I woke up one morning and saw numbers hovering above everyone’s heads. Above my mom, it was 9450. Above my dad, it was 8639. The numbers above our housekeeper and butler were far lower than my parents’: in the hundreds, even the tens. Dazed, I drove out into Crescent Bay to test the theory. Most strangers had single-digit numbers floating above them; seeing anything above 10 was rare. I drove home with my mind spinning, only to find my parents’ numbers had changed. Both were down by 1 since the morning. A jolt ran through me. Could these be the remaining times I would see them? The thought sent a chill down my spine. Today, I also saw my sworn enemy, Rhys Montgomery. But the number above his head— It was only 3. 1 To test my suspicion, I paid an unannounced visit to the Montgomery estate the next morning. The sight of me, a rare visitor, made Rhys’s parents beam. They warmly ushered me to the sitting room. I stared at the numbers above them, both close to 2000, and grew more confused. I had over two thousand chances to see his parents, but only three left with Rhys himself? Just then, Rhys sauntered down the main staircase, still tying his bespoke tie. Sure enough, the number above his head had dropped to 2. My heart skipped a beat. I held the teacup, momentarily speechless. “Savannah Finch, what brings you here?” He caught sight of me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as he walked over with a smirk that never quite reached his eyes. I put down the cup, abruptly stood up, and, completely out of character, looped my arm through his. “Rhys Montgomery, are you planning a long trip or, say, emigrating soon?” He lowered his lashes, focusing on my hand on his arm, a puzzled look on his face. “Recently? No.” I blinked, and amidst the knowing glances of the staff around us, I leaned in and whispered a suggestion: “Are you free today? Let me take you for a full medical checkup.” Rhys was my rival, my tormentor since childhood, but the genuine possibility of him having a sudden, terminal illness sent a wave of panic through me. His expression shifted slightly, then he laughed dismissively and lightly tapped my nose. “I just had a physical a few weeks ago, perfectly healthy. Want me to forward you the results?” On the sofa, his parents exchanged a look, as if they wanted to say something but couldn’t. I knew they were wondering why I was acting so intimate with Rhys today, only six months after I flat-out refused the proposed Montgomery-Finch merger/marriage. I couldn’t explain. I clung to him, my gaze darting up to the stark ‘2’ above his head. If it wasn’t an acute illness, could it be an accident? “Rhys Montgomery, I’m sticking with you today. Where you go, I go!” After making that bold declaration, I marched out, clutching his arm tightly, under the amazed eyes of everyone present. I was inseparable from him all morning. When he led the morning board meeting, I stood outside the clear glass wall of the conference room, my eyes fixed like a laser beam on the number above his head. At one point, his secretary brought me a chair and a coffee, clearly worried I’d tire myself out. When Rhys stepped out to use the restroom, I followed him down the hall, not letting him out of my sight. He finally looked at me, a helpless expression on his face. “We’ve reached the door. You can stop now.” I shamelessly tightened my grip on his suit sleeve, justifying myself. “This is your private washroom. I’ve known you since we were in matching toddler overalls; following you in is hardly out of line.” He managed a strained smile. “You’re taking a dare this seriously? Who did you lose to, Tatum Bell? Only she could come up with something so vindictive.” I instantly realized he thought I was just fulfilling a humiliating social debt. But this clinginess couldn’t last forever. If he needed to… do more than wash his hands, was I supposed to stare at him from inside the stall? … That image was too much. I’d just let him go and see if the number changed when he came out. I still had one visit to spare, anyway. In those few seconds, my mind raced. Until I heard Rhys’s resigned voice. “You want to come in? Fine. Come in. If you’re not embarrassed, why should I be?” He started to pull me inside. I stopped abruptly, pulled my hand away, and looked away. “On second thought, no.” Rhys let out a dry, short laugh. “Tapping out already.” But the moment his back disappeared behind the door, a fresh wave of panic hit. Ignoring everything, I pulled out my phone and dialed a video call. A few seconds later, the call connected. The screen showed the bathroom ceiling, and I could hear running water. “Rhys Montgomery, point the camera at your face!” 2 At my non-negotiable command, Rhys turned off the faucet, dried his hands with a tissue, and slowly raised the phone. “Savannah, my great aunt, you’re only going to torture me for one day, right?” In the camera, his brows were slightly furrowed, but there wasn’t a hint of real annoyance. When he finally emerged, the number above his head was still 2. I silently let out a breath of relief. It seemed the number didn’t decrease simply because we were in separate rooms. It only counted as a new meeting after a certain amount of time apart? I didn’t dare relax and continued to shadow Rhys, glancing at his head every thirty seconds. By the end of the day, my eyes felt like they were twitching. At quitting time, Rhys and I walked out of the Montgomery Industries building. A Bentley slid to a stop in front of us, and the window rolled down to reveal Tatum Bell’s grinning face. “Ha! Busted!” Today was my weekly gathering with Tatum, but I had bailed on her to keep an eye on Rhys. I couldn’t believe she tracked me down here. Rhys turned his head to me, a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone. “Didn’t you say you were having dinner with me tonight? Why is she here?” I froze, stunned by the number above Tatum’s head. Tatum was my fiercest friend, my shadow since we were toddlers, so why was her number only 15?! I immediately yanked open the car door, pulling Rhys in after me. “I’m in a good mood today. I’m treating you both to a hot spring spa and a huge dinner.” I sat in the middle of the back seat, flanked by them both, and gave the driver the address of a resort lodge outside the city. The driver, seeing Tatum look confused but not object, drove on. This was crazy. Even Tatum’s driver had over 500 more visits left with me! Was this girl hiding something crucial from me? In the car, Tatum nudged me with her elbow. “Hey, when did your relationship with the Montgomery Devil get so cozy? You used to avoid him like the plague.” Before I could answer, Rhys chimed in. “Thanks to you, Savannah is now incapable of leaving my side.” Tatum looked completely bewildered, pointing a finger at her own face. “Me?” I pulled her hand down and gave her a meaningful look. “Remember? We played Truth or Dare last time, and I lost to you? You dared me to stick to Rhys like glue.” My trusted accomplice quickly caught on and played along. “Oh, right, right! I totally forgot. My bad, I’ve been so busy lately.” Hearing that, I narrowed my eyes and pressed her. “Busy with what?” Tatum sighed, half-pensive, half-dreamy. “Ugh, my dad and my stepmom have decided to send me overseas for grad school. They say my ‘pretty little head’ needs to learn some real knowledge and independence.” 3 The moment I heard “overseas,” the alarm bells in my head went off. “Overseas? You’re telling me this now? When are you leaving? Which school? Are you coming back?” Tatum hadn’t expected my dramatic reaction and stammered her reply. “I—I only found out recently. My stepmom even contacted the school. I have to leave right after the New Year. But it’s only a one-year Master’s, and the school has a summer break. I’ll definitely be back; I don’t want to live on a revolving door of gray-tasting foreign food forever.” I quickly did the math. At our current meeting frequency, 15 was about the number of times we’d see each other before she left. From then on, I’d never see Tatum again? I felt my blood run cold. I was about to say something, but Rhys, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly spoke in a low voice. “Your stepmother sounds quite eager about this.” Tatum nodded. “She does, but Dad also said studying abroad is good for me.” Rhys opened his eyes slightly and smiled, seemingly casually bringing up a topic. “Didn’t your stepmom just have another little boy this year?” Everyone in our circle knew about the Bell family’s new addition. Tatum’s biological mother died young, and her father married a beautiful second wife who gave birth to a son within a year. This year, their fifth year of marriage, the Bells welcomed a second son, Leo. The puzzle pieces clicked into a terrifying picture. The Bell family was one of the wealthiest in Crescent Bay. My suspicion was clear. If the stepmother had any ill intentions… I shivered. Once we reached the resort, changed into our swimsuits, and were soaking in the hot spring, I spoke to Tatum in a serious tone. “Tatum, listen to me. Don’t go abroad this time. Find an excuse to refuse. If you want to study overseas, choose the country and school yourself after the New Year. Do not let your stepmother interfere.” Tatum blinked her wet eyes at me. “Why, Sav?” Seeing her clueless expression, I decided to go all-in. I told her everything—about seeing numbers above people’s heads and what they meant. Tatum’s face went white. She lunged forward, clutching me in a hug. “Savannah, promise me you’re not telling me a horror story!” “Where would I get that kind of imagination?” I patted her back helplessly. Tatum, ever the dramatic one, immediately grabbed her phone from the edge of the pool. She called her dad, alternating between pleading, feigning illness, and threatening him. Finally, her dad conceded, agreeing to discuss the study abroad plan after the New Year. The instant Tatum hung up, I clearly saw the number above her head shoot up from 15 to 2000+. My eyes widened. I stood up in the pool, overjoyed. The number could change! Rhys was saved! 4 I quickly wrapped myself in a robe and sprinted toward the men’s spa. Rhys had just finished and was toweling his wet, short hair as he walked. I stopped in front of him, bent over, catching my breath. I was about to look up to check his number, but my gaze somehow lingered on his bare chest for too long. He finally broke the silence, scoffing. “Running that fast? Did a ghost chase you?” Normally, I’d have a sharp retort ready. But when I saw the unmoving 2 above his head, I didn’t know whether to feel relief or disappointment, and I couldn’t speak. What exactly did I need to do to make the number shoot up? The thought stopped me cold. Was the idea of seeing Rhys only twice more that upsetting to me? Was I really trying this desperately to change it? The thought of him facing an accident made my heart sink. I quickly stepped closer to him. “Rhys Montgomery, we’re sleeping here tonight. Don’t go back. Tomorrow is Saturday; you don’t have to clock in at Montgomery Industries. What do you say?” Just as I was racking my brain for a way to convince him to share a room, he reached out and touched my head. “Sure. And not just tomorrow, Savannah. I won’t need to be the CEO of Montgomery Industries anymore.” I froze, sure I heard him wrong. I looked up and saw Rhys watching me with a complex expression. He was tall, handsome, with eyes that could charm the devil. He was brilliant and capable. Every time he smiled, I felt like he was a cunning fox about to cause trouble. He was also a master of telling terrifying ghost stories. That’s why, since high school, I’d done my best to avoid him. Yet, the Finches and the Montgomerys were business partners for decades. Rhys and I were constantly in each other’s orbits. When he said he was quitting, I instinctively grabbed his wrist, a thread of panic in my voice. “What do you mean? Bored of being CEO? Want to try the common life?” Rhys looked down, his gaze fixed on my hand gripping his wrist. He didn’t speak for a long moment. It was then that the 2 above his head suddenly jumped to 10! I blinked, confirming I hadn’t imagined it. Holding hands made the meeting count go up? What was the logic here? Instinctively, I reached for his other hand and grasped it tightly. Rhys’s eyes moved slightly, and the number above him jumped again—to 15. I threw caution to the wind. I let go and pulled him into a full-body hug. The rhythmic pounding in my chest vibrated against his. I closed my eyes, counted to five, and released him. I looked up. —30! Exponential growth! Before my smile fully formed, and before I could proceed to the next step, Rhys’s fingers gently pinched my chin. “Savannah Finch.” His voice held a hint of warning, and his eyes had grown darker. I held my breath, my smile freezing on my lips. “What exactly is on the top of my head that you keep staring at all day?”

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The day I saw my ex-wife again, she had just been parachuted in as the new CEO of our hospital. For five long years, she had repeatedly mistaken my love for weakness, fueled by the whispers of my closest friend. Because of that man, she became my ex-wife. I, the Associate Director of Medicine, managed to maintain a brittle professional truce with her until quitting time. In the early evening, Nurse Keller brought me a message. “Dr. Logan, the City Medical Association is hosting its annual gala tonight. All the hospital leadership will be there.” The nurses in the office were debating whether they should attend, and I was about to confirm my attendance when she suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Logan, you can’t go. You need to stay tonight and finalize the hospital restructuring plan.” Under the watchful eyes of the entire department, she summoned me into the CEO’s office. She sat behind the massive mahogany desk, her gaze glacial. “Everyone else is free to go. You, however, must remain.” “If I find you at that gala tonight, consider yourself warned. The consequences will be yours alone.” 1 A torrent of old memories flashed through my mind, and a slow burn of anger ignited in my chest. “Where was this fire, Genevieve, when we were actually married?” I dropped the barb and turned to leave. The nurses rushed up to me as I exited, their curiosity palpable. “Dr. Logan, you know the new CEO?” I shook my head curtly. “Dr. Genevieve Abbott is so young, Dr. Logan. I heard she graduated from a top-tier European medical school. And she’s still single!” At that, the gaggle of gossiping nurses began to buzz. Their noise grated on my last nerve. “Enough. She’s divorced.” Ignoring their stunned expressions, I picked up my briefcase, ready to clock out. “How do you know that, Dr. Logan? You seem pretty sure.” a young scrub nurse pressed. I had to suppress a cold laugh. Of course, I knew. I was the fool who had been misunderstood and replaced. Without answering, I strode toward the elevator. I had warned myself countless times that I would never again allow the past to hurt me. But seeing the ghost of my former life reappear as my superior still sent an unwelcome tremor through my heart. Genevieve and I had been married for five years. On our fifth anniversary, I had meticulously planned a romantic dinner, ready to celebrate. But instead, she celebrated on the hospital rooftop with Rhys Callahan, the man who was supposed to be my best friend. They had shared a grand, sweeping public confession. The grainy hospital security footage showed them embracing and kissing, and the whole hospital was celebrating them, calling them the Golden Pair—the untouchable medical power couple of Seattle’s medical community. The sweet well wishes, the romantic declaration, the joyful laughter—none of it was for me. All I could do was clear the dinner I’d prepared and hide in the on-call room. Genevieve had promised me that morning that we would celebrate properly. I suppose this was what she meant by ‘celebrating.’ Watching the footage of their embrace, an unfamiliar, suffocating bitterness clogged my throat. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d been intimate. I’d always told myself it was because she was consumed by her work. Now, it was clear: she was just consumed by someone else. If that was the case, I’d grant her the freedom she desired. I called her. Her voice was as cool and dismissive as ever. “What is it?” I tried to get straight to the point, opening my mouth to speak several times, but the words wouldn’t form. “Where are you?” “I’m in a meeting,” she replied without a hint of hesitation, even though I could clearly hear Rhys’s distinct laugh echoing in the background of her phone. I laughed a self-mocking laugh. Why debase myself when I already knew the answer? “Genevieve, let’s get a divorce.” A beat of silence followed, then a flicker of suppressed anger in her tone. “Logan, what is this new drama you’re starting?” “I’ll email the papers.” I hung up and started packing up my personal effects, preparing to transfer out of the hospital. I looked at the things I planned to simply toss: the matching coffee mugs, the photos from our shared residency shifts, the expensive stethoscope she had supposedly gifted me. I realized, with a sudden, stinging clarity, that all the evidence of our love had been purchased by me. She never once initiated anything to solidify our relationship. Even the wedding ring, I’d picked out myself. No matter how hard I tried, she never committed her full heart to me, and a marriage can’t survive on one person’s effort. Perhaps our relationship, like the framed wedding photo in the corner of my office, was long overdue for removal. I went to an apartment my parents had left me. That night, I slept more soundly than I had in years. The next morning, I was woken by a frantic ringing. Genevieve had called me several times. I answered the phone, and she immediately launched into an angry interrogation: “What are you doing? Your office is completely cleared out!” “We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary! I even bought you a gift—where the hell are you?” Her aggressive demands only amplified my irritation. I hung up and tossed the phone aside. I was used to this routine. When I was pulling a double shift in the ER, on my birthday, or any moment I desperately needed her, she would vanish, pulled away by a single call from Rhys Callahan. Then, the next day, she’d reappear as if nothing had happened, armed with a gift, and demand an explanation from me with an air of superiority, effectively forcing me to apologize for my needs. If I still resisted, she would soften her posture and offer the slightest hint of a consolation. Inevitably, I would lose my dignity, yet again, and fall back into my role as the devoted shadow orbiting her world. But this time, I was genuinely exhausted. Later that evening, as I was leaving work, I saw her waiting by the main entrance. She was wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuated her figure, making her glow even in the dim twilight. Passing male doctors couldn’t resist a second look, whispering amongst themselves. In the past, I would have rushed over, desperate to shield her from their gazes. She had an innate quality that drew all eyes, and I was always afraid someone would snatch her away. Now, I realized my fear wasn’t unfounded. I had just focused my efforts on guarding the wrong door. Looking at her now, however, I felt nothing. No surge of desire, no wave of possessiveness. Just a profound, flat emptiness. I walked straight past her, heading for home. “Logan.” She called out my name. “Dr. Spencer is hosting dinner tonight. You’re coming.” For reasons I couldn’t explain—perhaps sheer hunger—I agreed. On the way, I kept catching a faint, familiar scent around her. It was the specific, crisp, woody cologne Rhys always used. “Since when do you wear cologne?” I asked abruptly. She paused, slightly thrown. “I’m not wearing any.” I didn’t say anything else. If she was telling the truth, the situation was even more bitterly ironic. It seemed they were so inseparable, their scents had merged. The rest of the ride was silent. We arrived at the restaurant. Dr. Spencer’s face lit up when he saw Genevieve. “Genny! You finally made it.” Then he saw me, and his smile froze instantly. “What are you…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what he was thinking. Inside the private room, Spencer’s friends all turned to look at me. Their expressions varied, but the underlying sentiment was uniform: displeasure at my presence. Dr. Spencer and Rhys Callahan were old medical school buddies. Since the day Genevieve introduced me as her partner, he’d openly resented me. He thought I was unworthy of her, just a general surgeon holding back the city’s youngest, brightest cardiothoracic specialist. In the past, I had always tried to bridge the gap for Genevieve’s sake, greeting him with a forced smile and trying to win him over, but to no avail. I always believed I was the one falling short. Now I saw the truth: they had always decided Rhys was the only one truly suitable for Genevieve. I didn’t have to play that game anymore. I sat down in the furthest corner and pulled out my phone to review patient charts. “Dr. Logan, over here.” Dr. Spencer insisted, guiding me to the most isolated seat before quickly ushering Genevieve over to where Rhys Callahan was already seated. It was a deliberate gesture. Rhys, immaculate in a tailored dark blue suit, flashed a brilliant, confident smile when Genevieve approached. They immediately started discussing a complex recent case, their heads close together in an intimate exchange. Watching them laugh and talk, I was transported back to medical school, when I used to discuss cases with her. Back then, she would listen patiently to every one of my ideas, celebrating every correct clinical judgment I made. Now, the light in her eyes was reserved for Rhys alone. I stood up, ready to leave. “Logan, you haven’t finished your meal,” Genevieve called out. I gave a cold laugh. “Dr. Abbott, you and Dr. Callahan have plenty to discuss. I’ll excuse myself.” I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard Dr. Spencer’s voice, thick with passive-aggressive snark: “Dr. Logan is still so sensitive. No wonder Genny would…” I stopped, turning back to face him. “Dr. Spencer, my life is not your problem. You’d be better served focusing on your patient census, as a senior attending physician should.” With that, I took large strides out of the room. I knew the low whispers that followed. They were saying I was petty, unable to tolerate the happiness of my ex-wife and my former best friend. But they would never know what I witnessed on our five-year anniversary night. That night, on the hospital rooftop where I had set up a candlelight dinner, I saw Rhys take her hand and tell her, “You are the most brilliant, most dedicated doctor I’ve ever known.” And she, my wife, had allowed him to rest his head on her shoulder. In that instant, I finally understood why she always sought Rhys out first for complex cases. Why she was always distracted when I tried to share my professional successes with her. I was never the companion who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her in her mind. I was just a good, competent doctor. Rhys, however, was the genius who could create miracles with her on the operating table. I drove back to my new apartment and opened the fridge. It was empty. I’d been so busy coordinating the job transfer, I hadn’t had time to stock up. Just as I was about to order takeout, the doorbell rang. Through the peephole, I saw Genevieve standing outside, holding two shopping bags. I had no intention of opening the door, but then she produced a key. Damn it. I forgot to demand the spare back. She pushed the door open and walked straight to the kitchen. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. I bought you some groceries.” I watched her busy herself in my kitchen, a sense of the absurd washing over me. “Genevieve, do you really find this game interesting?” She stopped, turning to face me. “What game? You can’t function without eating, Logan.” “I don’t need you to manage my well-being,” I said coldly. “Give me the key.” She placed the key on the dining table but made no move to leave. “Logan, about tonight…” “Stop,” I cut her off. “We’re divorced. You don’t owe me any explanation.” Her eyes darkened. “Do you hate me that much?” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Hate? Genevieve, you’re not worth the effort of hating.” “You’re nothing but a liar. You’ve been deceiving me from the beginning.” She suddenly grabbed my wrist. “When have I ever lied to you?” “You and Rhys Callahan…” “He’s just a colleague.” “Is that so?” I sneered. “You two looked like more than colleagues on that rooftop.” She froze. “You… you saw that?” “And what if I did?” I yanked my hand free. “Genevieve, just go. I’m exhausted.” She stood rooted to the spot. “Logan, let me explain…” “I don’t need an explanation.” I cut her off again. “You two are a perfect match. I’m giving you my blessing.” “You…” “Dr. Abbott,” I switched to a cold, professional tone. “We have an early start tomorrow. Please go home and rest.” She stared at me, her expression unreadable, before finally turning and leaving. The moment the door shut, I slid down the wall and sank onto the floor. Tears, hot and uncontrollable, began to stream down my face. I hated myself for still being capable of this pain. The next morning, I went to the hospital for rounds as usual. As soon as I got to my office, I overheard that Genevieve was taking Rhys Callahan to a major international medical conference. I forced myself to focus on patient charts, but the discussions outside my glass-walled office were impossible to ignore. “I hear Dr. Abbott personally secured that slot for Dr. Callahan…” “Yeah, it’s a top-tier global summit…” “They really are meant to be. A genuine power couple…” I slammed the chart shut and headed for the ER. Busy hands, I knew from years of practice, were the only cure for a troubled mind. I was treating a trauma patient from a car accident when a nurse rushed in. “Dr. Logan, critical patient in the ICU. They need a consult, stat.” I hurried to the Intensive Care Unit. Genevieve and Rhys were already there. “I thought you were heading to the conference?” I asked instinctively. Genevieve looked up. “It was postponed.” Rhys offered a smug smile. “Genny said work takes priority.” Ignoring his unnecessary commentary, I moved to the bedside to assess the patient. “We need to operate immediately,” I declared. Genevieve nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” “Prep the room.” She suddenly looked at me. “You’ll scrub in to lead the case.” I was stunned. This was a highly complex cardiothoracic case, her specialty. Rhys immediately objected. “Genny, this surgery is…” “Dr. Logan’s surgical capabilities are well-known,” she cut him off. I gave a cold laugh. “No need. This is a cardiothoracic case; you two should handle it.” I started to walk away, but she stopped me. “You have to do this surgery.” I turned back, meeting the sincerity in her eyes. In that moment, I thought I understood. “Dr. Abbott, do you think this proves something?” “I’m simply choosing the most qualified physician,” she insisted. I scoffed. “The most qualified? Genevieve, do you seriously expect me to believe that?” “Didn’t you always believe my skills weren’t a match for yours? What is this supposed to be?” She frowned. “I never said that…” “Save it.” I interrupted her. “I won’t take the case.” I walked out. Behind me, I heard Rhys’s triumphant voice: “Genny, I’ll take the lead on this one.” I walked faster, determined to block out any further sound.

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My wife called to say she had to work late on our anniversary, forcing me to cancel the carefully planned dinner reservation. I was about to leave when I heard a commotion—a guest causing trouble in one of the executive suites. I rushed up to the room, and the woman huddled behind the man, wrapped only in a hotel bath towel, was my wife, Scarlett Linwood. Caught red-handed, Scarlett still tried to spin a lie. “Honey, don’t jump to conclusions. The power went out at the office, and Finn and I had to rush over here to finish the pitch deck.” Before I could say a word, Finn Donovan, the new intern she’d been mentoring, stepped in front of her. “Oh, you must be Scarlett’s useless husband, right?” “What standing does a kept man have to speak? Don’t you know the only reason the Linwood Group avoided total collapse this quarter is because I brought in the Ashby Group investment?” “Get lost! You ruin this for me, and tomorrow I’ll have you bouncing checks at the unemployment office!” I gave a cold laugh, utterly unmoved. In Grand Harbor, no one dares tell Liam Ashford where he’ll be working tomorrow. 1 When I got Scarlett’s text saying she was “working late,” I had already been waiting in the hotel lobby for three hours. I’d booked the reservation for our anniversary a month ago, but once again, she stood me up. I sighed. Her company, the Linwood Group, was in a major growth phase, and I kept telling myself this was just part of the sacrifice. I was about to walk out when I heard the night manager frantically calling into his walkie-talkie. “Hurry! Guests are causing a scene in 1808! I hear it involves someone from the Linwood Group!” The Linwood Group? My feet froze. That was Scarlett’s company. I followed the manager into the elevator. The door to 1808 was wide open. A man in nothing but boxer briefs was yelling obscenities at a room service attendant. “You call this the best hotel in Grand Harbor? I paid eight hundred bucks for the Anniversary King Suite and there isn’t a complimentary condom? I’ll have your job!” My eyes drifted past him. The entire world snapped into slow motion. My wife, Scarlett, who was supposed to be working late, was plastered against the man’s back, clutching a towel, her cheeks flushed with an unnatural heat. “H-Honey?!” Seeing me, Scarlett’s face drained of all color. She fumbled, desperately pulling the towel tighter around herself. My gaze moved slowly from Scarlett’s panic-stricken face to the crumpled sheets, then to the clothes scattered on the floor. It felt like a sledgehammer had slammed into my chest, making every breath a painful, shallow gasp. “Is this what you meant by ‘working late’?” My voice was disturbingly calm. Scarlett’s lips trembled, her eyes darting everywhere but mine. “Liam, listen to me… The power went out at the office, and Finn and I absolutely had to come here to work on the presentation.” I instantly understood the man’s identity. The new intern, Finn Donovan, the one she’d been mentioning constantly lately. I couldn’t help but scoff. “Does your company policy require you to wear a bath towel when you’re ‘working late’?” Scarlett was about to try another excuse, but Finn stepped forward and casually slung his arm over her shoulder. “Scarlett, this is your loser husband, right? A kept man checking up on you? Why are you even scared of him?” Finn shot me a cocky middle finger. He was reveling in it. “Cut the crap, you leech. It’s not the first time your wife and I have been together. A little late for a dramatic confrontation, isn’t it?” My fists clenched instantly, knuckles white. Scarlett’s face went pale. She tugged Finn’s arm. “Stop talking!” Finn shook her off, his arrogance only mounting. He walked right up to me. “What? You don’t like that? A deadbeat who lives off his wife is going to make a scene?” He reached out and patted my cheek, a gesture loaded with pure contempt. “Do you know who saved the Linwood Group this quarter? Me! I pulled in the Ashby investment! Without me, the Linwoods would be bankrupt right now!” “And you—” He leaned in close, his smile vicious. “—you’re nothing but a pathetic pawn who doesn’t even know when his wife is getting plowed.” The last thread of my restraint snapped. My fist slammed into Finn’s face! He staggered back and collapsed onto the floor, blood instantly gushing from his nose. “Finn, are you okay!” Scarlett shrieked and scrambled to cradle him. Finn clutched his nose, staring up at me in disbelief. “You—a kept man—you actually hit me!” “Hit you?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. I grabbed a handful of his hair and smashed my fist into his face again. “I’m just getting started!” I kicked him hard in the stomach. He curled into a ball, his bravado replaced by wretched sobs. “Call the cops! I’m calling the cops! You’re going to jail!” Scarlett suddenly threw herself at me, grabbing my arm, her voice hysterical. “Liam, you have to apologize to Finn! Get down on your knees and apologize! Do it now!” I froze, slowly turning to look at the woman I had shared a bed with for five years. Her eyes were wide with pleading, but none of it was for me. When I didn’t move, Scarlett actually kicked me in the knee, trying to force me down. “Do you have any idea who he is! If you let him call the police, your life is over!” I laughed again, a different, more genuine laugh this time. I took out my phone. “Go ahead. Call them. Right now.” Scarlett stared at me, dumbfounded. Finn glowered, his face swollen. “You’ll regret this, Liam! Tomorrow, you’ll be flipping burgers at the unemployment office!” I looked down at the whimpering little pest. A cold smile curved my lips. In all of Grand Harbor, no one tells me where I’m going to be working tomorrow. … We were barely through the police station door when Finn, clutching his swollen nose, started pounding the desk, his voice haughty. “Officer, this man assaulted me without provocation! I demand a full medical check, jail time, and compensation!” He slapped a business card onto the table. “I’m a partner of the Ashby Group! You know what to do!” The officer looked at me with a frown. “Do you have anything to say?” I calmly adjusted my cufflink and pointed toward the ceiling. “He initiated the physical contact and the verbal abuse. The surveillance footage will be clear on that.” Finn’s face paled. He grabbed the hotel manager, who had come along, and hissed a threat. “You know who I am, right? Wipe the footage. Or your hotel is out of business tomorrow!” The manager nervously glanced at me. I gave him a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. He instantly understood. He feigned panic and agreed. “Donovan, sir, don’t worry! I’ll take care of it right away!” Ten minutes later, the officer played the full video. The monitor clearly showed Finn Donovan giving me the finger, repeatedly patting and striking my face, and spewing insults. “Mr. Donovan, the evidence shows you initiated the confrontation.” Finn’s face turned an ugly shade of green. He leaped up, hysterical. “The footage is fake! Do you know who I am? I’ll have all of you fired!” The officer’s voice was sharp. “Sit down! The evidence is clear. One more outburst and you’ll be charged with making a false report.” As I left the station, Finn’s eyes burned into me. “You wait, Liam!” I turned to walk away, but Scarlett blocked my path. I thought she might finally offer an explanation for the night’s absurdity. Instead, she rushed to Finn’s side, tenderly examining his wounds, and then turned on me with cold blame. “Liam, why did you hit him so hard! He’s just a kid!” I was too stunned to be angry. I laughed bitterly. “A kid? The kind of kid you take to a hotel suite and wear a towel for?” Scarlett stammered, then regained her composure, her voice ringing with self-righteousness. “Finn did this for the company! The Ashby investment depends entirely on him! What did you do? Aside from hitting people? I’m taking him to the hospital. You go home and reflect!” I grabbed her arm. My voice was ice. “Scarlett Linwood, we’re getting a divorce.” She flinched, then ripped her arm away, her voice spiraling into hysterics. “Divorce? Liam, are you serious? You lied to me too! You said you had a million-dollar salary, and you’re nothing but a glorified hotel clerk! I did this for the company! Can’t you be supportive for once?” I said nothing. I just turned and walked away. Behind me, her voice was raw with fury. “Liam, you will regret this!” Walking home, five years of memory flashed like a sped-up reel. Five years ago, Scarlett was the girl who stayed up late to make me coffee and hangover cures. On our wedding day, she promised me forever, blushing all the while. Now, she was ready to sleep with anyone for a quick buck. I pushed open the door. The air in our apartment was thick with familiarity. On the coffee table lay the anniversary gift I’d carefully wrapped. I knew I would never give it to her. That night, I lay on our king-size bed, staring at the ceiling until dawn. Scarlett never came home. When the sun finally rose, my mother-in-law’s shrill voice sliced through the silence of the phone call. “Liam! Do you have any decency? It’s your father-in-law’s 50th birthday party, and everyone is waiting for you! Where the hell are you? Get over here now!” She hung up. I took out the pre-printed divorce papers. I also received a text from my night manager. “Mr. Ashford, we found a woman’s expensive watch in 1808. Should I return it to Ms. Linwood?” I looked at our wedding photo on the wall and smiled. “No need. Along with everything else in that room…” “Burn it.” The Linwood estate was ablaze with light. My father-in-law, Robert Linwood’s, 50th birthday celebration was in full swing. The moment I stepped into the foyer, I heard Scarlett’s overly sweet voice. “Everyone, let me introduce you to Finn Donovan, the savior of the Linwood Group!” Finn was in a sharp suit. Even with the bruising on his face, he still carried himself with a smug arrogance. “And today, I’ve brought a very important guest!” The entrance doors opened, and a portly man in an expensive suit walked in. “Victor Ashby! Director of Acquisitions for the Ashby Group, and my direct mentor!” The room erupted in gasps. “Oh my god! It’s really the Ashby Group!” “Mr. Donovan is incredibly connected! He even managed to get an Ashby executive here!” My father-in-law, Robert, was shaking with excitement. He rushed over. “Mr. Ashby, what an honor! You grace us with your presence!” Victor Ashby nodded dismissively, his eyes scanning the room. “Finn told me there was a spectacle today, so I thought I’d drop by.” Finn immediately pointed at me, his voice carrying over the crowd. “Everyone, this is Scarlett’s gold-digging husband! Last night, he assaulted me, and now he has the audacity to crash the birthday party!” The guests started whispering, their eyes filled with scorn for me. Scarlett’s face shifted. She quickly moved to my side and hissed under her breath. “Who told you to come? Leave! Now, before you ruin everything!” I looked at her panicked expression and felt a cruel amusement. “What? Afraid I’ll spoil your fun?” I sneered and slammed the divorce papers onto the nearest table. “Don’t worry. I’m only here to finalize the divorce.” Scarlett’s face went white. She gripped my sleeve, trembling. “Honey, you’re doing this for real? I can explain what happened last night…” I pulled my arm away. “No need to explain, Scarlett. Don’t make me pity you any more than I already do.” Seeing his chance, Finn fanned the flames. “Oh, the deadbeat wants a divorce? Fine. But with Mr. Ashby here, it won’t be that simple!” Victor Ashby’s bloated figure shifted. He looked me up and down and gave a malicious smile. “You’ll kneel down. Right here, in front of everyone. You’ll knock your head on the floor three times, strip naked, and crawl out of here.” The room exploded with laughter. “Hahaha, that’s a brilliant idea, Mr. Ashby! What a show!” “The kept man deserves it!” “Go on! Don’t waste our time!” I scanned the room, looking at their ugly, greedy faces. Even my own in-laws, whom I had tried to respect, watched me with sheer disgust. “Don’t just stand there! Get on your knees as Mr. Ashby asked! If pleasing the Ashby Group is what it takes to save our company, then it’s your good fortune to help!” my mother-in-law yelled. Seeing I wasn’t moving, Finn assumed I was terrified and became even more aggressive. “Useless trash! Doesn’t even have the balls for this!” He gestured to the bouncers nearby. “He won’t do it himself, so let’s help him out. We can’t let Mr. Ashby’s trip be a waste!” A few large men moved toward me, ready to tear my clothes off. Just then, Scarlett’s executive assistant burst through the door, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Mr. Linwood! Ms. Linwood! It’s a disaster!” The assistant was white-faced, clutching a stack of files. Her voice trembled. “The SEC just announced an investigation! They’re questioning our financials and freezing all our accounts! Every major partner is terminating their contracts immediately!” “What!” Scarlett shot up, her color draining entirely. “That’s impossible! Our books were fine—” She stopped midsentence, her gaze involuntarily flicking toward Finn. Finn seemed to realize something too. His face contorted, and he instantly jumped to clear himself. “It wasn’t me! The company accounts were always handled by Liam!” Every eye in the room swiveled to me. Scarlett froze, looking at me, wanting to speak, but finally saying nothing. My mother-in-law rushed forward, her sharp nails nearly scratching my face. “You snake! You’ve been working against us the whole time! We took you in all these years, and this is how you repay the Linwood family!” I watched them with cold derision. “You were afraid I’d ‘muscle in’ on your family business, so you never let me into the Linwood Group. Now that you’re in trouble, you remember me?” Scarlett grabbed my hand, tears welling up. “Honey, please. You have to find a way to save the Linwood Group.” I shook her hand off. “A way? Don’t you have your savior, Mr. Donovan, right here?” Finn’s face was shifting from green to white. Suddenly, he latched onto Victor Ashby’s arm like a drowning man. “Victor! Help the Linwoods! With the Ashby Group’s resources, this is nothing!” Victor Ashby frowned, sighing dramatically. “This is a tough one…” “Please, Mr. Ashby, we beg you! If you help, the Linwoods will do anything!” My high-minded father-in-law was pleading. Victor Ashby’s lecherous eyes raked over Scarlett. He lowered his voice. “I could help. If Ms. Linwood agrees to spend the next month as my exclusive companion, perhaps—” “We agree!” Robert Linwood didn’t hesitate for a second. My mother-in-law nodded vigorously. “Yes! Scarlett, for the company, you just have to endure this!” Scarlett looked like she’d been struck by lightning. She stared at her parents in disbelief, then turned her pleading eyes to Finn. To my surprise, Finn eagerly pushed her toward Victor. “Scarlett, it’s the only way! You’ve already slept with two men—what’s one more?” Victor Ashby grinned triumphantly and reached out for Scarlett. “Come on, Ms. Linwood. Let’s find a quiet room to discuss the details…” “CRASH!” I kicked over the nearby coffee table. The sound of shattering glass silenced everyone. “Victor Ashby, are you sure you want to touch my person?” I slowly rose to my full height, my eyes like sharp knives. Victor was visibly shaken by my intensity, stepping back half a pace, but quickly recovered and sneered. “What? The deadbeat trophy husband is playing the hero?” Just then, the front door of the villa was violently thrown open. A middle-aged man strode in, quickly scanning the room. The moment Victor saw him, his eyes widened with surprise and joy. “Brother! What are you doing here!” I raised my phone, interrupting Victor’s question. “Apologies, I’m the one who called him.”

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I woke up and realized I had been transmigrated into a ridiculously dramatic, high-stakes novel about a switch at birth. The original “fake heiress” I now inhabited was known for her wicked, petty schemes, constantly framing the true heroine only to be exposed time and again. My adoptive parents, the Prescotts, had grown deeply disappointed and confined her to her room for reflection. But the girl only escalated things, eventually being kicked out of the house and left to struggle in poverty. I, the new fake heiress, lay on my silk-sheeted, cloud-soft king-sized bed, tears streaming down my face. This is it. This is the ultimate, glorious win for the chronically lazy! When my confinement was over, my adoptive mother, Mrs. Prescott, sighed. “Do you understand your mistakes now? You’ve lost so much weight—” She trailed off, her eyes fixed on my distinctly plumper face. I immediately flung myself into her arms, speaking with profound, theatrical sincerity. “Mom, I’ve been awful. I formally request another month of reflection!” Mrs. Prescott just blinked. 1 She reached up and touched my forehead, her voice laced with worry. “Oh, darling, should we call Dr. Evans? Are you delirious?” I shook my head vigorously. “I’m not sick! I’m truly, deeply remorseful!” “This past week, I’ve had a profound realization. I’ve not only failed you and Dad, who raised me, but I’ve also deeply hurt your biological daughter, Stella. My behavior has been inexcusable!” As I watched Mrs. Prescott’s eyes well up, I spoke with righteous conviction. “Since I’ve committed such wrongs, I should face the appropriate penalty. A single week of confinement is far too lenient. I’m requesting a full month of further reflection. I promise, I will be a changed woman.” She stroked my cheek, tears now openly glistening in her eyes. “It’s enough that you realize your mistakes, sweetheart. You’ve suffered this past week.” Suffered? I nearly lost control of my expression. Since transmigrating, I’d been eating three gourmet meals a day, catered by a Michelin-level chef. I’d been sleeping on a custom, high-end mattress perfect for endless rolling. They’d left me my phone, worried I might be bored, allowing me to spend my days in a glorious, golden haze, tipping hot streamers and influencers like I had unlimited cash. If this is the kind of suffering required for a happy ending, I’d gladly take on the burden for the entire world! Just as I was about to negotiate a sentence extension, a soft, contemptuous snort sounded from the doorway. I looked up. A man in a sleek, black quarter-zip, hands shoved deep into his pockets, leaned against the frame. His jawline was sharp, his brow prominent—a perfect, chiseled face. But he radiated a wall of cold pressure. Meeting his eyes, which held a distinct, icy disdain, I nearly shivered. This was Reid Prescott, the original fake heiress’s cheap adoptive brother. “What’s the act, Sienna?” His voice was flat, bored. “You think the ‘playing hard to get’ reverse psychology routine still works?” He looked at me like I was a piece of trash. In the novel, the original Sienna and Reid were constantly at odds. When they were kids, she broke one of his expensive model cars and then successfully framed him, leading to Reid getting scolded by our father. These incidents happened frequently, and the two became bitter enemies. As an adult, Reid moved out entirely. When the real heiress, Stella, returned, Reid had been the one to walk in on and expose several of the original Sienna’s worst schemes. I sighed internally but offered a sincere apology externally. “Reid, I’m truly sorry. For all the times I bullied you as a child, and especially for purposely getting you in trouble with Mom and Dad.” Reid froze for a fraction of a second. Then his expression hardened, his cold eyes filling with pure loathing. “Don’t call me ‘Bro.’ I only have one sister.” A mocking smirk twisted his lips. “If you’re truly sorry, why don’t you just do us all a favor and walk out of this house? How about that for an apology?” I lowered my head and thought about it. I had plenty of cash in my accounts. It didn’t sound so bad, actually. Mrs. Prescott cut in, rubbing her temples, a flash of exhaustion in her eyes. “Reid, as her older brother, you need to give Sienna a chance to change.” Fearing they’d start fighting again, I quickly nodded and held up three fingers in a solemn vow. “If I ever cause trouble again, I will leave voluntarily! I won’t get in anyone’s way!” Reid frowned, scrutinizing my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. The icy assessment lasted so long I started to sweat. He finally spoke, his voice low and cold. “Remember that promise. If you hurt Stella again, I will personally drag you out and drop you on the street.” He turned and walked away. 2 At dinner, with the whole family present, I offered a second, formal apology to Stella and Reid, promising never to hurt anyone again. Stella’s beautiful, clear face remained wary, and she said nothing. Reid just scoffed, not even bothering to look up from his plate. I didn’t blame them for their disgust. The Prescotts had genuinely been wonderful parents to the original Sienna, spoiling her for the first twenty years of her life. Even after they learned the truth, their attitude didn’t change; they simply tried to treat both girls equally while compensating Stella. But the original Sienna, utterly spoiled, couldn’t tolerate the slightest loss of status. Even though she was the usurper, she acted out, using every underhanded trick to make the Prescotts misunderstand Stella. She was malicious, but dumb. Every attempt was quickly exposed. This current confinement followed an incident where she’d nearly pushed Stella down a flight of stairs during a fight, finally exhausting the Prescotts’ patience. Fortunately, we were still in the early stages of the novel, and the original Sienna hadn’t caused any irreparable harm yet. There was still a chance for redemption, or at least, stability. Mr. Prescott looked genuinely relieved. “It’s good that you finally understand, Sienna. Stella, what do you say?” Seeing Stella hesitate, I jumped in immediately. “I’ve done far too many terrible things. It’s absolutely fine if you can’t forgive me. The victim has every right to withhold forgiveness.” Everyone stared at me, momentarily taken aback. Stella looked at me, a complex emotion in her eyes. After a moment of silence, she spoke. “I forgive you, Sienna. I truly hope you mean it this time.” I nodded frantically, then looked at Reid, full of hopeful expectation. After all, he was the one who personally threw the original Sienna out of the house in the climax. Reid gave a short, derisive grunt and looked away. Stella spoke with a touch of exasperation. “I think he forgives you, too.” Reid snapped, “I didn’t say that.” But his tone was noticeably softer. The Prescotts were beaming. The constant feud between their children had been their biggest headache, and now, finally, there was peace. A relatively warm atmosphere settled over the dining room. I breathed a sigh of relief. No street sleeping for me. My life of glorious, luxurious inertia was officially commencing! 3 For the next month, my main activities were lying down and cultivating relationships. Don’t let my profound laziness fool you; I’m actually great at people management. A charming word here and there can lead to many hidden perks. The executive pastry chef now prioritizes my flavor preferences for the afternoon tea. The junior staff often gossip with me about the Prescotts’ social circle. And Hudson, the butler, reports my stellar behavior to my adoptive parents. They get happy. They deposit more money. The only occasional blight was Reid, who seemed to go out of his way to annoy me. Whenever he saw me chatting happily with someone, he’d give a cold, inexplicable sneer. “You certainly know how to buy affection.” To avoid him, I forced myself to leave the house, returning only late in the evening. A week later, I stealthily crept up to Stella’s door. Just as I placed a carefully wrapped box on the floor, Reid’s icy voice stabbed me from behind. “What are you trying to do to Stella now?” I gasped and whipped my head around, instantly wrenching my neck. “Ow! Seriously, ow!” After a rapid scramble of confusion, Hudson rushed me to a private clinic for x-rays. I was back by evening, fitted with a stiff cervical collar. I found Stella staring at the gift I’d left her—a custom-made ceramic mug, hand-painted with intricate quantum physics formulas. Stella was on the path to becoming a world-class physicist. Reid looked slightly uncomfortable. “Why did you leave a gift and then run away like a thief?” I spoke weakly, the collar restricting my movement. “Well, I… I was afraid Stella wouldn’t accept it, so that was the only way I could express my apology.” In my experience, avoiding conflict with the heroine is key. Becoming her friend is the jackpot. Stella finally offered me the first genuine smile I’d ever seen from her. It was subtle, but as refreshing as a cool spring breeze. “Thank you, Sienna. I love it.” Tilting my head up as much as the collar allowed, I smiled back. “I’m glad.” Yes! My stable, glorious life was even more secure now! 4 The Prescotts, upon hearing the story, thoroughly chewed Reid out. He stood there, head bowed, taking the lecture without a word. Fearing he’d retaliate later, I quickly tried to intercede. “It’s not Reid’s fault. I just moved too fast.” He shot me a glacial side-eye. “Shut up.” I immediately fell silent. The neck injury gave me a legitimate excuse to stay in my room 24/7. Esther, the housekeeper who had become my favorite person, brought me all my meals. With a huge mouthful of roast chicken, I mumbled my praise. “Esther, your food is the best. I could eat two bowls!” Esther’s eyes crinkled with delight. “It makes me so happy to see you eat, Miss Sienna.” “Esther, you’re so wonderful. Your grandkids must be the luckiest people alive!” “Oh, you sweet talker! Here, have a little more!” “If only you could feed me every day, Esther. I think my appetite would suffer without you, honestly.” “If Miss Sienna likes it, I’d feed you every day!” “Wow, really?” … Reid, who had been standing outside, black-faced, finally pushed the door open. He was carrying the afternoon tea the pastry chef had made for me. He sneered. “Are you an infant? You’re old enough to vote and you still need someone to spoon-feed you? Does Esther have nothing better to do than wait on you?” Esther quickly intervened. “It’s fine, Mr. Reid. Miss Sienna is still injured—” Reid cut her off. “I’ll do it.” Esther and I exchanged the exact same look of utter confusion. Huh? He cleared his throat and looked away. “Mom and Dad told me to look after you. Happy now?” Assuming this was a touching moment of sibling bonding, Esther beamed, stood up, and happily listed all my dietary restrictions to a grudging Reid. After she left, he grumbled that I was “high-maintenance” but resignedly picked up my cutlery. He scooped a rough spoonful of rice. “Eat.” I shrank my head back and shook it. “I’m full.” Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t dare let him feed me! He’d probably poison me! Reid tsked, shoved the spoonful directly into my mouth, and spoke in a hard, cold voice. “It tastes bad when I feed you, is that it?” Yes, but I couldn’t say it. After dutifully finishing the meal, he stood up to leave. I called out to him. “Wait, I want some of that chocolate pudding.” “…” “I’m a little parched. Can I have some juice?” “…” “Could you grab my phone, please?” “…” “And, um—” A vein throbbed on Reid’s temple. He looked like he was about to explode. “What else? Just spit it out!” I was genuinely afraid he might hit me, so I shrank back. “Actually, I need you to open that cabinet.” He complied. From inside, he pulled out a fully customized, vintage-spec Mustang model. The moment he saw it, his tense expression fractured. “I’m so sorry about that model car I broke when we were little. I made this one myself. I know it can’t really compensate for it, but…” After a long silence, Reid slowly turned to face me. His dark eyes, usually so cold they were unnerving, were now slightly watery. “So you’ve been sneaking out of the house… to build this?” I nodded honestly. “If you don’t want it—” “Hmph. What a waste of time.” Despite the dismissive words, he picked up the model and took it with him. I let out a long, deep breath. My life of glorious, subsidized inactivity was finally, truly locked in! 5 The good times didn’t last. The Prescotts finally got fed up with my vampire sleep schedule and ordered me to go on a hike with Reid and Stella. No amount of sweet talk or cheesy flattery could get me out of it. I slumped dramatically onto the floor like a deflated balloon, utterly devoid of life. Reid ruthlessly grabbed my hood and began dragging me toward the door. “I want to see if a buzzard will mistake you for roadkill.” Stella chuckled and gently swatted his hand away. “Cut it out, Bro. Don’t tease Sienna. She’s just not an outdoor person.” I looked at Stella with tearful gratitude. “You are my patron saint! My Goddess!” She smiled. “But you really do need some activity. Your last checkup showed a little bone density loss.” I groaned. No debate. No appeal. Halfway up the trail, I was drenched in sweat and ghostly pale. Stella and Reid were far ahead. I found a rock and collapsed onto it. Looking down through the dense, vibrant canopy, I gasped. Oh my god. Down in the valley was a vast, Gothic-revival manor, a sprawling, turreted castle straight out of a movie. I was completely mesmerized and didn’t realize I’d found the perfect, hidden viewing spot. A moment later, I heard Stella calling my name. I waved. “Over here!” She followed the narrow path I’d taken. I immediately noticed her face was bloodless, her lips pale as paper. Startled, I asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She rubbed her temple. “Dizzy. I probably didn’t eat enough; it’s low blood sugar.” I quickly stripped off my jacket to cushion the rock for her. “Sit here. I’ll get you some snacks.” Just as I unzipped my backpack, my wrist was seized with crushing force. Reid’s eyes, fixed on me, were colder and more hateful than when he first saw me. He looked barely contained by his own fury. “Sienna, you haven’t changed at all! I was a damn idiot to ever think you’d changed!” “What the hell did you do to Stella?” The pain in my wrist made me instinctively fight back. Stella panicked. “Reid, stop! I just have low blood sugar. I’m just resting! Let her go!” He flinched, his hand instantly dropping. The sudden release, combined with my forward momentum, made me stumble backward. My foot caught on a loose rock at the edge of the path, and I slipped, tumbling down the steep embankment. It happened in a second. No one could react. “Shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” I curled into a ball, tucking my head, and rolled. Luckily, a thick, low-hanging tree finally stopped my descent. I struggled to my feet and checked the damage. Without my jacket for protection, I had multiple scrapes, and my right arm felt sickeningly wrong—a dislocated shoulder. I could still see the majestic manor from here. I sighed, then started limping down the slope. I’ve paid my dues. The debt to the original fake heiress is officially settled. I’m done with the whole redemption arc! I am going back to being a happy mole person, and anyone who tries to stop me will be met with a scathing look! After finally making it to the paved road, I just lay down on the roadside. I don’t know how long I was there, but a sleek Bugatti Veyron eventually rolled to a smooth stop beside me. The door opened. I managed to pry my eyes open, catching sight of a man in a black suit, sculpted from marble, looking utterly perfect. I stared blankly. “Excuse me, am I dead? Is that why I’m seeing an angel?” The man in the car paused, then slowly cast his eyes toward me.

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The night Lila’s intern-turned-kept-boy accused me of flunking him on purpose, she sent our son to an illegal clinic. “Give Rhys his spot on the Westbrook Research Fellowship back, or they will cut Finn open. Alive.” I knelt, slamming my forehead against the floor, begging her to tell me where they had taken him. She finally conceded. But when I raced to the location, all I found was Finn’s small, disemboweled body. His small, freezing hand clutched mine. “Dad,” he whispered, his voice a thread, “it hurts so bad.” I dissolved, a wreck of sobs, my trembling fingers fumbling with my phone to call Lila, to plead for help. Her voice was devoid of warmth, a sheet of ice. “Dying? Perfect. I’m pregnant with Rhys’s baby. We can use Finn’s things directly.” I felt the life draining out of my son, his body cooling in my arms, but I couldn’t give up. “Please… we can still get him to the hospital, he might survive!” “Stop the performance! Owen, Rhys picked Finn up hours ago! Surviving? Honestly, don’t you ever tire of this pathetic theater?” 1 I held Finn close, his body going colder, heavier in my arms. Lila’s voice, poisoned ice, cut through the phone line again. “Owen Ellis, have you lost your mind? Finn was picked up ages ago. Why are you making up these sickening lies?” I looked down at the child in my arms. His chest had been crudely cut open. Blood had soaked my dress shirt, sticking the fabric to my skin. I opened my mouth, the sound that scraped out of my throat barely human. “Lila Ellis! He is your own flesh and blood! How could you abandon him to die!” “Abandon him?” She gave a cold, short laugh. “How dare you accuse me? If it hadn’t been for this child, I would never have married a poor academic like you!” “Haven’t I sacrificed enough for him over the years? Don’t you dare put on this ‘devoted father’ act now!” “Stop using these disgusting tactics to gain sympathy. Rhys was right; you only know how to weaponize the child against me.” Then, Rhys’s voice, soft and coaxing, drifted over the line. “Lila, please calm down. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t pushed so hard for the grade, Professor Ellis wouldn’t have…” He paused, his tone shifting into a perfect, wounded whisper. “…But even in an argument, Professor Ellis, you shouldn’t joke about Finn’s life.” I was shaking violently, my grip threatening to shatter the phone. “Rhys! It was you—” BEEP— The line went dead. I stood there, Finn in my arms, as the clinic’s enforcers slowly encircled me, their eyes indifferent. I fell to my knees, my forehead striking the filthy ground again and again. “Please… let me take him home…” Blood ran from my brow, mixing with my tears as it hit the dirt. One of the men frowned, muttered a curse about bad luck, and waved a dismissive hand. “Get lost.” I scrambled up, stumbling, clutching Finn, and ran. The night air was a biting knife. The street was empty, no cars slowing down, no one willing to stop. I ran desperately, Finn’s blood marking the pavement, a sickening, winding red line behind me. The hospital lights were stark and blinding. The doctor peeled back the coat I’d wrapped around Finn and sucked in a sharp breath. “What… who did this?” I tried to smile, but it looked worse than a scream. I didn’t know how to tell him that this had been the boy’s own mother. But Lila hadn’t always been this way. Finn’s first heart surgery. She hadn’t slept for three days, standing vigil outside the ICU. The day he first called her ‘Mom,’ she’d scooped him up, spinning him around, laughing like a child herself. Then Rhys. The trips, the high-profile dinners, the subtle change in her scent—and then, the insolence of bringing him home. I could only watch in silence as my wife slowly, irreversibly, became a stranger. The doctor examined him for a long, silent moment. He lowered his voice. “…The child is gone. You need to call the coroner.” I gripped Finn’s small hand, his fingers already turning blue. “Try again… please, I’m begging you…” The doctor shook his head, sighing. “The damage is too severe. Even half an hour earlier…” I knelt at the double doors of the Emergency Room, my forehead pressed against the cold tile. “Please, try something else. He’s only six.” The doctor removed his mask, his face etched with exhaustion. “Mr. Ellis, his liver and right kidney have been removed. Unless we can get him onto an ECMO machine right now to stabilize him, and find matching organs within the week…” “Then put him on ECMO!” I lunged towards the ICU, only to be stopped by two men in dark suits. One of them spoke, his face impassive. “Ms. Ellis’s orders. All ECMO equipment is prioritized for Mr. Rhys.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. The VIP room door opened. Rhys strolled out, looking impossibly rested, adjusting the silk belt of his robe, his face flushed like he’d just had a high-end spa treatment. He leaned against the doorframe, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Professor Ellis, looking rough.” “The machine…” The taste of blood filled my throat. “Give Finn the ECMO. I’ll vanish. Forever.” “Professor Ellis,” Rhys purred, casually turning my faculty ID card between his fingers. “Every time I see your face, I get anxiety.” He let the metal chain tighten around my neck, then leaned in close. “How about you resign?” I stared at the gleaming plaque on the hallway wall: The Distinguished Ellis Research Prize. I remembered the three thousand nights I’d spent in the lab, the new target I’d identified under the microscope, the first time Finn had proudly declared, “My dad is a scientist.” My nails dug into the flesh of my palm. The metallic taste of blood rose in my mouth. “Done.” The word crushed twenty years of my academic career, but I saw the serpentine glint of triumph in his eye. The ding of the resignation confirmation was the soundtrack to the kick that landed squarely in my ribs. I crashed to the floor. Rhys’s knee pressed into my throat, his phone screen shoved against my face. “Look. Your students are all wondering why you suddenly quit.” BANG! Rhys kicked me hard in the chest. I slammed against the wall. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head up, the camera lens practically touching my eye. “Come on, smile! Let the academic world see what a top-tier journal author looks like now!” “Doctor…” I managed to gasp, gripping his sleeve. The expensive fabric was stained with Finn’s blood. He suddenly burst into laughter. “Professor, you’re the smart one, right?” His finger tapped my cheek mockingly. “Lila is pregnant with my baby, so your son, of course, had to be—” He leaned down, whispering a revolting breath into my ear. “—dismantled and sold for parts.” A surge of blind rage gave me the strength to flip him onto the floor, and I slammed my fist into his face. The security guards’ fists rained down on my back, but I held onto Rhys’s throat until the familiar scent of Lila’s perfume and a sharp slap hit me. “Owen Ellis!” Her diamond ring scraped a raw line across my cheek. Rhys instantly crumpled into her embrace, sobbing. “He suddenly went crazy…” Through the ringing in my ears, I watched her rose-colored lips move. “Touch Rhys again, and I pull every single investment from your research projects.” Her hair brushed my wound as she turned. “Finn was at the International Academy this morning. Who are you putting on this disgusting show for?” She left, taking the guards and Rhys with her, leaving me dumped like refuse in the hallway. I crawled, staggering to the Emergency Room doors. My fingers brushed the handle just as I heard the nurse’s sigh. “Pediatric Cardiac, Room 307… Call it. Time of death.” The world turned black, and I passed out. The phone ringing was a dull knife sinking into my temple. The screen lit up in the oppressive darkness. My father’s voice was a blunt blade against my eardrum. “What did you do to upset Lila? The Ellis-Qin project just pulled funding from us!” I stared at the glowing stars Finn had pasted on the ceiling. “Finn is dead.” My voice sounded like it came from a great distance. A sudden, terrible silence fell on the line, broken only by static. “Poor boy… never had a chance,” my father sighed, but then his tone immediately hardened. “You need to get Lila pregnant again. Now. And you upset her young man, didn’t you? Go apologize! A man has to be flexible…” My hand, clutching Finn’s death certificate, began to shake. The paper made a frail, tearing sound. I couldn’t listen anymore. I threw the phone. The plastic shell exploded against the wall, the brittle sound startling a flock of pigeons outside the window. When the crematorium attendant wheeled the steel cot in, I desperately clung to Finn’s small, blue hand. This child who once held my finger and said, “Don’t be scared, Dad,” now felt like an empty shell. “Sir, we can’t delay.” The man spoke softly. Looking at my son’s tiny body, I finally made a decision. Trembling, I dialed the number I hadn’t called in three years. “I can give you Ellis-Qin’s core experimental data for the next quarter. You have to do something for me.” After arranging Finn’s body for its final journey, I dragged my exhausted self home. The moment I opened the front door, I heard the sickening sounds drifting down from the second-floor master suite. I stood in the entryway, staring at the family portrait Finn had drawn last year on the shoe cabinet. The three of us stood holding hands, and he’d used a gold crayon to make Lila’s dress shine brightly. I pushed all the living room furniture aside and draped the space with the whitest linen I could find. Finn’s favorite picture, the one of him in his dinosaur pajamas, was placed in the center, surrounded by his beloved strawberry cake and Lego sets. “Owen Ellis!” Lila rushed down the stairs in her silk robe, her face still flushed. “Are you insane? Setting up a wake in the living room?! Are you trying to curse me into a miscarriage?” She backed away, clutching her abdomen. Rhys sauntered down, covering his mouth in exaggerated horror when he saw the shrine. “Oh my God, this is just so morbid…” Lila’s furious shout was a sharp knife in my ear. “Owen, who is this pathetic performance for?” Her nails, painted a virulent red, were inches from my face. “Don’t think for a second that these disgusting tactics will—” A hot, metallic taste surged into my throat. I coughed violently, splattering dark red blood onto her silk robe. Rhys shrieked instantly. “Lila, look! He must have used a blood packet!” Lila froze for a second, then seized Finn’s photograph and hurled it at the marble floor. The sound of shattering glass filled the air. I lunged to save it, but she shoved me, sending me tumbling onto the shards. Sharp glass pierced my palm. I trembled as I wiped the blood from Finn’s smiling face. His image blurred in the crimson smear, just like the final moment he called for me, lying in the gore. Seeing the raw violence of my reaction, Lila involuntarily took two steps back. “Disgusting!” She kicked aside a white chrysanthemum, her face turning green, and spun away. I sat there all night, holding my son’s broken portrait in the cold, silent living room. Before dawn, the funeral home called. “Mr. Ellis, your son’s body… it’s gone.” “Gone? What do you mean, gone!” I shot up from the sofa. “He was there when you signed the papers last night… The security footage! Check the footage!” My phone vibrated. A message from Rhys: Want to see your son one last time? It was followed by a remote geo-tag. I bolted, not even grabbing a jacket. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. The scenery outside the window grew increasingly desolate until my tires crunched onto gravel and stopped in a barren, sandy clearing. Lila stood there in a couture trench coat, her heels sinking into the sand. She was holding a canister of gasoline and pouring it onto a black body bag lying on the ground. The fluid soaked sickeningly into the fabric. Rhys stood beside her, clapping and smiling. “Lila, stomp it a few times. Make sure it burns clean.” “STOP—!” My voice tore through the morning quiet. Lila spun around, the gas canister clattering to the sand. She frowned. “How did you find this place?” Rhys stepped in front of me, sighing dramatically. “Professor Ellis, it’s just the stand-in corpse you arranged. No need to get hysterical.” “Lila Ellis! That is your flesh and blood! You will be damned for this!” A flicker of uncertainty crossed Lila’s face, but it was quickly replaced by cold indifference. “What fresh delusion is this?” Rhys suddenly stepped aside. I stumbled forward, throwing myself onto the burning corpse, beating the flames with my bare hands. The stench of burning skin and oil was a physical blow to my lungs. My palms screamed in agony, but I didn’t care. “Don’t bother.” Rhys crouched down, his voice low and close to my ear. “Guess who gave us the body?” He gestured to the shadows. “Your good father. He delivered it to me at the funeral home himself.” I turned stiffly. My father emerged from behind the scrub brush, a look of ingratiating eagerness on his face. “Owen, why are you being so difficult? Mr. Rhys accepting this ‘gift’ is a huge favor to the Ellis family!” The world went silent. The crackle of the fire, Lila’s sharp voice, Rhys’s snicker—it all vanished. I only heard the rushing, roaring sound of blood in my ears. My father, seeing my silence, rushed forward and slapped me hard across the cheek. “Are you dumb? Say thank you to Mr. Rhys!” My cheek stung, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the desolation in my chest. Lila looked at my rapidly swelling face, frowned, and stopped him. “That’s enough. The project will include your family.” My father’s face broke into a delighted, fawning smile. He bobbed his head, looking like a desperate dog begging for a treat. I looked down at the charred, unrecognizable small body in my arms, and I started to laugh. The laughter grew, becoming a raw, strangled scream. Lila stepped back, startled. “You—” I cut her off, scooping up Finn’s remains, and ran for the cliff edge. “Owen Ellis!” She pursued me, grabbing a corner of the body bag at the precipice. As the cloth tore, Finn’s small arm, with the birthmark on his wrist, slipped out and landed directly in her hand. Lila’s eyes widened in a silent scream. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. I leaned back, letting gravity take me. Just before the abyss swallowed me, I saw it—a tear. A single, desperate tear falling from Lila’s eye.

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Genevieve and I were at City Hall, one signature—one final photo—away from legally becoming husband and wife, when her phone rang, and she was gone. She left me standing alone in the Marriage License Office, paralyzed and staring at the photographer’s empty backdrop. I called her phone. No answer. I sent a text. Nothing back. Finally, I called her childhood best friend’s number. Genevieve answered. “Liam, can you stop being so annoying? Brand twisted his ankle playing hoops, and I need to take him home and ice it down. Don’t keep calling and waking him up! We can just reschedule, okay?” My voice was a rough whisper. “This is the seventh time, Genevieve.” “So what? The office isn’t going anywhere!” A clerk looked at me with pity. “Sir, are you still going through with this?” I nodded, feeling the floor shift beneath me. “Yes. I am.” 1 I called my buddy’s older sister, a woman I’d met exactly once, and agreed to her outrageous proposition. I hung up, told the clerk I needed a few minutes, and stood there, the silence in my head deafening. It wasn’t long before Zara arrived. She rode a sleek, black Ducati, and when she walked in, peeling off her leather jacket and helmet, the entire office—staff and all—stared. She walked straight to me, hooked one long leg over the other, and grinned. “So, you finally decided? Ready to go through with this whole fake-marriage-to-shut-up-our-families thing?” I gave a small, defeated nod. It was initially just about getting my family off my back, but honestly, the most crucial part was Grandpa George. His health had been failing fast for the last six months, and every time I visited him in the hospital, he would ask when I was getting married. He wanted to see me in a tux. He wanted to know I’d be safe. He wanted to know someone would ‘cherish’ me after he was gone. That’s why I had been pushing Genevieve so hard to marry me all these months. We’d shown up here, at this very office, seven times. Every single time, Brand was the reason for the failure. The last time, Brand had a migraine, and she had to go home to make sure he took his meds. The time before that, Brand lost his keys and was locked out, and she had to drive across town to let him in. The time before that, Brand was craving the signature Lobster Roll from The Pier Cafe—clear on the other side of the city—and she had to rush to stand in line. Seven times. Every single one for Brand. Every single time, Genevieve threw me away without a second thought. The final, bitter irony? I gave her seven chances, and she wouldn’t even give me the five minutes it took to snap the photo. To be honest, I wasn’t that heartbroken by Genevieve’s final exit. Maybe I was just numb, or maybe I’d seen it coming. But the raw, physical grief hit me when I remembered Grandpa’s words from last week. “Liam, I don’t think I have much time left. I might not see you in that tuxedo. But even if you’re alone, you have to be brave. Don’t let anyone step all over you.” I had promised him I would be brave. And that meant no more compromises. Genevieve, you used up all your chances. All seven of them. The process with Zara was disturbingly quick. Everything went smoothly. But just as Zara and I were getting ready for our official photo, my phone buzzed. It was Genevieve. [Okay, Liam, stop being mad. I really couldn’t get away this time, but I made you your favorite dinner. Waiting for you when you get home! xoxo] Zara glanced at my phone, a look of cool detachment in her eyes. “Still going to do this?” I took a deep breath, my face blank. “Keep going.” We finished the paperwork. We took the picture. We walked out with a marriage certificate in my hand. Before she started her bike, I spoke. “Are you free tomorrow? There’s one more thing I need you to come with me for.” Zara swung her leg over the Ducati’s seat. “Call me. I’m sure my parents will need you to make an appearance sooner than you think.” Then, she was gone. Seven years of dating Genevieve—four years in college, three years after. A lifetime of history, broken. And now, I was married to my buddy’s sister, a woman I had met once. On the drive home, Genevieve sent another message, complete with a photo: the dining table laden with all the food she’d promised. [Seriously, where are you? Dinner’s ready. If you’re late, it’ll be gone!] She was true to her word. When I got back to the apartment, the dining table was a disaster. The food was scraped clean. Brand was sitting nearby, looking up at me with fake innocence. He spoke in a high, pitiful tone. “I’m so sorry, bro. I was just so hungry, I couldn’t wait.” Even I wasn’t stupid enough to miss the blatant smirk underneath the veneer of apology. He was provoking me. My blood turned to ice. I clenched my fists until my nails dug painfully into my palms. Brand and Genevieve were inseparable childhood friends. In her eyes, he was always the highest priority. It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, our relationship had been easy. We rarely fought. Even when it was my fault, she’d take the blame immediately. My friends envied me for having a woman who cherished me that much. That envy ended six months ago, the day Brand showed up. Her affection for me vanished. “Liam, why are you just now getting back? I texted you hours ago.” Genevieve emerged from the kitchen, her eyebrows knitted in annoyance. She was used to me dropping everything and racing home the second she called. “I was delayed with something on the road. I’m late.” “What was so important that you missed dinner?” Her tone was flat, but edged with accusation. I had no intention of telling her about the marriage. I had decided to leave, and from this moment forward, Genevieve was a stranger. I was here for one thing: my luggage. “Nothing. The company needs me to travel. I’m here to pack my bags.” I didn’t wait for her response and walked straight to the bedroom. But the moment I opened the door, I froze. The bed I had neatly made that morning was tossed. The closet was open, clothes piled everywhere. I could ignore all that. But on the floor, next to the nightstand, lay the hand-built replica of the Empire State Building Grandpa and I spent months piecing together—the one he gave me. It was snapped clean in half. Shards of the plastic frame littered the rug. I couldn’t hold it in. I shouted her name. “Who was in this room? Who touched my things?” Genevieve walked in, frowned, and then shrugged, her face smoothing into indifference. “It’s just some craft project, Liam. I’ll get someone to glue it back together for you.” I stared at her. That careless tone—it was the exact sound of someone saying, you don’t matter. And because of that, I knew it had to be Brand. Only he was worthy of her complete, irrational protection. “Brand broke it, didn’t he.” My calm question ignited her. She immediately flared up, eyes narrowed. “Do you have proof it was Brand? Maybe it wasn’t secured properly and just fell over!” “Don’t you dare accuse people, Liam! Before you blame Brand, you need evidence, or I’ll sue you for defamation!” The soft flesh inside my cheek was almost chewed through. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. She was truly going to protect him. I was the one who was defamed, just for asking a simple question. The Genevieve I loved wasn’t like this. I remembered the rainy night I fell for her. I’d been in a car accident, and she’d run to me, without an umbrella, yelling at the other driver. This reserved woman had shed every ounce of composure for me, fighting anyone who threatened me. Where was that Genevieve? I didn’t fight it. As she said, I had no proof. I knelt down carefully, gathering the broken pieces of the skyscraper. Brand hobbled in from the doorway, his voice thick with fake tears. “Brother, please don’t fight with Genevieve because of me!” “Even if I didn’t do it, if you have to blame me, then blame me. No one ever liked me anyway, so it’s normal for you not to like me.” He intentionally limped closer and then knelt down in front of me. He pressed his bandaged foot onto one of the larger fragments and twisted it slowly. He leaned in, his voice dangerously low. “Yeah, it was me. What are you going to do?” Rage exploded in my skull, and I lunged, reaching to push him away. But before I even touched him, Brand conveniently stumbled, collapsing onto the ground. His wrapped foot then precisely hit the nightstand. A scream followed immediately. “Brother! I only wanted to help you!” Before I could process any of it, Genevieve had me by the hair. She was holding me with a grip I’d never felt, her eyes wide and terrifying, burning with a hatred that felt murderous. “Even if you don’t like Brand, you don’t have to hurt him! He’s an injured patient!” My head was yanked up, forcing me to look at them. A crushing bitterness spread from my tongue, tearing holes in my chest. “I didn’t even touch him!” The slap hit me across the face before I could finish the sentence. The red mark was instant. “You’re still lying? Liam, do you think I’m blind? I was standing right behind you! I saw you push him!” “First you accuse him, and now you knock him down. I never knew you were this cruel. You’re malicious!” My breath caught. I couldn’t argue. Nothing I said would change her mind now. She released me and looked down at me with cold disappointment. “No excuse, huh, Liam? You’re disgusting.” I felt a strange sense of relief. If I’d held onto one last flicker of hope for her, it had just been extinguished. Everything was quiet now. I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t try to explain. Brand, nestled in Genevieve’s arms, looked at me with smug victory. He mouthed one sentence, but I understood perfectly. “You’ll never be good enough for Genevieve.” Fine. You can have her. Genevieve panicked over Brand’s foot and rushed him to the hospital. I slowly stood up. The reflection in the mirror showed the angry, burning red of the handprint on my cheek. I could tell how much force she had used. I laughed, a dry, bitter sound, and wiped the slow bleed from the corner of my mouth. That slap shattered every illusion I’d ever held. I used the quiet time to gather everything in the apartment. All my clothes went into the suitcase. Anything I couldn’t take, I tossed into the trash. Before I left, I called a real estate agent and listed the house online. It was mine. Grandpa George had used his retirement savings to buy it for me as a wedding gift. Now, I didn’t need it. Dirty things. And I was done living in filth.

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When I went on “The Escape Pod,” a celebrity escape room reality show, with my movie-star husband, he locked himself and a young, relatively unknown actress in the main challenge room. He left me outside to deal with the terrifying Zombie NPC. The show was broadcasting live, and the comments were flying across the screen: [This room is a Blind Box challenge—no cameras inside, so no one knows what’s happening but them!] [But they announced the rule beforehand! They only need their heart rates to hit 180 to open the door!] [No way! The room is tiny! How can they exercise enough in there to hit 180?] [Guys, are we forgetting? There’s one kind of activity that doesn’t need much space but definitely gets the heart racing!] [Watch it, above! Keep it clean! Owen Mitchell is married to Scarlett Miller! Buy your own ticket to hell!] Just then, the door clicked open. I looked up. Owen Mitchell and Kira Bell were standing in the doorway, their fingers laced together. 1 In that moment, it wasn’t just me. The entire internet froze. On the live feed, the comment section exploded: [Wait, what? They just held hands and hit 180 BPM? Seriously?] [The shippers are coming for you, Director! Your set will be an empty wasteland!] [Didn’t they say the door was connected to a heart monitor? Does this mean Owen and Kira really… felt something?!] [Don’t start that rumor! Owen is a class act! He just didn’t want the network to bully a newbie actress. He was helping her, that’s all!] [Exactly! The show paired Kira with ‘ScOwen’ for this task—they clearly wanted to eliminate her early! Owen remembered his own struggle and stepped in. Don’t let your mind jump to romance!] I slowly turned my gaze to Owen. The gentle, adoring look he once saved for me was utterly gone, replaced by a cold, sharp edge, and a flicker of impatience at being caught. “Ms. Miller, please! You have to believe me!” Kira abruptly snatched her hand back, her eyes wide and timid. “Owen and I were just acting for a moment. He just didn’t want to see me eliminated in the first round. Please, Ms. Miller, don’t read anything into it!” I arched a brow and glanced at the heart rate monitor beside the door. The machine, which had been silent and still moments before, had spiked violently when Owen and Kira’s fingers interlocked. “You can even fool the machines. You two deserve a Golden Globe for that performance.” “I…” “Scar.” Owen frowned, subtly stepping in front of me, blocking my view of Kira. “Kira just debuted last year. It would be a huge loss if she had to leave the business over this show. I just wanted to do what I could to help, like you did for me all those years ago.” So Owen remembered. He remembered I was the one who went against the entire board at Miller Entertainment to sign him, who plucked him from a string of thankless extra roles and turned him into the powerhouse A-list star he is today. Then how could he? How could he brazenly flirt with a newcomer right under my nose, in front of countless cameras? “According to the show’s rules, the person who stays behind has to accept the consequence of a career ‘timeout,’ or elimination.” I looked up at Owen. “You took her out. Did you ever stop to think about what would happen to me?” The camera’s red light pulsed above my head, a silent, mocking eye. As Owen hesitated, the comments surged again: [She’s right! Scar Miller might not act much, but she’s been in the business since her debut with Owen in Rewind Tonight over a decade ago. Is the show really going to take out an entertainment executive?] [What is up with Owen? Ignoring his wife to save a newbie? And Kira, where’s your common sense? Don’t you know how to give a married couple space?] [Don’t blame Kira! Blame the Director! Pairing her with the ‘ScOwen’ couple for this task was clearly meant to eliminate her! They keep stealing her screen time!] [Just saying, doesn’t the vibe between ‘ScOwen’ feel totally off today? Are they actually having trouble?] “Scar.” 2 Owen sighed. “You have Miller Entertainment behind you. Even if you step back from acting, you’re still Ms. Miller, the CEO! Kira is different; she has nothing…” “So?” I cut him off. “You want me to take the fall?” Owen pressed his lips together. His silent, averted gaze gave me his answer. I let out a short, cynical laugh, pulled out my phone, and logged into my professional Instagram account. I drafted and posted a public statement announcing my “hiatus” from the screen. Owen relaxed instantly, patting my head. “That’s a good girl. You were never trained for acting anyway. We should leave the opportunities for the talented newcomers.” He glanced at Kira, then led her away. I signaled for the camera operator to shut off the feed, then called my assistant, Liam. “Notify Director Finn. The lead role in his new S-list project, Against the Current? We’re replacing the male lead.” Liam’s voice hitched. “Ms. Miller, did you and Owen… have a fight?” “No.” Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, I continued. “It’s a divorce.” Liam sucked in a sharp breath. “But… what about Director Finn’s project? Owen was confirmed. Changing the lead now—never mind the breach of contract penalty—the Director won’t find a replacement on such short notice!” The broadcast’s ‘Mid-Show Break’ announcement sounded just then. The production assistant came forward to remove my microphone pack. He was young, with clean, sharp features and focused eyes. As his fingers deftly unclipped the equipment from my collar, I suddenly lifted my hand and tilted his chin up. The coldness of my touch made him stiffen, but he didn’t falter. He pressed his thumb against his headset, his voice calm and level. “Area B, Room 302. Bring Ms. Miller a cup of hot water, please.” Bold and smart. So, I asked him, “How badly do you want to act?” Walking out of the studio, Owen was surrounded by a gaggle of fans. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Owen’s laugh was loud and triumphant. “Smooth sailing! From my debut to now, I’ve had the best ride!” I couldn’t help the harsh, choked laugh that escaped me. A nearby fan, a staunch ‘ScOwen’ shipper, immediately swarmed me. “Scar, did you and Owen fight? You’re not really leaving the business over a reality show, are you?” “We want you to keep acting, Scar! Don’t go!” “Don’t worry!” Before I could respond, Owen strode over and slung a possessive arm around my shoulder, his voice warm and intimate for the cameras. “It’s all for the show’s drama. Scar and I are doing great!” The fans sighed in relief and passed over photos for us to sign. As countless glossy prints were shoved toward me, one dual movie poster caught my eye. It was from Rewind Tonight, our first collaboration and my acting debut. Back then, Owen’s profile was too low; no established actress would take the role opposite him, so I stepped in myself. That movie was his breakout hit. Many shippers still saw Rewind Tonight as the genesis of our romance. People often came up to us with this exact poster to get both signatures. But this time, the spot where my name should have been signed next to Owen’s was instead scrawled with the name: Kira Bell. “Ms. Miller, please! You have to believe me!” Kira appeared at my side, pointing at the signed photo in my hand. “It’s all my fault! I was just standing next to Owen and talking to the fans. I didn’t look closely at the picture they handed me, and I accidentally signed it…” I looked at Kira’s tearful, pitiful expression and smiled. “Going blind so young… tough break for a career in Hollywood.” My voice wasn’t quiet. The whole area hushed. Even the chattering fan groups went silent. “Scarlett, it’s just a photo. Kira already apologized. Do you really have to be so cruel?” Owen’s face darkened. He grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, glancing at the scattered camera crews, his voice tight with anger. “I know you have a powerful family, but do you want the whole internet to see you bullying a struggling young actress?” I curled my lips. “Am I the cruel bully, or are you two just fundamentally dishonest?” “You!” Sensing the scene was escalating, the Director rushed over to disperse the crowd. Owen quickly pulled me further away. “Okay, honey, I shouldn’t have snapped! I just don’t want them to clip that and make you look bad.” “Kira and I are just colleagues. You have to trust me! I know you’re upset about the game, but I talked to the Director. You can finish this episode before your ‘hiatus.’ That’s fair, right?” I didn’t answer. I just stood there, looking at him with a frightening calmness. “Owen, do you remember the first thing the heroine said in Rewind Tonight after she found out the hero was cheating?” 3. Owen’s expression froze, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “That was a decade ago! Who remembers old lines?” Just then, the Director’s voice boomed, signaling the next segment. Owen looked relieved and hurried toward the staging area without a second glance. Watching his retreating back, I dialed Liam’s number again. “Check Owen’s current film and endorsement contracts. Cancel all of them. Immediately.” “The penalty fees? I’ll cover them.” Just like the line in the movie: Your work, your dreams, your career… I will take every single thing you own. For the second round, the contestants were taken to a massive observation wheel. The Director required us to split into two-person and one-person teams based on a compatibility test. The two-person team would ride to the highest point and complete a kiss challenge. The odd-one-out would be locked in an isolation booth and would have to use clues transmitted via camera during the kiss to find an escape key. Hearing the rules, the comments section immediately boiled over: [This challenge was custom-made for the ‘ScOwen’ couple! The Kiss at the Apex! The producers are geniuses!] [Ahhh, we get to see Mom and Dad make out! Best night of the year for shippers!] [Cameras, aim right! I need HD and uncensored!] In a corner no one was paying attention to, Kira tugged on Owen’s sleeve, her voice pitiful. “Owen, can you try to let me win the quiz? I—I’m terribly afraid of the dark. I can’t be alone in the booth.” Owen didn’t answer immediately, but I saw the hesitation and doubt in his eyes. The compatibility quiz began. Sure enough, when it came to questions about me, Owen failed spectacularly—my least favorite food, my alma mater, even the name of the rescue dog we adopted together years ago. He had no clue. After the first round, the Director looked even more stressed than I did. This was clearly derailing his plan to use our “model marriage” for ratings. There was nothing to do but let Owen and Kira try the second round. But to everyone’s shock, Owen knew everything about Kira—from her astrology sign and her biggest dream, down to the song she listened to the night before. The correct answer chimes rang out one after another, but the atmosphere on set turned awkward and frozen. [Wait… this isn’t right. He knows nothing about his wife, but he knows all that about Kira?] [Did Kira cheat? Trying to cash in on the drama is one thing, but this is too obvious!] [Scarlett’s been stone-faced all day. Are they really having a messy fight?] [Stop with the conspiracy theories! It’s reality show script, come on! They’re just generating buzz for ‘ScOwen’!] The final score was, predictably, a landslide— Owen and Kira won with a crushing advantage, becoming the only two selected for the observation wheel kiss. “Honey, don’t worry.” With the cameras on us, Owen leaned down and sealed my mouth with a swift kiss. In the brief moment our lips touched, he patted my head, his tone tender. “It’s just a game. Just think of it as shooting a scene on location. You understand, right?” [OMG, kissing right in front of the cameras! I’m obsessed!] [Who said ‘ScOwen’ was breaking up? It’s just reality TV drama! I’m back to believing in love!] [Worried his wife would be jealous watching him kiss another woman, so he kisses his wife first before getting on the wheel. This is the ultimate romance!] “No.” My refusal was firm and loud. Owen froze. Kira immediately scurried over. “Ms. Miller, please don’t misunderstand!” She wrung her hands, her eyes instantly welling up. “Owen and I are only doing this to complete the challenge. I know I can’t possibly compare to you, but the rules are the rules… I have no choice…” 4 Her fragile, pathetic display was captured perfectly by the cameras, and the stream of comments attacking me began to flood the screen. [It’s just a game! Does Scarlett need to throw a tantrum? Look how scared poor Kira is!] [Tantrum? How would you like it if your husband kissed a stranger on a Ferris wheel?] [The people earning three thousand a month are sympathizing with the people earning thirty million a month? They get paid to take this kind of crap!] [Exactly! And our Kira is so pretty, it’s not like the movie star is suffering!] Owen saw the scrolling comments and intervened. “Scar, stop being dramatic. Everyone is watching.” He paused, his expression softening slightly as he looked at me. “Did you forget? You have claustrophobia and a fear of heights. You’d be miserable up there. Letting Kira substitute for you is a favor, isn’t it?” I stared at Owen. “I didn’t forget.” He forgot. After the elevator accident on the set of Rewind Tonight, I was trapped for ten hours. The doctors diagnosed me with the severe claustrophobia that still plagues me. Owen had once held me, his voice choked with tears, and promised, “I will never leave you alone in the dark again!” He forgot. The moment Owen turned his back to walk away with Kira, the coldness in my heart spread to my fingertips. I rushed forward, grabbing his wrist, discarding the last shred of composure for the cameras. “Owen, I can’t be down here alone, I—” “Scarlett!” His patience snapped. He cut me off, raising his voice. “Enough! This is work! Does a basic professional requirement have to be an excuse for your paranoia?” He looked around, his sharp gaze cutting back to me. “Filming a kiss scene is an actor’s job! Everyone overcomes difficulties to get the shot! Are you special? Are you too precious? Stop being so dramatic!” Owen’s sudden change in attitude startled the production team. Dozens of eyes stared at him. I released his hand. All the fear, the anger, and that last, ridiculous sliver of hope sank into the cold depths of my eyes with that single motion. Owen seemed satisfied with my compliance. He signaled to the Director. “Let’s stick to the plan. Kira and I will go up. Scarlett… needs to cool off.” Kira followed behind him. As she passed me, the corner of her mouth lifted in a faint smirk—gone in an instant, but sharp and undeniable. I stood there, watching their backs as they headed toward the observation wheel. Then I pulled out my phone and quickly texted Liam: [Terminate all of Owen Mitchell’s contracts. I want him gone from the entertainment industry after this episode wraps.]

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The system asked me to redeem the villain, but I set the time travel to the year when the villain wasn’t even an embryo. The system was dumbfounded, then reacted: “Oh, you plan to adopt the villain later and give him a complete childhood.” I shook my head, looking gently at the little girl shivering on the ground. “No, I’m here to redeem the villain’s mom.” 1 “Indeed, instead of trying to conquer the villain with love, it’s better to influence him with family affection so he won’t grow up to be a villain… Wait, what did you just say? You want to redeem the villain’s mom!” The system was shocked and quickly tried to dissuade me. “Host, did you make a mistake? If the villain isn’t successfully redeemed, you will be erased.” I chuckled lightly. “System, are you stupid? What is the main reason the villain grows crooked? Being abandoned by his mother. “And why was he abandoned by his mother? Isn’t it because his mother didn’t have a good life either? “Then if I successfully redeem the villain’s mom, won’t the villain grow up straight under the guidance of a mother with normal values?” The system crashed from my five consecutive questions. After a while, its sluggish little brain finally reacted. “What you said… seems to make sense.” I held up a finger and shook it at the system. “So don’t question us big women in the future, okay?” The system nodded dully, and I refocused my gaze on the little girl in front of me. In the cold winter of December, she was huddled outside the door like a quail wearing only a single layer of clothes, her exposed forearm skin covered with mottled red marks. Seeming to sense my gaze, she looked up at me, casting a cold glance. Then quickly lowered her head and stopped looking at me. Such a look was the reason her biological parents didn’t like her. Of course, the most important thing was that she was missing a certain body part. I walked past her, picked up the knocker on the wooden door, and knocked hard. “Who is it? Who is knocking so early in the morning!” A middle-aged woman wearing a red padded jacket walked out cursing. She looked me up and down, eyes full of disdain and hidden jealousy. “Who are you?” I got straight to the point and threw an IOU at her. “You are He Shan’s wife, right? He Shan owes me two hundred dollars. I can’t find him now, so you pay me back for him. Otherwise, I will spread the news everywhere that your husband is looking for prostitutes in the city and not paying his debts.” The woman picked up the note and panicked. “You are talking nonsense! My man is not that kind of person! You must have seduced him! I knew it from your seductive look…” Before she finished her words, I impatiently picked up a wrist-thick wooden stick from the side and broke it directly in front of her. “Paying debts is a matter of course. It’s up to you whether you give it or not.” I smiled at her, revealing eight neat teeth. The woman was scared silly, her arrogance gone. She smiled ingratiatingly. “It’s not that I don’t want to give it to you. My family really doesn’t have that much money. How about waiting for my man to come back…” I frowned, and the woman immediately fell silent. My gaze circled around her small courtyard and finally landed on the little girl squatting at the door secretly looking at me. “Then give me your girl as collateral. Although she is young, she looks not bad.” The woman was stunned. Her eyes looked at me, then at the broken stick under my feet. Ten minutes later, the little girl followed behind my butt, walking unsteadily. 2 It wasn’t until she got into the taxi to the city with me that the little girl spoke in a muffled voice. “You are a human trafficker, right? Where are you going to sell me?” I was surprised. “Why do you think so? I am your family’s creditor.” The little girl shook her head. “My mom can’t read, but I can. The paper you threw at her was clearly a supermarket receipt.” I asked the system in my mind. “Did the villain’s mom not go to school?” The system confirmed and briefly reviewed the little girl’s life for me. “Helped with farm work at home until she was sixteen. Because she didn’t want to marry a rich old man, she fled to the city to work. She schemed to sleep with a rich CEO for one night and got pregnant with the villain. Later, the CEO’s white moonlight returned to the country. The villain’s mom lost to the white moonlight and was tortured to death by the CEO. The villain’s mom is also a cannon fodder vicious supporting female.” I shook my head and clicked my tongue. “Both are vicious supporting roles. Why does the system task only redeem vicious supporting males and not supporting females? If this character setting changes gender, it becomes a gloomy and pathetic little pitiful man. To put it bluntly, she is still missing a certain body part.” Seeing me silent, the little girl pulled my sleeve. I looked over, and she immediately withdrew her hand, as if afraid of dirtying my sleeve. “Can you sell me to the city? I look okay. Selling to the city will definitely fetch a good price.” The driver in front had looked over frequently through the rearview mirror. I held my forehead and quickly explained: “I am not a human trafficker. I am just a poor mother who just lost her daughter, so I want to adopt you as my daughter.” Well, in my last mission world, I was also someone’s mom. Since I have left that world, how does it not count as losing a daughter? The little girl didn’t speak anymore. She lowered her head like a dirty kitten. Seemingly defenseless, but actually tense all over, ready to explode at any moment. I reviewed my experience as a mother and reached out to hold her red and cold little hand in my palm. This grip made me realize that her hand was frighteningly rough and full of calluses. Meeting her sanpaku eyes, I took off my coat and put it on her. She subconsciously wanted to take it off. I stopped her. “If you freeze, you won’t sell for a good price.” Her body stiffened and didn’t move, just wrapped herself tightly in the down jacket, revealing a fluffy head. My heart softened suddenly. “Don’t worry, I don’t have a son. I won’t sell you for a bride price in the future.” 3 My identity in this world is a fake daughter who just jumped into the river in despair after learning her identity. She died, so I just borrowed her identity. When I stepped into the villa gate with the little girl, a voice was still persuading the real daughter. “Although she is not related to us by blood, the feelings of so many years are real. Moreover, although Julian should have been your fiancé, it is Lulu who has had feelings for him for so many years. How can we give him to you?” “I don’t listen to this. If it weren’t for her, how could I have suffered for so many years! Now you still favor her. I hate you, I hate you!” The dispute between the two stopped abruptly after I stepped into the house carrying Xixi. Xixi is the name I gave the little girl on the way, following my surname, full name Hua Xi. The real daughter, Hua Ting, turned her head away, not wanting to see me. Mother Hua asked me gently. “Lulu, who is this?” “My adopted daughter, Hua Xi. Xixi, say hello to your grandma and aunt.” With the help of the system, Xixi, who had just been registered, finally stopped suspecting that I was a human trafficker. At this moment, she just greeted the two people who were stunned on the spot obediently. “Hello Grandma, hello Auntie.” Mother Hua reacted first. “Wait, Lulu, who did you just say she is? Your adopted daughter? Registered? Why didn’t you discuss such a big matter with the family in advance? And your fiancé Julian, how can he accept this!” Hua Ting’s focus was: “Why should she call me Auntie? I don’t want you to be my sister!” Before I spoke, Xixi subconsciously stood in front of me. She bent slightly, arms tense, like a mother leopard protecting her cub. I was stunned and reached out to hold her small hand. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain to you after Xixi settles down. As for Julian, I will break off the engagement with him.” Mother Hua was anxious. “Are you worried that your dad and I won’t want you after Tingting is found? Don’t worry, you will always be our daughter.” Hua Ting rolled her eyes. “Here we go again, retreating to advance, right? Damn green tea.” I shook my head and pulled Xixi to the second floor. By the way, I threw a bombshell at them. “I went for sterilization surgery. I plan not to marry or have children in the future and devote myself to raising Xixi. Tell Julian to give up too.” After speaking, I silently pulled Xixi and disappeared from their sight, leaving only the two of them savoring the “sterilization surgery” in my mouth, messy in the wind. 4 Arriving in the room, I collapsed directly on the bed. The system was still babbling. “Host, when did you go for sterilization surgery? Why didn’t I know! Aren’t we together all day!” I rolled my eyes. “System, are you stupid? If I didn’t say this, how could the real daughter let down her guard against me? “Instead of engaging in sisterly love, it’s more practical for me to directly give up the right to inherit the family property.” System: “Right.” I suddenly remembered something, turned my head, and sure enough saw a certain small dumpling still standing straight at the door. On the way here, I bought her new clothes and took her to a barbershop to wash her hair, asking the barber to tie two buns for her. Looking like a doll in a New Year picture. I waved at her. Xixi moved over slowly. “Are you going to be kicked out of the house?” I pulled her to sit on the bed and asked her: “Why do you think so?” She whispered: “Because you are not their biological daughter.” I looked at Xixi’s pointed chin. Good, this kid is smart and definitely won’t need my tutoring. I didn’t explain immediately, just followed her words. “Then what if we are kicked out of the house and penniless?” She said seriously: “Then I will go farming to support you. I am very good at farming. I can compost, sow, and weed. The cornfield behind my house was planted by me.” Her head lowered more and more. “As long as you don’t send me back.” I finally knew where all the calluses on her hands came from. My heart soured suddenly. I hugged her in my arms, letting her pointed little chin rest on my broad shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t send you away, never in this life.”

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The wedding rehearsal was underway when Liam’s adopted sister, Mia, suddenly gagged. He panicked and rushed her to the hospital. Half an hour later, the call came: “She’s pregnant.” I was about to say congratulations when his voice, frighteningly calm, cut me off: “It’s mine… She broke up with her boyfriend that night, she was soaked from the rain and shivering. I just held her to keep her warm, I didn’t expect…” “We have to keep this from Mom and Dad. I’ll bring her home to take care of her until the baby is born.” “We’ll postpone the wedding for a year. You go explain and apologize to the guests.” My throat tightened; I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. He continued: “Oh, and you need to quit your job immediately. Mia needs someone to take care of her. Nothing can happen in these next few months.” I suddenly laughed: “Okay.” He hung up, satisfied. But he didn’t know about the bet I made with him. If I wasn’t married by thirty, I’d marry him. And today, happened to be my thirtieth birthday. …… Perhaps my calm reaction was too unusual, because three seconds after hanging up, Liam called back. “Chloe, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. But believe me, I only see Mia as a sister. The baby really is an accident.” I laughed self-deprecatingly: “Yeah, deep sibling affection. Keeping warm led to bed. How touching.” There was a noticeable pause on the other end, followed by his helpless sigh: “I understand if you’re angry. You can curse at me, hit me. But Mia is still in school. Unmarried and pregnant, and she can’t even say who the father is…” “She’s an orphan. Although Mom and Dad adopted her and treat her like their own, the Whitman family won’t accept this kind of thing. They’ll definitely kick her out.” “So I hope you can claim the baby as yours. Since you’ll be quitting your job and staying home anyway, no one will suspect it’s not yours.” Looking up to blink back the tears stinging my eyes, I said dryly: “Liam, let’s not get married.” “Not get married?” He was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly roared, “Chloe, are you annoying or what?! Weren’t you the one who said we’ve been dating for five years and pestered me to having the wedding asap?” “Now the whole circle knows you’re my fiancée. Do you think marriage is a game? Chloe, since when did you become so willful?” I could imagine his furrowed brows right now, and sure enough, the next second I heard him threaten: “Princess Chloe, I’m asking you one last time! Do you really not want to get married?!” My fingers gripped the phone tightly, and I gave a bitter smile: “Yeah, I don’t want you anymore, Liam.” He sneered, “I’m not in the mood to deal with your tantrums. Suit yourself!” The phone was hung up harshly. I stood in the middle of the banquet hall, under everyone’s surprised gazes, tore off my veil, turned around and ran out. Liam’s parents quickly blocked my path. His father, Mr. Whitman, spoke first: “Chloe, what kind of crazy fit are you throwing? Just because Liam took his sister to the hospital, you want to ruin this wedding? Let hundreds of guests watch the Whitman family become a laughingstock?” Mrs. Whitman huffed coldly and added: “I said long ago it wasn’t a good match. The Whitman family has generations of scholars, the Carter family is just new money. Not a suitable match at all.” “But Liam insisted, I couldn’t do anything. Look, today it became a joke!” Mr. Whitman sneered: “Good, good! Not getting married is good too. Save her temper from offending people in the future and ruining the Whitman family’s reputation.” Clearly it was Liam who was at fault first, but these two came to blame me instead. I gripped the veil tight, my fingertips trembling: “The wedding was cancelled by Liam. As for the specific reason… you two elders should ask him. I feel ashamed to say it.” Hearing that this was Liam’s idea, they became even more self-righteous. “Even if Liam cancelled it, you as the bride ran away without saying a word? Shouldn’t you apologize to everyone in person?” “How did your parents raise you? You don’t even understand the most basic social etiquette. How can you be the daughter-in-law of my Whitman family?” I took a deep breath: “I won’t marry into the Whitman family. If you two elders have nothing else, please step aside.” “You!” Their faces changed drastically, obviously not expecting the usually docile me to be so tough. I ignored them and walked past them directly towards the dressing room. Mrs. Whitman yelled exasperatedly behind me: “Uneducated thing!” In the dressing room, someone was already waiting there. The fitted sportswear showed off his broad shoulders and long legs. The sunlight hit him from the side, outlining a clean silhouette. Only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him; he probably didn’t sleep well. Seeing me come in, he straightened up with his arms crossed, the familiar, punchable smile on his lips. I turned my face away: “Someone swore they wouldn’t attend my wedding?” He suddenly leaned in, his warm breath sweeping past my ear. The moment our eyes met, I suddenly saw that stubborn boy from ten years ago. “Chloe, a bet’s a bet.” I pursed my lips and didn’t make a sound. He suddenly got anxious: “You forgot?!” “I don’t care, we’re getting married in three days. If you don’t come…” He paused, as if risking everything, “I’ll go to the Carter family and become a live-in son-in-law!” After speaking, as if afraid to hear my rejection, he quickly slipped out the door. I suddenly laughed out loud. This idiot, of course I remember the bet. Our families have been friends for generations, we grew up together, we know each other too well to be lovers. Ten years ago, he confessed to me, I said let’s just be friends. He looked hurt and insisted on making a bet with me. Didn’t expect that in the end, I still lost. Chapter 2 Just changed out of my wedding dress, Liam sent a photo. All my belongings were piled up like trash at the villa door. The red wedding quilt my mom sewed by hand was the most eye-catching, stuffed haphazardly into a transparent plastic bag, the bright red satin hurting my eyes in the sunlight. “Move them away immediately!” “If you don’t want them, I’ll have Mrs. Zhang throw them away.” I stared at the screen, my fingertips cold. He knew how to manipulate me too well. I could leave everything else, but I had to get the wedding quilt back. “Okay, I’m coming.” My mom spent three months making that quilt. Someone who never touched needles and thread, her fingers were pricked full of blood spots. The night before the wedding, she smiled and stuffed the quilt into my arms: “Daughter, be happy forever.” But when I rushed over, the doorway was empty. Only half an hour. I clearly said I would come, was he so impatient to kick me out? Anger suddenly surged up, I pushed open the villa gate and rushed in. The moment I opened the door, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. Mia sat on the edge of the dining table, Liam held her waist with both hands, his cheek pressed against Mia’s bulging belly, his eyes dazzlingly gentle. “Brother,” Mia suddenly cried out softly, “The baby kicked me.” Liam immediately pressed closer, the corner of his mouth raised in an arc I had never seen before: “So naughty, just like you when you were little.” When he looked up, his gaze was so soft it could drip water, “If only the eyes were like yours too.” Mia pursed her lips and smiled. Liam skillfully kissed her lips, his tone suddenly becoming guilty: “Have you really decided to leave after giving birth? Actually… you can stay, I can take care of you and the baby. How can such a small baby be without a biological mother.” Mia put her index finger against his lips and shook her head: “Brother, if I don’t leave, what about Chloe?” Hearing the name “Chloe”, Liam was visibly stunned, then his face darkened: “Her? Saying breakup now is just acting out of spite. When the baby is born, won’t she be begging me to come back and help raise it? A merchant’s daughter like her only sees profit in her eyes, where is the dignity.” “Did you forget how she rushed to be my girlfriend back then? That disgusting face, it makes me sick thinking about it now.” My tears fell silently. It turned out that the confession I mustered up my courage for back then, actually disgusted him for so many years. The Whitman family is the top calligraphy family in the city, Liam is the youngest famous calligrapher in the city. Five years ago, he brought his handwritten calligraphy to my dad to invest in the Gu’s Calligraphy Academy. My dad couldn’t stop praising him and specially introduced him to me. I fell in love with him at first sight and pestered him to learn calligraphy. He pointed at me angrily and scolded: “Stupid, no talent at all!” I grinned playfully: “Then be my boyfriend, we complement each other.” He glanced at Mia who was writing with her head down, suddenly held my hand, and laughed self-deprecatingly: “Alright.” I jumped up happily and hugged him, completely unaware of Mia’s back rushing out, and his instantly stiff arms. Now I understand, his heart has always held Mia. No wonder later he refused to teach me calligraphy, and even forbade me from entering the study. My heart felt bitter, I wanted to turn around and leave, but remembered my mom’s handmade wedding quilt couldn’t be lost. “Chloe!” Liam suddenly turned his head, sarcastically curling the corners of his mouth, “What are you doing sneaking around at the door? Your things have been thrown out for you, regret now?” I pinched my palm hard: “Where’s my wedding quilt? Give it back to me.” He paused, his face colder: “A ragged quilt, I care?” “That was sewn by my mom herself.” My voice started to tremble, “Give it back to me, I’ll leave immediately.” Seeing me about to cry, he frowned: “You’re crying! Are you sick? Is it worth it?” “It is worth it!” I roared, tears finally falling down. Chapter 3 Liam tugged at his bow tie irritably, wanting to speak but stopping. Mia at the side suddenly seemed to remember something and spoke anxiously: “Chloe, don’t yell at brother, I asked the servants to put your things in the guest room.” As she spoke, her fingers gently stroked her belly, tears welled up instantly: “Chloe, can you not move out? If it’s because of this baby… I, I can get an abortion. His arrival was a mistake to begin with, none of you welcome him…” Before she could finish, she was already crying uncontrollably. “Let them try!” Liam’s voice was almost out of control, he trembling hugged Mia tightly into his arms, turning his head to glare viciously at me. “She can leave if she wants, but don’t think about touching my child! Now you and the baby are my everything!” “Chloe, if this is your purpose of coming over, please get out of here!” I sneered and walked straight to the guest room. The wedding quilt was carelessly thrown on the floor, covered in stains and vomit, the original dragon and phoenix embroidery became filthy. I pointed at the quilt with trembling fingers: “Mia, explain this!” She shrunk her neck timidly, “I didn’t mean to, I just suddenly felt nauseous…” Saying that, she was about to bend over to pick it up, “Chloe, don’t be angry, I’ll help you wash it clean.” But just as she bent over, she cried out in pain. “Ah! My stomach hurts so much.” Liam rushed over violently and pushed me to the ground. The back of my head hit the leg of the bed heavily, severe pain exploded, warm liquid flowed down my forehead. I bit my lip without making a sound, just smiled and looked at Liam, wanted to see clearly if he had a heart. He hugged Mia, his cold eyes revealing extreme disgust: “How much? I’ll pay! I beg you, stop pestering us, is it fun to torture me and Mia with such trivial things, do you feel accomplished?” My heart felt like it had a hole punched in it. He used to treat me coldly, but never looked at me with such eyes, he must hate me to the core now. Suddenly felt very meaningless, why bother to annoy him here. I compromised. The wedding quilt is dirty, I don’t want it anymore. This dirty man, I don’t want him anymore either. I propped myself up to stand: “Liam, I don’t lack money.” When I turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed me, a trace of helplessness in his expression: “You’re in a bad mood today, go back to the Carter family to calm down for a few days, I’ll pick you up in three days.” I flung off his hand and quickly left this place. This home we built for years, I was just a passerby after all. … Carter family home. The farce at the wedding, I’ve already explained to my parents. Seeing me back, Mom let out a long sigh of relief: “Daughter, Mom actually wants to thank God! If this was discovered after marriage, what would you do?” “The Whitman family always disliked us merchants for being money-grubbing, their scholarly family raised such shameless things!” Dad sighed lightly: “Don’t talk about this, daughter is uncomfortable. I’ve asked my assistant to withdraw all investment in Gu’s Calligraphy Academy, from now on our Carter family has nothing to do with the Whitman family!” I was hesitating whether to mention Alex’s matter, Mom suddenly said: “By the way, Alex came today, even brought the betrothal gift.” She took out a velvet box from the drawer of the coffee table, “This kid is quick in action.” Opening the box, inside was a pair of heirloom jade bracelets. Only then did I really realize that the wedding in three days, Alex was serious. Chapter 4 Night falls. Mia sent me a message. “Chloe, come back.” “I’ll move out right away, I don’t want the baby either.” “You and brother have five years of feelings, can’t be ruined because of me, I will feel guilty for a lifetime.” I stared at the screen and sneered, if she wanted to make a fuss, she could go to her brother, why come to me. I replied two words: “Suit yourself.” Then, simply blocked her. After doing these, I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window in a daze, my heart always feeling a bit desolate. My phone suddenly vibrated, Alex’s video call invitation popped up. “Chloe,” he in the screen had bright eyes, “Give me a heart gesture.” I stunned: “Why suddenly…” Heart gesture? So cheesy. “I don’t care,” he leaned close to the lens like acting shamelessly, “I want it now.” Amused by his childlike expression, I helplessly quickly made a heart gesture, getting goosebumps myself first. He immediately covered his chest, closed his eyes and made an exaggerated intoxicated expression. When he opened his eyes again, he suddenly winked at me with his right eye. My heartbeat suddenly missed a beat. “Look outside the window, gift in return for you.” He chuckled lightly hinting me, the video stopped abruptly. The night sky outside the window suddenly lit up. Hundreds of drones formed a flashing heart shape, then changed into a line of words: “Chloe, Happy Birthday” Tears instantly blurred my vision. Today’s farce made me forget even my own birthday. But he still remembered, although a bit cheesy, I felt his sincerity and liked it very much. While Liam, every year on my birthday, he only wrote the four words “Happy Birthday” with a pen, not even signing my name. “My calligraphy works have collection value,” he always explained like this, “If I write your name, no one will be willing to collect them.” This year, he simply said: “Too busy preparing for the wedding, no time to write.” But the so-called wedding preparations. Choosing the wedding dress was me trying in more than twenty shops alone. Booking the hotel was me comparing more than thirty quotes. Sending invitations was me writing more than three hundred personal letters late at night. The only time he participated was when I tried the main dress, he barely squeezed out five minutes to come, but stared at his watch to check the time throughout the process. Turns out his lack of love for me, was always traceable. My heart suddenly tightened, I urgently looked up and blinked. Too many tears have been shed today, at least on my birthday, I want to leave the last bit of dignity for myself. In my sleep, the phone vibrated, I groggily pressed the answer button. Liam’s voice roared over: “Chloe, you come to the hospital immediately, something happened to Mia!” I woke up instantly, was the message she sent serious? Didn’t even change clothes, I wore pajamas, stepped on slippers and rushed out the door. When I arrived at the ward, I saw Mia leaning well on the headboard, Liam was gently peeling an apple for her. The two were in a state of peaceful years, while I was wearing slippers with half a foot slipping out, like a clown. Seeing me appear, Liam suddenly erupted, violently dragged me to the hospital bed: “Kneel down to Mia!” I looked up in astonishment, before I could react, my leg bend suddenly took a heavy kick. My knees hit the ground hard, the piercing pain made me unable to move for a moment. “Liam! Are you crazy?” I stared at him fiercely. The rage翻涌 in his eyes was scary: “Mia cut her wrist! Almost killed two lives! Don’t say I’m crazy, I really want to kill you now!” Mia wept at the right time: “Brother, I sent a message to apologize to Chloe, she blocked me. Chloe must hate me to death, she doesn’t want to see me again, what’s the meaning of my living…” Although I disliked her, I didn’t want to get involved in human life. Busy looking up to examine her, there was a half-centimeter-long wound on her wrist, coated with iodine, already scabbed. This is cutting wrist suicide? A sadness in heart, I pulled the corner of my lips, “Liam, if I come tomorrow, would her wound have healed?” He exploded instantly: “Chloe! Why are you so vicious? If I hadn’t discovered it in time… do you know what the consequences of excessive blood loss for a pregnant woman are?” This is probably concern leads to confusion. A tiny wound made him lose his temper, while he ignored the blood flowing on my forehead. He must love Mia miserably. My heart seemed to be tied with a stone and sank straight down, I frowned, wordless. This seemed to completely completely anger him, he threw the fruit knife at me, saying fiercely. “Since you think it doesn’t matter, then make the same wound, taste the pain yourself, this is what you owe Mia!” Looking at him incredulously, this is the man I loved death-heartedly for five years. At this moment, the heart was totally cold. Isn’t it just one cut? Just return it to her. Lowering my eyes to hide the tears in my eyes, I picked up the knife and lightly cut on my wrist. Mia screamed in fright. I struggled to stand up, put my hand in front of Liam’s eyes: “Enough?” Fresh blood dripped down constantly. His eyelashes trembled quickly, glanced disdainfully. Then turned to comfort the frightened Mia, not forgetting to curse in a low voice. “Who made you cut so deep, really hopelessly stupid.” I smiled silently, staggering to the door. He suddenly threw a sentence: “Chloe, reflect well in the Carter family! Three days later, I will pick you up.” My tears fell while laughing. Liam, we, will never meet again.

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Twin campus heartthrobs played a prank on me, pretending to be the same person and dating me. The older brother was cold during the day, the younger one passionate at night. I saw comments saying: 【The younger brother is really trying hard for his brother and the heroine’s happiness.】 【To prevent the supporting female from discovering his brother is dating the heroine, he endures disgust to entangle the supporting female at night, so pitiful.】 I didn’t cry or get angry. Young people are full of vigor and have beautiful faces; I’m not picky. At night, I casually said to the younger brother: “We’ve been dating for three months, shouldn’t we take it a step further?” He froze. I feigned ignorance, tilting my head: “Didn’t you agree during the day?” During the day, I said to the cold older brother: “You’re so good at night, I like that side of you more.” The older brother was furious. 1 I discovered something was off with Cole one night. Usually aloof, he had taken off his jacket, revealing a black tank top over his taut chest. He knelt on one knee, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Like a fluffy puppy, he nuzzled his head against my stomach. “Sister, don’t go.” His eyes were wet, begging me to get him drunk. “Spend more time with me.” Usually, Cole buttoned his shirt all the way to the top. Always pursing his lips, holding books, saying he was busy going back to self-study. It didn’t feel like dating; it was more like dealing with a foolish nouveau riche who sponsored his tuition. I rubbed his head and said gently, “You’re about to miss the dorm curfew. I’ll drive you back to school.” Hearing this, the arms around my waist became scalding hot, hugging even tighter. He nervously said, “Sister, can I sleep here tonight?” Just as I was about to speak, I accidentally saw the comments: 【OMG, the younger brother pretending to be Cole is so disgusting I have goosebumps.】 【Hahahaha, Clay is sacrificing too much for his brother’s love this time.】 My eyes changed as I looked back at the man in front of me. I slowly lifted his chin. Looking at this beautiful and youthful face. Young people don’t know how to hide things. Behind the clinginess, coquetry, and eagerness was stiffness and resistance that couldn’t be hidden. Since we’re playing, let’s play fair. I smiled: “Okay.” I leaned in. Clay thought I was going to kiss him and instinctively dodged. But I just kissed his forehead. He was stunned for a moment. My thumb gently rubbed the corner of his eye. “Dummy. I won’t get you drunk; too much alcohol is bad for your health.” Clay flushed from his ears to his neck. He froze for a second, looking at me in disbelief. I gently said: “Go sleep in the guest room after showering.” Attacking the heart requires a slow approach. 2 During the day, Cole looked at me hesitantly. “Yesterday, we…” I feigned confusion: “What happened?” Seeing I hadn’t noticed, Cole relaxed and returned to his aloof self. “Nothing.” I propped my chin and looked at him. At the edge of his collar, half a hickey was faintly visible. Seems like first taste of forbidden fruit, no experience in covering up. “What’s that?” Cole frowned and popped his collar, “Nothing, just a mosquito bite.” 【Laughing to death, that was clearly done by the heroine last night. This poor couple finally had time for a date.】 【Yeah yeah, wait two years when Cole graduates and is financially independent, they won’t have to hide anymore, finally can break up with that old woman!】 Old? I’m only twenty-eight. I raised an eyebrow in displeasure. Cole whispered: “You’re jealous again. Don’t always be like this; it’s embarrassing if classmates see.” I replied absent-mindedly: “Yeah, I’m even jealous of mosquitoes.” At night. The younger brother disguised as Cole came again as expected. There was also a fake pinch mark on his neck, red and swollen. I beckoned him: “Come closer, I’ll apply medicine for you.” Clay leaned into my arms. I applied some ointment and gently blew on it. Clay, burying his head in a daze, suddenly shuddered. His ears were red again. I softly said: “Don’t hurt yourself again in the future.” He was flustered: “How do you kno—” Halfway through, he quickly stopped. He just softly said: “Okay, thank you, sister.” Clay leaned closer, gently hugged me, and lied smoothly: “I just… wanted sister to care about me, wanted you to spend more time with me, so I hurt myself on purpose.” I didn’t expose him: “Is that so? How to spend time?” Clay stammered: “Uh… uh… kiss?” I leaned over. He thought I would only kiss his forehead. But unexpectedly, I kissed his lips. Clay’s pupils constricted. I looked down at him and whispered: “Open your mouth, remember to breathe.” Clay trembled, instinctively hugging me. Like a drowning person drifting with the current, frantically clinging to me, this driftwood. Even the tip of his tongue was green and stiff. I moved away. He stared blankly at me, chest heaving. I pretended to be puzzled: “It’s not the first time, why are you so nervous?” Clay came back to his senses: “Huh?” I stopped while I was ahead. Teasing a bit was enough. I smiled and got up to leave, giving him time to buffer. 【This is his first kiss!】 【Look, Clay is so disgusted he froze completely. For his brother’s happiness, it’s not easy for him.】 【But why do I feel his expression looks more like reminiscing?】 … 3 Clay and I began to kiss frequently. He was passionate and loved dressing up. His figure and appearance were attractively good-looking. I liked it very much. So I bought him many clothes and accessories. Just like carefully selecting coating for my own car, spending some money, ultimately pleasing my own eyes. At first, Cole during the day would wear some clothes I newly bought to cover up the truth. A few days later, he stopped. I casually asked: “Where’s the couple ring I gave you yesterday? Why aren’t you wearing it?” Cole, who was reading, suddenly looked up. He froze. “What ring?” He only said half a sentence, then had to suppress it forcefully. Swallowing a belly full of dissatisfaction. He frowned and lowered his eyes: “Probably forgot it.” At night. Clay’s index finger still wore that shiny couple ring. He smilingly hugged me fully. Softly said: “Sister, the ring you gave me, I will always wear it carefully. Spend more time with me, okay?” I smiled and said okay. When Clay was showering, I saw his phone chat records. His brother asked a bit irritably: “Where’s the couple ring?” Clay: “What ring? Didn’t see it?” Cole was silent, sent after a few minutes: “Clay, she is just a superficial bad woman.” Clay replied fast: “I know, bro. I’m just playing along with her, don’t worry, I have my pace. You and sister-in-law just hurry up and live happily ever after.” After a long time, Cole sent another message. Clay hadn’t seen this one yet. “You guys shouldn’t have done anything, right?” I looked at the phone and smiled. Typed reply: “Bro, didn’t do anything shouldn’t be done.” What shouldn’t be done, what should be done? Based on my understanding of Cole, his excessive self-esteem probably wouldn’t allow him to ask explicitly. Cole indeed held back forcibly, didn’t speak again. I casually deleted these two messages. Clay walked out wet, wrapped in a bath towel. I looked at him. I knew, he was intentional, even brought a bit of vague and inexplicable competition. I softly said: “Want to sleep in the master bedroom?” Clay hesitated for a second. Eye corners turned red. He coughed and said softly: “Okay.” 4 Clay sat on the edge of the bed helplessly like a wet puppy. Nervous and stiff. I saw comments wailing. “Clay you are not this dull usually, do you really have to sacrifice to this extent?” “Calm down you guys. Cole hates the supporting female very much, so he lied before that he is very traditional and won’t do that with others before marriage! The supporting female wouldn’t possibly force herself onto him knowing this, right.” So that’s it. Saying traditional is fake, boldly cheating behind back is real. Saying young and a bit afraid is fake, wanting my money is real. I smiled. Childish tricks, really interesting. But I didn’t intend to force myself. What’s the fun in forcing, seducing him to beg me actively is the most interesting. Clay took a deep breath, finally determined to speak: “Disclaimer first, I won’t—” But I spoke ahead of him: “I still remember you said you have no experience and are a bit afraid. Don’t worry, we won’t do it tonight.” Clay, who thought he would be entangled, had no use for his full belly of drafts. He gave an empty “oh”. I said softly: “I just thought you were a bit lonely and wanted to accompany you more. Wanted to make you happy, make you have no nightmares, make you see me every morning. Cole, I have no other meaning, I just want to try my best to make you happy.” I held his hand, expression sincere, “I don’t know what happened to you recently to make you suddenly a bit fragile. If it’s inconvenient to say, it doesn’t matter, but if there’s really any difficulty, never shoulder it alone, I want to help you.” Clay couldn’t lift his head listening. He stammered, showing a burst of guilt on his face. “Sorry…” “Fool, didn’t do anything wrong, why apologize.” I kissed him smilingly. Clay’s eyes were dark, staring at me, complex emotions brewing into a whirlwind. His throat rolled, subconsciously opened his mouth. Another kiss, deeper, longer. I sat into his arms. Pecs were nice. His skin began to burn. “Sister…” he whispered忍耐地, “You are too close.” “Don’t worry, I have no other meaning, I just want to give you a warm hug.” This hug was tight, long. So long that Clay felt the moisture in his chest burned clean, almost suffocating. Young and vigorous, some things couldn’t be hidden, couldn’t be endured. I pretended to be surprised and looked down, Clay hastily hugged my head, not letting me look down. Blushing, he clumsily seduced me: “Actually, what I said before wasn’t—” I interrupted him again, smilingly said: “You’re right, what you said before is important, I fully respect your wishes.” I decisively let go of him, “Sorry, endure it, just sleep.” Clay: “……” Ten minutes later, in the silent darkness, Clay, who couldn’t sleep due to hardness, couldn’t help speaking. “Sis, when did we plan to get married before? After graduation?” I was surprised: “Not that fast, you seemed to say at least five years later.” “Five years.” Clay took a deep breath. Thinking I was completely asleep, he muttered expressionlessly: “Five years? What was he thinking?”

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