favorability toward me remained stuck at exactly one. Eventually, I got tired of the game. I told him we were done. That was when the long-silent system voice finally chimed in. Justin’s favorability has increased by twenty-five points. I stood there, completely speechless. When he wouldn’t leave me alone and kept badgering me, I snapped and slapped him across the face. The mechanical voice chimed again. Justin’s favorability has increased by fifty points. I was utterly bewildered. On our third anniversary, it happened to line up with our high school reunion. Justin had texted me, saying he wanted to give me a surprise. But when I arrived at the private lounge as planned, I found him wrapped around Scarlett, the pretty girl from the class next door. They were kissing like they wanted to swallow each other whole. His friends were crowding around them, cheering and whistling. “Damn, Justin, you’re bold,” one of them laughed, raising his glass. “Aren’t you worried Wendy is going to walk in and lose her mind?” Justin pushed Scarlett away, a dismissive smirk playing on his lips. “Anger? Does she even know how?” “True. Everyone knows Wendy is the most obedient girl in the world. Even if you brought another girl home, she’d probably just smile and make her coffee.” Another guy joined in, “Man, but didn’t you spend three whole years chasing her back in high school?” Justin leaned back into the leather sofa, crossing his legs and lighting a cigarette. “I only chased her because she was pretty. Thought she’d look good on my arm.” He blew a slow cloud of smoke, his smile turning cruel. “Who knew she’d turn out to be so boring? She’s as obedient as a dog.” I pushed the door open, and the room went dead silent. Justin’s friends exchanged quick glances, some of them mockingly tugging at their own collars, pretending to hold a leash. They pointed at me with grins. The message was clear: Justin’s favorite pet had arrived. I ignored them, walking straight over and sitting down next to him. “Where is the surprise you mentioned?” A flash of confusion crossed Justin’s face before he checked his phone. “Oh, that? I lost a bet earlier and just sent the text on a whim.” Scarlett leaned closer to Justin, her smile dripping with malice. “Yeah, we bet Justin whether you’d actually show up. Looks like we won.” The room erupted into another round of snickers. Justin used me as a punchline so often that his friends had long since lost any shred of respect for me. I looked at the mockery in Justin’s eyes, then at the expectant faces of the onlookers waiting for me to play my part. For the first time, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. I took a quiet breath and asked the question I had kept locked away for three years. “Justin, do you actually love me? Even just a little?” “Oh, hear that?” “Come on, Justin, the girl is practically begging. Say something nice.” Justin stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, letting out a sharp laugh. “Wendy, we’re adults. Asking about love? Isn’t that a bit childish?” The jeering from his friends grew louder, some of them throwing out crude remarks. Justin threw his arm carelessly over Scarlett’s shoulder. “Actually, since you’re here, there’s something I need to tell you. Scarlett is staying in town for a while. You don’t use your place very often anyway, so pack up your things and let her move in.” I nodded slowly. “Actually, I have something to tell you too.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Justin, let’s break up.” 2 Everyone in Justin’s circle, including Justin himself, believed I was too codependent to ever leave him. Even after I said the words, his smirk didn’t fade. “Wendy, look at you, learning how to play hard to get.” I didn’t give him another glance. I stood up and walked toward the exit. This time, I was truly done. To be honest, my three years of silent endurance had been entirely for the sake of the system. In the beginning, my grandmother, who had raised me, fell gravely ill and needed an expensive operation. I was desperate for money. Right around that time, Justin had video-called me to confess his feelings yet again. The wind in his microphone had been deafening. He was wearing skydiving goggles, the blue sky rushing past behind him. “Wendy, I really love you! If you don’t agree to be my girlfriend today, I’m not pulling the cord!” It wasn’t his first time asking. 3 The first time I met Justin was on the first day of our senior year of high school. He had transferred in as a repeating student. Word around school was that he was supposed to go abroad with his childhood sweetheart, but they had a massive falling out right before the flight. In a fit of temper, the young heir decided to stay behind and take the national college entrance exams instead. Because his wealthy family had recently funded a brand-new science building for the school, our homeroom teacher called me into the office on day one. Since I was the academic representative, she asked me to help him catch up. And so, I became Justin’s desk mate. His arrival in the classroom caused quite a stir. He was handsome, incredibly wealthy, and had those expressive eyes that made him look like he was flirting even when he was just looking at a chalkboard. After a brief introduction, he sauntered over to my desk, shoved his designer backpack into the cubby, pulled out a stack of pristine textbooks, and gave me a lazy grin. “Hey, new desk mate. Play nice, okay?” Honestly, during the high-pressure environment of senior year, the last thing I wanted was to baby a rich kid who was just trying out the public school experience. Fortunately, aside from a casual greeting in the mornings, he left me alone. But just when I thought we would peacefully coexist until graduation, he suddenly confessed. “Wendy, I like you. Be my girl.” Amid the sudden cheers of our classmates, I just mumbled an okay and kept solving my math problems. After that, Justin started bringing me breakfast every morning, leaving expensive gifts and bouquets of flowers on my desk. I gave the food to whoever was hungry, tossed the gifts in the trash, and handed the flowers to our teacher. Eventually, he cornered me in the hallway before morning study. “Wendy, do you seriously think I’m not good enough for you?” I kept my eyes on my English vocabulary book. Justin, who had likely never been ignored by a girl in his life, let out a frustrated laugh. “Fine. Then tell me, what kind of guy does it take to please the great Wendy?” His voice was loud enough to draw stares from the passing students. Not wanting a scene, I casually pointed to the academic honor board on the wall behind him. It displayed the photos of the top ten students from the last exams. I pointed at the boy in the number one spot. “Him. I like guys like him.” 4 “Joey? That freak?” Justin sneered, glancing at the photo. “Didn’t realize you had such bizarre taste, Wendy.” From that day until graduation, Justin stopped bothering me. Instead, he actually started burying his head in his books. Later, we ended up at the same university, though he was admitted into the major with the lowest entry requirements. On move-in day, Justin drove his luxury Maybach right onto the campus plaza, pulling off a dramatic drift before stopping right in front of me. “Wendy, I got into the same school as you. Now will you finally agree to be my girlfriend?” He tapped the hood of his car. “You know what my family is worth. Being with me means you’ll never have to worry about a thing.” A crowd had gathered, some students clapping and chanting for me to say yes. I took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eye. “Justin, I simply do not like you. It has nothing to do with your grades or your family’s money.” Chasing shortcuts and wanting things that don’t belong to you only leads to a harder fall. I knew that better than anyone. Embarrassed by the public rejection, Justin slammed his car door and sped off, leaving a cloud of dust. I assumed he would give up. But a month later, he showed up again. This time, someone had clearly given him better advice. He stopped demanding that I be his girlfriend. Instead, when my student union group was prepping for an event, he brought his friends to help carry heavy boxes. When I volunteered on weekends, he quietly paid to upgrade our school transport to comfortable buses and funded our supplies. When I worked late tutoring, his car would be waiting down the street to make sure I got home safely. Over time, even my roommates began to nudge me. “He’s rich, handsome, and actually attentive. If it were me, I’d marry him on the spot!” Then, my grandmother fell ill. The hospital bills were astronomical, and the money I could make from part-time jobs was a drop in the bucket. I stayed up all night pacing, finally deciding to call Justin. But his phone kept ringing out. For a month, I worked myself to the bone, trying to raise funds. And then, out of nowhere, the system appeared in my mind. Justin’s video call came right after. He was in Queenstown, New Zealand, skydiving, yelling his confession through the wind. With the system urging me to lock in a target, and looking at his wind-swept but familiar face, I finally said yes. Justin laughed, pulling his parachute cord. Behind him, the white canopy bloomed, printed with bold letters: I love you, Wendy. 5 The early days of our relationship were actually sweet. We traveled together during breaks, and when we were on campus, we ate at the cheap food stalls down the street. When Justin learned about my grandmother’s condition, he hired the best specialists to treat her and visited her regularly. She adored him. Once she was discharged, she wanted to return to her quiet hometown to recover, but she worried about leaving me alone in the city. Justin had held my hand in front of her, promising he would protect me and cherish me forever. Even though the system showed his favorability was at a meager one, I did receive the initial hundred thousand dollars. That money saved my grandmother’s life. For that, I would always be grateful to him. But whatever gratitude I had was slowly burned away by his behavior. Within a month of my grandmother leaving, Justin started entertaining other women. A boy of his status was never short of company, and there were always plenty of girls willing to throw themselves at him. Every time I resolved to leave, Justin would suddenly soften, showing just enough warmth to make me hesitate. He knew exactly how to pull my strings, making me wonder if he might actually learn to love me again. Just a little. At least another point would mean another hundred thousand dollars. Having known the terror of being broke, I wasn’t going to turn down money. But during those quiet nights, listening to the muffled sounds of his late-night calls in the next room, I couldn’t help but ask myself if I had only stayed for the cash. 6 Now, none of that mattered anymore. Ignoring the sneers of his friends, I turned toward the exit of the lounge. Suddenly, a violent crash echoed behind me, followed by Scarlett’s sharp shriek. “Joey! What the hell are you doing?!” Hearing that familiar name, I spun around in surprise. A young man with a sharp buzz cut had Justin pinned hard against the glass coffee table. He was wearing a dark windbreaker, his sleeves pushed up, radiating a raw, dangerous energy. He hadn’t changed at all. Still as reckless as ever. Back in school, Joey had been a legend. He was fierce, constantly skipping classes to fight, yet his grades were always impossibly perfect. The teachers couldn’t touch him, and the students kept their distance. Even someone as arrogant as Justin had never dared to cross him. This reunion was supposed to be Justin’s crowd. Joey’s presence was entirely unexpected. Joey lazily twirled a small pocket knife, letting the blade catch the light right in front of Justin’s eyes. “Just didn’t like the look of your face today. Thought I’d break it.” Scarlett had already scrambled into the corner, trembling. Justin’s friends hovered at a distance, none of them daring to step in. They were terrified of him. Justin’s cheek was pressed hard against the table, his face twisted in rage. “Joey, you think we’re still in school? Look around. This is my turf.” “Don’t care.” Joey slammed the knife into the wood right next to Justin’s ear, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and delivered a brutal kick straight to his ribs.

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  • My Fiancé Broke My Leg Just To Make My Best Friend Famous

    Before my tour, I suddenly lost my voice. Fans gathered outside the agency’s building, screaming for refunds. That very night, the company decided to shelve me. When I became the target of public outrage, only my boyfriend stood by me. He paid my exorbitant contract termination fees and took me to see top specialists all over the country. But just as I was deeply moved and about to accept his proposal, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and my mother. “This batch is potent. Don’t use too much.” 1 “Give it to her every three days. This batch is incredibly potent, and I’m worried her throat won’t be able to handle it if we push too fast.” “She needs to be able to speak, but she can never sing again.” In the dimly lit kitchen, Johnathan handed my mother a small plastic container. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed it. I pressed my hand firmly over my mouth, terrified of making even the slightest sound. Johnathan lit a cigarette, taking a long, slow drag. “Sienna is proud. Just ruining her voice isn’t enough to keep her under control. We need to find an opportunity to break her legs, keep her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. They say a tortured artist produces the best work, don’t they?” He blew out a stream of grey smoke, then slipped a breath mint into his mouth. Ever since my throat had failed, Johnathan had sworn to quit smoking for my sake. It was all a lie. He was just hiding it. My mother frowned, looking slightly uneasy. “Break her legs? But Sienna is still writing songs, isn’t she? Can’t you just take her compositions and give them to Gemma? Is it really necessary to go this far? If Sienna finds out I did that to her, she’ll kill me. I can’t do this.” They stood in a tense deadlock until Johnathan pulled a black debit card from his pocket. “There’s a hundred thousand dollars on this card.” My mother’s face split into a wide, greedy grin as she eagerly snatched the card. The woman who gave birth to me, and the man I loved more than life itself. They were the two people who had played the roles of my devoted guardians since my tragedy. Now, they were plotting to cripple me. Three years ago, I was at the peak of my career, a rising pop star with a glittering future. But right before my first major stadium tour, my throat suddenly gave out. The pain of speaking was unbearable. When I asked my agency to postpone the tour, they refused flatly. “Postpone? Are you out of your mind?” my manager had screamed. “The building is surrounded by furious fans demanding refunds. The internet is flooded with rumors about you. We aren’t taking the fall for your failure.” That very night, they terminated my contract and slapped me with a massive lawsuit for breach of contract. My social media accounts were frozen, stripping me of any way to defend myself. While the world turned its back on me, Johnathan held me close, whispering that everything would be fine. He paid my exorbitant contract fees, hired top specialists, and stayed by my side. When every doctor shook their head and told us my voice was gone forever, Johnathan didn’t give up. He brewed herbal remedies for me every day. Because he was busy with his family’s business, he brought my mother to our apartment to take care of me. I used to think God had given me a sweet consolation prize after taking my dream away. What a joke. It was all a meticulous trap. Gemma was my college roommate and my colleague at the agency. I knew Johnathan and Gemma were close, and I knew my mother had always adored her. But I never imagined they would conspire to destroy me just to pave her way. My mother’s bright smile cut through me like a blade, a cold ache spreading deep into my bones. “I already put sleeping pills in her tea,” my mother whispered. “We’ll do it tonight.” I stared down at my empty glass, a single tear slipping silently down my cheek. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a sterile hospital bed. My mother held my hand, tears streaming down her face. “Sienna, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I saw you sleeping on the sofa downstairs and tried to carry you up to bed. I just didn’t have the strength. I lost my grip.” I watched her theatrical performance in silence. But I couldn’t stop my own tears from falling, hot and heavy onto her palm. Johnathan looked at me with deep, performative pity. Suddenly, he turned and slammed his fist into the concrete wall behind him, startling us both. “Sienna, don’t be scared. I’m here,” he said, kneeling by my bed and looking up at me with eyes full of tenderness. “If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you. I’ll be your crutch for the rest of your life.” The sweet words sounded like a sick joke. I turned my head away, burying my face in the pillow, letting the tears soak the fabric. My mother had never shown me any affection growing up. I had to work multiple part-time jobs just to afford my college tuition. But on the first day of university, she suddenly became a doting mother. She visited me weekly, eventually renting an apartment right next to the campus. Everyone envied me, but I knew the truth. Every time she visited our dorm, her eyes were glued to Gemma. When I complained to Johnathan back then, he merely shrugged. “You’re being too sensitive. Why get jealous over something so trivial? It’s not like your mom can actually become her mom.” I stopped bringing it up, but the resentment lingered. After graduation, I was signed by a major label, while Gemma was rejected repeatedly. But a month later, she mysteriously signed with the exact same company. Rumors swirled that she was backed by the heir of the Blackwood Group, Johnathan. Johnathan had laughed it off. “She got in on her own merit, Sienna.” The memory dissolved as the low murmur of voices broke my reverie. I had been awake for a while, keeping my eyes closed, absorbing every word of their hushed conversation. “Why don’t you just marry Gemma?” my mother asked. Johnathan’s response was immediate and firm. “I promised Gemma I’d make her the biggest star in the industry. In this business, a dating scandal is career suicide, especially for someone at her level. Besides, Gemma’s songwriting is mediocre at best. To maintain her reputation as a singer-songwriter, she needs a constant supply of hit tracks. No one is better suited for that than Sienna.” Painful memories in my dreams, a brutal reality in my waking hours. Johnathan had been laying the groundwork for Gemma since our college days. I was never his partner; I was just the stepping stone he meant to crush for her benefit. The realization choked me, and my breathing hitched. Johnathan immediately pulled me into a tight embrace. “I’m here, Sienna. I’ve got you.” Over his shoulder, I caught sight of my mother’s face. She had tears on her cheeks, but her lips were curved into a triumphant smile. She was busy typing on her phone, and the screen caught my eye, displaying the contact name: My Baby. The profile picture was unmistakable. It was Gemma. I knew Johnathan hadn’t cared for Gemma initially. Their relationship had evolved over time, his affection shifting toward her as she played the victim. But I couldn’t comprehend why my own mother would throw her daughter away for a stranger. A dark suspicion began to take root. Using my memory, I searched for Gemma’s private social media account. Her latest post was from two days ago. It showed three silhouettes leaning against each other at a lavish dinner. I recognized Johnathan and my mother instantly. The caption read: A night to celebrate. Two days ago was the night my mother pushed me down the stairs. My heart hammered against my ribs, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through her feed. Almost every post featured Johnathan and my mother. The domestic bliss practically radiated from the screen. The best sweet and sour ribs in the world, made by Mom! I casually mentioned that I never got childhood gifts, and the next day a room was filled with presents. Mom and my boy are making up for lost time! Wanted to see the grasslands, so my boy booked the tickets and hotel instantly, and Mom packed my bags. I must be the luckiest girl in the world. They had traveled to so many places together. The bitter irony was that I had been to those exact cities too. Every few days, Johnathan would take me to see some distant specialist. I had been so touched by his care, never realizing that my medical appointments were just a cover-up for his holidays with Gemma. Seeing my mother’s affection for Gemma made me think of my own childhood. I had never had a birthday party, let alone a bowl of traditional longevity noodles made by her hands. I scrolled further down, my chest tight. She says I look exactly like her daughter who went missing years ago. She wants to be my mom. This was posted three days after university started. I stared at the screen, stunned. I had never known my mother had a missing daughter. But simply because of a passing resemblance, she had given all her love to a stranger. What did that make me? An unwanted child, receiving only the scraps of affection she had left over. Sienna, there is no one left in this world who loves you. On my fifth day in the hospital, Gemma visited, carrying a massive bouquet of lilies. My mother immediately handed Gemma a freshly peeled apple. “Give it to Sienna instead,” Gemma offered with a sweet, plastic smile. I remained silent. Gemma sat on the edge of my bed, arranging the flowers in a glass vase on my bedside table. Within seconds, my throat began to tighten, the pollen triggering my severe allergies. I gasped for air, panic surging through me as I instinctively lashed out, knocking the vase to the floor. The glass shattered with a loud crash, startled cries echoing through the room. Gemma immediately shrank back, her eyes welling with theatrical tears. “I’m so sorry, Sienna. I completely forgot you were allergic to pollen. It’s my fault.” She hadn’t forgotten. She had brought them on purpose. Even with the flowers on the floor, the microscopic particles hung heavy in the air. “Get them out,” I rasped, my throat burning. Gemma whimpered, dropping to her knees to pick up the broken shards. But before her hand could touch the glass, my mother snatched her wrist. “Sienna, Gemma is a star now. Her hands are delicate. How could you let her do manual labor?” Johnathan chimed in, “She just forgot, Sienna. Is it really necessary to throw a tantrum?” He turned to Gemma, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. “Don’t touch that, Gemma. I’ll clean it up.” They coddled her as if she were made of glass, not even bothering to hide their devotion in front of me. Sensing the shift in energy, Gemma pulled out her phone and played her upcoming single. Johnathan frowned slightly, but didn’t stop her. The moment the opening chords filled the room, my heart stopped. It was my song. The melody I had written late at night, before my voice was destroyed. “Our Gemma sings so beautifully,” my mother cooed, her eyes shining with pride. “You were born to be a star. No one else could do this song justice.” “This melody,” I croaked, keeping my eyes fixed on Gemma. “It sounds incredibly familiar.” Gemma’s eyes flickered with a brief wave of panic. Johnathan immediately stepped in to shield her. “Thousands of songs are produced every year, Sienna. A few overlapping notes are completely normal.” Before I could speak, my mother pinched my arm hard under the blanket. “Sienna, just because you can’t sing anymore doesn’t mean you should take your jealousy out on others. You and Gemma were roommates. You should be happy for her. Besides, you two should help each other. Why don’t you write a few melodies for Gemma’s next album?” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low, coaxing murmur. “And will my name be on the credits?” I asked, looking at the three of them. “Absolutely not,” my mother replied without hesitation. “Your reputation is ruined right now. Putting your name on her work would only drag her down.” I almost laughed aloud. They wanted my talent, but they wanted me dead to the world. A heavy silence settled over the room as they waited for my submission. I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. “Johnathan, buy me a house in the countryside,” I said quietly. “I want to go there alone. You know I need absolute silence to compose. I’ll write the songs there. It will be ready in time for Gemma’s next release.” Their tense expressions immediately dissolved into smiles, especially Johnathan’s. “Really, Sienna? You’ll do that?” I nodded. Of course I would. Otherwise, who knew what other horrors they would devise to bend me to their will? Johnathan happily embraced me. That very night, he purchased a secluded property, Oakridge Villa, and tried to hire two nannies to watch over me. I refused the staff. I had my own helper in mind. I pulled out my burner phone and sent a single text: Come to Oakridge Villa tomorrow.

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  • The System Makes Me Trade My Mother’s Hatred For Success

    The system noticed my gaze lingering on the locked option of “A Mother’s Love” and seemed to grow irritated. It flared up in a sudden rage. “Host, your target is your mother!” “Make your mother angry: +1 point.” “Make your mother detest you: +10 points.” “If your mother’s resentment level reaches 500 points, you will unlock every item in this store.” The system tapped an invisible chalkboard aggressively. “If the combined resentment from Richard, Phoebe, and your mother reaches 2,000 points, there will be a massive bonus reward.” “This system absolutely despises spineless cowards!” 1. My mother told me that if I helped Phoebe just this once, I would have the Bennett family wrapped around my finger. She said everyone in the family would owe me. “It’s just a few years in prison,” she had said, brushing it off. “Once you are out, everyone’s lives will be so much easier.” Phoebe clung to my mother’s arm, projecting the picture-perfect image of a sweet, innocent daughter. I stood to the side, feeling like a ghost in my own home. Richard Bennett stood silent for a long moment before finally muttering, “Once you are out, I will write you a check. Put down whatever number you want, as long as it is within my power.” Phoebe sobbed, burying her face in Helen’s chest. “I’m so scared, Mom. I don’t want to go to jail. It was an accident, I swear. What am I going to do?” My mother looked as if she had been injected with a sudden surge of adrenaline. She turned back to me, pleading with desperate intensity. “Rowan, sweetie, please, just do this for me. Just this once.” “Phoebe is a fragile young girl. How could she survive a place like that? It would ruin her entire life.” “Think of her as your older sister. Show some compassion. Besides, you’ve always been tough. Your father used to beat you all the time when you were little anyway.” The woman standing before me felt like a complete stranger. She shielded Phoebe with a fierce maternal instinct, as if Phoebe were her actual flesh and blood. “Are you going to do it or not?” Helen’s voice sharpened, her hand hovering in the air. “I’m counting to three. Answer me!” Feeling utterly defeated, I surrendered to my fate and agreed. Inside, I was completely numb. In my past life, I had agreed just as easily. Back then, I was naive. I cared for my mother, and I was genuinely happy she had finally remarried a decent man. When she asked this of me, I foolishly believed I was doing something meaningful for her. Perhaps that was because, before her second marriage, I had spent years playing the role of her husband. I was her daughter, but I was also her proxy spouse. She had projected all her resentment toward her ex-husband onto me, yet whenever my young self proved helpless to save her, her disappointment ran deep. That was why, from a very young age, I was desperate to do anything to make her life easier. So when she begged me to take the fall for Phoebe in my previous life, I didn’t hesitate. I thought it would secure her place in the Bennett household, and in turn, make my own life better. But after I went to prison, my mother never visited me once. While other inmates had visitors every month, I had none. During the monthly phone calls, everyone else had family waiting on the other end. My calls went unanswered. I was left entirely alone, forgotten by the world. Unable to endure the suffocating isolation, I ended my life on New Year’s Day. Perhaps the universe pitied my miserable end. I woke up reborn. In front of my eyes floated a glowing blue screen: The Doormat Reformation Project. A cheerful, synthesized voice chimed in my head, “Welcome, dear host, to the Doormat Reformation System. Here, you can redeem anything you want from the system store using Resentment Points.” I browsed the shop interface. There were options to redeem a billion-dollar fortune, or superstar status. But the option to redeem A Mother’s Love was grayed out, completely locked. The system noticed my gaze lingering on that grayed-out option and flared up in anger. “Host, your target is your mother!” “Make your mother angry: +1 point.” “Make your mother detest you: +10 points.” “If your mother’s resentment level reaches 500 points, you will unlock every item in this store.” The system tapped an invisible chalkboard aggressively. “If the combined resentment from Richard, Phoebe, and your mother reaches 2,000 points, there will be a massive bonus reward.” “This system absolutely despises spineless cowards!” 2. “Rowan! What on earth did you tell the police? I’ll tear your lying mouth apart!” As soon as we stepped out of the precinct, Richard finally dropped his mask of calm indifference. He was no longer content to let my mother and me fight it out while he stayed comfortably in the shadows. My stepfather swung his hand toward my face. I instinctively ducked, dodging the blow. Off-balance, Richard stumbled forward, nearly face-planting on the concrete. I watched his resentment level instantly spike by 30 points. The system flooded my vision with notifications of beginner gift boxes, too fast for me to read. Furious, Richard turned to Helen, who immediately grabbed his arm and began scolding me. “Rowan, how could you? You promised me you’d take the fall for Phoebe! How could you tell the officers that Phoebe was the one driving? How could you accuse us of forcing you into it?” “I am so incredibly disappointed in you! How could you go back on your word?” “You’ve ruined your sister’s life!” My mother was practically trembling with rage, but oddly enough, her resentment counter didn’t budge. I didn’t get any bonus points from her. In my past life, Phoebe had been jailed for hit-and-run, but because the victim’s family accepted a hefty financial settlement and signed a liability release, her sentence was light. This time, however, things went differently. The victim’s family flatly refused any money, pointing at Phoebe and screaming, “We want justice, not your blood money!” Without the settlement release, Phoebe faced a much longer sentence. Richard absolutely loathed me for it. My mother wept, accusing me of destroying her marriage and ruining the rest of her life with my selfishness. I offered a faint, dry smile. “So, if I don’t go to prison, everyone else’s lives fall apart?” “Then let them fall apart.” Furious, Richard kicked me out of the house. My mother sneered as I packed my things. “Do you honestly think you can survive out there without Richard’s money? You’ve lived a pampered life for too long. You have no idea how brutal the real world is.” Later, sitting in my new apartment, I stared blankly at the beginner rewards interface. Honestly, I had a pretty good idea of how brutal the world could be. [Total Family Resentment: 50 / 2,000] [Target Mother Resentment: 0 / 500] The system clarified that a score of zero didn’t mean she didn’t dislike me; it was simply because my mother’s baseline resentment had been reset to zero for the trial run. “If your mother actually loved you, her resentment score would be in the negatives,” the system chirped. I looked down and opened the beginner packages. Since these points hadn’t come from my primary target, my mother, the reward pool was limited. I chose a rental apartment voucher and a daily allowance of $150, which was non-cumulative and reset at midnight. The other two boxes yielded a physical stamina boost and a mystery box. Not knowing what physical stamina would do, I redeemed it anyway. As for the mystery box, I somehow pulled an Exoneration Voucher. The system shrieked in my head, “No! Absolutely not! I am banning this item! You cannot use this voucher!” The voucher was essentially a reality-warping tool that could alter societal norms. I frowned. “Why would I ever use something like that?” I dragged it to the recycle bin, converting it into extra physical stamina points. Such a voucher would rewrite the collective consciousness of society. If I used it, it would mean every hit-and-run driver in the world would suddenly be deemed innocent. I wasn’t that desperate. 3. “Where did Rowan get the money for that apartment?” Richard demanded over the phone, his voice sharp with suspicion. The voice on the other end explained, “She’s renting it, Mr. Bennett. We confirmed the lease agreement.” “Where does she get the money to rent a luxury apartment like that?!” Richard slammed his hand on the desk. His daughter was suffering in a holding cell, while Rowan was living comfortably in a high-rise. He had kicked her out hoping she would end up on the streets, begging for scraps, not enjoying a luxury lifestyle. “Well, Ms. Rowan is a young, beautiful woman. She might have found some alternative means of support.” That insinuation seemed to soothe Richard’s ego slightly, taking some of the sting out of his anger. My mother, Helen, stood nearby, barely daring to breathe. The moment Richard hung up, he turned on her. “Did you give her the money for that place?” “No! I swear I didn’t! I haven’t given her a single cent!” Richard eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t believe you. She’s your daughter. How could you not help her behind my back?” Helen forced a submissive smile. “A child who doesn’t listen isn’t a daughter to me.” I hadn’t expected my mother to track me down. Richard was threatening to divorce her, furious that she had given him false hope only to fail him. He claimed he would have preferred not knowing about the possibility of a scapegoat at all. My mother begged me to change my statement and take Phoebe’s place. She wept, “This is the only family I have left, Rowan. Do you really want to destroy your mother’s last chance at happiness?” A fresh wave of disappointment washed over me. I felt a sudden urge to play with her mind. “Actually, I might know a way to get Phoebe off the hook.” Helen’s eyes lit up with hope. But the words felt heavy in my mouth, and I quickly lost interest in the game. “Never mind. It’s probably not a good idea anyway.” My mother’s hopeful expression instantly shattered into raw fury. [System Alert: Primary target’s resentment +1 point.] [Congratulations! First progress made on the main quest.] [Main Quest Reward Progress: 1/50. Total Progress: 1/500.] I looked at her, bringing up an old wound. “That car was supposed to be my graduation gift. Why did you give it to Phoebe instead?” “Oh, don’t be so petty,” Helen muttered, her eyes narrowing with familiar disdain. “You’re my biological daughter. Phoebe isn’t. It’s only natural that I treat her a little better to keep the peace. You have no idea how hard it is to be a stepmother!” I let out a soft, hollow laugh. My chest felt numb. “Well, I suppose it was karma. I was the one who was supposed to get into an accident. Phoebe just took my place. Since that car is so protective of its owner, you should have her return it to me.” “Is that why you framed her, Rowan?” “Framed her?” I scoffed. “You tried to coerce me into taking the fall for a crime I didn’t commit. That is framing.” “It was your car in the first place!” Helen snapped. “And Phoebe took it. Because you gave it to her,” I countered. My mother continued to pelt me with cold insults. Years ago, this tactic would have torn me apart. Now, it just felt pathetic. Strangely, her resentment counter didn’t rise any further during our argument. I felt a pang of frustration, wondering if I was failing the system’s objective. Just then, Richard called her. “I managed to get Phoebe out on bail.” Using his connections and money, Richard had secured Phoebe’s temporary release. The first thing Phoebe did was call Helen. The moment my mother answered the phone, my system interface flashed. Her resentment toward me instantly jumped by 5 points. [Congratulations! Primary target’s resentment progress: 6/500.] 4. When Phoebe met Helen, she broke down in tears, her voice filled with accusation. “Mom, you promised Rowan would help me! How could you just watch her back out and let her ruin my life?” “I’ll handle it, sweetie. Don’t worry. Rowan is my daughter, and I know exactly how to deal with her.” Phoebe wept gracefully, which broke Richard’s heart. Helen comforted her with endless warmth. Watching them together, they looked like a perfect, loving family. I stood to the side, once again feeling like an unwanted intruder. But to confirm whether my mother’s resentment toward me could only be triggered by Phoebe, I forced myself to stay. Phoebe looked up, her face a portrait of fragile innocence. “You’re so good to me, Mom. You’re the best stepmother in the world. Even my real mother couldn’t have been better.” I smiled mockingly and took a seat. The system whispered in my ear, “If you complete the main quest, you can unlock and redeem the ‘Mother’s Love’ reward.” “No,” I replied instantly in my mind. I had absolutely no desire to receive any affection from a reformed version of this woman. I would rather have nothing. The system sighed with pity. “What I mean is, I can transfer you to another world. You can start over as a baby and have a truly perfect mother.” A spark of genuine motivation finally ignited within me. Helen walked over to me, her brow furrowed. “Rowan, help Phoebe. Do it for me. Have some pity on your mother. It wasn’t easy raising you, and I finally have a stable home. You wouldn’t want to destroy that, would you?” I looked her dead in the eye. “I don’t pity you.” “I pity myself.” 5. Being out on bail didn’t mean Phoebe was safe. She was barred from leaving the city and had to report to the police station regularly. Within days, she grew visibly gaunt. Their defense attorney pulled Richard aside and explained that the key to the case lay with the victim’s family. If they could reach a private settlement and secure a signed release, Phoebe’s sentence would be minimal. When Richard went to negotiate, he finally discovered why the victim’s family was so unyielding. In her arrogance, before realizing I wouldn’t take the fall, Phoebe had visited the family privately and mocked them, trying to provoke them so they would demand a harsher sentence to ensure I stayed in prison longer. Her scheme had backfired spectacularly. Now, the grieving family was so enraged they refused any financial compensation, demanding the maximum penalty for the driver. Richard placed immense pressure on Helen. “Your stepfather is going to divorce me, Rowan,” Helen cried, tossing a set of papers onto the table in front of me. “Please, just help me this once. For my happiness. Once you’re out, we’ll still be a family!” “Will you die if you’re not married?” I asked coldly. “Can you not survive without Richard Bennett? You’re asking your own daughter to go to prison for his spoiled kid, and you don’t see any problem with that?” Helen looked defensive. “What’s wrong with that? We’re mother and daughter. There shouldn’t be any grudges between us. You’re just being petty and holding a grudge.” “Phoebe isn’t my own flesh and blood. If I don’t treat her well, the whole world will call me a wicked stepmother.” “Let’s legally sever our relationship,” I said quietly. “I wish you, Richard, and Phoebe a wonderful life together.” Helen rolled her eyes. “I’m your mother. Stop talking nonsense. I went through hell to give birth to you. You can’t just sever ties whenever you feel like it. It doesn’t work that way.” I pulled a document from my drawer and placed it on the table. It stated that I would resolve Phoebe’s legal crisis on one condition: Helen had to sign an agreement to legally sever all familial ties with me, waiving all future support obligations and becoming total strangers. “Rowan, you really want to cut me out of your life?” Helen’s face went pale. Her quiet, obedient daughter had suddenly turned completely cold. “Did someone put you up to this? Don’t listen to those gossipers, sweetie. I love you.” “You’re my daughter. I worked so hard to raise you. What will I do without you in the future?” I pulled the agreement back. “So, you actually care about having me as a daughter?” I smiled. “Good. Because I have no intention of saving Phoebe anyway.” Panicking, Helen snatched the paper and scribbled her signature. To her, it was probably just a worthless piece of paper she could tear up whenever she pleased. Her signature stared back at me from the bottom of the page. My heart turned to ice. “Are you really going to take the fall for Phoebe now?” she asked, her eyes full of desperate expectation. “I will negotiate with the victim’s family,” I said flatly. “I will do my best to get her sentence reduced.” Helen froze, realizing she had been played. “You ungrateful brat!” she screamed. “How dare you lie to your own mother!” “Negotiate? What good is that? She’ll still have to go to prison!” “Are you even human?” I looked at her with pure, unadulterated disgust. My expression caught her off guard. In all my years of suffering her abuse, I had never looked at her with such visceral revulsion. For the first time, Helen looked genuinely terrified.

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  • Wife Vs His Ex’s Dog

    Three years of marriage, and Marcus cheated on me ninety-nine times. I endured it all in silence, keeping my head down and swallowing the humiliation. Until his mistress’s dog got pregnant. Marcus brought the pampered beast back to our house, demanding that I, despite my life-threatening allergies, act as its full-time nanny. And because I once accidentally locked the woman and her dog outside in the yard, Marcus grabbed a handful of loose dog hair from the floor and rammed it deep into my throat. As I choked on the dry fur, my eyes bloodshot and straining for air, his mistress made a pathetic, half-hearted attempt to play peacekeeper, telling him not to go too far. Marcus merely shrugged, his eyes cold and empty. “Why worry? She is just a barren hag. Who else would want her besides me?” Later, the boy from next door, who had loved me in secret for years, seized the chance to pull me out of that hell. And Marcus went completely mad with regret. He ended up dragging his shattered body from beneath the wheels of a semi-truck, clinging to his last agonizing breath just to beg me to look at him one more time. But I was already gone. 1 Just as I lifted my foot to walk out the front door, Marcus’s sharp, impatient voice cut through the foyer. “Take your trash with you when you leave. It is an eyesore.” Standing beside him, his mother let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Marcus, why even waste your breath on a useless waste of space like her? Three years in this house and she couldn’t even give us a child.” She sneered, looking down her nose at me. “She is not even worth as much as Maggie’s dog. We should have never let her through our doors in the first place.” Maggie, standing slightly behind them, quickly masked her smug satisfaction with a look of mock concern. “Mrs. Sinclair, please do not say such things. It is not polite.” I did not have the energy to argue with these people anymore. Turning away to leave, I felt a sudden blur of white fur bolt toward me. Before I could react, the dog sank its sharp teeth deep into my forearm. A blinding spike of pain shot from my arm straight to my chest. I froze, staring down at the animal. Its muzzle was smeared with my blood, its dark eyes locked onto mine with a vicious, unnerving intensity. Marcus’s brow furrowed slightly. “Eric, you…” Before he could finish his sentence, Maggie let out a dramatic gasp. “Marcus, look! What is wrong with Buster?” The white dog, which had just savagely bitten me, instantly whimpered, shrinking into the corner of the room like a terrified, abused creature. Maggie squeezed out a few tears, her shoulders trembling. Marcus immediately pulled her into his arms, murmuring sweet reassurances before dialing a private veterinarian. Ten minutes later, the vet gave his diagnosis. “The dog is perfectly fine. He is just a little startled.” Marcus’s deep voice hardened, thick with suppressed anger as he glared at me. “Look how badly you terrified Buster. Apologize to him right now.” I knew exactly what happened to people who defied Marcus. A few years ago, Maggie and I had both entered a national design competition. Fearing I would overshadow her, Marcus ordered me to withdraw and let her take the prize. When I refused, he had his security team beat me until I was hospitalized with broken bones. I still remembered him standing over my hospital bed, spitting his words. “A low-class nobody like you thinks she can compete with Maggie? Go back home and scrub the toilets where you belong.” Pulling myself back to the present, I slowly bowed my head and looked at the white dog. “I am sorry,” I whispered. Seeing my quick submission, a flicker of surprise crossed Marcus’s eyes. His mother sniffed, crossing her arms. “About time you learned your place. Do not think that just because you wear the title of Mrs. Sinclair, you can do whatever you want. You are not worth a single strand of Maggie’s hair.” She pointed toward the back of the house. “Since you are leaving, use the servant’s entrance. A disgraced woman like you does not deserve to walk out the front door.” “No, please,” Maggie said, rushing forward to grab my hand. Her voice was dripping with false sweet sympathy. “Do not kick Eric out because of me. I will feel so guilty if you do this.” “Maggie,” Marcus murmured, his expression softening into a tenderness I had never once received. “You are far too kind for your own good. People will walk all over you if you keep letting them.” I yanked my hand out of her grasp to turn away, but Maggie immediately collapsed to the floor with a soft cry. Looking down at her tear-streaked face, I almost wanted to laugh. This pathetic, childish performance was her favorite trick, and she never seemed to tire of it. What was worse was that Marcus fell for it every single time. “Maggie!” Marcus panicked, kneeling down to scoop her up. He cradled her swollen ankle, his touch incredibly gentle. His mother pointed a shaking, manicured finger at me. “Eric! You malicious snake!” Maggie whimpered against his chest. “Do not be angry with her. I am sure she did not mean to push me.” “Enough!” Marcus snapped, his eyes flashing with a dark, dangerous storm. “Eric, apologize to Maggie right now.” My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a text from my cab driver, letting me know he had just pulled up outside the gates. I tightened my grip on the device, taking two steps toward the exit before Marcus grabbed my shoulder and violently dragged me back inside. 2 “You are not leaving this house until you apologize.” With a harsh shove, Marcus threw me down the stairs into the pitch-black basement. It was a concrete tomb, the temperature hovering near freezing. Leaning against the heavy wooden door, I could hear Marcus talking to his assistant in the hallway above. “Sir, even if Mrs. Sinclair was in the wrong, this seems a bit extreme,” the assistant murmured, his voice laced with concern. “It is freezing down there, and the air is terrible. What if she gets sick?” “Silence,” Marcus replied, his voice flat and unyielding. “This is her punishment. She must learn her place.” He paused, adding a cruel scoff. “And do not worry about her faking an illness to get attention. Weeds like Eric do not die that easily.” His words drifted through the cracks of the door like a freezing draft, settling deep in my bones until my chest felt entirely numb. I lost track of how many hours passed before the heavy lock finally clicked open. When I dragged myself up the wooden stairs, shivering and pale, the first thing I saw was Marcus kneeling on the floor, carefully wrapping a piece of white fabric around Maggie’s dog as a makeshift diaper. The fabric looked terribly familiar. I stepped closer, my heart stopping as I recognized the delicate lace and hand-sewn pearls. It was the wedding dress my mother had stayed up nights to make for me right before she passed away. “Marcus!” My voice cracked, raw and trembling. Meeting my furious gaze, Marcus remained entirely unfazed. “It is just a piece of cloth from a dead woman. Why make a scene? Using it for Maggie’s dog is an honor. You should be kneeling and thanking us.” Seeing the ghostly pallor of my face, his tone softened just a fraction. “Fine. If you are going to cry about it, I will buy you a new designer dress later.” “Oh, dear,” Maggie coughed softly, leaning against the doorframe. Marcus’s attention instantly snapped back to her. “Maggie, what is wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” “It is nothing,” she murmured, her eyes drifting to his chest. “Just a little cold. By the way, Marcus, what is that silver medallion around your neck? It looks so cheap and ugly.” “It is cheap,” Marcus said without a second thought. He unclasped the silver medallion and tossed it carelessly into the trash can, treating it like a piece of filthy waste. I stared at the trash can. I had spent three weeks kneeling on cold stone floors, climbing nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine steps to a mountaintop cathedral just to get that protective medallion blessed for him when he was fighting for his life in the ICU three years ago. If I had known then what lay ahead, I would have never spilled my blood on those steps. “Marcus,” Maggie purred, tugging at his sleeve. “I am hungry. Would you make something for me?” “You little glutton,” he chuckled, pinching her cheek. “I really cannot say no to you.” The moment Marcus walked into the kitchen, Maggie’s sweet smile vanished. She grabbed my arm with surprising strength and dragged me toward her massive walk-in closet. Inside, hundreds of expensive, handcrafted designer bags were lined up on illuminated shelves. “Are you jealous?” Maggie whispered, her voice dripping with venom. “Marcus made every single one of these for me with his own hands.” To please her, the busy, powerful head of the Sinclair empire had taken professional leatherworking classes just so she could have three hundred and sixty-five unique bags to carry throughout the year. What a beautiful, touching love story. “Do you want to know why Marcus refused to send his medical team to save your mother on her deathbed?” Maggie leaned in close, her eyes glittering with malice. “It was because I scraped my foot that day. Marcus was so worried about me that he ordered every single doctor in his employ to stay and run tests on me.” She pulled out her phone and swiped to a photo. “Look for yourself.” On the screen, Marcus was cradling Maggie’s foot in his lap with an expression of pure, desperate devotion, treating her like a priceless treasure while my mother drew her last breaths in an empty hospital room. A white-hot rage flared in my chest. Just as my hand twitched to strike her, I heard Marcus’s heavy footsteps approaching from behind. Before I could even blink, Maggie threw herself onto the hardwood floor. She raised her own hands, violently slapping herself across the face several times until her cheeks flushed red. “Eric, I am so sorry!” she wailed, clutching my knees. “I beg of you, please do not have Buster put down! Please do not send me to those awful men!” 3 “Eric!” Marcus’s voice roared through the room, his eyes dark with an unspeakable fury. He marched forward and slammed a thick stack of papers directly into my face. The sharp edges of the sheets sliced across my cheek, but I barely felt it. “You wanted to leave? You have got it. Sign the papers and get out.” I fell back onto the floor, my fingers trembling as I picked up the scattered pages of the divorce agreement. Without another look at me, Marcus lifted Maggie into his arms and carried her toward the master bedroom. Suddenly, a sharp, twisting pain bloomed in my lower abdomen. I looked down, freezing in horror as I realized my trousers were rapidly staining with deep, crimson blood. My missed period. The fatigue. The nausea. A terrifying realization hit me. “Marcus! Please, wait! Take me to the hospital!” The only response was the loud, uncaring slam of the bedroom door. Through the thin walls, the muffled sounds of their laughter and soft, intimate whispers began to drift out. “Marcus, please… I think I am pregnant. I am bleeding… I am going to lose the baby.” Maggie’s amused chuckle cut through my desperate cries. “I really must hand it to your wife, Marcus. She can tell the most outrageous lies with a straight face.” In the hallway, two maids whispered and giggled. “The discarded wife is getting desperate. Look at her trying to play the pity card to win him back.” “Too bad the master only has eyes for Miss Maggie. Some people just do not know when to give up.” Fighting the waves of dizziness, I reached into my pocket and dialed emergency services. But before the call could connect, one of the maids snatched the phone from my hand. The head maid smirked, slipping off her shoe and holding her bare foot inches from my face. “You want your phone back? Crawl over and beg me for it.” Clutching my stomach, I curled into a ball on the cold floor, retreating into myself as the pain intensified. How pathetic. I was the legal Mrs. Sinclair, yet even the household staff could torment me without fear of consequence. Before the darkness finally claimed my consciousness, Marcus’s voice floated from the bedroom. “Is that so? Then when is she finally going to die? I wish she would hurry up and make room for you.” The maid gave my limp shoulder a sharp kick. “Did you hear that? The master wants to know when you are finally going to kick the bucket.” When I finally opened my eyes, the sterile smell of disinfectant told me I was in a hospital room. Marcus was standing at the foot of the bed, his face pale and tight with anger. “Eric, when did you get pregnant? Why did you not tell me?” I let out a weak, lifeless laugh. “Did I not? I screamed it at your door.” Marcus froze, a rare flicker of genuine panic and regret crossing his features. Seeing his hesitation, Maggie quickly stepped forward, her voice soft and calculated. “Is she really pregnant, Marcus? I find that hard to believe. Didn’t the family doctor say you had a incredibly low sperm count?” The regret in Marcus’s eyes instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, burning disgust. “I should have known,” he sneered, looking at me as if I were a piece of filth. “Who knows whose bastard you were trying to pin on me anyway? It is a good thing it is gone. It saves me the disgust of looking at it.” “Marcus!” Before we could argue further, his phone rang. His mother’s sharp, screeching voice echoed clearly in the quiet room. “Marcus! Are you still hovering over that worthless girl? Have you forgotten what she did to your sister? Have you forgotten how she drove Lily to her death?” “Get back here this instant!” At the mention of his late sister, Marcus’s gaze turned murderous. Suddenly, the door to my hospital room was burst open. A crowd of reporters surged inside, their cameras flashing blindly in my face. One reporter shoved a microphone toward Marcus. “Mr. Sinclair, can you tell us why your wife was rushed to the hospital with severe bleeding?” Marcus straightened his suit jacket, his expression entirely detached. “How should I know? She has never been one to keep to herself.” His words were like throwing gasoline onto a fire. By the next morning, my name was trending at the very top of every social media platform. The headlines were ruthless. Eric Sinclair’s Secret Wild Life Exposed. The Dark Side of a High-Society Wife. Anonymous sources claimed I was a regular at exclusive underground clubs, while others fabricated stories about me being an escort from the notorious Velvet Lounge who could be bought for a price. The lies clung to me like leeches, draining the last of my strength. On the day I was discharged, a mob of paparazzi blocked the hospital exit, swarming me the moment I stepped outside. “Mrs. Sinclair, did your husband find out about your secret encounters? Is that why you lost the baby?” “Is it true you used to work as Call Girl Number Eight? What is your nightly rate these days? Would a hundred dollars cover it?” “We are willing to pay for an exclusive interview, Eric. Where are you working now? Maybe we can bring some business your way.” The mocking laughter and flashing bulbs made the world spin. I bit my lip until it bled, pushing through the crowd and running blindly down the street. When I finally managed to lose them in a quiet alley, my phone buzzed with a notification. 4 It was a public statement from Marcus, officially severing all ties with me. The attached image showed him holding Maggie’s hand, the caption reading: You are my forever. It does not matter that we started late. How tragic. During our three years together, he had hidden me away like a dirty secret. But with Maggie, he wanted the entire world to know. A text message from Maggie popped up on my screen right after. How does it feel to be dragged through the dirt by everyone? Don’t get comfortable, Eric. The real show is just beginning. You think you can fight me? You don’t stand a chance. As the days passed, the vicious rumors about my personal life only grew wilder and more detailed. I knew Marcus was behind the media push, using his massive influence to ensure I was completely ruined. Later that week, Marcus texted me to meet him at a quiet cafe. When he saw how hollow and exhausted I looked, a flash of conflict crossed his face, though it was quickly masked by his usual cold arrogance. “Eric, do not hate me for this. You brought this on yourself. You owe this to my sister. If it was not for your jealousy, Lily would still be alive today.” “Yes,” I replied quietly, sitting back in my chair. “It was all my fault.” I was tired of fighting. If they wanted a villain to blame for Lily’s tragic suicide, then I would be their villain. It did not matter anymore. Marcus frowned, clearly bothered by my listless, easy surrender. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, a violent tremor shook the building. The light fixtures swung wildly overhead. The floor buckled beneath our feet, and the sound of shattering glass filled the air. An earthquake. In an instant, Marcus lunged across the table, pulling me into his arms as the ceiling began to collapse. He shielded me with his body, carrying me toward the exit as debris rained down around us. For a brief, fleeting moment, his familiar scent wrapped around me, and I felt a strange sense of safety. But then, a sharp whine echoed from the back of the building. “Buster!” Maggie’s voice screamed from outside. Marcus froze. He looked toward the exit, then back at the collapsing hallway where the dog was trapped. Without a single word, he let go of me. He turned around and ran back into the dust, leaving me behind without a backward glance. Three years of marriage, and my life was worth less than his mistress’s dog. I couldn’t help but let out a quiet, bitter laugh as the dust settled around me. Through the crumbling walls, I could hear their voices outside. “Marcus! Thank God you and Buster are safe! I do not know what I would have done if anything happened to you.” “I am right here, Maggie. We are both fine.” After comforting her, Marcus finally seemed to remember that I was still inside the collapsing structure. He tried to run back toward the doors, but several bystanders and staff members held him back. “Sir, it is too dangerous! You cannot go back in there!” “The whole place is coming down! That woman is probably already dead anyway. Going back is just suicide!” Before the speaker could finish, a sharp slap echoed through the crowd. “Shut up!” Marcus roared, his face pale with a terrifying rage. “Who gave you permission to speak about my wife like that?” But I was no longer in the building. I had already crawled through a side window and made my way to a cab, heading straight for the airport. As I waited for my flight to board, I pulled out my phone. One by one, I deleted his number, his photos, and every single trace of Marcus Sinclair from my life. Goodbye, Marcus. Actually, let’s make that never see you again.

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  • The Fake Ghost Of His Lost Love

    I stayed by Evan’s side for five long years. Finally, I got the proposal I had been waiting for. But the very next day, he died in a horrific car crash. The people responsible were the Crofts, a family of untouchable elites. Their lawyer tossed a stack of glossy reports onto the table. “Evan was driving drunk. He also had a documented history of severe clinical depression. But thankfully, our young master walked away without a scratch. Because of that, the family has decided not to press charges against the deceased. Here is a check for a hundred grand. We consider the matter settled.” Nothing made sense. Evan was deathly allergic to alcohol. And I was the one who pulled him out of the darkest trenches of his depression. I knew his mind better than anyone. Seeing my silence, the lawyer’s polite tone turned sharp. “Take the money. It makes things easier for everyone. This was just a tragic accident, right?” I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye. My fingers closed over the crisp check. “Right. An accident.” One year later, I became the private nurse for that very same Croft heir. 1 Ever since his organ transplant, Sebastian Croft had to come in for regular checkups. Today, he left the clinic in a rush. He forgot his anti-rejection medication. After my shift ended, I took the prescription bottle and drove straight to his sprawling estate. The butler opened the heavy oak doors. “Mr. Croft isn’t home yet. You can leave the medication with me.” Before I could hand it over, a sharp, furious voice rang out from behind me. “You again!” I turned around. Stella stepped out of a sleek black luxury car, her face twisted in a vicious sneer as she marched up to me. “You actually think carving your face to look like mine is going to make Sebastian look twice at you?” “Stop dreaming!” I lowered my eyes, playing the picture of innocent grievance. “I am strictly Mr. Croft’s private nurse. I don’t have any ulterior motives. You’re misunderstanding the situation, Miss Stella.” She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Am I? Well, perfect timing. My new movie is short a stunt double. You can take the job.” I knew exactly what game she was playing. For the past two years, Stella had used Sebastian’s backing to skyrocket to A-list fame. The tabloids constantly linked them together. But they never made it official. The Croft family despised her. To them, she was just a cheap actress, completely unworthy of their blue-blood lineage. Now, a girl with a face strikingly similar to hers had appeared. Seeing how close I was getting to Sebastian made her skin crawl with insecurity. She wanted to drag me through the mud. If I agreed to be her stunt double, my status would plummet even lower than a basic extra. “I appreciate the offer, Miss Stella. But I am Mr. Croft’s medical provider. He needs me on call.” She lunged forward, her manicured fingers digging brutally into my jaw. Her eyes were venomous. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? All I have to do is say the word, and Sebastian will hand you over on a silver platter. I could have you tied up and tossed onto a table for a bunch of studio executives. You think you’d walk away clean?” “Really?” I whispered back. “If you’re so powerful, why are you standing out here in the driveway? Why don’t you just let yourself in?” The truth was simple. The Crofts had explicitly banned Stella from entering the mansion. That single sentence hit an absolute nerve. She froze. A second later, her hand flew through the air, slapping me hard across the cheek. “You bitch!” Sebastian appeared behind her like a ghost. His voice was a low, terrifying growl. “Back away from her.” Stella recoiled in sheer panic. She instantly switched modes, throwing herself at Sebastian’s chest with a flawless display of crocodile tears. “I canceled all my meetings just to come wait for you! But she stood here insulting me, telling me I’m just a cheap actress who doesn’t deserve you.” “Sebastian, I willingly threw myself into the filthy entertainment industry just to build a name for myself. I wanted to be famous enough to stand by your side. I didn’t know your parents would hate me for it. I was willing to be your secret, to stay in the shadows while everyone called me a whore. But how dare a complete stranger disrespect me like that!” I shook my head frantically, my eyes wide with terror. “I didn’t… I swear I didn’t.” Sebastian raised a hand. He cut my sentence off entirely. “Don’t come back here. This isn’t a place you belong.” Tears welled in my eyes as I offered a weak, obedient nod. But the moment I turned my back and walked away, a cold smile crept onto my lips. Because right as he said those harsh words, I saw the deep, agonizing reluctance burning in his eyes. That was all I needed. 2 A man like Sebastian was intensely territorial. Whether he truly loved Stella or not, he refused to let anyone disrespect her. She was his property. Questioning her meant questioning him. After that incident, I went back to my quiet routine at the clinic. Soon enough, it was time for his next checkup. But he never showed up. “What’s wrong? Disappointed Sebastian didn’t come running?” Stella strolled into the VIP waiting room, hiding behind oversized sunglasses and a designer mask. She swayed her hips and casually waved a hand. Two massive bodyguards in black suits stormed into the room. They grabbed my arms, pinning me in place. “I’ve been a little busy lately. Almost forgot about you.” Before I could even scream, a brutal strike hit the back of my neck. The world instantly faded to black. When I finally regained consciousness, my wrists were bound tight. I was shoved into a suffocatingly dark, cramped box. Muffled voices drifted from the outside. “Ever since Miss Stella hooked the Croft heir, you’ve completely forgotten about my little establishment.” “Don’t be silly, Mr. Donovan. You know I value our relationship. I brought you a very special gift today. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.” Light violently flooded my vision. As my eyes adjusted to the glaring bulbs, I saw Stella’s triumphant smirk, standing next to a repulsive, middle-aged executive. “She really does look just like you.” Donovan licked his lips. “But…” Stella leaned in, her voice dripping with seductive poison. “Don’t tell me you aren’t satisfied?” He erupted into a disgusting laugh. “Oh, this is a massive upgrade!” Ignoring Stella’s suddenly furious, flushed face, he reached a thick hand out toward me. Stella looked at my trembling, terrified expression and smiled coldly. She turned on her heel and headed for the heavy steel door. “Enjoy yourself, Mr. Donovan. I’ll wait outside. Everything is completely off the books.” The second the door clicked shut, the sheer terror vanished from my face. Stella had absolutely no idea what kind of hell I had crawled out of. She thought I was some weak, spineless little nurse she could crush like a bug. When I was nineteen, I was abducted by a trafficking ring and dragged into a remote, forgotten rust-belt town. The locals chained me up in a filthy basement, intending to sell me off as a birthing tool. They looked at my pale skin and quiet demeanor and thought I was an easy target. When the first man walked out of that basement, his face was unrecognizable, pouring blood from where his ear used to be. When the second man dragged himself out, he was clutching his ruined groin, leaving a thick trail of crimson behind him. They were terrified of me. They locked me in pitch darkness. To escape the iron cuffs, I intentionally snapped my own wrist, ignoring the blinding agony as I squeezed my mangled hand through the metal ring. I ran through the dense woods for twenty miles without stopping. That was when I met Evan. He saved me. I was never a helpless victim. I was a feral, dangerous animal cornered in the dark. It was Evan’s gentle patience that slowly tamed me. He pulled me out of the madness and taught me how to be human again. I packed away my violent edges and stayed by his side, peaceful and content. But everything bright and beautiful in my life had been slaughtered by the Crofts. 3 I hadn’t planned on Sebastian hosting a corporate banquet in the very same building. I was fully prepared to handle Donovan myself. But suddenly, the heavy door was kicked off its hinges. By the time Sebastian stepped into the room, Donovan was already passed out on the floor, groaning in a pool of his own blood. My scrubs were splattered in crimson. My fist was tightly wrapped around a silver steak knife. As Sebastian marched toward me, I instantly buried my lethal composure. My eyes glazed over with hollow shock, and I stood frozen in place like a traumatized victim. He didn’t say a single word. He shrugged off his tailored overcoat and draped it over my shivering shoulders. The moment the warm fabric touched me, I snapped out of my daze and began to sob hysterically. “I didn’t mean to! It was Miss Stella. She tied me up…” He pulled me firmly into his chest, his voice a low, soothing hum. “I’ve got you. I’m taking you out of here.” As we walked out into the corridor, Stella lunged forward, desperately clawing at Sebastian’s sleeve. “Sebastian, you have to listen to me!” “Let go.” His voice was colder than liquid nitrogen. “It was Donovan! He kept making aggressive moves on me, and I…” “So you served her up on a silver platter to take your place?” Sebastian’s eyes were lethal. “She is a medical worker trying to live a quiet life. What the hell did she ever do to you? How did she cross you?” Stella froze. She had clearly never seen this terrifying, merciless side of him. But I had. After Evan died, I was forced to look at those fabricated police reports. Drunk driving. Clinical depression. Suicide. The lies made me so violently angry that I went to the private hospital to demand the truth from Sebastian himself. I had slipped past the guards and stood outside his recovery room. I saw him lying against the pillows. His voice was dead and devoid of any human empathy. “Get a hundred grand ready. Test her waters. See what she knows.” The lawyer beside him nodded. “And if she takes the money, sir? What’s our next move?” Sebastian’s tone was made of ice. “Weeds grow back if you don’t burn the roots. Do I need to explain everything to you?” A few hours later, I accepted the money. And I vanished completely. Exactly as I predicted, the very next day, my old apartment mysteriously caught fire and burned to the foundation. Every single medical file on Evan at the hospital was wiped clean. Even the small cemetery plot I had purchased for him was inexplicably vandalized and torched. It was as if Evan never existed. Sebastian’s methods were ruthless and absolute. Right now, Stella’s desperate, weeping act wasn’t moving him an inch. “I will say this one last time. Let go.” She clung tighter, her voice tearing at the seams. “Sebastian, I was wrong! I swear to God I’ll never do anything like this again. Please, don’t look at me like that!” A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the hallway. Tucked against Sebastian’s chest, I let out a perfectly timed, delicate whimper. I furrowed my brows and let my body go entirely limp, pretending to pass out from the trauma. “Stella. Don’t ever let me see your face again.” She was finished. To this day, she probably still couldn’t understand how a random nurse managed to steal Sebastian’s heart in just a few short encounters. I looked just like her, didn’t I? Why was the outcome so drastically different? What she didn’t know was that Sebastian only elevated her because she shared a passing resemblance to his true obsession. Back then, I took the hundred grand the Crofts paid me and split it. I spent sixty thousand on a brutally efficient private investigator. Within two months, he cracked the Croft family vault open. Hidden in the archives was a story from years ago. It came with a photograph of a young girl who looked exactly like Stella. She wore a simple white sundress. She looked pure and untainted. Her name was Evelyn. She was Sebastian’s first love. Unfortunately, she was poor. The Croft family absolutely refused the match. Back then, Sebastian was young and powerless. He could do nothing but watch Evelyn die in a tragic, unexpected car accident. An accident orchestrated by his own mother. Until he met Stella. She had the same face. Even though her personality was loud and abrasive, keeping her around was enough to soothe the agonizing grief in his chest. But I used the remaining forty thousand dollars on reconstructive surgery. When another face resembling Evelyn’s appeared—but this one possessing the exact same gentle, quiet temperament as the dead girl… Stella was destined for the garbage bin. 4 I was brought back to Sebastian’s private estate. Every inch of the mansion screamed obscene, suffocating wealth. Two maids were assigned exclusively to me. They drew my bath and brought me fresh silk clothes. “This bathroom looks like something out of a royal palace,” I whispered, playing the awestruck commoner. “It must be incredibly expensive.” One of the maids offered a polite smile. “Yes, miss. Mr. Croft enjoys a good soak. The master bath renovations alone cost half a million dollars.” Half a million. Evan’s entire life was bought for a fraction of that. The heavy door clicked open, and Sebastian walked in. I kept my eyes glued to the floor, nervously twisting the hem of my shirt, playing the part of a terrified deer caught in headlights. “Don’t be afraid. You are perfectly safe here.” I didn’t hold back anymore. When I finally looked up at him, two lines of tears spilled silently down my cheeks. I opened my hand, revealing the plastic prescription bottle I had clutched the entire time. I reached it out toward him. “Mr. Croft… these are your pills.” “I was just trying to deliver them to you. But the last time I was here, you told me I didn’t belong. I just want to put these down and leave before I upset you again…” Sebastian reached out and gently tilted my chin up. His dark eyes were swirling with an intense, agonizing yearning. “Evelyn.” “It was my fault. From now on, you’re staying here. Understand?” I offered a frantic, confused nod. Deep down, my heart was racing with cold excitement. What was wrong with playing the stand-in? As long as I had the face and the personality, slipping a knife into his heart would be effortless. When you pour every ounce of your soul into loving someone, only to realize they never cared about you at all—and that they actually want you to suffer a fate worse than death—the despair is absolute. It was a far more delicious punishment than just putting a bullet in his head. That night, Sebastian put me in the bedroom directly adjacent to his. I stood by the massive windows, staring out into the dark estate. The memories I had kept buried began to violently resurface. Evan used to be a wealthy kid too. But his father’s mining company collapsed in a catastrophic accident. His father died, the funds evaporated, and the family was plunged into total ruin. His mother couldn’t handle the poverty and fled the country. She left Evan alone to raise his little brother, Richard. Back then, I used to dig through the bruised produce bins at the local market just to survive. Splurging on instant ramen felt like a luxury. But Evan was always so unfailingly gentle. When he smiled, the warmth in his eyes was enough to cure the bleak, miserable reality we lived in. Then, I started finding his hidden pills. Whenever he used the bathroom, a faint, metallic tang of blood always lingered in the air. I was working as an orderly at the clinic when I stumbled across his chart by accident. That was when I found out he was deeply, dangerously sick. Richard was just a kid back then, and he was the first to completely break under the pressure. That was the only time I ever screamed at Evan. “I was an orphan! I don’t have parents! I don’t know what it feels like to lose a family empire, but I am here with you! Richard needs you! If you carve yourself up and die, what happens to me? What happens to your brother?” “When they chained me up in that basement, my chances of surviving were zero. But I used my own two feet to drag myself out of hell, and I found you! You saved me, and I am going to save you! Evan, we can survive this! We will survive this!” He started cooperating with the therapy. He started fighting to live. I poured every ounce of my energy and time into pulling him out of the dark and into the sun. Happiness was finally within our grasp. And then? The Croft family realized that Evan’s body was a flawless genetic match for Sebastian. He had the same incredibly rare blood type. He had the perfect, healthy organs. So they used their bottomless bank accounts to script a tragedy. They orchestrated the car crash. They assumed that a kid with a dead father, a runaway mother, and a helpless younger brother was just a bug on the windshield. Even if he died under suspicious circumstances, who was going to make a wave? They thought he was nobody. But he was my entire world.

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  • Gone Past, Fresh Future

    1 On my wedding day, my fiancé’s secretary drenched my parents in red wine. Right there on the red carpet, my father’s hairpiece was knocked askew, my mother’s designer gown was soaked to the skin, and a wave of snickers rippled through the high-society guests. Furious, I gathered the heavy skirts of my wedding dress and stormed into the bridal suite, only to find Thomas gently wiping the wine stains from Tavi’s hands. “It was just an accident,” he said, his voice casual and indifferent. He didn’t even bother to look up at me. “Don’t be so petty.” I stared at his hand, wrapped protectively around Tavi’s wrist, and a sudden, sharp laugh escaped my throat. “Thomas, the wedding is off.” He finally raised his head. “Ann, stop making a scene.” “Do you even realize what day it is?” I looked at him, then at Tavi, who stood shivering behind him with tears pooling in her eyes. She was wearing her bridesmaid dress, shrinking back as if she were a defenseless victim. “I’m so sorry,” Tavi whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s all my fault. I only wanted to help your parents adjust their clothes before the ceremony, but I lost my footing.” “So,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you’re saying my parents deserved to be covered in Cabernet, and we should thank you for your thoughtfulness?” Tavi’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Thomas stepped in front of her, shielding her further. “Ann, do you have to be so venomous? Tavi already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at the man I had loved for seven years. I used to think I knew him better than anyone. Now, he felt like a total stranger. Outside that door were hundreds of guests and my humiliated parents. Inside, my fiancé and his secretary were playing the roles of the noble protector and the damsel in distress. “What do I want?” I repeated, taking a slow step toward him. “Thomas, you know my father has a weak heart. You know how much my mother values her dignity. Today, they stood in front of the entire city, taking the brunt of everyone’s mockery for our sake. And you, my groom, are in here comforting the person who did it.” My voice didn’t tremble. It was flat, cold, and entirely hollow. Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “I told you, she didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve already sent my assistant to handle the situation. I’ll go explain things to your parents in a minute.” Explain? With what? His silver tongue? Was he going to patch up my parents’ shattered dignity with a few empty words? A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Every single time, it was the same excuse. She’s just my assistant, Ann, don’t overthink it. She’s trying to make it in the city all on her own, it’s only right that we look out for her. Yes, she had it so hard. So hard that she could call him away in the middle of our anniversary dinners. So hard that she could buy the exact same matching couple’s sweaters we owned and claim they were company uniforms. So hard that she could completely ruin our wedding day. Because I loved him, I was expected to be gracious, understanding, and silent. But why? I reached behind my back and began aggressively tearing at the laces of my wedding dress. The custom, six-figure gown I had spent three months perfecting was ripped open with brutal force. Thomas’s eyes widened in shock. “Ann, have you lost your mind?!” He lunged forward to stop me, but I stepped aside. The heavy silk slid off my body, pooling on the dusty floor in a ruined, crumpled heap of white. It looked exactly like the wreckage of our seven years together. I stood before him in nothing but a simple silk slip. The air conditioning in the suite was blasting, but I didn’t feel the cold. When your heart is dead, the chill can’t reach you anymore. “Thomas, we’re done.” I threw those words at him, turned on my heel, and walked out. Tavi’s gasp and Thomas’s angry shouts were cut short as the heavy door slammed shut behind me. Barefoot, I walked down the freezing tiled corridor, leaving that golden cage behind. When I reached the grand ballroom, I saw my parents. The coordinator had ushered them into a quiet corner. My mother was frantically dabbing at my father’s face with wet napkins. My father’s shoulders were hunched, his usual proud posture entirely gone. The lingering glances of the remaining guests cut through us like knives. I walked over, slipped off my blazer, and draped it over my mother’s damp shoulders. “Dad, Mom,” I said, my throat tight. “Let’s go home.” My mother looked up, seeing me in my slip, and her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Ann, sweetheart, what about the…” My father pushed himself up from the table, his lips trembling, unable to find his words. I didn’t explain. I simply took their hands, and with my spine perfectly straight, I led them out of the venue under the suffocating silence of the room. Behind us, Thomas’s voice echoed through the lobby. “Ann! Stop right there!” There was a rare note of panic in his shout. I didn’t pause. I didn’t look back. Neither did my parents. We left that grand farce of a wedding behind without a single backward glance. The moment we stepped inside our house, my mother collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. My father sat in his armchair, lighting one cigarette after another, filling the living room with a thick, gray haze. I knew he was trying to use the nicotine to suppress the chest pain and his surging blood pressure. I didn’t cry. The tears had dried up the moment I walked out of that hotel. I went to my bedroom, pulled out my phone, and methodically blocked Thomas on every single platform. Contacts, social media, messaging apps, everything. In ten minutes, I erased seven years of history. Once that was done, I called my assistant. “Book me the earliest flight out of the country, anywhere will do. Also, list my penthouse at Starlight Heights for sale immediately. Price it to sell fast.” The penthouse was the wedding gift Thomas had bought me, situated right across from his corporate headquarters. He had told me he wanted to look out his office window and see my light on every night. Now, the memory tasted like ash. My assistant gasped on the other end of the line. “Boss, did you and Mr. Montgomery…” “We broke up.” I hung up, and a profound, quiet stillness settled over the room. That night, my father’s blood pressure spiked to a dangerous high, and we had to rush him to the hospital. Standing by his bedside, watching his fragile, sleeping form, the very last trace of affection I had for Thomas vanished. Thomas didn’t call. He probably assumed I was just throwing a tantrum, throwing a fit until I eventually crawled back to him like I always did. After all, that had been our dynamic for seven years. The next morning, a text from an unknown number lit up my screen. Ann, enough is enough. Come home. Stop making us the laughingstock of the city. Even now, his priority wasn’t me or my family. It was his precious reputation. I blocked the number immediately. On the third day, his mother, Mrs. Montgomery, called. Her tone carried its usual condescending warmth. “Ann, darling, I know you’re hurt. But you know Thomas. He’s a workaholic, he treats everyone with the same professional intensity. I’ve met Tavi, she’s a sweet, simple girl, not the conniving type you’re making her out to be. Don’t lower yourself to her level. Thomas was wrong about the wedding, and I’ve already given him a piece of my mind. Come back home, and let’s sit down as a family to discuss this.” Family? I let out a cold laugh. “Mrs. Montgomery, you seem to be mistaken. The moment I walked out of that hotel, we ceased to be family. Do not call me again. My father is in the hospital, and I have absolutely no patience left for your family.” I cut the call. Finally, the world was quiet. I spent the next week at the hospital until my father’s condition stabilized. During those seven days, Thomas made no attempt to reach out. I figured he was furious, angry that I had dared to bruise his ego. Good. A clean break was the best outcome I could hope for. On the day of my father’s discharge, the real estate agent called. “Ms. Ann, we have an offer on the penthouse. The buyer is willing to pay above asking price, but they have one condition. They want to meet you in person to finalize the paperwork.” Though surprised, I agreed to the meeting. We scheduled it for the following afternoon at the penthouse. I arrived early. Walking through the front door, the apartment was exactly as I had left it. Our framed engagement photo still sat prominently on the console table in the entryway, both of us smiling radiantly. I walked over, picked up the frame, and dropped it directly into the trash can. At three o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Thomas standing on the threshold. He had lost weight, a dark shadow of stubble covered his jaw, and his expensive designer suit was noticeably wrinkled. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled. When his eyes met mine, they softened with a complicated mix of emotions. “Ann,” he rasped. I leaned against the doorframe, my expression completely blank. “You’re the buyer?” He nodded, taking a step forward to enter. I extended my arm, blocking his path. “Mr. Montgomery, we aren’t on those terms. You can inspect the property, but please respect my boundaries.” Thomas froze, staring at me. “Ann, do you really have to be like this? Seven years of love, thrown away over one minor mishap?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “A minor mishap? In your world, what qualifies as a major issue, Thomas? Do my parents have to die of a heart attack, or do I have to jump off this balcony before you think it’s serious?” The words hit him like a physical blow. His face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that! Ann, I know I messed up. Just forgive me this once, please?” He reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped back, letting his fingers grasp empty air. “It’s too late, Thomas. The moment you chose to protect Tavi over my family, it was over.” I turned back into the apartment and pulled a folder from the coffee table. “Here is the deed and the sale contract. I’ve already signed my portion. The price is standard market value, transfer the funds to this account. I’ll have all my belongings cleared out within three days.” I pressed the folder against his chest. “Sign it if there are no objections. Don’t waste my time.” Thomas didn’t take the folder. He just stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Ann, how can you be this heartless? You threw away the wedding dress. Now you’re selling the penthouse. You want to erase every single trace of us, don’t you?” I met his gaze, my voice steady. “Yes.” That single word seemed to shatter his composure entirely. His shoulders trembled, and his eyes welled with tears. “Why? Just because of Tavi? There is nothing going on between us! I’ll fire her. I’ll send her away and never see her again! Ann, just give me one more chance!” The arrogance was gone, replaced by a desperate, rambling plea. But I was done listening. “You’re missing the point, Thomas. The issue was never Tavi. It was you. In your heart, your career, your pride, and your needy staff will always come before me. I’m tired of betting my life on the hope that you might one day look back and see me.” Without another word, I walked into the bedroom and began packing. Thomas didn’t follow. He stood in the living room like a statue. I packed my clothes, my books, my makeup, stripping the apartment of any sign that I had ever existed there. Finally, I rolled my two heavy suitcases toward the door. He hadn’t moved an inch. As my hand touched the brass doorknob, his gravelly voice echoed from behind me. “Ann. Do you really think you’ll survive out there without me? Everything you have right now, who do you think gave it to you?” I paused, turning my head slightly. “Thomas, you’re about to find out exactly how well I can live without you.” I didn’t go back to my parents’ place. Instead, I rented a small, modern loft close to my office. I needed my own sanctuary to heal and rebuild. The public relations firm I ran had gained a decent reputation over the years. It was true that Thomas’s corporate backing had helped me during the startup phase. But I was no longer the fragile girl who needed to lean on him to survive. I had built a solid portfolio of clients who trusted my strategic mind, not my relationship status. The first thing I did upon returning to the office was call an all-hands meeting. “Starting today, we are restructuring our client portfolio. All active accounts and pending campaigns with Montgomery Enterprises and its subsidiaries are suspended immediately.” The room erupted into murmurs of shock. My managing partner and closest friend, Natalie, was the first to speak up. “Ann, are you insane? The Montgomery accounts make up nearly half of our annual revenue! You can’t just cut them off. We’ll starve!” I looked at her, my expression calm. “Natalie, I understand your concern. But there are some checks that aren’t worth cashing. As for the revenue gap, I’ll find a way to plug it.” She wanted to argue, but I raised a hand, silencing the room. I knew it was a massive gamble. But I also knew that as long as I kept even a single thread tied to Thomas, I would never truly be free. I had to sever it completely. Predictably, the news traveled fast. Within hours, Thomas called Natalie’s phone. She put it on speaker, looking at me nervously. “Where is Ann? Put her on the phone!” Thomas’s voice was laced with suppressed fury. Natalie swallowed hard. “Mr. Montgomery, Ann is currently in a meeting.” “A meeting? What meeting could possibly be more important than this? You tell her that if she keeps up this childish tantrum, I’m going to pull all my investments. Her pathetic little agency won’t last a single week without my backing!” I reached over and took the phone from Natalie’s hand. “Mr. Montgomery, is there a problem?” There was a sudden, sharp silence on the line. “Ann,” he said, his voice dropping. “You finally decided to talk. What is this stunt? Are you trying to force my hand?” I let out a soft laugh. “You think too highly of yourself, Thomas. I’m simply clearing out the trash. I’ve never liked using secondhand items.” I ended the call before he could respond. Natalie stared at me, her mouth slightly open. “Ann, that was incredibly harsh.” I shrugged. “When dealing with a rabid dog, you have to be fiercer than they are.” The next two weeks were brutal. Losing our anchor client put the agency’s cash flow in jeopardy. Several prospective clients, having caught wind of our fallout with the Montgomery empire, backed out of negotiations at the last minute. The staff was anxious, and rumors of impending layoffs began to circulate. Natalie was practically pulling her hair out. “Ann, we’re sinking. Maybe you should just throw him a bone? Just a quick apology to smooth things over?” I kept my eyes on my laptop screen, editing a fresh pitch deck. “Natalie, take a look at this.” I spun the screen toward her. It was a deck for an emerging technology startup called Apex Tech. They had developed a groundbreaking consumer software, but they lacked the marketing clout to launch it successfully. Natalie frowned as she scanned the slides. “Apex Tech? I’ve heard of them. They’re basically working out of a garage. No capital, no corporate backing. Even if we pull off a miracle for them, we’ll barely cover our overhead.” I closed my laptop. “Sometimes, you have to look at the long game. I trust my gut on this one.” I personally led our team to meet with the founder of Apex Tech, Liam. He was a young, sharp engineer with clear-cut features and a quiet, intense focus. But the moment he started talking about his product, his eyes lit up with an infectious, brilliant passion. I respected that drive. We clicked instantly, mapping out a bold launch strategy over a single cup of coffee. To prove our commitment, I offered him an unprecedented deal. “We won’t charge you any upfront retainer fees. Instead, we’ll take a percentage of the sales revenue once the product launches.” Liam looked stunned. “Ann, are you running a charity?” I smiled. “I told you, I believe in this product. And I believe in you.” To celebrate the signed contract, Liam insisted on taking me to dinner at a quiet, cozy bistro downtown. Halfway through our main course, my phone vibrated with an unfamiliar number. I slid the bar to answer, and Mrs. Montgomery’s trembling voice came through the speaker. “Ann, you need to come to Saint Jude’s Hospital right now,” she gasped, her voice cracked with panic. “Thomas was in a terrible car accident.”

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  • My Brother’s Affection

    I have a terrible temper. My brother is the only person in the world who can tolerate it. Everyone around us laughs at him, calling him an obsessively doting fool with a massive sister complex. But he always shrugs it off with absolute pride. “She’s my little sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her a bit?” But one day, my brother changed. He suddenly drew a sharp line between us, avoiding me at every turn. When I blocked his car in the middle of the street, he wouldn’t even roll down the window to look at me. His voice came through the glass, flat and distant. “David, it’s time you learned to grow up.” I thought my brother didn’t want me anymore. Until I caught him drunk, locked inside his room, sobbing in the dark. “System, how much longer until the real son comes back?” “Can I really not be good to my David anymore?” A mechanical voice replied, dripping with exasperated frustration. “Get it through your head. They are the actual blood siblings. You’re just an imposter. Can you please wake up?” Listening from outside the door, the corners of my mouth slowly curled into a smile. So, my brother and I aren’t related at all. 1 I knew from a very young age that I wasn’t normal. When I was five years old, some relatives were teasing me at a family dinner. They pointed to the dish of stewed meat on the table and claimed it was the pet rabbit I had been raising. They laughed, their faces twisted with cruel amusement. “Well? You raised it yourself. Doesn’t it taste delicious?” I remained silent for a moment. Then, I picked up the boiling kettle from the side table and poured the scalding water directly over the hand of my uncle, the one laughing the loudest. The skin on his hand turned instantly white. Cooked. As the scent of scalded flesh rose alongside his pig-like shrieks of agony, I blinked innocently. “That’s your right hand, the one that grew up with you. Why don’t you taste it and tell me if it’s delicious?” The dining room erupted into utter chaos. Amidst the frantic shouting of relatives branding me a monster, my father, blind with rage, grabbed a heavy wooden cane to strike me. But the blow never landed on me. My brother had thrown himself over my body, taking the hit. His face was pale, his eyelashes trembling with pain. Yet, he carefully pulled a small, snowy-white ball from his coat. “David,” he whispered, his voice incredibly soft and soothing. “Don’t worry. Your rabbit is alive. I found him in the storage room.” “As long as I’m here, nothing will happen to you or your rabbit.” “I promise.” My brother was nine years old that year. He silently took a brutal beating for me. In the middle of the night, my mother wept as she applied ointment to his bruised back. “Your father wasn’t even trying to hit you. Why did you have to interfere?” “David is a psychopath. Who throws boiling water on an elder over a simple joke?” My brother shook his head, his expression dead serious. “It wasn’t a joke. It would have broken her heart.” I stood outside his door, listening in the shadows. The dark, violent urge that had flared up inside me because of my mother’s harsh words was miraculously put to rest by the gentle sound of his voice. In the dozen years that followed, my temper grew more unpredictable and volatile. My parents looked at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. Only my brother, Ashton, behaved like a stubborn, single-minded machine, firmly believing that I was a fragile little sister who needed his constant protection. He tolerated every single one of my flaws. He even fought with our parents for my sake. “If you had given David a normal, loving environment to grow up in, she wouldn’t be like this! My sister has always been the sweetest girl!” His friends couldn’t stand it. “We’ve seen overprotective brothers, but you’re just living in denial, Ashton.” “Is there any chance your sister is actually the opposite of sweet?” “If you keep enabling her like this, something terrible is going to happen.” Ashton only countered with absolute confidence. “David is my sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her?” 2 During my senior year of high school, Ashton, who had skipped two grades, graduated from university and began taking over the family business. He was drowning in work, yet he made it a point to drive to my school every single afternoon to pick me up. One day, the school bully tried to corner me to confess his love. I ended up beating him until he fell in line, and he ended up carrying my backpack to the car like a loyal servant. As the car door clicked shut, the interior fell into a dim silence. Ashton adjusted his cuffs, asking in a gentle tone, “David, are you dating someone?” I shook my head, chewing on a strawberry he had just fed me. “Good. It’s better not to focus on that right now. Your senior year is the most critical time.” He spoke softly, almost to himself. “I don’t mean to interfere in your life, but this stage is very important. Besides, that boy who carried your bag earlier, he wasn’t very pleasant to look at. You should keep your distance from him.” Ashton’s personality had always been incredibly mild. This was the first time I had ever heard him use such a sharp, critical word to describe someone else. I bit into the tip of the strawberry, quietly studying him. His hair had grown a bit long, falling in soft, messy strands across his forehead. His eyes were wide and luminous, like still water. Because of his corporate meetings, he was dressed in a tailored suit, but he still looked as harmless and soft as a white cloud. I had always known my brother was beautiful. His skin was as fair as delicate porcelain, and the tips of his ears and knuckles carried a faint, rosy tint. When he tilted his head, his soft hair brushed against his neck, revealing the faint blue veins beneath his skin. He looked a lot like the pet rabbit I used to have. The rabbit had died when I was eight. I hadn’t shed a single tear while burying it, but Ashton had stood beside me, crying his eyes out. When I asked him why he was crying, he said, “David, I know you’re hurting. You just don’t know how to express it normally.” A strange, familiar warmth bubbled up in my chest. Staring at the delicate pulse in his neck, I asked with a touch of anxiety, “Ashton, will you be my brother forever?” He answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Of course.” But he lied to me. 3 Just before my twentieth birthday, I realized Ashton was actively avoiding me. My parents had washed their hands of me long ago, so it was Ashton who had moved me into my university dorm. On his very first day in the city, he bought an apartment right next to the campus. “This way, you don’t have to worry about getting used to dorm life or dealing with difficult roommates.” He thought of everything. In reality, I had already learned how to mask my behavior perfectly over the years, knowing exactly how to make people trust and like me. But I liked the feeling of being shielded by him, so I simply nodded and agreed. My mother was right about one thing. I was a monster. My entire existence was like a thousand invisible threads wrapped tightly around Ashton. As long as he stayed still, I would remain docile and quiet. But the moment he tried to break free, those threads would cut into his flesh, binding us together forever. My brother belonged to me, and me alone. That was a truth that had been rooted in my mind since childhood. Apart from the days when my schedule was packed with classes, I spent almost every night at the apartment. Ashton would usually buy groceries and come home before sunset to cook for me. But on this particular afternoon, I unlocked the door to find a cold, empty dark living room. I checked my phone. It wasn’t unusual for him to be delayed by urgent corporate meetings, but he always sent me a detailed text beforehand. Today, my notification bar was entirely blank. Our last chat was from three days ago, when I had sent a brief message: I’m out of pads. He had never replied. I dialed his secretary’s number. “Where is my brother?” The secretary stammered, offering vague excuses. I let out a soft laugh. “Should we discuss this in person instead?” The man was terrified of me. Hearing the tone of my voice, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second before cracking. “Mr. Hale isn’t avoiding you on purpose. He has an important charity gala tonight, and a major contract to finalize.” “The fact that you are the one explaining this to me proves he is avoiding me on purpose,” I said flatly. The secretary fell silent, not daring to speak. I hung up, grabbed my keys, and drove toward the venue. As I drove, the sun began to set, painting the horizon in a violent, fiery crimson. For some reason, my mind drifted back to a memory from several years ago. I was fourteen. My mother had taken advantage of Ashton’s study-abroad trip to lock me away in a strict behavioral modification school. By the time Ashton rushed back to rescue me, I had already set the main building on fire. “David!” He had held me so tightly his entire body was shaking worse than mine. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Actually, I hadn’t been scared at all. But wrapped in his warm, trembling embrace, a single tear had escaped my eye. I had blinked it away, mimicking the pathetic, fragile tone of a normal girl. “Ashton, you have to protect me.” “I will. I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again.” I had smiled, thoroughly satisfied. Through the dancing flames, I saw my mother cowering behind the police cars, staring at me as if I were a demon incarnate. “Ashton! She isn’t your sister, she’s a monster!” she had screamed hysterically. “She started the fire! She’s only fourteen and she’s already doing this! If we don’t lock her up for rehabilitation, she’ll destroy us all!” Ashton hadn’t even looked back at her. He lifted me into his arms, his voice colder than ice. “She doesn’t need discipline. She needs love.” I had pressed my face against his chest, inhaling his clean, comforting scent. It was different from anyone else’s. He was supposed to go back to his studies abroad, but after that day, he changed his plans entirely. He stayed in the country for college, took over the family firm early, and refused to leave my side for more than forty-eight hours. He even accompanied me on my high school graduation trip. So why was he suddenly attending business dinners without telling me? 4 I parked my car across from the grand entrance of the venue. After a few minutes, a familiar black luxury sedan pulled up to the valet. The window rolled down, revealing Ashton’s strikingly handsome, pale face. He gave a polite nod to the security guard, handing over his invitation. Over the years, he had learned how to project a cold, commanding authority in public. But the soft, yielding, and gentle sides of him were reserved for me alone. Seeing him eased the tension in my chest. I smiled, preparing to step out of my car. But then, the rear passenger window rolled down. A beautiful woman leaned slightly forward, her lips curved into an elegant smile. Her fingers, resting casually against the car door, were long and slender. And on her middle finger sat a simple white-gold band, identical to the one I wore. 5 My mind went completely blank, a loud ringing filling my ears. My fingers instinctively moved to trace the middle finger of my own hand, where an identical white-gold band rested. It was the gift I had made him pick out with me on my eighteenth birthday. I remembered his friend asking him in disbelief after we bought them, “Ashton, do you actually know what a ring on the middle finger represents? You guys are siblings!” Ashton had simply given him a puzzled look. “David wanted it. Why wouldn’t I listen to her?” His friend had been left entirely speechless. Now, looking across the street, I watched Ashton step out of the car. As he adjusted his cuffs, his bare fingers were fully visible. He had taken the ring off. The ring he had promised me he would never remove. I pushed my car door open and walked toward him. 6 “Ashton.” He froze at the sound of my voice. He didn’t turn around, keeping his back to me as he spoke in a muffled, strained voice. “David? Why are you here? Go home.” His broad shoulders under the tailored suit were incredibly rigid. Because he refused to face me, I had to crane my neck to catch the tight, strained line of his jaw. He was running from me. Before I could say anything else, the woman from the car walked over, her silk dress rustling. She brushed a stray curl past her shoulder, offering a warm smile. “So this is David? Your sister?” “Yes,” Ashton muttered. “Since she’s here, why don’t we bring her inside to grab a bite?” She offered her hand to me, the white-gold ring on her finger catching the streetlights, sending a sharp stab of irritation through my chest. Before my hand could move, Ashton suddenly spun around and slapped her hand down. “She can’t go in,” he said, his brow furrowing with a strange, nervous tension. He remained silent for several seconds before looking at me. “David, go back to the apartment. I’ll have Arthur order some takeout for you. I’m going to be very busy for the next few weeks, so I won’t be able to come home. Take care of yourself.” Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked briskly into the banquet hall. The woman lingered for a second, looking at me with an amused glint in her eyes. She pulled a pen from her clutch, scribbling a number on a card before handing it to me. “Don’t be sad. If you want to see your brother, call me anytime.” Sad? I climbed back into my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. In the rearview mirror, my lips were bitten raw, bleeding slightly. In the quiet, confined space, a flood of dark, chaotic emotions rushed through me. It wasn’t sadness. It was a violent, suffocating possessiveness. Anger. And a dark, thrilling excitement. Had Ashton finally realized what a monster I was? Was he trying to run away from me because of it? Did that mean… I finally had a reason to lock him away in my apartment, so he could never leave my side again? 7 When I got back to the apartment, it was pitch black. Ashton hadn’t been home in three days, and even his scent on the pillows had faded. I decided to head back to the university dorms. My roommates were surprised to see me. “David! You don’t have any classes for the next two days. Aren’t you spending the weekend with your brother?” I tilted my head, offering a rare, slight smile. “I missed you guys. Is that a crime?” Three pairs of eyes stared at me in absolute shock. “Just kidding.” I tossed my bag onto my desk and opened my laptop. My roommate, Harper, walked over to offer me some fruit, but her eyes froze when she caught sight of my screen. “David… what is that?” I turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?” “Did… did someone make you mad?” I rested my chin in my hand, thinking about it seriously. “Not exactly. My brother is just being difficult.” Harper’s voice dropped to a nervous whisper. “David, look, I don’t mean anything by this, but we live in a civilized society. If someone’s bothering you, you can talk to them. Or you can have your brother handle it, right? Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.” I stared into her eyes, completely serious. “What if the person who made me angry is my brother?” “Haha, no way. Your brother is the king of overprotective siblings. We’ve only met him a few times and we could tell he worships the ground you walk on.” She paused, swallowing hard as she looked back at the search results for industrial-grade locks on my screen. “Wait… you’re not planning on using those on him, are you?”

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  • Dead Elderly, Hidden Trap

    1 My next-door neighbor was going out of town for a week and asked me to check on her eighty-year-old mother every day. I was just about to agree when several lines of glowing text drifted across my vision. [Don’t agree under any circumstances! The old lady passed away days ago, but the neighbor is keeping it a secret.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can pin the entire thing on you.] [The old lady’s bank account is missing twenty thousand dollars. She will claim you stole that too.] [A fresh college graduate, framed for manslaughter and grand theft. Your dream job will be ruined because of this.] The neighbor pressed the keys into my palm. “I’m counting on you, Naomi.” I took a step back, my hands turning cold. “I’m so sorry, Brenda, but I have to go out of town for work too.” Brenda froze. “Why?” The warm smile on her face stiffened. I gripped the phone in my pocket, my fingertips icy. “It’s a last-minute assignment from my company. There’s nothing I can do.” “Wait, Naomi, listen to me.” Brenda took a step closer, her voice growing urgent. “My boss specifically arranged this business trip for me. I can’t get out of it. You have to help me.” “I’m sorry, Brenda. My trip is already set in stone. I really can’t help.” My mind was in complete chaos as I spoke. We had been neighbors for a year, and Brenda had always been incredibly kind to me. When I first moved in and didn’t even have my kitchen set up, she brought over a plate of hot, homemade dumplings. When it rained while I was at work, she gathered the laundry drying on my balcony, folding it neatly and leaving it by my door. When I had a terrible fever, I called her at two in the morning, and she drove me to the emergency room without a single complaint, staying with me until dawn. I couldn’t understand. Why would someone who had been so good to me want to ruin my life? The glowing text continued to drift before my eyes. [Stop overthinking it. She was only nice to you because you were useful to her.] [Think back. Every single time she did you a favor, didn’t she casually mention that you should go check on her mother?] A cold dread washed over me. It was true. Every time she brought me food, helped with a package, or brought in my laundry, she would always smile and add, “My mom is home alone. If you have some free time, go keep her company for a bit.” For an entire year, I had gone to her apartment every two or three days to wash dishes, sweep the floors, and chat with her mother. [See? You were just a free nanny. She used a few cheap meals to secure a whole year of free labor.] My back felt cold. Brenda was still pushing. “Naomi, it’s just one week. Five days, even. Can’t you push your trip back?” “I can’t, Brenda. I really can’t.” She stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled out her phone. A notification pinged on my screen. It was a transfer of one thousand dollars. “Take this,” Brenda said quickly. “Just help me look after her for a week, please?” [The calculations are brilliant. A thousand dollars to cover up a twenty-thousand-dollar theft.] [Do not accept the money! If you take it, you are officially in her trap. She will claim you took the money and didn’t do the job, or accuse you of stealing even more.] [Stand your ground. Do not give in.] I tapped my screen and declined the transfer. “I don’t want the money, Brenda. I really can’t do it. Why don’t you hire a professional caregiver? Or perhaps look into a temporary senior care facility?” “How could I trust a stranger?” her voice suddenly rose, sharp and defensive. “A caregiver wouldn’t look after my mother properly, and things would go missing from the apartment. You are the only one I trust, Naomi.” “But I genuinely do not have the time.” “You!” She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Naomi, let me ask you one last time. Are you really going to refuse to help me?” “I have no choice, Brenda.” Her expression darkened. “Fine. I see what kind of person you are now. I was always so good to you. I brought you food, saved your laundry, and drove you to the hospital in the middle of the night. Now, when I ask for one simple favor, you turn your back on me? I wasted my kindness on a leech.” 2 Her voice echoed down the hallway. The door to apartment 602 opened, and Mrs. Gable stuck her head out. “What’s going on? What’s all the noise about?” Brenda’s face immediately shifted, twisting into an expression of helpless grief. “Mrs. Gable, I’m begging Naomi to help watch my mother for just a week because I have to travel for work. She refuses to help, and she’s lying about having her own business trip.” Mrs. Gable frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “Naomi, Brenda has been incredibly good to you. We’ve all seen it. How can you be so ungrateful? She’s helped you so many times, and you can’t return one favor?” “Exactly,” Mr. Henderson from 603 said, stepping out of his apartment. “Young people need to understand gratitude. Brenda has looked after you plenty of times, hasn’t she?” I opened my mouth to defend myself. “No, I really have to—” “A business trip? Who are you kidding?” Brenda interrupted with a cold laugh. “You usually spend your weekends locked in your apartment, and now you suddenly have a business trip? Nobody believes that.” A suffocating frustration pressed against my chest. These people only saw the few bowls of soup she had brought me. None of them saw the dishes I had washed, the floors I had swept, or the hours I had spent keeping her mother company over the past year. I clenched my fists. “Brenda, find someone else. I cannot help you.” I turned to walk back into my apartment. “Don’t you dare walk away!” Brenda yelled behind me. “I’m going to call your company right now and ask if there’s actually a business trip.” She dialed a number on speakerphone, right in front of Mrs. Gable and Mr. Henderson. “Hello, is this the human resources department? I’m Naomi’s neighbor. I wanted to verify if she has an urgent business trip scheduled for this week?” I couldn’t hear the exact response from the receiver, but I saw the slow, triumphant curl of Brenda’s lips. She hung up the phone and turned to face me, looking like a hunter who had finally cornered her prey. “Your HR department says there is absolutely no business trip scheduled for you. You lied to me, Naomi.” The hallway fell into a tense silence. Mrs. Gable shook her head. “How can a young girl lie like that?” Mr. Henderson sighed. “If you don’t want to help, just say so. There’s no need to make up stories.” “I…” “You just don’t care!” Brenda stepped forward, grabbing my wrist so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “I treated you like family, and this is how you repay me?” I yanked my arm back. “Don’t touch me, Brenda.” “Touch you? I’d dirty my hands touching an ungrateful leech like you!” Several other doors along the corridor opened as more neighbors peered out to watch the spectacle. My face burned with humiliation. “Brenda, I told you, I cannot help you. Find someone else.” “Who am I supposed to find? My mother is eighty years old, and I have to leave for a week! What am I supposed to do?” “Hire a nanny, call your relatives, or use a care service.” “Easy for you to say!” I took a deep breath and chose to remain silent. I pulled out my keys, unlocked my door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me. Outside, Brenda began banging furiously on the wood. “Naomi! Open this door!” “Why are you hiding? Do you feel guilty?” “You ungrateful wretch! I did so much for you, and you treat me like this?” I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. My mind was racing, the glowing text echoing in my thoughts. [The old lady passed away days ago.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can frame you for the death.] [The security camera will show that only you entered the apartment.] [They will accuse you of stealing twenty thousand dollars.] I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Was the mother really dead? I didn’t know if it was from illness or something worse, but one thing was certain. When Brenda asked me to watch her mother, the old lady was already gone. I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a situation. I suspect the elderly resident in apartment 601 has passed away, and her family has not reported it.” 3 The dispatcher paused for a second. “What is the address, please?” “Maplewood Apartments, Building B, Apartment 602. The target apartment is next door, 601.” “Understood. We will dispatch officers to the scene. Please keep your line open.” After hanging up, I opened my phone. The neighborhood group chat was already in an uproar. Brenda had posted a long message. [@All Neighbors, please look at this. I asked my neighbor, Naomi, to help watch my elderly mother for a week while I travel for work. Not only did she refuse, but she also lied about a business trip. I’ve always been so good to her, bringing her food, helping her, and even driving her to the hospital in the middle of the night. This is how she repays me. What an ungrateful leech!] Attached were three images. The first was a clear photo of my ID card. The second was my phone number. The third was a photo of my front door, showing my exact apartment number. [This is her information. Everyone should know what kind of person she is.] My blood ran cold. Within minutes, dozens of messages flooded the chat. “This is terrible.” “While helping is optional, Brenda really did look after her.” “Young people these days have no sense of gratitude.” “Is it really okay to post her personal ID like that?” “She brought it on herself. Anyone would be furious.” Then, stranger requests started popping up on my personal account. The first message I accepted read, “Are you the ungrateful leech from the group chat?” Another unknown number called. The moment I answered, a voice screamed, “Why don’t you go jump off a bridge?” I hung up, took screenshots of every single message, and saved them. More glowing text flashed before me. [Stay strong. Once the police arrive, the truth will come out.] [Don’t be afraid. She is the one who should be terrified.] [You are doing everything right. Keep the records, call the police, and wait.] I set my phone down, then picked it up again, my palms slick with sweat. The banging on my door continued. “Naomi! Are you going to open this door or not?” “Fine, you don’t have to watch her.” Her voice had shifted from rage to a cold, calculated tone. “I have to leave, and my mother will be left unattended. This is your fault. Since you won’t help, you will pay for her professional care.” “Ten thousand dollars.” “Give me ten thousand dollars so I can hire a service, and we’ll call it even.” I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity. Ten thousand dollars? [She is desperate.] [Ignore her. Keep the door locked and wait for the police.] I gritted my teeth, remaining silent. “Naomi, did you hear me?” “Ten thousand dollars. Consider it repayment for the favors I did you this past year. The food, the laundry, the gas money for the hospital, it all adds up to more than that anyway.” “Why aren’t you speaking? Are you feeling guilty?” I walked quietly to the door and looked through the peephole. Brenda was standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. About five minutes later, two figures in police uniforms appeared in the corridor. I unlocked the door and stepped out. Brenda sneered when she saw me. “Oh, so you finally decided to show your face?” I ignored her completely and addressed the two officers. “Officers, I have reason to believe the elderly woman in apartment 601 has passed away.”

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  • They Called Me A Husband Killer, Yet I Rule Their Bloodline Fortune

    1 After burying three husbands, my gambling-addicted father finally found a way to cash in on my curse. He sold me for three million dollars. He forced me into a binding marriage pact with the nine-hundred-year-old patriarch of a pureblood vampire clan. Just as I expected, my curse struck again. On our wedding night, the ancient lord reached the end of his unnaturally long life and crumbled into a pile of black ash. But he left behind half of his bloodline empire. He also left behind his pureblood heir, Eli Blackwood. Eli looked no older than twenty-eight. He kicked open the heavy iron doors of the bridal suite, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me down to the crypt to keep vigil over the old man. The ancestral hall was suffocating. Ancient portraits lined the stone walls, and the room was packed with pale, cold-eyed vampires. My stomach twisted into knots. I was terrified they would blame my “Black Widow” curse for the patriarch’s death and drain me dry on the spot. I decided to strike first. I looked up at Eli and put on my most comforting face. “Grandson, your grandfather lived a long, full life. I am sure his soul has found eternal peace in the Sanguine Abyss.” Eli’s eyebrow twitched violently. His crimson eyes widened in sheer, absolute disbelief. “What did you just call me?” I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “According to the blood pact, I am technically your step-grandmother. So, you can just call me Grandma.” Almost instantly, a chorus of muffled snorts and choked laughter erupted from the crowd of vampires behind us. I had been dragged into the Blackwood Estate entirely against my will. “Serena, this is your destiny. Human women must rely on the strong.” My father spat those words at me before sneaking out the back gates. Not long after he left, the servants’ horrified screams echoed through the halls. The Old Lord was gone. He was technically my fourth husband. Honestly, my partners were dying faster and faster. This one did not even survive the wedding night. A butler had approached me shortly after, handing me a glowing parchment bound by blood magic. He forced me to sign it. Only after the ink dried did he casually mention that the Old Lord left me billions in assets, with one specific condition attached. I was required to personally care for his pureblood heir, Eli. I assumed the heir was a newly awakened child. Instead, I was staring at a fully mature, incredibly dangerous pureblood. My heart hammered against my ribs. Before I could even speak, Eli had kicked the door in, his eyes glowing with a lethal red light. “Serena. Come here.” Before I could react, he seized my wrist. The pureblood strength was terrifying. My bones felt like they were going to snap. “I have no idea what filthy tricks you used to bewitch my grandfather. But since you stepped foot into this estate, you are going to kneel at his altar.” I stumbled behind him the entire way down to the crypt. When we arrived, he threw me onto the freezing marble floor. He towered over me, his jaw clenched tight. “Kneel. Pay your respects.” I forced down my panic and glanced around. The room was full of lesser vampires from the branch families. The air was thick with a crushing, predatory energy. A black coffin sat in the center of the room. It only contained the clothes the Old Lord left behind. I stared at the portrait on the tombstone, sheer terror gripping my chest. I knew vampires were not like humans. If Eli decided I was responsible for this, I would not leave this crypt alive. Eli let out a cold, merciless scoff. “What? You don’t want to kneel? Then why did you sell yourself for such a high price to marry into this family?” I stared back at him. Survival instinct took over, and I forced a flattering smile. “Grandson, your grandfather was nine hundred years old. That is a glorious age to pass. I am sure he will live a long life in his next reincarnation.” Dead silence fell over the crypt. Eli’s face turned so dark it was terrifying. “What did you call me?” “Grandson. According to the pact, I am your grandmother…” Step-grandmother is still a grandmother, right? The moment the words left my mouth, someone in the dark corner failed to suppress a laugh. Eli shot a lethal glare toward the shadows. The vampire instantly dropped his head, trembling uncontrollably. “Get out. All of you.” No one dared to argue. The new Lord of the estate ruled with an iron fist. Once the heavy doors clicked shut, Eli crouched down. His cold fingers clamped around my jaw. The pureblood aura pressing down on me made it impossible to breathe. “Serena, you had better behave. Do not try any of your cheap little tricks in my castle.” I struggled to open my mouth to explain. I was so incredibly nervous that a drop of my saliva accidentally dripped onto the back of his hand. My eyes went wide. I tried to suck it back in, but it was too late. Deep, visceral disgust flashed through Eli’s eyes. He shoved me away so hard my head snapped to the side. “Serena! Do you have a death wish?!” I shook my head frantically. I did not want to die. If I wanted to die, I would have drowned myself in the river the first time my father sold me to an abusive mutant. “Stay here and keep vigil by yourself.” He turned on his heel and slammed the crypt door behind him. I picked myself up from the marble floor. Looking at the Old Lord’s portrait, I actually felt a little safer. I found a velvet prayer cushion, curled up in the darkest corner of the crypt, and forced my eyes shut to sleep. 2 The heavy wooden doors burst open at the crack of dawn. A cold-eyed maid woke me up. “Mrs. Blackwood, the young master demands your presence.” They gave me no time to react. Two emotionless servants grabbed me by the arms and practically dragged me up the stairs to the dining hall. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them I had my own two feet. Eli was elegantly enjoying his breakfast. He was sipping a crystal glass of warm, dark blood. Sitting next to him was a stunningly beautiful female vampire named Victoria. I had heard the whispers among the servants. Victoria was his childhood sweetheart. Their bloodlines were highly compatible. Everyone expected her to become his official blood-bound mate. “Serena. Get over here.” Eli’s voice gave nothing away. I was still wearing my elaborate human wedding dress from yesterday. Victoria glanced at me, a flash of pure venom in her crimson eyes. “How amusing. The Old Lord just turned to ash, yet here you are, parading around in a bright human wedding gown. Do you have absolutely no respect for the Blackwood family?” Of course I respected them. But did Eli give me a single second to change my clothes? I kept my head down, playing the part of the submissive, useless human. “Victoria, eat your food,” Eli interrupted her with a flat tone. She slammed her glass down on the table, muttering under her breath. “Despicable, scheming human.” She stood up and stormed out of the dining room. Eli and I were left staring at each other in awkward silence. He clearly had no intention of talking to me. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and walked away. The funeral happened quickly. I pinned a white rose to my chest and put on my best performance, constantly wiping away fake tears. The vampire aristocrats who attended the service looked at me like I was a freak of nature. The Old Lord’s will was genuinely incomprehensible to them. He had decreed that I, a fragile human, would co-own half of the Blackwood empire and its territories alongside Eli. Without my signature, Eli could not access the full ancestral power of his bloodline. He was trapped with me. He had no choice but to keep me in the estate. Eli walked up beside me and lowered his voice. “Stop acting. Come with me.” I followed him into a side parlor. My father was standing there. He rubbed his hands together, an oily, flattering smile on his face. “Lord Eli, can I take my daughter home now?” My spine stiffened. A cold wave of dread washed over me. Who was my father planning to sell me to next? Some underground monster? Another dying mutant? “The Old Lord made the terms clear. Three million dollars bought her permanently,” Eli said coldly. My father’s face turned green. “I raised this girl with my own two hands! It wasn’t easy for a human! Since the Old Lord is dead, your kind should release her!” Eli cast a freezing glance at me. “Do you want to leave with him?” I shook my head violently. If I went with my father, I would be thrown into a living hell. Life in the vampire castle was terrifying, but at least they fed me. My father’s face twisted in rage. He pointed a shaking finger at me and screamed. “You ungrateful little bitch! I fed you, I clothed you, and this is how you repay me?!” Eli gave a subtle nod to the vampire guards. A hand clamped brutally over my father’s mouth. He was dragged out of the parlor without a shred of resistance. I let out a long breath I did not realize I was holding. Eli let out a mocking scoff. “Serena, stay in line. Stop playing these pathetic little games with me.” I knew he harbored a massive prejudice against me. Anyone would think I was a calculating gold-digger who used seduction and black magic to manipulate an ancient vampire. After the funeral, I was confined to the west wing of the castle. Eli ordered everyone to stay away from me. The servants treated me like a ghost. They delivered my human meals on time, but they never made eye contact or spoke a single word to me. This isolation lasted until one weekend, when Victoria hosted a party for the elite vampire socialites in the castle gardens. I heard the noise and walked down from my room. Victoria took one look at the beautiful gown I was wearing, and the hatred in her eyes turned lethal. “Well, well. How does it feel to play the grand lady of the Blackwood estate? The Old Lord is dead. There is no one left to protect a filthy human like you.” The vampire heiresses surrounding her chimed in, their voices dripping with mockery. “I did a background check on her. She has been married three times. Every single husband died violently. She is cursed.” “Everyone knows Lord Eli only has eyes for our Victoria. As if he would ever touch a cheap, dirty human.” They pushed and shoved me into the center of their circle. I kept my head bowed. I knew I could not afford to offend these supernatural elites. I just swallowed the humiliation in silence. Suddenly, a glass of freezing red wine was thrown directly into my face. The dark liquid dripped from my hair and stained my skin. “A dirty bloodline like yours does not deserve to wear something this expensive.” I gripped the fabric of my skirt. I had seen this dress in a human fashion magazine. It was a custom haute couture piece worth fifty thousand dollars. My own father sold me for less than a fraction of that. “Look at her pathetic face! I bet if I slapped her, she wouldn’t even dare to breathe.” The vampire woman who spoke grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. Smack! Smack! Two blistering slaps landed on my cheeks. The pain was so sharp that tears instantly welled in my eyes. Victoria leaned elegantly against the garden sofa, swirling the wine in her glass, quietly enjoying my humiliation. 3 A butler bowed low at the garden entrance. “The young master has returned.” The words barely settled before Eli walked through the archway, wearing a long black trench coat. He glanced at me, his face an emotionless mask. Victoria’s triumphant smile froze. The female vampires who had just assaulted me stepped back, suddenly looking incredibly nervous. I kept my head down and said absolutely nothing. Silence and submission were the only things that provided me with a shred of safety in this icy prison. “Victoria, who gave you permission to bring these people here?” Eli’s voice was dangerously quiet. She stood up quickly, reaching out to hook her arm through his. “Eli, I was just so bored. Is it a crime to throw a little garden party?” Eli sidestepped, avoiding her touch entirely. He looked at me, but spoke to the maids. “Take Serena upstairs. Clean her up. She is coming with me to run an errand.” Victoria’s body went completely rigid. She forced a painfully awkward smile. I turned around obediently and went upstairs to bathe and change. Looking in the bathroom mirror, I stared at my swollen cheek and let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. By the time I walked back downstairs, the garden was completely empty. All the guests had fled. Eli was sitting on the leather sofa. He looked up at me. “Why didn’t you fight back?” I gave him a tired look. “Would it make a difference?” They dared to humiliate me not because I was human, but because they thought Eli wanted me broken. His silence was their permission. He went quiet for a moment. He looked away, his voice dropping slightly. “It will not happen again. I apologize on Victoria’s behalf. She is a bit spoiled.” I stared at the floor and stayed silent. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you holding a grudge?” “No,” I answered flatly. His lips pressed into a thin line. He stared at me for a long time but did not push the issue. He called the estate doctor to treat the swelling on my face, completely forgetting his previous order to take me out on his errands. Late that night, my phone buzzed. It was an unexpected call from Victoria. As soon as I answered, she started screaming insults into the receiver. “Serena! What kind of black magic are you using to make Eli protect you?! He grounded me! He forced my father to lock me inside my own house because of what happened today!” I frowned, thoroughly confused. “Protect me? I am his step-grandmother. We don’t even have a real relationship.” “Stop playing dumb with me! I am telling you right now, Eli belongs to me! We are bound by destiny and blood! A cheap human like you will never get your hands on him!” She slammed the phone down before I could say a word. She was completely insane. I was just trying to survive the week, yet she was guarding Eli like every female on the planet wanted him. “Psychopath,” I muttered under my breath. I put my phone on the nightstand and turned around to unbutton my collar. My breath caught in my throat. I locked eyes with Eli. He was leaning casually against the doorframe of my bedroom. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. I forced my racing heart to slow down. “My Lord, why are you in here?” “To sleep.” I took a deep breath. Was he going to steal my bedroom now, too? Whatever. The entire castle belonged to him. It was just a room. I quietly stepped toward the door, intending to leave. But Eli reached out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight. “Where are you going?” “To sleep in the guest room. Or the sofa.” His eyes shifted to the massive king-sized bed. “Is the bed not big enough for you?” I was speechless. I had no choice. I dragged a heavy quilt off the bed and curled up on the thick carpet on the floor. I was absolutely terrified of provoking him. I huddled into a tight ball, my mind racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to figure out a way to escape this castle. If I stayed here, these vampires were going to drive me completely insane. In the middle of the night, I was wide awake. Frustrated, I pulled a sewing needle from the nightstand drawer and started aggressively stabbing the corner of my pillow. I began whispering the most basic, superstitious human curses I knew. “Everyone who bullies me is a piece of trash. I hope my curse gets all of them…” I was powerless to fight back, so I relied on the oldest coping mechanism in the book. “My father is a bastard. Victoria is a bitch. Eli is a monster…” The moment his name left my lips, Eli sat straight up in bed. His voice cut through the dark like a knife. “Serena, what exactly are you whispering about?” I jolted, a cold sweat breaking over my skin. I shoved the needle deep into the carpet fibers, squeezed my eyes shut, and played dead. In the suffocating silence, I could feel the weight of his icy stare burning into my face for a very, very long time. Eventually, he laid back down. 4 When I woke up the next morning, the bed was cold. Eli was gone. He did not return to the castle for over two weeks. The next time I saw him was when the butler informed me that I was required to attend a massive, mixed-society gala for humans and vampires. I was going to be Eli’s official date. I felt a deep sense of dread and confusion, but in this castle, the word “no” did not exist for me. The moment we walked into the glittering ballroom, Victoria marched right up to us in a pair of stunning stilettos. “Eli, are you still angry with me?” His face remained completely indifferent. He looked at her and gave a low command. “Greet her.” Victoria bit her lip. She glared at me with absolute loathing, forcing two words through her gritted teeth. “Mrs. Blackwood.” The moment I heard that title, it felt like a bolt of lightning struck my brain. My mind went entirely blank. I whipped my head around to stare at Eli, all the blood draining from my face. He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly confused. “What’s wrong with you?” In that split second, every bizarre, creepy detail from the past few weeks clicked into place like a jigsaw puzzle. No wonder Victoria hated my guts. No wonder Eli insisted on sleeping in my bedroom. No wonder he always looked at me with such intense disgust. When my father used his dark magic to forge that marriage pact, the legal husband written on the parchment was not the dying Old Lord. It was the new pureblood leader. Eli. And on my wedding night, in front of the entire vampire hierarchy, I had boldly looked him in the eye and called him “grandson.” I was completely, utterly paralyzed.

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  • Salt Wind Tastes Sweeter Than His Fake Devotion

    1 My engagement party with Billy was supposed to take place on a luxury cruise. We had agreed that I would bring my Gran, the only family I had left in this world. On the day of boarding, I waited at the pier for a long time. When Billy finally showed up, he wasn’t alone. He brought his childhood friend, Lily, her parents, and about seven or eight of her extended relatives. They were all holding keycards to the penthouse VIP suites. Every single one of them, except my Gran. I looked at Billy. “Where is Gran’s room card?” He was busy adjusting Lily’s mother’s silk shawl and didn’t even look up. “The VIP suites are fully booked.” “I got Gran a standard cabin on the lower deck.” The lower deck. Right next to the engine room. No windows. Reeking of diesel fumes. My Gran had a severe heart condition and crippling claustrophobia. She couldn’t handle stale air or tight spaces. My voice trembled. “Then why do all of Lily’s relatives have VIP cards?” Billy frowned. “Lily’s parents are older. They need a good environment to rest.” “Besides, her relatives were added at the last minute. I couldn’t exactly stick her family in the steerage, could I?” I looked at the loud, laughing crowd swarming around Billy. Suddenly, I felt like this engagement didn’t need to happen anymore. Lily walked over right then, her eyes looking a little glossy. “Stella, please don’t be mad at Billy.” “I can ask my aunt to give up her suite for your grandmother.” She paused, lowering her voice into a pathetic whisper. “It’s just that it’s my aunt’s first time on a luxury cruise, and she’s been looking forward to it for months. Plus, she gets a little seasick.” Billy immediately patted the back of Lily’s hand. “This has nothing to do with you. I made the arrangements.” He turned back to me, impatience dripping from his words. “Lily’s relatives are already here at the dock.” “We can’t just treat guests poorly.” A woman from Lily’s family chuckled under her breath nearby. “An old country lady would probably feel more at home in the bottom cabins anyway.” “The penthouse has too many rules. She’d probably just stain the carpets and make a fool of herself.” Billy definitely heard that. Yet all he said was, “They don’t mean any harm.” “Today is our engagement. It’s a happy day. Stop being so sensitive.” I stared him dead in the eye. “My Gran has severe heart disease and claustrophobia.” “You want her to sleep in a windowless box next to a roaring engine?” Billy’s brows knit together. “Stop making it sound so dramatic.” “Gran is used to living simply upstate. She won’t mind a standard cabin.” “Besides, I already tipped the crew to deliver her meals on time. It’s very convenient.” He said it so casually. But the moment I pictured my Gran’s hunched, tired back, a woman who had swallowed so much bitterness in her life, it felt like a fist was crushing my chest. My phone rang. It was Gran. The background noise was deafening, a relentless mechanical roar of the ship’s engines. Her voice was overly cautious, terrified of being a burden. “Stella, sweetheart, I made it to my room.” “It’s a very nice room. No windows, sure, but the lights are very bright! Don’t you worry about me.” A huge lump formed in my throat. “Gran, get out of there right now.” “I’m coming down to upgrade your room.” Gran panicked. “No, no, don’t waste your money!” “Billy set this up beautifully.” “I’ve never been on a ship this fancy. I’d just embarrass you two up there with the rich folks.” I heard a muffled, heavy wheeze over the line. She quickly pulled the phone away from her face, trying to hide it. “Don’t tell the girl,” I heard her whisper to herself. “It’s her big day. Don’t ruin it.” My eyes immediately filled with tears. “Gran, is your chest tight?” She forced a breathless laugh. “Not at all! I promise, perfectly fine. Just walked a little too fast down the stairs.” But a second later, a loud, irritated voice yelled in English in the background. “Hey, lady! Move your junk out of the hallway! You’re blocking the path!” Gran immediately started apologizing, her voice shrinking. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m sorry. I’ll move it right now.” My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. I could picture it perfectly. My frail Gran, dragging her heavy, battered canvas bag, pressing herself against the wall of a dim, narrow corridor to let strangers pass. She had never left our small upstate town her entire life. Before this trip, she had been as excited as a little kid. Half a month ago, when I went back to pick her up, she was sitting under a dim lamp with her reading glasses on, sewing a dress. She had saved up for six months to buy a piece of beautiful velvet fabric, insisting she couldn’t look shabby at my engagement party. The stitches were incredibly tight and neat, but her fingertips were covered in pricks and dried blood. Still, she had smiled brightly at me. “Stella, do you think I’ll embarrass you in front of the wealthy folks if I wear this on the boat?” She had packed boxes of homemade peach preserves and her famous shortbread cookies into her luggage. “It’s my first time meeting Billy’s family. I can’t show up empty-handed.” “Billy treats you so well. We have to show them we have manners.” Back then, I laughed and told her she was taking it too seriously. I told her Billy had handled everything, and all she had to do was enjoy the luxury. Her eyes had lit up like stars. The next day, she bragged to anyone who would listen at the local market. “My granddaughter is getting engaged on a massive luxury cruise!” “My future grandson-in-law is putting me in a massive penthouse suite!” But now. She wasn’t in a suite. She didn’t even have a tiny porthole to look at the ocean. On the other end of the line, Gran was still trying to coax me. “Stella, please don’t be mad.” “Billy is a busy man. It’s hard enough organizing all these people.” “An old lady like me sleeping down here saves you kids some money. You’ll need it for your future together.” I closed my eyes, letting a tear slip free. “Gran, grab your bags and come up.” “I’m not getting engaged anymore.” Gran was terrified. “Don’t say foolish things!” “I am perfectly fine down here. Don’t be stubborn and make Billy angry.” I couldn’t listen anymore. I hung up, turned around, and marched toward the boarding gate. Billy grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “To get my grandmother.” His face darkened. “The ship is about to set sail. What about the banquet tonight if you leave?” I glared at him. “If my Gran isn’t there, there is no banquet.” Lily’s mother let out a delicate cough and massaged her temples. Billy immediately let go of my arm, turned around, and handed a glass of warm water to her. “Are the sea breezes giving you a headache, ma’am?” His movements were practiced, gentle, and incredibly attentive. I stood there, suddenly feeling like arguing was completely pointless. He knew perfectly well that older people had fragile health and shouldn’t catch a chill. He knew exactly how to pamper an elder. It was just that his kindness was never meant for my Gran. Billy looked back at me, thoroughly annoyed. “Stella, stop throwing a tantrum.” “I’ve already handled your grandmother. The crew will keep an eye on her.” I pulled my arm back, swatting him away. A deafening, windowless cabin vibrating with engine noise. A cramped hallway where she couldn’t even put down her luggage. And my Gran, constantly swallowing her pride to maintain his perfect image. That was how he “handled” it. Just as I turned toward the lower decks, my phone rang again. Gran again. This time, the sheer panic in her voice was impossible to hide. “Stella, honey… I think I just got kicked out.” My stomach dropped to the floor. “What do you mean you got kicked out?” The background was noisy, filled with the sharp complaints of a janitor. Gran lowered her voice, terrified of being overheard. “They said a pipe burst in the cabin. It needs maintenance.” “They told me to wait in the hallway for a bit.” “My bag got a little wet.” A loud ringing filled my ears. Billy said he handled it. His grand arrangement was sticking my Gran in an abandoned, leaking utility cabin. I gripped my phone tightly. “Gran, exactly where are you right now?” She rushed to explain. “Stella, don’t blame Billy for this.” “He had to book for so many people, and this boat is massive. A mix-up is normal.” A heavy fit of coughing interrupted her, followed by a wet, ragged intake of breath. “I’ll just sit on the stairs for a bit.” “It’s fine.” “Go entertain your guests.” She had been evicted from a flooded room. She was standing alone on a swaying, massive ship. And she was still finding excuses for Billy. My eyes burned hot with rage. I whipped around to face him. “You put my grandmother in a flooded, broken cabin?” Billy’s expression shifted slightly. “What?” I shoved my phone screen in his face. “She got kicked out into the hallway.” “Is this what you call ‘handled’?” He finally frowned. It seemed to dawn on him that this might actually be an inconvenience. “My assistant must have messed up the booking.” “Just calm down.” He pulled out his phone and made a call. “I’ll have my assistant bring her up.” “She can crash in the staff breakroom for tonight.” “We’ll find her a real room tomorrow when one frees up.” He spoke quickly, his tone softening a little. Like he was putting out a minor PR fire. But looking at him, the last remaining warmth in my heart turned to absolute ice. If I hadn’t pushed the issue. If my Gran hadn’t called. Would she have been left sitting on a cold, damp staircase, hugging her wet luggage until sunrise? Lily walked over then, her eyes completely red. “This is all my fault.” “If my family hadn’t joined at the last minute, Gran wouldn’t have lost her room.” She sniffled, lowering her head. “But it’s my parents’ first time on a cruise. I was just so scared they’d get sick if they didn’t sleep well.” Billy immediately stepped closer to her. “How is this your fault?” “Stop taking the blame for everything.” Watching him protect Lily, I felt a wave of absolute disgust. My Gran was placed in a flooded room and banished to a hallway. His first reaction was annoyance, followed by tossing her into a staff breakroom. But the moment Lily shed a single fake tear. He acted like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. Half an hour later, the assistant finally brought Gran to the main lobby. The moment she saw me, she frantically tried to hide a cloth bag behind her back. It was the bag holding the homemade shortbread she made for Billy’s parents. It must have been sitting on the flooded floor. The fabric was soaked through, dripping dirty water, and the cookies inside had turned into a mushy, sticky mess. Gran was clutching her chest. Her face was paper-white, and her lips had a terrifying blue tint. Yet, the very first thing she said when she saw Billy was an apology. “Billy, I’m so sorry for causing trouble.” “My old eyes couldn’t read the room number right. I went to the wrong place.” My nose stung sharply. “Gran.” Billy didn’t even look at her. He just checked his Rolex. “At least it didn’t delay the evening banquet.” Gran timidly pulled the soaked bag from behind her back, offering a nervous smile. “Billy, I made these shortbread cookies myself.” “And some peach preserves for your parents.” “First time meeting the family. I couldn’t come empty-handed.” Billy glanced down at it. He recoiled. A look of pure disgust washed over his face. “Gran, we have a Michelin-starred French chef on board.” “Please put that wet stuff away.” “Tonight is a high-end luxury event. Bringing things like that out just isn’t appropriate.” Gran’s hands froze in mid-air. The smile slowly drained from her weathered face, though she desperately tried to force it back up. “Oh. Right.” “I don’t know any better.” She hastily pulled the bag to her chest, hugging the ruined cookies tightly. “I’ll put it away. I won’t embarrass you.” It felt like someone had shoved a handful of glass down my throat. I couldn’t even speak. Across the lobby, Lily’s mother let out another delicate cough. Billy immediately rushed to her side. “Ma’am, please head up to the penthouse dining room and rest.” “Have you been standing too long?” He ordered his assistant to fetch hot soup, then personally guided her to a plush velvet sofa in the lobby. Gentle. Patient. Impeccable. A stark contrast to the absolute ice he just gave my grandmother. Lily’s aunt snickered loudly from the side. “Country folks really don’t know the world, treating literal garbage like treasure.” “Bringing that dirty junk here really ruins the vibe of a high-class event.” Gran heard every word. She clutched her soaked bag tighter, burying her chin into her chest. “We don’t know the world. We just made a mess for everyone.” Billy acted like he didn’t even hear the utter humiliation in Gran’s voice. He just gestured toward the elevators. “Lily, you have a lot of family, take the guest elevator to the top floor.” “Gran, you can take the freight elevator over there to the second-floor staff quarters.” I glanced at the freight elevator. It was packed with Styrofoam boxes of raw seafood that had just been loaded. The stench of fish and stagnant water was suffocating. My voice was dead cold. “My Gran has a bad heart. She can’t breathe in places that smell like that, and you want her to take the freight elevator?” Billy rubbed his temples, deeply annoyed. “Stella, can you stop being so difficult?” “The guest elevator is crowded right now. The freight is faster.” “Once she’s settled in, it’ll be fine. Why do you have to pick a fight over every little thing?” I stared at him. In that exact moment, absolute clarity hit me. Billy didn’t just forget to respect my grandmother. He fundamentally believed my grandmother was not a person worthy of respect. Gran frantically grabbed my wrist. “Stella, stop it.” “I can take any elevator. The party is what matters.” The party is what matters. Even now, she was terrified of ruining my special night. But looking at her ghostly pale face, looking at how she desperately clung to a bag of ruined cookies, the last tiny ember of hope I had for this relationship finally died. I didn’t argue anymore. I simply held Gran’s arm, completely ignored Billy’s orders, and walked her straight onto the guest elevator. Gran apologized the entire ride up. “Stella, I’m really fine.” “Did I make things hard for Billy just now?” She looked down at the dripping bag, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I should just throw this in the trash.” “I don’t want his parents laughing at you.” Looking at how small and terrified she had become, my tears finally fell. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong. Yet she was acting like a criminal. I didn’t take her to the staff breakroom. I took her straight to the ship’s medical center. The doctor checked her blood pressure and heart rate. His expression turned grim. “Her cardiopulmonary function is extremely weak. She cannot handle stress, and she absolutely cannot be in poorly ventilated areas.” “She needs immediate bed rest. No more moving around.” Gran turned whiter than the sheets. And still, she tried to cover for Billy. “It’s just my useless body failing me.” “It’s not the kids’ fault.” I pressed my hands gently over hers. “Gran.” “You never have to explain yourself to anyone ever again.” “If you’re in pain, you’re in pain. If you’re mistreated, you’re mistreated.” “Nobody in this world has the right to force you to swallow it.” Gran looked up at me, her cloudy eyes slowly filling with tears. Once the doctor got her settled on a comfortable observation bed, I pulled out my phone. I texted the ship’s event coordinator. “The engagement party is canceled.” “Tear down all the decorations in the ballroom.” The coordinator called back almost instantly, sounding panicked. “Miss Stella, the banquet is tonight! The guests are already waiting. Are you absolutely sure?” I looked through the glass at my Gran, who had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. My voice was quiet, but unshakeable. “I’m sure.” At eight o’clock that night, Billy finally came looking for me. He threw the clinic door open. He looked furious. He had probably lost face in front of the crowd when I didn’t show up. He stood at the door, glaring at me. “Stella, what the hell is your problem?” “Everyone is waiting for you in the penthouse dining room, and you’re hiding down here?” He paused, his jaw clenching. “Lily has been crying for an hour.” “She thinks she made your grandmother sick. She feels so guilty she hasn’t eaten a single bite.” “Come upstairs right now, apologize to Lily, and we can put this whole mess behind us.” I froze for a second. Then, I actually laughed out loud. “Apologize to Lily?” Billy scowled. “Her family came all this way to celebrate and be happy.” “You’ve completely ruined the vibe with your cold attitude.” “You made a scene in front of dozens of people. Don’t you think you owe them a sorry?” So my Gran being shoved into a flooded closet and nearly having a heart attack wasn’t a tragedy. But Lily’s family not enjoying their free luxury dinner was a catastrophe. I looked at the man I was supposed to marry. Suddenly, I didn’t even have the energy to scream at him. “Okay.” Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward to grab my hand. “Then hurry up. My parents are getting impatient.” I sidestepped him. I sat on the edge of the empty hospital bed, looking down at my phone. I had just booked two first-class plane tickets back home for the moment this ship docked. My heart was terrifyingly calm. “You guys eat. I’m not going.” Billy’s face instantly went black. “Stella, enough is enough.” “Do you even know what day it is?” “Do you have any idea how much money and effort I spent putting this party together?” I looked at him, and my mind flashed back to a memory from years ago. I had acute gastroenteritis in the middle of the night. I called him, begging for help. He told me he had a very important client meeting the next morning and told me to catch a cab to the ER by myself. Back then, I defended him. I told myself he was a rising star in his career, and I couldn’t drag him down. But the truth was, he wasn’t incapable of dropping his work to take care of someone. He just didn’t want to do it for me. Because today, the moment Lily complained about a minor headache, he instantly canceled a video call with a multi-million-dollar client just to accompany her on the deck. I offered a small smile and stayed completely silent. Seeing that I was entirely unfazed, Billy let out a cold sneer. “Fine. Suit yourself.” “Rot down here if you want. Come up when you finally decide to stop acting like a child.” He turned on his heel and stormed out. The moment the heavy clinic door slammed shut, the very last thread tying my heart to him snapped forever.

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