I went to the hospital to pick up my boyfriend from work, but in a ward, I saw my fiancé who had been declared dead five years ago. His hands and feet were tied to the hospital bed, his body covered in self-inflicted wounds. When he saw me, he immediately turned his face away, buried his head in the pillow, and cried for me to leave. He said, “Lily, I beg you, let me go.” I vaguely heard doctors and nurses whispering about him. Saying his legs were crippled, his temper violent and gloomy, a freak. My heart ached dully. In the five years since Chris broke up with me abruptly and news of his death came, I had fantasized countless times about the scene where Chris appeared in front of me again. There was the image of him walking towards me with that dashing posture like that summer when we were eighteen, holding my hand and taking me home. There was the scene of him holding fresh flowers running passionately towards me. There was even him getting married and having children, living a happy and fulfilling life. The only thing I hadn’t thought of. Was that the proud son of heaven in everyone’s mind back then, the wantonly proud Chris. Became cowardly, gloomy, humble. Living a life worse than death. 1 When I went to pick up my boyfriend from work, just as I got off the elevator, I heard a painful low roar. Doctors and nurses rushed past me. I subconsciously glanced over, and it was this glance that froze me on the spot. On the snow-white sheets were large patches of blood. The person on the bed was pinned down firmly by four or five doctors. I didn’t know what I was stubbornly looking at. This figure looked like him, but I knew better than anyone that it couldn’t be him. When the emergency bed bumped into me, I came back to my senses from the pain, but in the moment I looked up, I saw the side profile on the hospital bed. It was a pale face, so thin that the eye sockets were deep, lips bloodless. The most important thing was his eyes, despairing enough to suffocate. The moment I saw his side profile, all my strength seemed to vanish. I fell backward caught off guard, hitting the cold wall heavily. Ignoring the embarrassment and pain, I hurriedly scrambled up from the ground, stumbling to chase the person on the gurney. He looked like my… Chris! I stood outside the operating room, not knowing where to put my hands and feet. I knew better than anyone that Chris had left me five years ago. His suicide note had been under my pillow for five years, but I just couldn’t bear to leave. I was raised by Chris. My parents didn’t want me. Since childhood, the only people I depended on were Chris and Grandma. After Grandma passed away, I only had Chris left. Five years ago, we decided to get married. The wedding was set for September, the month we met. But just a few days before the wedding, I received his suicide note. A thin piece of paper weighed a thousand pounds, crushing me so I couldn’t straighten my back, pressing the blood in my internal organs to churn upward. It hurt so much that crying and screaming with all my strength was useless. I read that suicide note thousands of times. I knew every word on it, but even after reading it for five years, I still couldn’t accept it. Why couldn’t my healthy Chris come back! We were obviously about to get married! With a snap, the operating light went out. Not long after, the sound of wheels rubbing against the floor came from far to near. I tried hard to support myself against the wall and slowly stood up. Finally, the door opened. The quilt on the gurney still had blood stains, meandering upward. As the wheels turned, his features were gradually exposed to my sight. I pounced on him almost instantly. “Chris!” I shouted his name loudly, clutching his hand tightly. I couldn’t believe that Chris, who had been dead for five years, was right in front of my eyes now. The person in front of me was decadent and terrible, far from my Chris, but in this life, I would never mistake Chris. “Chris, I’m Lily! Chris!” Soon people came to pull me away. They pried my hands open to force me to let go. I shook my head crying, “Can’t let go! That’s my Chris!” Chris was eventually pushed into the observation room, no visits allowed. I lay on the glass watching him. I don’t know how long passed before the doctor let me in. At this time, the person on the bed was slowly waking up. His empty eyes looked ahead, lost and despairing. “Ch…ris…” I could barely call his name clearly. He suddenly turned his head, his empty eyes slowly focusing. From surprise, doubt, to pain, but in an instant, the moment he saw me clearly, he almost immediately turned his face away, buried his head in the pillow and choked out, “I beg you, don’t look at me!” “Go!” 2 I experienced the cruelest childhood, but with Chris’s company, I worked hard every day. Worked hard to study, worked hard to live. I learned of Chris’s feelings when we were in college. I was targeted by him on the first day of school. Such a reckless person confessed to me directly the next day. The love hidden for more than ten years came surging and passionate. Chris at that time was young and successful. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to describe him as young and frivolous. He blocked me directly in the cafeteria, “Be my girlfriend, okay? Speak! Mute?” I was burying my head in food, cheeks bulging, scared by him into forgetting to chew, only a pair of eyes rolling around looking at him, like a squirrel. Chris had a black face, tone unkind, “Nod if okay, if not…” He raised an eyebrow, “Which hospital is the last person who said no to me in again?” Watching his gradually tightening fist, I nodded like pounding garlic and agreed hurriedly. So our love officially began with Chris snatching a civilian girl. But who would have thought that the arrogant Chris was actually a clingy monster, different from his past strictness and coldness. After falling in love, if I didn’t reply to a message for a minute, he could put out a campus-wide warrant for me. If I didn’t return a call for three minutes, he could detonate the earth. The most important thing was, if I didn’t let him hold hands, he would make a fuss. If I didn’t let him hug, he would make more fuss. I was like a mother, coaxing him every day. Chris especially liked taking pictures of me. His phone album was full of me. I accidentally discovered that before he confessed, he had already secretly taken many photos of me. Chris, known as a tyrant outside, even school dogs would retreat three houses away seeing him, but such a person loved to act coquettishly the most. “Lily, hug me, hurry up! I’m so handsome, don’t you want to hug me?” “Lily baby, your handsome boyfriend needs a kiss from you.” After dating for many years, Chris was so narcissistic that no one could compare. He often shamelessly asked me, “Why did you agree to my confession so readily back then? Did my face conquer you? Did you have a crush on me long ago?” “Tsk tsk tsk, after all, I’m young and beautiful, no one can refuse.” Watching him posing in front of the mirror in Pink Panther pajamas, I held my forehead, “Was that a confession? It was simply intimidation! I succumbed to your lustful power!” “Say that again, Lily Lin, you’re rebelling! See how I deal with you!” Instantly, the Pink Panther pajamas flew around, and Chris’s body gradually pressed down… Chris said he could listen to me on everything, except breaking up. He couldn’t stand those two words. He proposed to me in the fifth year of our relationship. The room was full of photos he took for me, from the first confession, first hand-holding, first kiss… I looked at them one by one. The door opening sound rang. He was wearing a suit I had never seen before, holding his favorite osmanthus flowers, walking step by step. Such a romantic atmosphere, but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was like an interrogation. “Lily, you know I’m a good guy! Marrying me isn’t a loss, so, marry me!” I stared blankly at the person in front of me. Seeing no reaction from me, he scratched his head, face sinking, tone carrying a threat, “If you don’t agree, I’ll!” Spoiled by him all these years, my back was straight. I straightened my neck, “You’ll what?” Chris slowly knelt on one knee, dropping all airs, voice softening a few degrees, “Then I’ll beg you. Brother kneels for you. Don’t know what spell you cast on me, I can’t live without you, can’t live at all.” Seeing me smile, he got more excited, “Anyway, I want to marry you, only marry you. Lily, pity me. I’m not young anymore, marry me, okay?” The moment he saw me nod, Chris said he suddenly felt this life was worth it. Said he finally got what he wanted, marrying the girl he had liked for many years. I also wept with joy because I married the person who loved me most in the world. We were busy like ordinary couples preparing for a wedding, but I received his suicide note the day before the wedding… I don’t remember how I got through it. Walking dead, dull and numb were too light. I just felt this life was completely over. 3 “Chris, I’m Lily!” Chris turned his head away, refusing to look at me, only roaring for me to leave. I only took a step closer, and he actually pulled out the IV bottle at once, rolled off the bed, stumbling and trying to get out while supporting himself against the wall. Spotted blood stains gradually increased with his unsteady steps. I admitted defeat. “I’ll go! Stop moving, please… don’t hurt yourself!” I ran out of the ward without looking back, but my limbs seemed not to obey me. On such a flat road, I fell several times, and finally didn’t even have the strength to stand up. I sat blankly on the ground, tears streaming down my face without knowing. I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t come to find me when he was alive. I couldn’t figure out even more, Chris, who was so reluctant to leave me, who couldn’t live without me, who would rather do all kinds of odd jobs and almost didn’t go to school himself just to let me go to school with peace of mind, actually drove me away the first time he saw me? Dr. Zhang found me downstairs in the inpatient department. Seeing my soiled clothes and mindless state, he frowned slightly and asked worriedly, “What happened?” I turned my head slowly, seeing the person in front of me clearly, I grabbed his clothes at once, “Chris is still alive! He’s right in this hospital! He’s on the third floor!” Thinking of Chris tortured out of human shape, my tears gushed out at once. “He’s in pain, he hates hospitals the most, I want to take him home! Yes! I want to take him home.” No one knew that Chris, who feared nothing, was actually the most timid! He only started to become strong and reckless in order to raise me. Just as I stood up, I was pulled by Dr. Zhang, “Lily, calm down.” I shook off his hand, “I can’t calm down! That’s Chris! Dr. Zhang, that’s Chris! How do you want me to calm down? I want to take him away. He’s not living well here, he’s covered in wounds…” “Chris can’t be discharged. He has severe suicidal tendencies! He will die!” Dr. Zhang’s words were like a basin of cold water poured over my head. I turned stiffly, sanity slowly returning, “You are a doctor in this hospital, you knew he was here long ago, didn’t you? You know better than anyone how I lived those five years, but he was in a place so close to me, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me!” “I thought he was dead! He disappeared for five years, I lived a life worse than death for five years!” I beat Dr. Zhang as if venting. Dr. Zhang suddenly grabbed my hands, eye sockets bloodshot, as if throwing caution to the wind, “It’s him who doesn’t want to see you!” 4 After going home that night, I sat on the bay window for a long time. In the opened wardrobe was a suit, that was Chris’s wedding suit. The red bed sheet next to it was carefully selected by him for the wedding, with the pattern of loving for a lifetime. He had long prepared to spend his life with me. We had long become the most important people in each other’s lives. Chris he… why let go halfway? I hugged the huge teddy bear beside me. It was wearing Chris’s clothes, making me feel at ease. I unconsciously leaned into its arms, tears gradually soaking its clothes. “Chris, you fool!” Early the next morning I found Dr. Zhang. I got straight to the point, “Sorry, Dr. Zhang, I want to cancel the engagement.” Dr. Zhang took off his glasses, eyes full of red blood streaks after staying up late. He opened his mouth, finally sighed, “Lily, do you want to force Chris to death?” “I… I just want to take good care of him, how would I force him to death?” Dr. Zhang signaled me not to be so excited, “Lily, after Chris disappeared, he was tortured alive for two years. His body was covered with knife wounds or whip wounds and even burns, and his fingers were chopped off…” Dr. Zhang didn’t continue, but I had already thought of the worst answer. Such a good Chris, how could he experience these, how painful he must be! “When he was found three years ago, his immune system and organ functions were severely damaged. It’s very likely to get kidney failure, more terrifyingly, contract uremia, or direct heart failure.” “Besides physical problems, he also has huge psychological problems. The proud son of heaven reduced to a cripple, biological parents died because of him, fiancée almost committed suicide due to depression because of him. The double torment of body and mind makes him very painful.” “Painful enough to really want to die.” With every sentence Dr. Zhang said, my heart grew colder. “Chris was transferred here two years ago. He begged me to keep my mouth shut to you. He knew you lived no better than him these years, so he felt very guilty and didn’t want you to see his most wretched appearance, afraid you would pity him, even more afraid of destroying the perfect Chris in your heart. He only wanted you to remember that bright boy free as the wind, and then, watch you live well.” My body was instantly weak. Fortunately, Dr. Zhang supported me with quick eyes and hands, but took me out of the office towards the rehabilitation department. In the special care ward, I saw Chris covered in tubes, relying on countless machines to maintain life. I covered my mouth in disbelief, “Yesterday he was clearly…” “Because of your appearance, stimulating him to commit suicide again. He used a razor blade to cut his artery, locked himself in the toilet, only discovered when blood flowed out. He is dead set on dying!” At that moment I lost the ability to think and act. My whole person stuck to the wall, not letting myself fall. Dr. Zhang put his hands in his pockets, voice cold, “Lily, if you really love him, stay away from him. Don’t stimulate him anymore, he will really die.” “After learning you were engaged, the guilt in his heart only lowered slightly. If you cancel the engagement at this time, he will automatically attribute all mistakes to himself and punish himself with cruel means.” I dreamed more than once that Chris lay in front of me like this, motionless. That was the nightmare of my life. Dr. Zhang turned back when leaving, “Lily, if you want to cancel the engagement, I have no objections, it’s all up to you.”

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The day my boyfriend won his gold medal. I was so thrilled I stayed up all night. I’d baked a cake and was hiding behind the curtains, ready to surprise him. Instead, I overheard him talking to a friend. And with a casual, careless tone, he revealed the secret he’d kept from me for four years. “At the old man’s family gala,” he said, “I’m going to show up with his very pregnant ‘stepdaughter.’ That’ll be a nice little surprise for him and that woman, don’t you think?” The words hung in the air as he slammed the door behind him. A gust of wind billowed the curtains, revealing me. The cake in my hands slipped, crashing to the floor and splintering into a dozen pieces. So that was it. The four years we’d spent together, the love I thought we shared, was nothing more than a long, calculated revenge plot. Our four years of affection were a lie. His promises of a future for me and our child were a lie. His plan to take me home to meet his family was just a setup to humiliate my mother. His stepmother. 1. The night air was bitingly cold. I picked up my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed my mother’s number. My voice shook. “Mom, you told me once that my stepfather has a son who refuses to come home.” “What… what’s his name?” The line was noisy on her end, but my mother’s voice was gentle. “His name is Addison Mackinnon.” My heart plummeted into an abyss. The phone slipped from my grasp and clattered on the floor. My mother’s voice, now on speaker, sounded both warm and piercingly cruel. “He hasn’t been home in years. All alone out there… he’s a pitiable boy, really. Your stepfather mentioned he just won a big award, a real hero for the country! Why do you ask, sweetheart?” Addison’s voice echoed in my head, the words he’d spoken in our living room just moments before. “Her mother was a homewrecker who drove my own mom to a car crash with the stress. It caused my grandfather to have a fatal heart attack. She destroyed my family, and I will make her pay.” The venom in his voice was like thunder in my ears. He really was my stepfather’s son. Tears welled up, hot and fast. I took a shaky breath, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “No reason, Mom. Just curious.” After hanging up, I shakily got to my feet and cleaned up the ruined cake. I walked into the bedroom and found the blue gift box Addison treasured, the one he kept hidden away. On the phone earlier, Addison had mentioned a name I’d never heard before. Vivian. In four years together, I never knew she existed. But inside the box were stacks of love letters, all written in Addison’s hand, all addressed to her. My hands shook as I opened an envelope. The pages were filled with a profound, undeniable love for a woman named Vivian. A single tear fell, splashing onto the ink. I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly, trying to stop the flood, but it was no use. The tears fell relentlessly, a quiet storm mirroring the downpour outside. At two in the morning, a cool draft swept through the apartment as the door opened. Addison, dressed in a black shirt, flipped on the lights, his long-fingered hands graceful even in their weariness. In the dim, warm light, I sat on the sofa, watching him. He looked exhausted but triumphant. “Addison,” I asked, my voice flat. “Who is Vivian?” Just before, on the phone, Addison had coldly sealed my fate. “She doesn’t deserve to have my child. After I get my revenge, I’ll make her get rid of it. Vivian is coming back to the country soon, and I won’t let this woman interfere with our relationship.” At the mention of her name, Addison’s tired eyes narrowed, locking onto me. “How do you know about her?” I had put the box and the letters back where I found them. I only held up the bookmark he’d been using for years. My voice was hoarse. “It’s written right here. ‘A gift from Vivian.’” He had cherished that bookmark for three years. It had come with a bracelet, the one he wore on his wrist every single day. He never took it off. I had asked about it once, and he had just gazed at it tenderly. “It was a gift from an older sister who was very kind to me when I was young.” My doubts had vanished then. I didn’t press further. I never imagined his kind “sister” was actually his secret love. 2. Addison’s face darkened as he carefully snatched the bookmark from my hand. “What gives you the right to touch my things?” he snapped. “Clara, do you have any idea how important this is to me?” It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at me. My eyes reddened. “How important?” He gently placed the bookmark back inside his book. For a man so tall and imposing, standing at six-foot-two, a flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “Ten years ago, when I ran away from home… if it wasn’t for the person who gave me this, I might have died that year.” As if realizing he’d said too much, he looked back at me, his expression hardening slightly. “She’s my savior, Clara.” A bitter smile touched my lips. “Are you sure she’s just your savior?” Addison frowned. “Of course.” In four years, Addison and I had never fought. He was the national hero, the Olympic champion. I was the acclaimed ballerina, a gold medalist from a prestigious international company. The world saw us as a perfect match, destined for each other. But today, on the day he won his greatest prize, when I was twelve weeks pregnant with our child, I had to overhear those words. I had to find those letters, overflowing with a love that wasn’t for me. I had to learn that our four years of seemingly perfect love were just an elaborate lie, a meticulously crafted trap for my mother. The pain was so sharp it was hard to breathe. I had always known my stepfather had a son, one who disapproved of the marriage and refused to come home. I just never knew that son was Addison. The Addison who had filled my entire college life, the Addison I had loved with all my heart for four years. Tears streamed down my face. My voice was a whisper. “Addison… in these four years, have you ever lied to me?” A flicker of panic crossed his eyes. He reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek, his gaze a storm of complex emotions. “Never, Clara. I love you so much. How could I ever lie to you?” Addison was devastatingly handsome. With his captivating eyes, high-bridged nose, and sharp, elegant features, he possessed an untamable air. Fresh off his Olympic victory, he was more radiant than ever. And this brilliant man had seemingly given his whole heart to me. At our graduation, in front of everyone, he’d announced his intention to marry me and start a family. He willingly gave me every cent he’d ever won from his competitions. Everyone said he was a good man. I believed it too. But his next words sent my already cold heart plunging into an abyss. “Next week, I’m taking you home to meet my parents. I’m going to introduce you to them with all the fanfare you deserve.” “But you know my relationship with my father is strained, Clara. I’m only going back for you, to marry you. So you have to look absolutely stunning when you come with me to his birthday gala.” He wanted me, his stepdaughter, to get all dressed up. To show up pregnant, as his girlfriend, at his father’s birthday. How absurd. How utterly cruel. Addison held me tight, but his embrace felt like ice. Silent tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. From the very beginning, he had never felt a single shred of genuine love for me. 3. The next day, I went to the hospital and scheduled an abortion. When I got back, I gathered all the baby clothes I had bought. The joy and anticipation I once felt for this child’s arrival now felt like a crushing weight of grief. But no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much I didn’t want to let go, I couldn’t bring the child into a world of resentment and lies. Through my tears, I threw every tiny outfit, every little baby item, into the trash. When I was done, I called my senior from the dance company. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m accepting the offer from the New York Ballet.” A month ago, because Addison had asked me to stay, I had chosen not to terminate the pregnancy. I had given up the chance to join one of the world’s most prestigious companies, joyfully waiting for him to marry me. All for this devastating blow. My phone buzzed with a notification. A reservation for the restaurant Addison had carefully selected for our fourth anniversary. Right. Today was our anniversary. He had promised me a huge surprise. I didn’t want to go, but a tiny, foolish sliver of hope pulled me there. But Addison never showed up. Soft music played in the restaurant. Outside the window, the city skyline glittered across the river, its reflection shimmering on the dark water. I waited for three hours. I was still waiting when fireworks suddenly lit up the night sky over the river. A crowd had gathered on the riverbank, their faces turned upward, watching as drones spelled out a message in the sky. WELCOME HOME, VIVIAN. I’LL PROTECT YOU NOW. In that instant, I knew why Addison’s phone had been off all night. Why he had missed our anniversary dinner. She was back. Cheers erupted from the riverbank. I saw Addison’s silhouette on a boat, a graceful woman standing beside him. He waved to the crowd on the shore, a triumphant smile on his face. He looked like he had conquered the world. I forced down a bite of steak. It tasted like ash. A stubborn mist clouded my vision. I dropped my fork and knife with a clatter, the memory of the day he’d asked me out flashing in my mind. The confident, vibrant look on his face. “Clara, be my girlfriend!” It all sounded so hollow now, so pathetic. My appetite was gone. I went to the restroom. On my way out, I saw Addison and Vivian being seated at a table right next to mine. Addison glanced around, as if looking for me. When he didn’t see me, a visible wave of relief washed over him. I stood there by the restroom door, watching him carefully serve Vivian, cutting her steak for her, his eyes filled with a deep, unmistakable love. It was the first time I had seen her. She was beautiful, but not in a delicate, fragile way. She had a chic, sharp bob, with strong eyebrows and deep red lips. She radiated the confidence of a powerhouse. No wonder Addison had been so certain he would make me get rid of our child, so determined not to let me get in the way of his pursuit of her. A woman like that wouldn’t be a fool for love like me. An hour and a half later, they finished their meal and prepared to leave. I rubbed my aching legs and went downstairs. The food on my table was cold. I picked up my purse and walked out of the restaurant. Surprisingly, Addison called me back. “Clara, you didn’t go to the restaurant, did you? I’m so sorry, training ran so late today, I completely forgot about our anniversary.” “I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” A cold wind whipped around me, lifting the ends of my hair. I watched as Addison, not far away, gallantly opened the car door for Vivian. I let out a soft, empty laugh. “It’s okay. I forgot, too.” Back home, I sat by the window for a long time, lost in thought. I remembered the little moments from my four years with Addison. I had enrolled in the university’s dance program behind my mother’s back. She had been a ballerina of some renown herself, but because of it, she was dismissed as just a pretty face and looked down upon by Addison’s family. Her failure to be with his father was her life’s great regret. So, growing up, she forbade me from learning ballet. But I had watched her dance my entire life. Ballet was in my blood. Thankfully, my biological father saw my talent and went against my mother’s wishes to send me to a dance academy. After he died, my mother threatened to disown me if I didn’t quit. But I refused. During my freshman year, our relationship hit rock bottom. I was miserable for a long time, earning the nickname “Ice Queen” from my classmates. It was Addison who entered my world, who patiently broke down my walls, encouraging and comforting me. Slowly, I let go of my resentment, focused on my dancing, and achieved unexpected success. By my junior year, my mother had softened. She no longer tried to stop me from dancing. Our relationship began to heal. Back then, full of innocent curiosity, I asked Addison, “You said a homewrecker stole your father. Have you ever thought about getting rid of her?” At the time, Addison had just looked at me, a deep, unreadable expression in his eyes, before laughing. I didn’t understand the meaning behind his gaze then. But now, I think I finally did. He hadn’t just thought about it. He had put a plan into motion. He had used four precious years of his life to weave a beautiful dream for me. All to deliver a devastating blow to my mother and stepfather. But he had no idea. In the twisted story of the previous generation… His mother was the one who had destroyed a real relationship. His mother was the homewrecker. 4. Addison spent a full week with Vivian. It gave me the time I needed to go to the hospital and end the pregnancy. I packed up my belongings in our apartment, every item a painful memory. We had moved into this place together our sophomore year. Just a few weeks ago, I was planning to buy it, to make it our marital home. But before the papers could be signed, everything fell apart. The starry lights on the windowsill, we’d strung them up together. The blanket on the sofa, we’d bought it on a weekend trip. Every quirky lamp and fixture, we’d chosen them all. The home we had lovingly built had become a prison of memories. On the day of the gala, Addison called me early. “Clara, the dress is on its way, and I’ve booked a makeup artist for you. Be on time, okay? I have something to take care of, so I’ll see you there.” I nodded numbly into the phone and said, “Okay.” After we hung up, I arranged for a courier to have the dress redirected to Vivian’s address. I also paid the makeup artist extra to go there instead. With that done, I took a taxi to the airport. The plane climbed into the sky, leaving the capital city behind. I gazed out the window at the endless sea of clouds and slowly closed my eyes. Some goodbyes are inevitable. In the silence of my heart, I said my final farewell to Addison.

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I’d been in a secret relationship with my roommate’s CEO cousin for three years. Today, he hit me with some news. “My cousin is bringing her boyfriend of three years to meet her parents in a bit.” Then he clapped me on the back. “Hey, when are you going to bring your little girlfriend around for me to meet?” I had no idea how to answer him. I mumbled an excuse and escaped to the balcony, dialing his cousin’s number. She hung up on me. When I turned around, my girlfriend was standing in the doorway, her arm linked with another man’s. The smile on her face vanished the second she saw me. “What are you doing in my house?” 1 The question snapped out of her, sharp and accusatory. Every eye in the room turned to me. Realizing her mistake, Isabella’s tone softened. “Matt, what a surprise. I thought you were still on your business trip.” Under the curious gaze of her entire family, I froze for a second before managing a bitter smile, forcing myself to play along. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. So, this is what it felt like to be a secret. The one who couldn’t be seen in the light. A thousand questions were screaming in my head, but seeing her there, so composed, I lost the will to ask any of them. Suddenly, the whole charade just felt pointless. “Just got back,” I said, my voice steady. “Didn’t have a chance to notify you, Ms. Jiang.” My compliance seemed to satisfy her. The tension in her face eased. Dinner was a masterclass in performance art, a perfect family gathering. I feigned an instant camaraderie with Isabella’s boyfriend, Leo. We clinked glasses, traded stories, and exchanged contact information. I didn’t say a single word to Isabella all night. After dinner, I went home alone. I sat on the sofa, the image replaying in my mind: Isabella on Leo’s arm, proudly introducing him to her parents as her boyfriend. It was everything I had ever dreamed of for us. I had wanted her to make us public, to take me home to meet her parents. I would have told them I’d spend my life cherishing her, protecting her from any harm. Instead, I was a rat, scurrying in the shadows. I sat there until midnight, when Isabella finally came home. This should have been the moment the dam broke. Our fights always followed the same pattern: a tense quiet, then accusations, shouting, excuses, blame, and finally, the cold shoulder. But tonight, I felt nothing. The energy for the fight was gone. It all felt meaningless. After changing her shoes, she must have noticed my unnerving silence. For once, she spoke first. “I only brought Leo to meet them because my parents have been pressuring me to get married. He was just doing me a favor, playing the part for a day to get them off my case.” “Mm,” I said, acknowledging I’d heard her. I offered nothing else. By all accounts, my response was perfectly reasonable. But a second later, she was the one who was angry. The impatience in her voice was so sharp it made me look up. “Matt, I just explained everything to you. What is with this attitude?” Her words churned in my mind, a rising vortex of frustration. I couldn’t stop myself. “You asked your assistant to work overtime to play your boyfriend? Why didn’t you just ask me? I’m your actual boyfriend!” “Because you would have embarrassed me in front of them!” The words hung in the air. She ripped her purse from her shoulder and threw it at me before storming into the bedroom. The door slammed with enough force to shake the frame. The bag was a gift from Leo. A discounted Coach bucket bag from an outlet mall, yet she carried it everywhere. She’d shield it from the rain with her own body. The Chanel Classic Flap I’d bought her? Leo had taken one look at it, declared it a fake, and she’d slashed it with scissors and thrown it in the trash. The difference between being loved and not being loved was so painfully obvious. And the joke was on me, for refusing to see it for so long. Her words just now, spoken in the heat of anger, were the unvarnished truth. She thought I wasn’t good enough for her. And maybe she was right. I met her in college, and because of her, I didn’t return to my own family after graduation. I went to work for her company. She was the CEO of Astra Group. In everyone else’s eyes, I was just some leech who got a job through connections, living off her. I was an embarrassment. Leo, on the other hand, was her perfect match—her equal, someone who made her look good. It didn’t matter that I had spent three years dedicating myself to her, catering to her every whim. I could never compete with him. It was time to end this three-year farce. I pulled a spare duvet from the closet and spent the night in the study. For the first time in a long time, I slept soundly. The next morning, I packed my work bag and left for the office. As I was leaving our complex, I got a call from the dealership. “Mr. Shaw? Your car service is complete. When would you like to pick it up?” Last month, Isabella had lent my car to Leo without asking. When he’d returned it last week, he casually mentioned a few new scratches. I’d wanted to confront him, but Isabella had defended him, so I’d let it go and sent the car in for a tune-up. I arrived at the dealership a short while later. The manager handed me the keys with a knowing, conspiratorial smile. He gestured to a small gift bag with the dealership’s logo sitting on the passenger seat. “Hey, kid, we put everything back in the bag for you. I get it, you’re young, but maybe try to control yourselves a bit. And next time, probably best to clear out your valuables before you bring it in for service. It was a little awkward for my mechanics.” Confused, I walked over and opened the bag. Inside was a set of risqué lingerie and a pair of nipple covers adorned with tiny bells. There was only one conclusion to draw about how those items ended up in my car. And I had never, not once, done anything like that with Isabella in my car. Which meant it was her. And Leo. 2 There was no questioning, no anger. I wasn’t even surprised. I removed the dashcam’s memory card and turned to the manager. “Do you buy used cars?” “We certainly do, sir!” I didn’t haggle. We quickly settled on a price, and I took a cab to the office. The moment I sat down at my desk, I heard the women at the next cubicle whispering. “Did you hear? The CEO and that assistant are totally a thing.” “I knew it! I heard she personally recruited Leo and offered him a huge salary!” “Of course she did. They were college classmates. I saw them at a bar together just last night!” Hearing it confirmed still sent a shard of ice through my heart. So that’s how it was. I numbly opened my laptop, but the blank document stared back at me. I couldn’t type a single word. “Matt!” Isabella’s voice cut through the air from behind me. “You’re an hour late. I’m marking you as absent for the day.” As if to cut off any argument, she added, “I checked your time card. Exactly one hour. According to company policy…” “Okay.” I nodded, my gaze still fixed on the screen, trying to figure out how to start the document. My calm acceptance seemed to take her by surprise. She lingered by my desk, her shadow falling over my keyboard, blocking the light. I looked up, confused. “Is there something else, Ms. Jiang?” She crossed her arms, looking down at me with a scrutinizing glare. “Matt, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I was genuinely baffled. I thought for a moment. “I was late. That’s a fact. You’re following company policy, which is your right. I don’t see what there is to explain. I don’t have any excuses.” My straightforwardness seemed to disarm her. Her face darkened, but she turned and walked away without another word. Soon, I was lost in my work, and the hours flew by. When I finally finished and took off my headphones, I looked up to find the entire office was empty. It was 11:30 PM. I cursed my work buddies for not even giving me a heads-up they were leaving. Just then, I heard the click of high heels behind me. Isabella tossed an empty takeout container in the trash and casually sat down in the chair next to mine. “Why didn’t you answer my messages?” I opened my laptop and saw that she had indeed messaged me. “Help me pick out some parts. Which of these CPUs, motherboards, and graphics cards are best for AAA gaming?” “And what’s a good setup for RGB lighting in the case? Is liquid cooling better or air cooling?” She knew I was an expert on this stuff; it was my bread and butter. A year ago, I had mentioned to her that I wanted a new high-end Intel processor for my own work. It wasn’t a hint for a gift; it was a test. She’d been hot and cold with me, and I wanted to see if I still mattered. Her response then had been sharp with annoyance. “You’ve been out of college for two years, Matt! You’re not a student anymore. Stop thinking about video games and focus on your job!” I had tried to explain that a CPU was different from a graphics card, and that for my work, the processor was the priority. She hadn’t listened. Now, I quickly put together a list of top-tier components and sent it to her. She was delighted. After placing the order, she grabbed my arm, and we left the office. On the drive home, I sat in the back, running diagnostics on a program on my laptop. I mindlessly scrolled through my social media feed. The first post was from Leo. A nine-photo grid with the caption: “Mentioned it once, and it appeared. I feel so loved.” The photos were of the top-of-the-line gaming setup Isabella had just ordered. I liked the post and left a simple comment. “Wishing you both the best.” A moment later, Isabella’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and the car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. She whipped around, her eyes blazing. “So I bought him a gaming PC, so what? What’s with the passive-aggressive comment on his post?” “Fine! I’ll buy you one, too! I’ll buy you anything you want, is that what you want to hear?” I was annoyed. The sudden stop had made my hand slip on the keyboard, interrupting the diagnostic that was almost finished. Now I had to start all over again. But I had no interest in fighting. I sighed, restarted the program, and said calmly, “I wasn’t being passive-aggressive. It was a sincere comment. You don’t need to be so sensitive.” Her face was a thundercloud. She reached back and slammed my laptop shut. “Is this still because I asked Leo to pretend to be my boyfriend? You’ve been holding a grudge since yesterday!” “Is this fun for you, Matt? Instead of thanking Leo for helping me, you go and leave sarcastic comments on his posts.” “And don’t think for a second that just because you’re younger, I’m going to baby you. If you want to throw a tantrum, go home to your parents. Don’t expect me to put up with it! Know your place!” “Keep this up, and we’re done!” Her voice was laced with threats and fury. In the past, I would have immediately backed down, begging her for forgiveness. But now? I was just tired. All I wanted was to finish running my program before the code corrupted. I just nodded. “Okay. I get it. You can keep driving now.” I have no idea which word set her off, but she screamed at me again. “Get out!” I looked at her for a second, then grabbed my laptop and got out of the car. I really didn’t want to fight with her. One more second and her road rage might have gotten us both killed. The moment I was out, she floored it, peeling away into the night. I watched the taillights disappear and thought about the past. Her mood swings used to send me into a panic, making me constantly question what I’d done wrong to upset her. I just wanted her to be happy, but with me, she was a storm of unpredictability. I always assumed it was my fault and was always the first to apologize. But not this time. I just sat on the curb, laptop open, desperately trying to salvage my work. Then I pulled out my phone, called a car, and booked a luxury suite at the nearest five-star hotel. 3 Another night of perfect sleep. The first thing I did when I woke up was check my program. Thank god. It ran perfectly. After showering and having breakfast at the hotel, I saw a new message from Isabella. “All the parts are arriving today. Don’t leave after work. Go to Leo’s place and build the computer for him.” I scrolled up. The seller had sent an installation guide with a mockup of the finished computer, including a custom-etched LED panel for the case. The design was a piece of custom art Isabella must have commissioned. The irony was so thick I almost laughed. I was a software developer, not a professional PC builder. I typed up my resignation letter, went to the office, and handed it to HR. The moment I did, a massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Even the stale office air felt fresh. I worked until closing time, packed up my personal laptop, and prepared to leave for the last time. An unwelcome figure blocked my path. Isabella, her face a mask of displeasure. I tried to walk around her, but she grabbed my arm. “Matt, where do you think you’re going?” Her sharp tone made heads turn. I pointed at the clock on the wall, my voice laced with confusion. “Home? It’s quitting time.” Her voice was ice. “Quitting time? The entire project department is still here working. What makes you think you can leave?” “My work is done. Why should I work overtime?” As my coworkers stared in shock, I turned to leave, Isabella’s angry shouts echoing behind me. “Matt! If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back tomorrow!” I ignored her and called a cab. Back at the apartment, I pulled out a suitcase and started packing. It didn’t take long. Everything I owned fit into a single suitcase. The bulkiest items were my desktop computer and my two monitors. After arranging for a courier to ship my things, I booked a red-eye flight to New York. I left my key on the shoe cabinet. A second later, my phone rang. It was Isabella. “My clothes are dirty. Bring me a change.” She hung up before I could reply. A location pin followed. I grabbed the gift bag from the dealership. Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside the door of a private room at a high-end club. The door was slightly ajar. As I reached for the handle, I heard my name. “Isabella, I thought you were just messing around with Matt. Why haven’t you dumped him yet?” “It’s been three years! Don’t tell me you actually fell for him? Leo came all the way back for you!” Isabella’s reply dripped with scorn. “How could I fall for a kid like Matt? He’s annoying as hell. But I will admit one thing.” “What? What is it?” her friends chimed in. Her voice was smug. “These past few years, as clingy and irritating as he is, he’s been completely obedient. He waits on me hand and foot. He’s like a well-trained puppy. I can forgive a little whining now and then.” “Oh, and he’s a ridiculously hard worker. Never slacks off, always takes on extra tasks. For one person’s salary, I get the output of three. Where else am I going to find such a useful workhorse?” The room filled with laughter. “So, Isabella, who are you going to marry? Him or Leo?” “Yeah, we’re all shipping you and Leo! You can’t break up our favorite couple!” Isabella laughed. “What does marriage matter? Marriage is one thing, love is another. If we’re talking about marriage, Matt’s honestly the more suitable choice. He can cook, clean, and he works his ass off.” That’s when I pushed the door open. The lively atmosphere froze. Isabella saw me, and a flicker of panic crossed her face, quickly replaced by annoyance. She said, with a casual wave of her hand, “See? Told you he’d be here in a flash.” Dozens of eyes were on me, all wearing the same expression: they were waiting for the punchline of a joke. I tossed the bag onto the table in front of her. She glanced at it. “I told you to bring clothes. What’s this tiny bag from a car dealership going to hold?” I smiled faintly. “I sold the car. They gave me the bag as a thank you gift.” Someone immediately jumped to her defense. “Matt, are you insane? Why would you sell your car? Did Isabella even say you could?” I snorted. “My car got dirty, so I sold it. What’s it got to do with Isabella? It’s not like she bought it for me.” “And it does have your clothes in it. The ones Leo personally took off you.” “Honestly, you two. You’re grown adults. Couldn’t you get a room? You just had to do it in my car. Do you need me to play the dashcam footage to jog your memory?”

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My husband claimed he’d been reborn, warning that in his past life, my long-lost parents stole my $10 million lottery win, ruined us, and had us killed. He insisted I transfer everything to his name and divorce him to stay safe. Trusting him, I gave up all we owned. The day the divorce was final, he blocked our door, smirking. “Reborn? Parents? Did you really believe that? I’ve been cheating for years. Lina is pregnant, and I’m marrying her.” Then our eight-year-old son Leo shoved a paternity test at me. “My real mom is your boss. You’re just a fool.” They laughed as if I were a clown. I swallowed my words. So, the rebirth was a lie. But the lottery win and finding my birth parents? That’s real. And that boss he’s marrying? She embezzled millions, was fired, and is now scrambling to repay it all. 1 “If you get it, then get lost,” Liam said, kicking a duffel bag of my belongings onto the lawn as if it were trash. “Lina will be here any minute, and the sight of you will just ruin her mood.” “I’m so sick of you,” he seethed, his face twisted with a resentment I’d never seen before. “Always that same dead look on your face. It makes me want to puke. And in bed? A total corpse. No passion, nothing.” He wasn’t finished. “And you, an orphan with no family to speak of, trying to teach me about social etiquette? That’s hilarious. While my parents were teaching me how the world works, you were still begging for scraps in an orphanage!” His words were venomous, fueled by a rage I couldn’t comprehend. But all I felt was a hollow, bitter amusement. When we got married, he swore he’d cherish me forever. After a traumatic birth left me with physical and emotional scars, making intimacy difficult, he’d said he understood, that he could handle it. The “social etiquette” he was so incensed about? It was me, gently suggesting he attend a company party to be more of a team player. I couldn’t fathom how these small, forgotten moments had curdled into such a deep-seated hatred. Seeing my silence, my son Leo must have thought I was planning to stay. He exploded. “Are you just waiting here to cause trouble for my mom?” he shrieked. “The house, the car, it’s all ours now! It has nothing to do with you!” He glared at me, his small face a mask of contempt. “If it wasn’t for the money you make, I would’ve been disgusted to even call you ‘Mom’.” “My real mom is a big-shot executive! She’s going to sell this dump and buy us a mansion!” A mansion. They had no idea. The “big-shot executive” he was bragging about was already drowning in debt after being fired for embezzlement. And my lottery win was real. Thirty million dollars. If things had been different, Leo would have been the heir to a fortune. But it seemed fate had other plans for him. I looked at the father and son, a derisive smile touching my lips. “What you’ve done is called fraud. I’ll be suing. Expect to be served.” Liam’s face darkened. “You transferred everything willingly. The bank tellers, the notaries—they can all testify to that.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Don’t be pathetic, Stella. You have no family, no one to back you up. You should be more concerned with where you’re going to sleep tonight.” Just then, a woman rushed up, throwing her arms around Liam in a triumphant embrace. “Liam! You really did it? You divorced that bitch?” she squealed. “The house, the car, the savings… it’s all in your name, right?” It was Lina. My best friend. My boss. We’d been roommates in college. She came from a poor, rural family, and we’d worked countless part-time jobs together, forging a bond I thought was unbreakable. I helped her get a job at my company, and within a year, she’d climbed the ladder and become my direct superior. She was a frequent guest in our home, always helping with Leo. I was so grateful to her. I never imagined the three of them were playing me for a fool, right under my nose. Even worse, I now suspected they’d swapped the embryos during my IVF treatment, letting her become a mother without any of the pain. Seeing my things scattered across the lawn, Lina dropped all pretense. She draped herself over Liam, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Stella, thank you so much for taking care of my husband and my son all these years. It must have been so much work for you.” 2 Before I could react, Liam spoke, his voice cold and sharp. “Why thank her? If it weren’t for me and Leo, she’d have spent her whole life never knowing what a real family feels like.” He pulled Lina closer, stroking her hair. “You’re the one who suffered, my love. Putting up with this for ten years, just to spare her feelings.” He looked at her with feigned adoration. “You’ve given so much for this family. From now on, Leo and I will treat you like a queen.” The words made my stomach churn. Liam was a university professor, a man who cloaked himself in an air of intellectual superiority. Yet in over a decade, he’d never managed to get tenure and was practically a pariah in his department for being so difficult. He loved hosting pretentious “academic salons” where he and his colleagues would get drunk, pouring his entire salary into fine wine and cigars. The mortgage, the car payments, Leo’s expensive tutoring, the housekeeper… every single bill was paid by me, working overtime, chasing bonuses, keeping our heads above water. And now, with a few careless words, he had erased a decade of my sacrifice. I remembered the first time I met him. I was working a late shift at a greasy spoon diner, and he stepped in to chase off some guys who were harassing me. His quiet intensity, that scholarly charm… I was completely captivated. And for that, I had spent ten years supporting him without complaint. So when he told me his bizarre story about being reborn, begging me to transfer our assets, I didn’t question it for a second. I just did it. I never thought my trust would be met with such a profound betrayal, my devotion turned into a punchline. I took a deep breath, my gaze shifting to Lina. A cold, sharp smile spread across my face. “Liam’s drinking and smoking habits run about ten grand a month. Leo’s tutoring is another five. The mortgage is ten, the housekeeper is eight, and miscellaneous expenses usually hit around twenty. All in all, you’re looking at over fifty thousand a month.” I let the numbers hang in the air. “You’ve been fired, Lina. Can you really afford these two money pits?” “Fired?” Liam’s confident smirk vanished, replaced by confusion. He turned to Lina. “What is she talking about?” I watched, waiting for her to squirm her way out of this one. Lina shot me a venomous glare before forcing a smile for Liam. “Honey, I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve been so stressed with the divorce, I was going to tell you later.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Besides, I have skills, I have experience. I’ll find a new job in no time. And don’t forget… I’m carrying your baby.” The mention of another child instantly erased Liam’s concerns. His face lit up. “You’re right! You’re pregnant with our baby. You should be quitting any job you have, not looking for a new one.” Leo’s face, too, was a picture of relief and excitement. “That scared me! If Mom was broke, what would I eat? What would I wear?” he chirped. “It’s okay, after the new baby comes, Mom can just go back to work.” Then, his eyes fell on a rock by his feet. He snatched it up and hurled it at my head. It missed, but the intent was clear. “You evil witch!” he screamed. “Mom worked at the same company as you! You must have gotten her fired! She didn’t tell us because she didn’t want us to worry, and you just blurted it out to make Dad and me feel sorry for you! You wanted us to choose you over her!” His face was red with fury. “You’re the most wicked person I know!” He then ripped a small, woven charm from his neck, a talisman I had gotten for him, and threw it to the ground, grinding it under his heel. “Take your junk back!” he yelled. “My real mom will buy me something better, something expensive. I’m too good for cheap trash like this!” That talisman… I remembered Leo running a dangerously high fever. I had spent an entire night kneeling in a cold chapel, praying, and paid a fortune to have it blessed by a renowned priest. My love, my devotion, stomped into the dirt. The question I had been burning to ask—Why do you hate me so much?—died on my lips. At this point, it didn’t matter. There was nothing left to say. “Well then,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “congratulations to you both on marrying into such a prestigious family.” I picked up two small, important items from the pile of my discarded life and walked away without looking back. The thirty million dollars from the lottery was already in my new bank account. The first thing I did was book a flight to Scandinavia to see the northern lights. While I was gone, Liam posted a picture on social media: his marriage certificate with Lina. The caption read: After all this time, I’ve finally found my way back to you. No one could ever keep us apart. I liked the post. And I left a comment: “Congratulations! Paying off massive debts is always easier with two incomes instead of one.” Lina, predictably, blocked me. Then, I called the best divorce lawyer in the city. “Money is no object,” I told him. “I want them to give back every single thing they took from me. And then some.” 3 A week later, my lawyer had a plan. “Ms. Evans,” he said, his voice crisp and confident, “your evidence is impeccable. We can absolutely file to have all assets returned. And if you wish, we can also sue for a substantial amount in emotional damages.” I transferred his ten-thousand-dollar retainer without a second thought. Soon after, a legal notice arrived at Liam’s doorstep. His enraged call came moments later. “Stella, are you insane? Drop this lawsuit right now!” I hung up. Three days later, he ambushed me outside my office building. “We need to talk,” he hissed, blocking my path. “Or I’ll make a scene right here, and you’ll be too embarrassed to ever show your face at work again.” A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and humorless. I remembered our anniversary one year when he’d bought me a set of expired, high-end makeup. I’d gone to the department store to return it and gotten into an argument with the clerk. He’d stood by, mortified, claiming I was embarrassing him before leaving me there and driving home alone. Now, he was acting just like that shameless clerk. Liam stared at me, confused. “What’s so funny? Don’t think you’ve won just because you hired some lawyer. Let me tell you something—Lina is the true heiress to the Sutton fortune!” He puffed out his chest. “That’s Sutton Corp, Stella. You drop this now, while you still can.” The long-lost heiress? Lina’s parents were migrant farm workers. I’d met her mother in college; they were practically identical. But Lina had always spun these fantasies about being a secret princess, swapped at birth. I looked at Liam, intrigued. “You’re a professor, an intellectual. You can’t possibly believe everything she tells you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “I’m warning you, you can come after me, but you leave Lina out of this!” He looked me up and down, a contemptuous sneer on his face. “I know your type. An orphan, desperate for love. This whole lawsuit is just a pathetic attempt to get me back, isn’t it?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Remarrying you is out of the question. But… you could come back as our live-in nanny. Leo misses your cooking, and I don’t want Lina to overwork herself.” I laughed again, this time a full-throated, incredulous sound. “A nanny? Liam, you’ve really lost your mind.” He mistook my shock for coyness. “You take good care of the house, and I might consider… playing the husband for you every now and then. Maybe even let Leo call you ‘Mom’ again.” He straightened his collar, radiating smug self-importance. “Considering our ten years together, this is the best I can offer. Don’t push your luck.” Before I could respond, Lina appeared, materializing at his side as if on cue. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then took my hand, her face a mask of magnanimity. “Stella, we’re best friends. I’m willing to share my husband with you.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “Honestly, I’ve wanted to say this for a while. I’m not here to break you up; I’m here to join you.” She looked at me with pity. “There will always be a place for you in this family.” Her performance of a kind, generous victim instantly moved Liam. He wrapped an arm around her, glaring at me. “See? Even Lina doesn’t mind. You can move back in tonight.” He paused, adding, “But just so we’re clear, Lina will always be number one in my heart.” I almost choked on my laughter. Join them? Join them in their mountain of debt? I didn’t have a poverty fetish. That afternoon, Liam sent me a voice message. “From now on, you can live in the storage closet. Rent’s two thousand a month.” The storage closet was barely big enough to turn around in. He wasn’t just insulting me; he was trying to dehumanize me. I deleted the message, blocked his number, and moved on. I worked late that night. When I finally got back to my new apartment, I opened the door to a scene that froze the blood in my veins. The entire place had been stripped bare. It looked like it had been professionally robbed. My hands shaking, I pulled up the feed from the hidden security camera I’d installed in the bedroom. What I saw made my entire body tremble with rage. Just then, my phone rang. It was Liam, and he sounded furious. “Stella, who the hell do you think you are, living alone in a 1,600-square-foot penthouse? Do you think you deserve that?” “I always thought you were a simple, frugal woman. Look at what you’ve become!” “I asked a friend about that sofa I saw on the camera feed. Thirty thousand dollars! Where did you get that kind of money?”

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1 It was the day before my daughter turned one month old. The living room was crowded with family. My husband’s older brother, Tom, wanted to start a small business. He’d scraped together most of the capital but was still short about fifteen thousand dollars. In front of everyone, he asked if he could borrow the money from us. The other relatives chimed in, pressuring us to agree. But I refused without a moment’s hesitation. Tom’s face fell, his expression turning sour. His wife, Jessica, let out a cold snort. “See?” she said in a saccharine, passive-aggressive tone. “I told you they wouldn’t lend it. They’re afraid you’ll end up more successful than them.” Afraid they’d be successful? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Jessica, you still haven’t paid back the six thousand you borrowed last year.” She jumped as if I’d stepped on her tail. “Don’t you dare bring that up…” Before she could finish, a panicked shout came from the bedroom. It was my eldest nephew. “The baby’s throwing up!” At first, I wasn’t worried, assuming it was just spit-up. I got up and walked toward the bedroom. But the scene that met my eyes sent a wave of cold dread through my entire body. My daughter was vomiting thick, black blood. … After a moment of stunned paralysis, I lunged forward and scooped her into my arms. The other children in the room were terrified. All except for one. My nephew Ethan, Tom and Jessica’s son, had just turned eighteen. He was the oldest of the cousins, and the only one who looked completely calm. “What happened?” I roared, my voice shaking with fury. The children flinched, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes, too scared to speak. My husband, Michael, and the other relatives rushed in. “Clara, what’s wrong?” “She’s vomiting black blood.” “Why? What happened?” “I don’t know.” Just then, Tom glanced at his son, his brow furrowed. “Did you kids feed her something you shouldn’t have?” Ethan shrugged. “Impossible. She’s too little. What could we give her besides her formula?” Jessica rolled her eyes. “She’s probably just being dramatic.” I looked down at my daughter. The black fluid was still trickling from her mouth, and her tiny body was wracked with violent tremors. “Call 911!” I screamed at Michael. But before the ambulance could arrive, my daughter went limp in my arms. The suddenness of it all sent me into a spiral of panic. I was frozen, helpless, not knowing what to do as tears streamed down my face. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. A small, dark bottle tucked beside the leg of the bed. Pesticide. A violent shudder went through me. I’d bought that bottle for my mother, who was coming to visit the next day to take it back to her farm. I had stored it safely on a high shelf in the back of the garage. How did it get into my bedroom? My mind connected the dots—the bottle, the black vomit. My gaze snapped to the children. “Who brought that pesticide in here?” I demanded, my voice a low, dangerous growl. My fierce expression terrified them. The younger ones burst into tears, burying their faces in their parents’ legs. Only Ethan, Tom’s son, did something completely unexpected. He smiled. I stared at him, my voice a raw whisper. “Was it you?” 2 “Are you out of your mind, Clara?” Jessica shrieked, stepping in front of her son protectively. “Why are you yelling at my boy?” She glared at me, her face flushed with anger. My refusal to lend them money had already lit her fuse, and now she was exploding. “So you won’t lend us the money, fine,” she spat. “We’ll pay you back the six thousand as soon as we can. But you have no right to take it out on my son.” I ignored her, my entire body trembling as I asked again, my voice barely a whisper, “Who brought the poison in here?” This time, my oldest niece, the daughter of Michael’s eldest brother, pointed a shaky finger at Ethan. “Cousin Ethan did.” “That’s right. I did.” Ethan nodded, his expression chillingly calm, and admitted it without a trace of remorse. While the other children were crying or frozen in fear, he stepped forward and delivered a statement that shattered the world. “She’s vomiting because I fed her the pesticide.” The confession hung in the air, sucking the breath from the room. Everyone stared at him in stunned disbelief. Jessica was the first to react. Her face went white, and she lunged forward, clapping a hand over his mouth. “You brat! Don’t you dare say things like that!” Ethan calmly pulled her hand away and shrugged, a look of complete indifference on his face. “It’s true, Mom. I fed it to her. If you don’t believe me, ask them.” He gestured to the other children. “They all watched me do it.” The other kids nodded silently. Jessica looked as if the sky had just fallen on her head. Feeding poison to a one-month-old baby. The outcome was horrifyingly clear. Even if, by some miracle, she survived, she would be severely damaged for life. Tom’s mind was already racing. He grabbed his son’s arm. “Michael, Clara, I just remembered I left the stove on at home,” he said, his voice tight with panic. “We can’t wait for the ambulance with you. We have to go.” With that, he tried to drag his wife and son out of the room. A primal scream tore from my throat. I threw myself at the door, blocking their escape. “What do you think you’re doing, Clara?” Tom demanded, his brows knitting together. “You’re not leaving!” I shrieked. “Are you crazy? You can’t legally hold us here!” “Michael, call the police!” I screamed at my husband. “Before this is sorted out, no one is leaving this house!” “Get out of my way, you psycho!” Tom snarled. The mention of the police had drained the color from his face. He shoved me aside with a violent push. I was too weak to stop him. I turned to my husband, my voice pleading. “Michael, help me! Stop them!” But when he moved, it wasn’t to help me. It was to pull me away from the door. “Clara, stop making a scene,” he said, his voice cold and distant. “Let them go.” 3 Tom and Jessica walked out, taking the monster they called a son with them. I had fought, I had screamed, I had begged for justice for my daughter. And my husband’s response was, “Stop making a scene.” I stared at the man I had married, a hollow, soul-crushing despair washing over me. I had once believed, so naively, that he was the man I could lean on for the rest of my life. I had been so blind. A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived. There was no more time to think. I rode with my daughter to the hospital, a storm of terror and grief raging inside me. She was in surgery for nearly thirty hours. The moment the doctor walked out of the operating room was the most terrifying of my life. I prayed with every fiber of my being. Please, let my daughter be okay. I’ll give up thirty years of my own life, just let her be okay. But fate had a cruel joke to play. The doctor’s face was grim. His words were heavy. “We did everything we could. She didn’t make it.” Just a few words. But they felt like a thousand knives plunging into my heart all at once. In that instant, my world collapsed. “My baby…” I pushed past him into the room, clinging to my daughter’s lifeless body, a grief so total it felt like my insides were being torn out. The pain was unbearable, and I fainted. When I woke up, the hospital room was empty. From the hallway, I could faintly hear my husband’s voice on the phone. “Tom, Jessica, don’t worry,” he was saying, his tone gentle and reassuring. “It was just an accident. Ethan is my nephew. Of course I’m not going to call the police on him. I’ll handle Clara. You two just try not to worry too much. And tell Ethan not to be scared.” His words were more painful than any physical blow. Our daughter was dead, murdered by that monster, and he was comforting the killers? Telling them not to be scared? My baby wasn’t even a month old. Was this man even human? A tidal wave of rage crashed over me. I ripped the IV from my arm, stumbled out of bed, and burst into the hallway. I snatched the phone from his hand and screamed into it, my voice raw with hate. “My daughter is dead! I am calling the police!” “What the hell is wrong with you?” Michael snarled, grabbing the phone back. He quickly spoke into it, “Tom, Jessica, don’t mind her, she’s just upset. I’ll talk to her. I’ll call you back.” He hung up and turned to me. “Michael, do you even hear yourself?” I demanded, tears of rage and disbelief streaming down my face. I never could have imagined that the man I had chosen, the man I had loved, was a cold-blooded, heartless animal. His own daughter was dead, and instead of seeking justice, he was calling me crazy for wanting it. “Clara, it was an accident,” he said, his voice softening into a placating tone. “Ethan didn’t mean to do it.” 4 Michael stepped forward and pulled me into an embrace. He patted my back gently, his voice a soft murmur against my hair. “Clara, we’re still young. We lost our daughter, but we can have another.” He held me tighter. “But my brother and his family… they’re my blood. Ethan is my nephew. You can’t seriously expect me to call the cops on my own brother’s son, can you? You want me to be the man who sent his own nephew to jail? The entire family would crucify me.” He sighed, a sound of deep, manufactured sorrow. “I know you’re in pain. I’m her father. Don’t you think I’m in pain, too? But what’s done is done. We have to face it, and we have to handle it… the right way.” He pulled back to look me in the eye. “The police will come to take your statement later. You just tell them that our daughter accidentally ingested the pesticide. Then this whole thing will be over.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You need to be smart about this, Clara. Be reasonable. Peace in the family is what matters most.”

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My stepsister, who had been paralyzed for six years, was pregnant. I reached for my phone to call the police, but my father’s hand clamped down on my wrist. “Iris,” he said, his voice a low command, “this child is yours, too.” My husband, Patrick Hayes, stood silently by my father’s side, his silence a confirmation of this entire grotesque charade. I understood. The child my stepsister was carrying was his. Seeing my silence, Patrick took a step forward, positioning himself between me and my stepsister, Rosalie. “Iris, this was my decision, and your father’s. Don’t blame Rosalie.” He spoke to me with the kind of placating tone one uses for a difficult child. “You were never willing to have a baby. You know what people have been saying, the whispers behind our backs.” He gestured to Rosalie’s bed. “She’s paralyzed. She’s your own sister. Her having this baby won’t threaten your position as Mrs. Hayes.” Every word they spoke was supposedly for my benefit. Yet they had acted first, never once asking if this was what I wanted. In their eyes, I was the woman who never said no. But they didn’t know. The time I had promised my mother, the time I would spend taking care of the Lowell and Hayes families, was up. It was time for me to leave. Patrick’s hand was still resting on Rosalie’s swollen belly. The sight was a physical pain, sharp and blinding. “Don’t be mad at Patrick, big sister,” Rosalie said from the bed, a harmless, innocent smile playing on her lips. “The doctor said my body is very fragile. Patrick was just worried that something might happen to me and the baby. That’s why he kept it from you.” She patted the back of my hand, her touch cloying. “We’re doing this for you. You’ve been Mrs. Hayes for so many years, with no children to show for it. It’s embarrassing.” She looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes. “When the baby is born, we’ll register him under your name. He’ll call you ‘Mommy,’ okay?” My father cleared his throat, assuming the mantle of the patriarch. “Iris! Rosalie is carrying the Hayes family heir! He is the future of the Lowell family as well!” He glared at me. “Your sister, despite her condition, is helping you, helping this family. You should be grateful, not standing there with a face like death.” Patrick finally removed his hand from Rosalie’s stomach and walked toward me. He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. His arm froze in mid-air. “Iris, we’ve been married for years. Don’t you know me by now?” His voice was a soft, wounded thing. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you, for our family. I can’t stand by while people call you a barren hen behind your back.” I stared at him, unable to form a single word. Seeing that I was unmoved, Patrick’s patience wore thin. He tugged at his tie, his frustration showing. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop making a scene. I’ve asked the housekeeper to prepare a special dinner to celebrate.” He turned his back on me. “As the lady of the house, you should at least show some grace.” He went to Rosalie’s side, his movements gentle in a way I had never seen before. “Rosalie, my love, what would you like to eat? I’ll have the kitchen make it for you.” Rosalie leaned against him weakly, her voice a coquettish whisper. “I want that delicate consommé. And I want you to feed it to me yourself.” “Of course. Anything for you.” They flirted as if I wasn’t there, as if I were a piece of furniture. I stood there, feeling laughably redundant. Just then, our family physician, Dr. Evans, walked in with his medical bag. He was beaming as he pulled a folder from his bag. “Mr. Hayes, Mr. Lowell, wonderful news!” He handed the report to Patrick, his voice booming. “Miss Lowell’s pregnancy is very stable. And the ultrasound… it looks like a boy! Congratulations, Mr. Hayes, you have an heir!” Patrick leaned down and kissed Rosalie soundly. My father’s face was flushed with excitement. Dr. Evans turned to me, his smile tinged with pity. “Mrs. Hayes, don’t be too upset. Since you haven’t been able to conceive, letting Miss Lowell help you out is just as good.” The room was filled with joyous laughter, each sound a needle piercing my eardrums. I clutched my phone, my nails digging into my palm. Patrick walked over to me, holding the ultrasound picture like a trophy. “Iris, look. Isn’t he adorable? From now on, he’s our child.” My father was quick to add, “But Iris, even though the child will be registered under your name, he will still call Rosalie ‘Mom’.” They were just as they had always been, assuming I would bow to their every demand. Just like the day after my mother’s funeral, when my father brought home a stepsister who was barely six months younger than me. He’d claimed she was the daughter of an old friend, but her face was a near-perfect copy of his own. Just like when Patrick said he wanted a child, and I subjected myself to countless folk remedies and painful treatments, even though I had told him before we were married that my health was poor and it would be difficult for me to conceive. Seven years ago, at my mother’s deathbed, I had made a solemn vow. I would support my weak-willed father and prop up the Lowell family business. I would help Patrick, who had nothing to his name, pave a golden path to success. To my mother, the Lowell family was a legacy of love, and the Hayes family was a debt of gratitude. They were the two things she couldn’t let go of. But to me, it was just a contract. And now, the seven years were up. There was nothing left for me here. I turned and walked out, closing the door on their picture of domestic bliss. On a deserted balcony, I dialed the number of the lawyer my mother had designated before her death. “Mr. Cole, the seven years are up.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a soft sigh. “Miss Lowell. Everything is prepared. On your word, all capital invested in Lowell Corp and Hayes Industries will begin to be withdrawn within twenty-four hours. We estimate a full extraction can be completed in six days.” “Begin.” After I hung up, I felt the rope that had bound me for seven years finally begin to loosen. Patrick appeared beside me, his brow furrowed. “Who were you talking to? All secretive.” He looked at me with disapproval. “Iris, I’m warning you, don’t take the family’s money and make foolish investments. We have a child to raise now. Every penny counts. You need to be more frugal.” He lectured me as if it were his right, completely forgetting that every penny he had was earned through my efforts. I ignored him and walked to the dining room. The long table was laden with food, but every single dish was one of Rosalie’s favorites. Patrick was meticulously deboning a fish for her, so engrossed that he didn’t even notice I hadn’t touched my chopsticks. My father, his face red from wine, pointed a finger at me. “Iris, transfer the Lowell Corp shares under your name to the baby in Rosalie’s belly. Consider it a welcome gift from his aunt.” I looked up at his face, a canvas of greed and calculation. I nodded. “Fine.” My easy agreement seemed to stun them. Patrick was the first to recover, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “See? I told you Iris was the most reasonable of us all.” He immediately took charge. “The portion of my company’s shares under your name… you should transfer those as well. For our child. I know you’ll agree.” Rosalie, nestled in his arms, tugged at his sleeve with feigned concern. “Patrick, don’t be like that. You’ll make sister unhappy.” My father scoffed. “Unhappy? She’s thrilled! Aren’t you, Iris? Come on, raise a glass to Rosalie and say a few words of blessing.” Patrick picked up a glass of red wine and held it out to me. “I can’t drink,” I said. Patrick’s face darkened instantly. “What do you mean, you can’t? What about the Southside project, when you drank until you had stomach bleeding? You didn’t say you couldn’t drink then.” My father chimed in. “Exactly. You’ve been drinking at business dinners for years. As I recall, you were more than happy to do it then. You fought for the chance.” For years, one of them had to maintain the image of the refined CEO, the other the dignified chairman. The dirty work of groveling and schmoozing naturally fell to me. Six more days, I counted silently in my head. I took the glass Patrick was practically shoving in my face and turned to Rosalie. The triumphant smirk on her face was impossible to miss. I raised my glass. “I wish you,” I said, enunciating each word, “get everything you’ve ever wanted.” Later that night, a searing pain in my stomach ripped me from a nightmare. Cold sweat soaked through my pajamas. I curled into a ball, every breath a sharp agony. I fumbled on the nightstand for my painkillers, but my hand met only empty space. Then I remembered. The housekeeper had cleared out all the medicine in the house, claiming the smell bothered Rosalie. The huge villa was silent. They were probably all in Rosalie’s room, fussing over her. I struggled out of bed and drove myself to the hospital. In the emergency room, the doctor looked at my chart, his brow furrowed in concern. “How did you let it get this bad again? Didn’t I tell you to take care of yourself?” He looked up at me, his tone reproachful. “Isn’t Mr. Hayes keeping an eye on you? The last time he was here, he begged me to do whatever it took to get you well.” I felt a pang of something distant. The first time my stomach had given out, I had ended up here. Patrick had carried me into the ER, his eyes red with panic, grabbing the doctor’s arm and asking again and again what he could do. After I was discharged, he hid all my work files and cooked porridge for me himself. He was constantly at the hospital, discussing my diet with the doctor. He had truly loved me then. But that love had vanished. Perhaps I was too busy. Too busy to notice anyone’s feelings. I remembered the last time Patrick and I had fought. I had worked for three days straight on a project, without sleep, and missed a trip we had planned. He had exploded at me, the first time he had ever raised his voice like that. He called me a cold-blooded monster who only cared about work, a woman who had failed in her duties as a wife. I was stunned at the time. I was just trying to be like my mother, to give them a better life. What had I done wrong? Running two companies was exhausting. There was never time to think. By the time I looked up, everything had changed. My phone vibrated, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a text from Patrick. “Dad and I are taking Rosalie on a vacation to cheer her up. Wire six million from the company account.” I replied with a simple “Okay,” just as I always had. Then I messaged the CFO and authorized an unlimited spending limit for them. It wouldn’t be my company for much longer. A cash flow crisis wasn’t my problem. The doctor was still talking. “You have to follow my instructions. You can’t keep abusing your body like this.” I nodded firmly. “I will, doctor. It won’t happen again.” From now on, I would live only for myself. I stayed in the hospital for a few days. Patrick never called. The only call I received was from a very nervous CFO. “Ms. Lowell, Mr. Hayes’s expenses… at the overseas resort… they’ve exceeded ten million. If this continues, the company’s cash flow will be completely depleted.” I leaned against my pillow, staring at the gray sky outside. “Let them.” The CFO was frantic. “But Ms. Lowell, the first payment for the Southside project is due. If we use that money, we’ll be in breach of contract!” “Do Mr. Hayes and Mr. Lowell know about this?” He hesitated. “They said it was fine. They said you were here, that you would handle it.” I let out a soft laugh. “Then let’s default.” I hung up and checked myself out of the hospital. Today was the seventh anniversary of my mother’s death. It was also the last day of my promise. I bought a bouquet of white roses, her favorite, and drove to the cemetery in the West Hills. But as I stood before the familiar plot, I froze. The photo on the headstone was of a stranger. The name carved into the marble was Linda. Rosalie’s biological mother. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I heard the sound of Patrick and Rosalie’s laughter behind me. “Sister, you’re here so early.” Patrick was carefully pushing Rosalie’s wheelchair, making sure she wasn’t jostled. I pointed a trembling finger at the cold stone. “Where is my mother?” Patrick frowned, clearly displeased with my tone. “Iris, keep your voice down. You’ll frighten Rosalie.” He moved to shield her before explaining in a slow, deliberate voice, “Rosalie had a dream a few days ago. She said Linda was cold and alone. I had someone look into it, and your mother’s plot was a rare, sun-facing piece of land… so we moved Linda here.”

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1 In the gilded cages of high society, everyone knows you don’t mess with a married man. Except, apparently, for my husband. Not only is he devastatingly handsome, with legs for days and the lean, hard body of a god, but his wife? A total pushover. You could fool around with him right in front of her, and she wouldn’t do a thing. “I heard Mrs. Leech used to be a real tigress. Felix couldn’t even hire a female assistant without her raising hell with the entire Leech family council.” “That was just Felix spoiling her. He’s tired of that game now. Look at her, meek as a mouse.” My best friend, visiting me for the afternoon, overheard the whispers. She was furious, ready to drag me to a lawyer’s office to divorce Felix Leech on the spot. I quickly stopped her. “First,” I said, my voice low, “he has no idea I had him sterilized. He can’t produce an heir to challenge our son’s inheritance.” “Second, the more he plays around, the more power over the Leech empire falls into my hands.” “And third, he’s drinking and screwing his way to an early grave. Why would I divorce a man who’s doing all my work for me? I should be thanking him.” … My friend left, satisfied. But when I walked into my own home, the scene on the living room sofa froze me in place. Felix’s back was to me. The woman straddling his lap was… She seemed to startle, shrinking back into his arms as if she’d just noticed me. Felix’s broad chest enveloped her, and he patted her back reassuringly. “It’s fine,” he murmured. “She won’t dare do anything.” The girl’s eyes were misty, whether from passion or fear, I couldn’t tell. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t know you had a wife.” “Is that right?” For the first time ever, I interrupted one of Felix’s affairs. Not because my heart was breaking. But because I was genuinely shocked. I could understand strangers not knowing, but this girl? How could she not know? I remembered her in the orphanage, her eyes sparkling as she told me she wanted to be a woman who could stand tall on her own two feet. I took her in. I called in favors, sent her to the best business schools abroad. She grew exactly according to the plan I’d laid out for her. She used to fume with righteous anger whenever she heard rumors of Felix’s cheating. She once spat on a photograph of him. I wouldn’t have cared who was on his lap. But Lily? That was something I couldn’t quite accept. Didn’t she promise me she was going to be a woman who could stand tall? “But I heard… I heard your wife is a notorious tigress. I’m scared…” Lily trembled in his arms. Felix draped his jacket over her bare shoulders, then stood, positioning himself between us. “I’m the one who pursued her,” he said, his voice hard. “If you have a problem, you take it up with me.” My gaze lingered on the girl behind him for a moment longer. I sighed. I turned and walked into the bedroom. As the door clicked shut, I heard his voice, soft and coaxing. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. The whole ‘tigress’ thing is ancient history. She won’t touch you now.” I leaned against the window, exhaling a slow plume of smoke. He wasn’t wrong. When we first got married, I was a different woman. If Felix so much as looked at another woman for too long, I’d make him regret it for a week. Hiring a new female assistant? That was grounds for me to call a full meeting with the Leech family elders. His friends all laughed, saying he’d married a shrew. He would just smile and say a happy wife meant a happy life, and that they were all just jealous. He loved spoiling me, indulging my every whim, and he forbade anyone from calling me a tigress. Under my “strict supervision,” his business flourished. Then, one day, out of nowhere, he changed. “Are you ever going to let up?” he’d snarled, his patience finally snapping. It hit me then. Felix wasn’t that small-time business owner anymore. He was Felix Leech, CEO. A man with his own pride, his own power. He stopped hiding the lipstick stains on his collar. He fired the brilliant executive assistant I’d handpicked for him and replaced her with a string of pretty faces he preferred. The women came and went, a revolving door of faces. And those same friends who once called me a tigress now clapped him on the back. “Now that’s more like it! This is how a man should live!” From the living room, the woman’s moans grew deliberately louder. I hadn’t realized Lily was the type to gloat. I slipped in my earbuds and said nothing. After it was all over, Lily, wrapped in nothing but a towel, knocked on my door. “Aurora,” she began, “I… I want to explain.” 2 “Oh, don’t bother.” I tried to step past her, but she blocked my way. “I used to hate him, I really did! But…” She paused. I stared at her, waiting. She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for a confession. “But one day, I realized that what I could kill myself trying to achieve, I could get just by spending one night in his bed.” “And that,” she added, a new hardness in her eyes, “is something you could never give me.” “I told you I wanted to stand tall, to make it on my own. Well, my body is a resource, too. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to use it?” She finished, watching my face, clearly expecting a reaction. I gave her none. I just held her gaze for a long moment. Then, I nodded. And walked around her. “Aurora!” she called out from behind me. “Are you looking down on me? Is that why you won’t even talk to me?” “You’re overthinking it,” I said, my voice perfectly level, as placid as the day I first saw Felix bring another woman home. That day, I had calmly walked away. I took the expensive gifts he’d bought to appease me over the years and donated them all to charity. Then, while he was under anesthesia for a routine endoscopy, I gave my associate at the hospital a quiet order. A small, secondary procedure. To ensure his infidelity would never threaten my son’s future. If I couldn’t stop people from changing, then I would, at the very least, protect the things that shouldn’t. Like power. Like wealth. Like my son’s inheritance. But this time, Felix went too far. He found me in my office, his expression grave. “I’ve been thinking. I want you to transfer your authority as acting CEO to Lily.” My hand, poised over a document, froze. “Her?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “A fresh college graduate?” “I know she lacks experience. That’s why you’ll stay by her side, guide her. You can teach her what she doesn’t know, and if she makes a mistake, you’ll be there to fix it.” I closed the folder in front of me. Now I understood what Lily meant by what she could get from him that I couldn’t. It was true. This power I held, maybe one night with Felix really was the price. A price Lily could pay. But for me, his wife of so many years, that currency was worthless. The only card I had left to play was our history. So I tried to cry. But the tears wouldn’t come. I had to force them, dredging up memories from a lifetime ago. Me at fifteen, kicked out by my stepfather, and Felix holding an umbrella over my head in the pouring rain. My mother’s funeral, the depression a black fog around me, and Felix patiently helping me dress, combing my hair. The nights my stepfather wouldn’t feed me, and Felix showing up with a hot potato hidden in his coat, burning his own skin just so I could have something warm to eat. A single tear finally escaped, landing with a soft plink on the polished desk. He flinched. I quickly wiped my eyes. “Felix,” I whispered, my voice thick with a broken strength, “how did we get here?” “Aurora?” He looked stunned, taking a step toward me. I dabbed at my eyes more furiously, my tone defiant. “I thought we at least had our past. I thought, as long as I didn’t make waves, I could at least grow old with you. But it seems I overestimated my own worth.” He stood frozen for a long moment. Then he reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from my cheek. “Forget I said anything.” My power was safe. But my relief didn’t last long. Three days later, he burst into my office, his eyes wild and bloodshot. He grabbed my hands, his grip desperate. “Lily ran off! She’s gone! Aurora, I’m begging you, for the love of God, just give her the position!” 3 So Lily had run away. No calls, no texts, location services turned off. A classic move for a girl trying to make a point, and one with a surprisingly high success rate. And it was working perfectly. Felix was a complete wreck. He revoked my position as acting CEO on the spot. This time, my tears were useless. Because wherever Lily was, she was clearly crying much harder. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling a cool stream of smoke. She still didn’t understand. Felix’s approval meant nothing without the family’s. One phone call from Felix’s father was all it took. That evening, thirty or forty members of the Leech family council convened. “If you dare put that woman in charge of Leech Industries,” the old man thundered, “we’ll dare to make sure she has a very permanent, very fatal accident!” Felix might be a fool, but the Leech elders were not. They remembered how, under my rod-and-stick discipline, he’d transformed from a good-for-nothing playboy into a capable CEO. They had also seen how, after he’d reverted to his old ways, I’d seamlessly taken the reins, managing the company with an iron fist. Under the patriarch’s unyielding gaze, Felix knelt on the floor, his hands clenched so tight they trembled. He looked over at me, kneeling beside him as tradition dictated. Through gritted teeth, he spat out a single word. “Bitch.” Even after all these years, even with a heart I thought was long dead, that word sent a shiver through me. If the teenage girl I once was could see this, see the boy she called her protector say that to her, she never would have believed it. I stood up and walked out. It was snowing outside. I passed a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts. Someone called my name from behind. “Aurora!” I stopped. Felix caught up to me, his jaw tight. “I’m sorry…” I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking. No matter how much Felix doted on her, Lily was no match for the entire Leech dynasty. So, I remained secure in my position. But Lily was not one to give up easily. I was working late one evening, and as I walked to my car, she ambushed me. A cloth, soaked in something sweet and cloying, was pressed over my nose and mouth. Rough hands dragged me into a vehicle. Through a dizzying haze, I could see Lily at the wheel, on the phone. “Yeah, we’re ten minutes from the Elysium Club. Get the men ready.” She hung up and her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “You think you can use the Leech family to bully me, don’t you, Aurora? What do you think they’ll do when they find out you’re a promiscuous whore? Will they still protect you then? And what about your precious son, studying abroad? Maybe they’ll start to wonder if he’s…” She let out a sharp, cruel laugh. “Tsk! Maybe they’ll wonder if he’s even a real Leech.” I was a dead weight in the back seat, with no strength to even reach for my phone. I could only watch as the GPS navigation ticked closer and closer to the Elysium Club. My last resort, my only hope, was the emergency call feature on my watch. Felix wasn’t my emergency contact. He probably wouldn’t have had time for me anyway. I pressed the button, and the world faded to black. Through the fog, I heard Lily’s frantic shrieks. “Who are you! Who gave you the right to stop my car!” SMACK! “Ah! You hit me! You actually hit me!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Leech mansion. My emergency contacts were Felix’s mother and father. I felt weak as I stepped out of the bedroom. Downstairs, nearly the entire family council was assembled. Lily was thrown to the floor in front of Felix’s father, a dashcam recording playing on a large screen beside her. “You dare to lay a hand on the Matriarch of this family? You must have a death wish!” “No, that’s not… I…” Lily had never faced the full, terrifying might of the Leech dynasty. Cowering before their collective glare, she burst into tears. “No! Let go of me! Ahh!” As two bodyguards seized her, she looked up and saw me standing on the landing. “Aurora! Help me! Sister, please!” Just like countless times before, she instinctively cried out to me when she was in danger, completely forgetting that this time, she was the one who had put me there. I turned my head away. “Aurora!” Her sobs were more desperate than I’d ever heard. Just then, the front doors burst open. Felix stormed in, kicking away one of the guards. “Esteemed elders,” he declared, his voice ringing with defiance, “if you want to touch her, you’ll have to go through me first.” “Felix.” I looked down at him from the top of the stairs. “Do you have any idea what she just did to me?” He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m sorry, Aurora. But… she’s pregnant.” I froze. “It’s mine.” My jaw dropped.

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Eight years with Leo, and we still had nothing. One hand held my cancer diagnosis; the other, a $300 bank balance. “I can’t live like this anymore,” I said. “One last concert, then we’re done.” Leo quietly moved the only egg from his soup into my bowl. “Okay.” That night, as I packed, he sat chain-smoking, the scent of his sadness seeping through our thin walls. At the concert, the spotlight found us in the crowd. Everyone cheered for a kiss, but Leo hid his face and wouldn’t get up. I thought it was over—he didn’t even want to be seen with me. Days later, craving to see him, I went to his office. The receptionist stopped me: “You’ll need an appointment to see our CEO.” I stood frozen, clutching my painkillers. Since when did I need permission to see him? 01 Leo and I were dirt poor. We barely had two cents to rub together. How could he possibly be a CEO? I didn’t believe it. Not until I looked through the glass wall of a conference room and saw him. He was dressed in a tailored suit, and beside him, a young woman in a yellow sundress was playfully shaking his arm. “I don’t care! You promised you’d take me to the movies,” she pouted. “If you’re backing out now, you have to make it up to me!” Leo just smiled, a look of helpless indulgence on his face. “Alright, alright. What was that bag you were looking at the other day? The forty-thousand-dollar one?” The girl instantly beamed, jumping up to hug him and planting a light kiss by his ear. Leo pulled out a credit card and patted her head affectionately. “You’re such a handful,” he laughed. I watched them, feeling like I was trapped in a dream. Forty thousand dollars. That would have paid for a whole year of the cheap takeout noodles we survived on in that tiny apartment. All these years, I never talked to him about money, afraid of putting more pressure on him. The only time I did was the night I got my diagnosis. I clutched the paper and tried to sound lighthearted. “The cheapest prescription is forty-three hundred a bottle. It’s insane. But there’s a guy selling generics downstairs from the hospital for eighteen hundred. I could save more than half!” I forced a laugh. “What do you think? I could deliver food during the day and drive for Uber at night. Maybe I’d even last long enough for you to marry me, ha ha.” We were face to face, but the silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear him breathe. My nails dug into my palm, the diagnostic report growing damp with my sweat. I wanted to say it with a smile, but a sob was caught in my throat. Just before the tears could fall, his phone rang. I quickly pushed him away, my eyes red. Just let it go. I was dying. The last thing I should do is drag him down with me. Today, I’d worked up the courage to see him just to say a proper goodbye. That would have been enough. But now, watching him drop a fortune on another girl without a second thought, a red-hot wire twisted in my stomach, the pain so sharp it made me gag. Forty thousand dollars. That was enough for so many bottles of medicine. Enough for so many more years with him. The glass reflected my own face back at me—pale, my lips chapped and colorless. Inside, the girl was vibrant and glowing, her eyes sparkling. People are drawn to beautiful things. So, in that moment of silence a few nights ago, was he thinking about how I was about to die? Or was he thinking about how he was going to charm this girl when he got back to the office? I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to know anymore. The conference room door slid open, and the girl walked out, her eyes crinkling with a smile. She paused when she saw me, her expression curious but still friendly. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Mia, Mr. Sterling’s assistant. Can I help you with something?” My eyes were fixed on the red cord bracelet on her wrist. It was identical to the one Leo wore. 02 My stomach problems had started three months ago. One night, the pain was particularly bad. As I fumbled in the dark for some water, my hand brushed against two red cord bracelets on the nightstand. A small wooden charm was attached to each, carved with intricate symbols. A coworker had told me about these. You had to hike thousands of steps up a mountain to a remote shrine to get them. They were meant to protect the wearer’s health and bring peace. One was five hundred dollars. Two of them were a thousand. That was enough to cover our instant noodle budget for three months. I was both angry and touched. Angry that he’d spent money we didn’t have, but as my fingers traced the wooden charm, a sweet warmth spread through my chest, and even the pain in my stomach seemed to fade. I slipped one of the bracelets onto my wrist, already planning how I’d playfully scold him in the morning. “You can’t just throw money away like that,” I’d say. But the next morning, I woke up to find him standing over the bed, his face a thunderous mask. “That’s not for you,” he said, his voice cold. “Give it back.” “Hannah, don’t be so greedy. You can’t have everything.” So, that’s who it was for. The girl standing in front of me now. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and forced a smile. “Your boss… Mr. Sterling… he seems to take good care of his employees, doesn’t he?” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. Even though he comes from a wealthy family, he’s very down-to-earth. He’s been incredibly kind to me.” Her voice was soft and sweet as she pulled out her phone and started swiping through photos. There they were at a fancy restaurant, at Disneyland, at all the places I could never afford to go, their smiles wide and genuine. “He gives me a huge bonus every Christmas, and when he found out I’d studied abroad, he started giving me one for the Lunar New Year too. He gave me this bracelet,” she said, touching the red cord. “I was getting sick all the time.” “Once, another company tried to poach me. Can you believe it? He showed me the company’s financials, and even his personal bank statements, just to convince me to stay!” Mia covered her mouth, giggling. “I told him, ‘You’re only supposed to show your bank account to your girlfriend! Why are you showing me?’ He just stared at me for the longest time and said, ‘I just want you to know…’” She blushed, then looked up at me. “You seem to know him well. Has he ever been this thoughtful with any other girl? What do you think he means by all this?” The pain in my stomach sharpened, like a knife twisting. I pressed a hand against my abdomen, struggling to swallow the metallic taste rising in my throat. I didn’t know about his bank account. I didn’t know about his wealthy family. In his mind, I wasn’t even his girlfriend. What right did I have to be jealous? I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly, seeing Leo didn’t seem so important anymore. I straightened up, my voice barely a whisper. “Could you please tell Mr. Sterling for me… that I need the watch back.” “And tell him that we’re done.” Before the words had fully left my mouth, a familiar voice, sharp with anger, cut through the air from behind me. “What do you mean, ‘we’re done’? Hannah, are you playing games with me?” 03 I turned to see Leo standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with impatience. I didn’t understand. I was the one who had been deceived. How had he twisted it to make it sound like I was the one playing games? I ignored him. Mia was still here, and I didn’t want to fight in front of her. Mia’s face suddenly went pale. She grabbed my arm. “Wait… what is your relationship with Mr. Sterling?” “The receptionist said you didn’t have an appointment. I thought you were a business partner, but now…” I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. Mia didn’t know that the receptionist had blocked me, that Leo hadn’t answered my calls. The only “proof” I had was a screenshot of a text message from three years ago: Wait until I’m rich, Hannah. I’ll marry you. I promise. I’d saved that screenshot for three years, protecting it like a precious jewel. But the look the receptionist gave me was the kind you give a fool. And she was right. Who holds on to a casual promise for so long? But it was all I had. He and Mia had so many photos together—at Disneyland, at restaurants—looking so happy, so close. He and I didn’t have a single decent picture together. Seeing our silence, Mia’s eyes filled with tears. She turned and started lightly pounding her fists against Leo’s chest. “Leo, if you have a girlfriend, why would you treat me like this? I just need a straight answer! What am I to you?” She was so brave, so earnest. Even asking such a naive question, she seemed adorable. Leo just stood there, letting her hit him, his face a mask of pain. Watching the drama unfold, I suddenly thought of my old self. I used to always want to ask him, “When are we getting married?” But every time the words reached my lips, I’d swallow them, afraid of pressuring him. Instead, I’d just ask, “Do you want fried rice for dinner?” After a long silence, Leo turned to look at me, his eyes holding a familiar, pleading expression. I laughed at myself, a bitter, hollow sound, and finished his unspoken sentence for him. “I’m not his girlfriend.” So this is what it looked like when Leo loved someone. Money, time, a title—whatever Mia wanted, he gave it to her, right then and there. No hiding, no empty promises of “someday.” Unlike me. I waited eight years, only to be told, “Don’t be so greedy.” Even when I was sick, all I could do was joke about “not having long to live,” and then be left helpless by his silence. My stomach churned again, and tears started to fall, hot and unstoppable. So that was it. They had an understanding all along. Of course. When you love someone, you can’t help it. You can’t help but want to give them the best of everything, to possess them completely. You can’t stand to be apart for a single second longer than you have to. He had never given any of that to me. I suddenly felt like laughing. Laughing because my mother, who had been telling me to leave him for eight years, had been right all along. Laughing at my own stupidity. I used to naively believe that Leo was just focused on his career. Now I knew the truth. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love. It was just that the person he loved wasn’t me. 04 Swallowing a sob, I held out my hand to him. “Let’s just end it here. I don’t even want to ask why you lied to me.” “Just give me back the watch. And after this, let’s not see each other again.” A crowd of onlookers had gathered by the door. Someone scoffed loudly. “I’ve never seen someone ask for a gift back. How trashy.” “She’s probably just a gold-digger trying to shake him down!” Leo’s jaw clenched. He’d obviously heard them too. “Don’t you all have work to do?” he roared at the doorway. The crowd scattered. He then turned to Mia, gently stroking her hair. “Go on ahead. I’ll explain everything in a minute.” Now it was just the two of us, the silence so profound I could hear my own heart hammering against my ribs. I never wanted it to be like this, so humiliating, so pathetic. But that watch was the only thing I had left of my father. It was the gift my mother gave him when they first fell in love. On his deathbed, he had pressed it into my hand. “Hannah, take good care of this watch. Don’t let anything happen to it.” I had to get it back. I was afraid that when I saw him again on the other side, he would blame me. I held my hand out stubbornly. “Give it to me.” Leo let out a bitter laugh. “You’re really something else, Hannah. You’ve been after my money from the start, haven’t you? First you pretend you didn’t know, now you’re trying to break up with me. Playing hard to get? Let’s see how long you can keep up this act!” My nails dug into my palms. I looked him straight in the eye and said, each word precise and cold, “Leo, make yourself clear. You were the one pretending to be poor. When have I ever asked you for money?” He shot me a dismissive glance and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He didn’t light it, just rolled it between his fingers, agitated. His voice was laced with contempt, each word a shard of ice in my heart. “Three years ago. You told me you wanted a penthouse in Midtown. That’s when you started planning all this, wasn’t it?” I stared at him, my mind reeling before the memory surfaced. Three years ago, when we had just moved to New York. The summers were humid, and moisture would seep into our tiny apartment, leaving dark patches of mold on the walls. He’d painstakingly cover them with fresh paint, then turn to me in the cramped space, barely wide enough for one person to pass, and kiss me. “Just a little longer,” he’d murmured. “Once I finish this project, we’ll move to a bigger place in Queens, somewhere with more light.” I’d dodged his kiss, laughing. “No way. I want to live in Midtown. I want a huge penthouse with a view of the river!” The paintbrush had slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. He’d straightened up and just stared at me for a long time. And like a fool, I thought he was seriously considering our future. But he wasn’t. He was planning his revenge. I let out a long, shuddering breath as tears streamed down my face. So that was it. Our eight years together, in his eyes, were nothing more than a long con, a scheme for my financial gain. And for him, it was just ammunition. A weapon to hurt me with. 05 “You have no idea how stupid you sounded that day,” Leo said suddenly, his voice laced with a strange, venomous anger. But his eyes were red. “Who smiles when they’re telling someone they’re dying? I hate you for it. Why couldn’t you even be a better liar?” “But I hate myself more,” he choked out. “Your acting was terrible, and I still couldn’t bring myself to tell you to get lost. I was already going to give you the money, but you couldn’t even wait, could you? You had to come here and force my hand!” Every word he spoke chipped away another piece of my heart. For eight years, I paid the rent. I paid the utilities. When he said his business was struggling, I not only gave him my savings but also went to networking events and drank with strangers to build connections for him. And today, I find out he comes from a wealthy family, that he’s been successful for years. He was hiding a secret relationship with a younger woman while accusing me of being a gold-digger. Looking at his handsome face, he seemed like a complete stranger. I didn’t want to be in the same room with him for another second. I lunged forward and tried to undo the clasp on his watch. My fingers were trembling too much. I fumbled with it, unable to get it open. Tears fell onto the sleeve of his expensive suit, spreading into a dark, wet stain. Leo lost his temper. He grabbed my hands, his voice booming. “Is this stupid thing all you care about?” He ripped the watch off his wrist and slammed it onto the floor. “Who the hell wants it anyway!” The watch face hit the marble and shattered into a spiderweb of cracks. Shards of glass scattered around my feet like a thousand tiny tears. A roar filled my head. My father’s face flashed before my eyes, the memory of him coughing up blood in his final moments. He was trembling in pain, but he was still smiling as he pressed the watch into my hand. “Daddy’s not going to make it, but this can stay with my little Hannah, okay? This way, our time will always overlap.” Now, the hands were frozen amidst a field of broken glass. Time had truly stopped. Ignoring the sharp edges, I dropped to my knees and frantically tried to gather the pieces. Droplets of blood beaded on my fingertips, stark red against my pale skin. Leo suddenly knocked my hands away. “Are you crazy?” he yelled. “Look at your hands!” The watch fell from my grasp again, splintering even further. I looked at the wreckage and let out a laugh filled with despair. Why couldn’t I just die right here, in this moment? His one promise of marriage had been a carrot on a stick, and I was the stupid donkey chasing it for years. I kept telling my mother I was happy, that Leo was good to me, but he had been lying to me all along. Now I had cancer, and the one precious thing my father had left me was destroyed. Staring at the ruined watch, all the strength drained out of my body. I think I really am going to die, I thought. Glass embedded itself in my palms. My hands were covered in blood, and tears streamed down my face. I looked up at Leo, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Leo, I’ve let my mother down, but I have never done you wrong. When you had an interview, I rented you the most expensive suit I could find. When you needed to impress a client, I gave you the only thing my father ever left me. When you wanted to start your business, I sold the jewelry my mother gave me and poured every penny I had into your dream.” “You said you would marry me, and I waited eight years. The only mistake I ever made was trusting you with my whole heart for eight years! Now I’m dying. I’m begging you, can you please just let me have one single day of peace?” Leo grabbed my hands, his skin burning against mine. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “What’s this ‘dying’ nonsense? You’re still acting, aren’t you? What is this, the pity card? It’s not going to work, I’m telling you…” I didn’t hear the rest of his words. A violent wave of nausea churned in my stomach. The pain was so intense I couldn’t stand. A mouthful of blood surged up my throat. I didn’t have an ounce of strength left. I collapsed.

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1 The day I was supposed to marry Raven Blackwood, the city’s most feared crime boss, I was kidnapped and dismembered. I died with my eyes wide open. My parents, their eyes red with grief, demanded justice. Raven swore she would hunt down my killer herself. But when all the evidence pointed to my twin brother, Tom, they went silent. The case was closed with unnatural speed. Soon after, Raven married Tom. Watching them live a life of blissful love, my soul shattered in the heavens. When I opened my eyes again, I was five years in the future, inside the body of one of Raven’s most trusted enforcers, a man named Shane. That night, I abducted their twin son and daughter. I put their organs up for auction on the high seas. As the dark web livestream went live, buyers from across the globe flooded in, the bids climbing at a feverish pace. I smiled into the camera, a cold, predatory grin. “Raven,” I purred, “do you remember your promise to Liam? To kill the man who murdered him?” “Now is your chance. Kill the real murderer with your own hands. Otherwise… your precious little darlings are going to be sold off… piece by piece.” … I knew Raven had hemorrhaged during childbirth. They’d had to remove her uterus. She could never have another child. That was the only reason I dared to make this gamble. The viewer count on the livestream skyrocketed into the millions. The chat exploded. “Organs this fresh? The transplant success rate will be through the roof!” “Hurry up! My daughter has been waiting for corneas for three years!” In an instant, the children’s eyes, ears, heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys were all claimed, the prices soaring higher with each bid. Raven, always the picture of cold, ruthless control, finally broke. She shot to her feet, her eyes locked on the screen. “You’re not Shane. Who are you? What do you want?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Just a little cosmic justice,” I said airily. “Can’t stand to see a good man die in vain.” My words sent my parents, who were standing beside her, into a rage. “The truth is already out! The police closed the case!” my father roared. “Liam was never any good!” my mother shrieked. “He was kidnapped for five years and came back a complete savage! Always skulking around, always trying to hurt his brother! He deserved to die!” Their words were daggers of ice in my soul. When I was five, they took me on a trip to the countryside. They were so absorbed in a card game that they didn’t notice when a trafficker snatched me away. Five years later, the police rescued me from an illegal coal mine. I was covered in scars and spoke with a thick, rural accent. My brother, Tom, had grown up swaddled in luxury, a master of piano and equestrian sports. My parents found me crude. My brother called me a hick. They made me live in the storage room and told visitors I was the maid’s son. School was out of the question. My short life was spent working to support them, desperately trying to earn their affection. And this was my reward. To be told I deserved to die. Tom, emboldened by our parents’ support, sneered. “That’s right. The evidence was conclusive. What kind of story are you trying to spin now? Let the kids go, or I’ll make sure there isn’t enough of you left to bury!” I didn’t answer. I just grabbed a scalpel and, with one clean motion, carved out one of the twin’s eyeballs. Blood dripped in front of the lens. I read the buyer’s ID aloud. “Corneas claimed by user Rebirth1999 are now harvested. Send your address via private message.” The chat erupted. The buyer was ecstatic. I turned my gaze back to Raven. Her face was ashen, her lips trembling. “You… you’re insane!” I just smiled, brandishing the bloody scalpel. “You’ve already wasted one opportunity. We still have ears, a heart, a liver, a spleen, lungs, and kidneys to go. Are you going to keep hesitating?” Seeing me harm their beloved grandchildren sent my parents into a fresh wave of fury. “Are you crazy?!” my father screamed. “There is no other killer! Who do you want her to kill?!” “Liam brought this on himself! He pissed off the wrong people and they came for revenge! You talk about getting justice for him, what did he ever give you? It’s money you want, isn’t it? We’ll give you double!” My notoriously stingy parents were suddenly generous. “Double? How about a billion? Ten billion? Would you be willing to bankrupt yourselves for him?” They didn’t hesitate. “Of course!” A bitter taste filled my mouth. When they first brought me home, they called me a disgrace and said they were too poor to send me to school. They forced me to work. I hauled bricks at a construction site by day and washed dishes at a night market by night, saving every penny, giving them half my wages every month. And Tom? He went to a private academy, had piano and riding lessons, wore designer clothes, and studied abroad. For him, money was no object. Now, they were willing to lose everything just to protect him. It was never that they didn’t have the money. They just weren’t willing to spend a single cent on me. Tom saw the flicker of change in my expression and thought he’d found my price. “Just let them go,” he said quickly. “Name your price. We won’t press charges. Otherwise, the police will hunt you down and you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your life!” I laughed coldly. “We’re in international waters. A lawless zone. The police have no jurisdiction here.” I had my years in the abyss to thank for that knowledge, for the skills I’d picked up navigating the dark web. Tom’s face fell. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be immune to his threats. I ignored them and checked the time. Raven still hadn’t moved. Without another moment of hesitation, I pressed the scalpel against the other child’s ear. “Ears claimed by user BloodiedDawn,” I announced to the camera. “Now harvesting.” “Stop!” Raven finally broke. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her voice a strangled whisper. “I’ll… I’ll do it.” My parents’ faces contorted in horror. They grabbed her arm. “Are you mad?! The man is a lunatic, and you’re going to play his game?” “Raven, he’s not worth it! Not for Liam!” She just gave them a reassuring look and waved a hand at her bodyguards. “Bring him in.” A moment later, a man, bound and gagged, was shoved in front of the camera. His face was a mess of bruises. Raven pointed at him. “This is the driver from that day, a man named Marcus. Liam caught him stealing from the family and had one of his hands broken. He held a grudge. On the wedding day, he deliberately leaked your route to your enemies.” I stared at the man. I recognized him. He was my driver, before he got caught stealing and was thrown out. He knelt on the floor, sobbing. “It was me… I did it… I hated Liam, so… so I took a detour and led him right into their trap…” I sneered. Yes, he was a part of it. But he was no mastermind. A pawn, at best. “You think you can fool me with this?” My hand shot out. The scalpel flashed. The boy twin let out a muffled, piercing scream as blood gushed from his face. “You—!” Raven shrieked, lunging toward the screen. “I gave you the killer! Why did you still do it?!” I stared at her twisted face and slowly smiled. “Do you take me for an idiot? Who would believe such a pathetic lie?” I turned to the trembling driver. “Marcus. Tell me. Who gave you the order?” His eyes darted nervously to Raven before he looked down again. “No one… It was me…” “Hah.” I pressed the tip of the blade against the other child’s cheek. “It seems you need more convincing.” “Enough!” my father roared, slamming his hand on a table. “You’re a complete psychopath! What kind of person would be friends with a maniac like Liam? We gave you the killer and you don’t believe it! What the hell do you want?!” Tom stared at me, his voice hoarse. “That’s the truth. What more could you possibly want?” I turned my head slowly, my gaze like a razor. “What do I want…? You know exactly what I want, don’t you, Tom?” The blood drained from his face. He was speechless. Raven’s breathing grew ragged. “Shane,” she said through gritted teeth, “Liam was my fiancé. Do you really think I would protect his killer? If it was someone close to me, I would kill them with my own two hands!” I stared at her, my heart a block of ice. Yes, I had wondered about that. Why had she accepted Tom so quickly after my murder? Hadn’t she sworn she loved me more than life itself? Hadn’t she said I was her only salvation? It was only later that I learned the truth. She had never loved me at all. She had met Tom long before she met me. They’d crossed paths at an auction. She only came into my life because she mistook me for him. Everything—her tenderness, her promises, her salvation—it was all built on a ridiculous misunderstanding. And I, like an absolute fool, had been their plaything until the very end. I tilted my chin, a sarcastic smirk playing on my lips. “Is that so? I guess only you would know for sure.” I glanced impassively at the scrolling comments on the screen—a chaotic mix of demands for delivery and furious condemnations. The bids had reached astronomical figures, but the comments that stood out were the ones that called me a monster. “Worse than an animal!” “You’ll burn in hell for hurting children!” “Time’s up,” I announced, the scalpel gleaming under the lights. Tom’s pupils constricted. He struggled to lunge forward, trapped by the screen. Just as the blade was about to touch the second twin’s ear, a familiar voice cried out from off-camera. “Stop!” I whipped my head around. There, standing in the Thornes’ living room, was my adoptive sister, Lily. The only person who had ever shown me warmth in that rural hellhole was now standing there, pale and trembling. Her presence made me pause. After my rescue, I had secretly funded her education for years. She was the last piece of goodness I had left in the world. “I know the truth about Liam’s death.” Lily’s voice shook, but she held up a file folder with a steady hand. “Liam… he killed himself. I’ve been investigating for a long time. This is all the proof.” She pulled out a stack of yellowed letters. “This is his suicide note. He said he was living in his brother’s shadow, that the pressure was too much… so on his wedding day, he deliberately leaked his own location to his enemies.” My fingers tightened on the scalpel. “That’s bullshit!” I snarled. “When he was paying for your school, he was starving himself, and he never once thought of suicide! And you’re telling me he’d kill himself on the verge of marrying a crime boss?” Lily bit her lip and produced a stack of photos. “These are his medical records. He was on antidepressants. And this…” She held up a bank statement. “A month before he died, he transferred all his assets to my name.” The chat exploded with speculation, but I couldn’t care less. I stared at the evidence in Lily’s hands, my mind reeling. The Lily I remembered, the one who always had a kind word and a warm hug… how could she betray me too? Her tearful voice echoed in my head like a nightmare. “People change, Liam. He talked to me a lot near the end. He said… he said he felt like a joke.” “You’re the one who’s changed!” I spun around, and without a second thought, I sliced the scalpel across the second twin’s ear. As blood sprayed, Tom let out an inhuman scream. He thrashed wildly, sending his chair toppling forward. To everyone’s surprise, Lily moved with astonishing speed, catching him before he hit the floor. Her movements were so practiced, so fluid, even faster than Raven, the supposed crime lord. My pupils contracted. The scene was too strange. “Interesting,” I purred. “Your concern for the younger Mr. Thorne seems to go beyond simple friendship, wouldn’t you say?” The chat went eerily silent for a moment. Lily’s body went rigid. She quickly straightened up, her voice righteous. “You’re mistaken, Shane. The only man I’ve ever loved is Liam.” I sneered and turned my attention back to the auction. The buyer, BloodMoon, had paid in full and was demanding I harvest the boy’s heart. I slowly picked up the scalpel and leaned over the boy, pressing the tip against his small chest. “Heart claimed by user BloodMoon. Beginning extraction now.” “STOP!” Raven screamed, clawing at the screen. “Shane, there is no other killer! Where do you want me to find one?!” My parents, having just returned from taking Tom for medical attention, rushed back in. “You monster!” my mother shrieked. “If there was a real killer, don’t you think Raven’s people would have found them by now? You just want to destroy our family! Liam is dead, but Tom is our life!” My heart turned to stone. These were my parents. They would sacrifice me in a heartbeat to save Tom. The last shred of affection I had for them vanished. I stared at Raven, pressing the scalpel just enough to draw a bead of blood. “My patience is running out. Either you kill the real murderer, or I cut his chest open right now.” Raven’s face was a mask of terror. Finally, backed into a corner, she screamed, “It was Tom! The killer is Tom!” My parents froze, their eyes wide with disbelief. “Raven, are you insane?!” She ignored them and ordered her men, “Bring Tom here.” He was dragged back in, with Lily trailing behind him, sobbing. “Raven, you can’t…” I tightened my grip on the scalpel. “Do it now,” I commanded, “or I take the heart.” Raven’s hand trembled as she took the knife a bodyguard offered her. Amidst my parents’ soul-tearing screams, she swung the blade and slit Tom’s throat. Blood arced through the air. My parents fainted. Lily collapsed, a broken sound that was half-laugh, half-sob escaping her lips. “Hahaha…” she pointed a trembling finger at me. “Are you satisfied now? Are you finally satisfied?” “You wanted the truth, didn’t you? I’ll give you the truth!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “When you were kids, it was Tom who distracted your parents so the trafficker could take you! And when he found out you were living with my family, he paid my parents to abuse you! He’s always hated you, because your parents always compared you to him!” The brutal truth hit me like a physical blow. So that was it. All the suffering, all the pain… it was all his design. Lily’s kindness was just another one of his manipulations. I stared at her, a storm of rage and grief churning inside me. He deserved to die. My revenge was complete. I was about to drop the scalpel, to let it all end. But then my eyes fell on Tom’s body. My pupils contracted. Behind his ear, where a dark red birthmark should have been, there was nothing. The skin was perfectly clean. The man who died was not Tom.

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The very day I found out I was pregnant, I bought the abortion pills. I was just about to swallow them when I heard a voice from deep within my womb. [Mom! Don’t do it! I can make us rich!] [My dad’s a mega-billionaire, and he’s a total sucker for chasing women.] [He always goes for these stubborn, artsy girls who remind him of his ‘one that got away.’ He showers them with gifts, but they always toss them in the trash out of spite. I know where those trash cans are!] I figured I was just losing my mind and moved to pop the pill in my mouth. [Hundreds of grams of gold! The latest iPhone! Jewelry worth millions! And…] I gagged, spitting the pill that was halfway down my throat right into the trash can at my feet. “Where?! Tell me now!” … 1. “Wait a second,” I said, a thought suddenly striking me. “If your dad is a mega-billionaire, why don’t I just go tell him I’m pregnant with his child? Wouldn’t that be easier?” My son’s voice laughed at my naivete. [He’s a mega-billionaire, Mom. You think he’s short on women throwing themselves at him?] [Stop watching those cheesy dramas where the CEO falls for the ordinary girl!] [If you show up now, pregnant, how do you prove it’s his? He could get rid of me with a snap of his fingers! They’d probably brand you a gold-digger, make you disappear quietly. We just need to skim a little off the top and we’ll be set for life. You gotta learn to be content, Mom. The world of the super-rich isn’t as easy as you think.] I nodded vigorously. Maybe my son had lived this life before. This was a new game, and he was giving me the cheat codes. Even if I did manage to get into that world, what’s the point of having money if you’re not alive to spend it? Better to just be alive. “Okay, I’m with you,” I said, rubbing my hands together excitedly, ready to dumpster-dive my way to financial freedom and the life of my dreams. To prove he was for real, my son gave me an address. I pedaled a shared bike for what felt like an eternity, finally rolling up to a trash can outside a mansion on Billionaire’s Row. I lifted the lid, and my eyes lit up. “Wow, even the trash of the rich smells like money,” I muttered. It wasn’t filled with rotting garbage, but mostly pristine gift boxes. I pulled a burlap sack from my coat and started stuffing it. Clang, clunk. I filled two whole sacks, tied them to the bike, and wobbled my way out of the exclusive neighborhood before I could finally hail a cab to drag my haul home. Back home, I couldn’t wait to start unboxing. An Hermès tie, a Parisian suit, a Chanel watch, Dior… After sorting through everything, I realized it was all men’s stuff. “Uh… son,” I hesitated. “Is your dad’s ‘one that got away’… a guy?” He let out a hearty laugh. [Don’t worry, Mom, she’s definitely a girl.] [These are gifts from other businessmen trying to get on my dad’s good side. He just tosses them.] [He’s a mega-billionaire. Stuff you can buy with money is boring to him. A lot of other women try to win him over too, sending him gifts. Every so often, he clears them all out and dumps them by the gate.] [Which means every so often, you get to go on a treasure hunt.] Hearing this, I couldn’t stop grinning. “Son, you’re my little lucky star.” I got everything organized, opened up an online marketplace app, and listed it all at 50% off. Brand new! The prices were a steal, and within twenty minutes, everything was sold. My bank account, which had a pathetic balance of thirty dollars, suddenly jumped to over a million. “Damn,” I whistled. “This luxury stuff is no joke. People are fighting over it even secondhand. The quality is amazing, though.” My son’s voice was smug in my belly. [Of course. We’re talking about my dad. The cheapest gift anyone would dare to send him is worth at least a hundred grand. Sending something cheap would be a huge embarrassment. For these people, saving face is everything.] 2. I packaged everything for shipping. Just in case, I took my son’s advice and used a fake return address. I recorded the whole process to prove everything was authentic, telling the buyers they could have it all verified upon arrival. Once that was done, I walked into a real store and bought the two-thousand-dollar laptop I’d been dreaming of for years. The moment the transaction went through, a wave of validation washed over me like never before. New money, baby! I got home, clutched the laptop to my chest, and just sobbed. “Oh, son, you have no idea how hard it’s been all these years, boo-hoo-hoo… Why couldn’t you have shown up sooner…” I wailed for a good half hour until my son’s voice cut through my tears. [Keep crying and the trash-picking business is closed.] That was not an option! Dumpster diving was my life’s calling now. I wiped my tears and started searching for information on this mega-billionaire online. There was almost nothing. Barely any useful information at all. Made sense, I guess. The truly rich stay hidden. “Son, do you know what your dad looks like? Is he hot?” [No idea. Probably? I mean, you slept with him, don’t you know?] I scratched my head, blushing a little. “Well, I was drunk. I woke up naked with some guy next to me. I was so scared I bolted. I didn’t exactly stick around to check out his face. He had a great body, though, hehe.” [Mom, you’re drooling.] I quickly grabbed a tissue. My mind started to wander. “So, there’s really no chance…?” What if I could become Mrs. Billionaire? A great body usually comes with a handsome face. And I was carrying his kid! That had to give me an edge, right? My son’s next words shattered my fantasy. [Crush that little fantasy right now. Unless you have a death wish.] “Fine,” I sighed, letting go of my short-lived dream of marrying into wealth. I had a million dollars in the bank. Well, nine hundred and ninety-eight thousand after the laptop. It was a sum I couldn’t have even dreamed of before. I stroked my flat stomach, a smile on my face as I scrolled through Amazon. If I saw something I liked, I bought it. Clearing out my shopping cart only cost ten grand. It felt amazing. Life was so good I was almost afraid to sleep, scared I’d wake up and find it was all a dream. I spent the next week in a happy haze of eating and sleeping. Then, after nearly a week of silence, my son spoke up. [Quick! It’s Christmas Eve! Dad’s making his move!] I zipped over to the address he gave me on a shared e-bike, making a mental note to get my driver’s license and buy a car ASAP. Otherwise, how was I supposed to haul my treasures back? The burlap sacks worked for now, but if I ran into someone I knew, it would be hard to explain. A car was safer. I bought a bag of fries and crouched across the street, munching away as I staked out a fancy restaurant. “Damn, a five-star hotel. Even the entrance looks expensive. Is that door made of gold? I kind of want to pry some off.” [Mom, focus.] [Dad’s in there.] [When the girl comes out, follow her. The second she throws it away, you grab it.] I thought for a moment. “Son, what if I just bring a sack and go through all the trash cans on this street? It’s Christmas Eve, there must be a ton of good stuff people are throwing out.” [None of that is worth anything. The gift from my dad is a piece of jewelry worth millions. You could sell it secondhand for a fortune. All that other junk—broken phones, cheap gold—isn’t worth a fraction of this one piece.] It made sense, but something still felt… off. A few minutes later, the girl came out. No man with her. Just like my son said, I followed her from a distance. 3. I watched her toss a small box into a public trash can. The second she was gone, I pounced, digging through the garbage. Just as I pulled the gift box out, another hand shot out and grabbed it. I instinctively clutched it tighter, but he held on. He frowned, trying to wrench it from my grasp. I glared back, holding on for dear life. “Let go! I saw it first, it’s mine!” It was dark, and the street was mostly empty. I’d heard about people who did this on holidays like Christmas Eve, scavenging through trash for valuables. Any other piece of trash I would’ve let go, but this was a necklace worth millions. I grit my teeth, and before he could say anything, I bit down hard on his arm. He yelped in pain and let go. I scrambled away, jumped on my e-bike, and sped off into the night. “Trying to steal from me? Not a chance,” I huffed. “Pretty badass, right, son?” [Yeah, totally badass.] For some reason, he sounded a little distracted. But my attention was quickly drawn to all the couples walking around with flowers and gifts. I’d heard stories of people finding phones and gold on nights like this. Why not give it a try? I pulled on a mask and coaxed my son into telling me which trash cans were likely to have treasure. I found three brand-new iPhones, several rings—diamond, gold, platinum—and one fake one, which I threw back in disgust. “Jerk. Proposing with a fake ring.” I found a bunch of other miscellaneous stuff too. That night, I slept surrounded by my haul, dreaming of riches. The next morning, a knock from the police woke me up. That’s when I finally understood why my son had warned me against picking up the other stuff. I sat at the police station, giving my statement, turning over everything I’d found the night before. I even had to write a thousand-word apology letter, promising to turn in any found items to the police in the future. Everything except the necklace, of course. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I kicked a stray pebble on the sidewalk. Thwack! Pain shot through my foot, and I hopped around, howling. I squatted down, on the verge of tears. “I worked so hard for that! Why? Why did I have to give it all back? Waaah…” For once, my son didn’t tease me. He sounded sympathetic. [Mom, you can’t touch poor people’s money.] [Think about it. If a gift gets thrown away, what does that mean?] I sniffled. “What does it mean?” [It means the girl didn’t want it, but the guy forced it on her. When he finds out it’s gone, he’s going to want it back. And whoever is on the security camera grabbing it is the one who gets in trouble.] [My dad is different. He’s a billionaire. He doesn’t care about the money. He gives away gifts worth millions, and if they get tossed, he doesn’t give it a second thought.] I was still sulking. He continued, [What you lost today was maybe five grand, total. But that necklace you got from my dad? That’s worth over ten million.] I wiped my tears. Confidence restored! Ten million. The first thing I did when I got home was look up the necklace’s original price. When I saw the thirteen-million-dollar price tag, I gasped. I hugged the box and jumped around the room for a solid five minutes. My son’s voice squealed from inside me. [Whoa, Mom, careful! Be careful! Don’t bounce me out of here!] I immediately calmed down. The morning’s unpleasantness at the station vanished. Pure bliss. Mask on, I headed to a luxury consignment shop. 4. They bought it for 80% of its value. After a thorough inspection to confirm it was authentic, we exchanged cash for goods. The first thing I did was walk out and buy myself the new tri-fold phone. So slick, no matter how you folded it. Take my phones, will you? Fine. I’ll just buy a better one myself. Over the next few months, I became a professional treasure hunter, following my son’s tips from one high-end trash can to another. My bank account got upgraded to VIP status. I started wearing clothes made of fine fabrics. I got my driver’s license and bought a cute little Mini Cooper. I signed up for yoga, found some hobbies, and even hired a personal nutritionist to manage my meals and a full-time housekeeper for three grand a month. I bought a small, beautifully furnished villa and moved in immediately. I had officially achieved financial freedom by digging through trash. As my belly grew, so did my son’s excitement. [I’m almost out! I’m so excited!] One day, I was sunbathing on the balcony and a thought struck me. “Son, are you… reincarnated?” [Yeah. In my last life, you heard my voice and rushed to find Dad. He took you in, but life in that family was brutal. He resented you and ignored you completely after I was born. Even with all that money, you couldn’t spend a dime. No one even knew you were his wife. You had no status, no recognition. It was a miserable life. And me? I was the unloved illegitimate child. So this time, we’re staying far away from that world and living our own happy life.] My heart ached for him. I shifted my body to let the sun warm my entire belly. “Okay. Whatever you say, son.” I had plenty of money now. I decided once my son was born and walking, I’d start a side business. This trash-picking gig couldn’t last forever. I couldn’t keep showing up outside someone’s house without eventually getting noticed. What if he got mad and made me give all the money back? But my son told me not to worry. [I didn’t live my last life for nothing, Mom. I learned everything I needed to know. I’ll handle the business side of things. You just relax and enjoy yourself.] Tears of gratitude welled up in my eyes. “You really are my little lucky star.” Despite his words, I couldn’t possibly let a child handle all that work. To make sure he was born healthy, I hired a top obstetrician and followed her exercise and diet plan religiously to control his birth weight. The day of the delivery, we worked together as a team. It was a quick, smooth birth that was over in half an hour. After his first cry, I held him in our private hospital room. He babbled and cooed for a while, but when I didn’t respond, he gave up. I blinked, and it hit me. “Son? I can’t hear your thoughts anymore.” He gurgled and managed to pat his tiny tummy with a clumsy hand. I understood. He was hungry. I immediately mixed a bottle for him. I had given birth to an overachiever. He practiced his motor skills day and night. While other babies were rolling over at three months and crawling at nine, my son was walking confidently at nine months and already starting on preschool material. By the time he went to kindergarten, he had mastered the sixth-grade curriculum. He skipped several grades and, at the age of three, was enrolled in the fifth grade. He was hailed as a child prodigy. One day, I came home from a shopping trip to find a strange man in my house. The man looked uncannily like my son. Alarm bells screamed in my head.

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