My husband’s mistress was madly in love with him. She actually believed his pathetic lie that he was a single, divorced dad. Naturally, she saw me as the evil homewrecker. She even brainwashed my daughter into giving me a teddy bear hidden with a spy camera. Then, she filmed a self-righteous video about “fighting back against homewreckers” and posted it on her social media. Within a single day, I was relentlessly cyberbullied by her hundreds of thousands of followers. The online hate storm drove me into severe depression. For six months, I was too terrified to even step outside my house. My husband treated me like I was invisible. Even my own daughter thought I was just throwing tantrums, throwing cruel, verbal jabs at me every single day. Unable to bear the physical and mental torture anymore, I finally set fire to the house and let the flames consume me. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the exact day my daughter handed me that rigged teddy bear. This time, I’m going to make sure the three of you are locked together in your own personal hell forever.

“Chloe, look! I got this teddy bear for you. Isn’t it pretty?” My daughter Lily’s voice echoed beside me. I looked down at her and suddenly noticed a flicker of… disgust in her eyes. I froze. I realized that even at this point, her loyalty had already shifted to that other woman. In my past life, to help Lily progress faster in her dance classes, I had specifically applied to work as an instructor at her dance studio. Back then, I held Lily to high standards. Because of that, she resented me deeply. So when Lily handed me this teddy bear in my past life, I was absolutely thrilled. I kept it on my office desk, looking at it happily every single day. It wasn’t until my husband’s girlfriend barged into our dance studio that I realized I had been labeled as the “homewrecker.” She shoved her phone in my face, recording a video while screaming, “Look at yourself! You actually make this poor little girl call you mom? Aren’t you embarrassed?” “Don’t you know her dad has had a girlfriend since his divorce? That’s me!” “Using a child to cling to a man—how shameless can you get!” At that time, to protect Lily from being gossiped about by her peers, I didn’t announce to the crowd that she was my biological daughter. I had only let her call me “Mom” privately in my office. Who would have thought this woman would upload that video online, calling me a disgusting homewrecker? I had looked at Lily desperately, begging for help. But my own daughter just turned her head away, refusing to say a word to defend me. That woman posted the video on her TikTok. Her hundreds of thousands of followers exploded instantly. They swarmed all my social media accounts, leaving thousands of abusive comments. The harassment lasted for six long months. Meanwhile, my husband and daughter were playing happy family with that cheap homewrecker, acting as if I didn’t exist. The pain was too much. I ended it all in a house fire. Now, I was back. Back in my office, with Lily handing me the teddy bear. I looked at her coldly. “Got it. Just leave it on the desk. And remember, we are at school. Call me Ms. Chloe.” Lily didn’t expect such a cold reaction. She pouted. “Fine.” Shortly after Lily went back to class, I received a Snapchat from my husband, Carter. “I’m taking Lily out for a dinner party with some friends tonight. Want to join?” In my past life, I suffered from severe postpartum depression and hated socializing. But back then, I didn’t want Lily to be cooped up at home with me. So, I always encouraged Carter to take her out to have fun. When Lily was three, she said she wanted to learn ballet. I picked up my old passion, practicing day and night to get a job at this prestigious dance academy. Aside from training her at school, I even built a private dance studio for her at home. I loved dancing when I was a kid, but my parents were sick and we couldn’t afford it. I wanted to give Lily everything I never had.

I never thought I’d be cheated on. Carter and I had been together for thirteen years. I thought we knew each other inside out. And I certainly never expected that the woman outside would try to steal my daughter, too. I clenched my fists so hard my nails nearly bit into my palms. I typed back: “Sure, have fun. Get back early.” Carter forgot that his current success was built on my sweat and tears, funded by every single dance show I performed back in the day. And now, he wanted to turn me into a laughingstock? I don’t think so. After dance class ended, I saw Carter standing by the door, dressed in a sharp suit, waiting to pick up Lily. Lily jumped into his car giggling, and I quietly followed them in mine. The car didn’t head to any “dinner party.” Instead, it drove straight into the luxury gated community next to our neighborhood. I remembered when we bought our current house, Carter had pointed at this exact luxury estate and said with deep emotion: “Chloe, don’t worry. This house is just the beginning. One day, I’ll buy you that villa right in the center.” We had toured that villa before. It had a perfect view, but it was priced $500,000 higher than the others. I had smiled at him and said, “It’s fine, babe. As long as our family is happy, I don’t care where we live.” Over the past few years, he kept complaining about how bad his business was, bringing home less and less money. I always comforted him: “It’s okay. I can work to help support us. You just focus on your business.” Thinking back to my past self, and looking at the luxury villa he bought for his mistress, what a sick joke. I parked my car across the street. I hopped on TaskRabbit, hired a local runner, and offered a huge tip with one condition: find out the exact villa number of the woman living there. Usually, security in these gated communities is tight, but in my previous life, I remembered the mistress’s name was Hailey. The runner called me immediately after accepting the task, asking if I had made a typo with the tip amount because it was so high. Hearing her voice, I realized the runner was a young woman. I choked up and told her briefly that my husband was cheating on me and staying in that estate. Hearing my story, she got incredibly angry. She agreed immediately, saying women need to stick together. She walked straight to the security guard. Within minutes, she managed to charm the information out of him. When she sent me the delivery confirmation photo, a man’s hand was shown taking the package. He was wearing the exact designer watch I bought for Carter. With the address confirmed, I contacted a local drama alert channel on Instagram. I asked if they wanted some exclusive tea on a rising influencer. The only thing I asked in return was a copy of the photos they took. They agreed instantly. I didn’t care if this villa was their permanent love nest or just a hookup spot. Getting hard evidence of his infidelity at the lowest cost was my priority. To prevent Carter from hiding or transferring our joint assets, I immediately contacted a top divorce lawyer to get the paperwork ready. I didn’t want the man anymore, but the money? Every single cent of it was earned through our joint hard work. I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. I went home and acted completely normal. The only difference was that I stopped cooking, cleaning, or taking care of them. I left them to fend for themselves. Within a day, Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She sat at the empty dining table and complained loudly. “Chloe, why aren’t you making dinner? Are you trying to starve me and Dad?” “I have to study hard every day, and Dad works so hard to make money. How can you be so lazy and not cook?”

In the past, when Lily said things like this, I used to feel jealous, thinking she was just closer to her dad because they spent more time together. But now I realized she was completely brainwashed by Carter. I slowly chewed on my toasted bread, looking at her blankly. “You have school, and your dad has work. But guess what? I have a job too. My name isn’t written on these chores. I don’t owe you a clean house.” Lily stared at me in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock. “How is that the same? Do you make as much money as Dad? You do nothing all day but sit in your stupid office.” “Plus, you love shopping. If Dad didn’t give you money, you couldn’t even afford the clothes you wear!” So that was it. In the eyes of the daughter I cherished so much, I was just a useless housewife, a parasite. Carter hadn’t put a single penny into our joint account for two years. Every single dollar spent on this house came from my salary. Yet, to Carter and Lily, I was just a freeloading leech. She really was her father’s daughter. I smiled, looking straight into her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Even if I am a leech, your dad is still legally obligated to support me.” “From now on, if you want to eat, order takeout or cook it yourself.” Carter, who was putting on his coat, froze. He walked over, frowning at me. “Chloe, how can you speak to Lily like that? She’s just a kid!” I washed my hands, grabbed my purse, put on my heels, and turned to him. “She’s eight years old. She has her own thoughts and opinions.” “Since she thinks I’m a useless housewife, I might as well act like one. From now on, you do the chores.” With that, I walked out. Today was the day Hailey was going to show up at my studio to make a scene. I sat in my office in a great mood, admiring my new designer necklace in front of the hidden camera in the teddy bear. My coworker, Sarah, noticed it and gasped. “Oh my god, Chloe! That necklace is gorgeous!” I blushed, acting shy. “Thanks. My husband got it for me.” The other teachers started teasing me, complaining about how their husbands never bought them anything nice. I checked the time. It was almost showtime. I saw Lily standing at the door, looking at me with a confused expression. When I walked out, she couldn’t wait to whisper-hiss at me. “Why are you lying? Dad didn’t buy you that. He only buys things for—” She cut herself off, but I knew exactly what she was going to say. She wanted to say that Carter only bought luxury items for Hailey now, and that she preferred Hailey over me anyway. In my past life, those six months of depression made me constantly question myself. Why did my own daughter abandon me? I used to drown in anxiety and self-doubt, wondering what I did wrong. But now? Why should I suffer for their sins? They were the ones who lied and cheated. As long as I didn’t care, they couldn’t hurt me. I tilted my head and smiled at her. “How do you know Dad didn’t buy this for me?” “Of course he did. He loves me so much.” Lily looked utterly bewildered. She was just a kid, after all, probably struggling to figure out who was telling the truth. When I walked back to my desk, the drama channel sent me a Snapchat. It was a photo of Hailey driving out of her luxury community. Right on schedule. Suddenly, Lily’s eyes lit up. She ran toward the entrance, waving her hands excitedly. “Hailey! Over here!” Hailey gave Lily a quick nod, but the fury on her face was unmistakable. With a loud *bang*, she kicked my office door open, her phone raised to record. Sarah stood up, startled. “Excuse me? Can I help you?” Hailey rolled her eyes at her and glared at me with pure venom. “Help? Oh, you can help me expose this disgusting homewrecker!”

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I was pregnant. Just as I was about to go to Julian’s office to share the amazing news, his mother blocked me right outside his door. She screeched, calling me a cheap gold digger who was trying to use a baby to trap her son and climb into their old-money family. “Let me tell you something, bitch. Countless girls throw themselves at my son every single day. Look in the mirror. You think you’re worthy?” “Using a pregnancy to trap him? In your dreams!” She dragged me into the VIP lounge, kicking and punching me, trying to force a miscarriage. Afterward, she looked down at me, gloating. “My son’s life belongs to me. I make his decisions!” 0 Lately, I hadn’t been feeling well. I had no appetite and felt nauseous all the time. After a quick trip to the clinic, the doctor delivered the news: I was pregnant. My eyes welled up instantly. I grabbed the doctor’s hand, trembling. “Are you serious? Really?” The doctor smiled and nodded. At that moment, tears streamed down my face. Julian and I met back in college. We had been married for five years, but we had never been able to conceive. It had been a silent ache in our hearts. Even though Julian always comforted me, telling me not to rush it, I could always see the faint sadness in his eyes. But now, finally, I was pregnant. I gently placed my hand over my lower belly, heading straight to his company to surprise him. But the moment I reached his office suite, a woman rushed out and blocked my way. In our five years of marriage, I had never met Julian’s parents in person, but I had seen their photos. The woman standing in front of me was his mother, Judith. I kept my manners and greeted her politely. “Hello, Mom.” Hearing that, her face twisted instantly. “What did you just call me?” “Mom, I’m here to see Julian.” Her eyes turned sharp as she scanned me up and down. “Who the hell do you think you are? What business do you have with my son?” “I’m his wife.” Before the words could even fully leave my mouth, a loud *slap* echoed through the hallway. My face whipped to the side, burning. “What kind of trash dares to call herself my son’s wife?” “Clearly, he hasn’t taught you your place. I’ll do it for him today.” Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist with surprising strength and dragged me into the adjacent VIP lounge. The moment the door slammed shut, she shoved me violently to the floor. I looked up at her in utter shock, quickly shielding my stomach with both hands. The doctor’s warning was still ringing in my ears: *The first trimester is the most critical. You must be extremely careful.* “You dare glare at me?” She lunged forward and kicked me. I gasped, collapsing entirely onto the cold floor. Suppressing the sharp pain, I gasped, “Judith, even if you don’t accept me, you can’t humiliate me like this! Besides, I—” “Shut up! Who gave you permission to speak my name? My son never told me he got married.” “You’re just a cheap sugar baby he keeps on the side, yet you honestly think you can become a princess? Dream on.” She sneered, grinding the heel of her designer shoe onto my right hand. “Let me tell you the truth. Any girl who wants to marry my son has to pass me first. No worthless slut is ever getting into my family.” Staring at her twisted, disgusted face, a sudden realization hit me. I remembered asking Julian why his parents didn’t attend our wedding five years ago. He had brushed it off, saying they were too busy. Now I realized the truth. His parents had never approved. In fact, they didn’t even know he was married! Just then, the lounge door clicked open. A young female intern walked in. For a second, I thought I was saved. But Judith immediately barked at her to get out. “I’m disciplining my son’s side-chick. What are you looking at? Get the hell out!” 0

“Get out before I have my son fire you!” Terrified, the girl scrambled backward and slammed the door shut. She didn’t dare take another step inside. Whispers started echoing from the hallway outside. “Wait, is that another one of the CEO’s side-chicks throwing a tantrum?” “I know, right? So many girls these days think they can sleep their way to the top.” “Well, Julian is rich and hot. It’s no wonder these girls don’t know their place.” My entire body was shaking with pain. I carefully reached into my bag to pull out my phone, desperately wanting to call Julian to save me. But before I could dial, Judith snatched it away. “Oh? Look at this. The lock screen is a photo of you and my son.” “It seems you really are quite a favored little toy.” She looked down at me, her voice dripping with mockery. “I am not his toy. I am Julian’s legally wedded wife,” I protested again, my voice cracking. Judith just laughed. Clearly, she didn’t believe a single word. “You think I’d fall for that garbage?” With a cruel smirk, she threw my phone hard against the tiled floor. It shattered into useless pieces. Still unsatisfied, she spat out vile insults while stamping harder on my hand. “Bitch!” “Stay away from my son starting today. Do you hear me?” The pain was so intense I couldn’t even squeeze out a word. My strength was fading fast. Judith, taking my silence as defiance, grew even more furious. “Tough, aren’t you? Still refusing to beg.” “Won’t leave my son, huh? I guess you won’t learn your lesson until I make an example out of you.” “Since you love throwing yourself at men so much, let’s show the whole company what you really look like.” She opened the door and ordered two young secretaries to come inside. When I saw them holding a pair of desk scissors, my heart froze. Panic consumed me. “What… what are you doing?” I was trembling violently. Judith sneered. “Now you’re scared? Too bad. I gave you a chance, and you blew it. I won’t let the son I raised so carefully be ruined by a parasite like you.” “Strip her. I’m going to take photos of her naked and leak them. Once she’s ruined and dirty, my son won’t even look at her. Hahaha!” Her laughter echoed loudly, sending a bone-chilling shiver down my spine. “No! You can’t do this!” I tried to crawl away, but I didn’t dare make any sudden, violent movements. I had to protect the baby in my womb. “I really didn’t seduce him! If you don’t believe me, call Julian in here right now! Let him tell you!” Judith burst into hysterical laughter. “Do you have any idea how big of a deal my son is handling right now? His time is literally worth thousands a second. You think he’ll just run over because you called? Can you afford his time?” One of the secretaries quickly chimed in, eager to please. “Mrs. Zhang, you are so right. Some girls really think they’re the center of the universe when they’re actually nothing!” “Strip her clothes off!” At Judith’s command, the secretaries didn’t hesitate. They lunged forward, grabbing my blouse. I screamed and cried, begging them to stop. My desperate cries echoed through the thin walls, and soon, a small crowd of employees gathered outside the glass doors of the lounge. Most of them were just watching the drama, whispering and pointing at my torn clothes. Only a couple of younger girls looked uncomfortable. One of them stepped forward slightly. “Mrs. Zhang, maybe… maybe this is a bit too much? This is the CEO’s office, after all. If a scandal like this leaks, it might hurt his reputation.” “Yeah, she seems to have learned her lesson. I’m sure she won’t come back.” 0

Instead of listening, Judith glared at them. “You dare talk back to me for this worthless slut? Do you want me to have my son fire all of you right now?” Her threat worked instantly. The employees shut their mouths, stepping back in fear. Suddenly, one of the secretaries holding me gasped. “Mrs. Zhang… look at her. She keeps protecting her stomach. Is she pregnant?” Judith froze for a second. For a brief, naive moment, I thought she would spare me for the sake of the baby. I was dead wrong. The realization that I was pregnant only made her more psychotic. “No wonder you had the nerve to show up here! You brought a little bastard with you to blackmail my son for money!” “Well, too bad you met me today. I am not letting this mistake be born.” Judith grabbed me by my hair, yanked my head back, and kicked me hard right in the stomach. Since I was only in my first trimester, the blow was devastating. Cold sweat poured down my face from the blinding pain. My head spun, and my vision started to blur. For a second, I genuinely thought I was going to die. Using the last of my strength, I shoved Judith back, sobbing out the truth. “I am not his mistress! I am his wife!” “We have a marriage certificate! I am the legal Mrs. Zhang!” The VIP lounge went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. “Bitch! I am Julian’s mother! If he got married, do you think I wouldn’t know?” “You’re just trying to ruin my son’s reputation!” I wiped the blood dripping from my lips. “Julian and I have been together since college. We got married right after graduation.” Judith’s face filled with pure disgust. “Are you trying to say my son went behind my back to marry you?” “My son has been a good, obedient boy his whole life. He would never hide something this big from me!” “If he did, it would mean he didn’t want me as his mother anymore. Who do you think you are to destroy thirty years of our mother-son bond?” I struggled to keep my eyes open, wanting to defend myself, but suddenly, I felt a sickening warmth pooling between my thighs. I wanted to look down, but I had absolutely no strength left. Someone in the crowd gasped, “Oh my god… look! There’s blood on the floor!” Panic surged through me. Five years. It took us five long years to finally get this baby. I wanted to crawl out the door, to scream for Julian to come save our child, but my limbs felt like lead. “It’s just a little blood. Who are you trying to scare?” Judith scoffed. “I’ve been pregnant before. Besides, a dirty girl like you has probably slept around with plenty of men. Who knows if this bastard even belongs to my son!” Her words were laced with venom. Because she was the CEO’s mother, nobody dared to contradict her. I reached out, desperately grabbing the hem of her pants. “I beg you… please save my baby. The baby is innocent!” “My poor baby hasn’t even seen the world yet… please, don’t do this. Call an ambulance, please!” But my desperate cries fell on deaf ears. The people standing around just watched with cold, indifferent eyes. It was none of their business. They didn’t want to get involved. Judith stood there, watching me bleed out on the floor. Only after a grueling ten minutes did she finally pull out her phone. For a split second, I thought she had found her humanity. But she wasn’t calling 911. She was calling Julian. “Mom? What is it now?” Julian’s voice came through the line, sounding exhausted and annoyed. “Sweetheart! Some girl just barged into your office looking for you,” Judith said, her voice instantly transitioning into a sweet, motherly tone. “Mom, people come to my office to see me every day. Men, women, everyone. Can you please stop micromanaging my life?” “Oh, sweetie, I’m just worried about you since you’re still single.” “You don’t need to worry about my personal life. I have it under control. I’m busy, I have to go.” Before he hung up, Judith deliberately put the phone on speaker. “Did you hear that?” Judith sneered, looking down at me. “My son just said he’s single. What kind of ‘wife’ are you?” “In his heart, I am the only woman who matters.” Hearing Julian’s words, my heart completely shattered. So, he had hidden our marriage from everyone. All this time, I was the only one living in this beautiful, pathetic illusion. 0

“I get it… I get it now,” I whimpered. I couldn’t fight her anymore. I just wanted to survive. “Just let me leave. I promise I’ll never see Julian again.” I didn’t dare argue with Judith anymore. I just wanted to soothe her rage so she would let me go to a hospital. “Let you go?” “How do I know you won’t creep back to my son? He’s young and easily tempted. As his mother, I have to eliminate the threat completely!” “Where are the scissors I asked for?” Judith screamed at the secretary, grabbing the scissors and hovering them over my face. “You only got close to my son because of this pretty face. If I ruin it, I’ll believe you won’t ever see him again.” “No… please, no…” As the sharp metal coldness neared my cheek, terror gripped me. But just as I braced for the worst, a phone rang. It was Julian, calling the secretary’s desk phone. He was demanding his lunch be sent up. I had arrived at the office in the morning. It was now past lunchtime. I had been subjected to hours of torture. I looked at the crowd blocking the doorway. Dozens of people, yet not a single one was willing to help me. I couldn’t escape this nightmare. But my heart ached most for my baby. My baby, who had every right to see this world, had been murdered by these monsters. I hated them. I wanted them all to rot in hell to accompany my child! Especially Judith. She was a mother too. How could she be so evil? “You still dare to glare at me?” Judith slapped me hard across the face, several times. “What? Unfair?” She raised the scissors and slashed them across my cheek. A sharp, burning pain flared up as my skin tore open. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. “What are you all doing standing around here? Don’t you have work to do? Does this company pay you to slack off?” It was Julian’s voice. Judith quickly pushed me under the coffee table, hiding me under the long tablecloth. Then, she walked out of the lounge casually. “Julian, sweetie, don’t blame them. I just had a few questions for your staff.” “Mom, why are you still here? This is a place of business, not your personal interrogation room.” “What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t even talk to your employees now?” Judith whined, pretending to be hurt. “That’s not what I meant. Just… go home, please.” Julian was standing right outside the door. I had to make some noise. I had to let him know I was in here. But the lounge was sparse, with only a sofa and a coffee table. As I tried to kick the table leg to make a sound, the secretary guarding me realized my plan. She immediately crouched down and clamped her hand over my mouth, choking back my cries. I was pinned down, completely silenced. My husband was just a door away, yet he couldn’t hear me. I hated him. I hated his mother, who killed our baby, ruined my face, and broke my body. “Aren’t you going to eat? Have someone bring it to your office. Don’t starve yourself,” Judith said smoothly. Julian sighed, turned around, and began walking back to his office. Listening to his fading footsteps, the tiny ember of hope in my chest died completely. I closed my eyes, letting my tears mix with the blood on my face. Suddenly, his voice sounded closer again. “Oh, by the way, Chloe, when you bring my lunch, bring the Q3 project proposal with you.” I heard the door to the VIP lounge creak open. “And whatever my mother asks you, just tell her you don’t know.” He finished his sentence and turned to leave, but suddenly stopped. He frowned. “Wait… why is there so much blood on the floor?”

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On Christmas Eve, my husband’s secretary, Chloe Bennett, updated her Instagram. “Ugh, what kind of company makes you travel on business on Christmas Eve? Every single hotel in town is fully booked! Thank god my handsome CEO is here to spend Christmas with me…” Below the caption was a sultry selfie of her lying on a bed, wearing a plush white bathrobe. Right next to her lay a man. The photo captured only his back—a toned, sun-kissed back that looked incredibly attractive. In the comments, tons of netizens swooned over how sexy and masculine the man was. Chloe, of course, couldn’t help but show off. She replied with a blushing emoji: *“So strong, so wild… my legs are still shaking.”* I let out a cold laugh. Opening my CashApp, I sent her a transfer of $66.60 with the note: *“Enjoy the room.”* A few minutes later, Chloe called. She was sobbing hysterically, claiming she had taken the photo of Julian Sterling by accident and had absolutely no intention of provoking me. Before I could say a word, Julian snatched the phone from her. His voice was dripping with impatience. “Daisy Vance, Chloe just started working as my secretary. Why do you have to be so passive-aggressive? Can you stop being so paranoid for one single day?” Then, he turned around and spoke to Chloe in a voice so tender it made my skin crawl. “Chloe, don’t take it to heart. She’s just crazy.” Hearing the soft, sweet giggles on the other end, I hung up. Julian and I had dated for three years and had been married for four. The dreaded seven-year itch had finally arrived, and we weren’t going to survive it. *** **1** At 2:00 AM, Julian finally came home. The moment he pushed the door open, our eyes met. Neither of us spoke. Julian’s gaze drifted to the table littered with takeout boxes. He marched over, snatched the leftover pizza and cheesecake right out of my hands, and threw them into the trash. “Eat, eat, eat! That’s all you know how to do! Keep this up and you’ll turn into a land whale!” The last time he had talked to me like this was a year ago, right after Chloe returned from studying abroad. Back then, he showered her with compliments in front of me, only to turn around and mock me for being “as bloated as a cow.” Since that day, I had eaten nothing but bland meal-prep salads for an entire year. Seeing that I remained silent, he tossed a package of high-end, tight shapewear onto my lap. “Chloe bought this for you. See how thoughtful she is? She said if you still don’t accept her apology, she’ll delete her Instagram account.” I looked at the tag on the shapewear. It read in bold letters: *“Instantly flattens fat and sculpts curves.”* I smiled. Chloe really knew exactly how to push my buttons. Julian saw my smile and assumed my anger had faded. He handed me my phone. “Since Chloe is being so sweet, aren’t you going to thank her?” I ignored him and kept my eyes on the TV. “Daisy! Are you fucking deaf?” He grabbed my arm and yanked me up. Taken off guard, I lost my balance and crashed hard onto the floor. My lower back slammed right against the sharp corner of the coffee table. A sharp, blinding pain shot through my body. The injury on my waist was a scar from seven years ago. During a terrible house fire, I had dragged Julian out of the burning building, only to be crushed by a collapsing wooden beam. It was a chronic injury that never fully healed. I curled into a ball on the floor, clutching my waist, shaking from the agony. Julian looked down at me, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “I’ll get the pain-relief cream.” I looked up at his retreating back. I wanted to tell him to stop, but the words caught in my throat. The pregnancy test results had been sitting in my drawer for three days now. When the results came out, the doctor had specifically warned me to stay stress-free in the early stages of pregnancy. She also told me to be extremely careful with medications—especially topical pain-relief creams. I had originally planned to tell him on Christmas Day that we were going to have a baby. But now, it seemed entirely unnecessary. Julian rummaged through the medicine cabinet frantically, but stopped after a few seconds. “Where is the cream? Did we…” He stopped mid-sentence. I caught the fleeting expression on his face—a mixture of guilt and sheer panic. Suddenly, I remembered Chloe’s reply to a comment on her Instagram post a few days ago: *“He’s such a caring guy. I accidentally burned my hand while cooking, and he immediately brought over his favorite imported scar gel to apply it for me.”* If this had happened in the past, I would have demanded to know if he had given my expensive prescription cream to Chloe. But this time, I didn’t even bother to expose him. I let out a tired laugh. “Julian, stop looking. I’ll go buy some myself.” Julian’s face hardened. “How are you going to go out looking like that? Just stay home. I’ll go—” Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and answered it instantly. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Chloe’s whimpering voice echoed through the quiet room. “Julian… I was feeling down, so I went to a bar for a drink. Some strange men are hitting on me and trying to force me to leave with them. They said… they said if I don’t go with them, they’ll hurt me…” “Julian, can you come save me? Please… I’m so scared…” Julian slammed the first-aid kit onto the couch and stood up abruptly. “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’m on my way.” “Julian, thank you… but maybe you shouldn’t come. If Daisy finds out, she’ll be furious. I’ll… I’ll find a way to handle it myself!” “She has no right to be angry.” With that, he cast a cold, dismissive glance at me as I lay curled on the floor. After hanging up, Julian rushed toward the front door. “Julian, wait,” I called out. “Daisy, can you stop throwing tantrums for once in your life?” he snapped, not even turning around. “You left your phone and wallet. How are you going to save her without them?” I pointed at the couch. His phone and wallet were lying quietly right next to the discarded first-aid kit. Julian stared at them, stunned for a brief second. “I’ll go get Chloe first. I’ll take you to the hospital when I get back.” Then, he slammed the door and left. *** **2** Morning came. Julian never returned. The pain in my abdomen grew so excruciating that I couldn’t bear it any longer. I finally called an ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics, I scrolled through Instagram. Sure enough, Chloe’s latest post popped up. She posted a long paragraph about how she was harassed by thugs at a bar, and how Julian had arrived just in time, getting into a fistfight to protect her. She wrote about how deeply moved she was. Beneath the post was a photo of Chloe, teary-eyed, gently dabbing ointment onto a bruise on Julian’s cheek. The caption read: *“Love can conquer all, and face all.”* One comment read: *“How can you resist a man that handsome right in front of you? Girl, you must be made of stone!”* Another added: *“Right? If he were in front of me, I’d be healing his wounds too, just… in a very different way… 😉”* Chloe replied with a smug emoji: *“Why the rush? He’ll be mine sooner or later anyway!”* Then, another user posted a video in the comment section: *“Omg, what a coincidence! I ran into you guys too!”* In the video, Chloe was crying like a damsel in distress while Julian yelled at the thugs, sweeping Chloe into his arms and carrying her out of the bar. The way he looked at her was filled with nothing but tenderness and fierce protection. My mind suddenly drifted back to two weeks ago. Julian had invited a group of business partners to a VIP lounge at a high-end club. When I arrived, the guests hadn’t shown up yet. Julian texted me saying something urgent had come up at the office and he’d be a bit late. Not long after, a man walked in. It was Carter Hayes, Julian’s main business partner. Julian often talked about him, praising him as a young genius who had secured a massive round of funding and was about to take his company public. Carter eyed me up and down, then slid onto the couch, sitting uncomfortably close to me. “Hey, beautiful. You’re even hotter than Julian described.” I gasped, but before I could speak, he clamped a hand over my mouth. “Julian told me you have an amazing body. He said you’re incredibly submissive—that no matter what we do to you, you won’t fight back.” Carter yanked my hair, forcing my head back against his shoulder. He whispered in my ear, “Are you really that obedient, sweetheart? No matter how rough I get?” I fought back frantically, trying to tear myself away from him. My resistance seemed to anger him. He bit my neck viciously. When I refused to scream, he took his freshly lit cigar and pressed the burning end right against my chest. The searing pain made me scream. I shoved him away with all my strength and ran out of the room. As I bolted into the lobby, I ran straight into Julian and Chloe. Julian didn’t even look at me. He kept his arm wrapped around Chloe’s waist and walked right past me. Chloe turned her head, flashing me a triumphant smirk. Around her neck was a stunning, heart-shaped yellow diamond necklace. I recognized it instantly. Julian had bid on that exact necklace at a Sotheby’s auction. He had told me he bought it as a Christmas gift for me. Later, he told me he changed his mind because I was “too out of shape” to pull it off. Julian didn’t come home until midnight, smelling strongly of whiskey. “Daisy, what the hell was wrong with you today? You ran off before the guests even arrived! Who do you think you are, throwing a princess tantrum like that?” In response to his shouting, I unzipped my dress, exposing the dark bite mark on my neck and the raw, blistered cigar burn on my chest. He gasped, stepping closer to inspect the wounds. “Oh my god, honey… does it hurt? How did this happen?” I told him exactly what Carter Hayes had done to me. Julian let out a harsh, mocking scoff. “Daisy, do you think I’m stupid?” “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable! Why would Carter ever look at you? Did you throw yourself at him to get his attention?” He grabbed my hair, dragging me to the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet. The woman in the mirror had messy hair, a pale face, and eyes swollen red from crying. “Look at yourself, Daisy. Who would ever want you?” “Look at the fat on your stomach. It’s disgusting.” With that, he walked back to the bedroom. I knelt on the cold floor of the closet and cried until dawn. The next day, Julian bought me a Cartier diamond necklace to “apologize.” I thought I had buried that memory deep down, but seeing the video of Julian saving Chloe today brought back all the disgust and humiliation. The ambulance arrived, and the paramedics lifted me onto a stretcher. While lying in the ER with an IV drip in my arm, I opened Snapchat and sent a message to my best friend, Mia Collins. *“Mia, I’m divorcing him.”* *** **3** After getting discharged, I rested at home for a few days. I thought I would finally get some peace, until my phone rang repeatedly, waking me up. I answered it weakly. Julian’s cold voice came through the speaker. “I’m picking you up for dinner.” Before I could reply, he hung up. Wanting to keep things civil before the divorce, I got dressed and went downstairs. Seeing my pale, exhausted face, Julian suddenly seemed to remember the pain cream he had promised to get. “The restaurant is near the medical center. Let’s stop by and get you checked out first.” “No need. It’s been days. The pain is gone.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I figured. It’s been seven years, after all. Any pain you feel now is probably just psychological.” I smiled bitterly. “Yeah. Seven years.” Seven years ago, I used every ounce of my strength to push Julian out of the collapsing house, leaving myself trapped in the raging fire. I suffered three broken ribs and a fractured tailbone. To this day, even a minor bump caused agonizing pain. I had never told him about the chronic pain because I didn’t want him to feel guilty. But he chose to believe I was just “delusional.” But then again, we had been together for seven years. If he had loved me even a little, how could he not know how much I was hurting? Julian kept talking as he drove, explaining what happened the other night. “After I got Chloe out of the bar, she was traumatized. I stayed with her for a couple of days to make sure she was safe. Don’t go making up stories in your head.” I stared out the window blankly. “I’m not making up stories. She’s your secretary. It’s only right that you take care of her.” Clearly annoyed by my flat tone, Julian slammed on the brakes. The sudden jolt knocked my AirPods onto the floor. I leaned down to search for them under the passenger seat. Instead of my AirPods, my hand brushed against a pair of sheer, lacy G-strings. If this had been two weeks ago, I would have held up the underwear and screamed at him. But now, I simply smiled, picked them up, and tossed them onto the backseat. Julian’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, that… Chloe probably left them there after her swimming lesson. It was an accident.” I nodded. “Okay.” And went back to staring out the window. At the restaurant, a young couple at the next table kept staring at us. Realizing I had noticed them, the girl walked over to our table. “Excuse me, are you the billionaire CEO from Chloe Bennett’s Instagram? Oh my gosh, you are even more handsome in person!” Julian looked up at her. “Can I help you?” The girl asked eagerly, “Are you and Chloe actually dating?” Julian glanced at me as I quietly chewed my food. He smiled at the girl. “Yes, Chloe and I are dating.” I looked up and smiled politely at the girl, even as a sharp, sudden cramp bloomed in my lower abdomen. The girl looked at me, confused. “Then… who is she?” “Our housekeeper,” Julian replied smoothly. Before leaving, the girl squealed at Julian, “I’m such a fan of you two! You guys have to get married!” Julian watched them leave, then placed a scoop of ice cream on my plate. “Don’t take it personally, Daisy. The ‘Billionaire CEO falls for me’ series Chloe is posting is doing wonders for our company’s PR. She’s so happy right now. If I ruin her fantasy in public, she’ll be devastated.” “I don’t care,” I said quietly. “You don’t need to explain.” The sharp cramp in my stomach intensified. My face went completely pale, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. On the drive back, Julian’s phone rang again. It was Chloe. “Julian… can you come pick me up from the indoor pool? The cover-up I brought is a bit too revealing, and I don’t feel safe taking an Uber. Please? Pretty please…” Unable to resist her whining, Julian let out a fond chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’m on my way.” Julian hung up and grabbed my hand, kissing it. “Let’s go pick up Chloe together, honey. That way, you won’t have to worry.” “Julian, you can’t go,” I gasped, clutching my stomach. “My stomach hurts so bad. Take me to the hospital. Now!” His face darkened instantly. “Daisy, can you stop being so dramatic? I offered to bring you along so you wouldn’t get jealous, and now you’re playing the sick card?” “I am not playing! Take me to the hospital! I’m not joking, Julian, it hurts so bad!” “Stop acting. You’re terrible at it.” Suddenly, I felt a warm, thick rush of liquid flowing between my thighs. “Julian… I’m pregnant. My stomach is in agony, and I think I’m having a miscarriage! We need to go to the hospital right now!” Julian didn’t believe a word. He looked at me with pure disgust. “You usually play games, but now you’re lying about being pregnant?” “We’ve been married for four years without protection. You never got pregnant once. Now that I’m going to pick up Chloe, you suddenly have a baby in your womb?” His anger boiled over, and he slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the curb. “Get the fuck out! Out!” “Aren’t you in a rush to go to the hospital? Bleeding and hurting? Then get out and call an Uber! Stop wasting my time. I need to get Chloe!” “Fine. I’ll get out.” But as I reached for the door handle, he grabbed my arm. “I’ve been way too soft on you. It’s made you completely unmanageable!” “Let’s get a divorce, Julian.” The words seemed to freeze him. “Divorce?” I nodded slowly. “Mia already drafted the papers.” He let go of my arm, staring at me in shock. “Are you serious, Daisy? You better think this through. Once you leave me, no one is going to want a dramatic, manipulative woman like you.” “I’ve thought it through. Goodbye.” I opened the door and stepped out. But before I could even clear the car, Julian slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The sudden acceleration knocked me off balance, throwing me violently onto the asphalt. Amidst the screams of pedestrians, I collapsed in a pool of blood. Julian’s car sped away, never once braking. TThe blood pooled beneath me, spreading out like bright, crimson spider lilies blooming on the road to hell.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “453558”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I married a mute girl who was nothing but a stand-in. For three years, I treated her with absolute coldness. On the day she died, she left me with only three things: a voice recorder, a diary, and a sign language translator. That was when I finally learned— She was the little girl I rescued when I was ten. She was the savior who pulled me out of the car wreck when I was seventeen. She was the wife who had loved me silently for twenty years. And I was the one who personally drove her to her death. **1** I married Sera Vance on a cloudy day. There was no wedding, no rings. We just signed the papers and took a quick photo at City Hall. She tried her best to smile for the camera, but her lips were stiff. I knew why. The night before, I had told her, “Your profile looks just like Chloe’s. Too bad you’re mute.” During our three years of marriage, she was invisible to me. Tonight, I brought another woman home to spend the night, deliberately letting her see. Sera sat in the darkest corner of the living room, looking like a faded shadow. The other woman’s high heels clicked past her, her perfume suffocatingly strong. “Ethan, your maid is really quiet,” she giggled, leaning into me. That wasn’t a maid. That was my wife. But I just said, “Yeah, she won’t make a sound.” In the middle of the night, I went downstairs for a glass of water. Sera was still sitting there. When she saw me, she slowly raised her hands. Her fingers traced shapes in the air, over and over again. I recognized that gesture: money. “Can you give me a hundred thousand dollars? It’s to save a life,” she signed, her eyes filled with fear. I laughed. I pulled my checkbook from my suit pocket, tore off a page, crouched down, and tossed it onto her lap. “Faking an illness?” I sneered. “A mute like you doesn’t deserve to copy Chloe’s pitiful acts.” Her eyelashes trembled. She looked down at the paper, slowly curling her fingers into a tight fist. Her shoulders were shaking. *Quite an actress,* I thought. I stood up and poured myself a glass of whiskey, watching her through the reflection of the bar mirror. She bent down, picked up the check, and held it up to the light. She stared at it so seriously, as if she could actually cash it. “What do you need the money for?” I asked casually. She signed, *My brother’s surgery.* “What brother? Since when do you have family?” I scoffed. “Or is it some secret lover you’re keeping on the side?” She snapped her head up, her eyes turning red. She shook her head frantically, her signing fast and chaotic: *No! My real brother! He’s in the hospital!* “Enough,” I cut her off. “I’ll have my assistant wire you ten thousand dollars tomorrow. Take it and stop bothering me.” She froze. Slowly lowering her hands, she folded the check into a tiny square and clutched it tightly in her palm. I turned and walked upstairs. At the top of the stairs, I looked back. She was still sitting there, staring at her palm. A single tear fell onto the check, and she quickly wiped it away with her sleeve. How ridiculous. She did it all for money, yet she still acted so aggrieved. Her brother? She had never mentioned him. It was probably just another lie to squeeze cash out of me. A week later, Sera vanished. At first, I didn’t even notice. She was like air—practically invisible. It wasn’t until the third day that our housekeeper asked hesitantly, “Mr. Sterling, is Mrs. Sterling on a business trip? Should I clean her room?” Only then did I realize I hadn’t seen her in a while. On the dining table lay a divorce agreement. The paper was slightly wrinkled, and her signature, “Seraphina Vance,” was shaky and uneven, as if she had barely had the strength to write it. The last stroke dragged out, unfinished. Next to it was a printed note: *I’m sorry for wasting three years of your life.* Just that one sentence. I crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. Right then, Chloe called. “Ethan, I’m back! I made some soup right after landing. Can I bring it over?” “Sure,” I replied. “Bring enough for tonight. You’re staying over.” **2** Chloe arrived and naturally walked into the master bedroom. Spotting Sera’s lip balm on the vanity, she frowned and tossed it into the trash. “Ethan, we should redecorate this house,” she said. “There are too many traces of that other girl everywhere.” “Do whatever you want,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her waist. Late at night, Chloe fell asleep. Driven by some strange urge, I walked over to Sera’s room and pushed the door open. It was completely empty. The closet doors were wide open, leaving nothing but bare hangers. The vanity was spotless, not even a single strand of hair left behind. Only the bookshelf remained full—stacked with sign language textbooks, from beginner to advanced, arranged by year. I pulled one out and flipped through it. On the margins, there were neat pencil notes in her elegant handwriting: *”Today I learned how to sign ‘Hello,’ but no one said it to me.”* *”The nurse signed ‘Keep fighting’ to me, and I cried.”* *”If I could speak, what would be the first thing I’d want to say?”* On the very last page, there was a tiny line: *”I want to ask him if he still remembers the little girl by the river.”* The little girl by the river? What nonsense. I shoved the book back, turned off the light, and left. It was better this way. It was time to make room for Chloe anyway. Three months passed with zero news of Sera. Since Chloe and I had made up, we had been living together. On the day she officially moved in, she hired movers to throw out all of Sera’s things. The sofa, the curtains, the tableware—everything was replaced. “Finally, this place feels like our home,” Chloe said, leaning against my shoulder. I nodded, but an inexplicable irritation clawed at my chest. That afternoon, my phone rang with an unknown number. “Hello, is this Mr. Ethan Sterling? This is the Greenfield Care Center.” “What is it?” “Ms. Seraphina Vance’s body has been kept in our morgue for three months past the limit. We need a family member to handle the final arrangements. Regarding the fees—” I interrupted, “Is this a new scam? How much did she pay you to put on this show?” The voice on the other end faltered. “Mr. Sterling, this is not a show. Ms. Vance passed away three months ago, and her body has been unclaimed. We found your number in her emergency contacts. You are listed as her husband.” I laughed. “She really knows who to target. Let me tell you, Seraphina is perfectly fine. I just heard from her yesterday.” I hung up. Sitting in my office, I lit a cigarette. Through the rising smoke, my fingers subconsciously tapped the keyboard. I logged into my online banking to check her authorized card’s transaction history. On the fifth of every month, there was a recurring $10,000 charge to “Greenfield Care Center.” It had gone on for three years, never missing a month. The last payment was made three months ago—exactly when she disappeared. Ten thousand dollars. Exactly the amount I had promised her. I clicked on the payment details. The recipient was indeed Greenfield Care Center. The memo for every single transaction read: *Care fees for Leo Vance.* Leo Vance. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Then I remembered—when we got married, I had glanced at her family registry. She had a younger brother named Leo. At the time, I thought he was just some distant relative and ignored it. I called the care center back, my tone completely different. “I’m Leo Vance’s family. I want to know what’s going on.” The representative was polite. “Mr. Vance has been in a vegetative state since a car accident in 2016. His sister, Ms. Seraphina Vance, has been solely responsible for his expenses and visits. But she hasn’t shown up in three months, and we haven’t been able to reach her.” A car accident in 2016. “We heard he was hit by a car while trying to save a child.” Leo… a vegetative state… Sera paying ten thousand a month… Where did she get that kind of money? I drove home and went straight to the guest room she had occupied for three years—which was now Chloe’s walk-in closet. Chloe wasn’t home. I pushed the door open. The room was packed with her designer clothes and bags. In the corner sat a few cardboard boxes labeled “For Trash.” Those were the last of Sera’s belongings. **3** I opened the first box. It contained her clothes—painfully plain and worn. The sweaters were pilled, and the shirt collars were frayed. Not a single decent outfit. The second box was filled with books. All about sign language and special education. At the bottom of the box was a small metal tin, locked shut. I grabbed a pair of pliers and snapped the lock. Inside was a pink diary with a worn plastic cover and a few faded photographs. I opened it. On the title page, a line of ink was slightly smudged: *To the little hero who saved me — Seraphina, June 2010.* 2010. The year I was ten. My fingers trembled as I turned the pages. *June 12, 2010. Sunny.* *Today by the river, a giant billboard suddenly fell. A boy rushed over and pushed me out of the way. He got hit instead. His arm was bleeding so much, and I was terrified. But he smiled at me and said, “It’s fine, I’m a tough guy.”* *His eyes were so bright. I asked for his name, and he said “Ethan.” Ethan Sterling.* *I took him to the clinic. He winced in pain while the nurse bandaged him up, but he kept saying, “It doesn’t hurt, really.”* *When he left, he told me, “Be careful next time, little girl.”* *I wanted to say thank you, but I was too nervous and couldn’t make a sound. I could only nod frantically.* *June 20, 2010. Cloudy.* *I went back to the river to wait for him, but he didn’t show up. Mom said I was silly, that he’d never remember a passing remark. But I believe he will.* *July 5, 2010. Rainy.* *I saw him on the street today! He was with a group of boys, laughing loudly. I wanted to say hi, but I didn’t dare. I’m such a coward.* The diary entries were sporadic, with only a few pages for each year. Every single one was about “Ethan.” The final entry was dated June 17, 2016—the day of my car crash. The handwriting was messy, written in hurried pencil: *A car crash on Redwood Road. He was hit. When I rushed over to pull him out, a shard of glass sliced deep into my neck.* *It hurt so badly. But I had to save him.* *He was bleeding everywhere. I couldn’t scream, so I could only pull him with all my strength.* *The ambulance arrived. They wouldn’t let me get in because I couldn’t speak.* *Which hospital did they take him to? Is he still alive?* *God, please, let him live.* The diary ended there. The rest of the pages were completely blank. I collapsed onto the floor, my back against the closet. The diary in my hand felt as heavy as lead. So the little girl by the river was her. She had known me since she was ten. She had remembered me all this time. Why did she never say a word? I drove straight to the hospital where Sera had been treated. I used my connections to find Dr. Robert Bennett, who had treated her back then. He was already retired, but I practically dragged him out to meet me. “Seraphina Vance? I remember her,” Dr. Bennett said, adjusting his glasses. “That poor girl broke my heart.” “What happened to her voice?” “It wasn’t congenital. When she was sixteen, she suffered a penetrating neck wound. A shard of glass severed her vocal cords. When she was brought in, she was covered in blood, but she kept frantically signing, asking about another patient’s condition.” “Where did she get injured?” “Redwood Road. On the afternoon of June 17, 2016.” Dr. Bennett remembered it vividly. “That massive pile-up killed three people. The teenager she saved was lucky to survive.” My throat tightened. “The person she saved… was it me?” Dr. Bennett looked at me and sighed. “So it was you. She shielded you with her body. When the glass flew toward you, she pushed you away, taking the blow herself…” “Why didn’t she tell me?” my voice cracked. “Why did no one tell me?” “She wanted to, but she couldn’t speak.” **4** Dr. Bennett pulled an old medical record from his drawer. “Besides, there was another girl who stayed by your bedside the whole time, claiming she was your savior. We assumed they were friends.” It was Chloe. She had stolen Sera’s credit. “And Seraphina didn’t deny it?” “How could she? She couldn’t speak, and her hands shook too violently to write.” Dr. Bennett let out a bitter laugh. “Plus, that Chloe girl told us Seraphina was just a random passerby who lent a hand. So we believed her.” I took the file and flipped to the injury report: *Penetrating neck trauma, severed vocal cords. Multiple glass shards remaining. Surgery recommended, but patient’s family refused to sign the consent form.* *Patient herself vehemently insisted on prioritizing the treatment of Ethan Sterling (the other victim).* *Note: Patient cannot speak, communicates via writing. Repeatedly inquires about Ethan Sterling’s condition and begs us not to inform the Sterling family of her injuries to avoid placing a financial burden on them.* My eyes welled with hot tears. That foolish girl. She was hurt so badly, yet she was still worried about being a burden to me. “Did her voice… never recover?” Dr. Bennett shook his head. “She missed the critical window for surgery. By the time she wanted to do it later, she had no money.” “No money?” I froze. “My family was supposed to cover all the medical expenses back then—” “She refused it,” Dr. Bennett said, looking at me. “Your father did go to see her and offered financial compensation. She turned it down. The only thing she asked for was a photo of your recovery.” I couldn’t stand anymore. I collapsed into a chair, my head spinning. So all these years, she had remained mute because of me. The car accident—she was the one who saved me. And Chloe… had lied to me for seven years. What have I done? Greenfield Care Center was located in the suburbs, a place so quiet it felt almost desolate. I registered at the front desk. When the nurse heard I was Leo Vance’s family, her expression turned complicated. “Ms. Vance hasn’t been here in three months,” she said. “She used to come every single Sunday, without fail.” “Take me to him.” The room was at the end of the second floor. I pushed the door open to see a thin young man lying on the bed, hooked up to various tubes. He looked to be in his early twenties, and his facial features closely resembled Sera’s. He lay there with his eyes closed, as if sleeping peacefully. The nurse said softly, “Leo Vance has been in a vegetative state for years. In 2016, he was hit by a car while pushing a child out of the way.” 2016 again. Saving someone again. Did this brother and sister never learn to put themselves first? “Did his sister… come often?” “Every Sunday.” The nurse retrieved a small metal tin from a drawer. “This is what Ms. Vance left behind. She said if she ever couldn’t make it, to give it to whoever came to see Leo.” I opened the tin. Inside was an old voice recorder and a stack of small notes. The notes were filled with handwritten messages, some already faded: *”Leo, today I learned how to cook your favorite braised pork.”* *”Leo, Ethan smiled today, though it wasn’t because of me.”* *”Leo, you have to wake up quickly. I might not be able to… accompany you for much longer.”* The recorder was low on battery. I asked the nurse for a charger and plugged it in. Once it powered up, I pressed play. After some static, her soft, strained breathing filled the room. The first recording, dated three years ago: *”Leo, I got married today. He’s a wonderful man, even though he doesn’t love me yet. But that’s okay. Just being able to see him every day makes me so happy.”* *”Your surgery is still short on funds, but he gave me a credit card. Leo, you’re going to be saved.”* *”When you get better, I’ll take you to meet him. I know he’ll like you.”* The second recording, two years ago: *”Leo, I’m sorry. I’m really sad today.”* *”He brought another woman home and made me sleep in the guest room. That woman wore my slippers and used my cup.”* *”But I have no right to be sad. This marriage was stolen by me in the first place.”* *”As long as you get better, I can endure anything.”* The third recording, one year ago: *”Leo, I’m sick. My throat hurts terribly, and I’ve been coughing up blood.”* *”The doctor says it’s late-stage cancer.”* *”The surgery costs a fortune, and there’s only a thirty percent survival rate. If it fails, I’ll lose my voice forever.”* *”But I’ve already lost my voice anyway. So, I won’t do the treatment.”* *”I’ll save the money for your awakening surgery. Leo, you have to live well for both of us.”* The fourth recording, six months ago: *”Ethan asked me today why I’m always acting mute. He said the way I try to play the victim makes him sick.”* *”Leo, I’m not acting. I really… can’t make a sound.”* *”If I could speak, I would tell him: I am the little girl by the river, and I am the one who saved you on Redwood Road.”* *”But I can’t. Maybe it’s for the best. Some secrets are meant to be taken to the grave.”* **5** The final recording, three months ago: *”Leo, this is my last recording.”* *”I’ve finally gathered enough for your surgery. Two hundred thousand dollars, exactly.”* *”Ethan refused to give me the money, but that’s okay. I sold everything I could—my wedding ring, grandmother’s emerald necklace, and the gold chain my mother left me.”* *”I was still short by two thousand. So I went to sell my plasma. The nurse said I was too thin and didn’t want to take it, but I begged her until she drew a full bottle.”* *”I feel so dizzy, but when I think about your surgery, the dizziness fades.”* *”Leo, I’m sorry. I can only walk with you this far.”* *”If the surgery is a success and you wake up… please don’t hate me for leaving you.”* *”And please don’t hate Ethan. He’s the boy I’ve loved since I was ten. I’ve loved him for twenty whole years.”* *”Loving someone is never a crime.”* *”The only mistake was mine, for wishing he could love me back.”* The recording ended with muffled, suppressed crying. Then, with what seemed like all her remaining strength, she uttered a few broken, agonizing syllables: *”E… th… an…”* *”I… love…”* *”you…”* The audio cut out. I sat in the hospital room, clutching the recorder. My tears splashed onto my hands, burning hot. The nurse stood by the door and whispered, “The last day Ms. Vance came, she couldn’t even walk. The orderly had to push her up in a wheelchair.” “She sat here for the entire afternoon, holding her brother’s hand.” “When she left, she signed: ‘Leo, when I become a star, I will always be watching over you.’” I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking violently. Seraphina, come back. I’ll give everything back to you. Please, come back. When I stormed back home, Chloe was trying on a newly bought dress. “Ethan, look at this—” She froze when she saw the expression on my face. “What’s wrong?” “Redwood Road, 2016,” I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “Who was the person who actually saved me?” Chloe’s face instantly drained of color. “O-of course it was me. Why are you suddenly asking this…” “Seraphina’s vocal cords were severed by flying glass during that crash.” I glared at her. “She pushed me out of the way, taking the blow to save my life. And you—you stole her credit, lying to me for seven years!” Chloe took a step back, bumping into the vanity. Bottles and jars shattered all over the floor. “I didn’t mean to…” she sobbed, her voice trembling. “You were unconscious, and I just happened to pass by. When the nurse asked if I was the one who saved you, I… I had a moment of weakness…” “A moment of weakness?” I let out a dry laugh, tears streaming down my face. “You stole the fact that she saved my life! You stole seven years of my gratitude! You stole the love that belonged to her! And you’re telling me it was just a moment of weakness?!” “But Seraphina herself never said anything!” Chloe screamed suddenly. “If she wanted to tell you, she would have! She chose to stay silent!” “How could she tell me?!” I grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. “Her vocal cords were severed! Her hands shook too much to write! And you threatened her, didn’t you? Tell me you threatened her!” Chloe’s pupils contracted in terror. In that instant, I understood everything. “What did you say to her?” my voice was cold as ice. “What did you tell her?” “I… I said if you knew the truth, you’d live with guilt for the rest of your life,” Chloe wept. “I said you had just recovered from a severe injury and couldn’t handle the shock. I said… I said if your life was miserable because of her, she would suffer even more.” “And she believed you.” I let go of her, stumbling back. “She actually believed your toxic lies.” That was why Seraphina stayed silent. That was why she watched me shower Chloe with gratitude, watch me pamper Chloe, and watch me give all the tenderness that belonged to her to another woman. She didn’t even have the courage to tell me who she was. Because she was terrified of making me feel guilty. Because that foolish girl would rather swallow all her pain than cause me a single moment of discomfort. “Get out,” I told Chloe. “Ethan…” “Pack your trash and get out of my house. Never let me see your face again.”

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Five years after my parents kicked me out of the Bennett family mansion, my ex-boyfriend, Ethan Carter, knocked on the door of my cramped studio apartment. “Your parents are getting old, Chloe. They want you back home.” I was about to say no. But then I thought about my company’s current funding round. To secure the final group of investors, I desperately needed the leverage of being a “Bennett heiress.” So, I agreed. After returning to the Bennett estate, I became exactly what they wanted. Poised, quiet, and no longer acting like an annoying personal housekeeper. The wellness tonics I used to stay up all night brewing for Mom were replaced by expensive jewelry I bought on a whim. The constant nagging for Dad to take his meds turned into empty, polite small talk. Even when Ethan was about to get engaged to Serena, the fake daughter, I just smiled and congratulated them. I thought they would finally be satisfied. But after just one week, Ethan broke down and confronted me. “Chloe, you never used to treat me like this…” Even my parents pleaded with tearful eyes, “Chloe, can’t you just go back to the way you were?” *** **1** Hearing Ethan’s voice outside, I paused for a couple of seconds before finally opening the door. “Can I help you?” I leaned against the doorframe, making no move to let him in. Ethan didn’t seem to mind. His eyes swept over the tiny, cramped space behind me, wrinkling his nose at the smell of instant ramen. He frowned. “Chloe, I’m here to take you home. Your parents are getting older, and their health isn’t what it used to be. They talk about you all the time.” “They want you back. They want us to be a family again.” I didn’t say anything. I just let out a cold laugh. What was there to go back to? Five years ago, I didn’t leave by choice. They threw me out. Five years ago, Serena secretly drank the organic gut-healing wellness broth I had spent four hours brewing for Mom. She had an allergic reaction, and her face broke out in a horrific red rash. My mother was devastated. Furious, she screamed at me: “All you do is obsess over cooking and cleaning! Do you have any dignity as a Bennett? Did I ask you to act like a cheap maid? I can take care of my own health! You’re just trying to poison us!” “I regret ever bringing you back from that middle-of-nowhere town. You’ve made me the laughingstock of my social circle!” My father cast a disgusted look at me and made a cold decision. “We brought her back, we can send her away.” “Get her out of here! Now!” The maids took the hint. They brutally stuffed my belongings into a suitcase and threw it out the door. The latches popped open when it hit the pavement. My clothes spilled out, scattered messily on the ground. Just like my dignity—shattered into a million pieces. I was so terrified back then. Feeling completely helpless, I looked at my boyfriend, Ethan, begging him with my eyes to speak up for me. Our eyes met for a split second. “Fix your own mess,” he said. Then, he coldly looked away, gently lifting the allergic Serena into his arms and rushing her to the hospital. I was left standing there like a fool, picking up my dirty clothes and shoving them back into the broken suitcase. As my mother screamed, “Get out and never come back!” I was officially exiled from the Bennett family. It has been five years. Honestly, I’m doing pretty well now. This cheap apartment was the only place I could afford when they kicked me out. I was actually scheduled to move into a nice condo next week, which is why the place was a messy disaster of half-packed boxes. And the instant ramen? It was just faster than waiting for UberEats. My startup, SIO, was close to wrapping up its Series A funding. The time I saved on cooking was time I could use to polish two more pages of my pitch deck. But then, I thought about the funding… If I had the title of “the Bennett Heiress,” those last few stubborn investors would probably sign the checks without hesitation. My tight grip on the doorknob slowly loosened. Maybe I had been too greedy back then. Why search for love when money is so much better? So, I heard my own voice echo in the hallway: “Fine. I’ll go back with you.” Ethan nodded, completely unsurprised. He probably thought I should be crying tears of gratitude to escape this dump for a mansion. “Give me half an hour. I need to pack.” “No need,” Ethan said, stopping me in my tracks. “This junk… there’s no point in bringing it to the mansion. That laptop looks decent, though. Company-issued? Just bring that.” I didn’t bother explaining. I just nodded silently, slid my laptop into my bag, threw away the ramen, and locked the door. I followed Ethan downstairs. His luxury sports car stood out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. A familiar figure was leaning against the passenger side. Before I could even get a close look, a sweet, high-pitched voice called out: “Chloe!” It was Serena. **Chapter 2** *** **2** Ethan froze for a second, clearly not expecting Serena to show up. He quickly turned to me to explain, “Chloe, I didn’t ask her to come!” Then he turned and snapped at her, “Serena, didn’t I tell you to stay at the house? Why did you have to…” I knew exactly why Ethan was nervous. Serena and I had always been at each other’s throats. Back then, I thought she had stolen my parents’ love from me. Now I realized you can’t steal something that was never yours to begin with. I cut Ethan off to keep the peace. “It’s fine. Serena was probably just worried about you. It’s late. Let’s get in the car.” With that, I opened the door to the backseat. Ethan instinctively reached out to stop me, giving me a puzzled look. “Aren’t you riding shotgun? I saved it specifically for you this time.” I frowned, not understanding his game. In the past, no matter how much I threw a fit, the shotgun seat always belonged to Serena as long as she was around. “No, thanks. Serena likes the front seat, right? Let her have it.” “It wouldn’t feel right for me to sit there.” Ethan fell silent, but his gaze in the rearview mirror grew increasingly baffled. Serena sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at me. Seeing me quietly typing away on my laptop in the back, she tried to bait me with a fake, sweet tone. “Chloe, you’re so lucky to be coming back.” “Mom and Dad redecorated a room just for you. They styled it exactly like my old room. Finally, you don’t have to stay in the guest room anymore!” She turned around, giving me a smug, provocative smirk. I knew exactly what reaction she wanted. But I was genuinely too busy to waste energy on her. Without even looking up, I gave a distracted reply, “Oh, really? That’s nice of them.” Serena’s smile faltered. She probably thought the last five years of living in poverty had broken my spirit, making me submissive. Her tone turned even more passive-aggressive as she rattled on. “By the way, Chloe, so much has changed since you left. For my birthday two years ago, Mom built me a beautiful glass greenhouse in the backyard filled with rare orchids. If you want to garden now, you won’t get scolded for making a mess anymore!” “And Dad bought me a gorgeous diamond necklace on his last business trip. Come to think of it, did Dad ever buy you a gift? I can give you a couple of my old ones if you want!” “Oh, and this watch? Ethan got it for me at an auction for my birthday last year…” “Serena, shut up!” Ethan’s sharp voice cut her off before she could finish boasting. My fingers paused on the keyboard, and I raised an eyebrow in surprise. What was this? A lover’s spat right in front of me? Terrified of getting dragged into their drama, I kept my mouth shut and typed even more quietly. An hour later, the car pulled into the driveway of the Bennett estate. The moment we stepped out, my parents rushed down from the porch to greet us. Under the warm lights, their ecstatic smiles looked almost surreal. My mother reached me first, scanning me up and down. “Chloe, you’re finally home! Are you exhausted?” “Look at you, you’ve gotten so thin. But you’re home now, and that’s all that matters!” Even my father, who had never given me a kind look in his life, softened his voice. He offered a warm smile. “You must be hungry. Let’s head inside. We can catch up over dinner.” To be honest, seeing them this welcoming didn’t bring me any joy. I didn’t feel like I had regained my lost family; I was just terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting them off. I replied with cautious politeness, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I could have grabbed a bite on the way, you really didn’t have to go through the trouble of making dinner. Sorry for causing an inconvenience.” My parents’ smiles froze. They clearly hadn’t expected such a distant, formal response. My mother stammered, “Oh, silly girl. I’m your mother. You don’t need to thank me.” “Exactly,” my father added. “This is your home. It’s just dinner. No need to be so polite.” We walked into the dining room. I didn’t hesitate and headed straight for the seat furthest from the head of the table—my usual spot. When I looked up, I saw my father’s hand frozen in mid-air; he had been gesturing for me to sit right next to him. I gave him a polite, harmless smile. “Thanks, Dad. But I’ll just sit here. I’m used to this spot.” Seeing my refusal, Serena seized the opportunity and slid into the chair next to him. “Dad, if Chloe doesn’t want to, I’ll sit next to you!” My father glanced at Serena with a flicker of annoyance, giving a low grunt in response. The meal was incredibly quiet. Years ago, I would desperately try to find topics to talk about during dinner, trying to bring up things I thought they would find interesting. I would gesture wildly, babbling with a desperate, pleasing smile on my face, begging to be noticed. Back then, all I got was my mother’s disgust: “Learn some manners from Serena. Sit up and eat quietly!” And my father’s scolding: “No talking at the dinner table. When are you going to drop those uncivilized habits from that town?” Now, I had learned my lesson. I ate in absolute silence, barely making a sound as I chewed. My parents kept glancing at me, exchanging hesitant looks. Finally, unable to take the silence, Mom spoke up. “Chloe, your father and I talked it over. Didn’t you always want to work at Bennett Enterprises?” “We’ve arranged everything. You can start tomorrow.” Dad nodded in agreement. “You’ll start as an entry-level employee at one of our subsidiaries to gain some experience. In six months… a year at most, we’ll transfer you to headquarters.” He paused, then added proudly, “And we’ll make sure you get the exact same benefits and allowance as Serena.” They smiled at each other, waiting for me to shower them with gratitude. But I just shook my head slightly and turned them down flat. “No, thank you, Mom, Dad. I’m actually very happy with my current job.” “Have you heard of SIO?” My parents blinked, clearly familiar with the name. Ethan chimed in, trying to guide me. “SIO is a relatively new startup, but it’s got a lot of potential in the tech world.” “Still, Chloe, with your background, you’d probably spend your whole life stuck as a receptionist or an admin assistant there.” “Coming to Bennett Enterprises is a much smarter career move.” Hearing Ethan say that was almost comical. I let out a soft, dry chuckle. “No, you misunderstand.” “I founded SIO. I’m the CEO.” **Chapter 3** *** **3** Ethan looked like he forgot how to breathe, staring at me with wide eyes for several seconds. I didn’t bother throwing any witty comebacks his way. Honestly, the dinner had gotten boring. I stood up and nodded politely to the stunned audience. “Mom, Dad, Serena, Ethan. Enjoy your meal. I’m done, so I’ll head up to rest.” I grabbed my bag and headed straight to the second floor. I was exhausted. I didn’t care about the room Serena said was “newly decorated.” As long as there was a bed, I was fine. After a quick shower, I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. The next morning, I walked downstairs. Hearing movement, Mom eagerly hurried from her room toward the kitchen. She had her usual annoyed scowl ready as she began to lecture, “Chloe, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop wasting your time cooking those low-class dishes. I don’t need you to—” Her voice cut off instantly. The kitchen was completely empty. As she stood there confused, I spoke up from behind her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t do that anymore.” I reached into my bag, pulled out a velvet box, and slid it into her hands. “I won this ruby piece at a Sotheby’s auction recently.” “The clarity is pretty decent. Wear it whenever you want.” My mother stared blankly at the box. As her fingers brushed against the cold metal and stones, a chill washed over her. For a split second, she found herself desperately missing the steaming wellness broths I used to bring her. Just then, Dad walked out into the hallway, massaging his temples. He was frowning, muttering to himself, “Another headache… I forgot my pills again. My memory is shot…” He looked up and noticed me standing there. Out of habit, he grumbled defensively, “Did you hear that? Don’t start nagging me. I am your father, show some respect. You used to follow me around babbling in my ear, driving me absolutely insane.” Since he put it that way, I had no intention of arguing. I nodded politely. “I understand. Good morning, Dad. I’m heading to the office now.” I turned and left immediately, not wanting to annoy him. The front door clicked shut, leaving the house completely quiet. But instead of feeling relieved, Dad’s headache worsened, and a heavy, suffocating weight settled in his chest. During lunch, Ethan texted me, asking to grab a bite together. I turned him down. A few minutes later, my phone lit up again. [Serena is coming over for lunch. Do you know any good fine-dining spots nearby?] I blinked. It was bizarre that a wealthy heir like Ethan would ask me for restaurant recommendations. But I kept my cool and forwarded him a few upscale spots. [These are all great. I have corporate accounts there, just put it on my tab.] The chat stayed quiet for a long time. I couldn’t tell if Ethan was shocked or angry. He finally replied with three rapid-fire messages: [Fine] [Fine] [Fine] I didn’t reply. There was no point. I just thought Ethan was being incredibly weird. When we were dating, I clung to him, and he found me annoying. Now, five years after we broke up, I had no idea why he was throwing a tantrum. I quickly scarfed down a sandwich and got back to work. Since the news of my return to the Bennett family had gone public, the final group of investors had started signing on. However, Vance Capital—the biggest and most crucial venture capital firm—still hadn’t made a move. I decided to customize a brand-new pitch deck specifically for them. I was so swamped that I didn’t even have time to go home for dinner. For the next few days, I kept up this exact routine. I never touched the kitchen. I occasionally dropped off expensive little gifts for Mom. I greeted Dad with polite, empty pleasantries and never asked about his health. As for Ethan’s constant messages—updates about taking Serena to an art gallery today, a movie tomorrow, a concert the next day—I barely looked at them, let alone replied. I was finally acting like the quiet, elegant heiress they had always wanted. One evening, due to a last-minute cancellation of a video conference, I arrived home two hours earlier than usual. Seeing them all chatting in the living room, I intended to give a polite nod and head upstairs. But Ethan suddenly called out, “Chloe, Serena and I are getting engaged!” **Chapter 4** *** **4** I paused on the stairs and offered a polite smile. “Oh, really? That’s wonderful news! Congratulations!” “I’ll make sure to send a generous check as an engagement gift. I wish you two a lifetime of happiness.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. My parents stood up, looking flustered and trying to explain. “Chloe, we know you must be upset.” “But Serena is our daughter too, and she’s loved Ethan since they were kids. Before, we hesitated because of you… but now that you’re so successful on your own, we thought…” They stammered, unable to piece together a coherent, logical excuse. But I knew the truth. Favoritism is human nature. Serena was the adopted daughter, but my parents simply loved her more. Whether it was five years ago or now, they had never approved of me being with Ethan. They had always wanted Serena to marry their dream son-in-law. But it was fine. I had made peace with myself a long time ago. I was back for business, not for love. I let out a soft laugh and reassured them. “Mom, Dad, you really don’t have to explain. I mean it when I say congratulations.” “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? Your dream is coming true, and I’m happy for Serena too.” I turned to Ethan. “And congratulations to you too, Ethan. The past is in the past. I genuinely wish you both the best.” “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you guys get back to planning.” I knew my boundaries. As Ethan’s ex, my presence was awkward enough. Why should I interfere in their family’s wedding planning? Besides, the heir of Vance Capital, Liam Vance, was hosting a charity gala tomorrow night, and he would be there. I needed to finish polishing the pitch deck. Getting his investment was my top priority. The gala hall was spectacular, filled with high society elites in designer gowns and tuxedos. I looked down at my phone at the text from Liam Vance: [The deck is brilliant. I’m highly impressed.] It made me want to scream. Every single time, he was “impressed,” yet he never actually wired the money. What exactly was he waiting for? I spotted Liam standing across the room, surrounded by a crowd of wealthy sycophants. I decided to walk over and get a straight answer. If he was out, I’d just pitch to other VCs. “Mr. Vance, long time no see,” I said, stepping up to him with a polite nod. Liam maintained his signature, smug smile. “Not that long. We had a meeting yesterday, Chloe.” “I know exactly why you’re here. But unlike those old traditionalists, I don’t care about your fancy ‘Bennett Heiress’ title, and I don’t buy into that family-backed startup narrative.” “I’m a straightforward guy. How about this—” Liam snapped his fingers. A waiter instantly appeared with a massive silver tray holding twelve shot glasses of dark, heavy liquor. “Drink all twenty of these.” “Do it, and I’ll double my investment. Twenty billion.” That much hard alcohol could easily land me in the ER. But without a second thought, I reached for the first glass. Before my fingers could touch it, someone grabbed my wrist. It was Ethan. My parents’ voices drifted from behind him, using that same condescending tone I knew all too well—the same tone they used when they first brought me back from that small town. “Chloe, you don’t need to degrade yourself like this.” “If you need money, just ask. Your father and I will help you.” Ethan looked down at me, nodding arrogantly. “Don’t worry, Chloe. I have connections in the VC world.” “One word from me, and your funding is secured.” Honestly, in all my backup plans, begging them for help had never even crossed my mind. When you’re disappointed enough times, you learn to rely only on yourself. I gave Ethan a polite, empty smile and handed his own words back to him. “No, thank you.” “Fix your own mess. I still remember your advice, Ethan.” I wrenched my wrist from his grip. I picked up the first glass and threw it back. The burn hit my throat, making me wince. I set it down and picked up the second. One after another, I drained all twenty of them. By the time I finished the last shot, my lips were pale. I looked up and saw Ethan standing next to me, his eyes bloodshot. Watching me drink like my life didn’t matter, it was as if he had finally realized something he was too blind to see before. His voice shook as he asked, “Chloe…” “You hate your parents, and you hate me, don’t you?”

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I had been working at the company for five years, and I was universally known as the ultimate office doormat. I never missed a department dinner, and I was always on call for overtime. Until today, when the guy sitting next to me went to the restroom, and his phone screen lit up. The latest message was from our department manager, Harrison: “We’re doing layoffs next week. Start with the doormat first.” The replies from my coworkers flooded in immediately. “Good call. Chloe does the most work for the least pay. She’s the easiest to push around.” “Yeah, she has no connections or family background anyway. She won’t make a scene when she’s let go.” My heart squeezed. I took another glance at the group. The group name was: *Office Survival Guide*. I counted the members. 12 people. The entire department was in it. Except for me, the “doormat.” After a long silence, I picked up my phone and sent a text to my dad: “Dad, cancel the partnership with Harrington Enterprises. I’m coming home to take over the family business.” ***

I didn’t lose my temper on the spot. My coworker, Leo, hadn’t locked his computer screen, and his Snapchat window was still open. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. My fingers flew across the keyboard. Using Leo’s account, I compiled the entire chat history and emailed it to my personal address. The whole thing took less than thirty seconds. Humming a tune, Leo walked back from the restroom and picked up his mug. “Hey, Chloe, need me to grab you a coffee from downstairs?” I forced a smile and shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m good.” Once he walked away, I opened the email. The group had been created three years ago. It was during my second year at the company. I scrolled through the messages, line by line. The earliest record was from our manager, Harrison Vance. “How’s the rookie working out?” Someone replied, “Chloe? She’s great. She practically begs to take over our workloads.” “She’s a pushover. Perfect for taking the fall if anything goes wrong.” Harrison replied with a satisfied emoji. As I kept scrolling, it was all work. Whenever someone messed up, they blamed me. Whenever they had tedious work, they dumped it on me. They stole my ideas. They took credit for my achievements. And I, like an absolute idiot, had been working myself to the bone in the web they spun. I had genuinely thought I just wasn’t trying hard enough, which was why I never got promoted. Turns out, I was just their convenient, unpaid slave. The chat logs felt like physical blows to my chest. Three years ago, during the company’s annual reviews. My KPIs were the highest in the entire department. But Harrison told me in the meeting, “Chloe, you’re still new. You need more grooming. Let’s give this opportunity to the seniors first.” I believed him. I even thought he was looking out for me, protecting me from getting arrogant. But in the Snapchat group: Harrison: “We can’t give the $15,000 annual bonus to Chloe.” A coworker asked: “Why? Her performance was the best.” Harrison: “She has no background. Even if we give it to her, she might leave. Let’s give it to Maya instead. Her uncle is an executive at one of our partner firms.” So, the outstanding employee of that year became Maya. With the $15,000 bonus, she treated the entire department to a dinner at a high-end steakhouse. Except me. She said, “Chloe doesn’t really like loud social events. Let’s not bother her.” That night, I was working overtime at the office, revising a proposal they had casually thrown at me. I ordered myself an $8 convenience store sandwich. Two years ago, there was an opening for a supervisor position. I spent three months preparing for it, revising my presentation over a dozen times. Everyone thought the position was mine. In the end, it went to Maya again. Harrison called me into his office. “Chloe, you have great technical skills, but you lack leadership experience.” “Just wait a bit. You’ll get the next one.” I believed him again. But in the chat logs: The night before the presentation, Maya wrote in the group, “Manager, I’m so nervous.” Harrison replied, “Don’t worry. I’ve already talked to the executives.” “Just read Chloe’s report tomorrow. I already told her to send you the final draft.” So that was it. I had hand-delivered my own promotion to someone else. And I had even thanked Harrison for “mentoring” me. My blood ran cold. I kept scrolling. Last Thanksgiving, my mom had to undergo major surgery. I asked for three days off. Harrison only approved one. He said, “The project is at a critical stage. You can leave after you finish this.” I had no choice but to book a red-eye flight, running back and forth between the hospital and the airport. I slept for less than five hours over three days. My mom held my hand from her hospital bed, tears in her eyes, aching for me. But in the Snapchat group: On the day I took leave, Harrison sent out a virtual cash gift. “Guys, holiday is here! Company’s paying, let’s go to the hot spring resort!” The group exploded with cheers. Maya asked, “Didn’t Chloe say her mom is sick?” Harrison replied, “It’s fine, just a minor surgery. Work comes first, she knows her priorities.” They traded my mother’s health for their luxury vacation. I closed the email. My vision went blurry. Five years. I had been nothing but a joke in this company. *** ### Chapter 2

For the next three days, I went to work as if nothing had happened. I made coffee, printed documents, and smiled as I responded to everyone’s requests. “Chloe, can you look over this contract for me?” “Chloe, there’s a bug in this data. Can you double-check it?” “Chloe, grab me an iced Americano from downstairs, will you?” I accepted all of it. “Sure.” “No problem.” “Just a second.” When they looked at me, there was a faint, barely noticeable pity in their eyes. Like they were looking at a lamb about to be slaughtered. Harrison called me into his office once. “Chloe, you’ve been working hard lately. The proposal for the ‘Starlight Project’ is absolutely perfect.” He patted my shoulder, looking extremely pleased. “Once the project launches, I will personally request a bonus for you from the board.” I lowered my head, acting incredibly grateful. “Thank you, Harrison. It’s just my job.” He walked away, satisfied. The moment he turned, I saw Brandon posting in the group chat. “The old fox is dangling carrots again.” “Poor Chloe, she actually bought it.” “She’s literally getting fired next week, and she’s still dreaming.” I expressionlessly closed the Snapchat monitoring tool. It was a plugin I had casually installed on the department’s public router last month when I was helping the IT department test some software. I started digging up the old files. I didn’t have many virtues, but I had an excellent memory. I remembered during my second year, there was a prestigious training program at our European headquarters. My sales performance was the highest in the department back then. Everyone assumed I would get the spot. But in the end, the person who went was Harrison’s cousin, Ethan. Harrison had told me, “Chloe, you’re still young. You have plenty of opportunities. Focus on the project at hand first.” And I believed him. I stayed up for three consecutive nights to clean up the disastrous mess Ethan had left behind. On the final project report, the only name signed was Harrison Vance. Because of that project, he won the Manager of the Year award. I logged into the company’s internal server. I found the project folder from three years ago. Deep inside the folder, there was an encrypted document. Inside were all the original raw data and my operation logs. As well as the email exchange showing how Harrison had ordered me, step by step, to alter the data to cover up his cousin’s massive errors. I zipped the files and sent them to my private email. Then, I remembered another thing. At last year’s annual gala, the company held a raffle. The grand prize was a brand-new Tesla. Before the raffle, a girl from HR secretly told me that my name had been entered five times into the drawing box. She said, “Chloe, you’re so nice. We all hope you win.” But the winner turned out to be Brandon. He was so excited he practically jumped onto the stage, claiming he was the luckiest guy alive. Everyone went to congratulate him. Only I noticed Harrison standing in the corner, giving Brandon a subtle “OK” hand gesture. After the gala, I was responsible for cleaning up the venue. In the hidden compartment of the raffle box, I found a pile of crumpled paper balls. I opened them. Every single one had my name on it. At the time, I thought it was just a mistake. Now, I realized it was all rigged. *** ### Chapter 3

I checked the company’s financial expense reports from last year. Among the gala expenses, there was a $5,000 receipt from a VIP lounge bar. The claimant: Brandon. Reason: Department team-building. But that night, I was alone in the office, working overtime. While they were at the VIP bar, celebrating Brandon’s “lucky win.” Using our department’s team-building budget. I saved the digital copy of that receipt as well. But what broke my heart the most was Lily. She was an intern I had personally trained. When she first arrived, she knew absolutely nothing. I had to teach her how to use even the scanner. I shared all of my experience with her without holding anything back. When she made mistakes, I took the blame. When others tried to bully her, I stood up for her. She always followed me around, calling me “Chloe, Chloe,” like a loyal little puppy. I really thought she was different from the rest of them. The day before yesterday, she came to me with teary eyes. “Chloe, I heard… the company is doing layoffs.” I comforted her, “Don’t worry, you’re doing so well. They wouldn’t lay you off.” She hugged me, almost crying. “Chloe, you’re so good to me. Don’t worry, even if I have to leave, I’ll never forget how much you helped me.” I was so moved at that moment. But just now, I saw her messages in the group. “Manager Vance, can I take over the follow-up for the ‘Starlight Project’? Should I start taking over the files from Chloe now?” Someone replied: “Lily is so proactive!” Harrison replied with a single word. “Approved.” In that exact moment, my heart went completely cold. It turned out her little performance the other day wasn’t because she was afraid of being laid off. She was just worried that I, the “office doormat,” wouldn’t be fired fast enough to clear her path to promotion. Friday afternoon, right before clock-out. Harrison called me into his office. The blinds were drawn, making the room quite dim. He sat in his leather executive chair, a look of rehearsed pity on his face. “Chloe.” He spoke, his voice heavy. “You know how the company’s financial situation has been lately. For our long-term survival, we have to make some difficult decisions.” I looked at him quietly, saying nothing. I just waited for him to finish his act. “You’ve always worked hard, and we appreciate it. But…” He paused, pretending to search for the right words. “We need to optimize our department’s structure. Some roles are being merged. So… look, here is your severance package.” He slid a document toward me. It was the bare minimum required by law. Not a single penny more. He had calculated it perfectly so I couldn’t sue them. “Sign it. You don’t have to come in on Monday.” He said it so casually. As if he were just letting me know the cafeteria menu had changed. Instead of the fact that he was destroying the career of an employee who had worked herself to the bone for him for five years. I picked up the agreement. The paper was thin, yet it felt incredibly heavy. I caught the faint, smug smirk on Harrison’s face. He thought I was still that obedient “doormat” who would take the hit, sign the papers, and leave in tears. I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. Word by word, I said clearly: “I’m not signing this.” *** ### Chapter 4

Harrison’s smirk froze on his face. “What did you say?” “I said, I’m not signing.” I repeated. “And the one who needs to leave isn’t me.” He looked at me as if I had just said the most hilarious joke in the world. “Chloe, have you gone crazy from working too much overtime? You have no connections, no money, no background. How do you think you can fight me?” “With this.” I placed my phone on his desk and played a video. In the video, which was recorded two afternoons ago, Harrison was meeting with the representative of the ‘Starlight Project’ client at a cafe. The representative said, “Manager Vance, we really appreciate the core creativity and data models of this proposal. But we would like to meet the original creator, Miss Chloe Sterling, to have a deeper discussion.” Harrison took a sip of his coffee and said slowly: “That won’t be necessary. Chloe is unwell and has taken an extended medical leave. I will be handling all follow-ups personally.” The representative frowned. Harrison continued, “To be honest, Chloe is already planning to resign. She’s… not very bright, and she isn’t suited for such an important project anyway.” The video ended there. Harrison’s face instantly turned from smug to pale. “You… you tracked me?” “I just happened to be passing by.” I retrieved my phone. “Manager Vance, maliciously defaming an employee and attempting to steal credit for a core company project… I believe this is more than enough to get you fired.” He slammed his hands on the desk and stood up, pointing at me. “How dare you!” *Knock, knock, knock.* The office door was knocked. Harrison barked impatiently, “Who is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?!” The door opened. A middle-aged man in a bespoke designer suit, radiating an incredibly powerful aura, walked in. Behind him were several executives from our parent company. Even the CEO of Harrington Enterprises, Victor Harrington, was trailing behind him, sweating profusely and looking terrified. Harrison froze. “Mr. Sterling! What brings you here?!” The man Harrison called “Mr. Sterling” didn’t even glance at him. He walked right through the crowd and stopped in front of me. Then, in a helpless yet incredibly fond tone, he spoke: “Done playing around?” The entire room fell into a dead silence. Everyone stared in absolute shock. I blinked and gave my dad a sweet, innocent smile.

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After my roommate secretly drank the protein powder I kept in our dorm, her weight shot up from 100 pounds to 135 pounds in just a single month. She literally cried and accused me of poisoning her. “What the hell did you put in here? Are you trying to kill me?!” I let out a cold laugh. “When you were busy stealing it, why didn’t you bother asking what it actually was?” What she didn’t know was that it wasn’t protein powder. It was a rapid fattening formula I had custom-mixed for my lab pigs. Harper Vance stood by my desk, clutching the empty plastic tub in her hands, tears streaming down her face. “Chloe Miller! Did you put something in this powder?!” She had visibly bloated. Her once-sharp jawline was now completely round, her collarbones had vanished under layers of puffiness, and the rolls around her waist practically spilled out of her pajamas like rising dough. I closed my lab notebook, slowly looking up at her. “Who told you to steal my powder? Did I force it down your throat?” “So you admit it! You did put something in there! You wanted to ruin me!” Her voice pitched into a shrill shriek. “You’re an Animal Science major—you spend all day with farm animals! What kind of sick chemical did you mix into this? I gained thirty-five pounds in a month! Thirty-five pounds!” She slammed the empty tub onto my desk. I didn’t even flinch. “I’ll ask you again. Who told you to touch my stuff?” Harper choked on her words, her face turning a furious, blotchy red. Our other roommate, Maya Brooks, poked her head out from her bed, took one look at the drama, and quickly pulled her curtains shut. Someone walked past our door in the hallway, their footsteps pausing briefly before hurrying away. Harper’s voice suddenly dropped, her eyes darting around nervously. “I—I just thought it was regular organic protein powder. You left it sitting there and weren’t using it, so what’s the big deal if I had some? Roommates are supposed to share. Why do you have to be so incredibly petty?” I stared at her. “Share.” She sure loved using that word. Last semester, she ate a whole pint of organic strawberries I left in the shared fridge, claiming she “didn’t want them to go to waste.” She took handfuls of my expensive imported vitamins every single day, claiming she just “needed some extra nutrients.” She even wore my limited-edition designer hoodie to a frat party and brought it back reeking of cheap beer and weed. When I asked why she didn’t ask for permission first, she scoffed and said, “It’s just a hoodie, Chloe. You’re not gonna die.” Every single time, she called it “sharing.” Every single time, she took it for granted. When we first moved in, I thought she just had a few boundary issues. Everyone has flaws, right? Back then, I was naive. I figured we had to live together in this suite for a couple of years, so there was no point in making things tense. So I let it go. Every single time, I let it go. But being passive never makes a bully back down. It only makes them take more. Midway through freshman year, my mom ordered a massive, five-pound box of premium Rainier cherries from Whole Foods and had it shipped to me. The box was huge. I kept it in the corner of our shared kitchen, planning to savor them. That afternoon, I went to my chemistry lecture. When I came back, the box was completely empty, with nothing left but a few crushed, rotten stems rolling around at the bottom. Harper was lounging on the couch, picking her teeth. Seeing me walk in, she smiled. “Oh, Chloe, those cherries were so sweet! I invited the girls from next door over, and we finished them.” A fifty-dollar box of imported cherries, and she just “invited the girls” to eat them. “Why didn’t you text me first?” I stood at the door, my keys still clenched in my hand. “Oh, come on, I assumed you bought them for the suite anyway,” she said, rolling over on the couch. “Don’t be so dramatic, Chloe. We’re practically sisters.” Sisters. Hearing that word roll off her tongue made me physically sick. I stared at her, wanting to scream, but in the end, I said nothing. It wasn’t because I was scared. It was because I felt it wasn’t worth the energy. Screaming over a box of cherries? What would that even solve? She still slept in the room next to mine. We still had to see each other every single day. I didn’t want to turn our dorm into a war zone. But now I realize that when you refuse to treat someone as an enemy, they just treat you as their prey. “That wasn’t protein powder,” I said flatly. ### Chapter

2 I tapped the empty plastic tub on my desk. “It’s a weight-gain supplement I formulated for my experimental pigs. The main ingredients are high-fructose corn syrup, soy lecithin powder, a concentrated Vitamin B complex, and yeast extract to stimulate their appetite. I mixed the recipe myself specifically for my animal growth performance study.” Harper’s face drained of color, going from flushed red to ghostly white. “You… what did you say?” “I said,” I emphasized every single syllable, “you’ve been eating pig feed for a month.” She froze, her mouth hanging open like a gasping fish. From behind her curtain, Maya let out a loud snort of laughter before quickly covering her mouth. Harper suddenly spun around and bolted into the bathroom. I heard the toilet seat slam open, followed immediately by the sound of violent, soul-crushing gagging. I didn’t bother to go check on her. I sat back down and opened my lab notebook. I had spent two entire months perfecting that weight-gain formula. Every single batch had to be weighed down to the milligram, mixed to a 95% homogeneity, and scanned under near-infrared to ensure even nutrient distribution. I had mixed five tubs in total. Four were already in the university barns with my test subjects. I only brought the last tub back to my dorm because the lab lockers were full, and I needed a place to store it temporarily. I had put a label on the tub. A bright white label with bold, red letters. “FOR LABORATORY ANIMAL USE ONLY. DO NOT CONSUME.” Harper wasn’t blind. She saw it. She just didn’t care. The horrible sounds from the bathroom finally stopped. She dragged herself out, gripping the doorframe. Her lips were pale, and her eyes were watery and bloodshot. “Chloe, you did this on purpose! You left that thing there and didn’t warn me just so you could watch me make a fool of myself!” I looked up at her. “The warning label was huge. Are you illiterate?” “The font was tiny! No one reads that!” “It was in bold, red, half-inch letters. How is that tiny?” She stomped her foot, tears spilling over her flushed cheeks. “You tried to poison me! I’m going to the Resident Director! I’m reporting you for poisoning a student!” “Poisoning?” I snapped my notebook shut. “Do you even know what’s in that formula? Corn syrup, soy powder, yeast extract—it’s all food-grade ingredients. The worst it’ll do to a human is pack on the pounds. It’s not toxic. What are you going to report me for? Making you fat?” She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out. I stood up, grabbed the empty tub, and shoved it back into her hands. “If you feel so wronged, go ahead and report me. Let the whole campus know you’ve been stealing and eating pig feed for a month, and that’s why you gained thirty pounds.” She held the tub, her entire body shaking with rage. Maya finally climbed down from her bed, grabbed Harper by the arm, and started pulling her out of our room. “Okay, okay, let’s just go get some air. Stop fighting.” At the doorway, Harper suddenly whipped her head back, her eyes red and venomous. “You’re going to pay for this, Chloe.” The door slammed so hard the walls vibrated. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the closed door for a few seconds. Pay for it? Sure. Bring it on. The next morning, I went to the university barns to feed my pigs. My subjects were twelve Yorkshire-Landrace crossbreeds, divided into four groups. The control group got standard feed, while the experimental groups got varying percentages of my weight-gain formula. Every pig had an ear tag with a registered ID. I could recite them in my sleep. This trial had been running for nearly four months. I weighed them weekly, took blood samples, and logged their daily feed intake and fecal scores. My data book was almost full. I just needed the weight data from the final two weeks to complete my senior thesis. I had just poured the feed into the trough when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an alert on Snapchat from our Resident Director, Mrs. Harrison. “Chloe, Harper, Maya. My office. 3 PM today.” ### Chapter

3 I didn’t reply. I just kept feeding my pigs. Mrs. Harrison’s office was on the third floor of the student services building. The door was half-open. When I arrived, Harper was already sitting inside, her eyes swollen like bruised peaches, and her mother was sitting right next to her. I had never met her mother, but one look told me they were definitely cut from the same cloth. She had the same round face and petite frame, though her mother was significantly wider, sitting in the office chair like an immovable boulder. Mrs. Harrison gestured for me to sit and rubbed her hands together anxiously. “Chloe, thanks for coming. Harper’s mother reached out to me regarding a situation in your suite. She claims you kept hazardous substances in the dorm, which has caused Harper some health issues.” “It wasn’t a hazardous substance.” I placed my lab notebook on the desk. “It’s experimental animal feed for my research project. Every ingredient is food-grade, and the formula is fully cleared and registered with the University Animal Care and Use Committee.” I flipped the notebook to the approved biosafety registration page and slid it across the desk to Mrs. Harrison. Mrs. Harrison looked down, scanned it, and then looked up at Harper’s mom. Her mom snatched the notebook, aggressively flipped through a couple of pages, and slammed it back down on the desk. “I don’t care about your little science papers! I want to know one thing: my daughter drank your garbage and gained thirty pounds. How are you going to take responsibility for this?” “Why should I take responsibility?” I looked her dead in the eye. “She stole it. I put a warning label on the container, and she chose to ignore it. She stole and consumed something she shouldn’t have. Why is that on me?” Harper’s mom slammed her hand on the desk and stood up. “What is wrong with your attitude, young lady?! What did your little label even say? ‘Animal feed’! How is an ordinary college student supposed to know if that means it’s for pigs or humans? You’re an Animal Science major—bringing farm feed into a shared student dorm is a violation in the first place!” Mrs. Harrison quickly tried to de-escalate. “Mrs. Vance, please, let’s keep our voices down and discuss this calmly.” “Calmly? My daughter gained thirty pounds! Thirty! She was a gorgeous girl, and look at her now! How is she supposed to go out in public? How is she supposed to date?!” Harper sobbed loudly on cue, her shoulders shaking. I looked at her, suddenly wanting to laugh. She wasn’t crying because she felt bad about stealing. She was crying because she got caught. She wasn’t afraid of being unhealthy; she was embarrassed about gaining weight. And her mother wasn’t fighting for justice; she was fighting to save face. Mrs. Harrison sighed and turned to me. “Chloe, you do bear some responsibility here. School policy states that laboratory experimental materials should not be kept in residential halls. That was a lapse in judgment on your part.” “The storage lockers at the animal center were completely full. It was temporary. I sent an official request to our department group chat on WhatsApp, and Dr. Sterling approved it.” I pulled up WhatsApp on my phone and showed her the screen. The timestamp was crystal clear. I had sent the temporary storage request along with a photo of the labeled tub, and Dr. Sterling had replied with an “Approved.” After reading it, Mrs. Harrison’s face turned incredibly stiff. Harper’s mom didn’t care about the proof. She just waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t care about your little group chats! I want to know what you’re going to do about my daughter. Thirty pounds! How is she supposed to lose that? How is she supposed to fit into her clothes?!” I almost laughed out loud. Thirty pounds of fat, and she was acting like I owed it to her. She was the one who shoveled it into her own mouth, spoon by spoon. “Mrs. Vance,” I kept my voice as cold and steady as possible. “Your daughter stole a tub of my experimental research materials. Under university policy, at best, this is a roommate theft dispute. At worst, it’s unauthorized tampering with active research materials, which violates the university’s academic integrity and biosafety codes.

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In front of his precious first love, Melanie, my husband laughed and said my stomach looked like I was five months pregnant. Melanie giggled, leaning softly into his chest. She glanced at me with a smirk, though her voice remained sweet and gentle. “Oh, Chloe, sweetie. Women really need to take care of their bodies. Otherwise, how do you expect to keep your man’s heart?” She offered a card. “How about I recommend my personal trainer to you?” I smiled and took the card. “Sure, why not?” The very next day, I maxed out my husband’s black card. I booked the most expensive personal trainer in the city, the highest-end skincare package, and bought the luxury watch he’d been eyeing for three years but was too stingy to buy. He was furious. “Are you out of your absolute mind?” I admired my freshly done manicure and replied slowly, “Didn’t you say I was fat and old, Ethan? I’m doing all of this for you.” *** Ethan Thorne’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. He stared at the watch box on the table for ten solid seconds, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull. “Chloe Sinclair, do you have any idea how much this watch costs?” I looked up and gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “Of course. Three hundred and eighty thousand dollars. It’s been sitting in your shopping cart for three years. Every time we passed the boutique, you couldn’t take your eyes off it.” “Then why the hell did you buy it?” He slammed his hand on the table. His coffee cup jumped, spilling dark liquid across the marble surface. “You spent my money to buy a gift for me? Chloe, did you get dropped on your head, or are you just stupid?” I calmly grabbed a tissue and wiped up the spilled coffee. “Didn’t you say I was fat, old, and had terrible taste?” I balled up the tissue and tossed it perfectly into the trash can. “I’m just trying to fix that. A personal trainer costs money, right? Skincare treatments cost money, right? If I’m going to present myself well, I need the right wardrobe, don’t I?” Ethan’s face turned from red to a sickly pale green. “A three-hundred-and-eighty-thousand-dollar watch is part of your wardrobe? Who do you think you are? A Kardashian?” I tilted my head, blinking at him. “I’m Mrs. Thorne. Surely the wife of Ethan Thorne is worth that much?” He froze, completely speechless. Taking advantage of his silence, I pulled up the receipt for the trainer on my phone and held it in front of his face. “Oh, by the way, I booked three hundred sessions with the trainer. He’s the top celebrity coach in the city, eighty dollars an hour. I also got the diamond-tier annual skincare package for ninety-eight thousand dollars. And I signed up for a style-consulting course to learn how to dress and do makeup. That was sixty thousand.” “You—” “Melanie Crawford recommended all of it to me, actually.” I smiled sweetly. “She was right. I really need to manage my image. You always say I’m not as elegant as her, so I’m just trying to learn from her.” Ethan was literally shaking with rage. He snatched my phone, scrolling through the bank alerts. His expression grew worse by the second. “Chloe, you spent over six hundred thousand dollars in a single day?” I rested my chin on my hand, looking at him innocently. “You always complained that I didn’t know how to spend money. Now I do.” “You don’t know shit!” He slammed the phone onto the couch and pointed a finger at my face. “This isn’t spending money! This is burning it! Do you think my money just grows on trees?” I stopped smiling and stood up slowly. “Ethan, when you took Melanie to Paris to buy those designer bags, one of them cost thirty thousand dollars. The luxury apartment you rent for her is eight thousand a month. And that sports car you bought her? Two hundred thousand. Tell me, did that money grow on trees?” His mouth opened, but no words came out. “What? It’s totally fine to throw millions at another woman, but it hurts when your own wife spends a dime?” I picked up the watch box and shoved it into his hands. “Take it. You love it, don’t you? Consider your three-year dream fulfilled.” ### Chapter 2 Ethan held the watch box, his face turning various shades of red and white. I grabbed my designer purse and headed for the door, my brand-new heels clicking loudly against the floor. “Where do you think you’re going?” he shouted after me. “To my first training session,” I replied without looking back. “You hate my stomach, right? I’m going to go work it off.” The moment the door slammed shut, I heard something shatter inside. Probably his coffee cup. I didn’t care. I pressed the elevator button. Downstairs, a private chauffeur was already waiting in a sleek town car—also hired using Ethan’s black card. I used to drive myself everywhere. But Melanie had mentioned that real high-society ladies always sit in the back. They never grip the steering wheel themselves. I thought she was absolutely right. After all, it wasn’t my money. The gym was located in the most exclusive part of the city. The annual membership alone was eighteen thousand dollars. I had mentioned wanting to join this gym before, but Ethan had dismissed it as a waste of money, telling me to just jog around the neighborhood. Well, look at me now. Not only was I here, but I had also bought the most expensive package they offered. My trainer was a gorgeous man in his early thirties named Ryan Brooks. He looked like he had just walked off the cover of a fitness magazine. He wore a tight black athletic shirt that showed off his perfectly sculpted muscles. “Mrs. Thorne, let’s start with a fitness assessment,” Ryan said, his voice warm and polite as he handed me a clipboard. As I was filling out the form, my phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Melanie. *Chloe, sweetie! I heard you signed up for personal training? That’s amazing! A woman should always invest in herself. By the way, is Ethan mad? He called me earlier and sounded really upset.* I stared at the message for two seconds and smiled. She was trying to gloat. I typed back: *Mad? Not at all. He actually praised me for finally being sensible. He even said he’s giving me an unlimited black card so I can spend whatever I want.* The other side was silent for a long time. I added another message: *By the way, Melanie, what was the name of that skin-tightening treatment you mentioned? Thermage? I want to get it done. After all, a woman has to invest in herself, right?* This time, she replied quickly: *Oh yes! Thermage is amazing. I’ve done it three times. If you go, I can introduce you to my doctor. He can give you a twenty percent discount!* *No need for a discount,* I replied, leaning back in my chair with a grin. *Ethan told me not to worry about saving money. He wants me to spend as much as I want.* The typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times. Finally, she sent back a single smiling emoji. I put my phone face down on the table and began my fitness assessment. Ryan measured my waist and said, “Mrs. Thorne, your foundation is actually great. Your body fat is just slightly high. With the right diet and training, you’ll see incredible results in three months.” “No rush,” I said, looking at my soft belly in the mirror. “We can take our time. I have all the time in the world.” And more importantly, I had the money. ### Chapter 3 After leaving the gym, I went straight to the luxury mall. I remembered Melanie showing off a Bvlgari necklace on her Instagram story a few weeks ago. It was worth about twenty thousand dollars. I walked into the boutique, picked out a limited-edition piece worth thirty-two thousand dollars, and told the sales assistant to wrap it up. The assistant beamed. “Mrs. Thorne, you have exquisite taste. This is our limited-edition piece for the season.” I swiped the card and glanced at a diamond bracelet in the display case. “Pack that one too.” “Of course, Mrs. Thorne! This bracelet is eighteen thousand—” “You don’t need to tell me the price,” I interrupted with a smile. “I’m not the one paying anyway.” The assistant blinked, and then her smile grew even wider. She probably thought I was some rich man’s spoiled mistress. I didn’t care. I walked out of the mall carrying the luxury bags, the warm evening sun hitting my face. Squinting against the light, I remembered the day I married Ethan three years ago. He had stood at the altar, looking golden and perfect in the sunlight. He had held my hand and promised in front of everyone that he would love me forever. It had only been three years, and now he was praising another woman’s body while telling me my stomach looked like I was five months pregnant. A man’s promises really are worthless. When I got home, Ethan was sitting in the living room, smoking. The room was filled with haze, and the ashtray on the coffee table was overflowing with cigarette butts. He saw me walk in, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up instantly. “Chloe, stop right there!” I took off my shoes, set the shopping bags down, and walked over unhurriedly. “What’s wrong?” “What’s wrong?” He let out a harsh laugh and shoved his phone in front of my face. “Look at how much you spent today! Six hundred thousand wasn’t enough, so you went and spent another fifty thousand? Are you trying to drive me into bankruptcy?” I glanced at the screen. Oh, it was a bank alert. “The necklace and the bracelet,” I said casually. “I saw Melanie wearing something similar and thought it looked nice. So I got myself some.” I paused, then added, “But mine is limited edition. It costs ten thousand more than hers.” Ethan’s face contorted with anger. “Why are you comparing yourself to her? Do you have any idea that what you spent today is equivalent to three months of my company’s net profit?” “Then stop spending money on Melanie,” I said, sitting on the couch and crossing my legs. “If you stop giving her money, there will be plenty for me to spend.” “You!” He was speechless with rage. He paced around the living room twice before pointing at me again. “Chloe, I’m warning you. If you spend another dime without my permission, I will freeze your cards!” I looked up and smiled at him. “Go ahead. Freeze them.” He froze. “If you do, I’ll just go to the media. ‘The CEO of Thorne Enterprises is so broke he can’t even afford his wife’s lifestyle.’ How does that sound?”

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It was my daughter’s seventh birthday party. She was just about to ask her dad to cut the cake. But my husband shoved her away, hard, right in front of everyone. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your father.” He slammed a DNA test report onto the table. I stood there, frozen in shock, only to be slapped across the face by my own adoptive parents. Audrey, the biological daughter who had just returned to the Harlow family, shrunk into my husband’s arms, her eyes red with innocent tears. “I’m so sorry, Gemma. I just casually mentioned that Chloe didn’t look like Julian. I had no idea Julian would actually go and run a test.” From that night on, I was branded a cheating whore, and my daughter became a bastard child everyone looked down on. Later, Julian demanded a divorce. For Chloe’s sake, I wanted to beg him to run another DNA test. But instead, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his friend. “You ruined Gemma’s reputation and called Chloe a bastard just to make Audrey feel better. Aren’t you afraid your wife and kid will actually leave you for good?” Julian’s voice was completely nonchalant. “Afraid of what? Her parents knew about the fake DNA test anyway.” “She’s just an adopted daughter who stole Audrey’s life for over twenty years. Once Audrey feels compensated and her mental health stabilizes, I’ll just remarry Gemma.” “Gemma can’t live without me. Even after the divorce, she’ll keep waiting for me.” I recalled Chloe crying, asking me if her daddy really didn’t want her anymore. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my palms. The next day, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I calmly finished the divorce paperwork with him at the courthouse. But what he didn’t know was that the moment I walked out, I turned around and married another man.

Standing outside the door, hearing Julian’s careless words, I could barely stand. His friend wanted to say something else, but Julian cut him off with a soft chuckle. “Alright, when the time comes, I’ll just pretend I didn’t know.” “I’ll tell her the hospital made a mistake. She’ll come crawling back on her own anyway.” I leaned against the wall, my chest aching with a sharp, stabbing pain. Just a few hours ago, Chloe had come home from school crying. Her favorite uniform was covered in mud, and her knees were scraped and bloody. I had called her teacher, only to be met with a cold, demanding voice telling us to transfer schools. “Mrs. Vance, do you really want me to spell it out for you?” “Your scandalous private life is all over the internet. Every kid in school knows Chloe is a bastard of unknown origin.” “The other parents are furious. The school is under a lot of pressure here.” Hanging up the phone, I had held my shivering daughter, my heart breaking into pieces. Yet, she had looked up at me with her tear-stained face and asked, “Mommy, if I’m really Daddy’s baby, will he… will he love me again?” For the sake of that question, I had thrown away all my pride to find Julian today. I wanted to beg him for another DNA test. But I never expected to hear such venomous words. In his eyes, faking a DNA test to publicly humiliate me was just a trivial game. The humiliation and abuse Chloe and I suffered were merely a script he wrote to please another woman. Even my adoptive parents, who had promised to love me forever, were accomplices in this cruel game. I closed my eyes in agony. Inside the room, their laughter continued. His friend seemed to feel a bit of pity. “But Chloe is just a kid. I saw her running out of school crying today because other kids were calling her a bastard. Can you really bear to let her suffer like that?” “If she finds out the truth, she might never accept you as her father again.” Julian’s tone was filled with the arrogance of a man who held all the cards. “Kids forget easily. What’s wrong with her suffering a little?” “Besides, she’s my biological daughter. She can’t actually reject me as her father.” I squeezed my hands into fists, my nails slicing into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the physical pain. If this were the old Gemma, I would have kicked the door open and screamed at him. But this time, I just turned around silently. I was done. This divorce was happening. I packed a few clothes and took Chloe back to the Harlow estate. In the past, whenever I came back, my parents would always greet me at the door with warm smiles. But this time, my adoptive mother didn’t even try to hide the disgust in her voice. “What are you doing here?” “Mom, I have nowhere else to go. I just want to stay here with Chloe for one night.” Helen Harlow sneered. “The Harlow estate is not a homeless shelter. Don’t bring your bad luck into our house.” A lump formed in my throat. Chloe peeked out from behind me, timid and small. “Grandpa, Grandma!” Her voice was soft and sweet, just like before, waiting for them to hug her. But their faces remained ice-cold. “Don’t call us that. We don’t have relatives with such loose morals.” I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I stood there, paralyzed. In just a few days, we had gone from being a beloved daughter and granddaughter to disgrace. I remembered how my dad used to lift me onto his shoulders, calling me his little princess. I remembered how my mom used to brag about how proud she was of her brilliant daughter. But ever since Audrey returned, their love had vanished overnight. The business projects I had worked so hard on were stripped from me one by one. The connections and resources I had built were handed over to Audrey. At the time, I had comforted myself, thinking Audrey was the biological daughter and it was only natural for them to compensate her. But now, I finally realized the truth. They hated me. They hated me for taking Audrey’s place and living her luxurious life for over twenty years. Julian’s cruel words echoed in my ears.

To make Audrey feel better, they had willingly allowed that fake DNA test to destroy me, stepping on Chloe and me without a shred of mercy. Thinking of this, I swallowed my rising emotions and tested the waters. “What if… there was a problem with that DNA test? What if the report is fake?” My mother paused for a second. “The evidence is clear. Are you still trying to lie your way out of this?” My father looked at me with cold, dead eyes. “So many people saw it. You have completely disgraced the Harlow family name.” “A DNA test isn’t enough proof for you? What do you want? Do we need to catch you in bed with another man for you to admit it?” A bone-chilling cold swept through me. They knew. They knew everything was a lie. Yet, they still cursed me with such venomous words, throwing the label of an unfaithful woman onto my head. My father frowned, his tone dripping with fake charity. “Fine. If you really want to stay here, you will release a statement tomorrow.” “Publicly admit that you cheated during your marriage, and admit that Chloe is not Julian’s child.” “Then, resign from your position at Harlow Group and transfer all your remaining shares to Audrey unconditionally.” I could hardly believe my ears. My voice shook violently. “You want me to admit to what?” “Chloe is not a bastard!” My mother didn’t even look up. “An imposter’s child is just another cheap fake. What else could she be?” A loud buzz filled my brain. Something inside me shattered completely. Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Audrey walked down, her eyes red, looking like a frightened little lamb. “Dad, Mom, please don’t be like this…” She looked at me, her voice incredibly gentle. “Gemma, I know you’re hurting, but our parents are getting old, and the Harlow family has a reputation to protect.” “You can’t drag everyone down just because of your messed-up private life.” “Just apologize first. Once the drama dies down, we’ll still be a family.” She then looked down at Chloe, her eyes filled with fake sympathy. “As for whether the child is Julian’s biological daughter…” “Julian is such a good man. He won’t hold a grudge against you forever.” Before I could speak, my parents lost their patience. They ordered the maid to throw my bags out. “We raised you for twenty years. We wanted to leave you with some dignity.” “Since you refuse to admit your mistakes, don’t ever come back to the Harlow house.” By the time we left the estate, the night was pitch-black and freezing. Chloe curled up in my arms, her eyes swollen and red, not saying a single word. I stroked her hair, thinking she was just exhausted, and quickly looked for a place to stay. When I walked into the hotel lobby, I looked like an absolute mess. “Hi, I’d like to book a suite, please.” I handed over my credit card. The receptionist swiped it and looked up at me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. This card has been frozen.” My heart dropped. I quickly pulled out my personal debit card. But to my horror, even my own savings had been cleared out. My fingers turned cold. I felt a wave of intense nausea. Julian had really gone this far. He didn’t just want me to bow down; he wanted to cut off my every means of survival. The receptionist’s voice was flat. “Ma’am, do you still want to book?” My throat tightened. I quickly called my best friend, Serena. “Serena, can you lend me some money? Or just book a room for us? I need to get Chloe into a room for the night.” There was a long silence on the other end before she whispered, “Gemma, it’s not that I don’t want to help you.” “But my family’s company is trying to close a major deal with Vance Enterprises right now. Your scandal is too huge. If I get involved, our company might suffer.” Before she could finish, I already understood. I hung up. Looking at my reflection in the polished marble floor, I found it hilarious. I had lived for twenty-six years, and yet, I had absolutely nothing. The only person left by my side was my daughter. But in the next second, Chloe’s body swayed, and she collapsed into my arms.

I reached out to touch her forehead. My heart went completely numb. She was burning up. I frantically scrolled through my phone contacts, my thumb stopping on a name I least wanted to bother. But right now, I had no choice. I called, borrowed some money, picked up Chloe, and walked back to the front desk. “Please, give me a room first. My daughter has a high fever.” The receptionist suddenly rolled her eyes. “No wonder your cards were frozen. You’re that adoptive daughter from the Harlow family who cheated on her husband.” I froze. She looked me up and down, her words becoming more hostile. “You’re trash yourself, and you brought a bastard child here to embarrass us.” “Our hotel is a respectable establishment. Please leave. Don’t dirty our lobby.” The other guests in the lobby turned to stare at me. I wanted to explain, but I had no voice. I could only hold Chloe close and run out of the hotel like a criminal. On the cold, midnight street, the wind felt like knives cutting through my skin. Delirious with fever, Chloe buried her face in my shoulder and murmured softly, “Daddy… please don’t leave me…” That one sentence tore my heart to shreds. Gritting my teeth, I pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. I called ten times. No one answered. With trembling fingers, I sent him a Snapchat message. “Chloe has a high fever. Can you please come?” After what felt like an eternity, he replied. “The kid isn’t even mine. I don’t have time to play happy family with you.” I stared at the cold text on the screen. The city was loud and alive, but I couldn’t even make a sound as tears flooded my face. In the end, I took Chloe to the hospital alone. The emergency room hallway was packed. Right after I got our ticket, I heard a familiar voice. Julian was holding Audrey, guiding her into the examination room. The nurse handed Julian an ultrasound sheet with a stern look on her face. “Early pregnancy bleeding. There are signs of a threatened miscarriage.” “The first trimester is critical. As her husband, you need to be more careful. Don’t stress the pregnant mother!” Julian took the sheet, immediately pulling Audrey closer to his chest. “Does it still hurt?” Audrey shook her head, her eyes rimmed with red. Julian frowned. “Don’t go back to the Harlow house tonight. Stay at my place.” “I’ll take care of you.” Audrey bit her lip and nodded, leaning entirely into his embrace. I stood frozen in the hallway, feeling the blood drain from my face. Years ago, when I was pregnant with Chloe, he had held me the exact same way. Back then, my morning sickness was so bad I couldn’t even keep water down. He had canceled all his business trips to stay by my side for ten whole months. He had said, “Gemma, you and our baby girl are my entire life!” And now, he was the one who had labeled his “entire life” a bastard. He was the one who had pushed Chloe and me into this living hell. I wanted to laugh. How could a man who loved you so deeply become so monstrously cruel when he stopped loving you? Chloe was still burning up in my arms. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. I looked down. It was a message from Julian. “Gemma, I’m done waiting. I’ll see you in court in three days.” “Fine,” I replied, my hands shaking as I forced down the overwhelming pain. Once Chloe’s fever subsided, I immediately took her back to the Vance mansion to retrieve our legal documents. Before entering, I turned on the audio recorder on my phone and slipped it into my pocket. I thought I was mentally prepared. But when I opened the door and saw Audrey sitting on the sofa wearing my silk pajamas, a wave of bitterness washed over me. She didn’t bother pretending anymore. She tilted her head and smiled at me like an innocent child. “Gemma, you guys are getting divorced anyway, and you’re no longer the lady of this house. You don’t mind if I wear your clothes, right?” I didn’t answer. I just looked around. In just two days, the home I had lived in for eight years was completely covered in Audrey’s shadow.

I ignored her, holding Chloe’s hand as I walked toward the bedroom. But Audrey stood up and pulled a cake out of the fridge. “Chloe, you didn’t get to eat any cake on your birthday. I bought this specially to make it up to you. I was waiting for you to come home.” She smiled like a saint, but her words were laced with poison. Her birthday party was a traumatic nightmare for Chloe, yet Audrey kept ripping the wound open. “Even though you’re not Julian’s kid, children are always innocent.” “Come, have a bite.” Chloe’s face went pale. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, looking as if she had done something terribly wrong. I forced down my rage. “We don’t want it.” Audrey paused. “Are you waiting for Julian to cut it for you?” “Should I call him out here?” “Don’t worry, Chloe. I already talked to him. Even if your parents divorce, he’ll keep supporting you for my sake.” Chloe’s face turned even whiter, her tiny fingers clutching my coat. I stared at that disgusting cake, a wave of nausea hitting my stomach. In the next second, I swept my hand across the counter, slamming the cake onto the floor. The frosting splattered all over the expensive carpet. Audrey let out a dramatic shriek, tears instantly streaming down her face. “Gemma! I just wanted to be nice to you! How could you do this?” Just then, Julian walked out of the study. Seeing the mess, fury flared in his eyes. He stepped forward and slapped me across the face. “Gemma! Have you lost your mind? Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?!” I burst into laughter, looking at him. “You faked a DNA test at Chloe’s birthday party. Didn’t you think that was embarrassing?” “You took Audrey to the OB-GYN clinic in the middle of the night. Didn’t you think that was embarrassing?” Julian’s eyes widened slightly. “What nonsense are you talking about! If you keep throwing dirt at us, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He shoved Chloe and me into the bedroom. “Go inside and think about what you’ve done! Tomorrow morning, we are going to sign the divorce papers. Since you’re the one at fault, you won’t get a single penny from the Vance estate. You’re leaving with absolutely nothing!” The door was locked from the outside. The strength I had been faking crumbled instantly. Tears poured down my face. I could only hold my daughter tightly, whispering apologies over and over again. “Chloe, I’m sorry… Mommy is so useless. I couldn’t protect you. I let them ruin your name and make you suffer like this.” But Chloe raised her tiny hand, gently wiping the tears from my eyes. “Don’t cry, Mommy.” “Mommy, if Daddy doesn’t want us, we don’t want him either.” That night, looking into my daughter’s resilient eyes, I finally made a decision. The next day, the moment we walked out of the courthouse with the divorce decree in hand, Julian still looked at me with his usual arrogant confidence. “Gemma, if you apologize to me right now, it’s not too late to fix this.” “No need. I’m getting married.” Hearing this, he scoffed, amused. “Married? To whom?” Right at that moment, a sleek black Maybach pulled up smoothly at the bottom of the steps. In front of Julian’s eyes, I grabbed the hand of the man who stepped out of the car, and we walked straight into City Hall. As Julian rushed after us with a look of sheer disbelief, we handed our documents to the clerk. “Hi, we’re here to register our marriage.” The clerk took our IDs and began verifying the information. I didn’t look back, but I could feel Julian’s burning gaze piercing through my back. Julian stood frozen for a few seconds before laughing coldly. “Gemma, cut the crap.” “You really hired an actor just to make me jealous?” He took a few steps up the stairs, trying to get past, but the clerk stopped him with a frown. “Sir, please do not disrupt our clients.” Julian’s face darkened. He ignored the clerk, his eyes locking onto my hand, which was tightly held by Caleb Sterling. “Ma’am, please confirm the information on the screen.” I looked at the monitor and nodded. “Everything is correct.”

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On my fiancé’s birthday, he let his assistant make his wish for him. “She’s good luck,” he said. “I wanted to soak up some of her good luck.” He made her sit right next to him, showering her with undivided attention. “She’s never been to a high-end restaurant like this. Just let her have her way.” He even gave her the antique heirloom pen my mother had just gifted him. And the garlic butter shrimp, my absolute favorite dish, was replaced on his orders with mango pudding because she preferred it. He remembered she hated the smell of seafood, but completely forgot I was deathly allergic to mangoes. Later, he showed up outside my apartment with roses and an engagement ring, crying that he was wrong and could change. I just pulled up the new appointment at City Hall on my phone and showed it to him. The groom’s name on the marriage license was no longer his. It was Julian’s twenty-sixth birthday. We grew up together in the same elite neighborhood. The plan was to sign our marriage license at City Hall right after this family dinner. But he was forty minutes late. I felt a tight knot in my chest, but I kept my mouth shut. I had planned this dinner. Both of our parents were sitting at the table. I personally curated the menu, and I even begged my dad to open a bottle of the vintage wine he’d been aging for ten years. When Julian finally walked in, a girl in a simple white sundress was trailing behind him. She kept her head down, looking nervous and out of place, like she’d never stepped foot into a five-star venue before. It was Daisy Miller. She was the college student Julian had sponsored through his charity program. After graduating, she insisted on working for him and was now his personal assistant. Julian looked down at her, his eyes soft. “She’s good luck, so I brought her along to bring us some good vibes.” I froze in my seat. The polite smile on my mom’s face didn’t fade, but she shot me a sharp look. My dad remained expressionless, but he didn’t say a word. “Since it’s my birthday, I thought it’d be nice to have her join the celebration,” Julian continued. “She doesn’t really have any friends in the city.” Julian pulled out the chair right next to him and turned to the girl. “Daisy, sit here. Close to the birthday boy.” The seat closest to him, the seat that had always belonged to me, was now occupied. Daisy slid into the chair, giving me a timid, fleeting look before whispering, “Julian, I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to sit here.” “It’s fine.” Julian leaned over and poured her a glass of warm water. “We’re all going to be family anyway.” The table fell dead silent. Julian glanced at the dishes on the table and frowned. “Waitress, take this garlic butter shrimp away.” “Daisy can’t stand the smell of seafood.” “She grew up in a small mountain town. She’s not used to high-end seafood.” My dad’s brows furrowed, and his eyes drifted to me. That was my favorite dish. My dad had personally called the head chef to make sure they used the freshest catch for me. Daisy sat in my spot and whispered, “It’s really fine, Julian. Don’t worry about me. I just want everyone to have a good time.” But Julian was already looking at the dessert menu. “Replace it with mango pudding. Daisy loves that.” I almost wanted to laugh. I am deathly allergic to mangoes. When I was seven, I took one bite of a mango parfait and broke out in hives, burning with a hundred-and-two-degree fever. Julian had rushed into my hospital room, crying by my bedside. “Don’t cry, Audrey. I’m going to ban mangoes from the entire world for you.” He kept that promise for sixteen years. I hadn’t seen a single mango around him since. Until today. I watched the waitress carry away the shrimp and return with a gold-rimmed bowl of mango pudding, placing it right in front of Daisy. Julian even reached over and plucked the mint leaf off the top. “Daisy hates mint. She says the taste is too sharp.” My dad’s hand rested on his wine glass, but he didn’t raise it. Daisy seemed to finally sense the suffocating tension in the room. She stood up in a panic. “Julian, maybe I should sit at the bar. Everyone here is family, and I’m just…”

“Sit down.” Julian gently pressed her back into the chair, his voice incredibly soft. “It’s just a family dinner. Don’t be nervous.” “Our latest venture succeeded all thanks to the good luck you brought us. Don’t you think you deserve this?” He was looking at Daisy when he said this, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I had seen that smile a thousand times. He smiled like that when he promised to ban mangoes for me at age seven. He smiled like that at fifteen, riding me on the back of his bicycle through the autumn leaves. He smiled like that at twenty-two, kneeling by the riverbank to slip a promise ring onto my finger. But right now, he was giving that smile to someone else. Julian’s mother, Rachel, tried to smooth things over. “Oh, young people and their superstitions! It’s just for good luck, totally normal.” She shot a quick, guilty glance at me, trying to gauge my reaction. Under the tablecloth, my mom took my hand and squeezed it tight. I knew what my mom meant. If I was uncomfortable, I needed to decide right now how I wanted to handle this. I lowered my head and took a sip of water. The waitress brought out the cake. It was a beautiful six-tier cake, frosted in elegant pastel pink and white, topped with candles shaped like the number “26”. I had pre-ordered it a week ago. He loved this specific bakery, and I’d ordered from them every single year. Since we were seven, the honor of making the wish on Julian’s birthday had always belonged to me. He would always push the cake in front of me and say, “Audrey, you make the wish. My only wish is for you to be happy.” But today, Daisy sat beside him, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the dancing flames. “Daisy, go ahead and make a wish.” For the first time in his life, Julian didn’t look at me. He gently pushed the cake toward her. “You’re young. There must be so many things you want to achieve, right?” I froze. This was the very first time he had given this privilege to someone else. Daisy’s face lit up with shy excitement. “But… it’s your birthday, Julian.” “It’s my birthday, but if you make the wish, it’ll still come true.” He chuckled. “You’re my lucky charm, remember? I’m just basking in your good fortune.” Julian’s parents laughed along, trying to keep the mood light. No one noticed me, except for my parents, whose expressions were growing darker by the second. I sat stiffly in my chair, watching the candlelight cast flickering shadows over Daisy’s face. She closed her eyes, looking as if she were genuinely praying to the heavens. My dad set his wine glass down with a heavy clink. He looked at me, and then at Julian. I looked at Julian, too. I guess the promises made in childhood really didn’t mean anything. The boy who swore to protect me would have never guessed that, years later, he would personally hand a mango dessert to another girl while I sat right beside them, watching the entire show. The cake was sliced. The waitress served the plates, and Julian naturally handed the very first slice to Daisy. It was so instinctive, as if he’d done it a hundred times. In the past, Julian would hand it to me and whisper, “The first bite always goes to the most important person in my life.” I guess the most important person had changed. My mom didn’t say a word, but she patted the back of my hand under the table. She was telling me: Mom is here. You don’t have to worry about anything. Next was the gift exchange. Rachel handed him a velvet box first, claiming it was a late graduation gift. Julian opened it. It was a limited-edition luxury watch. Then, my mom stood up. She pulled a beautifully crafted case from her designer handbag. “This is the pen I used when I signed my very first multi-million dollar corporate contract.” Inside lay a stunning, emerald-green enamel fountain pen encrusted with subtle gems. She looked at Julian. “I hope this pen brings you boundless success in your future endeavors, Julian.” Julian recognized the pen instantly. He had practically grown up in our house. He had heard my mother tell the story of this pen countless times.

It was a family heirloom, passed down through generations of the Summer family. Giving it to him was my mother’s official stamp of approval, welcoming him as a future member of our family and our business empire. Julian’s parents’ eyes lit up. They knew exactly what this pen represented. “Thank you, Helen.” Julian’s voice carried genuine respect. He accepted it like a sacred vow. Suddenly, Daisy leaned closer, her eyes wide with admiration. “Wow, this pen is so beautiful.” She stared at the sapphire embedded in the cap. “I didn’t even know pens like this existed.” “I’ve only ever used cheap dollar-store ballpoints my entire life. My fingers used to get calluses from writing so much.” She held out her right hand, showing us the slight callus on her middle finger. It was indeed a small, faint mark. Just like her, it looked fragile, begging for pity. Julian stared at her hand. Then, without a second thought, he snapped the box shut and pressed it into Daisy’s palm. “It’s yours.” The entire table went dead silent. He gave it away as casually as he had given away his birthday wish. “You always say you feel insecure when signing major proposals,” Julian said softly. “Use this pen. Let it be the confidence I give you.” Daisy gasped. She looked at the pen, then at Julian, and then at my mother. Her face flushed bright red. “No, no, I can’t accept this!” “Keep it.” Julian placed his hand over hers. “Mrs. Summer won’t mind.” He looked up at my mom, offering a polite, easy smile. “Right, Helen? Daisy works incredibly hard. The pen will be put to much better use in her hands.” My mom’s smile remained perfectly intact, but she looked at me with eyes that said everything. “Of course. It doesn’t matter who uses it.” Only I could hear the underlying meaning in her voice. She had completely given up on Julian. Rachel quickly chimed in to break the tension. “Oh, Julian has always been like this! He’s so generous to his employees.” “Daisy runs around doing so much for him. She deserves a little reward.” She patted Daisy’s shoulder warmly, like she was her own daughter. “And this girl is so talented. Ever since she joined, Julian’s projects have been running so smoothly. She’s like a little angel.” The word “angel” seemed to wipe away all the awkwardness in the air. Rachel smiled warmly at me. “Audrey, darling, don’t think too much of it. Helen and Daisy just get along so well. It’s like having another daughter around.” I shook my head slightly. “Of course not.” Then, I turned my gaze to Julian. “Today she makes your wishes. Tomorrow she signs your contracts.” “She really is a great help to you.” Julian’s smile froze. He stared at me, his brows pulling together. He knew I was angry. But Daisy’s eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes welled with tears. “Julian… is Audrey mad at me?” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” “I’ll give the pen back. I don’t want it anymore.” She tried to push the box back into Julian’s hands, her fingers shaking. The slight hesitation in Julian’s eyes vanished instantly. “No one is blaming you,” he comforted her softly. “Just sit down and eat. Don’t overthink.” Only after he finished soothing her did he look up at me. His eyes held a flash of annoyance, harboring a silent accusation: Why are you making a scene again? I looked down and let out a soft laugh. At that moment, my dad quietly withdrew the gift he had prepared to present after my mom’s pen. It was a sleek leather folder, bearing the embossed seal of the Summer Group. Inside was a contract transferring thirty percent of our subsidiary’s shares to Julian. Julian saw it. His eyes locked onto the folder in shock.

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