On our third wedding anniversary, he stayed at the hospital with his first love and only sent me a text message. “Serena’s depression relapsed. I won’t be coming home tonight.” No apology, no explanation. For three years, it had always been like this. For his first love, he trampled on my dignity again and again. She stole my aromatherapy formulas to launch her brand. She shattered my late professor’s legacy on the floor. When I asked him why, he frowned. “She needs this success to overcome her depression.” “Can’t you just behave and stop acting like a difficult woman?” My love for him had already died. I left the signed divorce agreement in the villa and flew to France. The sunlight in Provence was blinding. I picked up a male college student. He looked just like my deceased first love. His features, his outline, even the way he wore a white shirt was identical. I took him walking through the small town and kissed him right in front of Damian. Damian came chasing after me and knelt down, saying he’d get plastic surgery to look like Sebastian, begging me to stay. I laughed. “Damian, you’re not even qualified to be a substitute.”

Natalie’s POV On our third wedding anniversary, Damian stood me up. I sat in my aromatherapy boutique, staring at the French dinner on the table that had long gone cold, sitting motionless for a long time. My phone screen lit up. It was a brief message from Damian. “Serena’s depression relapsed. I’m at the hospital with her. I won’t be coming home tonight.” No apology, no explanation, just a matter-of-fact notification. I stared at those words for a few seconds, then pressed the lock button. I stood up and dumped the carefully prepared steak and red wine into the trash can without the slightest hesitation. A year ago, I might have called him in tears, demanding to know whose husband he really was, or even hysterically rushed to the hospital to try to win him back from Serena. But now, I couldn’t even be bothered to sigh. Because the death of a heart is a long and irreversible process. At two in the morning, the door lock of the villa clicked softly. Damian pushed the door open, bringing in a wave of cold air, and took off his coat that reeked of hospital disinfectant and some sickeningly sweet commercial perfume. I was familiar with that perfume smell. It was Serena’s favorite Sweet Bomb, cheap and pungent. As a professional aromatherapist, I was extremely sensitive to scents. In the past, I had fought with Damian countless times over this smell, only to be met with the man’s impatient rebuke. “Serena is sick. Can’t you stop being so unreasonable?” Now, when I smelled this scent, I only felt a wave of physical nausea rising in my stomach, but no longer had any desire to argue. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Seeing me sitting on the sofa, Damian frowned slightly, his tone carrying a hint of habitual wariness. He probably thought I was going to throw a tantrum again because he came home late. “I was waiting for you.” I stood up, walked to the table, and handed him a small bottle of sleep-aid essential oil I had just formulated. “You’ve been having serious insomnia lately. This is a new formula. Just put a few drops on your pillow.” Damian froze for a moment, clearly not expecting me to be so calm. He took the essential oil. “Serena was very emotionally unstable today. She kept holding onto my hand and wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t leave.” For once, he offered an explanation, seemingly making excuses for breaking our date. “Mm, I understand.” I responded coolly and turned toward the bedroom. “Get some rest early.” Damian stood there, gripping the bottle of oil, his frown deepening. Damian irritably tugged at his tie. Back in the bedroom, I was already lying down with my back to him. After showering, Damian lay on the other side. Between us was a distance that could fit an iceberg. He habitually applied the essential oil to his pillow. This was a scent I had custom-made exclusively for him, one of a kind in the entire world. Soothed by the fragrance, Damian quickly fell asleep. And I slowly opened my eyes in the darkness. Listening to the man’s steady breathing, I exhaled softly. I gently lifted the covers and got out of bed, walked to the study, and opened an encrypted folder at the bottom of a drawer. Inside lay a prepared Divorce Agreement. In the lower right corner, at the wife’s signature line, my name was already written neatly. There were thirty days left until I completely left. I took a deep breath and locked the drawer again. Damian, the debt I owed you for the past three years, I’ve already repaid with countless nights of companionship. From now on, we owe each other nothing.

Natalie’s POV The next morning, I prepared breakfast as usual. When Damian came downstairs, he looked more relaxed than the night before. He sat down at the dining table, picked up his coffee and took a sip, then spoke in a seemingly casual manner. “The water pipes burst in Serena’s apartment, and the landlord can’t fix them right away. She’s scared to stay in a hotel alone. It might trigger her depression. I told her she could stay in our guest room for a while.” His tone wasn’t asking. it was informing. Even as he said this, his body tensed slightly, bracing himself for my outburst. After all, no wife would accept having her husband’s “good friend” move into their home. However, I only paused in cutting the bread, looked at him for a second, then calmly nodded. “Okay, I understand. I’ll have the housekeeper prepare the guest room.” The knife and fork cutting Damian’s sausage suddenly halted, making a harsh scraping sound in the quiet dining room. He looked at me in disbelief. “You don’t mind?” Damian couldn’t help but ask, his brow furrowed tightly. I asked back: “If I minded, would you tell her not to come?” Damian choked, then said in a low voice: “Serena’s mental state is very fragile right now. As her friend, I can’t ignore her.” “So, since the result won’t change, what’s the point of me minding?” I smiled faintly. “The house has plenty of rooms. As long as she doesn’t mind.” That afternoon, Serena moved in with large and small pieces of luggage. She wore a pure white knit dress, her long hair draped softly over her shoulders, her eyes slightly red, looking pitiful and delicate. “Natalie, I’m sorry to intrude on you both.” Serena stood in the living room, nervously clutching the hem of her dress. “I promise, as soon as the apartment is fixed, I’ll move out immediately.” I watched her performance without responding. Seeing this, Damian immediately shielded Serena behind him, his tone carrying a hint of reproach. “Natalie, Serena is a guest. Show some courtesy.” How interesting. I hadn’t said anything, yet somehow my attitude was bad? “The guest room is on the second floor, first door on the left. The housekeeper has already changed the bedding.” Too lazy to deal with them, I turned to leave for my shop. “Wait!” Serena suddenly covered her nose, her brow furrowed tightly, looking very uncomfortable. “Damian, what’s that smell in this house? It’s so pungent. I’m getting dizzy and my chest feels tight…” Damian immediately supported her anxiously. “What’s wrong? Is your depression causing somatic symptoms again?” He turned to look around, his gaze landing on the diffuser operating in the corner of the living room. It was a top-grade neroli essential oil I had specially formulated to purify the air. “Natalie, get rid of all this aromatherapy nonsense!” Damian ordered sharply. “Don’t you know Serena is sensitive to scents?” I stopped in my tracks. That so-called “aromatherapy nonsense.” It came from precious raw materials I’d spent countless nights collecting from around the world. Once, Damian said he loved having this calming scent in the house. Now, because of Serena’s one word, “pungent,” it had become trash. “Fine.” I didn’t argue. I walked over and unplugged the diffuser directly. Not only that, I called the housekeeper and had all the aromatherapy equipment and essential oil bottles from the living room, hallway, and even Damian’s study packed into boxes. “What are you doing? I only said to remove the one in the living room. I didn’t tell you to take away the ones in my study too.” He said in a low voice. “Since we’re removing them, might as well do it thoroughly, so Miss Serena won’t feel dizzy from catching even a whiff.” I sealed the last box with tape. I removed the aromatherapy, and with it, the last trace of myself in this house. Damian opened his mouth to say something, but Serena timely leaned into his embrace, weakly calling out. “Damian, my head hurts so much…” Damian’s attention was instantly diverted. He immediately lifted Serena in his arms and carried her upstairs. I stood there, watching their intimate figures disappear, and couldn’t help but laugh. I took out my phone and called the real estate agent. “Mr. Wilson, my aromatherapy shop. You can put it on the market now. Yes, the sooner the better.”

Natalie’s POV A week later, the annual business gala was held at a five-star hotel in the city center. As the wife of the CEO of Harrison Group, I was supposed to accompany Damian. I wore a black evening gown with minimalist tailoring, my long hair pinned up, without any excessive embellishment. When Damian saw me, a flash of amazement crossed his eyes, but it was quickly concealed. We had just arrived at the banquet hall and hadn’t yet had a chance to greet several important business partners when a soft voice called from behind. “Damian…” I turned around to see Serena standing not far away in an extremely flamboyant pink strapless gown. Around her neck, she wore a dazzling pink diamond necklace. It was the piece Damian had purchased at auction last month for a high price. At the time, the media had widely reported that he spent so much money to give me a surprise for our anniversary. Turns out, the surprise went to Serena. “Why are you here?” Damian frowned and quickly walked over. “Didn’t I tell you to rest at home?” “Being alone at home was too stifling. I wanted to get some fresh air. A friend had an extra invitation, so I came.” Serena looked at him timidly, then glanced at me. “Natalie, you don’t mind, do you?” I didn’t spare her even a glance. “This is a public venue. What’s there for me to mind?” The gala officially began, and Damian was surrounded by a group of business tycoons offering toasts. Serena stayed close by his side the entire time, as if she were the rightful Mrs. Harrison. And Damian naturally blocked drinks for her, quietly reminding her to avoid cold beverages. Their intimate gestures drew whispers from the socialites and wealthy ladies around. “Mr. Harrison treats that Miss Serena so well. In contrast, Mrs. Harrison is left ignored.” “It’s a business marriage, after all. Where’s the real affection? She’s just a placeholder.” “I heard Mr. Harrison gave that pink diamond necklace to Miss Serena too. What a humiliating position for the wife.” These gossips floated into my ears without any attempt at discretion. In the past, I would have felt embarrassed, humiliated, even cried. But now, I simply picked up a glass of champagne and walked to the quiet terrace alone, enjoying the city’s night view. Just then, a voice with a heavy French accent spoke beside me. “Beautiful lady, you have a very special scent about you.” I turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed foreign man looking at me intently. I recognized him as the internationally renowned master perfumer, Laurent. “It’s vetiver mixed with cedar and just a touch of oud, isn’t it? This ratio is extremely bold, yet surprisingly harmonious, like a forest after a rainstorm.” Laurent didn’t hold back his praise. I smiled faintly and responded in fluent French. “You’re too kind. This is a personal fragrance I formulated myself. I call it Ashes.” “Ashes?” A flash of surprise crossed Laurent’s eyes. “A very fitting name. After everything burns away, what remains is the purest essence. Miss Natalie, your talent is astonishing. I’m currently setting up a perfume laboratory in Grasse, France. Would you be interested in joining my team?” This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, the holy grail every perfumer dreamed of. Without the slightest hesitation, I smiled and extended my hand. “I’d be delighted.” Damian suddenly strode over, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to his side, his eyes coldly sweeping over Laurent. “Sorry, my wife can’t hold her liquor. I need to take her away now.” Without regard for my struggles, he forcibly pulled me out of the banquet hall. “What are you doing? Let go!” He was gripping my wrist so hard it hurt. I snapped at him coldly. Damian shoved me against the corridor wall, hands planted on either side of me, his eyes dark. “Natalie, have you no shame? Flirting with another man on the terrace right in front of me?” I found this absurd. “We were discussing perfume, talking about work. Damian, do you think everyone is like you, with nothing but filthy thoughts in their head?” “Does talking about work require smiling so happily?” Damian said through gritted teeth. Just as we were at an impasse, a cry came from the end of the corridor. “Something’s wrong! Miss Serena has fainted!” Damian’s body stiffened. Almost reflexively, he released me and ran toward the voice. I leaned against the cold wall, watching the man’s unhesitating departure, and looked down at my reddened wrist. Damian, your possessiveness is disgustingly cheap.

Natalie’s POV Serena’s “fainting” was just a case of low blood sugar, yet Damian treated it like a crisis, not only rushing her to a private hospital overnight but also staying by her side for two whole days. I didn’t ask a single question, because I was busy handling the transfer of the aromatherapy shop. The shop had found a suitable buyer, and the price negotiations went smoothly. Today was my last time at the shop to pack my personal belongings. On the shelves were many rare essential oils and antique perfume bottles I had collected. The most precious was a small bottle of ultra-pure Bulgarian rose absolute. A legacy from my late professor. Worth a fortune. And more than that, my spiritual anchor. I carefully packed it into a shock-proof box. The wind chimes on the shop door suddenly rang. I looked up to see Serena, wearing sunglasses and a mask, walk in surrounded by a group of bodyguards. “Natalie, so you’re here.” Serena removed her sunglasses and surveyed the aromatherapy shop, a flash of undisguised jealousy in her eyes. “Can I help you?” I didn’t stop what I was doing, my tone indifferent. “Damian said he’s been having insomnia lately. I want to personally pick out a calming aromatherapy for him.” Serena walked to the shelf and casually picked up a bottle of essential oil to examine. “Natalie, you won’t mind me choosing something from your shop to give him, will you?” “Pick whatever you want. Pay at the counter when you’re done.” I didn’t even look up. Serena’s gaze scanned around the shop and finally landed on the exquisite shock-proof box beside me. “What’s this? It’s packaged so nicely, it must be something special, right?” Serena suddenly reached out and grabbed the box. “Don’t touch it!” I shouted sharply. But it was too late. Serena deliberately let it slip. “Oops,” she said, and the box crashed heavily onto the hard marble floor. The crisp sound of shattering glass was especially piercing in the quiet shop. The rich, pure scent of roses instantly permeated the air. It was my professor’s life’s work, my most treasured possession, now reduced to a sticky mess of shards on the floor. I froze in place, my mind blank for a moment. Looking at the fragments, my hands trembled uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Serena put on a panicked expression, her eyes instantly reddening. “Natalie, please don’t be angry. I’ll pay you back however much it costs…” Just then, Damian strode into the shop. As soon as he entered, he saw Serena with red-rimmed eyes standing to one side while I stared at the broken glass on the floor, the atmosphere tense. “What happened?” Damian pulled Serena into his arms, frowning. “Damian, I accidentally broke something of Natalie’s. She seems really angry…” Serena leaned into his embrace pitifully, tears falling on cue. Damian glanced at the glass shards on the floor and looked at me impatiently. “It’s just a perfume bottle. Serena didn’t do it on purpose. Do you really need to look like you want to kill someone?” I slowly raised my head, looking at this man I’d shared a bed with for three years. He didn’t even ask what she broke before rushing to take Serena’s side. “Just a perfume bottle?” I softly repeated his words. I didn’t scream hysterically, nor did I lunge at them like a shrew. I simply walked to the counter, took out an invoice, quickly wrote down a string of numbers, then walked up to Damian and slapped the invoice against his chest. “This is my professor’s rare legacy piece, with a market value of three million dollars, but to me, it’s priceless.” I said, “Since Serena says she’ll compensate, then please settle the bill for her, Mr. Harrison. Three million dollars. Not a penny less.” Damian froze. “Natalie, are you insane? How could something in this dump be worth three million? You’re extorting me!” Damian said through clenched teeth. “You can choose not to pay. I’ll call the police right now and check the security footage.” I held up my phone, unyielding. Damian looked at me, his chest heaving violently. He suddenly pulled out his checkbook, scrawled three million on it, and slammed it on the table. “Natalie, you’ve really fallen into the money pit! I was so wrong about you!” With that, he pulled Serena away and left the aromatherapy shop without looking back. I stood there, looking at the three-million-dollar check. I crouched down and picked up the glass shards soaked in essential oil with my bare hands, piece by piece. The sharp edges cut my fingers, blood mixing with the scent of roses dripping onto the floor. I didn’t cry. Because this three million was exactly enough to cover the admission fee for the Grasse laboratory. Damian, this debt between us. We’re even.

Natalie’s POV The shop transfer procedures were completed within three days. Watching the sign being taken down from the storefront, I felt little attachment. I cashed the check, transferred it to the French laboratory’s account, and booked a one-way ticket to Paris for two weeks later. Damian knew nothing about any of this. I heard he’d been busy helping Serena launch a new lifestyle brand, leaving early and returning late, rarely even coming home. Until one night, late, Damian returned to the villa. He irritably loosened his tie and pushed open the bedroom door. I was sitting at the desk, writing intently under a small lamp. Hearing the sound, I didn’t look up. Damian walked behind me, suppressing the anger in his heart, and said in a low voice. “I have a terrible headache. Go make me a bottle of that sleep-aid oil like before.” “There isn’t any.” My tone was flat, my pen never pausing. “If there isn’t any, then make some! You have all those materials in your shop. Can’t you even make one bottle of essential oil?” Damian’s tone grew heavier, carrying the commanding tone of someone in authority. I stopped writing and turned to look at him. “I’m out of materials, and the shop is closed. If Mr. Harrison is really having insomnia, you can go to the hospital for sleeping pills.” Damian froze, his brow instantly knotting into a tight frown. “The shop is closed? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?” “No need to.” I turned back and continued organizing my materials. Damian suddenly reached out and slammed my notebook shut, forcing me to look at him. “Natalie, what exactly are you throwing a tantrum about? Is it because Serena broke your thing, or because I haven’t been spending time with you? You weren’t like this before. Why have you become so unreasonable?” “Unreasonable?” I laughed lightly. “Damian, in your eyes, as long as I don’t go along with what you and Serena want, I’m being unreasonable, right?” He took a deep breath, trying to soften his tone. “Fine, I won’t argue with you. Serena’s brand is launching next week, but the signature fragrance she’s been working on isn’t quite right. You’re a professional. Tomorrow, bring out your formula book and help her adjust it. Consider it a favor to me.” I looked at him, feeling like I was watching an utterly absurd joke. He actually wanted me to hand over my life’s work to the woman who destroyed my professor’s legacy? “Impossible.” I refused flatly. “Natalie!” Damian’s patience completely ran out. “Can you stop being so selfish? Serena’s depression is just starting to improve. This brand is very important to her! You’re just sharing one formula. What’s the big deal?” “Since it’s no big deal, let her formulate it herself.” I stood up, looking directly into his angry eyes. “Damian, I’d rather destroy my work, throw it away, than let Serena use even a drop of it.” Damian laughed bitterly, his eyes cold. “Fine, very good. Natalie, don’t forget. When you opened that shabby shop, Harrison Group invested money too. If you won’t help, I’ll immediately withdraw the investment and make sure your shop can never open in this city again!” He thought this threat would be enough to make me comply. After all, that was my life’s work. I just looked at him calmly and smiled. “Do whatever you want.” After saying that, I walked past him straight into the bathroom. Damian stood frozen in place, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. What he didn’t know was that the shop no longer belonged to me. The leverage he used to threaten me was nothing but a ridiculous empty shell.

Natalie’s POV A week later, Serena’s personal lifestyle brand “Serena’s Time” held a grand launch event at the city’s most luxurious hotel. Not only did Damian personally appear in support, but he also mobilized all of Harrison Group’s PR resources to promote it for her. The core highlight of the launch was a custom fragrance called “First Love.” When the big screen displayed the composition and the top, heart, and base notes of this fragrance, I clenched my fists. Cedar, white tea, mixed with an extremely minute amount of bitter orange leaf. This was the competition piece I had spent half a year preparing for the International Perfumery Competition. “Rebirth.” The formula ratios were precise to the milligram. Besides myself, only one other person could have accessed my formula book. I stood up, pushed through the crowd, and walked straight to the VIP lounge backstage. The moment I opened the door, Damian was bent down adjusting Serena’s dress, the two looking at each other with smiles, a painfully warm scene. Hearing the noise, Damian looked up and saw me standing in the doorway, his brow instinctively furrowing. “What are you doing here?” I ignored him, walked straight to the table, picked up the bottle of “First Love” fragrance being used as a display piece, and looked at Serena. “Where did you steal this formula from?” Serena’s face went pale. She immediately hid behind Damian, her voice trembling. “Natalie, what are you saying? I formulated this myself…” “You formulated it yourself?” I pressed forward step by step. “What’s the extraction temperature for bitter orange leaf? What’s the fusion ratio of white tea and cedar? Can you tell me?” “Enough!” Damian pushed me away and shielded the swaying Serena, shouting sharply. “Natalie, are you done with your madness!” I was pushed back two steps, my waist hitting the edge of the table, a sharp pain shooting through me. I stared straight at Damian. “You gave it to her, didn’t you? You went through my formula book.” Damian’s eyes flickered, but he quickly regained his cold, righteous composure. “So what if I did?” He admitted it, his tone even carrying a trace of condescending arrogance. “Serena’s brand urgently needs a blockbuster product to break into the market. Your formula was perfect for it. You’re so talented. You can just formulate another one for the competition. But Serena can’t. She needs this success to build confidence and overcome her depression.” A roar echoed in my ears. My world completely collapsed. The man before me was terrifyingly unfamiliar. In Damian’s eyes, my life’s work, my dreams, all those sleepless nights. They meant nothing next to Serena’s so-called “confidence.” My talent had become a cheap gift he used to please another woman. “Damian, that was my competition entry,” I said softly. “In the perfumery world, stealing someone’s formula can ruin your career.” “As long as you don’t say anything, no one will know.” Damian adjusted his cuffs dismissively. “As compensation, Harrison Group will transfer five million to your account. This matter ends here.” Five million. He bought out my life’s work, and with it, the last shred of my feelings for him. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just quietly looked at Damian, for a long time. “Fine.” I nodded gently. I carefully placed the fragrance bottle on the table and turned toward the door. As my hand gripped the doorknob, I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Damian, the formula is yours to give. I wish you both eternal happiness.” The door closed softly. There were three days left until I left. The atmosphere in the villa became eerily quiet. I sat on the living room carpet, organizing several small cardboard boxes. “What are you packing?” Damian walked over. “Some old things I don’t need anymore. I’m planning to donate them.” I didn’t even look up, placing some old books into a box. Damian didn’t think much of it. He sat down beside me, pulled out a velvet jewelry box from his pocket, and placed it in front of me. “Open it and see.” His tone carried a hint of expectation. I stopped what I was doing and looked at the ring inside the box, sparkling with brilliant light from a pink diamond. Very beautiful, very expensive. But I only found it ironic. He shattered my life’s work, trampled on my dignity, then tried to buy me off with a stone. This was Damian’s love. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.” I didn’t refuse. I took the jewelry box and casually placed it on the table beside me without trying it on. Damian’s brow furrowed. He was getting irritated. “You don’t like it?” “I like it.” I gave a perfunctory response and continued organizing the box. Damian grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him, trying to kiss my lips. “Natalie, it’s been so long since we…” His voice was low and husky, carrying a hint of suggestion. I turned my head away, avoiding his touch. “I’m very tired today. I don’t want to.” My rejection was undisguised.Damian’s hand froze in mid-air, his expression instantly darkening. He stared at me for a long moment, then finally let out a cold laugh and stood up. “Fine, I won’t force you. Tomorrow is your birthday. I’ve reserved a table at the rooftop restaurant. Seven o’clock in the evening. Don’t be late.” With that, he turned and strode upstairs, his back radiating suppressed anger. I watched him go, my gaze returning to the cardboard box filled with “old items.” Inside wasn’t old books at all, but everything Damian had given me over the past three years. Including the wedding album that had been flipped through countless times. I tossed the pink diamond jewelry box in as well and sealed it with tape. Tomorrow was my birthday, and also the day I flew to Paris. Damian, you’re destined to wait in vain for this birthday dinner. The next day, at the international airport departure hall. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at my phone screen. I calmly powered it off, removed the SIM card, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. “Attention passengers traveling to Paris, flight AF112 is now boarding…” A gentle female voice came through the speakers. I stood up and pulled my single small suitcase. Without looking back at this city I’d lived in for three years, I strode toward the boarding gate.

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“Natalie, this is the last viable embryo. Without Mr. Sterling’s signature, we cannot proceed with the transfer.” I clutched my phone. The screen showed I’d called him 99 times. No response to any of them. But on TV, Adrian Sterling was in Switzerland rescuing his first love. He held that woman in his arms. “I love you. Even if it costs me these hands, I’m willing to save you.” He’d forgotten. Today was our last chance to become parents. Ninety-nine hormone injections, three years of torture, wounds covering my body. I’d shouldered the family shame of his infertility for him, yet there he was on a cliff’s edge, making passionate declarations to his mistress. Later, when I hemorrhaged from my uterus, he kicked me in the knee and cursed me as vile. “Did you miscarry because you were carrying some bastard’s child?” Love turned to hate. I came to despise Adrian. Two years after I faked my death and escaped, Adrian tracked me down. I pointed to the man beside me and smiled: “Adrian , let me introduce you. This is my husband.”

Natalie POV The private hospital’s air conditioning ran at full blast. The instant the needle pierced my skin, I felt no pain. This was my ninety-ninth ovarian stimulation injection. “Natalie, this is the last viable embryo we have.” The doctor looked at my abdomen, covered in bruises, with sympathy in her eyes. “Is Mr. Sterling still not coming to sign today? Without your spouse present to sign, we cannot transfer this embryo for you.” I lowered my lashes, my fingertips gripping the phone turning an unnatural pale color. On the screen, I’d sent Adrian thirty-six messages and made over a dozen calls. Without exception, all had gone unanswered. “He’s… busy.” I forced out a smile uglier than crying. “Doctor, can we wait a bit longer? He promised he’d definitely come today.” The doctor sighed, about to speak, when the LCD TV on the wall suddenly interrupted with breaking international news. “A major avalanche struck a canyon in Switzerland. Our country’s renowned extreme rock climber Adrian Sterling, three hours ago, free-soloed a sheer cliff face without protection to successfully rescue his former partner, Sophie Lane…” On screen, wind and snow raged. The man I’d been waiting for an entire day and night wore a thin windbreaker, clutching a woman tightly in his arms. His hands, those hands he took such pride in, those hands insured for hundreds of millions, now gripped the rock face. Blood dripped from between his fingers onto the snow, a shocking sight. When the reporter thrust the microphone toward him, Adrian gasped for breath, but his eyes held a fervor and relief I’d never seen before. “As long as she’s safe, I’d be willing even if it cost me these hands.” I stared at the screen, my heart seized by an invisible hand, each breath tasting of blood. He’d sacrifice his hands. Yet he knew full well that today was the most important day of my life. Adrian had azoospermia. Three years ago when we got the diagnosis, this prideful rock climbing genius locked himself in a dark room for an entire week. I was the one who stayed with him, kissing his trembling spine over and over, telling him. “It’s okay if we don’t have children. I only need you.” But Adrian’s soul was too proud. He felt he’d wronged me, even suggested divorce. To soothe his ego, I volunteered to do IVF. Punctures, egg retrievals, failures, trying again. Over three years, I’d put myself through hell, forcing out this one last successfully matched embryo from his body that had been practically sentenced to death. Last night, he’d held me, kissing the needle marks on my abdomen, his voice tender enough to drip water. “Nat, tomorrow I’ll be there with you. We’ll bring our baby home.” But now, he was in Switzerland, holding another woman. Sophie. The first love who’d pursued Adrian for seven years, who once broke her leg saving him. “Natalie?” The doctor called out tentatively. I closed my eyes as tears finally fell onto my hand. I took a deep breath, my voice terribly hoarse. “Never mind. This embryo… destroy it.” “Are you certain? This is your last chance.” “I’m certain.” I stood, didn’t spare the TV screen another glance, and walked out of the examination room. The sunlight outside was blinding. Standing on a New York street, I suddenly felt cold. I remembered five years ago, when Adrian was pursuing me, he carved my name with pitons into a snow-covered mountain at 16,000 feet elevation. He said. “Natalie, I’ve entrusted my life to the mountains, but my heart will forever hang from your carabiner.” However earth-shattering his devotion once was, that’s how heartbreaking his betrayal felt now. I’d endured three years of physical torture for him, while he’d risk his very life for Sophie. My phone suddenly vibrated. A message from Adrian, just one cold sentence. “Emergency situation in Switzerland. Postponing the transfer procedure. We’ll proceed when I get back.” Postpone? He didn’t even ask if today’s injection hurt, didn’t offer a single explanation. Just casually pronounced a death sentence on the procedure. I stared at those words for a long time, my fingers trembling as I typed a reply. “No need to postpone, Adrian. We’re done.” Message failed to send. He’d blocked my messages. I suddenly laughed, laughed until tears came. How absurd. I was here in agony while he found even my messages annoying.

Natalie POV Adrian returned three days later. Not only did he return, he brought Sophie back to our New York townhouse. I was sitting on the living room carpet sorting through discarded hormone medication boxes when the door opened. A wave of Sophie’s signature cold cedarwood perfume aggressively invaded my nostrils. “Nat, I’m home.” Adrian’s voice carried exhaustion. He strode over, habitually moving to kiss my forehead. I turned my head away, dodging. Adrian’s movement froze mid-air, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. He glanced at the medication boxes scattered across the floor, his tone taking on a hint of impatience. “Didn’t I say the transfer was postponed? What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” “Throwing a tantrum?” I looked up at him. The man before me was still handsome, though his eyes now held an edge of irritation toward me. Behind him, Sophie sat in a wheelchair, face pale and pitiable. “Adrian, am I disturbing you two?” Sophie bit her lower lip, her voice light as a feather. “Maybe I should stay at a hotel instead. Natalie doesn’t seem to welcome me.” “Your leg’s injured, there’s no need for a hotel.” Adrian immediately turned, his tone gentle in a way completely different from moments ago. “The doctor said you need rest. This environment is best for you.” Then he turned to look at me, his tone nearly commanding. “Nat, Sophie got injured saving me in Switzerland. She has severe high-altitude sickness aftereffects and needs to stay in the room with the best ventilation. Clear out the second-floor master bedroom and move to the guest room for a few days.” I looked at him in disbelief. The second-floor master bedroom was the one Adrian personally designed when we got married. It had an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows and an indoor climbing wall he’d built for me himself. He once pressed me against that wall, kissing my earlobe as he said. “Nat, this is our absolute domain. No one can set foot here.” Now, he wanted me to give it up to Sophie. “What if I refuse?” My voice was soft but carried the finality of death. Adrian’s expression darkened. “Natalie, since when did you become so unreasonable? Sophie got injured because of me. She’s a patient! Can you stop taking out whatever grievances you suffered at the hospital on her?” Whatever grievances. I felt my heart being sawed back and forth with a dull knife. The torture of ninety-nine injections, countless days and nights of hope, my last chance to become a mother. In his eyes, just “whatever grievances.” “Adrian, have you forgotten that three days ago was my last embryo transfer appointment?” I stared at him, eyes red. “Do you know that because you didn’t show up, that embryo has been destroyed?” Adrian froze, a flash of panic in his eyes, quickly masked by irritation. “If it’s destroyed, it’s destroyed. We can just do it again later.” He tugged at his tie, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’m standing right here in front of you, aren’t I? Lost embryos can be replaced. If Sophie had fallen off that cliff, she’d be dead!” I found it utterly absurd. Do it again later? Did he think this was grocery shopping? Did he know how severely my ovaries had deteriorated from excessive stimulation? “Adrian, don’t blame Natalie.” Sophie timely grabbed Adrian’s sleeve, tears uncontrollably falling. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have come back. I understand she wanting a child to secure her position, especially since… since your condition is special.” That sentence precisely hit Adrian’s sorest spot. Azoospermia was the greatest shame of his life. Adrian’s gaze instantly turned ice cold. Looking at me, he spoke with cruel words. “Natalie, must you push me at a time like this? Do you want a child because you love me, or are you afraid I’ll leave you if I don’t have children, so you’re desperate to create leverage to bind me?” I felt thunderstruck. Looking at this man I’d loved for five years, I only felt he’d become terrifyingly unfamiliar. I’d swallowed all my pain to protect his dignity, only to receive such vicious suspicions in return. “Fine, I’ll move out of the master bedroom.” I closed my eyes, swallowing the taste of blood in my throat. “Adrian, don’t you dare regret this.”

Natalie POV I moved to the cold guest room. New York autumns were bone-chillingly cold. The guest room’s heating was broken. I curled up under thin blankets, sharp pains radiating from my lower abdomen. These were side effects from the ovulation drugs, combined with hormonal withdrawal after the embryo destruction. I started hemorrhaging heavily. Blood stained the sheets. The pain left me drenched in cold sweat, without even the strength to reach for my phone. Outside the door came Sophie’s delicate laughter, mixed with Adrian’s low, indulgent voice. “Adrian, this carabiner is so beautiful. It even has letters engraved on it.” “That was something I casually carved ages ago. If you like it, it’s yours.” I bit my lip until I tasted rust. That carabiner was made of pure titanium, custom-made for me the year Adrian won the world championship. Our initials were engraved on it. He said it was proof that he’d entrusted his life to me. Now, he’d casually given it to Sophie. The severe pain began blurring my consciousness. I struggled to crawl out of bed, wanting to find painkillers in the living room. Just as I pushed open the door, I saw Adrian half-kneeling on the floor, holding Sophie’s ankle, carefully applying ice to it. Hearing the noise, Adrian turned his head. Seeing my ashen face and the bloodstains on the hem of my nightgown, his pupils constricted sharply. He stood abruptly. “What happened to you?” I leaned against the doorframe, lacking even the strength to speak. But Sophie cried out, covering her mouth. “Oh my God, Natalie, you… you didn’t have a miscarriage, did you? But Adrian is…” She deliberately left the sentence half-finished, her eyes full of malicious insinuation. Adrian’s face instantly turned iron-gray. He strode over, grabbing my wrist with force nearly crushing my bones. “Natalie, what’s with the blood? What have you been doing behind my back?!” A man with azoospermia, seeing his wife bleeding from below. His first reaction would always be suspicion. The pain made me gasp. Looking at Adrian’s eyes full of doubt and rage, my heart completely died. “What do you think I’ve been doing?” I laughed weakly, my eyes full of mockery. “Adrian, do you think that to have a child, I went and found some random man?” “What else?!” Adrian’s eyes were bloodshot, like an enraged beast. “I can’t have children! Unless you’re telling me you’re on your period?!” He shouted loud enough for even the servants in the living room to hear clearly. To humiliate me, he didn’t even hesitate to publicly expose his own condition. I felt so tired, too tired to even desire explaining. “Yes, I found someone else.” I looked at him, speaking in despair. “Because you’re worthless, Adrian. Not only is your body worthless, your heart has rotted too.” Crack! Adrian slammed his palm against the wall beside me, his knuckles instantly bloody. He stared at me intently, chest heaving violently. “Natalie, you disgust me. You claim to love me, but you actually despise me! All that IVF was just to satisfy your vanity as Mrs. Sterling!” He released his grip abruptly, flinging me aside like discarded trash. I lost my balance, falling hard to the floor. The cramping in my lower abdomen instantly intensified as another warm flow gushed out. “Adrian, don’t be like this. Natalie might just have hormonal imbalance…” Sophie rolled her wheelchair over with false concern, looking down at me on the floor. “Leave her alone!” Adrian coldly glanced at the blood on the floor, his eyes devoid of any compassion. “Since she wants a child so badly, let her lie here in pain until she dies!” With that, he pushed Sophie’s wheelchair and left the townhouse without looking back. The front door slammed shut with a bang. I curled up on the cold floor, staring at that glaring pool of blood, tears silently falling. Adrian, you’ll never know that this pool of blood represents the last drop of blood I shed for loving you.

Natalie POV I spent an entire week in the hospital. Severe ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, combined with internal bleeding from extreme emotional distress. I nearly died in that hospital. During that entire week, Adrian never appeared once. On discharge day, I took a cab back to the townhouse alone. As soon as I entered, I heard cheering from the second floor. I dragged my weakened body upstairs and pushed open the master bedroom door. On the indoor climbing wall that once belonged to me, Sophie wore my favorite custom climbing outfit, my titanium carabiner with our initials hanging from her waist, struggling to climb upward under Adrian’s protection. “Adrian, I’m scared!” Sophie called out sweetly. “Don’t be afraid. I’m down here holding the belay rope. You’re absolutely safe.” Adrian looked up, hands gripping the safety rope tightly, his gaze focused and tender. This scene pierced my eyes. This wall was built by Adrian for me. He said that because I was afraid of heights, he wanted to build the safest wall at home so I could overcome my fear under his protection, step by step. But now, he was protecting another woman. “What are you doing?” My voice wasn’t loud, but in the empty room it seemed particularly jarring. Adrian’s hands paused. Turning to see me, his brow immediately furrowed. “You’re discharged? Why didn’t you say something in advance?” His tone was bland, as if I’d merely gone on vacation rather than nearly died. Seeing me, Sophie deliberately slipped, screaming as she fell from the wall. “Sophie!” Adrian’s expression changed drastically. He quickly tightened the belay rope, catching Sophie securely in his arms. “Adrian, I was so scared…” Sophie clung tightly to Adrian’s neck, looking at me through tears. “I’m sorry. I just saw this wall hadn’t been used in so long and wanted to try it. Please don’t be angry with Adrian.” I looked at the carabiner on Sophie’s waist and said coldly. “Take off my things.” Sophie shrank back, burrowing deeper into Adrian’s embrace. Adrian protectively held Sophie, his eyes sharp as he looked at me. “Natalie, haven’t you made enough of a scene? Sophie’s just borrowing your equipment. Do you have to be this petty?” “I’m petty?” I pointed at the carabiner, my finger trembling slightly. “Adrian, do you know what that clip means to me? That was your promise to me!” “Promise?” Adrian laughed coldly, as if hearing the world’s greatest joke. “Natalie, you want to talk to me about promises now? When you were bleeding all over the floor behind my back, why didn’t you think about your promises to me?” He still suspected me. I took a deep breath, suppressing the pain in my heart. “I’ll say it one more time. Return my things.” I walked forward, reaching to unfasten the carabiner from Sophie’s waist. “What are you doing!” Adrian shoved me away. Already weak, his push sent my back crashing hard against the solid rock wall. The pain made my vision go dark. Adrian looked down at me condescendingly, his eyes full of disgust. “Natalie, your emotions are too unstable right now. You’re acting like a lunatic. This carabiner would be wasted on you. Sophie’s doing rehabilitation training now. She needs it more than you.” He personally unfastened the carabiner engraved with our names and, right in front of me, rehung it on Sophie’s waist. “From today on, this wall belongs to Sophie. If you’re dissatisfied, get back to your guest room.” I leaned against the wall, watching Adrian’s back as he protectively escorted Sophie away, suddenly feeling this wall was as cold as ice. I once thought Adrian was the safest rope in my world. But it turned out, when he wanted to leave, I didn’t even have the right to be shattered.

Natalie POV Deep autumn in Los Angeles, the ocean breeze carried bone-chilling cold. The annual top-tier charity gala was held at a hotel in Beverly Hills. Adrian forcibly brought me along to dispel rumors about our marriage falling apart. I wore a black high-necked evening gown to hide the bruises on my neck from IV injections. My face was pale, like a soulless puppet, letting Adrian hold my hand as we walked the red carpet. Camera flashes fired frantically. “Mr. Sterling, we heard you nearly died in Switzerland saving Miss Lane. What does Mrs. Sterling think about this?” “Mrs. Sterling, rumors say you haven’t gotten pregnant in five years of marriage because of Mr. Sterling’s physical condition. Is this true?” The reporters’ questions were like poisoned knives, each one extremely sharp. Adrian’s expression instantly darkened. His grip on my hand tightened sharply, squeezing my knuckles in warning. The pain made me frown, but I lacked even the strength to struggle. Just then, a commotion erupted from behind the crowd. “Miss Lane has fainted!” Adrian’s whole body jolted. Almost reflexively, he released my hand. Wearing four-inch heels, his forceful motion made me stumble several steps, nearly falling on the red carpet. But Adrian didn’t even glance at me, pushing through the crowd and rushing toward the back like a madman. On the red carpet, only I remained, standing alone surrounded by countless cameras. Whispers surged around me like a tide. “See? She’s Adrian’s wife, but she still can’t compare to his first love.” “I heard she goes to the hospital every day trying to have a baby, completely exhausting herself. If I were Mr. Sterling, I’d choose Sophie too.” “A woman who can’t have children still occupying the position of Mrs. Sterling. How embarrassing.” Those socialites and wealthy women covered their mouths with fans, their eyes full of undisguised mockery and contempt. I stood in place, nails digging deep into my palms. I didn’t cry, just felt cold. A cold seeping from the marrow of my bones. After the gala officially began, Adrian returned with Sophie. Sophie had changed into a dazzling red gown, holding Adrian’s arm as if she were the evening’s protagonist. The charity auction segment. A painting appeared on the big screen. A snow-capped mountain with a pair of embracing lovers at its peak. This was painted five years ago by a local artist after Adrian and I were rescued from a mountain emergency. An anonymous buyer later purchased it. I never expected to see it here. “Starting bid, one million.” The auctioneer’s gavel fell. I raised my paddle. “Two million.” This was the last clean memory between Adrian and me. I wanted to buy it, then burn it with my own hands. “Three million.” A sweet voice rang out. I turned to see Sophie leaning against Adrian, smiling as she held up her paddle. “Adrian, this painting is so beautiful. I want to hang it on the master bedroom wall.” Sophie spoke coquettishly. Adrian affectionately stroked her hair. “If you like it, buy it.” My fingers trembled slightly as I raised my paddle again. “Five million.” “Ten million.” Adrian didn’t even lift his eyelids, directly bidding for Sophie. The entire room erupted. Everyone looked at me with eyes watching a show. A husband publicly suppressing his own wife at an auction for another woman. This was the ultimate humiliation. I stared intently at Adrian. “Adrian, that’s my painting.” “Your painting?” Adrian laughed coldly, his eyes full of disdain. “Natalie, get it straight. Every dollar you’re spending right now is mine. I’ll spend my money on whoever I want.” He turned to the auctioneer. “Twenty million. This painting is mine.” The gavel fell. This painting no longer belonged to me. Sophie smugly raised her eyebrow at me, then covered her head and leaned on Adrian’s shoulder. “Adrian, I’m so dizzy. It’s too stuffy inside.” “I’ll take you back.” Adrian immediately stood, carefully protecting Sophie as they walked out. Passing by me, he paused, using a voice only the two of us could hear. “Natalie, stop embarrassing me. When the gala ends, get yourself back to New York.” With that, he escorted Sophie away, never looking back. I sat in my seat, watching their departing backs, suddenly laughing out loud. I laughed until tears fell. Under the stares of people looking at a madwoman, I picked up a glass of red wine from the table and drained it in one gulp. Adrian, you won’t even leave me the last bit of memory. Fine. Just fine.

Natalie POV I returned to the New York townhouse in the rain. On the way back to New York, I was like a puppet without a soul. Pushing open the townhouse door, the living room was in chaos. The locked box I’d left on the table had been forcibly pried open. That was where I stored all my IVF documentation and medical records. Now, those consent forms, stimulation records, and embryo cultivation reports that carried three years of my suffering were torn to shreds, scattered across the floor like snow. Sophie sat on the sofa, holding scissors, slowly cutting up an ultrasound report. “Oh my, Natalie is back.” Sophie looked up, her smile innocent yet vicious. “I’m so sorry. I was looking for something earlier and accidentally knocked over your box. These waste papers looked rather unsightly, so I took the liberty of disposing of them for you.” All the blood in my body instantly rushed to my head. I lunged forward, snatching the scissors from Sophie’s hand, pointing at her with bloodshot eyes. “Do you have a death wish?!” “Ahh! Help!” Sophie screamed, toppling from her wheelchair to the floor, a shallow cut from the scissors appearing on the back of her hand. The front door opened at precisely that moment. Adrian stormed in. Seeing this scene, his eyes nearly split with rage. “Natalie! Have you lost your mind!” He charged forward violently, kicking me in the knee. Already weakened, his kick sent me heavily to my knees on those shredded papers. Broken glass shards pierced my kneecap, blood instantly seeping out. Adrian tenderly lifted Sophie from the floor, looking at the cut on her hand, then turned to roar at me. “Are you sick?! How did Sophie offend you that you’d try to kill her with scissors?!” I knelt on the floor, looking at the shredded papers everywhere. This was proof that for him, I’d endured ninety-nine needle punctures. Now, all of it had become “waste paper” in his eyes. “She tore up my medical records.” My voice was eerily calm, calm in a frightening way. “Adrian, she destroyed all the records from three years of IVF treatments I did for you.” Adrian froze, glancing at the shredded papers on the floor, a flash of embarrassment crossing his eyes. But his expression quickly hardened again. “If they’re torn, they’re torn! What’s the point of keeping those things? To remind me you’re a waste who couldn’t even protect a child?!” Those words were like a rusty knife, viciously stabbing into my heart and twisting violently. Looking at Adrian, I suddenly felt the man before me was as unfamiliar as a monster. “Adrian.” I slowly stood, blood from my knee flowing down my calf, leaving shocking red traces on the carpet. I walked to a nearby cabinet, took out a document I’d prepared long ago, and threw it at Adrian’s feet. “Let’s get divorced.” The document clearly read “Divorce Agreement.” Adrian’s pupils constricted sharply. He stared intently at that agreement. “Divorce?” Adrian laughed coldly, tearing the agreement to shreds right in front of me. “Natalie, what game are you playing now to win me back? You want to divorce me over some torn papers?” “Don’t forget. You were the one who insisted on marrying me! You want to leave now? I don’t allow it!” He pointed at Sophie, speaking with self-righteous indignation. “Sophie saved my life on K2! I owe her a debt I can never repay in this lifetime! As my wife, what’s wrong with you suffering a little? Why can’t you be more magnanimous?!” Looking at his furious face, I suddenly felt unbearably sad. “You owe her a life, so you’ll use mine to repay it?” I pulled at the corner of my mouth, my eyes lifeless. “Adrian, I don’t owe you two anything. These five years, I’ve given you everything I could. Now, I want nothing anymore.” I turned toward the stairs, my figure resolute. Adrian suddenly roared. “Natalie! If you dare walk out that door today, don’t ever come back!” My steps didn’t pause. Never come back? That suits me perfectly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “407139”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My friend Lily sent me a photo. It was a screenshot of my husband checking into a love hotel in the city. She sent me a message teasing: “You and your husband sure know how to have fun. Going to a love hotel while pregnant? Be careful!” I stared at my phone blankly for a moment, then casually opened the SnapChat message my husband had sent me half an hour ago: [I have to go to New York on a business trip for a few days. Go to tomorrow’s prenatal checkup by yourself.] So I replied to Lily seriously: “The one getting a room with him is his mistress, not me.” Lily’s call came through quickly. “Are you sure? I’ll send you the location. Come over now. I have a room card.” I said no need. She sounded anxious: “Why aren’t you reacting at all?” I thought for a moment and said, “Help me send them something. Wish them a good time.” There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then she agreed. After hanging up, I canceled my prenatal checkup appointment and confirmed the time for the abortion procedure. After finishing these tasks, I walked into the nursery. That room had been gradually cleared out after confirming the pregnancy. There wasn’t much, but everything was new. Ethan Wade had said the child was very important to him. At the time, he said it with such certainty. I had believed him once. I grabbed scissors and trash bags and began cutting up the brand-new clothes. When I made the first cut, I knew exactly what I was doing. I wouldn’t be needing these things anymore. The clothes, books, bottles—everything was quickly dealt with. I also pushed the baby stroller to the door and knocked it over. Half an hour later, the room was empty. I made several trips carrying everything down to the building’s trash station and threw it all away without hesitation. At ten o’clock that night, the door lock clicked. Ethan Wade had come home. He said he was out of town, but he’d suddenly changed his plans and come back. He saw me sitting in the living room, lifted his hand to glance at his watch, and frowned slightly: “Why aren’t you asleep yet at this hour? Your irregular sleep schedule will directly affect the fetus’s nervous system development. I shouldn’t have to teach you this basic knowledge, should I?” As he approached, I smelled a scent that didn’t belong to this house. It was some niche salon perfume mixed with the sickly sweetness of hotel body wash. I shifted to the side: “You smell different.” His hand paused while loosening his tie, then he tossed his jacket onto the sofa without changing expression: “That’s air freshener from a client’s car. Don’t be paranoid.” While unfastening his cufflinks, he walked straight toward the nursery: “By the way, did the custom baby bed I ordered arrive? Let me check the dimensions.” A few seconds later, his footsteps stopped abruptly. Dead silence. “Claire Smith.” His voice came from the nursery, carrying a cold edge. I walked over and saw him standing in the center of the room, his face dark enough to drip water. “Where are the things?” He turned around, glaring at me with a black expression. “Where’s the stroller I ordered and all the baby clothes I bought?” “I got rid of them,” I answered calmly. He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to me. “Who gave you permission to get rid of them?” His tone was angry. “Are you so bored staying home all day that you have to cause trouble? You know how hard I work to support this family. Can’t you just give me less grief?” “The doctor suggested I shouldn’t prepare these things too early in the first trimester.” I looked him straight in the eye without changing expression. “I’d have anxiety reactions that could easily trigger false contractions.” “Anxiety?” Ethan Wade laughed coldly. “Claire, I think you’re too idle. Your hormones are out of balance and making you irrational.” “Other people are happy when they’re pregnant. Why do you have so many pretentious problems? You get anxious seeing baby things? Are you sick? Should you get treatment?” His fingers were ice cold, pinching me painfully. But I didn’t dodge. I just looked at him woodenly: “Better safe than sorry.” He frowned, seeming suspicious that my attitude was somehow different. Probably because he saw me calm down, or perhaps because he had a guilty conscience. In the end, he just dropped a line: “I’ll have someone buy everything again tomorrow. If you dare throw it away again, go see a psychiatrist.” After speaking, he didn’t look at me again and turned into the bathroom. Soon, the sound of rushing water came from inside. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out. On the screen was a confirmation text from the hospital. [Ms. Smith, your appointment for pre-abortion examination has been confirmed.] I glanced at the tightly closed bathroom door, listening to the sound of water inside, and silently deleted the message.

The next day, Ethan Wade gave me a gift. He shoved the gift into my arms, his tone gentle: “I had a bad attitude last night, but I bought you some skincare products suitable for pregnant women.” I glanced at the bag. The opening was wrinkled, and the seal sticker had one corner peeling up. When I poured it out, there were several delicate little bottles, one of which had “NOT FOR SALE” printed on the bottom. This bag was clearly just the sample gift pack the salesgirl gives when you buy the full-size products. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” Ethan Wade didn’t notice my reaction and kept talking: “I heard it works really well. Do you like it?” I lifted my head and smiled silently. “I like it.” I picked up the bottle marked “not for sale” and shook it in my hand: “I’ll use it well.” Ethan Wade breathed a sigh of relief, his face breaking into a smile again. He raised his hand to check his watch: “I have an early meeting today. Rest well at home.” He grabbed his jacket and left humming a tune. The smile on my face vanished instantly. I picked up the paper bag and threw it in the trash. After disposing of the garbage, I took a cab to the hospital. Because I had an appointment, the gynecology outpatient process went quickly. The doctor wrote me a prescription and told me to get an ultrasound to confirm the fetus’s size and position. I took the form and walked toward the ultrasound room. My phone suddenly vibrated. It was a SnapChat message from Ethan Wade. [I have a dinner meeting tonight. Won’t be home for dinner.] I had just put my phone back in my pocket when the door to the gynecology consultation room ahead opened. A familiar figure walked out—it was actually Sophia Reynolds and her best friend Morgan Clark. I deliberately turned my head away. They didn’t see me. Sophia Reynolds held a lab slip in her hand, radiating barely concealed smugness: “It’s just a routine checkup. Why are you so nervous…” Morgan Clark said enviously: “How can I not be nervous? Everyone knows Ethan Wade treasures you like the apple of his eye. Last time you just casually mentioned wanting to see the ocean, and Ethan Wade took you to the Maldives.” “When you had menstrual cramps, Ethan Wade pushed back an important meeting and spent the whole afternoon with you. That kind of treatment—even the legitimate wife probably doesn’t get it, right?” “And, and—Ethan Wade buys you luxury skincare products but gives Claire the free sample gift pack.” “He bought you that limited edition bag without a second thought.” Sophia Reynolds laughed lightly: “For some women, as long as their husband tosses them scraps from the table, they can convince themselves it’s some grand romantic gesture.” Morgan Clark laughed so hard she doubled over: “If I were her, I’d be so ashamed I’d jump off a building.” “That’s why people need self-awareness. What’s the use of holding onto a title? She’s living like more of a joke than something respectable.” I felt a chill shoot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head. Nausea overwhelmed anger. The lab slip in my hand was crushed into a ball, my nails digging deep into my palm. Only when the stabbing pain came did it barely pull back my nearly collapsing rationality. I took a deep breath, but couldn’t stop my trembling fingers. After watching them leave, I finally calmed down and turned toward the elevator in the opposite direction. Then I opened my phone and checked yesterday’s shipping information: [Your documents sent to the law firm have been signed for.]

The doctor prescribed pre-surgery medication and told me to rest well these days and wait for the surgery schedule. Back home, to distract myself, I went into the long-unused baking room. Before marriage, I had owned a dessert shop. After marriage, Ethan Wade hoped I could focus more energy on the family, so he had me close the shop and concentrate on preparing for pregnancy. I took out a bag of flour and began making desserts. The humming of the machine filled the space, and that familiar milky fragrance let me relax briefly. Two hours later, a half-finished frosted cake sat on the turntable. I was about to mix colors when there was suddenly movement at the entrance. Ethan Wade had returned, followed by two men in suits who looked like important business partners. While unbuttoning his suit jacket, Ethan Wade spoke in a gentle tone: “My home is quieter, suitable for discussing business.” I hadn’t had time to wash my hands yet. My apron was covered in flour, and I stood there somewhat disheveled. Our eyes met. The expression on Ethan Wade’s face instantly disappeared. His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze sweeping over my flour-covered apron and the half-finished cake. His words carried barbs: “How did you end up like this?” “I didn’t know you were bringing people home,” I instinctively hid my flour-covered hands behind my back. “Don’t you have any awareness?” His brow furrowed tightly, his tone full of impatience. “When you see guests, your first reaction should be to make yourself scarce, not stand here being an eyesore.” The two guests awkwardly tried to smooth things over: “It’s fine, it’s fine. Claire is so virtuous, even making cakes.” Ethan Wade didn’t respond. He couldn’t even spare me a perfunctory smile. He looked at me with cold eyes: “Have the housekeeper clean this up, then go back to your room so you don’t irritate me.” My heart felt like something had squeezed it hard, sending waves of dense pain. I bit my lip and turned to get the trash can. “Wait.” He stopped me, pointing at the cake. “Take that too.” “I just made this…” “Take it or throw it away.” He interrupted me, his tone cold. “Don’t leave it here embarrassing me.” I took a deep breath, my nails digging deep into my palm, using the pain to suppress the stinging in my eyes. I picked up the cake that hadn’t been decorated yet, and in front of him, let go. The cake fell into the trash can along with my dignity. Seeing this, Ethan Wade’s brow relaxed a bit, seemingly finally satisfied. He turned toward his guests and put on a smile, as if the coldness just now was only my illusion: “Sorry about that. She’s bored and messes around with nothing better to do.” Then they went to the study. The door closed, cutting off the cheerful conversation inside. I stood alone in the kitchen, looking at the ruined cake in the trash can. Tears finally couldn’t be held back, falling heavily onto the floor. I remembered that year we got married. On an afternoon just like this, he had held me and said, “Your cakes are the best in the whole world.” Now he couldn’t even be bothered to look, only finding them embarrassing. I squatted down and mechanically wiped the flour from the floor. As I wiped, I suddenly laughed. Laughing at my own foolishness, laughing at seven years of one-sided affection. I scrubbed the floor three times until there wasn’t a trace left.

The medication the doctor prescribed had severe side effects. These past two days I’d been lying in bed in a daze. And Ethan Wade always had various reasons not to be home. I knew that on the days he didn’t come home, he was with Sophia Reynolds. The next time I saw him was two days later. When he pushed the door open, I was hugging the trash can and dry heaving. All the medicine I’d just taken came back up. My stomach burned like fire. He asked how I was. I wiped my mouth and replied flatly: “I ate something too rich for dinner.” “You’re so pretentious. You’re pregnant and should be getting more nutrition. How can you not eat anything?” He sounded a bit impatient. I laughed coldly inside but didn’t bother explaining. Then he handed me an exquisite outfit. “There’s a charity gala tonight. Several partners will bring their spouses. Come with me.” I leaned weakly against the sofa: “I’m not feeling well. I can’t go.” Ethan Wade’s hand paused while unfastening his cufflinks. He turned to look at me. “It wouldn’t look good to be absent from this kind of occasion. I don’t want people thinking there are problems within my family.” “Just tough it out. Make an appearance and that’s it. You don’t have to socialize.” I didn’t argue further. Once he decided something, it never changed because of my suffering. I took the clothes and walked into the bedroom. After changing, Ethan Wade drove me to the reception. At the venue, Ethan Wade appeared composed and distinguished. He didn’t deliberately show off our relationship, just had me hold his arm. His cuff was ice cold, the stiff fabric pressing painfully against my palm, but I could only force a smile and cooperate with his performance. When people came over to chat, he would introduce me appropriately: “This is my wife, Claire.” When someone offered a toast, he would naturally step aside: “She’s not in a condition to drink. I’ll have this one for her.” His movements were smooth and flowing, his gentlemanly manner perfect. The business partner across from us immediately joked with a laugh: “Ethan Wade really dotes on his wife. No wonder your career is developing so well.” Ethan Wade smiled faintly, his eyes full of satisfied control, taking a sip of wine: “Just doing my duty.” Everything looked so perfect. After being seated, while talking quietly with the person next to him, he casually picked up a piece of fish and put it on my plate. “Try this.” He did it so casually, as if this kind of consideration was a habit ingrained in his bones. I looked at that piece of fish, my stomach cramping. He had probably forgotten that since becoming pregnant, I couldn’t stand even the slightest fishy smell. Every time I smelled it, it triggered severe morning sickness. “Excuse me.” I stood up abruptly, covering my mouth and rushing toward the restroom. Behind me came a ripple of subtle commotion, but I couldn’t care about that anymore. In the stall, I dry heaved for a while until tears streamed down. Only then did that overwhelming feeling gradually subside. I rinsed my mouth and splashed cold water on my face. Looking at my pale reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath. Walking out of the restroom, Ethan Wade was standing by a window in the corridor waiting for me. He held a cigarette in his hand, his expression cold. Seeing me come out, he looked me up and down from a few steps away. “Are you composed now?” He stubbed out his cigarette, his tone lacking concern and more filled with displeasure at having his rhythm disrupted. “It’s only been a moment and you can’t even handle this kind of occasion? I don’t want people thinking I can’t even manage my own wife’s emotions.” Finished speaking, he put on a smile again and extended his arm toward me. “Let’s go. We haven’t greeted Mr. Anderson yet.” I looked at that outstretched arm, hesitated for two seconds, then took it. The moment my fingertips touched him, my heart went completely cold. By the time the gala ended, I was utterly exhausted. My lower abdomen ached faintly, as if something was draining away. Ethan Wade had drunk quite a bit and was leaning back in the seat somewhat excited, completely oblivious to the cold sweat seeping from my forehead. “Today Mr. Anderson even mentioned to me that once our child is born, the board will be more stable.” He closed his eyes, a smile on his lips, his hand unconsciously tapping on his knee. “When it’s time, we’ll throw a big birthday party for the child, right in tonight’s hall.” I turned to look at the speeding night scenery outside the window, my hand pressing hard against my stomach.

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On our third wedding anniversary, Ethan handed me a divorce agreement, his eyes slightly red as he gripped my hand. “Samantha, I got an invitation to a top New York socialite’s banquet. She promised me the vice president position.” His voice was gentle yet cruel. “You’ll spend your whole life stuck in this run-down gallery, and our children would just be ordinary people. For our next generation’s social advancement, I have to choose someone better. You’re so kind—you can understand that, right?” I looked at his guilt-ridden, affectionate expression and signed without hesitation. After all, everyone climbs upward. Nothing wrong with that. He just didn’t know that the New York socialite he’d worked so hard to please was actually my personal assistant whom I’d hired to test him. And that banquet for elite society’s upper crust—it was a welcome party being held for me, the true heiress. “I’ve signed it, Ethan.” I pushed the divorce agreement back across to him. My crisp signature stood out starkly against the white paper. Ethan looked down at my name on the document, his brows furrowing slightly. He clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. In his imagination, I should have been crying, making a scene, threatening suicide, clinging desperately to his leg and begging him not to leave. But he quickly adjusted his expression, putting back on that deeply affectionate yet helpless look—as if he were sacrificing himself for the greater good. “Don’t blame me, Samantha.” He sighed, reaching out to take my hand, his tone dripping with condescending generosity. “I know you’re upset, but this is just facing reality. We can’t spend our whole lives stuck in this shabby gallery. You’re so kind—surely you can understand my difficult position, right?” I leaned back in my chair, avoiding his touch. Ethan’s hand froze mid-air, then awkwardly retreated. He straightened the cuffs of his three-hundred-thousand-dollar custom suit. “The resources Winona can give me are things you could never access painting for a lifetime. I’m a man. I need a career. She’s already gotten an invitation to tonight’s elite New York banquet. After tonight, I’ll be vice president of John Corporation.” The Winona he mentioned was supposedly a top New York socialite, Winona Lynn. She was also my personal assistant, Nina Lynn, whom I paid fifty thousand dollars a month. Looking at this face I’d once found gentle and refined, I found it utterly ridiculous. “You’re right. People should climb upward.” I picked up the glass of cold water on the table and took a sip, looking at him calmly. “Since you’ve found a better ladder, of course I won’t stop you.” Ethan looked at my expressionless face, irritation flashing in his eyes. He probably thought my composure was an act, a ploy for his sympathy. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong in front of me.” He pulled a bank card from his briefcase and pushed it toward me, sounding more and more like a charitable benefactor. “There’s a hundred thousand dollars on this card. Consider it my compensation to you. The gallery’s rent is due next month. Take this money and go back home to find a stable job. Stop suffering here in New York.” A hundred thousand dollars. The custom suit he was wearing—I’d had it hand-made in Italy. The Patek Philippe on his wrist—I’d given it to him for his birthday last year. Worth two million dollars. And now he was offering me a hundred thousand to dismiss the wife who’d quietly served him for three years. “No need. Keep your money.” I didn’t touch the card. “After all, you’ll need to break into high society. Everything costs money there. A hundred thousand probably won’t even buy a single bottle of wine in their circles.” Ethan’s expression darkened. “Don’t be ungrateful, Samantha.” He lowered his voice, finally showing a hint of warning. “Take the money. From now on, we go our separate ways. Don’t go spreading nonsense to Winona. She’s innocent and kind—I don’t want you frightening her.” Just as he finished speaking, the gallery’s glass door was pushed open from outside. “Ethan, aren’t you done yet?” A sweet, cloying voice called out. Winona swayed in, acting like an arrogant heiress. The moment Ethan saw her, the gloom on his face vanished instantly. He rushed to greet her, his posture extremely humble. His tone was obsequious and flattering: “Winona, why did you come in person? This place is filthy—be careful not to dirty your limited edition shoes.” Winona removed her sunglasses and surveyed my gallery with disgust. “It really is a dump.” She walked up to me, looking down with undisguised contempt in her eyes. “So you’re Ethan’s ex-wife? You’re just average-looking. No wonder he chose me. These days, a pretty face isn’t enough—you need to bring value to your man.” I looked at this face I’d paid to hire, barely suppressing my laughter. Nina’s acting was definitely worth the fifty thousand a month. “Miss Lynn, is it?” I leaned back in my chair without standing. “You’ve got the man. I’ve signed the papers. The door’s that way. I won’t see you out.” Winona sneered. “Quite the attitude. Ethan, I don’t like how arrogant she’s being.” Ethan immediately turned around, frowning at me with apparent anguish. “Samantha, watch your attitude. Winona is a real heiress. Don’t take out your lower-class resentment on her. Apologize to Winona right now.” “You want me to apologize to her?” I looked at him coldly. “Ethan, this is my gallery. Tell your fiancée to shut her privileged mouth.” Ethan took a deep breath, as if trying hard to control his anger. He didn’t explode. Instead, he shook his head, looking at me like I was a hopeless idiot. “You’re such a disappointment, Samantha. I wanted to leave you with some dignity, but since you’re so ungrateful, suit yourself.” He turned around and protectively put his arm around Winona. “Winona, let’s go. Don’t let this kind of person ruin your mood before John Corporation’s banquet.” Watching their intertwined figures leave, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Mr. Kane. “How are the banquet preparations coming?” He replied instantly: “Miss, everything is ready. We’re just waiting for you.” I locked my screen and looked out the window. Ethan, you think you’ve climbed to a high branch. You don’t know it’s just a deep pit I dug for your destruction.

The gallery fell quiet again. I picked up the divorce agreement from the table and casually tossed it into the nearby trash can. Ethan thought he had me figured out. He assumed that without him, I could only slink back home in disgrace. After all, for the past three years, to play the role of a gentle, considerate ordinary wife, I’d worn cheap clothes from Amazon every day, tied on an apron in the kitchen to make him soup, and even rented this storefront to run a gallery so I wouldn’t seem too idle. I’d disguised everything perfectly. Before I could collect myself, the screech of brakes sounded outside. Ethan had returned. This time without Winona, but followed by several uniformed movers. He maintained that suited, superior elite demeanor, one hand in his pocket, his tone coldly issuing orders. “Clear out all the unnecessary stuff in here. Be careful—don’t scratch the walls.” I frowned and stood up. “What the hell are you doing, Ethan?” Ethan pulled a rental contract from his briefcase and placed it lightly on the table, his expression as detached as if handling an insignificant business matter. “Face reality, Samantha. When we rented this place, we used my ID. The contract has my name on it. Now I’m taking back this space.” I looked at the contract. Back then, I’d let him sign it because I didn’t want the hassle of exposing the John family’s assets. But I’d paid ten years of rent upfront. “I paid the rent,” I stated coldly. Ethan looked like he’d heard a joke, smirking helplessly. “You can’t sell two paintings a month. Where would you get money for rent? It was all scraped together from the household money I gave you every month, wasn’t it?” He adjusted his perfect tie. His tone was dismissive: “Winona thinks the lighting in this location is nice. She’s planning to convert it into her private walk-in closet. Samantha, stop making a scene. Leave with some dignity—it’s better for both of us.” He waved his hand, and the movers immediately came forward to carry out my easels and paintings. “Careful there.” Ethan pointed at an oil painting on the wall that had taken me two months to complete. He told the workers, “Throw this junk straight into the garbage truck. Don’t pile it by the door where it’ll offend Winona’s eyes.” The workers roughly tore the painting down. The frame hit the floor, paint scattering everywhere. Ethan didn’t even glance at it, just stepped back in disgust, afraid the dust would dirty his custom leather shoes. I didn’t try to stop them. Arguing with a shallow person blinded by vanity would only lower my own worth. “Fine.” I nodded, picking up my canvas bag from the table, my expression utterly calm. “Ethan, this space is yours. I hope you enjoy tonight’s banquet as much as you’re enjoying this right now.” Ethan smiled slightly, thinking I was just venting impotent rage and jealousy. “Of course. Tonight I’ll meet John Corporation’s chairman directly. Once I get my vice president appointment letter, our worlds will be separated by an insurmountable wall. Take care of yourself.” I didn’t acknowledge him further, walking straight out of the gallery. The sunlight outside was blinding. I glanced back. Ethan stood in the wreckage, hands clasped behind his back like a nouveau riche surveying his territory, directing workers to throw away my heart’s work like garbage. I pulled out my phone and called Mr. Kane. “Look into Ethan’s current company.” I walked forward while speaking coldly. “Tell HR that by tomorrow morning, I want to see his termination notice and a massive claim for breach of non-compete agreement.” “Yes, Miss. Also…” Mr. Kane paused. “When we went to your rental apartment to pack your clothes, we discovered your Ocean Heart sapphire necklace was missing. The drawer showed signs of being pried open. Should we report it to the police?” I stopped walking and suddenly laughed coldly. “To buy all those luxury items for Nina to maintain appearances, Ethan probably maxed out all his cards and exhausted his loans, didn’t he? With nowhere else to turn, he thought to steal my cheap knockoff and give it as a gift.” “Don’t report it.” I got into the car waiting by the curb. “Let him wear it to the banquet. Stolen goods shine brightest under the spotlight. The higher he climbs, the more thoroughly he’ll be destroyed when he falls.”

By the time I returned to my suburban villa, it was getting dark. In the living room, over a dozen of New York’s top stylists and assistants had been waiting. When they saw me enter, they bowed in unison: “Miss.” I tossed my cheap canvas bag onto the sofa and sat down before the makeup mirror. “Let’s begin.” For the next two hours, I let them strip away three years of disguise as an ordinary housewife. As layers of French haute couture draped my body, as my casually pinned hair was styled into lazy, elegant waves, the downtrodden Samantha in the mirror disappeared. In her place stood the heiress of John Corporation with all her rightful brilliance. Mr. Kane approached carrying a velvet box. Inside lay a dazzling pink diamond necklace—my mother’s legacy. “Miss, it’s almost time.” At eight o’clock, an extended Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled smoothly up to the main entrance of the Peninsula Hotel. Tonight, John Corporation had reserved the entire Peninsula Hotel. Security was extremely tight. Countless luxury cars stopped before the red carpet. Everyone who stepped out was truly powerful and influential in New York. The car door was respectfully opened by the doorman. I lifted my gown, just extending one leg, when a familiar voice came from the edge of the crowd at the security perimeter. “Samantha?! How did you follow us here like some ghost?!” I looked toward the voice. Beyond the security line, Ethan was staring at me with wide eyes. He probably assumed this Rolls-Royce belonged to some dignitary, and I was shamelessly crashing the red carpet. Winona clung to his arm in a cheap rented gown, but around her neck hung the sapphire necklace pried from my drawer. Seeing I wasn’t responding, Ethan tried to push past the security line to show off in front of Winona, lowering his voice to scold me: “I’m warning you—this isn’t a place for trash like you to make a scene! Get lost right now before you embarrass yourself!” Winona deliberately thrust out her chest, flaunting the stolen goods around her neck, covering her mouth with a coy laugh: “Ethan, your ex-wife is so pathetic. Where did she rent that knockoff gown from? Is she here to find a sugar daddy? Too bad—not even a fly can get through that door.” I looked coldly at the necklace around Winona’s neck, my gaze penetrating: “That necklace—comfortable to wear?” Winona smugly touched her neck. “Of course it’s comfortable. Ethan specially bought this for me. It cost hundreds of thousands! A poor woman like you has probably never even seen the real thing, right?” Ethan averted his eyes somewhat guiltily, his gaze shifty. He knew exactly where that necklace came from, but he could never imagine that what he thought was a knockoff was actually worth ten million dollars. “Stop making trouble here, Samantha.” Ethan tried to cover his guilt with arrogance. “Winona’s necklace has nothing to do with you! I’m about to go in and meet Chairman John. If you anger the important people inside, you won’t even know how you died!” Just then, a low engine roar tore through the night. A black Maybach drove straight up beside the Rolls-Royce and stopped. The door opened, and a man in a custom suit with an intensely oppressive presence stepped out. The surrounding crowd immediately gasped in shock. “It’s the Payne family’s eldest son! New York’s crown prince, Caspian Payne!”

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I grew up with Muniz, but I’ve always maintained boundaries. Every time he got into a relationship, I’d cut off contact on my own. On his twenty-seventh birthday, he suddenly said to me, “Tucker, why don’t we just settle for each other? I’m serious.” It was the first time Muniz crossed the line and reached out his hand to me. I looked at him and thought for a few seconds. “Muniz, if we become a couple and then break up, I won’t be friends with you anymore.” He laughed carelessly. “We won’t break up. I can’t bear to lose you.” So I took his outstretched hand. This “settling” lasted three years. At the engagement party, Muniz was hiding on the balcony with a friend, smoking. “Muniz, back then you were afraid your grandfather would go after Scott, so you asked Tucker to be a cover for her. But from what I saw today, Tucker seems genuinely sincere.” “Don’t tell me you never told Tucker this was all an act?” The hazy smoke obscured Muniz’s face. His voice was cold and calm. “I was too rushed that day. I forgot.” My footsteps stopped at the corner. I was still holding the cold medicine I’d brought for Muniz. Ramon’s voice shot up in shock. He cursed Muniz, calling him a bastard, then leaned in to ask more. “So what’s the situation between you and Tucker now? Real marriage or fake marriage?” “I saw Scott post on Ins yesterday—you spent the night before your engagement at her place.” Muniz laughed. “Scott is my girlfriend, of course.” “As for Tucker, she’s just a marriage alliance partner. What’s the difference between real or fake marriage?” “I could tell ages ago that she likes me. Giving her a happy marriage and a title isn’t exactly treating her badly.” The glass in my hand burned so hot it hurt my palm. I looked down awkwardly and realized the cold medicine I’d brought for Muniz had already melted in my hand. Even hotter was my face—the humiliation of having my secret crush exposed and mocked. “You know what? Tucker is actually pretty stupid. I’ve been playing the field for years. Who holds hands with a marriage alliance partner and gets breathless and can’t make eye contact?” “She always pretends to be cool and indifferent, but she’s actually super patient and really indulgent with me.” Muniz coughed softly twice, then bragged. “Two days before the engagement, I lied and told her I had an emergency business trip. She didn’t even suspect me. She even helped me pack.” “Last night, Scott and I got a little wild by the window. When I came home at dawn with a headache, the medicine at home had expired.” “She went out in the middle of the night in her pajamas with a down jacket over them to buy medicine, then coaxed me into taking it before going to sleep.” “Every half hour or so, she’d get up to feel my forehead, afraid I’d get a fever.” “She probably doesn’t even know how much she likes me.” Ramon hissed through his teeth. “Muniz, Tucker’s been so good to you all these years. You’re telling me you’re not even a little bit moved?” I stood outside the door feeling like a joke, my eyes stinging uncontrollably. But I still didn’t leave. I wanted to hear Muniz’s answer. Muniz didn’t hesitate for a second. His tone was mocking. “What a stupid question. Of course I don’t like her.” “Tucker and I have known each other for thirty years. If we were going to be together, we would’ve gotten together ages ago. Why would I wait until I was twenty-seven?” “I like the wild but innocent type. She’s cold and hard—completely doesn’t fit my dating criteria.” “Love is about that instant spark. I don’t believe in growing feelings over time. Even if another thirty years passed, I still wouldn’t like her.” He took another deep drag, completely self-righteous. “But Tucker is my friend for life. She’ll be my family in the future. Even if I don’t love her, I definitely won’t treat her badly.” “I want both her and Scott.” My heart ached, yet I couldn’t help wanting to laugh. What did Muniz think I was—some object for him to pick up and put down at will? Take it when he wants it, toss it aside when he doesn’t. How pathetic must I be for him to think that marrying me was some kind of favor to me? On the rooftop, Ramon sighed and patted Muniz’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Muniz. The party’s about to start.” “Scott’s pretending to be my cousin tonight, right?” I turned and went downstairs first, rushing into the bathroom to dry heave. Tears fell faster than I could wipe them, ruining my carefully applied makeup. All these years of feelings were like a rancid swamp that suddenly submerged me, making me feel suffocated and disgusted. My phone kept dinging with group messages. [Engagement party! Where are our bride and groom?] [Muniz and I will be right there. My cousin is coming tonight too.] [Since when do you have a cousin? Where’s Tucker? Not a peep from her.] I found an empty room, washed my face clean, and reapplied light makeup. All these years, every time Muniz got into a relationship, I’d cut off contact. I wanted to see what Muniz’s sweetheart actually looked like. I used a cotton swab to wipe away tears that had fallen from the corner of my eye without me noticing, to keep from ruining my foundation. Muniz probably thought that when I said we wouldn’t be friends after breaking up, I was joking with him. But I, Tucker, have never lacked friends. And I don’t want to keep company with someone who doesn’t love me anymore.

“Tucker, what took you so long?” As soon as I sat down, Muniz started whining and acting cute with me. “I haven’t taken my medicine tonight yet. My cough seems even worse.” He blinked his eyes and nuzzled his face against my shoulder. Not a trace of the cold, unfeeling person from the rooftop moments ago. Friends nearby started teasing. “What are you doing! Take your PDA outside!” “These two are disgustingly clingy all day! If I didn’t think they were perfect for each other—and couldn’t beat them up—I would’ve kicked them out of the group chat ages ago!” “This is what we call true love prevailing! Childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven!” “Muniz fooled around for twenty-some years and now he’s totally whipped by our Tucker. Makes even me believe in love.” The sticky residue from the melted pill coating still lingered on my palm. Suppressing my disgust, I smiled faintly. I leaned forward slightly to reach for the sparkling wine at the corner of the table, also avoiding Muniz. “Where’s Ramon?” Muniz was about to lean in again, but when he heard me ask about Ramon, he froze. “He went to pick up a friend! Oh, there they are now.” Ramon and a thin girl in a white dress sat down one after the other, keeping half a meter between them. “You’re one lucky guy. Your friend is so pretty—why don’t you introduce her to us?” A friend joked. Ramon glanced at Muniz awkwardly and replied. “This is my friend, Scott.” Amid the lively laughter, I looked at Scott, and she looked at Muniz with glistening eyes. The person who had been constantly sidling up to me moments ago now subtly pulled away, leaning against the sofa beside him. That dull pain surged up again. No matter how hard I tried to control it, I couldn’t suppress the sadness and anger rising in my heart. Scott hadn’t learned to restrain herself. Or maybe, as the one being loved, she had the right to be arrogant. Her gaze lingered on Muniz almost brazenly. My friend Barbara noticed I was unhappy and laughed directly. “Scott, the guy you’re staring at is off-limits. He’s about to get married.” Scott’s face immediately turned red. She looked away, laughing somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” Muniz still had a smile on his face, but his tone was sharp as he defended her. “Barbara, you like to play around, but not everyone is like you.” Barbara’s temper flared. She stood up to smack Muniz. I held her back and smiled at Muniz. “You talk like you’re so faithful. Barbara has never two-timed anyone.” Muniz froze. He instinctively avoided my gaze, then forced a calm smile. “I haven’t either. Why are you getting mad at me?” Seeing my obviously unhappy face, Muniz picked up a drink and downed it. “I spoke wrong. I apologize to Barbara. Let’s move on.” Amid everyone’s laughter and conversation, I saw Scott looking at Muniz with eyes full of heartache. As if I were some terrible villain tormenting this poor little couple. “Alright, alright, let’s play a game. How about spin the bottle photo album?” Ramon stepped in to smooth things over. “If you’ve got anything you can’t show, hide it now. Don’t scare everyone.” “I’ll pick a date first.” “May 17, 2023!” Everyone pulled out their phones. Whoever the bottle pointed to had to open their photo album to the corresponding date and show everyone what they did that day. The bottle’s mouth stopped right in front of me on the first spin. My phone screen was shared to the big screen. Ocean waves, beach, candlelit dinner, and a screenshot of a delivery locker number. “That’s from your birthday that year! You two went to the beach together for vacation!” Barbara teased, pushing my shoulder and lowering her voice. “I even asked you if sleeping with a man felt amazing.” I smiled at Barbara. What was once beautiful now tasted only bitter. A sharp-eyed friend pointed at the screen and asked Muniz. “You two ordered delivery at 2 AM?” “What kind of delivery, Muniz? Don’t tell me it was condoms!” All our friends burst into laughter. Muniz, who usually played along, couldn’t laugh this time. He looked at Scott, whose face had gone pale. “No, just some cold medicine. Don’t talk nonsense.” Malice suddenly surged from my heart. “Wasn’t buying medicine that day because you hurt me?” I smiled gently, tearing open my own wound just to disgust them. “You were too rough. I don’t know what you were so excited about. That dress was expensive—I’d only worn it once.” “Muniz, you acted like you’d never slept with anyone before. Your technique was terrible.” “Did the Scotts you liked before never let you touch them?” Amid everyone’s teasing and joking, I saw Scott bow her head and wipe away tears. I saw Muniz looking displeased yet forcibly holding back his frustration. I was clearly laughing from the satisfaction, yet my chest felt so stuffy and my nose so sore. “Next one!” Ramon wiped the sweat from his forehead and spun the bottle again. The mouth pointed at Scott. She forced a fragile smile. “There’s nothing interesting in my album.” Barbara looked at me, then at her, frowning perceptively. “Scott, if you can’t handle the game, don’t join in.” Muniz frowned. Before he could speak, I grabbed his hand first. I leaned close to his face, tinged with anger. From the side, it probably looked like we were kissing. “I’m a little hungry. Can you go order some food for me?” Muniz paused for a few seconds, then stood up and went to the private room attendant to get the iPad for ordering. “I can handle it.” I knew Scott had seen my interaction with him. I heard the gritted teeth in her voice. She glared at me through tears. This was the first time tonight she made eye contact with me, with desperate determination and unconcealed hatred. Her phone was projected onto the big screen. The first image was a chat screenshot. A nosy friend read aloud. “Did you sleep with her? You said it was just a marriage alliance. You promised me you wouldn’t touch her!” “But I was thinking about you the whole time, Scott.”

“I want fries, Tucker!” A friend calling me to order ended on the same note as the last line in the chat. The atmosphere in the private room suddenly went quiet for a few seconds. I finished ordering and handed it to the attendant. I put my trembling hands under the table and smiled. “What a coincidence.” “But from what I’m hearing, Miss Scott sounds like a mistress.” “Tucker!” Muniz suddenly called out. Meeting my calm eyes, he forced an ugly smile. “Tucker, don’t talk to others so rudely.” Before I could answer, Scott suddenly raised her voice. “I’m not a mistress.” She looked at Muniz, full of defiance. “My boyfriend and I are each other’s first love. We gave each other our first kisses, our first times.” “It’s just that his family is too stubborn and won’t approve of us being together. Otherwise we wouldn’t have separated!” “He and his girlfriend are just in an open marriage alliance. His girlfriend has a one-sided crush on him. His parents forced them together.” Scott vented her emotions freely, swiping through screens. “The day before May 17, we celebrated his birthday together.” “His flight was at 11 PM, but he dragged it out until 9 before heading to the airport. He almost missed his flight.” “Before leaving, he bought me flowers. We ate cake together and made love for a long time.” “This is the birthday gift he gave me. I just looked at it once on his phone, and he took a photo and gave it to me.” It was a brilliant aquamarine ring. “He said he’d only ever buy a ring for me in this lifetime.” I was somewhat stunned. I was at that auction too. I also wanted that ring, but some stranger bid on it directly. Muniz consoled me at the time, saying he’d buy me an even more beautiful one. But now we were already engaged. I touched my bare fingers and suddenly realized Muniz had never bought me a ring. Scott scrolled back to the 17th. I saw in the sliding screenshots. Even though he was by my side, Muniz had been sweet-talking her from morning till night. Those beautiful sceneries—she had a share of them too. Beautiful travel jewelry—Muniz had them all noted in his memos, saying the packages were on the way. And there was a photo of a cake. In the shadow, I saw my own clothes and half my chin. I saw myself with hands clasped together, eyes closed, making a wish to always be with the person I loved. At that moment, he was beside me, typing to Scott. “This cake is delicious. I’ll buy it for you to try next time.”

So disgusting. I pressed down on Barbara’s leg. From the moment she saw that photo, she’d grabbed the wine bottle. “Tucker, that’s… that’s!” “Don’t rush.” I smiled at Barbara. Her eyes were flashing with tears from anger as she cursed incoherently about idiots and bitches. The atmosphere in the private room suddenly fell into suffocating silence. “Is Miss Scott finished? Then next round.” I calmly spun the bottle on the table again. “I want to choose April 2, 2025.” “Want to play together?” Muniz lost his composure for the first time tonight. He suddenly put his arm around my shoulder. “Tucker, my head hurts a bit.” “I just remembered I took antibiotics tonight. I can’t drink.” “Let’s go to the hospital, okay?” I removed his hand bit by bit and smiled. “No.” I opened my phone first. The screen showed the pale walls of a hospital room. Post-miscarriage care instructions photos. Medical advice in my notes. A chat screenshot I’d sent to my mom. [The doctor said I might never be able to have children again.] [Mom, they still haven’t found the hit-and-run driver.] [Let’s postpone the marriage registration.] April 2, 2025, was the fifth day after the accident. On the day Muniz and I were supposed to register our marriage. A woman suddenly rushed in front of our car. There was still some distance—emergency braking could have worked. Muniz had even raced cars before. But he was so nervous at that moment that he jerked the steering wheel hard. The entire passenger side crashed into the guardrail beside us. The child who had just begun to have a heartbeat was gone. I was severely injured and lay in the ICU for three days. When I woke up, I saw Muniz kneeling by the hospital bed, having lost a lot of weight. He said he could do without children, but no matter what, he had to spend this lifetime with me. “Let’s not look anymore, Tucker.” At this moment, Muniz gripped my hand, his eyes full of undisguised panic. “I really don’t feel well. Let’s go, okay?” Scott hesitantly tried to put away her phone, but Barbara snatched it first. She viciously scrolled to that day. It was a photo of Scott posing in lingerie in front of a mirror. And a video with a shaky camera pointed at a messy, filthy floor. Amid chaotic panting, I heard Scott crying. “Didn’t you say you hated me, that you never wanted to see me again for the rest of your life? Why did you come?” She was pressed down and kissed. “I really want to destroy you!” The man gritted his teeth, then comforted her in a hoarse voice. “Scott, that was my child. Do you know she might never be able to get pregnant again?” “I can give birth for you!” Scott’s voice sounded so aggrieved. “If you want to compensate her, just give her our child.” Muniz seemed to sigh. “I love you so much. How could I bear for you to lose a child?” “Just consider it… something she and I owe you.” I finished watching this farce, drank the last sip of wine, and set down my glass. As if also setting down thirty years of entanglement. “Muniz, let’s break up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “407136”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

While working my fifth job to help my boyfriend pay off his debts, I saw my supposedly bankrupt boyfriend sitting elegantly in a sports car, dressed in an expensive suit. Beside him was a young woman with a bright smile on her face. “Ethan, you’re such a good actor. Three years, and Susan never suspected a thing. With acting skills like that, it’s a shame you didn’t go into film.” Ethan said casually: “I thought she’d give up and run within six months. Never expected she’d actually stick it out for three years, sell her house, and work five jobs to help me pay off debts. Honestly didn’t see that coming.” “Well, we made a bet back then—betting on whether she’d take the money and run when she found out you were bankrupt, whether this gold-digger would leave you. Looks like you won.” Ethan smiled without responding, his eyes showing not a trace of emotion, only the smugness of winning a wager. He never once considered how much a woman must love someone to sell her own house and work five jobs a day, exhausting herself day and night, just to help him pay off debts that didn’t even exist.

3 AM. I pushed open the door to my rental in the slums. The cold wind stung my face. Handmade hair clips scattered across the floor. This was my fifth job of the day. 5:30 AM—delivering milk. Noon—washing dishes at a restaurant for three hours. Afternoon—handing out flyers in the shopping district for four hours. Evening—working the night shift at a convenience store for eight hours. After getting off work in the early morning, I still had to rush to make handmade hair clips to earn money for the next day’s groceries. I’d lived like this for three whole years. Three years ago, Ethan knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes, saying his company had gone bankrupt. He owed eight million in debt, creditors were hounding him daily, and he was at his wit’s end. Ethan and I had been together for seven years. From college campus to his entrepreneurial success, I’d accompanied him through days of having nothing and witnessed him standing at the peak. That day, I held him, patting his back and saying: “It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll pay back the money slowly. As long as you’re safe, nothing else matters.” I quit my stable nine-to-five job with a monthly salary over ten thousand and started working around the clock. To help him pay off his debts, I sold the only property my parents had left me—my last safety net in this city. I moved from a well-furnished apartment with a river view to this slum rental that cost three hundred a month, had no air conditioning, and leaked when it rained in summer. I couldn’t even afford the five-dollar subway fare and cycled halfway across the city every day. Though exhausting, it was also happiness. I crouched down to pick up the hair clips when suddenly my stomach churned violently. I rushed into the bathroom, coughing violently. It was blood. I froze, then frantically turned on the faucet to wash it away, forcing a smile at myself in the mirror. It’s fine. Just been too tired lately. My old stomach problem acting up. It’ll get better with rest. I couldn’t break down. Ethan was already struggling enough. I couldn’t add to his troubles. Walking out of the bathroom, I found Ethan awake, leaning against the headboard, his eyes red-rimmed. He came over and hugged me, his chin resting on top of my head, his voice choked: “Susan, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, my uselessness, making you suffer like this with me.” I hugged him back, hiding my injured hands behind me, smiling as I comforted him: “Don’t talk nonsense. We’re a couple—we should share both joy and hardship. We’ll pay back the money slowly. We’ll clear it eventually. As long as we’re together, there’s no obstacle we can’t overcome.” He held me tighter. I couldn’t see his face, only heard his low sigh. Back then, I was still immersed in the dream I’d woven of sharing hardships together. I didn’t notice at all that when he held me, his eyes showed not a trace of guilt, only a hint of amusement at a wager about to be won. A knock came at the door. It was his childhood friend, Vivian Taylor. She wore a designer coat and high heels, standing at the doorway. She glanced condescendingly at the shabby rental, her eyes full of disdain, and said to Ethan: “Ethan, I came to check on you. Also wanted to remind you—those people are pressing again. Don’t lose the bet and embarrass yourself.” She turned to look at me, her lips curling into a mocking smile: “Susan, you really can take it. If it were me, I’d have run long ago.” Ethan frowned, pulling me behind him protectively, saying to Vivian: “Stop talking nonsense. Susan isn’t like that.” I just assumed Vivian looked down on my poverty and smiled without responding. Back then, I had no idea what their “bet” meant. They were betting on my life. Betting on three years of my wholehearted devotion. Betting on this life of mine that had been worked to destruction. I turned to heat up breakfast for Ethan, not hearing Vivian lean close to his ear and say with a smile: “Three more months until the bet expires. Ethan, you’re about to win. You’d better compensate me well then.” Ethan looked at my back, his lips curling into a careless smile, and softly hummed in agreement.

The winter wind grew colder, and my health deteriorated further. Frequent stomach pains, dizziness, coughing up blood—each episode worse than the last. Once, while washing dishes at the restaurant, everything suddenly went black and I collapsed straight to the floor. Bowls shattered everywhere, shards cutting my arm, blood flowing profusely. The boss was terrified and wanted to send me to the hospital. I climbed up, waved him off, paid for the broken dishes, and gritted my teeth to continue washing. Go to the hospital? One examination would cost several hundred dollars—enough to buy Ethan breakfast for a week, enough to pay half a month’s interest. I couldn’t bear to spend it. During my lunch break, I went to the small clinic in the alley to get stomach medicine from Dr. Miller. Dr. Miller looked at my pale face and frowned: “Susan, your condition isn’t right. This isn’t a simple stomach problem. You must go to a major hospital for a comprehensive examination. You can’t keep putting it off. Look at yourself—you’ve lost almost twenty pounds in the past six months, and you’re coughing up blood every day. This isn’t a small matter.” I clutched the medicine box, smiling: “Dr. Miller, it’s fine. I’ve just been too tired lately. Once I get through this busy period, I’ll go for a checkup.” I didn’t dare go. I was afraid they’d find something serious that would cost money, interfere with work, and make Ethan worry. I kept thinking that once the debt was paid off, once Ethan recovered, everything would be fine. Back at the rental, I hid the medicine in the deepest part under the bed, not wanting Ethan to see it. He’d been sighing constantly lately, saying the creditors were pressing hard, saying he was useless. I couldn’t let him worry about me too. That evening during my night shift, Ethan messaged me saying Vivian had introduced him to a job that could make some money, and he’d be going out that night, telling me not to worry. I replied “Okay, stay safe,” then continued working the register, my heart aching for him—things were already so difficult, yet he still had to go around looking for work. I had no idea that that night, he drove the Porsche parked outside the slums, took Vivian to the top floor of a five-star hotel, ate Western food that cost thousands per person, and opened a bottle of wine I could never afford in my lifetime. He and Vivian sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at the city lights below, smiling as they clinked glasses. Vivian swirled her wine glass, raising an eyebrow: “Ethan, you’re such a good actor. Three years, and Susan never suspected a thing. With acting skills like that, it’s a shame you didn’t go into film.” Ethan took a sip of wine and said casually: “I thought she’d give up and run within six months. Never expected she’d actually stick it out for three years, sell her house, and work five jobs to help me pay off debts. Honestly didn’t see that coming.” “Well, of course,” Vivian laughed. “We made a bet back then—betting on whether she’d take the money and run when she found out you were bankrupt, whether this gold-digger would leave you. Looks like you won.” Ethan smiled without responding, his eyes showing not a trace of emotion, only the smugness of winning a wager. He never once considered how much a woman must love someone to sell her own house, work five jobs a day, and exhaust herself day and night, just to help him pay off debts that didn’t even exist. He didn’t return to the rental until early morning, carrying the faint scent of alcohol and perfume. I’d just gotten off my night shift and was making him soup. Smelling it, my heart skipped a beat, but I still didn’t think much of it, assuming he’d been drinking with clients and picked up the scent. I handed him the hangover soup. He took it, hugged me with reddened eyes, and started apologizing again, saying he’d made me suffer. I stroked his hair, smiling and saying it was fine, my heart still aching for him—having to drink with people to make money, having to endure so much humiliation. Thinking back now, I was pathetically foolish then. After he fell asleep, I started coughing violently again. Afraid of waking him, I covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom. I coughed up more blood than last time. Looking at my deathly pale, emaciated reflection in the mirror, I finally felt afraid. I took out my phone and secretly made an appointment at the city hospital for the following Monday afternoon. I thought—just get it checked. If it’s nothing, that’s best. If there really is something, treat it early so I don’t become a burden to Ethan. I still wanted a future with him. I still wanted to buy a small house with him once the debt was paid off, have a child, and live a stable life together. Back then, I was still fantasizing about the future, completely unaware that the future I envisioned had been an elaborate scam from the very beginning. My devotion, my sacrifices, my life—in his eyes, they were nothing more than bargaining chips in a wager.

Monday morning, after delivering milk, I was preparing to go to the hospital for my examination when Ethan called, saying his stomach hurt badly and asking me to buy him medicine. Without a second thought, I immediately turned my bicycle around, went to the pharmacy to buy medicine, and rushed back to the rental. He lay in bed, frowning, looking very uncomfortable. I poured him water, fed him medicine, rubbed his stomach, bustling about, completely forgetting about the hospital appointment. By the time he fell asleep, it was already afternoon. I’d long missed my hospital appointment. I sighed and canceled the appointment, thinking—forget it, I’ll make another appointment next time. Taking care of him comes first. That afternoon, I had to hand out flyers in the shopping district. The district was close to the city hospital. After finishing, I thought I’d stop by the hospital to get some cough medicine. Just as I reached the hospital entrance, I saw a familiar Porsche. I remembered the license plate—it was the first car Ethan bought when his startup succeeded. He’d said he sold it to pay debts when he went bankrupt. I froze, thinking I’d seen wrong. I rubbed my eyes. It was definitely that car—even the car sticker was exactly the same as before. Just then, the car door opened. Ethan stepped out, wearing a bespoke suit I’d never seen before, his hair meticulously styled, looking spirited and successful—nothing like his usual down-and-out, haggard appearance. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped out Vivian. Vivian wore a designer dress with a diamond ring on her hand. She linked arms with Ethan, laughing brilliantly. The two of them walked intimately into the upscale Western restaurant next to the hospital. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, standing frozen in place, my limbs ice-cold, my blood seemingly congealed. Bankruptcy? Selling the car? Debts? All lies. My mind went blank. As if possessed, I followed them into the restaurant and sat in the booth next to theirs, hiding behind a menu. Their conversation reached my ears, every word crystal clear. Vivian laughed: “Ethan, one more month until the bet expires. When are you planning to come clean with Susan? You can’t keep pretending to be poor forever, right? I can’t wait to move into your riverside mansion.” Ethan’s voice came, carrying a careless laugh: “What’s the rush? Once the bet expires, I’ll come clean with her. I’ll give her some money as compensation for these three years of hard work.” “Compensation?” Vivian sneered. “What, have you actually fallen for her? Don’t forget—you were the one who bet me that Susan definitely wasn’t a gold-digger, that even if you were penniless, she’d stay with you. Now that you’ve won, don’t go back on your word.” “Don’t worry,” Ethan’s voice turned cold. “I only feel guilty toward her, not love. If you hadn’t gone abroad back then, I never would have married her. Once I come clean, I’ll divorce her and marry you.” “Oh right,” Vivian added, “you’ve been secretly saving all that debt repayment money she gave you, right? The money from selling her house, the money from working five jobs—she gave it all to you. Don’t actually give it to her in the end.” Ethan chuckled: “Of course I saved it all, didn’t touch a cent. She’s pretty stupid though, actually believing I owed eight million, giving her heart and soul to help me. Kind of amusing, actually.” I couldn’t hear what came after. My ears were ringing. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a hand, the pain making it impossible to breathe. Three years. Three whole years. I sold the house my parents left me, worked five jobs a day, exhausted myself day and night, ruined my health, developed a body full of ailments, gave my heart and soul to help him through his “difficulties.” In the end, it was nothing but a wager between him and his childhood friend. His supposed bankruptcy, his supposed debts—all fake. My devotion, my sacrifices, my life—in his eyes, they were nothing but a joke, chips proving his charm in a bet. I don’t know how I walked out of that restaurant. I just felt the world spinning, my stomach and chest both aching. The pain made me crouch by the roadside, coughing violently. I coughed up blood right onto the ground, shockingly vivid. Passersby all stared at me, but I felt nothing anymore. I got up, rode my bicycle to the city hospital, and registered for emergency care. After a series of examinations, the doctor held my report, looked at me, sighed, and said gravely: “Susan, why did you only come now? Late-stage gastric cancer, already metastasized. It’s caused by long-term overwork, irregular eating, and severe malnutrition.” “At most, you have six months left.” Late-stage gastric cancer. Six months. I held the diagnosis report and sat in the hospital corridor. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just sat quietly from dawn until dark. Three years of wholehearted devotion in exchange for a scam and a terminal illness. How ridiculous. After dark, I finally rode my bicycle back to that shabby rental. Ethan had already made dinner—all my favorite dishes. Seeing me return, he smiled and came over: “Susan, where were you? Why are you just getting back? I made you dinner. Eat it while it’s hot.” He still wore that deeply devoted, guilty expression, completely different from the spirited, coldly mocking man in the restaurant earlier—like two different people. I looked at him. My heart felt no ripples, only endless coldness and desolation. I didn’t expose him. I just smiled, sat down, and picked up my fork. This wager—he thought he’d won. But he didn’t know he’d lost the version of me who loved him desperately, the genuine heart he could never get back. And I no longer had time to keep playing along with him.

Over the next few days, I continued as usual—waking early to deliver milk, washing dishes at noon, handing out flyers in the afternoon, working night shifts, and making handicrafts in the early morning hours. But I no longer smiled at him like before, no longer held him to comfort him, no longer put him first in everything. When he spoke to me, I only responded flatly. When he hugged me, I no longer hugged back. The love and tenderness in my eyes were gone, replaced only by calm desolation. Ethan seemed to sense something was wrong. He kept frowning and asking: “Susan, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Are you too tired?” I just shook my head, smiling: “It’s fine. Just a bit tired lately. I’ll be better after some rest.” He didn’t ask further, assuming I was exhausted from work. He turned around and messaged Vivian, complaining that I’d been increasingly cold lately, saying once the bet expired, he’d come clean immediately. He didn’t know that when he sent those messages, I was standing right outside the bedroom door, hearing every word clearly. He didn’t know I’d already recorded his and Vivian’s conversation in the restaurant, saved all the records of him secretly transferring the “debt repayment money” I’d given him over the past three years. And that late-stage gastric cancer diagnosis report—I kept it in my bag. I had no plans to make a scene or cry. I just wanted to quietly live out these last six months. This scam, this wager—it was time for it to end. That afternoon, I left the convenience store early, wanting to go back to the rental to pack my things and leave. Just as I reached the door, I heard Ethan’s voice inside. He was on the phone with Vivian, his tone full of satisfaction. “Vivian, don’t worry. Half a month more and the bet expires. Then I’ll come clean with Susan and divorce her to marry you.” “Her? She’s still in the dark, working five jobs every day to make me money. Pathetically stupid. Honestly, if it weren’t for this bet, I never would have known she actually loved me this much.” “What good is love? I never loved her. The person I’ve always loved is you. Once we’re divorced, I’ll take you abroad for our honeymoon and make up for everything I owed you these past three years.” I stood at the door, my hand on the doorknob, not pushing it open or rushing in to confront him. I just listened quietly, my heart completely calm. After he hung up, I pushed the door open and walked in. Ethan saw me and froze for a moment, then quickly resumed his usual down-and-out, guilty appearance, smiling as he came over: “Susan, why are you back early? Are you too tired? Come sit and rest.” I ignored him and walked straight to the bed, picked up my bag, and started packing. He sensed something wrong and grabbed my hand, frowning: “Susan, what are you doing? Where are you going?” I shook off his hand, my tone flat and emotionless: “Ethan, stop acting. I know everything.” His face instantly paled, panic flashing in his eyes: “Susan… what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” “Don’t understand?” I smiled slightly, took out my phone, and played the recording—his conversation with Vivian in the restaurant, and the phone call just now, all playing clearly. When the recording finished, the rental fell deathly silent. Ethan’s face was deathly pale, his whole body trembling. He grabbed my hand, stammering explanations: “Susan, it’s not what you think. Let me explain, I…” “No need to explain.” I cut him off, withdrew my hand, took out the late-stage gastric cancer diagnosis report from my bag, and threw it in front of him. “Ethan, you won this bet. I’m truly not a gold-digger. Even when you were penniless, I stayed with you for three years.” “But you lost. I don’t love you anymore.” “Also, your bet cost me half my life. I only have six months left.” Ethan’s gaze fell on the diagnosis report. When he saw “late-stage gastric cancer” and “six-month survival period,” his pupils contracted sharply. His entire body froze in place, as if struck by lightning. He picked up the diagnosis report, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely hold the paper. He read the words over and over, his face changing from deathly pale to ashen gray to the color of death. “No… impossible… Susan, this isn’t real, right? You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

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Maxwell forbade me from attending Ethan’s parent-teacher conference. He said coldly, “You’ve worked as a mortuary makeup artist for so long, you reek of death. Ethan needs a respectable mother.” After the conference ended, my son brought Maxwell’s first love, Sophia Clarke, home with him. “Miss Clarke, I really wish you were my mom.” When he saw me, Ethan’s face hardened. “Why are you here? My parent-teacher conference is already over.” I twisted the strap of my purse, only managing to squeeze out: “Why don’t you want your mom…” Ethan frowned. “Because you’re really embarrassing. You always smell weird…” My heart went cold in that instant. Looking at the identical disgust on father and son’s faces, exhaustion finally washed over me. My son shoved me. “Leave! I don’t want you in my house!” I looked at his contemptuous eyes, feeling a sharp pain in my chest. A tear fell as I said softly, “Fine. I’ll leave your house.” I thought, it’s time to return to my own home. Maxwell didn’t know that the daughter of the Sinclair family who’d once helped his company go public with a single word—that was me.

Ethan suddenly scoffed. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing—playing hard to get!” “You obviously want to go to the conference, but you’re pretending you don’t care to force us to let you go.” My movement toward the door froze, my heart stinging from his words. I gripped the purse strap tightly, my voice hoarse. “Who taught you that?” Ethan hid behind Sophia, sticking his tongue out at me. “Bleh! I called you out, didn’t I!” But when he looked up, he froze. My face showed none of the hurt I’d previously displayed when hearing such words, none of the anger at being mocked by my own son. Only the calm of someone assessing whether something was worth taking with them. Ethan felt a bit guilty, his grip on Sophia’s fingers tightening. “You… just tell me if I’m right or not!” Maxwell sighed, taking the purse from my hands and closing the door behind him. “That’s enough. Why argue with your own son?” “Stop playing these little games from now on. You’re getting older—doing this just makes people think you’re low-class.” “You spend all day at the mortuary dealing with corpses. You don’t understand high society matters. I’m protecting you.” “Look, whether it’s me, Ethan, or even Sophia—we’re all working hard for the Maxwell family’s future. And you? You’re resorting to these underhanded tricks.” Listening to him, I felt increasingly exhausted. I suddenly realized the high heels on my feet were too tight. I’d worn them specifically for Ethan’s parent-teacher conference. I couldn’t find the right size, so I’d forced my feet into them. Just like this family. Looking at the identical disgust on father and son’s faces, I suddenly realized I could no longer squeeze myself in. I changed out of the heels and casually tossed them in the trash. And this family I couldn’t squeeze into—I would leave it too. Silence spread between us. Sophia smiled, trying to smooth things over. “Summer, you should be more understanding of Maxwell. With such a wonderful husband, what are you even upset about?” She continued, “Maxwell, don’t be so angry either. Summer isn’t a bad person. At least she doesn’t take money to send to her family, right?” Maxwell laughed derisively. “She doesn’t want to send money to her family? She doesn’t have a family to send it to!” My heart clenched painfully. When I first got together with Maxwell, I’d told him I wasn’t in contact with my family to hide my identity. He’d held me and comforted me: “It’s okay, Summer. We’ll have our own family.” Back then, he was so earnest, so sincere. But now, he was using it as a weapon to hurt me. I looked up at him sharply, my voice cold. “Maxwell, do you know what you’re saying?” Maxwell said harshly, “Aren’t I right? Your parents are dead. Without me, you’d have nowhere to go!” Even though I no longer cared, the more beautiful the past had been, the sharper the blade piercing my heart now. My voice was hoarse. “Is that really what you think?” Maxwell tossed me a bank card. “Fine, it’s about money, isn’t it? I’m giving you money. There’s five thousand in this card. Are you satisfied now?” The card hit my forehead, leaving a bloody scratch. I said coldly, “Maxwell, you think five thousand is some grand favor?” My gaze fell on the purse in Sophia’s hands. Maxwell had bought it to “thank” her for attending Ethan’s conference. The spending requirement to even purchase it was a million dollars. Yet I, his lawfully wedded wife, was only worth five thousand. I couldn’t help remembering when Maxwell and I first got married, how he’d sworn to me countless times: “Summer, when I make money, I’ll spend it all on you! I’ll never spend a penny on another woman!” Now, it seemed only I remembered. I took a deep breath and reached for my purse again. There was no point in saying anything more. Leaving like this might be my best choice. Maxwell’s face darkened as he snatched the bag away. “What are you doing?” “I’m leaving.” Maxwell’s temple throbbed. He threatened me: “Summer Sinclair, if you walk out that door, this family won’t take you back!” “I couldn’t ask for anything better.” I pushed the door open and walked out.

But the moment I opened the door, the pollen filling the courtyard made me cough violently. The yard was full of roses, and I was allergic to pollen. A suffocating sensation overwhelmed me. My hands trembled as I reached into my bag for my allergy medication, but Ethan suddenly snatched my bag away. “Give me… the medicine!” I gasped for air, but my lungs felt like they couldn’t take any in. My vision blackened as I collapsed on the ground, feeling like my throat was being strangled. Sophia’s face still wore that gentle, innocent smile. “Sorry, Summer. I just mentioned I liked roses. I didn’t expect Maxwell to actually prepare them for me.” I coughed violently, barely able to speak. Ethan took out my allergy medication. I reached for it with trembling hands, but he stepped back. “You have to apologize to Miss Clarke, Dad, and me first. Then I’ll give it to you!” I looked at him in disbelief. I’d always thought that even if this child favored Sophia, at least I’d taught him basic morality. But now I realized—perhaps the inherited defects of father and son could never be eliminated through education. A tear slid down my face. I couldn’t help but want to laugh bitterly. To give birth to Ethan, I’d received three rounds of medication to prevent miscarriage, and even had my uterus removed due to a difficult delivery… I once thought it was all worth it. But now I saw—it wasn’t. At this point, I suddenly felt all arguments had lost their meaning. “I’m… sorry…” My nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain—only relief. Let this apology be a period, ending everything. After I struggled to say it, Ethan handed me the medicine. The next moment, he ran to Sophia’s side as if seeking praise. “Miss Clarke, I’m a big boy! I protected you!” I watched his proud expression, my thoughts drifting back to last year’s Mother’s Day when he gave me flowers and I had an allergic reaction too. Back then, Maxwell anxiously took me to the hospital, and Ethan stayed by my side, tears dropping onto my arm. “Mom, I’m sorry… From now on, Ethan will be your knight and protect you. I’ll never let you see a single flower again!” But now, looking at the roses blooming in the garden outside, I understood—this family had long ceased to be my family. In this family of three, there had been no place for me for a long time. I got up to leave, but Maxwell grabbed me and pulled me back inside. “Don’t run off. You haven’t made Ethan’s evening calming soup yet. Make his stomach medicine first, then you can go.” I looked at the medicine soaking in cold water, slightly dazed. Ethan was a premature baby. For his health, I gave him tonics every day. This calming soup was extremely labor-intensive. It had to be stirred every ten minutes, simmered for four hours total—twenty-four stirs. The previous housekeeper quit because it was too troublesome. After that, I did everything myself. Sophia said insincerely, “Summer, let me help you.” But Ethan and Maxwell pulled her back from both sides. “Miss Clarke, don’t go. It’s really hard to make. I don’t want you to suffer.” “Sophia, your hands aren’t meant for this kind of work. You and she aren’t the same kind of person.” Sophia gave me a playful smile. “Well, I guess I can’t help then. Sorry to trouble you, Summer.” So what kind of person am I? So I deserve to suffer like this? The suppressed emotions finally erupted like a volcano. I grabbed the pot of medicine and dumped it into the sink. Water splashed everywhere as panic flashed in Maxwell’s eyes.

Sophia dramatically gasped. “Oh my! Summer, what are you doing? Those medicine are expensive!” But when she raised her hand, the watch on her wrist caught my attention. It was my and Maxwell’s token of love. It was also my parents’ token of love. I rushed forward to grab the watch. The room’s air conditioning was on full blast, but I suddenly felt hot all over. “Give it back!” Maxwell pulled Sophia protectively behind him. “What are you making a fuss about now? It’s just a watch. Sophia has helped the Maxwell family so much. Can’t she wear it?” I stared at him intently. “Is it just a watch?” “I told you—that was my parents’ token of love. My father had it specially designed. It’s worth over a hundred million.” “When he gave it to me, he said I could only give it to my husband!” “Maxwell, tell me—is this just a watch?” I stared into his eyes, wanting to see even a trace, even the slightest bit of remorse. But I found none—only disgust and impatience. Sophia suddenly laughed. “Hahaha, sorry… Summer, I really couldn’t hold it in.” “You’re a mortuary makeup artist, and your family could afford a watch worth over a hundred million? Sorry, hahaha, that’s hilarious.” Maxwell’s face flushed with anger. “How long are you going to keep this up? You’re just a makeup artist who works on corpses at a mortuary. No matter what you say, you’re still at the bottom of society!” Ethan made a face at me too. “Mom’s lying, shame on Mom!” Overwhelming humiliation crashed down on me. To marry Maxwell, I’d transformed from a pampered heiress who’d never lifted a finger into their servant, enduring hardships I’d never experienced in my first twenty-five years. But now I finally realized—continuing here had no meaning. My devotion meant nothing to them. Sophia laughed as she removed the watch and handed it to me. “Okay, Summer, no need to be so dramatic. I’ll give it back to you.” But when I reached to take it, she suddenly let go. The watch fell into the drain. “Oops, Summer, I’m so sorry.” “Tell you what, I’ll give you fifty—no, a hundred dollars. You can buy a new one.” Maxwell sneered. “Why give her that much? She calls cheap knockoffs worth a hundred million. If you really give her a hundred bucks, she’ll probably claim she bought one of the world’s top ten luxury watches.” Perhaps because my anger had reached its peak, I actually calmed down instead. I gripped the edge of the sink, staring at the drain for three seconds. The sound of water was soft, but it felt like something had completely shattered. My hands trembled, but I didn’t cry. I finally understood—there was no point in continuing this entanglement. But before I could speak, Maxwell checked his watch. “I don’t have time for your drama tonight. I have an evening gala to attend with family. Sophia, Ethan, and I are leaving. You stay home and clean up.” With that, the three of them left. I leaned against the sink, taking several deep breaths before barely steadying my emotions. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in ten years. “Sebastian, I want to withdraw all investments from Maxwell Corporation immediately.” Sebastian was the Sinclair family’s CFO, and also my childhood fiancé. Sebastian and I grew up together. He’d witnessed every milestone of my life before age twenty-five—until I met Maxwell at twenty-five and lost my mind, breaking with my family to become his servant. After I left, Sebastian didn’t marry and have children as his parents arranged. Instead, he kept waiting for me. Every year he wrote me a letter: “My life stopped the moment you left.” “Summer… you’re finally willing to contact me…” The usually calm and composed man’s voice was choked with emotion. “Save the catching up for later.” I cut him off coldly, my eyes sharp as knives. “Within twenty-four hours, I want to hear that Maxwell Corporation has gone bankrupt.” Silence on the other end for a second, then Sebastian’s low, pleased laughter came through. “As you wish, my fiancée.” “I’ll personally fly over with the finance team tomorrow. I guarantee that within twenty-four hours, everyone will regret this.” I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror—the woman who’d compromised herself for love for ten years. It was all over. Maxwell, it’s time for you to return to the slums.

At eight PM, I arrived at the Maxwell family gala, wanting to see Ethan one last time. After all, he was the child I’d carried for ten months. But just as I reached the entrance, a children’s crayon drawing caught my eye. It showed my portrait and a dog, with a big red “X” drawn over them. “Summer Sinclair and dogs not allowed!” Maxwell’s assistant looked embarrassed, stammering at me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. This must be your son’s idea of a joke. I’ll have someone remove this sign right away.” I watched Ethan and Sophia arm in arm at the gala. My grip on the purse strap made tiny sounds, my knuckles white from excessive force. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, I just shook my head. “No need.” I took one last look at that sign. From now on, my heart would also forbid any member of the Maxwell family from entering. “Tell them to enjoy their last taste of high society.” Then, without any lingering attachment, I turned and walked away. A video call suddenly came through on my phone. I answered—it was Sophia. In the frame, she stood between Ethan and Maxwell, protected by father and son. Maxwell looked at her affectionately. “Today, I want to introduce to everyone the Maxwell family’s most respectable lady, my ‘Chief Diplomatic Officer,’ Miss Sophia Clarke!” The good-natured joke triggered thunderous applause from the crowd below. All three faces were full of happiness. But their smiles pierced my eyes like needles. My stomach cramped. I instinctively pressed my lower abdomen—where the C-section scar remained. A sharp pain brought me fully awake. I no longer held any expectations for them. The driver opened the Rolls-Royce door for me. “Miss Sinclair, welcome home.” Sebastian looked at me, smiling gently. “Fiancée, welcome home.” I got in the car, saying coldly, “To Maxwell Corporation headquarters.” At the gala, amid the clinking of glasses, Maxwell seemed distracted. He kept looking toward the entrance but never saw that familiar figure. Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore and walked to the entrance to look around. But when he saw the sign Ethan had drawn, he froze. Ethan stuck his tongue out at him. “I was just joking with Mom…” Sophia smoothed things over. “Kids playing around. Summer wouldn’t take it seriously.” For the first time, Maxwell didn’t respond to Sophia. He coldly asked his assistant, “Did my wife come here?” “Yes… then after seeing this sign, she left…” Immense unease enveloped Maxwell. Given Summer Sinclair’s personality, he could accept her making a huge scene. But this kind of calm placidity made him feel like a bigger storm was brewing. He glared at Ethan. “Who gave you permission to disrespect your mother!” But Ethan said aggrieved, “I learned it from you!” “How could I…” Maxwell’s words stopped abruptly. He suddenly remembered his recent attitude toward Summer Sinclair… When did I start treating you with such contempt? Sophia watched Maxwell’s daze, bit her lip, and took his arm. “Maxwell, stop thinking about it. We need to get back to the guests.” But Maxwell’s unease only grew. He knew my personality better than anyone—how strong-willed I was. This dead calm reaction made him afraid to think deeper. He grabbed his assistant, demanding coldly, “Where did my wife go?” “She got into a Rolls-Royce and went to headquarters…” Ethan, seeing his father’s abnormal reaction, asked quietly, “Dad… did I really… make Mom angry…” Maxwell didn’t dare think further. He grabbed Ethan and drove quickly to headquarters, leaving even Sophia behind. After running thirteen red lights, he finally reached headquarters. But when he opened the door, he saw the room full of auditors. I stood side by side with a dignified elderly man. He was my father, head of the Sinclair family. “Summer…” Maxwell’s heart pounded. My father sneered. “Perfect timing, Mr. Maxwell. Bankruptcy liquidation requires your signature.”

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At the Black Pack banquet, the Elder held up an invitation to the Far North hunting grounds and asked Alpha Kael of the Black Pack, the academy’s chief professor, with a smile: “Alpha Kael, who are you planning to take to the Far North?” Every eye in the hall instantly fell on me. I was Elara, the only daughter of the White Pack Alpha and Kael’s fiancée. Everyone knew that after the Far North hunt, Kael and I would be holding our wedding. I clutched the vow we’d written together when I was sixteen, waiting for him to speak my name. But Kael didn’t even glance at me. He casually handed the invitation to his student Lila standing beside him. “Give it to her. She’s been working so hard on her thesis defense lately.” My best friend Rhea’s knuckles went white with rage. “The four of us made a pact as kids that we’d hold our weddings after the Far North hunt! Has he lost his mind, giving the invitation to someone else?” I smiled, suppressing the sting in my eyes. “The wedding goes on as planned. I’ll be standing in the Far North snow in my wedding dress.” “If he doesn’t want to go, I’ll just find myself a new groom.”

My fingertips gripped the crumpled little piece of hide in my pocket until my knuckles turned white. Today was the Black Pack banquet, and the day we’d agreed to officially announce our four-way union. I’d specifically worn the wolf tail necklace Kael had given me on his coming-of-age ceremony, waiting for Kael to announce to all the pack members that I was his Luna, the love of his life. His fingers held the envelope containing the invitation to the Far North couples hunt. Under everyone’s gaze, he handed it to his student, Lila. There was a tenderness in his eyes I hadn’t seen in a long time, his voice soft like he was coaxing a child: “It’s yours.” Lila’s eyes instantly lit up as she accepted the envelope with surprise and delight. “Thank you, Alpha Kael, for always thinking of me! I don’t even know how to repay you.” She paused, her eyes flickering toward me with a challenging look, then softened her voice tentatively: “Why don’t you come with me? I can warm your hands while we hunt, okay?” Every gaze in the room fell on me in unison. Everyone knew I was Kael’s mate. Everyone knew this Far North hunting slot was meant for our wedding. Rhea jumped to her feet, ready to charge forward, but I grabbed her wrist tightly and forced out a deliberately casual smile. “Kael won’t agree to it.” I gripped that crumpled little note in my pocket tightly. Going to the Far North for our wedding was a promise the four of us had kept for twenty years. There was no way he’d agree. The moment the words left my mouth, I heard Kael’s voice, tinged with amusement: “Alright, I agree.” “Thank you, Alpha Kael!” Lila performed an exaggerated curtsy. As she turned, she lifted her chin at me triumphantly, drawing laughter from those around us. “Has he lost his mind?!” Rhea was trembling with anger. “Lila is deliberately provoking you right to your face! Can’t he see that?” “We made a vow as kids! To hold our weddings together after the Far North hunt! Has he really forgotten or is he pretending?” The more she spoke, the angrier she got, tears nearly spilling from her eyes. I placed my hand over hers and patted it gently. “Sit properly. Don’t get worked up. Everyone’s watching.” Kael sat back down beside me, apparently noticing the expressions on mine and Rhea’s faces. He took my hand, his thumb rubbing against my knuckles, his tone dismissive like he was placating a troublesome child: “The Far North hunting grounds are crowded and chaotic. Nothing fun about it. How about at the end of the year I take you to a private ice field hunting ground, just the two of us, okay?” I gently pulled my hand back. “No need. You do what you need to do.” He froze for a moment, probably not expecting this reaction from me. Then he smiled, withdrew his hand, and said nothing more, turning to chat with the Elder beside him about Lila’s thesis defense. On my left, Rhea pulled out her phone stubbornly and quickly typed out a message, shoving the bright screen toward me: “Rain’s giving a speech soon. I’ll have him force Kael to announce the wedding date on the spot. If he dares refuse, I’ll beat him up.” I smiled at her gratefully, though I knew in my heart it was useless. Rhea, Rain, Kael, and I were the heirs to North America’s four top wolf packs. We’d grown up together, the default future ruling combination in the entire werewolf circle. The council uniting the four great packs was something the four of us had worked countless days and nights to build, fighting with everything we had to survive the most dangerous rogue invasion period, building it step by step. The four of us were supposed to be the closest family. Before long, Alpha Rain of the Rain Pack was invited onstage as Council Chairman. He took the microphone, scanned the audience below, his gaze landing on Rhea. “Next month! I’m holding a union ceremony in the Far North! To marry my beloved mate Rhea!” The crowd below erupted in cheers, wolf howls and whistles filling the air. Rain’s voice suddenly softened, his eyes filled with undisguised love: “I hope to spend my life with my mate and make her the happiest Luna.” Rhea’s eyes reddened, but she still cursed with a smile: “You’re ridiculous.” Rain’s tone shifted as he looked toward Kael. “Kael! The four of us promised a Far North wedding together! Now Rhea and I are getting married. What about you?”

The entire hall fell silent instantly. All eyes focused on Kael. Rhea gripped my hand, her palm slick with nervous sweat. I looked at Kael, holding onto one last shred of hope. As long as he said yes, I could pretend all of today’s humiliation never happened. But Kael smiled and waved his hand, his tone casual as a joke: “No thanks. Too crowded with four people. Too much trouble.” The love that had been churning in my heart completely drained away in that moment. Rhea gripped my hand so hard her knuckles went white. If I hadn’t been holding her down, she would’ve charged up and punched Kael already. Rain awkwardly touched his nose, forcing himself to smooth things over. Not far away, Lila turned her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. Her gaze moved past Kael and settled quietly on me. In those eyes was triumph, and a trace of unclear pity. I nodded at her calmly, my lips curving into a polite but distant arc. That entire day, Rhea didn’t speak another word to Kael. When their eyes accidentally met, the hatred in hers nearly overflowed. When the banquet ended, Rain had planned to take the four of us to the restaurant he’d reserved long ago to finalize the last wedding details. But Kael stopped walking. Lila appeared from nowhere and naturally hooked her arm through Kael’s. “Alpha Kael, you promised me you’d take me to process the hunting permits after the banquet. If we’re late, the Elders will be off work.” She deliberately glanced up at me, her tone sounding impossibly innocent: “Oh, I forgot you all had plans. Maybe I should just go myself. It’s just that I don’t really understand these procedures. I’m afraid I’ll fill out the information wrong and waste the slot…” Kael patted her hand. “It’s fine. I’ll go with you.” He turned to look at me. “You three go to the restaurant. I need to take Lila to process the paperwork first.” Rhea finally couldn’t hold back anymore. She shook off my hand and charged forward, pointing at Kael’s nose and cursing: “Kael, are you sick? This is the wedding planning meeting the four of us scheduled half a year ago! On such an important day, you’re ditching Elara to go with her? Did a rogue eat your brain?” “Rhea, don’t be so uptight.” Kael frowned, his tone impatient. “Lila’s an Omega going to the Far North for the first time. She doesn’t know anything. If I don’t go with her, who will?” “Elara knows all about Far North equipment. She can help Lila pick out a proper cold-weather outfit when she gets back. She’s small, so it’s hard to find the right size.” He even smiled at me after saying this, as if he were assigning me a perfectly normal task: “Thanks, Elara. Pick the best one. I’ll transfer you the money.” Lila also smiled sweetly, bowing to me with bright eyes: “Then I’ll trouble you, Elara!” I looked at the two of them standing side by side and suddenly laughed. Our twenty years of history meant less to him than an Omega he’d just recently met. “Sure, I’ll pick something out for her when I get back.” Rhea looked at me in disbelief. “Elara, have you lost your mind?!” I patted her hand and shook my head. There was no point anymore. Really no point. Kael seemed satisfied with my compliance. He nodded and turned to leave with Lila. Lila walked away with her arm hooked through his, turning back to lift her chin at me triumphantly. I stood there watching their backs disappear into the crowd. Rain stood beside me and sighed, wanting to say something comforting but feeling that all words were powerless. After the dinner ended, I went home alone. I sat on the living room carpet for a long time. It wasn’t until the sky outside was completely dark that I finally started packing things up. The moment I stood, the wolf tail necklace around my neck suddenly slipped off. The instant my fingertips touched the cold pendant, those old memories sealed away in the snow came flooding back.

This necklace was what Kael gave me when he confessed on his coming-of-age ceremony. He was so nervous then that he was drenched in sweat, his words stumbling. When he handed me the box, he said: “I don’t have the qualifications to enter the Far North hunting grounds yet, but I want to give you this ice field first. I promise you, soon I’ll take you to see the real thing.” I saw myself reflected in his eyes, shining like the entire Far North’s stars. I rubbed the ice field stone that had oxidized somewhat, feeling a cold sensation against my fingertips. At the very bottom of the drawer was a photograph. A photo of the four of us together. In it, Rhea and Rain smiled carelessly, Kael had his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him. Four people in their prime. I remembered that day after the coming-of-age ceremony when we sat on the academy wall. Rain had sighed: “After the four of us take power, we’ll make the four great packs better and better!” But I frowned, murmuring quietly: “I don’t like weddings that are too lively. If I had to choose where to hold the ceremony, I’d still prefer the Far North snow. Snow falling from the sky, wolf howls as the best background music.” Kael had pinched my cheek then, smiling indulgently: “Alright, we’ll do what you want. In the future, the four of us will go to the Far North for our weddings together. You and me as one pair, Rain and Rhea as another, how about it?” “It’s a deal!” “We swear by the Moon Goddess!” Four little fingers hooked together, making that vow. It seemed laughable now. To preserve that sense of sacredness, I’d fantasized about the Far North countless times but never once actually gone. I stubbornly hoped that the first time I set foot on the snowfield, it would be with him. Wearing a white wedding dress, stepping into the second half of my life. But now he casually said the Far North was full of people and nothing special. The sound of a key turning pulled me back to reality. I stuffed the necklace and photo back in the drawer and had just sat back on the sofa when Kael walked in. He still carried Lila’s sickly sweet cedar scent. While changing his shoes, he said: “Did you pick out Lila’s cold-weather gear? She’s small, so it needs to be fitted at the waist. Don’t buy anything too heavy.” After a pause, he added a perfunctory explanation: “Taking her to process the paperwork today took a bit longer. She’s my student. I have to be responsible for her. Don’t overthink it.” His explanation was perfectly reasonable, leaving no room for criticism. I nodded calmly: “Mm, I know.” He relaxed with satisfaction and poured himself a glass of water, sitting beside me. I rubbed the wolf tail necklace and spoke calmly: “Today I had dinner with Rhea and Rain. They’ve finalized all the details for their Far North wedding.” I paused, looking into his eyes, asking softly: “What about ours? When are you planning to arrange it?” The moment the words left my mouth, Kael’s expression darkened instantly. He shot to his feet, his voice full of barely suppressed fury: “Elara! Will you ever give it a rest?!” “I’ve been busy all day and I’m exhausted, and the first thing you do is pressure me about marriage? Can’t you be more mature? Can’t you stop being so childish?” I looked at his furious face, my fingers gripping the hem of my shirt, my voice very soft: “I just don’t want to break our promise. Back then the four of us agreed—” Kael impatiently cut me off. “I think I’ve spoiled you too much. You’re becoming more and more inconsiderate! I’m busy preparing Lila for her defense, busy with Council matters. Where would I find time for wedding stuff?” “If you absolutely must keep that so-called promise, go get married by yourself. I’m not dealing with this.”

Early the next morning, Kael had his suitcase packed. Leaning against the entrance, he told me: “I’m going on a month-long business trip for the Council to teach some public classes and help with Lila’s defense.” I understood perfectly. In a month, it would be Rain and Rhea’s Far North wedding. To escape our wedding, he could even skip his best brother’s ceremony with a clear conscience. I didn’t call him out. I just nodded calmly: “Alright.” I walked him downstairs to the neighborhood entrance. His black SUV was already parked by the road. The passenger window rolled down to reveal Lila sitting inside, waving the plane tickets in her hand and smiling at us. Seeing us approach, she immediately pushed open the door and ran down, smiling innocently at me: “Don’t worry, Elara. I’ll take good care of Alpha Kael this month.” Kael opened the car door to get in. Before leaving, he turned back to me, his tone perfunctory: “I’m leaving. Call me if anything comes up at home.” On impulse, I called out: “Kael.” He stopped pulling the door and turned to look at me from several steps away. The morning sunlight fell on his face—still the face I’d loved for so many years as a teenager. But my heart couldn’t stir even the slightest ripple anymore. I forced out a smile, my voice soft but crystal clear: “Goodbye forever.” The noise of passing traffic drowned out my words. He didn’t hear clearly and frowned in confusion, asking loudly: “What did you say?” I didn’t answer again. I just smiled and waved at him. He seemed to sense something, hesitation flashing in his eyes. He was about to walk toward me when Lila pulled at him urgently: “Alpha Kael, hurry! We’re going to miss our flight!” He paused, but ultimately bent down and got into the driver’s seat. As the car started, he looked back at me one more time through the window. I stood there watching that black SUV merge into traffic and gradually disappear at the end of the road. Wind swept up fallen leaves from the roadside, brushing past my shoes. Twenty years of entanglement ended here. After seeing Kael off, I went alone to the hunting training grounds. The snow wolf mounts were still running tirelessly. On our first date, Kael had taken me riding on snow wolves. It was one of the few activities that didn’t require extra permission clearance, but we were thrilled anyway. He’d chosen two snow wolves side by side. “Elara, I love the feeling of two people racing forward together.” He reached out and, in the intervals of the snow wolves’ movements, grasped my hand. “On the road ahead, as long as I turn my head, I can see you. That’s my greatest happiness.” Ding dong— The training-end horn sounded. The snow wolves gradually slowed. I sat alone on the pure white snow wolf’s back. The seat beside me was empty. Turned out after going round and round seven or eight times, I’d returned to the starting point. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Rhea: “We’re going to the Far North tomorrow to finalize the wedding venue. Are you really sure you want to come with us?” My fingertips tapped out a reply: “Yes, I’m sure.” For twenty years, I’d been waiting for someone else to take me to see the snow. This time, I was going to the Far North. To find my own happiness.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “407133”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

When I was eight months pregnant, I walked in on my Alpha husband Kael having sex with my adopted sister Lila. When I caught them, Kael glanced up at me and frowned impatiently. “You can’t satisfy me while you’re pregnant. Lila’s kind enough to help share the burden. What are you making a fuss about?” I couldn’t help but slap him across the face, screaming at him, “She’s my sister! How could you do something so disgusting!” But Lila knelt before me and said, “Elara, don’t blame Kael. I was the one who seduced him. I like him.” I was so angry I went into premature labor right there. Kael left me stranded in the wilderness and took Lila shopping instead. That night, rogues attacked the Pack border. Trembling all over, I begged him through tears, “Kael, come back! The rogues broke in! The baby and I can’t hold on much longer!” “Enough. Stop using the baby as an excuse to throw a tantrum. I’m busy comforting Lila. I don’t have time for your drama.” He hung up directly, then blocked me. The rogue’s claws kept scratching at the tent door. I hugged my belly, curled up in the corner, tears silently falling to the ground. In that moment, I finally gave up completely. Kael, I don’t love you anymore.

The moment I pushed open the door, the intimate atmosphere in the hunting tent hit me in the face. Kael was sitting on the sofa fastening his belt. His collar hung open, and the hickeys covering his neck stung my eyes. Lila leaned against him disheveled. When she saw me enter, not only did she not panic, she actually snuggled closer into Kael’s arms and smiled at me smugly. I froze in place, all the blood in my body turning ice cold in an instant. Kael glanced up at me and frowned impatiently. “Why are you back? Didn’t you say getting the anti-miscarriage medicine from the doctor would take until evening?” No explanation, no guilt, just irritation at being interrupted. Lila pushed him away half-heartedly and stood up supporting her waist. Her legs were still trembling, her voice soft and weak. “Elara, don’t misunderstand. I just saw that Kael has been so tired from work lately, so I came over to give him a shoulder massage…” “A shoulder massage that ended up in bed?” My voice shook uncontrollably, tears falling without permission. Kael laughed mockingly, stood up and walked over to me, his fingertips casually brushing away the tears on my face. “Elara, can’t you be more understanding? You’re pregnant, so I can’t stay pent up forever, right? Lila is one of us. She’s considerate and willing to help me release my needs. What are you making a fuss about?” “I’m making a fuss?” I looked up at him in disbelief. “Kael, she’s my sister! My sister who I raised for over ten years!” “So what?” Kael shrugged. “Look at yourself now. Where’s even half of Lila’s gentleness? If it weren’t for the fact that you’re carrying my child, I wouldn’t even want to waste words on you.” His words were like a hunting knife coated with wolfsbane, stabbing viciously into my heart. I endured the pregnancy swelling alone to queue at the hospital, get blood drawn, and do prenatal checkups. I was nearly hit by an out-of-control rogue outside the hospital. And I was still making excuses for Kael, saying he was busy with work, so it was normal he didn’t have time to accompany me. But I never imagined he was having a great time with my adopted sister in my bed. Kael crossed his arms and leaned against the sofa with a condescending air of having already compromised. “Alright, Lila and I have done it many times already. Crying about it now won’t help.” “I know you’re upset. Whatever you want, limited edition jewelry or company shares, I’ll give it to you. Let’s just turn the page on this. Don’t let the whole Pack know. It’s embarrassing enough.” He spoke lightly, as if the affair was just a small matter that could be glossed over with some gifts. I trembled with rage, staring at him with red eyes. “Kael, I don’t want any jewelry or shares. I want you to kick Lila out of the Pack right now and cut ties with her completely!” I thought my absolute bottom line would make him restrain himself even a little. Instead, Kael actually laughed out loud, as if he’d heard the biggest joke. “Elara, has pregnancy made you stupid? I’m giving you a way out. Take it. Don’t be shameless.” “Kick Lila out? On what grounds? She’s someone the Elder Council is focused on cultivating now.” “Besides,” Kael looked at me with an ambiguous smile, “if she leaves, can you satisfy me while you’re pregnant?” He grabbed my chin, his grip so hard it hurt. “Let me tell you, without me, you’re nothing. Do you think your biased mother will take your side? If this gets out, you’re the one who’ll be humiliated. You’re the one people will laugh at. At worst, Lila will just be called inconsiderate for a bit, and I can still protect her.” I tried to raise my hand to hit him, but he grabbed my wrist. “Want to teach me a lesson?” Kael sneered and flung my hand away. “Are you worthy? Just give birth to the child obediently and be a good Luna. I’ll still give you some dignity. If you insist on making a scene, you’ll only end up humiliating yourself.”

In the struggle, I touched something in the sofa cushions. It was Lila’s underwear. The underwear was torn to shreds and still carried Kael’s cedarwood scent. I felt my brain buzz, and everything before my eyes began to blur. Kael snatched the underwear from my hand and casually tossed it on the table. “What’s the big deal? Yesterday you said the fetal movement was uncomfortable and told me to sleep next door, so I tried it once with Lila on the sofa. Pretty exciting.” “Ugh—” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I rushed into the bathroom next door and threw up violently until even bile came out. Lila’s falsely sweet voice came from outside the door. “Elara, are you okay? Don’t get upset, you still have the baby. Kael just said that next month when I get my official position, he’ll take me to the Far North to see the aurora. Elara, if you want to go, we can take you along too.” That nauseating feeling nearly swallowed me whole. I leaned against the wall, clutching my swollen belly in despair. Why? Why would Lila do this to me? Since childhood, I’d always given in to her. Academy recommendation slots, my room, even my inheritance rights and company shares. I treated her with all my heart, and she turned around and climbed into my Alpha’s bed. I glared at Lila with red eyes. “What did I ever do to you?” Lila hid behind Kael, scared, holding out a bowl of herbal medicine. “Elara, drink some medicine to calm down. It’s all my fault. Don’t get so angry it hurts your health…” I raised my hand and knocked the ceramic bowl away. The scalding medicinal soup splashed all over her hand. “I don’t need your fake kindness!” “Ah!” Lila cried out in pain, tears instantly falling, looking utterly aggrieved. “Elara, are you being completely shameless?” Kael quickly grabbed Lila’s hand, his voice ice cold. “Lila kindly made you herbal medicine, and instead of appreciating it, you hit her? Look at yourself acting like a shrew. Where’s even a trace of the only daughter of White Pack’s Alpha?” “Your mother was right. You’re just bad-tempered, malicious by nature, and can’t stand seeing others do well!” I looked at Kael with red-rimmed eyes, finding it utterly ironic. Since childhood, my mother always saved the best prey, the best room, the best things for Lila. My friends would eventually all become Lila’s friends. Things I liked would eventually end up in Lila’s hands. When I was desperate and depressed, it was Kael who held me and said, “Even if the whole world favors Lila, I’ll always stand on your side.” But now, he was scolding me for Lila’s sake. He glared at me viciously. “I’m telling you, if anything happens to Lila, I’ll make sure you and the baby in your belly suffer!” Lila leaned in his arms looking at me, the corners of her mouth curling into a provocative smile. I stood there, trembling with rage. I was pregnant with his child, betrayed by him and my adopted sister, and in the end, I was the one in the wrong. “I’m taking Lila to the doctor to treat her burns. You reflect on yourself! When you’ve figured it out, then you can come out!” Kael slammed the door and left, driving away with Lila. I collapsed on the cold floor, my pregnant belly making it hard to breathe. Soon I heard the howls of rogues in the distance. I dragged my heavy body and called Kael over and over. He rejected every call. Until the last one, he finally answered. His voice was full of impatience, with Lila’s flirtatious laughter in the background. “What are you fussing about now? Lila’s hand is blistered from your scalding. I’m buying her gloves to make it up to her. She cried the whole way, kept asking if Elara hates her. She cares about you so much. Can’t you be more understanding?” The rogues’ roars had already reached outside the tent. I trembled all over, begging him through tears. “Kael, come back quickly! The rogues broke in! The baby and I can’t hold on!” “Enough. Stop using the baby as an excuse to throw a tantrum. I’m busy comforting Lila. I don’t have time for your performance.” He hung up directly, and then he blocked me. The rogue’s claws kept scratching at the tent door, making piercing sounds. I hugged my belly and curled up in the corner, shaking all over. Tears fell silently to the ground. I finally gave up completely.

When I woke up, every bone in my body felt like it had been crushed. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw my mother, the current Luna of White Pack, sitting by the bed. I grabbed her wrist, choking back tears despite the pain. “Mom, Kael cheated on me with Lila. They left me in the wilderness. The baby and I almost died.” I thought she would at least curse Kael for being a bastard. But she just pulled her hand back impatiently and wiped the spot I touched with a handkerchief. “Making a fuss over such a small thing. Which Alpha doesn’t have a bunch of Omegas around him? You can’t satisfy him while pregnant, and you won’t let him find someone else?” My emotions surged. “But he cheated with Lila! My sister!” “I know.” I looked up in disbelief, meeting her calm gaze. “Lila is sensible and gentle. She helped you keep your Alpha’s heart steady. Instead of thanking her, you blame her?” She had absolutely no intention of speaking up for me, only annoyance at my lack of understanding. “You knew?” I grabbed her arm, my voice breaking. “You knew and you watched them together?” “What are you shouting about?” She shook off my hand. “Since childhood, haven’t you always given in to her? Now it’s just one Alpha. What are you competing with her for?” I looked into her eyes. There was no guilt whatsoever, only dissatisfaction with me. “You can’t keep your Alpha’s heart. Who’s to blame?” One casual sentence, pushing all the blame onto me. In the afternoon when Kael and Lila came to see me, my mother deliberately stood up to give them her seat. As soon as Lila entered, she rushed to my bedside crying. “Elara, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t left you alone in the tent, you wouldn’t have been attacked by rogues. It’s all my fault.” She cried hard but deliberately dangled the wolf-pattern necklace Kael bought her in front of my eyes. I turned my face away, not even bothering to look at her. She cried even harder, then turned and threw herself into Kael’s arms, tugging at his sleeve coquettishly. “Kael, is Elara mad at me? I’m so stupid, I don’t even know how to apologize. I can’t make Elara feel better.” Kael reached out to pull her into his arms, patting her back gently to comfort her. “It’s not your fault. She’s just petty. It has nothing to do with you.” After comforting Lila, he finally turned to look at me. His expression instantly darkened, his tone full of impatience. “Elara, didn’t you hear Lila apologize to you? Who are you making that face for?” I looked at Lila in his arms, tears falling uncontrollably. Kael probably felt he’d gone too far. He casually pulled out a small doll from his pocket and tossed it on my bed. “Alright, I know you were scared. The doctor said you and the baby are fine. This is a snow rabbit doll Lila specially brought for you and the baby. Don’t be ungrateful.” That crude doll wasn’t even as good as what street kids played with. I stared at him and asked, “Kael, what capacity are you speaking for her in? As her brother-in-law? Or as her lover?” Kael’s expression instantly turned cold. He sneered. “No wonder your mother doesn’t like you. Lila is still gentle and understanding. Unlike you, covered in thorns. If I were your mother, I’d favor her too.” I broke down and grabbed the doll from the bed, hurling it at them. “Get out! Both of you get out!” Perhaps out of guilt, when Kael came the next day, he finally placed in my hands the wolf-pattern necklace I’d begged for over a year. His tone carried condescension. “Elara, stop making a fuss. I bought you the necklace you wanted. Let’s turn the page on this. We’ll live a good life from now on.” The necklace lay in my palm, cold as ice. I’d begged him for one year and three months. He never took it to heart. Now that I’d caught him cheating, he brought it out to placate me. I threw the necklace back in his face. Looking at his stunned expression, I said calmly, “Kael, let’s get divorced.” My mother exploded instantly, pointing at my nose and cursing. “Are you crazy? Who’ll want you after divorce with a child? Without Kael, you’re nothing!” But Kael pulled out a divorce agreement he’d already prepared from his pocket and threw it on my bed. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

I looked up in shock, only to see joy on Kael’s face. “Here’s the agreement. If there’s no problem, just sign it. After all, it doesn’t look good for Lila to be with me without a proper status. After you divorce me, give your official Elder Council seat to her as compensation.” “Don’t worry, you’re still my person. I’ll support you and the child in the Pack.” Only after I signed did I realize what he’d said. “Kael, do you still remember what you promised me?” Kael paused, as if trying to recall. Clearly, he’d forgotten. Back then, to give birth to his child, I gave up my inheritance rights as White Pack’s heir. He promised me, “Elara, you sacrificed so much for me. When the baby is born, I’ll personally send you to the Elder Council and give you a seat that belongs only to you.” Now he wanted a divorce and to give my Elder Council seat to Lila. Before I could speak, Lila walked to my bedside with a fake smile on her face. “Elara, it’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you and Kael wouldn’t have fought like this. If you really don’t want to give me the seat, I’ll tell the Elder Council I don’t want it anymore.” Looking at her pretentious act, I couldn’t help but speak up. “Lila, stop pretending in front of me! You climbed into my Alpha’s bed, took my position, and now you want to take my Elder Council seat. How can you be so shameless?!” “Elara!” Lila’s eyes instantly reddened, tears falling like broken pearls. Kael immediately shielded Lila behind him. “Elara, what are you going crazy about? Lila kindly brought you herbal medicine, and instead of appreciating it, you curse at her like this!” “I don’t have a sister like this!” I trembled with rage, supporting my pregnant belly as I stood up. “She’s just a homewrecker who steals other people’s men and things! Who in the whole Pack doesn’t know she climbed into your bed?” I raised my voice. The Pack members nearby all looked our way, their eyes full of mockery. Kael’s face burned with embarrassment. He completely lost his temper and shoved hard on my shoulder. “Shut up! You’re making a scene!” His strength was immense. I fell backward violently, my belly hitting right on the corner of the stone table. “Ugh.” A sharp tearing sensation came from my lower abdomen. Warm blood instantly soaked through my nightgown. I curled up on the ground in pain, my vision going dark. I could only see Kael frantically shouting for a doctor. In the last moment before darkness took over, I saw eighteen-year-old Kael kneeling in the snow, putting a wolf-pattern ring on my finger. “Elara, I’ll treat you well for a lifetime.” Turns out a lifetime is so short. The baby was born two months premature. Even his breathing was weak. Kael stood by the bed, hypocritically holding my hand, his eyes red as he said, “Elara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. Don’t be angry. After Lila’s inauguration ceremony, I’ll cut ties with her completely and live a good life with you, okay?” I turned my face away without looking at him. Tears silently soaked the pillow. After leaving the hospital, I was locked in a villa by Kael. He even hid my phone. “Kael! Let me out! What right do you have to lock me up!” He pinched his brow while applying medicine to me, his expression helpless. “You’re too emotionally unstable right now. Lila’s inauguration is tomorrow. I’m afraid you’ll go out and make a scene, ruining her reputation. She just came of age and finally has this opportunity. Can’t you be more generous?”

My mother chimed in from the side. “Exactly! Lila’s inauguration is a great occasion for our Pack. If you dare go out and make a scene, I won’t acknowledge you as my daughter anymore! Just stay inside obediently. We’ll naturally let you out when the ceremony is over.” For Lila’s glamorous ceremony, they locked me and my weak premature baby in a room without even heating, not even giving us a sip of hot water. Yet Lila enjoyed everything that should have been mine. The baby beside me suddenly started wailing. I touched his burning forehead, my heart twisting like a knife. “Kael! Open the door! The baby has a fever! Open the door and save him! I’m begging you!” I banged on the door hysterically, my fingernails scratching out bloody marks. The crying finally brought Kael. “What are you fussing about now? Not letting people sleep in the middle of the night?” I knelt on the ground holding the baby, begging him without dignity. “Kael, I’m begging you, please open the door. The baby has a fever, a very high fever. If we don’t get a doctor, he’ll die! I promise, I absolutely won’t sabotage Lila’s ceremony. Please open the door and save the baby, okay?” Hesitation and conflict flashed in his eyes. “But…” My mother walked over and said coldly, “Don’t believe her! She just wants to trick you into opening the door so she can disrupt Lila’s ceremony. Children get fevers all the time. Just give him some fever medicine. How could he die so easily?” Kael looked at the baby in my arms, a trace of hesitation in his eyes. But thinking of Lila, his expression instantly hardened. “Elara, that’s enough! Stop using the baby as an excuse!” I laughed, my whole body shaking. “I should stop?” He didn’t understand. “Lila is your sister. Why can’t you be more generous instead of making trouble at her important moment?” Just then, he took a phone call, his face breaking into a smile. “Mom, Lila’s inauguration ceremony is about to start. Let’s go.” I looked at the baby in my arms with his flushed face. As if feeling no pain, I desperately broke through the door. But covered in blood, none of the Pack members passing by dared give me a ride. I finally ran to the hospital. The doctor shook his head helplessly. “Why didn’t you bring him earlier? The baby was already premature. How could you be so careless as a mother?” Holding my baby’s cold corpse as I returned to the territory, my heart turned to ashes as I set fire to the room. In the firelight, the drone of a helicopter was particularly harsh. Leon slowly walked toward me. “I’m sorry. I came too late.”

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I fled with my pregnancy for four years, never expecting to run into my foster brother Diego late one night at the pediatric emergency room. I wore a mask. He didn’t recognize me. His gaze first fell on the child in my arms: “How old?” “Five,” I lied. He touched Jesse’s throat with a cotton swab, then gently pressed his abdomen twice before turning back to his desk to write up the medical record. Mycoplasma pneumonia. Nebulizer treatment and observation required. Halfway through writing, his pen tip paused. “Where’s the child’s father? Didn’t he come with you?” “He’s dead!” I said. His pen tip stopped on the medical record for three seconds. “The detailed examination will take about two and a half hours.” He handed over the prescription, never once looking up at me again throughout the entire process. I took the slip, and the moment I turned to leave the examination room with Jesse in my arms, the nurse’s voice drifted over clearly from behind: “Mr. Diego, your fiancée just called to say she wants to change the bouquet for the engagement party the day after tomorrow to white bellflowers.” Fiancée? Engagement party? My arms suddenly tightened, pulling Jesse closer. I buried my head and hurried toward the end of the corridor. The observation room had only one wall lamp lit, its warm yellow glow mingling with the smell of disinfectant. After Jesse was hooked up to the nebulizer and given medication, his burning body finally cooled down, and he drifted off to sleep in a daze. I sat on the hard plastic chair beside him, staring at the white mist dispersing from the nebulizer. Jesse clutched my finger in his sleep. Who he resembled—anyone who’d seen them could tell at a glance. His eyes, nose bridge, the curve of his lips—all carved from the same mold as Diego. So for these four years, I never brought him anywhere we might run into Diego’s family. I kept this child hidden away completely. At three-thirty in the morning, Jesse’s temperature returned to normal. I wrapped him tightly in his blanket, picked him up, and headed out. Passing through the emergency corridor, the examination room door was ajar. Diego was still inside. He leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, as if taking a brief rest. A cup of coffee sat on his desk, with a photograph pressed beneath it. I didn’t see clearly who was in the photo, and I didn’t want to. I quickened my pace and rushed out of the hospital entrance. The next day, Jesse’s fever was completely gone. His spirits much improved, he sat on the living room carpet assembling Legos. I changed clothes preparing to leave when Raven’s call came in: “Miss Annie, the Thomas Group moved up the meeting. They want to see you at nine.” “Got it. I’m leaving now.” I drove to the company and changed into a tailored ash-gray suit and skirt. The person in the mirror bore no resemblance to the woman from last night at the hospital, frantically registering with a child in her arms. Annie Smith, founder of Smith Medical Technology, with annual revenue of $230 million last year. No one in the entire company knew I had a son, and even fewer knew I’d been raised for over a decade in the Thomas household, that I was once the person Diego cherished above all. In the conference room, three representatives from the Thomas Group had arrived, led by a man in his forties. “Miss Annie, we’ve heard so much about you. Our chairman places great importance on this collaboration and would like to meet with you personally the day after tomorrow.” “Your chairman—is that Kane Thomas?” My hand holding the water glass didn’t move an inch. Kane Thomas. Diego’s father, the helmsman of the Thomas Group, and the man who years ago had slapped a check in front of me and told me to get out of the Thomas family. “Miss Annie?” Director Mason looked at me. I set down my glass and uttered a single word: “Fine. I’ll be there.” That evening when I got home, Jesse had completely recovered, running around barefoot on the floor. After his bath, he lay in bed hugging his little astronaut doll: “Mommy, that doctor yesterday was so gentle.” My hand tucking in his blanket froze. “Mommy, does he look like Daddy?” “Go to sleep peacefully, Jesse.” I turned off the lamp. In the darkness, his breathing quickly became steady and even. I sat by the bed for a long time without moving. Does he look like him? He IS his biological father. The day after tomorrow, Thomas Group headquarters, the fifty-fourth floor of a CBD office building. I wore a fitted black suit and skirt, my hair completely pinned up, full makeup applied—not to see anyone in particular, but as protocol for going into battle. The elevator reached the fifty-fourth floor. The receptionist led me to a very large conference room. When the door opened, people were already seated inside. Three people from Director Mason’s side, a man who looked like legal counsel, and a woman in her late twenties with long hair and delicate makeup, wearing a beige tweed suit. When she saw me, she stood up politely: “Miss Annie, hello. I’m Eve, Chairman Thomas’s assistant. Mr. Thomas had something come up at the last minute and asked me to receive you first.” Eve. The name the nurse had mentioned that night. Diego’s fiancée. She didn’t recognize me. We’d never met before. I was Diego’s completely buried past, the stain the Thomas family never spoke of.

“Miss Eve, hello.” I extended my hand. She gripped it lightly before letting go. “Miss Annie is young and accomplished. Smith Medical has been very aggressive in the industry these past two years. Our Mr. Thomas has been paying close attention.” “You’re too kind.” After the pleasantries ended, we got down to business. Director Mason reported on the previously finalized cooperation framework. Eve took notes on the side, occasionally interjecting with questions. Her questions were all sharp and professional—she was definitely not just an empty-headed vase. After forty minutes of discussion, her phone rang. “Excuse me, I need to take this call.” She walked out of the conference room. The door didn’t close completely, and her voice drifted in from the corridor: “Diego, I’m in a meeting at Thomas Group. Yeah, the high-end medical equipment company, Annie Smith. Do you know her? You don’t? Okay then, let’s go taste the menu tonight. The banquet menu still isn’t finalized. Okay, love you.” I kept my head down staring at the contract terms, reading word by word, but my fingertips were slightly white. Eve returned, smiling as she sat down: “Sorry, personal call. Let’s continue.” When the meeting ended, I stood to grab my bag and leave. Eve walked me to the elevator. “Miss Annie, may I ask something presumptuous—are you married?” “No.” “Do you have children?” I looked at her: “Miss Eve, does this question relate to our cooperation?” “No, just curious. Women powerhouses like you are mostly single.” The elevator arrived. I stepped in, unable to tell if she was asking casually or had already sensed something. Monday, there was trouble at the company. “Miss Annie, Thomas Group responded. They’re adamant about a thirty-eight percent profit split.” Raven’s expression was terrible. “The reason given is that Mr. Thomas personally set it, and they said if we don’t agree, they’ll turn around and work with our competitors.” “Competitors? There are no same-tier competitors in our sector.” “They mentioned a name. Carter Medical.” I set down my pen. Carter Medical—a company established just four months ago. The founder was our former technical director who’d jumped ship, taking three core engineers with him. Their product was still in development and hadn’t even obtained market authorization. Thomas Group was using a shell company without even a finished product to pressure me. They were bluffing. “I thought so too, but what if they really invest? The offline channels in the East are too important to us.” I thought for a moment: “Set up a meeting with Kane Thomas for me. I’m done dealing with intermediaries.” “Are you sure you want to meet him directly?” “At the negotiating table, I’m Annie Smith, founder of Smith Medical. Any other identity doesn’t exist.” Raven hesitated, then returned five minutes later: “It’s arranged. Wednesday afternoon, Thomas Group headquarters. Kane Thomas will see you personally.” “Good.” Wednesday, I stood in the elevator on the fifty-fourth floor of Thomas Group headquarters, taking a deep breath. Kane Thomas. The last time I saw him was five years ago. Back then I was still the Thomas family’s adopted daughter, twenty-three years old. I didn’t know how to apply sophisticated makeup, wore cotton dresses bought from Amazon. He sat on the leather sofa in the Thomas family living room, speaking to me across the coffee table: “Annie Smith, the Thomas family doesn’t need an adopted daughter who doesn’t know her place, much less one who has feelings for Diego. Here’s two million. Take it, sign the papers, get out of the Thomas family, and never come back.” I didn’t take that two million. I left. Only when I left, I was already carrying a small life in my belly. Today’s me wore a sharp suit with full presence, completely different from that timid girl of years past. “Miss Annie, Mr. Thomas is waiting for you inside.” By the floor-to-ceiling windows, a man around sixty stood talking on the phone. Kane Thomas hung up and turned around: “Miss Annie, please sit.” His eyes held scrutiny. Five years had changed me too much. He wasn’t certain, but his gaze told me he found me familiar. “Mr. Thomas, our previous framework negotiations stalled on the profit split. I wanted to discuss it with you face to face.” “Miss Annie certainly gets straight to the point.” He sat down. “Thirty-eight percent was my decision. I have my considerations.” “What considerations?” “The value of Thomas Group’s channels isn’t just distribution—it’s a complete after-sales system and technical training system. Factor in those costs, and thirty-eight percent isn’t high.” “Mr. Thomas, I’ve done my due diligence. Seventy percent of Thomas Group’s after-sales team is outsourced. A thirty-eight percent split should correspond to a mature end-to-end system, not a half-built work in progress.” He laughed: “Very thorough homework. Cooperation requires mutual benefit. Thirty-three percent—I can additionally provide completely free training support for the first batch of equipment, saving you labor costs.” He stared at me for ten seconds: “Miss Annie, you remind me of someone.”

He called my name. He’d recognized me. I don’t know if he recognized me that night in the examination room but didn’t expose me in front of the nurse, or if he only confirmed it later by checking medical records. It didn’t matter anymore. So what if he recognized me? My child and I don’t need anything from him. For the follow-up, I’d switch to another hospital. I immediately called a pediatric director I knew well: Scheduled for the next day at City Central Hospital. Definitely not Municipal Hospital. Definitely wouldn’t see Diego. That evening, I was at home reviewing the final cooperation contract when the doorbell rang. The housekeeper went to answer it and soon returned: “Miss Annie, someone at the door delivered a document envelope. They said it’s from the hospital.” In the waterproof envelope was a detailed lab report and a handwritten note. I recognized the handwriting. It was Diego’s. He’d had the report delivered to my home. He knew my home address—it was in the medical record system. I put the report in a drawer, crumpled the note into a ball and threw it in the trash, then picked up my phone and sent him a text: “Report received. Already scheduled follow-up at another hospital. Please don’t disturb my life again.” After sending it, I blocked him directly. After the examination at City Central Hospital, everything was normal—just a simple allergic constitution. I held Jesse’s hand, walking down the steps at the hospital entrance when suddenly a black Maybach smoothly stopped by the roadside. The black Maybach’s door opened, and Diego bent down and stepped out. He still wore Municipal Hospital’s white coat, sleeves rolled to his elbows exposing the clear veins on his forearms. His eyes were bloodshot—clearly he’d rushed over right after surgery. He’d been waiting outside the hospital for a full three hours. I yanked Jesse behind me. But Jesse poked his head out from my side, his round eyes brightening as he called out crisply: “Uncle!” Diego’s gaze fell on the child’s face, his Adam’s apple rolling hard. Finally he didn’t look at the child, his eyes locked deadly on my face, voice hoarse like sandpaper: “I waited for you for three hours.” I adjusted my mask, voice cold as ice: “Mr. Diego, you’re overstepping. I’ve seen the child’s follow-up results. Everything’s normal. No need to trouble yourself.” I pulled Jesse to leave. Diego stepped forward, steadily blocking my path. He didn’t touch me, just stood half a step away, pulling a folded document from his white coat pocket and holding it before me. The document cover bore the logo of a forensic identification center. The moment I opened it, my blood ran cold. Paternity test report. The conclusion line spelled it out clearly in black and white: Cumulative paternity index greater than 99.99%, supporting Diego as Jesse’s biological father. The follow-up slip in my hand dropped to the ground with a “thud.” My fingertips trembled uncontrollably, yet I still forced out a cold laugh: “Forging something like this—don’t you think that’s beneath you, Mr. Diego? I don’t accept it.” Diego’s voice carried four years of suppressed collapse: “Annie, four years—did you plan to hide him forever? Plan to let him live without a father his whole life?” I bent down to pick up the slip, gripping Jesse’s hand tightly, and turned to leave, my steps almost fleeing. This time, Diego didn’t stop me. I got in the car with the child, and the car sped away. Through the rearview mirror, I saw him slowly crouch down and pick up the crumpled note I’d just dropped—the one he’d written with the follow-up reminder. I’d clearly thrown it in the trash, but somehow Jesse had secretly retrieved it and tucked it in my bag.

I brought Jesse home and locked myself in the study all night. That paternity test report sat on my desk like a red-hot branding iron, burning my eyes painfully. The fortress I’d built around myself over four years cracked the moment I saw that report. As dawn approached, Raven’s call came in, her voice carrying unprecedented panic: “Miss Annie, disaster! Thomas Group unilaterally tore up our previous agreement. They want to acquire us—otherwise they’ll report us to the FDA for non-compliance!” I snapped alert instantly, the confusion in my eyes fading to leave only coldness. Kane Thomas indeed had ulterior motives from the start. If he could chase me out of the Thomas family with two million years ago, today he could use capital to swallow the empire I’d fought four years to build. I immediately convened an emergency meeting with the core team, only to receive even more devastating news. Our core non-invasive cardiac function monitoring patent had been preemptively registered by Carter Medical. Their application was filed three days before ours, and the technical documentation submitted was almost identical to our core code. The former technical director who’d jumped ship did it. And behind Carter Medical stood Kane Thomas. The team was in turmoil, but I remained unusually calm, methodically arranging countermeasures. It wasn’t until the meeting ended and I was alone in the office that I collapsed weakly against the chair back. Just then, my work email received an anonymous message. The moment I opened it, my whole body shook. The email contained all the evidence of Carter Medical’s patent fraud, including transfer records between the technical director and Kane Thomas, recordings of private dealings, and even backend credentials showing they’d falsified application timestamps when registering the patent. The attachments also included internal documents about Thomas Group’s Eastern regional channels, clearly marking all channel partners’ bottom lines and payment period vulnerabilities. I immediately had the tech department trace the sender’s address. The only result: the address was encrypted, originating from Municipal Hospital’s internal network. My hand on the mouse trembled slightly. Suddenly I recalled that over these four years, the company had faced more than one life-or-death crisis. In the early startup days, I couldn’t get medical device production certification. After countless rejected applications to various departments, just as I was about to give up, someone anonymously helped me submit supplementary materials, and certification was approved within a week. The second year, the capital chain broke. Suppliers blocked the door demanding payment. A nameless angel investment suddenly hit the company account, exactly filling the gap. Even last year, when competitors maliciously smeared my product, before I could act, their dirty laundry spread throughout the industry first. I’d always thought I was just lucky. Only now did I understand—it wasn’t luck. Someone had been silently protecting me for four years from where I couldn’t see. Before I could process all this, the housekeeper’s call suddenly came in, her voice shaking badly: “Miss Annie! Come home quickly! Jesse suddenly can’t breathe, his lips are purple—I’ve already called 911!” My mind went blank with a “buzz.” I grabbed my car keys and rushed out, ran three red lights, driving like mad toward home, but still caught up to the ambulance carrying Jesse at Municipal Hospital’s emergency entrance. Jesse lay on the gurney, his little face deathly pale, lips blue-purple, breathing weak, already in semi-consciousness. A doctor ran out holding examination results, expression grave: “The child has congenital ventricular septal defect causing acute left heart failure. We must perform open-heart surgery immediately, or his life is in danger at any moment!” My legs gave out. I steadied myself against the wall, voice trembling: “Do the surgery! Who’s your best doctor? I want the best doctor!” The doctor answered: “This surgery is extremely difficult. The child is young and the defect location is special. In the entire city, only Director Diego from Cardiac Surgery has successful experience with similar surgeries on patients under three years old.” Diego. Those three words stabbed into my heart like a knife. Four years of pride, four years of defenses, four years of gritting my teeth and persevering—all shattered to pieces before my child’s life. I didn’t even have time to hesitate before hearing urgent footsteps behind me. Diego ran over. He’d just finished a ten-hour bypass surgery and hadn’t changed out of his surgical scrubs, sweat still on his forehead. Seeing my ashen face, he simply reached out and steadily supported my arm, voice firm as an anchor: “Annie, trust me. I won’t let anything happen to him.” Looking at those bloodshot eyes, the hatred and grievances I’d accumulated over four years suddenly collapsed completely in that moment. I nodded, tears finally falling: “Diego, please, save him.”

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