I bought a used laptop online, expecting a beat-up machine to get me through the school year. What arrived was the latest, high-end model, brand new out of the box. I opened it up, and my jaw hit the floor. The wallpaper was a photo of me. The password was my birthday. Just as I was wondering if I had a secret admirer or a stalker, my phone blew up. The seller was spamming me with frantic texts: “Dude! I sent the wrong one! That’s my sister’s brand-new laptop!” “That wasn’t the one for sale! Oh my god, she’s going to kill me.” “Did you see the guy on the wallpaper? That’s her future husband. She’s obsessed with him.” “Please, for the sake of true love, can you send it back?” 1 My four-year-old laptop finally gave up the ghost right before payday. I was broke. I teach third grade; “broke” is my default setting. I scoured eBay for four days until I found a listing that fit my sad little budget. To save even more money, I decided to shoot my shot. I pulled out the metaphorical machete: “Would you take $200?” The listing was for $500. I expected to be blocked or cursed out. Instead, the seller replied instantly: “Sure. Free shipping, too.” I felt like I’d encountered a benevolent god. I sent a string of generic, over-the-top compliments to the default avatar profile: “You are an angel! May you win the lottery! May you get a promotion! May your crush fall in love with you!” After a pause, she replied: “I hope so.” I paid immediately. The seller messaged: “We’re in the same city. Can you pick it up?” “Totally.” A few minutes later: “Actually, something came up. I have to go out of town. I’ll have my family courier it to you tomorrow.” The next day, I came home from school to find a package. I opened it, and my smile froze. This wasn’t the gray brick I ordered. This was a Rose Gold, top-of-the-line beast. It cost ten times what I paid. Confused, I hit the power button. The screen lit up. And there I was. It was a photo of me from high school, standing under a cherry blossom tree, holding an ice cream cone, waving at the camera. I looked young, happy, and full of life. Unlike the current me, who looks like a walking corpse fueled by caffeine. Why did a stranger have my photo as their wallpaper? Was this a prank? A gift? I looked at the password field. on a hunch, I typed in my birthday. Click. Unlocked. I grabbed my phone to ask the seller what was going on. That’s when the barrage of texts came in. “I messed up! I grabbed the wrong box!” “That’s my sister’s laptop! She keeps a photo of her ‘dream husband’ on it because she’s crazy!” “Please, help a girl out!” 2 I stared at the screen. “Dream husband?” Me? I convinced myself it was a coincidence. Maybe my photo became a meme online or a stock image. As for the birthday… plenty of people are born on that day. The seller’s panic seemed genuine, and honestly, a little hilarious. I replied: “Okay, I’ll return it.” I’m a teacher. I can’t steal a laptop, and I certainly don’t want to mess with someone’s “dream husband” delusion. The seller sent a flood of crying emojis. “Thank you! You’re a saint! I’ll meet you at the mall near the elementary school. Call me when you get there.” I grabbed the laptop and headed to the mall. I scanned the entrance for anyone looking like they were waiting for a package. Instead, I saw one of my students. Zoe. Zoe was staring at her massive, pink smartwatch, stomping her foot nervously. Seeing her triggered a memory from that morning. During recess, Zoe had cornered me. “Mr. Miller, do you have a girlfriend?” “No,” I’d said. She slapped her hand on her desk and pulled over another kid, Lucas. “Okay, Mr. Miller. Two choices. One: You become my brother-in-law. Two: You become his uncle. Pick one.” I was confused. Then I remembered Zoe was Lucas’s aunt (don’t ask about the family tree). Lucas had chimed in, “Yeah! My Aunt Nora is super pretty! She’s a police detective! She’s tall and kicks butt!” I had laughed it off. “I’ll give you two choices. Double homework, or triple homework?” They had scattered like roaches. Now, seeing Zoe at the mall, I tried to hide. I didn’t want to get roped into another “Choose Your Own Adventure” romance plot. I looked at the sky. I looked at my shoes. “Mr. Miller!” Too late. Zoe sprinted over. “What a coincidence! Are you waiting for a girlfriend?” I sighed. “No, Zoe.” It was 7:30 PM. “Where are your parents? It’s getting dark.” Zoe held up her watch. “I am on a mission. To protect my sister’s love life… and my own survival.” “Is your ride here?” She pointed to a sleek, expensive black car by the curb. “Driver’s right there.” I remembered I needed to call the seller. I dialed the number. Zoe’s giant pink watch started ringing. 3 The look on Zoe’s face was a masterpiece of pure terror. She stared at the laptop in my hands. Her brain rebooted. “M-Mr. Miller? You bought the laptop?” I handed it to her. “Here.” “Lying isn’t a good habit, Zoe. Also, tell your sister to refund my money.” Zoe looked like she was about to cry. “I can’t refund it! If she sees the transaction, she’ll know I sold the wrong one! She’s a cop! She knows how to hide a body!” “She beats me! You don’t want to see your favorite student with a black eye, do you?” “I thought you said she was nice?” I asked. “She is! I mean… no! She’s a tyrant! Please, Mr. Miller!” She was spiraling. “Okay, okay,” I said. “But I need the computer I actually bought. Or the money.” Zoe sniffled. “Can you… come to my house and get it?” 4 I followed Zoe into her house. The living room was full of people. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” Zoe announced. “Sister… you’re back?” On the couch sat a woman. She had her eyes closed. She was wearing a simple T-shirt and sweatpants, but you could see the muscle definition underneath. Tan skin. Sharp jawline. Even sleeping, she looked intimidatingly gorgeous. So this is the sister. My eyes lingered a little too long. Zoe tugged my sleeve. “Mr. Miller, you’re drooling.” “I am not.” Zoe ran over to the woman and shook her. “Nora! Wake up! Emergency!” Her parents walked over to me, looking confused. “Who is this?” They didn’t recognize me. Which was weird, because “Zoe’s Guardian” liked every single one of my Facebook posts. “Hi, I’m Liam Miller. Zoe’s teacher.” The woman on the couch snapped her eyes open. She looked at me. Her gaze was sharp, analytical. A predator assessing prey. I looked away, nervous. Zoe was whispering to her sister. “Buy me the Lego Death Star! Or else!” Nora grabbed Zoe by the collar and tossed her aside like a sack of potatoes. “You failed math. No Death Star. Be quiet.” Zoe’s mom ushered me in. “Is Zoe in trouble at school? She’s a handful.” “No, no,” I explained. “I actually bought a laptop from… Zoe’s sister. There was a mix-up.” “Nora?” Her dad called out. “Go get Mr. Miller his computer.” Nora stood up. She walked past me without a word, her face completely blank, and went into a bedroom. Zoe was punching the sofa cushions in rage. “She won’t buy it! Evil woman!” I sat awkwardly with the parents. I decided to make conversation. “Zoe is a great kid,” I lied. “Very spirited. She’s talked the ears off nine different desk-mates.” Before I could finish, a slice of orange was shoved into my mouth. “Eat, Mr. Miller,” Zoe hissed. “My sister peeled it.” Zoe hopped off the couch and grabbed the rose gold laptop I had placed on the table. She opened it. The screen lit up. My face, eating ice cream, beamed at the entire family. Just then, Nora walked out of her room. Zoe gasped theatrically. “Oh my god, Nora! Why is Mr. Miller on your wallpaper? That is so weird!”

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I was born broken. A bad seed. By the time I was six, I knew how to kill. My sister, Claire, was my opposite. She was the golden girl, the angel everyone adored. Including me. Mother locked me in a hidden room behind the wine cellar for ten years. Only Claire ever came to visit. But ten years later, Claire was carried back into the house, broken, bloody, and ruined beyond recognition. For the first time in a decade, Mother unlocked my chains. Her voice was trembling with a hatred that finally matched my own. “I want you to… kill everyone who did this to your sister.” 1 In the esteemed locking-away of the wealthy elite, twins were seen as a liability—a split inheritance, a redundancy. Mother built a hidden room the year we were born. She rotated us, letting Claire and me take turns being the “perfect daughter” in public. That arrangement shattered when I turned six. That year, I looked at the white rabbit we’d raised for two years and felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to explore. I used a pair of silver embroidery scissors to open it up. I walked into the drawing room, hands red, smiling, and offered the dissected creature to Mother. Mother fainted. When she woke up, she took a riding crop to me until I was covered in welts. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel pain. I just stared at her with dead eyes. “Monster,” she screamed. “You are a monster!” She threw me into the dark room to “reflect” for a month. I spent those days bored, toying with the blood-stained scissors. Only Claire came to see me. She brought pastries and toys. I ignored them. I grabbed her hand, my eyes wide and excited. “Claire, catch me another bunny?” Claire’s face went pale, but she swallowed her fear. “Blaire… why did you open the bunny’s tummy?” “Because I felt something thumping inside,” I said innocently. “I wanted to see what was making the noise.” “Oh…” Claire forced a smile, though it trembled. “Maybe you’re just a natural surgeon, Blaire. But next time, let’s look at books to learn about anatomy. I’ll bring you books.” I froze. I looked at my sister like she was a rare artifact. She was the first person who didn’t call me a monster. She tried to understand the why. I wanted to tell her I didn’t care about medicine, but her smile was so fragile I didn’t want to break it. Mother eventually let me out. The first thing I did was stab a fork through the hand of our nanny. Claire was soft; she didn’t hold grudges. I did. While I was locked up, the nanny had been whispering that Claire was “cursed” and feeding her weird herbal concoctions to “purge the evil.” No one knew there were two of us except Mother and the staff. They thought Claire was the one who killed the rabbit. When the nanny leaned over to force-feed Claire that bitter sludge, I drove the fork into her palm. It was fun. A satisfying crunch. I poured the sludge over her screaming face. “Consider it a bonus.” 2 That was the last straw. Mother was terrified. She had her bodyguards bind me and dump me in the city’s derelict industrial zone—the Boneyard. “I don’t have a monster for a daughter! The rumors were right, twins are a curse. From now on, I only have Claire!” Three days later, I walked back into the estate. I was covered in filth and dried blood, gripping those same silver scissors. To Mother, I must have looked like a demon crawling out of hell. I grinned, revealing teeth that looked too white against the dirt. “Mother, I’m hungry.” After that, Mother tried to kill me multiple times. But every attempt failed. And strangely, every time she tried to hurt me, Claire would get violently ill. High fevers, seizures. When I was on the brink of death, Claire’s breathing would shallow. Mother couldn’t risk losing her perfect daughter. She compromised. She chained me in the hidden room. I found out later that Claire had been inducing those illnesses—taking ice baths in winter, eating foods she was allergic to—just to make Mother think our lives were linked. She risked dying to save me. I stayed in that room for ten years. Mother never visited. Only Claire. She brought me novels so I wouldn’t be bored. She bought me a high-tech nightlight with her allowance so I wouldn’t be scared of the dark. She taught me how to read, how to sing. Even when I had episodes and bit her, she never got angry. Aside from a boy I met in the Boneyard, Claire was the only human being I tolerated. But this time, I waited a month, and Claire didn’t come. The heavy steel door creaked open. Mother, looking ten years older, stepped in. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face haggard. “Your sister… something has happened.” 3 Claire was in a coma. Her head had been shaved. Her face was a roadmap of deep, jagged scars. Her fingers had been crushed. “Who?” I asked. My voice was rusty from disuse. That’s when I learned what my gentle sister had endured. Three powerful men. The untouchables of the city. They had played with her like a toy. I laughed, a cold, dry sound. “Mother, you know what happens if you let me off this chain, right?” Mother shredded the silk handkerchief in her hands. Her eyes burned with a venomous light. “I want the men who hurt my Claire… to die.” And so, I became Claire. For a month, no one was allowed in Claire’s room except the doctors and Mother. I spent that month starving myself to match her wasted frame, studying her mannerisms. We were identical, and Claire had taught me everything she knew in that secret room. I softened my gaze. I hid the predator behind a mask of doe-eyed innocence. Even Mother flinched when she looked at me; the resemblance was terrifying. But it wasn’t enough. Claire had been branded. “Your father knows,” Mother whispered, stirring a bowl of soup laced with arsenic for her husband. “But he needed the political connections. He turned a blind eye.” Father had climbed from a low-level bureaucrat to a top government official on Claire’s back. Julian Vance, the Senator’s son, had a “savior complex.” He loved gentle, broken things. He had met Claire at a charity gala and became obsessed. He wanted her as a trophy wife, but Claire refused. Enraged by the rejection, and jealous of her friendship with the academic prodigy Oliver Thorne, Julian broke into her room. Because Julian was powerful, Father let it happen. He treated it like a business transaction. I picked up a scalpel. I needed to replicate the scar Julian had left on her thigh. A jagged ‘V’. I carved it into my own flesh without blinking. I put the bloody scalpel in a velvet box. One day, I would use it on Julian Vance. 4 There was more. Sterling Cross, heir to a shipping empire, had burned a lotus flower brand onto her lower back. Claire was brilliant. A pianist, a painter, a scholar. She was better than any man in their circle. Sterling hated that. He liked to destroy beautiful things. He wanted to break her spirit. I heated the iron. I pressed it into my skin until the smell of burning meat filled the room. When the wounds healed enough to pass as old scars, I moved back into Claire’s bedroom. Her personal assistant, Maya, looked at me with a flicker of surprise. “Don’t recognize me after a few months?” I asked, mimicking Claire’s soft, melodic voice. Maya looked down, shifting her feet. “You just seem… even more beautiful than before, Miss Claire.” “Miss, Oliver Thorne heard you were recovering. He invited you to the Skyline Lounge.” Oliver Thorne. The youngest professor at the university. Claire’s “soulmate.” The public knew Claire was entangled with Sterling and Julian. They called her a social climber, a whore who played powerful men against each other. Only Oliver defended her. He admired her mind. He was the “good guy.” But I didn’t miss the way Maya blushed when she said his name.

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Everyone who knows Damian Cross knows he treated me like a princess. I once casually mentioned I wanted a star, and the next day, there was a certificate on my nightstand naming a celestial body “Sloane.” Everyone thought he was hopelessly in love with me. I almost believed it myself. Until one day, I overheard him talking to his friends. “In love with Sloane? Don’t make me laugh. She’s just a placeholder. A pastime to keep me entertained until Audrey gets back from Paris. Now that she’s returning, it’s time to cut Sloane loose.” Hearing Damian’s words didn’t break my heart. Actually, I let out a sigh of relief. Sleeping with the same man for two months is like eating the same meal every night. I was starving for something new. I immediately turned around and gifted the ten-thousand-dollar “breakup watch” I’d bought him to a gorgeous, obedient college student who knows exactly how to call me “Ma’am.” 1 It was eleven at night when I got back to Damian’s penthouse. I kicked off my heels in the foyer and realized, a beat too late, that the living room wasn’t empty. Damian was sitting in the dark on the leather sofa. He radiated an aura of “don’t mess with me.” His side profile was undeniably perfect. Sharp jawline, brooding eyes. That’s what attracted me in the first place. It’s just a shame… Even filet mignon gets boring if you have it every day. Thinking about how he planned to dump me made me hum a little tune. I walked past him, unbothered. He finally spoke, his voice low and laced with suppressed anger. “Where were you?” “Drinks with a friend.” I finally noticed the dining table. The plating was exquisite, but the steak was stone cold. The tapered candles had burned down to awkward nubs. Rose petals were scattered across the mahogany, looking wilting and sad. I raised an eyebrow. “You did this?” His eyes were dark with possessiveness. “Why didn’t you text back? Who were you with for this long?” I glanced at my phone. I remembered chatting with Leo, the young guy I’d met. My phone had been blowing up with notifications, so I’d checked it. Leo had looked up at me with those big, puppy-dog eyes, his voice dripping with playful jealousy. “You’re so busy, Sloane. I finally get a moment with you, and you’re talking to someone else? If you’re busy, it’s okay… I’m just happy to sit next to you.” He was handsome, young, and sweet. How could I not be charmed? So, I silenced my phone. Which meant I missed Damian’s texts telling me to come home early. I’d left him waiting all night. “Sorry,” I said, sounding sincere enough. “Something important came up.” Suddenly, rows of floating text appeared in the air in front of me. It was The Commentary. The toxic peanut gallery of the universe. [So the heroine’s ‘important business’ is cheating? Disgusting.] [What kind of romance heroine stays out until midnight? She should be waiting at home!] [She needs to learn her place. She only matters because the hero chose her!] [If a man stays out late, it’s business. If a woman does it, she’s loose. She deserves whatever happens to her.] [The hero cooked for the first time! He burned his hand for her! And she’s out flirting?] [She deserves it when he goes back to his true love, Audrey. She needs to be humbled.] I rolled my eyes at the invisible text. The double standards were exhausting. “Something important” meant networking. And Leo. Technically, we hadn’t done anything but talk. Yet. 2 Still, I felt a twinge of guilt about the wasted steak. “You haven’t eaten, right? Should I… order you a pizza?” “No,” Damian said coldly. I nodded and headed for the shower. “I’ll have my assistant book you a hotel tomorrow,” Damian said to my back. “You’re moving out.” I turned around, crossing my arms. “Is this the breakup?” I was about to say, Great, deal, when he cut me off. His gaze raked over me. “Were we ever really together?” I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I should have used that line first. Imagine how satisfying that would have been. Damian saw the annoyance on my face and misinterpreted it as pain. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. His mood instantly lifted. “I have other properties,” he said casually. “You can pick one. If I have time… I might visit.” [See? He still loves her. He can’t let her go.] The Commentary floated by. I saw it for what it was. He wanted to keep me as a side piece while he pursued his “White Moonlight,” Audrey. I’m the heiress to a fortune. I don’t do “side piece.” “No thanks,” I said. “I can afford a hotel.” “Oh, right.” I walked over to the sofa, grabbed my bag, and pulled out a stack of cash. Ten grand. I threw it onto the coffee table. “Consider this rent for the last two months. I don’t want you to feel used. I’ll stay tonight since it’s late, but I’m gone in the morning.” He frowned, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re treating my home like a motel?” I yawned, covering my mouth. “Isn’t it?” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. His eyes were intense. “Then who is your home, Sloane?” I ripped my hand away. “None of your business. You’re the one ending things. What, are you gonna miss me now?” His pupils constricted. He looked at me like I was radioactive. “Of course not.” “Good,” I smirked. “We were just having fun. It would be embarrassing if one of us caught feelings.” Damian’s face turned black. “Whoever catches feelings is a dog.” I went to the bedroom to grab my pajamas. The room was set up for seduction. Scented candles, fresh roses, and a box of strawberry condoms on the nightstand. A single rose petal had fallen right on the box. I suddenly felt nauseous. Thank god I stood him up. Eating the same meat every day really does ruin your appetite. The next morning, I checked into the Four Seasons. My phone buzzed. Damian: Where are you? I replied: Moved out. Thanks for the hospitality. Damian: Did you forget something? [She’s playing hard to get! He’s hooked!] The Commentary cheered. [She forgot her heart! She forgot HIM!] I thought for a second. Actually, I did. I Venmo’d him $500. Forgot to pay for last night’s stay. Thanks. Damian: You are unbelievable. Men are so contradictory. He wanted to break up, but now he’s mad I’m gone. 3 I saw Damian again a week later at a private charity auction. I brought Leo. And I gave him a title. Since we’d crossed the line from friends to lovers, Leo had been insatiable. Between breathless moments, he’d bite my ear and whisper, “Sloane, you have my body now. Give me a title. Call me your boyfriend.” I was weak for him. So, there we were. And there was Damian, with Audrey, his “White Moonlight” who had just returned from France. Audrey was beautiful—elegant, poised, classic. We sat in the front row. Damian and Audrey sat directly behind us. Leo interlaced his fingers with mine. I felt a burning gaze boring into the back of my hand. A friend of Leo’s walked by and laughed. “Leo, you player. Your ex is staring daggers at you. Did you hire someone to make her jealous?” The burning gaze vanished. I heard Damian scoff behind me. I ignored him. The auction was boring until a vintage, limited-edition Patek Philippe watch came up. “That watch looks nice,” Audrey whispered. “If you like it, it’s yours,” Damian declared. A few days ago, I had been looking at the auction catalog on Damian’s couch. He had asked what I liked. “Just the watch,” I’d said. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. But I hadn’t told him why I liked it. The moment I saw it, I knew it would look perfect on Leo’s strong, veiny wrist. 4 The bidding started at $100,000. I waited until the crowd thinned out. “Two hundred and fifty thousand,” I said, raising my paddle. “Two hundred and thirty thousand,” Damian said simultaneously. [Why is she bidding against him? It makes him look bad!] [She’s just jealous. She doesn’t want him buying it for Audrey.] [She’s wasting money to get his attention. Pathetic.] “Three hundred thousand,” Damian drawled. “Three hundred thousand and one dollar,” I countered. “Three fifty.” “Three fifty… and one dollar.” By the time we hit six hundred thousand, it was just the two of us. Damian’s friend leaned over. “Dude, just ask her for it. She’ll give it to you.” Damian apparently believed this delusion. I won the watch for $650,001. When the staff brought it over, Damian spoke up, cool and arrogant. “Audrey really likes that watch, Sloane. Let her have it.” [She has to give it up! He asked!] I laughed. Loudly. “You’re generous with other people’s property, Damian. If you like giving things away so much, why don’t you give me your CEO position?” I turned to Audrey. “Ms. Wu, be careful. A man who gives up on things you like this easily… isn’t reliable.” Damian looked ready to explode. I turned to Leo and handed him the box. “For you.” I smiled. “I saw it in the catalog and knew it belonged on your wrist.” Leo beamed. “Put it on for me?” I obliged. As I fastened the clasp, I glanced back. Damian was gripping Audrey’s arm so hard his knuckles were white. “Ouch! Damian!” Audrey cried out. He snapped out of his trance. “Sorry. I… I was distracted.”

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My boyfriend, who had never paid attention to my appearance, suddenly said something strange while blow-drying my hair two days ago. “You should dye your hair auburn. It would look so good. It really complements the skin tone.” This man, a complete fashion disaster, knows that auburn complements skin tone? Whose skin tone? 1 Water dripped from the ends of my hair onto my neck, cold as ice. I sat up, dodging his hand. Caleb’s breath hitched. He snapped back to reality. Realizing what he had just said, panic flashed in his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down rapidly. After a moment of silence, he awkwardly changed the subject: “Why did you sit up? Your hair isn’t dry yet.” I lowered my eyes. Even though my hands behind my back were trembling uncontrollably, my voice remained calm and natural: “It’s dry enough.” “It’s getting late. You should go shower.” He paused, then stood up compliantly. Habitually, he reached out to touch the top of my head and the ends of my hair. Confirming that my hair was indeed mostly dry, he finally left with relief. A moment later. The sound of water started in the bathroom. I suppressed the emotions churning in my heart and, with trembling hands, picked up Caleb’s phone. I entered the passcode. Five seconds later. The four words on the screen: [Incorrect Passcode], completely shattered my last shred of hope. I tried my birthday, Caleb’s birthday, our anniversary… none of them opened his phone. [Incorrect Passcode. You have 1 attempt remaining.] The cold, mechanical system prompt made my world collapse. For so many years, I never thought about checking Caleb’s phone. Because, until today, his passcode had always been my birthday. Because he had promised me that I could check his phone anytime I wanted. But the irony was, in the year I trusted him the most, he changed his passcode, and I didn’t know. What was even more ironic… Tomorrow was the day Caleb and I had been looking forward to for so long—our wedding day. Not far away hung the wedding dress and tuxedo we had carefully selected. Even a second ago, he was nervously confirming the details of tomorrow’s wedding with me over and over again. I didn’t want to believe it. But a clear voice in my heart kept telling me: [Caleb is cheating.] I curled up in the corner of the sofa. My hands were shaking so much I could barely hold the phone. The water in the bathroom stopped. Caleb walked out. Seeing me, his gentle and doting words slipped out: “Chloe, why aren’t you asleep yet?” “Didn’t you say you wanted to be the most beautiful bride tomorrow…” He stood in front of me. But when he saw what I was holding, the unfinished words got stuck in his throat. He was very close to me. Close enough that I could see his pupils constrict and the panic that flashed in his eyes. I stared at his slightly pale face and handed him the phone: “Why did you change your passcode?” 2 He forced a stiff smile. Pretending to be calm, he took the phone. His fingers paused on the screen for a second, then he skillfully entered the passcode and unlocked it. “Didn’t I break my old phone?” “The new phone’s passcode was set by the salesperson. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time to change it.” After unlocking it. He handed the phone back to me: “Look at whatever you want.” His confident demeanor dazed me for a moment. Perhaps he was too sure I wouldn’t check. When I raised my hand, his hand instinctively flinched back. I lowered my eyes and pretended not to see. I took the phone as if it were natural. While scrolling, I even managed to distract myself and casually explain to him: “My phone died. I suddenly remembered something and need to call Mom.” His contacts were clean. His chat history was wiped clean. Everything was flawless. But his shifting eyes and his constantly bobbing Adam’s apple still made my heart grow colder by the inch. I suddenly lost interest in investigating to the end. I handed the phone back: “Forget it, it’s not a big deal. I’ll ask her in person tomorrow.” Hearing my words, he breathed a sigh of relief. He chuckled: “I thought my wife was having pre-wedding jitters and wanted to check up on me?” I looked up and stared at him: “If I really wanted to check up on you, would you be scared?” He was stunned, then took two steps forward. He knelt on one knee in front of me, with a sincerity and certainty I had never seen before: “Of course not. After so many years, we finally made it here. How could I dare do anything to hurt you?” “When we got together, I swore that if Caleb ever did anything to hurt Chloe, he would be punished by losing Chloe forever.” “Chloe, you know that losing you would be worse than death for me.” I stared at this familiar yet somewhat strange face. I kept asking myself. Yeah, how could he dare? He’s Caleb. The Caleb who has loved me for eight years. How could he lie to me and betray me? I wanted to deceive myself again. But the text message notification for a three-thousand-dollar charge at a hair salon was still sitting in my phone. 3 Caleb went to the hair salon today. Spent three thousand dollars. And used my card. He probably forgot that the salon membership was linked to my phone number. When the text came in this afternoon, I was still making excuses for him. Maybe he took his mom to get her hair done since tomorrow is the big day. Maybe a relative came to town and wanted to get their hair done. Maybe… But, during the ten minutes he was showering. I had already called to confirm. None of our relatives had seen hide nor hair of him all afternoon. In other words. On the busiest day before the wedding. Caleb hid from everyone, took half a day off, and took a woman I didn’t know to get her hair done. And she dyed her hair auburn. That color must be beautiful. Beautiful enough that he, who was usually so cautious, blurted out today that I should change my hair color. I closed my eyes, suppressing the emotions surging in them. I said to him hoarsely: “You go to sleep first. I have some details to think over.” Caleb thought I was thinking about wedding details. His brows relaxed. He reached out and ruffled my hair, patiently comforting me: “Silly, don’t be nervous.” “Our wedding will definitely go perfectly tomorrow.” His phone chimed with a message notification. He glanced at it, turned off the screen as usual, and added: “Don’t stay up too late. I need to reply to a work message.” He went to the study. The door closed, shutting everything out. But, a few minutes later. He had changed his clothes, grabbed his car keys, and walked up to me with an apologetic face: “Chloe, there’s a huge problem with the project I’m working on. I have to go fix it tonight.” “Go to sleep first, don’t wait for me.” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely make it to the wedding on time tomorrow.” The anxiety and annoyance on his face were undisguised. He didn’t even wait for my reply before rushing off. The sound of the car engine faded into the distance. I looked at the closed door. My heart was filled with sorrow. This kind of sudden overtime. Had actually happened several times in the past year. I had been suspicious before. But the occasional photos of him working overtime always managed to dispel my doubts in time. But today. I seemed to finally glimpse the truth. I stood up numbly and tore down every red decoration in our new home, piece by piece. When I was tired, I sat directly on the floor, hugged myself tightly, and let the tears blur my vision. Caleb, we have no tomorrow. 4 Morning light shone through the gap in the curtains. I stood up from the ruins. Cleaned myself up simply. And went to that hair salon I knew so well. When Caleb was frantically calling me, I was sitting in the salon listening to the stylist recommend the trendiest hair colors. I glanced at the caller ID. And silenced it. Half an hour later, I sent my location to Caleb. When he found me, he looked terrible. He stood at the door, trembling. He didn’t even have the courage to step inside. I stood up. Picked up the samples of auburn hair colors the stylist had found for me, and walked over to Caleb. I showed them to him one by one: “Pick one. Which of these auburn shades looks the best?” His face went instantly pale. His lips trembled uncontrollably, but he couldn’t say a word. I raised an eyebrow: “So it’s none of these? Let me look again.” He tried to grab me but didn’t even have the strength to reach out. I turned around. He finally recovered enough to grab the hem of my shirt. His lips quivered, his words broken. “Chloe, I’m sorry.” “But today is our big day. Our parents and relatives are waiting for us at the hotel.” “Let’s get the important stuff done first.” “When we get back, I’ll kneel and apologize, I’ll do whatever you want. You can hit me, scold me, anything.” I tilted my head and looked at him, asking seriously: “Did you really go to work last night?” His face turned even paler, and his hand clutching my shirt instantly lost strength and slipped off. I smiled slightly. I picked up the sample book in my hand and smashed it into his face. The hard edge of the book cut his cheek, leaving a stinging red trail of blood. He didn’t dare dodge from start to finish. Tired of hitting him. I sat back down on the stool. He followed me in, half-kneeling in front of me, his tone timid: “Are you feeling a little better?” “It’s almost time for the wedding…” I closed my eyes heavily, hiding the desolation in them. I didn’t know where Caleb got his confidence. After everything that happened, how could he naively believe the wedding could still go on as planned? I ignored him. I called the stylist over and cut off the long hair I had painstakingly grown for a year for this wedding. Caleb waited on the side, watching the hair fall to the ground strand by strand, not daring to utter a word of objection. Cutting back to my original short hairstyle, I was dazed for a moment. It turned out. After going in circles, short hair suited me best after all. What doesn’t fit, whether you insist for a year or eight years, still doesn’t fit. I exhaled the gloom in my heart. Turned and left the hair salon. Got into Caleb’s car. After all, I had to explain to everyone why the wedding was canceled because of what Caleb did.

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I spent two years wiping his face, massaging his atrophied muscles, and whispering to a man who couldn’t hear me. Or so I thought. On the day Caleb Sterling finally opened his eyes, his “first love,” Chloe, swept into the room in a white dress, holding a bouquet of lilies. “Caleb,” she sobbed beautifully. “I’ve taken care of you for two years. You’re finally back. Will you marry me?” He stared at her blankly, then reached out and took the flowers. Standing in the corner, I felt my heart shrivel. Two years of devotion, erased in a second. I was just the background character in their epic romance. Then, Caleb sat up and kicked her square in the chest. “Absolutely not! Get the hell out! I was in a coma, Chloe, I wasn’t dead.” He threw the flowers at her shrieking form. “You want me to marry you? Keep dreaming. Actually, don’t even dream about it. It makes me sick.” 1 I’m Maya. The invisible daughter. I spent two years living in the Sterling estate, caring for Caleb after the car crash that nearly killed us both. Today, at the Sterling mansion, I was blocked by security while Chloe strutted in. She stopped to sneer at me. “Give it up, Maya. You can’t compete with me.” “You think washing his face for two years matters? Watch. I’ll propose, and he’ll say yes. He’s always loved me.” I believed her. Caleb and Chloe grew up together in the Hamptons. They were the golden couple. Before the accident, Caleb treated her like a princess. But I needed to see him wake up. Just once. I stood in the shadows as the family doctor finished his examination. The moment the doctor stepped back, the double doors swung open. Sunlight flooded the room, framing Chloe like an angel. “Caleb… I’ve waited so long. I took care of everything. Now that you’re back… marry me? Let’s finally be together.” Caleb rubbed his eyes, silent. Chloe pressed on, her voice trembling with rehearsed emotion. “I love you so much. You slept for two years, and I watched over you for two years. It’s finally our time. It’s fate.” Caleb stopped rubbing his eyes. He reached out. He took the bouquet. I closed my eyes. Of course. Then came the thud. And the scream. “Fate?” Caleb roared, his voice raspy but terrifyingly loud. “You call pregnant with some other guy’s baby ‘fate’? You think I look like a charity case here to raise your bastard?” “Get lost!” Me: Wow. 2 Chloe sat on the floor, stunned. Her perfect makeup was smudged. “Caleb… what… what are you saying?” “Are you deaf or just stupid?” Caleb snapped. “Do I need to repeat what you said while you were hooking up with your boyfriend right next to my hospital bed?” “Caleb, no! Listen to me!” “No?” Caleb’s face flushed red—probably from the exertion of kicking her. He slumped back against the pillows but kept pointing a finger. “Wasn’t it you who brought guys into my room? Wasn’t it you who laughed about how ‘exciting’ it was to cheat next to a vegetable? Wasn’t it you calling me a brain-dead cripple? And now you propose? Do you have no shame?” My jaw hit the floor. Chloe hadn’t lifted a finger to help him in two years. I assumed she was just lazy and wanted to steal my credit. I didn’t realize she was using his room as a motel. Chloe’s face went from pale to green. She pointed a shaking finger at me. “Caleb! That wasn’t me! That was Maya! I love you! I’m Chloe, your Chloe!” “I know you’re Chloe,” Caleb sneered. “If I didn’t know you well enough, I wouldn’t have known you were that heartless. Loving you was my biggest mistake.” “Caleb…” “Get out. Before I release the hounds.” 3 Caleb wasn’t bluffing. He hated her. Chloe was terrified of dogs. Before the accident, Caleb locked his beloved Dobermans in the basement whenever she visited. Once, when his dog had puppies, Chloe had the staff throw them out into the snow while Caleb was away. They froze to death. He never forgave her for that, but he never threatened her. Until now. “I’m serious!” Caleb shouted. “Arthur! Get me ten dogs. Big ones. If she comes back, let them loose.” “And burn this furniture. The sofa, the curtains—she touched them. Disinfect the whole room. Who knows what diseases she has.” Chloe tried to squeeze out a few tears. “Caleb, we grew up together… why are you humiliating me?” “I’m humiliating you?” Caleb laughed darkly. “I didn’t bring a lover to your bedside. Get out!” He turned to the butler. “Arthur! Get Bella. Tell her it’s feeding time.” Bella was the mother of the puppies Chloe had killed. Chloe shrieked, gathered her dress, and ran. On her way out, she shot me a look of pure venom. I decided to slip away while the chaos settled. I turned to the side door, hoping to disappear. “Maya?” I froze. I’m the illegitimate daughter of the family. The one kept in the attic. Caleb used to only have eyes for Chloe. He shouldn’t even know my name. “Maya, my head hurts. Why aren’t you comforting me?” He sounded… whiny? “And why didn’t you kick that psycho out sooner? I’ve been awake for twenty minutes and I’m already exhausted. I missed you so much, and you try to leave?” “Do you only like me when I’m a vegetable? Fine, I’ll go back to sleep. But say yes to my proposal first.” I stared at him. Did the coma fry his brain? Or did he wake up with a personality transplant? He tried to stand, wobbling. He braced himself against the wall. “Maya. I love you. Marry me.” I was paralyzed. He seemed to sense my confusion. His expression softened. “Maya, I know it was you. For two years. I felt you wipe my hands with warm towels. I smelled the lotion you put on my skin. I heard you crying when Arthur wasn’t in the room.” “I was locked in my own body, but I made a promise. If I ever woke up, I would treat you like a queen. I would marry you.” “My legs are still jelly, but give me a few weeks. We’ll get married. Then we can cuddle. For real.” He stumbled. I instinctively rushed forward to catch him. He collapsed into my arms, grinning like an idiot. “I knew you loved me. Here, take the flowers. Chloe has trash personality, but she picks decent lilies.” I looked at him. This wasn’t the cold, aloof CEO I remembered. “Maya? Why won’t you speak? Say yes.” I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Caleb frowned. He gently lifted my chin. “Maya… what happened to your voice?” I couldn’t answer. 4 He dragged me to the hospital immediately. The diagnosis was the same as before. Vocal cord paralysis caused by trauma from the accident two years ago. Exacerbated by lack of timely treatment. Caleb’s eyes welled up. “Maya… I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been driving…” I watched him cry in his wheelchair and thought back to that night. It was pouring rain. Caleb was picking Chloe up from the airport. My father forced me to go along to carry her luggage. A truck lost its brakes and swerved into our lane. Caleb swerved. He put his side of the car in the impact zone to save the passenger side. To save me. If he hadn’t turned the wheel, I would be dead. Instead, I lost my voice, and he lost two years of his life. I grabbed his hand and wrote on his palm with my finger: Not your fault. You saved me. He looked at the words, tracing them. Then his face hardened. “The doctor said it was treatable. Why didn’t your family pay for surgery? Chloe gets a million-dollar piano, and they let you go mute?” He didn’t know. My father, Richard, barely acknowledged my existence. When the accident happened, they were too busy crying over Caleb to notice I was hurt. By the time I realized the damage, it was “too expensive” and “not a priority.” “Maya,” Caleb said, his voice dropping an octave. “I will fix this. And the people who did this to you? They’re going to pay.” Just then, my phone rang. It was my father.

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I watched my roommate take her last breath right in front of me. She was attacked by a groundskeeper on her way back from the library a few days ago. To bury the scandal, the university offered the rest of us in the dorm guaranteed spots in the graduate program. But today, I heard a strange rumor. “Did you hear? Someone saw the girl who died… they said she was studying by the old library again!” 1 I suppressed the shock rising in my chest and hurried back to the dorm. My roommate, Sarah, was already there. Her face was paler than mine, and she looked visibly shaken. “Sarah,” my voice trembled, “did you hear the rumor… about Lily?” Sarah looked at me as if I were a lifeline and nodded vigorously. She glanced around the room nervously, as if afraid of disturbing something unseen, then leaned in and whispered, “Sunny, do you think it’s true? Do you think she… came back?” “Impossible,” I said quickly, trying to convince myself as much as her. “We saw her die. People don’t come back from the dead. They must have seen someone else.” “That’s not what I mean,” Sarah hissed. “I mean… what if she came back for revenge?” My breath hitched. “Why would she? I didn’t kill her. It was… an accident. If she wants revenge, she won’t come for me.” But deep down, the thought had already taken root. Sarah’s fear turned into annoyance. “Sunny, don’t you dare try to put this all on me. You played a part in her death too. If she’s back for blood, neither of us is safe.” I stayed silent. I didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. Lily had a heart condition. After the assault on University Avenue, the shock triggered an attack. She was lying on the ground, gasping for air, her pills just out of reach. I had moved to help her, but Sarah stopped me. She stared at Lily with a terrifying intensity. “Sunny, do you want that grad school spot?” “If Lily dies because of this scandal… the school might guarantee spots for the three of us to keep us quiet.” I hesitated. Shamefully, I hesitated. I studied hard every day, but my grades were just shy of the cutoff. A guaranteed spot would secure my future. Sarah kicked the pill bottle away, sending it skittering into the darkness. I watched her do it. I hesitated. I didn’t stop her. Because of my hesitation, Lily died, her hand still reaching for the medicine that could have saved her. Just as Sarah predicted, the university hushed it up and offered us the spots. I thought it was over. But now… Before Sarah could say more, the door opened. Our third roommate, Emily, walked in. Sarah shut up instantly, blinking at me before turning to Emily with a forced casualness. “Emily, did you hear someone saw Lily on University Avenue? Do you know anything about it?” “Really? Haven’t heard,” Emily replied flatly. She climbed into her bed and turned her back to us. Sarah rolled her eyes and texted me a stream of complaints. She’s so cold. No roommate loyalty at all. Lily dies and she doesn’t even care. She hated Lily anyway. Probably happy she’s gone. If it weren’t for us, she wouldn’t even have that grad spot. Ungrateful. I wanted to roll my eyes too. If Sarah had “roommate loyalty,” she wouldn’t have kicked Lily’s medicine away. But I was no better. I comforted Sarah over text. I don’t care. I’m going to check University Avenue myself. Sunny, you have to come with me. 2 I stared at the message. Was she crazy? She thinks Lily is a ghost, and she wants to go find her? But I wanted to know too. Having someone with me felt safer. We picked noon the next day—broad daylight, maximum sun. We went to the study corner on University Avenue. If anyone saw Lily, it would be here. There were plenty of girls with long hair reading, but none of them were Lily. I heard Sarah let out a long breath behind me. “See? I told you. They saw it wrong.” She still wasn’t reassured. She dragged me up and down the avenue several times. Only when we were absolutely sure Lily wasn’t there did she smile. For the next few days, we “coincidentally” walked by that spot, scanning every face. No Lily. It was just a rumor. But the night I finally relaxed, a man jumped from the roof of the Humanities building. 3 When we heard someone jumped, a crowd rushed to see. Sarah and I went too. Suicides happen on campus sometimes. The pressure is high. But when I saw the body, my blood ran cold. It was a man in a groundskeeper’s uniform. His face was a mess, unrecognizable. But sticking out of his pocket was a delicate, expensive hair clip. I knew that clip. Lily’s dad gave it to her for her birthday. It cost a fortune, and she loved showing it off. Why was it on this man? I knew then. He was the one who attacked Lily. A chill crawled up my spine. Sarah grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. She was trembling. “It’s her… she’s back for revenge.” I looked at Sarah’s terrified face and couldn’t find a single word of comfort. We stood there, clinging to each other as campus security shooed us away. Strange. Why wasn’t the Dean of Students here? She usually handled these things. As we walked back, Sarah kept looking over her shoulder. Suddenly, someone shouted. I looked up. Fire. 4 It was coming from the faculty office building! I ran with the crowd. “The fire started in the Dean’s office,” someone whispered. “Everyone got out except her. She’s still inside.” My heart sank. The Dean was the one who covered up Lily’s death. She was the one who proposed the grad school spots. First the attacker. Now the cover-up artist. It wasn’t a coincidence. The heat from the fire hit my face, but I felt freezing cold. When the fire was out, they brought out the Dean’s body. She was curled up like a piece of charcoal. The smell of burnt meat mixed with the acrid smoke made me gag. Sarah vomited right there on the grass. She wiped her mouth, looking at me with wide, panicked eyes. “Sunny… what do we do? are we next?”

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The Sterling family was going bankrupt, and Declan Sterling was reduced to working as a host at a luxury club. I immediately drove straight to Cloud 9, threw down my black card, and announced with glee: “One dance, ten grand.” “Shirtless, fifty grand.” “In a place like this, you know what kind of dance I mean, right?” That jerk. He always stole my business deals. Now I was going to humiliate him until he begged for mercy. Declan looked at me, his hand slowly reaching for the top button of his shirt. Two minutes later, he stopped and handed me a tissue. Me: “?” Declan: “Wipe your nose. You’re bleeding.” 1 What the…? I swiped a finger under my nose and saw a smear of bright red. Me: … I must have eaten too much spicy food today. This was humiliating. Declan probably thought I was bleeding because I saw him strip. I snatched the tissue from his hand, plugged my nose, and crossed my legs like I owned the place. “Keep going. The song isn’t over. Don’t stop.” I lifted my chin, trying to look unimpressed. Declan glanced at me with zero emotion, then stepped back into the open space. The strobe lights swept across his bare chest, highlighting muscles that were lean and dangerously defined. This whole situation was absurd. Declan Sterling, the ruthless heir who used to crush me in boardrooms, was now dancing shirtless for my amusement. I expected him to look ashamed. Instead, his eyes were focused, his expression solemn. He was dancing a seductive routine with the seriousness of a military drill. I gritted my teeth. Damn it. We’re both men. Why does he have an eight-pack? I felt like I was paying to make myself feel insecure. When the song ended, Declan stopped. “Seen enough?” “Huh?” I dragged my eyes away from his abs. “Oh, I was just—” “If it’s not enough, I can do another song. You can pay again.” Declan stood there with his perfect face, negotiating a lap dance like it was a merger acquisition. Me: … Is this the famous Sterling work ethic? He’s the most professional male stripper I’ve ever seen. Seeing my silence, Declan continued. “You can try watching one more. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to pay. From your perspective, it’s a zero-risk investment.” … I was silent for thirty seconds, then slapped my card on the table. “Fine. One more. If I’m happy, I’ll buy a bottle of your most expensive champagne. For your commission.” 2 Walking out of Cloud 9, I felt like I was floating. Declan had just given a masterclass on how to use sex appeal to extract $60,000 from a man’s wallet. I, who had never set foot in a host club, was now their Supreme VIP. The manager added me on WeChat, bowing like a bobblehead. My opinion of Declan had shifted. I used to think his success was just nepotism. But today, he made me spend a fortune and became the club’s top earner on his first night. I have to respect the hustle. I couldn’t learn six dance routines on my first day as a stripper. His skills were unmatched. My phone buzzed. It was the group chat: [Declan’s Victims Support Group]. Rich Girl Ruby: [@Alex, update! Did you go? Did you book Declan? Spill the tea!] Sean: [I still think it’s fake news. Declan is too proud. Even if he’s broke, he wouldn’t become a host.] I typed. Alex: [It’s true.] Ruby: [!!! Omg hahahaha karma is real! That’s what he gets for stealing my clients!] Sean: [Wait, he’s actually for sale?] Ruby: [@Alex tell us everything! Did you humiliate him? Was it fun?] I thought back to the nosebleed. It was exciting, sure. I still had tissues up my nose. Alex: […How do I put this? It was great. His abs are nice.] The chat exploded with question marks. Ruby: [Define ‘nice’. Be specific.] Ugh. Describing it would get me banned. Alex: [Can’t describe it. Go see for yourself.] Ruby: [Fine! I’m going tomorrow!] Sean: [Good luck, soldier.] I locked my phone and started my car. Declan should thank me. I just referred him a high-value client. 3 Without the Sterling family undercutting me, business was booming. Mr. Lee, a client I’d been chasing for months, finally reached out. I booked a dinner with him immediately to seal the deal. At 8 PM, I pulled into the restaurant parking lot. My phone started vibrating like it was possessed. Ruby: [What the hell! Why is Declan so arrogant even as a stripper?!] Sean: [Did he roast you?] Ruby: [No! I didn’t even see him! The manager said Declan is the ‘Top Host’ now. He has the right to refuse clients. He said he wasn’t in the mood!] Ruby: [I’ve spent millions at that club! I’m a VVVVIP! I said I’d pay double, and the manager just said ‘Declan says no’.] Ruby: [Is this legal?! I cancelled a date for this! I’m getting wrinkles from the stress!] Sean: […That sounds insane, but also very Declan.] While Ruby ranted, a message popped up from the manager of Cloud 9. Manager Chen: [Mr. Alex, hello! Will you be visiting tonight? We had Declan learn some new moves. Very spicy. Guaranteed satisfaction~] Me: … This was not the experience Ruby described. Mr. Lee was waiting, so I replied quickly. Alex: [Not tonight. Business dinner. Next time.] Manager Chen: [Will you be drinking at this dinner?] …Why does he care? Weird. But I was polite. Alex: [Yes.] I put the phone away. 4 The dinner went perfectly. Mr. Lee signed the contract. I celebrated with a few too many glasses of wine. After seeing Mr. Lee off, I opened my phone to call a designated driver. Suddenly, a blue electric scooter drifted around the corner, braked hard, and stopped right in front of me. A long leg extended to the ground. “Hello. Do you need a driver?” That voice… The rider lifted his blue helmet visor. Underneath was a face so handsome it made me angry. Silence. “You… are a designated driver?” The income gap between a host and a driver is massive. Declan’s expression was stable. “It’s my night off. This is my side gig.” “…But an hour ago, Manager Chen said you learned new dances for me.” “Oh. I applied for leave thirty minutes ago.” Me: … Declan Sterling driving a scooter for Uber Eats money. It felt like a fever dream. He took off his helmet, shaking his hair out like he was in a shampoo commercial. “It’s hard to get a driver for a car like yours. One scratch costs more than their annual salary.” “But I’m a good driver. I used to own cars like this. I won’t be afraid to drive it. Alex, you should consider me.” He made a compelling point. I’d been rejected by five drivers before because of my car. I handed him the keys. “You’re hired.”

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Lately, something has been seriously bothering me. My freshly washed underwear always had a strange smell. I told my roommates, “Do you think a pervert got into our dorm?” But my roommates said I was overthinking it. One of them even spread rumors that I was promiscuous and had caught a dirty disease. I was furious, and I made a decision. I secretly coated my underwear with ghost pepper sauce. That night, screams echoed through the room. 1 I think I’m being targeted by a pervert. The underwear hanging on the balcony always has a weird smell. It started half a month ago. I was collecting my laundry from the balcony as usual. As soon as I took down a pair of panties, a fishy stench hit my nose. It smelled like rotting fish that had been left out for days. “Ugh—” I gagged, nearly throwing the clothes in my hand. Fighting back the nausea, I brought the underwear closer to inspect. Besides the smell, there were some yellowish stains. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It had been raining lately. Maybe they fell on the floor and got dirty. Until three days later. I smelled the same odor on another freshly washed pair. This time, it was stronger. I immediately asked my roommates. They shook their heads and said they hadn’t touched my stuff. To figure out where the smell was coming from, I went for a full medical checkup. The doctor told me everything was normal. Then, I switched underwear brands. But it was strange. As long as the underwear hung on the balcony overnight, there was a high chance it would have that smell. I realized a terrifying fact. The problem wasn’t the underwear. It was the balcony! A pervert might have gotten into our dorm! 2 I rushed to tell my roommates about this discovery. “A pervert might be targeting our dorm. Recently, my underwear always…” Before I could finish, Sarah cut me off impatiently. “Lily, you should see a therapist. Last time you said we touched your underwear, now you’re making up a pervert. What? Does your underwear have a special magnet for perverts?” She suddenly covered her mouth. “Do you… have that kind of disease? I heard some dirty diseases have a weird smell…” As soon as she said that, the other two roommates leaned back in unison. As if I were a virus. I was shaking with anger. “Sarah, did you brush your teeth with a toilet brush this morning? Your mouth stinks.” “Oh, hit a nerve?” Sarah flipped her newly permed hair, smiling maliciously. “Wearing those sl***y panties all day, who knows who you’re showing them to? We’re decent people. If you’re dirty, don’t drag us down.” As soon as she said this, the others shrank back again. The dorm leader, Emily, hesitated and said, “Lily, maybe you should move out first? My mom said that kind of disease can be transmitted through clothing contact…” Seeing someone agree, Sarah became even more smug. She picked up a bottle of disinfectant from the table. “Here, let me help you disinfect!” The pungent liquid splashed onto my face. Soaking me. Amidst the screams of my roommates, I grabbed Sarah by her hair and dragged her to the bathroom. “Lily, let go of me! Are you crazy?” Sarah’s screams echoed in the dorm. I ignored her, turning on the faucet with one hand. I aimed the showerhead at her face. “Returning the favor. Let me help you wash that filthy mouth.” I sneered, adjusting the water flow. “And wash away the water in your brain while I’m at it.” “Help… glub… me!” Emily wanted to come forward to stop me. But was frozen in place by my glare. “Do you want a wash too?” I didn’t let go until Sarah’s hair was plastered to her face and mascara created two black rivers under her eyes. She slumped on the floor, crying. “Boo hoo…” 3 I had just cleaned myself up. The smell of disinfectant hadn’t even dissipated when my phone vibrated. It was a text from our advisor, Mr. Lee. [Lily, come to my office immediately.] I looked up and met Sarah’s triumphant gaze. Her lips were curled high, phone in hand. Obviously, she had just snitched. Unbelievable! She splashed me first, couldn’t win the fight, so she went to tell on me? I sneered, grabbed my jacket, and walked out. Sarah added sarcastically behind me, “Someone better not cry later~” I pushed open the office door. As soon as Mr. Lee saw me, his face darkened, his voice sharp and piercing. “Lily, you’ve got some nerve! Daring to beat up a classmate in the dorm?” I took a deep breath. Trying to keep my voice calm. “Mr. Lee, Sarah started it. She threw disinfectant on me.” “Ha!” He scoffed, eyes full of contempt. “Sarah is a scholarship student, an excellent student. Would she do such a thing?” “Look at you, built like an ox. Could she have started it? If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” Being strong is a sin? I gritted my teeth. “Mr. Lee, you’re judging a book by its cover.” “Don’t give me that attitude!” He slammed the desk. “Sarah told me everything. You love to stir up trouble in the dorm. Write a 5,000-word apology letter immediately and apologize to Sarah publicly tomorrow, or I’ll give you a major demerit!” I laughed in anger. “Mr. Lee, is this how you act as a teacher?” His face turned ashen. “You dare question me? Fine, I was going to save you some face, but it seems unnecessary!” “Sarah told me all about your nasty business. A girl like you, how can you be so shameless…” I interrupted him. “Does Dean Zhang know about this?” Mr. Lee froze, his face even uglier. “Don’t… don’t use the Dean to pressure me! I’m telling you, not even God can save you!” I took out my phone and dialed Dean Zhang’s number right in front of him. Mr. Lee’s face changed colors. Finally, he squeezed out a twisted smile. “Act, keep acting! I’ve been teaching for twenty years, and I’ve never seen a student as fake as you!” “Likewise.” I smiled. “It’s also my first time seeing such a ‘fair’ teacher like you.” “You!” His fingers trembled with rage. Just then, a cold automated voice came from the phone. [Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable…] Mr. Lee grinned triumphantly. “Dean Zhang went to the provincial capital for a meeting, the whole department knows!” He shook his head smugly. “What? Were you going to say Dean Zhang is your dad?” “Dean Zhang isn’t my dad.” I put away my phone. “But he certainly wants to be a son to my dad.” Mr. Lee’s expression stiffened. He didn’t seem to understand what I meant. I couldn’t be bothered to explain. I looked down and sent a text to my dad. [Dad, hold off on that donation to the school.] After sending it, I turned and left. Mr. Lee’s roar came from behind. “Lily! What is this attitude?! 50,000-word apology! If you don’t finish it, don’t think about graduating! Bring your parents to school tomorrow!!” Psycho! I rolled my eyes internally. I slammed the door without looking back. 4 As soon as I reached the dorm door, I heard Sarah’s triumphant voice. “Mr. Lee just texted me. Lily is definitely getting a demerit this time! Maybe even expelled.” “Sarah, you have such a good relationship with Mr. Lee…” Emily’s voice lowered. “Um… about that grad school recommendation I mentioned…” “Oh, don’t worry. Isn’t that just a matter of a few words?” So that’s it! Last semester, my GPA was 0.3 points higher than Sarah’s, yet the scholarship went to her. I won first place in the speech contest, but she represented the school in the competition. The things I didn’t understand before. Now they all had an explanation. But right now, I had more important things to do. I had to find that pervert quickly. I’ve had enough of wearing disposable underwear every day! I opened a shopping app. An item suddenly caught my eye. [Colorless, Odorless Concentrated Capsaicin, Home Defense Essential!] I clicked on the details page. The description read boldly: [Extracted from Indian Ghost Peppers, effective in 10 seconds, lasts for 48 hours!] This looks promising. I opened the chat with customer service. [Are you sure it’s spicy enough?] Customer service replied instantly. [Rest assured, dear~ Our capsaicin purity is up to 99%~ It can make an elephant cry!] Perfect. I placed the order immediately. In the notes section, I wrote in bold: [Urgent! Must be discreet packaging!]

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I got drunk and texted my ex-boyfriend. [Unblock me! Right now!] He started typing… [How many burner numbers do you have…] A moment later, a WeChat notification popped up. VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [Drunk again?] The alcohol gave me courage. I hesitated for only a few seconds. Just as I hit send, an arm reached around my shoulder. A glass clinked against mine. My eyes traveled up a muscular arm to a handsome face. The stranger leaned in, whispering in my ear. His messy hair tickled my cheek. I completely missed the incoming messages… VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [Am I your favorite drinking game? You only want me when you’re wasted?] VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [I was your boyfriend, not your call boy.] … VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [The usual spot? I’m coming to get you.] … VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [?] VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [Answer me!] VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [Sarah, if you dare kiss some random guy, don’t ever text me again!] VIP Contact (Do Not Answer): [Stay right there! I’m almost there!] 1 I was squatting in a dark corner outside the bar. Fifteen minutes ago, I texted my cousin to come pick me up. I was dozing off. “You are literally the bane of my existence.” I looked up. My cousin, Leo, stared down at me with pure exasperation. I grinned stupidly at him. He rolled his eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck, then bent down and poked my forehead. “Why didn’t you harass your ex this time?” I swatted his hand away, remembering my failed attempt to flirt with Liam. I pouted. “He ignored me!” Leo extended a hand to help me up. His grin was evil. “So, is it finally over for real this time?” I wanted to curse him out, but then I saw a blurry figure standing behind him. I used Leo to pull myself up, then shoved him aside. Leo stumbled. “Are you trying to kill me, Sarah?” I moved toward the figure. I looked left, right, and then reached out to touch his face. I completely ignored Liam’s dark expression. Liam grabbed my wandering hand. Behind me, Leo laughed. “Well, well, look who it is.” I covered Liam’s mouth with my hand. “Shh.” I tried to drag Liam away, but my legs were jelly. He caught me by the waist before I could faceplant. “Where are we going? My place?” Leo asked. “No,” I snapped, annoyed by his voice. “Go home.” I turned to Liam. “Piggyback. Now.” Liam frowned. He looked at me, then at Leo, then back at me. Resigned, he crouched down in front of me. We walked away from the bar street. I buried my face in Liam’s neck. “Why didn’t you text me back?” He turned his head slightly. I couldn’t see his face. His voice was muffled. “I did. You were probably too busy kissing some guy.” I struggled to reach my phone in my pocket. “Stop moving!” he ordered. I pouted and tightened my arms around his neck. “If I was kissing a guy, I wouldn’t be looking for you.” Liam turned his head fully. Our noses touched. He scoffed. His warm breath brushed my cheek. “That guy was pretty generous with his wallet.” Who? Leo? Yeah, he has a sharp tongue, but he’s always spoiled me. “Yeah, he’s always been generous.” Liam laughed bitterly. “Sarah, you really have no heart.” 2 Messy room. Tangled limbs. I pushed a heavy arm off me. I opened my eyes to see Liam sleeping. Without thinking, I traced the line of his brow. He twitched, then instinctively snuggled closer into my embrace. I froze. Then, I carefully slid out of bed. My hand had just touched the doorknob when— “Leaving without a word again?” I didn’t feel embarrassed at being caught. I turned and leaned against the door, watching him. Liam propped himself up on one arm. The sheet fell, revealing his chest. My eyes darkened. “Do you want me to tuck you in?” “We aren’t in that kind of relationship anymore.” He stared at me intensely. I didn’t look away. I smiled. His hair was a mess. His voice was lazy, morning-rough. “So what are we?” I raised an eyebrow. I didn’t want to answer. I turned the handle to escape. Liam was across the room in a second. He slammed the door shut with one hand, trapping me. He caged me in his arms. “Even a call boy gets paid. I get nothing?” His voice vibrated above my head. I thought for a moment, then stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. The touch lasted a second. Liam’s cool hand wrapped around my neck. He kissed me, stealing my breath. His desperate gasps filled the small space. “Sarah, this is toxic. No couple breaks up and keeps sleeping together like this.” His eyes were pleading. I smirked. “I think it’s working out fine. If you think it’s toxic, don’t unblock me next time.” Liam watched helplessly as I pried his fingers off one by one. I said each word clearly. “I used to think you were the only one for me, too.” He stood frozen. I left without looking back. Leo was waiting by the car, arms crossed. He took my bag as I walked to the passenger side. “Why torture yourself?” I looked at him over the hood of the car. I laughed coldly. “I can’t handle his mother. Marrying into that family would be hell.” Leo frowned but said nothing. My hand paused on the door handle. I met Liam’s gaze across the parking lot. 3 I never thought I’d be living in a cliché romance novel. The elegant woman in front of me told me… My boyfriend, the one working part-time jobs, was the heir to the massive Pei Corporation. She didn’t say much else. But her eyes said everything. Liam came home from work and collapsed into my arms. “So tired.” I stroked his hair. “Liam, are you hiding something from me?” I felt him stiffen. “Yes. I haven’t told you about my family.” I bit my lip, tracing the shell of his ear. “I don’t think secrets are inherently bad in a relationship. I allow you your secrets.” Liam looked up. Seeing I wasn’t angry, he relaxed. “I’m sorry. I hate that life. That’s why I never brought it up.” Seeing him so careful broke my heart. But the image of his mother’s condescending face flashed in my mind. I looked away, forcing a smile. “I never thought the Prince and Cinderella story was for me. And there are some decisions I don’t want to make after your mother throws a check in my face.” Liam’s voice trembled. “You’re breaking up with me?” I nodded. He grabbed my hand tightly. “No. Don’t break up with me.” Tears fell from his eyes without warning. “It’s my fault…” I shook my head, interrupting him. “It’s not your fault.” I wiped his tears. We looked at each other in silence. “You know what? The way your mother looked at me… it was humiliating.” “I’ll explain to her.” I buried my face in his chest. His heart was beating so fast. The pain in my own chest tried to sway my decision. Liam wrapped his arms around my waist, holding on for dear life. “Explain what? That I’m not a gold digger? For a second, I wished I was. Then I could happily take the check and leave.” He kissed the top of my head. “Don’t say that. This is all because of me.” “But my upbringing, my life, and… my love for you, won’t let me do that.” I felt him shaking. I pulled away. He tried to grab my hand, but missed. I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. “Liam, I’m not leaving because you hid things from me. It’s the gap between us. I don’t have the courage to face your family with you. I don’t want to compromise myself. I don’t want a marriage full of war. I love you, but I don’t want to lose myself.” Our breakup was dignified. I remember the last time I saw him. His mother came with a fleet of cars to take him away. I stood in the crowd. Surrounded by whispers of awe and hidden mockery aimed at me. 4 The termination letter slammed onto the desk. My boss, Mr. Wang, pushed up his glasses. “They said our aesthetic is outdated. Doesn’t fit their ‘high-end’ positioning.” The Pei Corporation logo hurt my eyes. I pushed the file back, smiling carelessly. “Got it. Good thing I’m working on that streetwear project anyway.” The computer clock read 17:45. Mojito Bar: Buy one get one free Long Island Iced Teas after 8 PM. Three drinks down. Leo’s trench coat settled over my shoulders, smelling of the night air. He glanced at the bar. “Drinking this fast? You want a hole in your stomach?” I downed the rest of my glass. “You know how Liam handled guys who bullied me in school? He cornered them in the equipment room and beat them with a badminton racket for thirty minutes.” I swirled the ice in my empty glass. Leo snatched the glass away. He wiped a drop of alcohol from my lip with a wet wipe, rough as always. “So his mom beats your company, and you hide here abusing yourself?” Leo pointed to a booth nearby. “See that guy in the silver suit? Every time I pick you up, he’s there. Guess who pays him to watch you?” I pulled Leo’s coat off and threw it on the chair. “Let him watch.” My phone lit up on the bar. The lock screen was Liam’s new profile picture. Our three-legged orange cat. I laughed silently. I dragged his number into the block list. The red ‘Blocked’ notification popped up. “Who are you actually punishing?” Leo asked. Just as the fourth drink arrived, a commotion started at the next table. A guy with bleached hair walked up to me. “Miss, can I buy you a drink?” Before I could speak, Leo put his arm around me. “She’s taken.” The guy didn’t leave. He set his drink down on the bar. “Just making friends. No harm, right?” A familiar voice cut through the noise from the shadows. “Yes, harm.” Liam appeared out of nowhere. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sweat on his forehead. He shoved the guy aside and stood in front of me. He radiated danger. “She’s my girlfriend.” The guy looked Liam up and down and sneered. “Girlfriend? Looks like she has more than one protector tonight.”

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1 Ten years together, and for the third time, my lawyer girlfriend Aria canceled our city hall appointment for a “critical case.” Minutes later, I saw her childhood friend Leo post a photo of their marriage certificate, captioned: “After all this time, it was always you.” As confused messages poured in, I replied publicly: “Don’t forget to invite me to the baby shower. I’ll chip in five grand.” Instantly, his post disappeared. Aria called, furious: “Leo posted that by mistake. He’s never been married before—I was just helping him as his lawyer. It’s just a piece of paper, Alex. You’re blowing this up for no reason.” She demanded I apologize, promising we’d get our license once Leo “healed from his divorce.” She didn’t realize this was her 67th empty promise to me—and the last. I hung up, resigned from my job, and decided to disappear from the life we were supposed to build. … She called back. A dozen times. I ignored every one. Finally, a text message buzzed through, dripping with fury: “Alex, have you lost your mind? How dare you hang up on me? You’re the one who screwed up, and you’re acting like you have the moral high ground?” “You have five minutes to post that apology, or we’re through.” Ten years together. I’d heard that threat a hundred times. And every time, I was the one to cave, to smooth things over, to beg for forgiveness. This was the first time I’d ever just hung up. When I didn’t respond, she went to her social media and started her usual countdown. It was a rule she’d made years ago: three days of silence meant we were officially over. My devotion had made her fearless. Every argument, every disagreement, ended with her posting that countdown, a public clock ticking down on my anxiety, pressuring me to fold. For ten years, it had been her perfect weapon. And every time, just before the clock ran out, I’d break. But not this time. I was exhausted. I was done being her fool. Shortly after her countdown post went up, Leo posted something too, tagging me specifically. “Just a little prank with Aria that accidentally went public. I didn’t realize Alex would take it so hard. I guess I’ll have to be more careful what I say around him from now on. Wouldn’t want him to get upset again.” Aria, who rarely ever glanced at her feed, was the first to like it. She even commented: “That’s his problem, Leo, don’t you dare blame yourself. And why should it be private? If you want to post something, you post it.” “His problem” was me, obviously. Our so-called friends, the ones who relied on Aria for legal work, all chimed in with likes and supportive comments. “Wow, Alex is being so petty. Leo, don’t let a guy like that get you down.” “No wonder Aria won’t marry him. I’d hesitate too if he were that insecure.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. She would bend over backward to protect Leo from the slightest discomfort, to defend his name. But for me, her boyfriend of a decade, there was only neglect and indifference. Leo could sneeze, and she would drop everything, including our plans to get married. If I dared to complain, she’d explode, accusing me of disrespecting her freedom, of being small-minded. And now, when I finally chose to let go and congratulate them, she was the one hurling accusations, using her countdown to force me into an apology. The truth was, it was never about right or wrong. The scales of her love had tipped long ago. “Sir,” the clerk said, her voice soft with pity, “the woman whose ID you’ve provided is already legally married. Would you… like to submit a different application?” I took the ID from her and managed a weak smile. “Maybe I should.” The young couple behind me cheered quietly at my withdrawal. Of course, it was the most popular wedding date of the year, and getting an appointment at City Hall was nearly impossible. I had shown up at dawn just to get a spot in line. Now, I looked at the application form in my hands—the 67th one I’d filled out, for the 67th chance I’d given her—and without a second thought, I ripped it to shreds and dropped it in the trash. Every time, it was the same. I’d arrive early, filled with hope, watching the happy couples go in and out, waiting for her. And every time, just minutes before our appointment, she would call. An emergency at the firm. When I’d question it, she’d use her clients as a shield. “Alex, my clients’ lives are on the line! Are you seriously asking me to abandon them for a piece of paper? How can you be so selfish?” She always said it with such righteous indignation, as if I were the villain. What she didn’t know was that every time she ditched me for Leo, he’d send me a little text, a little jab to twist the knife. “Aria’s cooking is amazing. Bet you’ve never had it, have you?” “I mentioned I was tired of walking today, so Aria just bought me a brand new luxury car. You’re still taking the subway, right?” And now, she’d gone and gotten a marriage license with him. It was time for our relationship to finally end. 2 As I stepped out of City Hall, I saw the notification on my phone. My resignation request had been rejected. HR informed me that Aria hadn’t been in the office for days and couldn’t approve it. They gave me an address and told me to find her myself. Gritting my teeth, I went. I just wanted this to be over. The address was a high-end pool hall. A place Leo loved. Aria, the woman who lived and breathed for her work, had apparently been skipping the office for days to hang out with him. I found them at a table in the back. Leo was leaning over her, his body pressed against hers, “teaching” her how to shoot. The moment he saw me, a smirk played on his lips. A few of our colleagues from the firm, Leo’s little sycophants, sauntered over, nudging each other. “Well, well, look who’s here for our dear Ms. Aria.” “Told you. That three-day countdown wouldn’t even last one. He’s already back to groveling.” “Damn, Aria’s got him wrapped around her finger. One word and he comes running.” “Alright, alright, pay up. You all lost the bet.” I felt a familiar tightening in my jaw. I’d heard their jeers a thousand times before. But today, it grated on me like never before. “I’m not here to make up.” My words were met with a burst of laughter. “Sure, Alex. We all know you’re Aria’s ultimate lapdog. You couldn’t leave if you tried.” Ignoring them, I walked straight to her and held out the papers. “Aria. Sign these.” She reached for the file, but Leo nudged her knee with his own. “Focus on the game,” he murmured. Instantly, she dropped the file. She reached into Leo’s pocket, pulled out her personal seal—a custom stamp she used for official documents—and tossed it to me. “Just stamp it yourself. And in the future, don’t come here and interrupt my lessons with Leo.” Aria was fiercely private. Her safe was off-limits. She’d shield her phone’s PIN from my view. And her personal seal? She guarded it like a state secret. Yet here she was, letting Leo carry it in his pocket. She was so wrapped up in her “date” that she couldn’t even be bothered to look at a company document. I clutched the stamped resignation form, my knuckles white. My heart felt like a cavern, hollow and cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. “Leo’s a bit busy these days. You can handle his caseload for him.” She tossed a thick stack of files onto a nearby table. Each one had nothing but a title scrawled on the cover. I couldn’t even count how many times she’d made me do Leo’s work. Every time I completed a case, he took the credit. But if I made a single mistake under the crushing workload, the blame was all mine. There were times I’d lost my temper, refused to do it. She’d accuse me of letting her down, of not caring about her or the firm. She’d threaten to do it all herself, and my concern for her, my desire to ease her burden, always led me back to compromise. All that sacrifice had earned me was her contempt, her casual dismissal, her entitlement to my labor. But I was free now. The firm was no longer my problem. “No. I’ve already resi—” “Aria,” Leo’s voice cut in, thick with feigned hurt. “It’s okay. If Alex doesn’t want to do it, I can manage.” Aria’s expression immediately softened with pity for him. “You just went through a divorce. How can you be expected to work when you’re feeling down? Don’t be silly. Go have fun.” She turned back to me, her voice turning to ice. “Don’t you get it? Your little stunt on social media already upset Leo. This is your chance to make up for it, and you’re refusing? Keep this up, and in three days, you could be on your knees begging, and I still wouldn’t take you back.” I almost laughed. My mother had died unexpectedly. I was so wracked with grief I’d fainted multiple times. All Aria had said then was, “When you’re done crying, be at the office on time. There’s work to be done.” But Leo? His divorce was two years ago, and he was still using it as an excuse to skip work. “Fine by me. We don’t have to get back together.” I spun on my heel and walked away. The shock on Aria’s face was unmistakable. Our colleagues were stunned. “Is he… actually leaving?” Leo just chuckled. “Come on, Alex. No need to play hard to get. If you don’t want to do the work, just say so.” At his words, the tension in Aria’s face melted away, replaced by her usual confident smirk. Her tone softened. “Alright, Alex. I know I’ve been neglecting you lately. Be a good boy and finish Leo’s work, and in three days, I promise, we’ll go get our license. How does that sound?” The same empty promises. The same carrot dangled in front of my face. But this time, I had no appetite for it. I didn’t answer. I just kept walking. Behind me, the taunts started up again. “What a show. Just you wait. By tomorrow, he’ll be back, begging for another chance.” A wicked thought sparked in my mind. I wanted to see the looks on their faces when they lost their little bet for good. I let out a short, sharp laugh and glanced back at them over my shoulder. “Yeah? Don’t hold your breath.” 3 With my resignation finalized, I went straight to my best friend’s firm. In the legal world, a lawyer’s reputation follows them, not the firm they work for. As a top-tier litigator, my friend Mark was so thrilled to have me that he practically offered to shine my shoes. He gave me a salary ten times what Aria had paid me and threw in a villa as a signing bonus. Finally, I could move out of that dilapidated apartment. I’d lost track of how many clients had looked surprised when they found out where I lived. A “star lawyer” in a place like that. I always brushed it off, saying I was a simple guy who didn’t care about material things. The truth was, I’d willingly accepted a junior-level salary so Aria’s firm could grow. In the beginning, she was grateful. Over time, it became an expectation. One winter, the heating broke. When I asked Aria for some money to replace it, she called me extravagant, accused me of changing, of only being after her money. Yet for Leo, she’d buy a mansion on a whim. Even his dog’s house had central heating. On moving day, I ran into Aria and Leo. They were with her parents, the four of them enjoying a cozy family dinner at a fancy restaurant. I froze. A memory flashed in my mind: the first time I met her parents. I had arrived with armfuls of expensive gifts. They served me a table full of leftovers. I awkwardly suggested we all go out to eat, my treat. They scoffed, saying I didn’t earn much but had already picked up wasteful habits. In the end, I cooked a full meal for everyone. As soon as I set the food down, Aria’s mother slammed her chopsticks on the table, complaining my food was too salty. “Only peasants who do manual labor eat this salty,” she’d sneered. “I guess that makes sense, coming from a peasant’s son.” The gifts I brought them? I later saw the building’s janitor carrying them all home. Compared to this happy little family scene, I felt like a complete clown. Aria’s parents were fawning over Leo, piling food onto his plate. “Leo, you and our Aria are just perfect for each other,” her mother cooed. “If that other woman hadn’t tricked you back then, you two would never have missed your chance. I think the timing is perfect now. You two should just get together.” Her father chimed in, “Exactly! Leo landed several huge clients for Aria the moment he joined the firm. His future is limitless. Not like that useless Alex. All he’s good for is cooking and cleaning. Completely worthless.” Rage trembled through my body. I was the one who landed those clients. Aria had just credited them to Leo’s name. The money I brought in single-handedly kept that firm afloat. But Aria had never once praised me. Instead, she constantly belittled me, saying it was only because of the platform her firm gave me that I had any work at all. And now, faced with her parents’ slander, she said nothing to defend me. She just sighed. “Well, we’ve been together for so long. I guess I’ll just make do.” My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. All these years, to her, I was just someone to “make do” with. Her mother, however, was not satisfied. “Aria, let me tell you, that Alex is bad luck. Cursed. Just look at how his parents died so young. Marrying him will bring you nothing but misery.” Aria didn’t respond, but tears were already streaming down my face. My parents died because of hers. Years ago, Aria’s parents were in a car crash and needed massive blood transfusions. My parents were a match. They gave and gave, but it wasn’t enough. Aria was a wreck, sobbing uncontrollably. Knowing how much I loved her, my parents went back, behind my back, and gave more, pushing their bodies past the absolute limit. Aria’s parents were saved. Mine were gone. For a while, her family felt a sliver of guilt. They promised to make it up to me, to take care of me. That compensation never came. Instead, I became the “cursed” one they spoke of with disdain. I couldn’t stand to listen to another word. I turned to leave. 4 But Leo spotted me. “Well, look who it is. If it isn’t Alex.” The three of them turned to look. The moment she saw me, Aria instinctively pulled her hand away from Leo’s grasp. “Alex? What are you doing here?” Leo spoke, his tone deceptively casual. “Wow, Aria, he’s really dedicated. Everywhere you go, he just happens to show up. You don’t think he put a tracker on you, do you?” He then turned to me, a picture of innocence. “Oh, hey Alex, don’t get the wrong idea. Aria and I are just like family. Her parents are like my own. We get together like this all the time. If it bothers you, I can leave right now.” “Don’t you dare,” Aria snapped, grabbing his arm. She glared at me, her eyes spitting fire. “Alex, there’s a mountain of work at the office, and you’re here stalking me? Have you lost your mind?” “Are you ever going to stop being so paranoid? Get back to the firm right now. And on your way, stop by HR and accept your penalty. You’re forfeiting your pay for today and your bonus for the month.” Her parents jumped in to support her. “Aria, why do you even keep a parasite like him around? Just fire him. You’re too soft. How do you expect a star employee like Leo to feel valued when you tolerate this kind of behavior?” Leo, playing the part of the magnanimous hero, added, “It’s really no big deal. I don’t mind cleaning up Alex’s messes. But Alex, you’re not getting any younger. What will you do if you lose this job? Just apologize to Aria. Stop being so stubborn.” Her parents praised him for his kindness and maturity. Aria’s gaze on me grew colder, more disgusted. “What are you still standing there for? Get back to work. And let me tell you, if I don’t see you at your desk by the end of the day, then when the countdown ends tonight, don’t even bother trying to make up. We’ll be over for good.” With that, she and her “family” paid the bill and left. Later that evening, just before closing time, Aria made a point of swinging by the office. She saw my desk was empty. I really hadn’t come back. Furious, she stormed out and went straight to a bar, deliberately having a colleague “casually” leak her location to me. I saw the messages. I ignored them all. Eleven o’clock. The day was almost over. Aria had downed a stomachful of booze, but the agitation in her heart refused to settle. She kept glancing at the door to their private room, her body tensing every time it opened. Many people came and went. None of them were me. Her phone was silent, as if it were broken. She even had her assistant check it. When confirmed it was working perfectly, her mood sank to a new low. She was so used to me catering to her every whim. This sudden drop-off was a shock to her system. She looked at her phone’s lock screen—a photo of us. It was a candid shot she’d taken right after our first kiss. A faint smile touched her lips. In the end, she couldn’t resist. She sent me a text. “Alex, don’t say I didn’t warn you. The three days are almost up.” The message was met with deafening silence. Aria’s brow furrowed. The noisy room seemed to quiet down around her, chilled by the cold aura she was emitting. The air grew thick, and everyone’s breathing became shallow, careful. Suddenly, the door to the room swung open. The sound made everyone look up. A colleague burst in, breathless and beaming. “He’s here, Ms. Aria! He’s downstairs!” “And he’s all dressed up! He looks incredible. You have to go see!” The tension in Aria’s face instantly dissolved. She leaned back against the sofa, a triumphant, arrogant smile spreading across her face. “Go tell him he’s late,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “It’s one minute past midnight. Getting back together won’t be that easy.”

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