I bought $1 million worth of gold jewelry for my wedding from a well-known downtown jeweler. As the wedding approached, my order still hadn’t arrived. When I went to collect it, the saleswoman—Lily—told me the price of gold had risen and I had to pay the difference. “Gold is up 98pergram.Foryour1,314grams,that’s128,772. Let’s call it $130,000,” she said, showing me her calculator. I was stunned. “I paid in full two weeks ago. You offered delivery, that’s why I left it here. This is extortion.” Lily looked at me dismissively. “We’ve been in business ten years. We only sell real gold. Keep accusing us and I’ll sue you for slander.” Her words reminded me: their store’s ten-year lease had just expired. I called their boss. “Starting this year, rent is up 50%. Pay it or leave.” “Why?” he asked. “Thank your wonderful employee,” I replied, and hung up. .. I dangled my phone in front of Lily. “If I don’t walk out of here with my gold today, this store will be closing its doors very soon.” Lily, however, remained unfazed. “Don’t try to intimidate me. I wasn’t born yesterday,” she scoffed. “You’re not getting a single piece of that gold until you pay up. Not one cent less than a hundred and thirty thousand.” I was done arguing. Some people only learn a lesson when it hits them square in the face. “Fine,” I said. “I don’t want the gold anymore. Give me a refund.” There were plenty of other jewelers in the city. I had only chosen this one because the owner was a tenant of my family’s. Now, I’d rather give my business to a complete stranger than let this woman extort a single penny from me. Lily’s expression didn’t waver. In fact, a smirk played on her lips. “All sales are final. That’s the industry standard. However, given the nature of gold, we can buy it back from you at the scrap gold price.” She tapped away at her calculator again. “The current market price is nine hundred and forty-six dollars per gram. Our buyback price includes a hundred-dollar-per-gram depreciation fee. So, for 1,314 grams, that comes to one million, one hundred and eleven thousand, six hundred and forty-four dollars. Let’s just call it one point one one million.” I laughed, a harsh, incredulous sound. “I paid over one point three five million for this jewelry. Now you’re telling me I have to pay an extra hundred and thirty thousand to pick it up, or lose a quarter of a million on a refund? You run a fine business here.” “We’re here to make a profit, not run a charity,” Lily said, her confidence unwavering. “So, Miss Vance, will you be taking the gold or the refund?” She was so certain I would just swallow this bitter pill. But I’ve always been one to stand my ground. If she wanted a fight, she would get one. I walked out of the jewelry store and into the department store next door. For ten dollars, I bought a megaphone. Then I stood right outside her shop and started shouting. “This jewelry store, Gold & Co., is ripping off its customers! Two weeks ago, I bought over a million dollars’ worth of gold from them, and now they won’t let me have it! Everyone, be warned! Don’t get scammed by this place!” My public announcement quickly drew a crowd. “Is that for real? A big store like this would pull such a stunt?” “The bigger the store, the shadier the business. Gold prices are skyrocketing right now. That’s a lot of money to be made.” “Good to know. I’ll be sure to avoid this place from now on.” Customers inside the store, fearing they’d be the next victims, started to leave. Lily couldn’t stop them. She shot me a look of pure hatred. I glared right back. “I’ll be out here every single day until you give me my money back. Let’s see who gives in first.” To my surprise, she called the police, accusing me of disturbing the peace. The sound of sirens only drew a larger crowd. Lily was the first to speak to the officers, playing the victim. “It’s her. She’s been standing outside our store with a megaphone, slandering our business and disrupting our operations.” I calmly pulled out the receipt from my purchase two weeks ago. “Officer, this store took my money but refuses to give me my gold. When I came to claim it, they demanded an additional one hundred and thirty thousand dollars due to the price increase. This is extortion.” As the officer took my receipt to question Lily, she suddenly shouted, “That receipt is a fake! She’s the one trying to extort us!” She then produced a receipt from behind the counter and handed it to the police. “This is our official receipt. Each one has a security watermark. Hers doesn’t. It’s a forgery.” The officer compared the two receipts and then frowned at me. “Miss Vance, this receipt you’ve provided appears to be counterfeit.” “Impossible!” I snatched the receipts and examined them closely. The one Lily provided had a small, gold ingot watermark in the top right corner. Mine did not. It all clicked into place. This was a setup from the very beginning. No wonder she was so bold as to call the police. “Officer, I demand to see the security footage,” I said, my voice firm. “Receipts can be faked, but the cameras don’t lie. The footage will show me selecting the jewelry, paying for it, and her telling me about the home delivery service.” A smug smile flickered across Lily’s face. “Our security system malfunctioned three days ago. A short circuit. Everyone knows about it.” She turned to the police. “Officer, this woman has forged a receipt in an attempt to defraud our store. I demand you take her into custody for investigation.” The crowd’s sentiment turned against me. “So she was the one crying wolf all along!” “These scammers are getting bolder and bolder.” “She looks like such a sweet girl, too. They should throw the book at her.” Two officers approached me with handcuffs. “Chloe Vance, you are under suspicion of forgery and attempted extortion. Please come with us to the station.” I held up my phone. “I’m not a scammer! I have the bank transaction record showing the transfer to the store’s owner. You can verify it.” Just then, a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb, and the store owner, a man named Mr. Goldsmith, stepped out. “It’s true,” he announced. “I did receive a transfer of one point three five million dollars from Miss Vance.” A wave of relief washed over me. For all his gaudy taste in names, he seemed like a reasonable man. He had called me a few days ago about the expired lease. The rent in the area had doubled, and he had pleaded poverty, begging me not to raise his. I figured this whole mess was just a case of poor management. If he fired this employee and apologized, I would let it slide. But then, he added, “However, that money was a loan repayment. It had nothing to do with a gold purchase.” A triumphant smile spread across Lily’s face. She sidled up to Mr. Goldsmith, her voice a purr. “Mr. Goldsmith, thank goodness you’re here. I was about to be falsely accused.” He gave her rear a familiar pat. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one will bully my employees.” I finally saw the whole picture. They were in on it together. No wonder Lily was so audacious. She had her boss backing her up. Mr. Goldsmith turned to me, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I’m a businessman, Miss Vance. I believe in harmony and prosperity. If you admit your mistake now and apologize to my employee, I’m willing to let this go. Otherwise, you’ll have to take a trip downtown.” “You two are in cahoots, you stole my money, and you want me to apologize? You must be dreaming,” I shot back. The smile vanished from his face. “If you accuse us of being in cahoots without any proof, I’ll have to sue you for defamation.” Lily chimed in, her voice dripping with mock pity. “Miss Vance, your receipt is a fake, our cameras are broken, and now both my boss and I can testify that your transfer was a loan repayment. You have no evidence, no witnesses. If you apologize nicely now, maybe I’ll forgive you.” I looked at the two of them and let out a disdainful laugh. “Who says I have no evidence? I’m about to expose your little scheme right now.” I dialed my best friend and asked her to send me the video of me trying on wedding dresses and picking out the jewelry. It was her idea to document such an important day. She had brought a hidden camera and recorded everything, from the moment I walked into the store to the final payment. Furious on my behalf, she sent the video immediately. I played it for the police and the crowd to see. “You can have this video authenticated. Let’s see who’s really lying here.” Mr. Goldsmith and Lily froze. They had never imagined I would have a recording of the entire transaction. Faced with irrefutable proof, Mr. Goldsmith realized that pursuing the matter would only hurt him. He slapped his forehead in a theatrical display of sudden realization. “Oh, my memory! The person who owed me money was also named Vance, but a different spelling. When I saw the transfer, I just assumed it was from her.” He then turned to me with a practiced, fake smile. “Miss Vance, this has all been a terrible misunderstanding. I’ll have someone deliver your gold to you right away.” “No, thank you,” I said coldly. “I want a full refund. Now.” I had lost all trust in him. This was for my wedding, a symbol of good fortune and happiness. I wouldn’t let it be tainted by their dishonesty. “Business is business, Miss Vance,” he said, turning to me and the officers. “All sales are final. If you want a refund, it will have to be at the depreciated buyback price. However, since this was our mistake, I’m willing to cover the depreciation cost myself. But in return, I ask that you drop the matter and not press any charges.” I couldn’t believe it. He was still trying to protect Lily. But he was mistaken. Now, I wasn’t just after Lily. I was after both of them. The officers asked if I would accept this resolution. Pursuing legal action would be time-consuming and costly, and he could drag it out for years. It was uncertain if I would ever see my money again. I decided to take a step back for now and get my money back first. In front of the police, Mr. Goldsmith transferred the full one point three five million dollars back to my account.

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After we married, Alan Shawn developed a system. Before he took a new lover, he’d send me a single number. It was his countdown. The number of months he’d amuse himself with his new conquest. He had a thirst for novelty, and three months was usually his limit. But a year had passed since his last text. The new girl, Minnie, had grown bold, spoiled by his prolonged attention. She had the audacity to show up at our estate, to challenge me. “Do you know what Alan loves about me?” I stroked the Persian cat nestled in my lap, not even bothering to lift my eyes. “He loves that I’m wild,” she sneered. “You’re so rigid, like a porcelain doll. No man wants that.” Her provocations were like water off a duck’s back. I remained unmoved. The next day, I had an old woman delivered to Alan’s corporate headquarters. She was paralyzed, incontinent, and had been for years. “Your secretary, Minnie, tells me you have a taste for the wild,” I announced to the lobby, my voice carrying over the sudden hush. “This woman has been marinating in her own filth for years. Is this wild enough for you, darling?” … The office erupted in a symphony of whispers and stifled laughter. Alan’s face was a mask of thunderous fury. “Get her out of here,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. His security team moved as if divinely ordained, rushing forward. I stepped into their path. “I’m paying her three thousand a day. It seems a waste to send her home so soon, don’t you think?” Alan pulled out his phone and tapped the screen twice. “I’ve sent you thirty million. You’re Aurora Shawn. Stop worrying about petty cash.” A wave of gasps rippled through the onlookers. “God, if I had a man that rich,” someone muttered, “I wouldn’t care if he cheated. He could have a dozen kids on the side, and I’d personally babysit for the mistress.” A cold smile touched my lips. Whenever I showed the slightest displeasure, Alan threw money at the problem. I had always been happy to accept. After all, I’d married him for two things: his fortune and his face, which was, admittedly, not unpleasant to look at. His affairs were his own business, but a child was a line he could not cross. I scanned the crowd, not seeing the face I was looking for. “Where’s Minnie? If she hadn’t enlightened me about your new tastes, I never would have known. I owe her my sincerest thanks.” “Minnie called in sick today,” a voice from the crowd offered. I smiled sweetly. “Then I’ll be back tomorrow to thank her in person.” Alan’s brow furrowed. He seized my wrist and pulled me toward his office. This time, I didn’t resist. In the world of adults, there’s no need to burn every bridge. Poise, grace, and a gentle demeanor—these were among the reasons Alan had chosen me as his wife. Inside his office, the door clicked shut. “Why are you escalating this?” he demanded, his face grim. “Because Minnie is pregnant.” The words came out with a tremor I couldn’t hide. I watched his face, a sour, acidic feeling churning in my gut. Alan froze. Clearly, this was news to him. Instinct took over, and I couldn’t resist a jab. “Your little canary is quite the schemer, isn’t she? Managed to trap you with a child.” He took out his phone again, his thumb moving swiftly across the screen. “I’ll have her terminate it,” he promised, his eyes fixed on me. I pressed him. “How long?” “A week.” “Three days.” “She’s a delicate girl,” he argued, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. “She’ll need time to process it.” In his eyes, I was the easy one, the one who could be soothed with cash and a few soft words. My feelings were an afterthought. Normally, I wouldn’t have pushed him. But this was different. Minnie held a weight in his heart that the others never had. My chest felt tight. I rose and walked toward him, straightening the collar of his suit. A small, pink brooch pinned to his lapel glittered, catching the light like a shard of glass in my eye. He never wore such gaudy things. It was true what they said. Love could change a man. A thought flickered through my mind. Perhaps I, too, could find someone to play with. A distraction to burn off this suffocating negativity. “The longer she waits, the more developed the embryo becomes. It’s more traumatic. I’m thinking of Minnie’s well-being,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “If you can’t do it, I will. Husband.” “Don’t you dare.” His grip on my wrist tightened, a clear threat. I had rarely seen him lose control like this. I wrenched my hand free, my gentle facade crumbling away. “Then handle it. Cleanly. In three days. It’s better for everyone,” I threatened back. “Otherwise, I don’t mind having a little blood on my hands.” Alan stared at me, seeing not the placid, obedient wife he was used to, but a flash of the wild, defiant woman I once was. He had almost forgotten. Years ago, Aurora Sterling had been the most dazzling, dangerous rose in Manhattan’s elite circles. But then, tragedy struck. My mother and brother were gone, and my father handed the family fortune to his illegitimate son, leaving me with nothing. The change in me had been profound. This glimpse of the old me… it was novel. Exciting, even. Alan nodded, conceding. “Fine.” He had rules for his games. His women could be spirited, but on matters of importance, they had to obey. Minnie had crossed a line. It was time to deal with her. I turned and walked out of his office without another word. In the car, the driver asked my destination. “Onyx.” He shot me a surprised look in the rearview mirror. “I’ve seen it on Alan’s credit card statements,” I said, my voice flat. “I know what kind of place it is. Just drive.” We arrived at Onyx. It was quiet in the daytime. A handsome server approached me immediately. “What can I get for you, ma’am?” “A man.” He blinked, then a slick, practiced smile spread across his face. “How about me?” My gaze drifted past him to a figure busy in the background. Even with his head down, wiping a table, I could see the clean, almost boyish line of his jaw. He looked… innocent. I pointed. The server pouted. “Ma’am, he’s just a college kid. He doesn’t know the first thing. You should be with someone experienced. I’ll take good care of you.” “I want him.” I have filth at home. When I come out to play, I want something clean. “Ethan! A client for you.” The young man, Ethan, walked over. He hid the hand holding the cleaning rag behind his back and mumbled a polite, “Ma’am.” He stood there stiffly, like a student being disciplined—all shy, awkward innocence. “Get a bottle of your most expensive wine. I’m buying. It’ll go on your commission.” I held out my black card. Ethan just stared at it, dumbfounded. The first server nudged him. “What are you waiting for? She’s giving you a chance. Take it.” Ethan took the card and scurried off to the bar. I idly picked up a book left on the table. How to Capture a Man’s Heart. Before Ethan could return with the wine, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. Alan. He must have gotten the transaction alert. I declined the call and powered the phone off. A moment later, the driver’s phone rang. He answered it nervously, putting it on speaker. Alan’s voice, cold as ice, filled the car. “Come home. Now.” A strange sense of exhilaration washed over me. “Are you angry?” I purred into the phone. “Worried I might be unfaithful? Does infidelity bother you, Alan?” Silence. The book was open to a chapter on theatrics. A woman should act, it said. Turn one part love into ten. Play the victim, feign devotion. A wicked idea took root. I decided to play the part. “I wasn’t going to do anything reckless,” I began, my voice laced with a carefully constructed sorrow. “This is just… your favorite place. I thought if I came here, I could learn what you like. And maybe… maybe you’d like me a little more.” His tone softened instantly. “Aurora, come home.” I pressed on, weaving a web of half-truths and raw emotion. “No matter how wonderful those other women are… please, don’t forget about me. Promise me you won’t.” In his car across town, Alan’s throat tightened. He drove straight through a red light, his mind reeling. But his license plate, SHAWN 1, was a shield. No one dared to touch him. “Ma’am, your wine.” Ethan’s voice was like a bomb detonation in the quiet car. Over the phone, Alan’s voice sharpened into a command. “You’re a lightweight! Don’t you dare drink!” I lifted the glass of deep red liquid and drained it in one go. The “lightweight” persona was a sham, a calculated weakness I’d adopted years ago so Alan wouldn’t see me as a threat, so I could latch onto him and escape the abyss. In reality, I could drink a cellar dry and still walk a straight line. Alan heard me swallow. “You drank it?” “Mmmhmm.” The book said a state of pleasant intoxication was conducive to romance. I didn’t need romance, but I did need a child. And once I had one, I’d have Alan sterilized. A permanent solution. “Keep an eye on her,” he barked at the driver before hanging up. Ethan handed back my black card, his fingers warm. I slipped it into my purse and settled onto the lounge sofa to wait. Perhaps it was the wine, but looking at Ethan, he seemed particularly appealing. “Are you a virgin?” I asked casually. His eyes widened in shock. He gave a shy, almost imperceptible nod. “Yes.” The door burst open with a violent crash. I slumped back, feigning drunkenness. Alan’s frantic footsteps echoed on the floor as he rushed to my side and swept me into his arms. “I told you not to drink. Is this how the Lady of the Shawn estate should behave?” he chided, his voice tight with frustration. I let the alcohol—real or imagined—loosen my tongue. “I want a child,” I murmured against his chest. “I can give you one. You don’t need Minnie.” He stopped dead in his tracks. To appease his family, Alan would occasionally return to the estate to perform his husbandly duties. But my own broken family had always made me hesitate to bring a child into the world. “We’ll talk about this after I’ve dealt with the Minnie situation.” I didn’t answer, pretending to have drifted off to sleep. Alan brought me back to the estate, tucked me into bed, and left. I immediately put the thirty million he’d given me to work, launching a series of strategic attacks against my father’s company. Under my relentless assault these past few years, his empire was already crumbling. But I wanted more than that. I wanted ruin. I wanted them to know what it felt like to have nothing. The jagged lines on my trading screen mirrored the chaos in my heart. Three days later, Alan returned. He pulled me straight into the bedroom, his lips brushing against my ear. “Let’s make a baby.” He didn’t mention Minnie. I didn’t ask. I simply met his gaze and whispered, “Okay.” He was gentle, impossibly so, as if I were a porcelain doll he feared he might break. But this time, I was different. I was the aggressor, my body winding around his. Minnie was right. No man wants a doll. Alan was both shocked and thrilled. His restraint shattered, and he returned to his usual self—a storm of raw, unbridled passion. Afterward, as I drifted in the hazy space between wakefulness and sleep, he carried me to the bath. His long fingers traced the lines of my face, my eyebrows, the bridge of my nose. The only sounds in the cavernous bathroom were our breathing and the frantic drumming of our hearts. I was too exhausted to even open my eyes, a pliant weight in his arms as he carried me back to bed. But I knew Alan too well. Something was wrong. And the reason was painfully obvious. The child in Minnie’s womb was still alive. He had broken his promise. He didn’t bring it up, so I pretended not to know. We would maintain the final, fragile dignity of our marriage. Every day, I sent Alan the same text. “Are you coming home tonight?” And every day, the reply was the same: “Yes.” There’s truth to the old saying about familiarity breeding affection. Alan, who once despised the smell of cooking, who thought it clung to a person and made them seem cheap, began making me dinner. He even started watching my favorite shows with me, wasting hours of his precious, thousand-dollar-an-hour time. “I want to work at the company,” I said one evening. “Work is exhausting. Why not stay home and be pampered? Isn’t it nice having people wait on you?” He was refusing me. I didn’t argue. I just snuggled closer into his embrace. “You work so hard for our family, darling. Let me give you a gift.” Under his watchful gaze, I went to the bedroom and changed into a piece of lingerie I’d bought. When I returned, Alan’s eyes darkened, a primal hunger flaring within them. But then he stood, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, and pulled me close. “You don’t have to do this.” “I thought… I thought this is what you liked,” I said, my voice small and timid. “I just want you to be happy.” He knew. He knew I was still thinking about what Minnie had said. A complex mix of emotions played across his face. He looked at my feigned innocence, this performance of purity, and his expression softened into something resembling pity. He stroked my cheek gently. “I like you any way you are. As long as it’s you.” He lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. “I’ll set you up with a position tomorrow. You can work, but once you’re pregnant, you’re done.” I pressed a triumphant kiss to his lips and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had won. I was in. Once inside the company, I pushed forward the project designed to annihilate my father’s business. Everyone said it was a suicide mission, a plan that would cost us dearly even in victory. But Alan, like a king so besotted he’d sign away half his kingdom for a smile, signed the papers without a moment’s hesitation. To the outside world, that document was a testament to Alan’s profound love for me. To me, it was the key that unlocked access to all his financial records. I stared at the screen, at the river of money flowing to an account in the United States. And I saw Minnie’s face. Through the glass wall of his office, Alan watched me staring into space and smiled, a fond, indulgent look on his face. His wife might not be good for much, but she was lovely to look at, like a cute little figurine on his desk. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, deeper than simple fatigue. I went to the doctor. The moment I held the positive pregnancy test in my hand, I booked a flight to the United States. I sent Alan a text: “Going to see a friend for a week. Don’t miss me too much.” He replied instantly. “I’ll come with you.” He’d grown accustomed to having me around. My absence felt wrong to him now. Even my not being there during his lunch break today had unsettled him. “No,” I typed back. “It’s a girls’ reunion. No boys allowed.” Reading my message, a strange unease flickered in Alan’s chest. He immediately told his assistant to find out where I was going. But he didn’t know that I had already spoken to her. “I’m planning a surprise for Alan,” I’d said. “If he asks where I’m going, just say Aspen. Don’t say anything else.” “Aspen.” The answer put Alan at ease. At least it wasn’t the United States. He sent one last text: “Be safe.” On the plane, I placed a hand on my stomach. “Mommy’s going to clear the way for you.”

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After my cheating husband, Julian Thorne, came crawling back to the family, I started posting daily online. [How thrilling is cheating, really?] [Is cheating addictive for men?] [When a man cheats, does he feel more guilty towards his wife or his mistress?] I tagged every post with his university. Precision-targeted to his students, colleagues, and even his mistress. Everyone advised me not to make it ugly, to be a magnanimous wife. Only Julian shielded me behind him, saying, “I made a mistake. It’s only right for Claire to vent her emotions.” Until I posted the 99th thread. Julian stormed in like a madman and smashed my laptop. “Claire Sullivan, are you done yet?! I came back! What more do you want?!” “How much torture will satisfy you?” I didn’t answer. I just folded his freshly washed underwear and asked with a smile: “Do you have any more laundry?” 1 Julian froze, his chest heaving violently with rage. His interrogation felt like punching cotton. Seeing he wasn’t speaking, I proceeded to help him take off his suit jacket. “It’s all wrinkled. I’ll go iron it for you.” “Claire!” He stopped me, his voice suppressed with irritation. “What do you want! Can you stop acting crazy!” “Do you know how much your posts are affecting me? I’m human too; I get tired!” My hands paused, breathing quickening. “Are you afraid for yourself, or for Monica?” That name, like a bomb, blew us apart. “Why bring up Monica again?” “I transferred her to another group and cut off contact long ago. Don’t you know all this?” “Will you only be happy when everyone becomes as crazy as you!” His voice pitched up sharply, but he froze when he saw my prominent pregnant belly. Like a deflated balloon, he softened his tone and hugged me, full of guilt: “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” “I was impulsive. I’ll buy you a new laptop tomorrow.” I dodged his touch like I’d been electrocuted, holding onto the doorframe, retching uncontrollably. “Don’t touch me. Dirty…” Julian’s face darkened. His eyes were bloodshot as he gritted his teeth: “You think I’m dirty?” He grabbed my wrist without explanation and pinned me against the door. He tore open my collar and buried his face in my neck: “The doctor said the last trimester is fine. Claire, let’s do it…” “Don’t touch me! Disgusting!” I pushed him away with all my might, squatting on the floor and frantically scrubbing the skin he just touched, not stopping even when it turned red and painful. The room was filled with the sound of my retching. “Too dirty. I need a shower…” “Claire Sullivan! Do you hate me that much? What do I have to do for you to forgive me!” Julian roared hoarsely behind me. I rushed into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the icy water wash over me. The door slammed with a thunderous noise. I looked up and met my reflection in the mirror. That haggard face, streaked with tears. Emotions suddenly overwhelmed me like a tidal wave. I hugged my belly, crying until I couldn’t breathe. I never thought we would go from a happily married couple in our youth to looking at each other with disgust. We used to want to stick together every moment; now, a touch feels revolting. I couldn’t forget those things. I tried. I wanted to forget, to be a generous wife. But the thought of him getting together with the student I sponsored while I was pregnant… Even doing those things in our marital bed on the day of my father’s funeral. My stomach would cramp in stress, like a knife churning my insides. Why can he pretend nothing happened with such peace of mind? I can’t do it! It took a long time before I stumbled out of the bathroom. The house had returned to a deathly silence. Julian sat on the sofa, eyes red: “Sorry, I was impulsive tonight.” “It’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.” “Doesn’t matter.” I interrupted him. “That’s your business.” Without waiting for his answer, I turned back to the bedroom. I lay on the bed, placing my hand gently on my lower abdomen, adjusting my breathing. Sorry baby, Mommy lost her temper and scared you again. My heavy eyelids slowly closed, my mind rehearsing what would happen in a hundred days over and over. Once the baby is born, I’ll be free. 2 I was woken up by contractions. Feeling the trail of blood beneath me, I struggled out of bed, only to find the bedroom door locked tight. Fear rose in my heart. Cradling my belly, I frantically dialed Julian’s number. “Julian, I’m bleeding… The bedroom door is locked, I can’t get out. Come back quick!” Julian’s voice was full of exhaustion, “Claire, the university is hosting an event today, I’m very busy. Stop causing trouble.” “Julian!” Intense contractions made me cry out in pain: “It’s true, I might be giving birth!” “Here we go again!” Julian’s voice rose sharply. “Claire Sullivan, do you just want to ruin the award ceremony?” “No wonder you were so calm last night. You were planning to threaten me with the child!” “Julian, I’m not…” I wanted to explain, but continuous pain drained my strength. He wanted to say more, but Monica’s voice broke in. “Professor Thorne, is Mrs. Thorne making a fuss again?” “Maybe you should go home, you don’t need to accompany me…” “Ignore her, work is important.” Julian’s voice merged with the laughter of students. The call was hung up. I adjusted my breathing and called 911. But when I struggled to get up, I fell into a pool of blood, tears flowing uncontrollably. The doctors arrived quickly. When they broke down the door, they saw me lying in a pool of blood. I miscarried. The doctor said the baby was nearly eight months old. If not for the delay breaking down the door, it could have been saved. Julian knelt by my bedside, slapping himself twice: “Claire, it’s my fault, I’m a bastard!” “I was afraid you’d be triggered seeing me on stage with Monica… Forgive me, wifey, we can have another child.” The last time he knelt was at our wedding. Kissing my hand, teary-eyed, swearing to cherish me forever. Now everything has changed. His figure at this moment could no longer overlap with the innocent boy in my memory. I stared numbly at the ceiling, feeling a momentary sense of relief. The child is gone. I finally don’t have to force myself to be with Julian anymore. A sudden phone ring interrupted his repentance. It was Monica calling. To show loyalty, he immediately put it on speaker and shouted: “Monica, stop pestering me!” The voice on the other end was mixed with sobbing: “Professor Thorne, I’m pregnant…” “I’ll get an abortion, but as the father, I felt you should know.” My palms clenched into fists, my biting lips trembling uncontrollably. My child just died, and she’s pregnant. Julian hung up quickly, looking at me with anxiety and embarrassment: “Claire, I won’t acknowledge this child.” I laughed abruptly, tears falling. “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” “I don’t want a divorce!” Julian stood up and hugged me tightly. “Claire, I love you. Don’t say such things.” I forcefully pulled his hands away and screamed: “Then get Monica to the hospital right now! I want to watch her get an abortion!” Julian closed his eyes, daring not look at me. “Monica has depression. If I make her get an abortion now, I’m afraid she’ll do something drastic.” “What about my child?” I threw the water cup at him. “I deserved to miscarry, is that it? That was your child too!” On the phone, Monica kept sobbing. “Professor Thorne, I won’t make it difficult for you. I’ll go kill myself right now…” Julian’s face turned pale instantly. He clutched his phone and rushed out of the ward. Watching his decisive back. My mom hugged me with heartache, “My poor daughter, we won’t take this abuse anymore.” “Divorce immediately. Mom will go back and pack your bags.” But when I received my mom’s call again, all I heard was her wailing: 3 “Claire! Julian ordered people to demolish our old house!” “Your dad built that brick by brick! It was my only memento!” Like a knife, suddenly stabbing into my heart. I broke down emotionally. Enduring the cramps in my lower abdomen, I dialed Julian’s number with trembling hands: “What right do you have to demolish my parents’ house? They were so good to you!” Julian’s voice was icy. “If I had been a second late just now, Monica would have taken sleeping pills and killed herself.” “Your mom called the school to report Monica as a mistress, almost driving two lives to death!” “The old house is gone. Now she can move to the city to live.” After nearly ten years of marriage, I understood Julian instantly. He wanted to cut off my mom’s retreat. Forcing our whole family to live under his nose. I cried hysterically, “Julian, why don’t you just die with her!” He dropped a “you’re unreasonable” and hung up. I just miscarried, hadn’t even finished my confinement. My mom had a heart attack from the shock and was hospitalized. Successive blows left me in a trance. I opened my phone and posted the 100th thread: [My child is gone, but my husband’s mistress is pregnant. How can I make them pay?] The post exploded. In less than a few hours, it hit the trending list. The comment section rushed to Julian’s account to attack: “Indeed a beast in human clothing. This couple of dogs should just die!” “What right does a rotten cucumber have to be a teacher? The school should fire him!” Seeing netizens on my side. I felt unprecedented relief, my heart much lighter. Until my account suddenly posted a statement. [I’m sorry everyone. I fabricated all 100 posts. I apologize for the trouble caused to my husband and Ms. Monica.] I wanted to log in to delete it, but found the password changed. I realized then that Julian had taken the broken laptop. Immediately after, Julian posted on Weibo: “My wife developed paranoia after getting pregnant, always fantasizing about an inappropriate relationship between me and my student.” “For her sake, I transferred student Monica to another group, but she still couldn’t control herself from posting rumors daily.” “I will make her apologize to student Monica personally. Very sorry for wasting public resources.” I didn’t expect Julian’s method of twisting the truth to be so dirty! Almost instantly, my inbox was filled with abuse. “Old woman, if you’re sick, just die! You look like the type of trophy wife who fantasizes every woman wants her husband!” “Your child died because of your karma, you know that, you bitch…” Just as I was about to retort, Julian called. “Claire Sullivan, come to the school tomorrow to apologize to Monica.” I trembled with anger. “Why should I!” His tone could not hide his anger, “Monica is innocent. What does your child’s death have to do with her?” “If you don’t want your mom’s heart surgery canceled, come to the school immediately and apologize to Monica.” My mom treated him like a son. But for Monica, he used my mom’s life to threaten me! I clenched my palm fiercely until I bit my lip raw, hearing my trembling voice: “Okay, I promise…” After settling my mom, I took a taxi to the school. Monica was sobbing in Julian’s arms. Seeing me, she couldn’t help rushing up and slapping me. “Mrs. Thorne, why did you ruin me!” Surrounding students and teachers looked at me with disdain. In front, someone set up a phone to livestream. Julian’s warning gaze fell on me. “Claire, apologize.” I swallowed the blood in my mouth, about to speak. Someone kicked the back of my knee. My knee slammed into the ground, and I knelt before Monica. My clothes were pulled open. Revealing the hideous stretch marks on my belly. “Ugly people really do create trouble. Looking like this and still having a foul mouth to frame others.” “So disgusting. I wouldn’t want a woman like this even if she paid me.” Julian glanced at me with some embarrassment. He felt ashamed. “Claire Sullivan, don’t feel aggrieved. You posted a hundred threads, Monica only slapped you once. You got off easy.” “I’ve transferred the money to your card. From now on, you owe each other nothing.” I climbed up from the ground, looking at Julian with red eyes. What they owe me, they can never repay. Suppressing the surging hatred, I rushed to the hospital to see my mom, only to hear she was transferred to the ICU. The nurse told me: “The patient fell down the stairs.” “She has intracranial hemorrhage and multiple fractures. She’s being resuscitated.” 4 Surveillance showed that the person who pushed my mom down the stairs was Monica. My blood ran cold instantly. I called Monica, “You dared to push my mom! I’ll make sure you go to jail!” But what answered me was Julian’s reproachful voice. “You can’t blame Monica for this. She came for a prenatal checkup, and Mom went up and scolded her.” “Monica was scared and pushed by accident.” Teetering on the edge of collapse, I almost roared out. “My mom has a brain hemorrhage and is still being resuscitated! Julian Thorne, you’re actually defending a murderer! Do you have a heart?!” The call was hung up immediately. When I called back, I was already blocked. I sat withered outside the ICU until the attending physician came out, looking at me with regret: “Miss Sullivan, my condolences.” My world spun, darkness falling before my eyes, and I vomited a mouthful of blood. My mom died. I have no relatives left in the world. Hatred nearly burst my chest. I immediately took a taxi to University A. Since they say I’m crazy, I’ll show them crazy! When I arrived at the school, Monica was giving a speech. I rushed up, grabbed her hair, and slapped her hard. “Murderer! I want you to pay with your life!” The audience was in an uproar. “Ah! Professor Thorne, save me!” Reacting, Julian rushed onto the stage and kicked me in the waist. “Claire Sullivan, what are you doing here? Are you insane?” Julian shielded Monica behind him, looking at me with hatred. “Mrs. Thorne, why did you ruin my speech assembly!” Monica sobbed uncontrollably. She suddenly knelt down and kept kowtowing to me. “I’ll go die right now. Please let me go. I really can’t take it anymore!” I didn’t miss the flash of triumphant mockery in Monica’s eyes. Red-eyed, she stumbled towards the rooftop. When Julian chased after her, Monica was already outside the railing, teetering. “Monica, don’t be rash. With me here, anything can be solved.” Monica cried beautifully, appearing broken and pitiful. “Professor Thorne, I have no choice. I’m being driven crazy by Mrs. Thorne. I’m just a child from a poor family, and now being bullied like this… I really don’t want to live anymore.” In the crowd, I sneered: “Then jump!” Slap! A ruthless slap landed on my face. “Claire Sullivan, shut up! Do you have to force her to death!” Julian, with a dark face, dragged me by my hair to Monica. “Kowtow and apologize to Monica immediately. Promise you won’t go crazy again.” I threw off his hand. “Dream on!” Julian tapped on his phone. The surveillance video of my mom at the funeral home appeared in front of me. He stared at me, his tone brooking no refusal: “I give you ten seconds.” “If you don’t kneel, I’ll have someone drag your mom’s corpse over to kneel for you.” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to see a trace of hesitation in his eyes. But there was none. He just counted down calmly like a machine. “Five, four…” Seeing my mom’s body really being dragged out and thrown on the ground. I couldn’t hold it anymore and flopped to my knees in front of Monica. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I won’t dare again…” Triumph flashed in Monica’s eyes. She glanced timidly at Julian, “Professor Thorne, I don’t think Mrs. Thorne is sincere.” With that, Julian immediately grabbed my head and smashed it on the ground. Warm blood slid down my face. He whispered in my ear: “Wifey, bear with it. Let’s get Monica down first.” After a full 99 kowtows, Monica came down from the roof and threw herself into Julian’s arms. She looked at me provocatively, but the next second, a group of police rushed in and handcuffed them!

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After I was rescued from my own “kidnapping,” Julian immediately started sleeping in a separate room. No matter how much I explained, he refused to believe I hadn’t been violated. Even when I tried to initiate intimacy, he threw me out of the bedroom, naked. Friends and family looked at me with increasing pity. Everyone advised me: “Julian is a good man. Stop torturing him.” Even my son shouted in anger: “You’re so dirty! Why do you keep pushing Dad?” So, I was labeled a “rape victim” and a “lunatic.” I spent the rest of my life in misery and despair, ending it all by drowning myself in a lake in my old age. But it wasn’t until after my death that I learned the truth: that kidnapping was staged by Julian himself. He used my guilt to make me care for our son and his mother. Meanwhile, he justified “keeping himself pure” for the love of his life, living it up with her. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was rescued. 1 I collapsed on the street, disheveled. Julian covered me with his jacket, his eyes full of pain and tenderness. He comforted me: “Don’t say anything. Let’s go home first.” The sharp gazes of the neighbors pierced me like knives. I trembled all over, finally believing I had really been reborn. On this day in my past life, I was inexplicably kidnapped. Twenty-four hours later, I was dumped at my doorstep. Clothes torn, spirit broken. Julian played the role of the perfect husband, terrified of triggering my trauma. He forbade anyone from asking me what happened. Even when I asked about it myself, Julian rejected me without hesitation. “You’re very fragile right now. Just rest. Leave everything else to me.” I was dazed back then, thinking he was doing it for my own good. But within three days, rumors that I had been defiled spread everywhere. By the time I wanted to clarify, it was too late. It wasn’t until I committed suicide in my old age that Julian burned paper money for me. His hypocritical eyes moistened for two seconds as he thanked me for my years of sacrifice. But he never regretted it. Because I had taken the place of the love of his life, cutting off his delusions. If he had to do it again, he would still make the same choice. Seeing me stare straight at him, a flicker of panic crossed Julian’s face. But soon, he tried to usher me home. He even addressed the concerned friends and relatives who tried to approach: “Sarah isn’t doing well. For the sake of her mental health, please give her some space. No visitors for now.” His words sounded so sincere that even my parents hesitated. They looked at me with red, swollen eyes, afraid that, as Julian said, they might agitate me. Anger rushed straight to my brain. I shook off Julian’s hand, which was gripping me like a vice, and walked quickly towards my parents. Tears streamed down their faces as they reached out to hug me. “Sarah, my poor child.” Once they calmed down a bit, I signaled to them calmly. “Mom, Dad, I’m fine. Let’s talk at home.” Julian panicked and immediately followed. His voice raised unconsciously: “Sarah Lin, isn’t this mess big enough already?! Stop running around at a time like this.” My son was also confused. Looking at the inquisitive expressions around us, he said irritably: “Mom, why aren’t we going home? Why are we going to Grandma’s?” My heart twitched slightly. Father and son, singing the same tune. There was no worry for me in their eyes, only the fear of exposure and the annoyance of embarrassment. My parents sensed it too. Their faces darkened. After exchanging a glance, they pulled me into their car. Julian was dumbfounded. He and my son hurriedly followed. seeing me take out my phone to call the police, he snatched it away without thinking and turned it off. In an instant, everyone in the car looked at him. Julian’s face froze, his eyes shifting unnaturally. “I already called them for you. No need to do it again.” But I knew he was lying. 2 In my past life, whenever I asked him: “How is the police investigation going?” At first, his reply was always: “Soon, soon.” Later, losing patience, he impatiently said the case was closed. But the rumors around me grew uglier, saying I was unclean, bad luck, dishonest. The ubiquitous colored gazes drove me to the brink. I often had to take handfuls of sleeping pills to fall asleep. Later, when I discovered Julian’s affair and we argued, everyone collectively attacked me. With looks that said “I knew it,” they commented: “Seems she hasn’t moved on from the trauma.” “She’s crazy! She’s starting to hallucinate!” “Her husband is saint enough not to despise her. Is she trying to drive everyone crazy to be happy?!” Julian forcibly committed me to a mental hospital. Bone-deep electric shocks ran through my body, making me wail nightly, even losing control of my bladder. But everyone turned around and pitied Julian, urging him to divorce me. Julian, with a face of endurance, stood in front of me and declared self-righteously: “She is my wife. As long as I live, I will never give up on her!” This speech moved everyone. But later I understood. He kept me not because he loved me, but to make me take care of his young son and half-paralyzed mother. Only after squeezing the last drop of value from me did he let me die. My thoughts returned. I lifted my bloodshot eyes, about to speak. Julian’s phone suddenly rang. It was his “white moonlight”—the love of his life, Luna—calling. Julian froze, glancing up at me. He turned off the speakerphone before answering. But the next second, his face changed completely. “Sick? Stop the car! I need to get out!” My son also followed anxiously, running two steps before turning back guiltily to explain: “Mom, Auntie Luna treats me well. It’s only right I go visit her.” My mom’s face was grim. My dad’s anger flared up instantly. “Your mom just escaped death, and you guys—” Before Dad could finish, I pressed his hand down, turning calmly to the father and son: “Go ahead.” In an instant, everyone looked at me. An unease rose in Julian’s heart. He seemed to sense I was different from before. But before he could think too much, I stepped on the gas and sped away. Luna was Julian’s “white moonlight,” but she never lacked male suitors. After catching her cheating for the ninth time, Julian finally lost heart and settled for a blind date with me. But shortly after we got married, Luna changed her mind. From then on, Julian resented me, feeling I had ruined his happy life. In my past life, after Julian staged the kidnapping, my mental state began to deteriorate. At first, Julian would avoid me. Later, he became bolder, flirting with Luna right in front of me. He even brought her home to sleep with. I collapsed and rushed over to confront them. But Julian slapped me to the ground. Grabbing my hair, he threatened: “If you dare touch a finger on her, I’ll send you back to the mental hospital! No one believes you!” I broke down and begged my son for help, but he just sighed. “Mom, my tuition depends on Dad. Just turn a blind eye.” In that moment, my heart shattered. This was the child I risked my life to give birth to. The metallic taste of blood surged in my throat. I took a deep breath to suppress it. After arriving home, my parents accompanied me to call the police. Hearing it was a kidnapping case, the police took it very seriously. They immediately launched an investigation. When we returned, Julian and my son were waiting for me at my parents’ house. They wore satisfied smiles. They had spent the whole afternoon with Luna at the makeup counter without a hint of impatience. One didn’t look like a husband whose wife had just suffered a disaster. The other didn’t look like a son whose mother had been traumatized. And they came only to make me go back and continue taking care of the household. Seeing us return, Julian looked confused: “Where did you go?” 3 My parents and I exchanged glances, but none of us said anything. Unsure, Julian urged me to go home again. “It’s late. Let’s not disturb Mom and Dad. Let’s go home.” Saying that, he reached out to pull me, as if afraid I’d stay a second longer. I raised my hand and took two steps back. “I’m not going back for the next few days.” As soon as the words fell, Julian’s face changed. He looked at me in panic. Seeing that I didn’t seem to have discovered anything, he immediately became aggressive: “What do you mean? What’s wrong with the house that you won’t go back? My son and I haven’t even eaten yet!” “With all the gossip outside, the boy is grown up now. Don’t you think about him?! How can he face his classmates in the future!” My son also looked at me with a grim face. “Yeah, Mom, what’s wrong with you? It’s not like Dad and I caused you to be kidnapped. Do you have to stay away from home? Have you considered my reputation?” My chest felt tight and bloated. I bit my lip hard to stop the tears. Reputation. Always reputation. In my past life, for the sake of his damn reputation. I swallowed my pride and didn’t divorce him. But when my daughter-in-law entered the family, they locked me in the house. Sitting in the high seat of the mother in the main hall was the unrelated Luna. My son called her “Mom” with a beaming face. I cried my heart out in the basement, almost dying from hyperventilation. And the first second I opened my eyes after being saved from the hospital, I faced his overwhelming accusations. “Today is my big day. Did you think about me when you pulled this stunt? Are you even my real mom?” “You’re unpresentable anyway. What’s wrong with Auntie Luna helping out!” With that, he unilaterally cut ties with me. Until a year later when my daughter-in-law gave birth, he brazenly came back to morally kidnap me. “Mom, I was young and ignorant then. Don’t hold it against me. Now that your grandson is here, how can you as a grandma not help out?” The father and son sang the same tune and coaxed me back. Julian became a hands-off boss, traveling the country with Luna. Thinking of this, my heart went cold. When I lifted my eyelids to look at my son, my face was full of mockery. “Tim, is your reputation more important than my life?” “You and your dad played with Luna all day, and you still want me to go home and cook for you? Are you disabled?” My merciless words hit Tim like a slap in the face. He turned red instantly. He stood there in disbelief, as if unable to understand how I, who loved him most, could say such things. “Enough!” Julian suddenly shouted, as if the temper he’d held back all day finally exploded. “Didn’t you agree to let us go? Why bring up old scores now! My son and I were just concerned about you. Why be so mean and harsh!” “Besides, aren’t you fine now! Even if not for us, Mom is starving at home. Aren’t you being too unfilial as a daughter-in-law!” Tim, backed by his dad, straightened his spine again. “Yeah, Mom, look how angry you made Dad. Stop making a scene.” A scene? In his eyes, his father is always right. I really want to know if he can still stand so brazenly by his father’s side when he learns his father did such a beastly thing. But before I could speak, my dad couldn’t take it anymore. He rushed over and pointed at the door: “Get out! Both of you get out!” Tim got anxious and quickly said: “Grandpa, how can you—Ah!” Before he could finish, Dad slapped him. “Little beast! Just like your father!” Julian got angry and rushed up to shove Dad. His tone was sinister: “I call you Dad to give you face, doesn’t mean you can hit my son!” “Your whole family doesn’t know right from wrong. I’d like to see what relatives and friends think when they find out!” With that, he led Tim and slammed the door as they left. There were onlookers at the door. Dad trembled with anger. He had been a respectable man all his life and almost had a heart attack. Mom’s eyes were red, wanting to rush out to argue. I hugged her trembling body, holding back tears as I promised: “Mom, trust me. I will make them pay.” 4 So early the next morning, I went back to pack my things. Julian’s relatives were sitting in a circle. It seemed they were preparing to gang up on me again. I still vividly remember how ugly their words were in my past life. “You’re damaged goods, why divorce!” “If you didn’t attract bees and butterflies, how could you be kidnapped and ruined?” “If you still have any humanity, just be a good wife and mother and stop making trouble!” With a loud bang, I pushed the door open. Julian’s anxious face instantly cleared up. But he suppressed his rising smile and still put on airs arrogantly in front of me. “You still have the face to come back! Because you didn’t come back yesterday, no one changed Mom’s diaper, and her thighs are all red.” “Go kneel and apologize to her, and I’ll let bygones be bygones and reluctantly forgive you.” I scanned the room coldly. Only away for a day, and the room was filled with the foul smell of urine. The table was piled with greasy dishes. His relatives spoke sarcastically: “Sarah, you graduated from a prestigious university, how come you have no womanly virtue? Leaving a pile of work at home to go enjoy yourself at your parents’.” “Not to mention your body is dirty, you’re not considerate of your husband, throwing tantrums here!” “Careful Tim won’t be close to you in the future and won’t take care of you when you’re old!” Their words stabbed at my weak spots one after another. In the past, the cowardly me would always be humiliated to tears by them. But now, I raised my hand and pushed away the Third Aunt who was almost sticking to me. Spitting out a “Scram.” Her face turned green instantly. Just as she was about to roll up her sleeves to curse me. My mother-in-law’s wailing sounded, her voice shrill and piercing: “Sarah Lin! You little hoof, hurry up and clean me!” “My family committed a sin marrying such an unfilial daughter-in-law!” “Isn’t what you did shameful enough! Now everyone knows you were ruined. If I were you, I would have found a hole to crawl into long ago!” To this day, I still don’t understand why she was so vicious to me. In my past life, she was paralyzed for decades. I was the one who cleaned her feces and urine. I gave her care and dignity. Her son wouldn’t even pour her a glass of water. Her grandson avoided her room like the plague. Yet she never dared to criticize them, only directing her vicious words at me. Seeing my silence, Julian thought I was afraid and became even more smug. “From now on, just stay home obediently and take care of the elderly and children. Pretend that incident never happened, and I won’t despise you.” His shameless face made my stomach churn. My son and those relatives also took the opportunity to close in on me. “Mom, Dad is generous enough. Just take the out he’s giving you! Stop trying to be tough.” “Tim’s mom, just live your life well. Don’t provoke Julian into really dumping you; you’ll have nowhere to cry then.” They chimed in one after another, seemingly giving me an out. In reality, they were afraid I would divorce because they knew Julian would never find anyone as stupid as me again. Willing to sacrifice myself and work like a horse for this family. I didn’t take the bait. I directly took out the prepared divorce agreement and slammed it in front of them. “Let’s divorce.” In an instant, the room fell silent. Julian’s face was so dark it could drip water. He gritted his teeth, tearing up the contract like a madman. Pointing at me, he said: “She’s crazy. Send her to a mental hospital for treatment for a while and she’ll be fine.” Saying that, he approached me with a twisted face to grab me. My heart jumped to my throat. He wanted to repeat his old trick. So I immediately struggled with all my might: “Let go of me! I’m not sick at all!” My son looked at me helplessly, standing there conflicted. My mother-in-law clapped her hands with gloating joy. “Lock her up for a few days! Cure her bitchy habits properly!” Julian ignored my struggles and dragged me all the way to the car. Seeing the onlookers, he said in a helpless tone: “She went crazy because of that accident. We’re taking her to see a doctor.” Saying that, he strangled my neck and tried to stuff me into the car. My heart beat like a drum, my face turning purple. Just as everything was about to repeat itself, loud and urgent sirens suddenly sounded. With a screeching brake sound, the police intercepted Julian’s car.

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Julian Thorne, a man who never cared about holidays, unexpectedly ordered me a milk tea on the first day of autumn. But he sent it to my old workplace. My former colleague called me: “Your husband is quite the romantic, sending reminders to us ex-colleagues even on minor holidays.” “But, how come the famous Lawyer Thorne only got you a one-dollar bubble tea?” I heard a hint of mockery in her teasing tone. Hanging up the phone, I looked at his young assistant’s Instagram post. “Thanks to the boss for transferring 520,000 dollars to me, telling me to buy out the whole milk tea shop.” In the chat screenshot, the profile picture she deliberately forgot to blur out was the cartoon couple avatar he had suddenly changed to a few days ago. My ex-colleague deliberately mailed that cup of milk tea to me via same-city express. Holding the half-finished, sticky milk tea, I thought about our marriage. A pity to throw away, but uncomfortable to hold. 1 Holding this half-cup of milk tea that I didn’t know whether to toss or drink, I arrived at Julian Thorne’s law firm. Pushing open the office door, the laughter inside stopped abruptly. Fiona Hill’s hand hurriedly retracted from his waist. The doting smile on his face vanished, replaced by a slight frown. Fiona passed by me, giving me an unnatural smile: “Mrs. Thorne, you chat with Mr. Thorne. I’ll get back to work!” I stopped her. “Please return the 520,000 dollars you received. That is the joint property of my husband and me.” “You’re a young girl; you wouldn’t want people calling you a mistress, right?” Fiona’s eyes reddened as she looked back at Julian aggrievedly. Julian’s face darkened, and he pulled me over. “You open your mouth and try to ruin a young girl’s reputation?” “She’s been working hard lately. This is a reward from the firm.” Looking at his anxious defense, he seemed to have forgotten. A few days ago, when I was helping him negotiate a partnership with a client, the client’s wife rushed in, splashed coffee all over me, and cursed me out. He only advised me lightly to endure it for the sake of the firm. I shook off his hand and looked straight at him. “Is it a reward from the firm or… a personal reward from you?” “If it’s a firm reward, please go through the company account.” “At least finance should check if they want to sign off on this.” He, an eloquent lawyer, was speechless at this moment. I wished he would argue and explain to me. Even like when the firm was first established. He hugged me tightly from behind and promised: “Honey, a mysterious investor took a fancy to my talent and injected capital into the firm.” “From now on, you manage the accounts for both home and the firm. I want to be a henpecked husband who asks you for money.” But now he just stood there with a cold face, and there was even a trace of imperceptible disgust in his eyes. Fiona bit her lip lightly and took out her phone helplessly. “Mrs. Thorne, please don’t misunderstand. Mr. Thorne just takes care of me because I’m young.” “I’ll return the money right away!” Watching Fiona finish the operation and run out wiping tears. Julian looked at me coldly. “Are you satisfied now?” “Sarah, bullying a young girl with the title of Mrs. Thorne, you’re really capable.” “Do you need that 520,000 dollars so badly?” It wasn’t the first time I heard such a mocking tone. Last time, he lent my car to Fiona without saying hello. When I found out, he had the same demeanor. “Is it necessary to be so petty?” “It’s just sitting there anyway.” “Letting Fiona drive it for a few days can even help maintain it for you.” His charitable tone made it seem like I should thank his little assistant. 2 At the time, I wanted to ask him if he, as a husband, was also “just sitting there” and needed to be lent to her too? But I held back. I placed the half-cup of milk tea on his desk. My eyes were moist. “Julian, let’s get a divorce!” His eyes flickered slightly, unable to control his anger anymore. “Just because I transferred 520,000 dollars to Fiona as a reward?” “Sarah, can you stop being unreasonable?” “I’m getting busy. If you have nothing to do, you might as well go home and figure out how to give the Thorne family a son.” Watching him impatiently issue the eviction order. My heart stung painfully. Seven years ago, just graduated from college, I was pregnant with his child. After his business failed, he hugged me and choked up: “I want to keep him too.” “But Sarah, I can’t even afford an abortion now. How can I afford to raise a child?” Waking up from the surgery, I cried bitterly, hurting my body fundamentally. He knew all this; he clearly knew! I held back the tears that were about to burst out and spoke stubbornly: “Why don’t you check where you sent the milk tea you ordered for me?” He took out his phone doubtfully, then snorted coldly. “Isn’t it just forgetting to change the address?” “You used to say I wasn’t romantic. Now that I am romantic for once, you’re finding fault.” “When did you become so dramatic?” He dismissed me perfunctorily as usual. “Alright, alright, I’ll have dinner with you tonight, okay?” Watching him sit at his desk, too lazy to even lift his head. He had long forgotten the resignation letter he mailed to my former workplace for me. Also forgotten how he proudly called me. His voice loud and clear, penetrating the entire office area. “Sarah, my law firm is taking shape. I can finally boldly say I’ll support you.” “I want those snobbish colleagues who usually look down on you to be envious and jealous.” But I didn’t expect that the second time he used this address, it would only bring me humiliation. I knew it was useless to say more and left silently. Turning around at the door, I saw him disgustedly throw that half-cup of milk tea into the trash can. Before I even walked home, Julian’s message came. “Have a social engagement tonight.” Prepared in my heart, I still felt a sense of loss and sadness. Since he recruited Fiona, the little assistant. Late returns and broken promises had become common. I had complained. He retorted impatiently. “I have to work and train newcomers.” “I’m tired. Can’t you understand me?” “Do you think everyone is like you, doing nothing all day, watching TV, and shopping?” Before I could put away my phone. Fiona’s provocative message also came in. “Sarah, why check my Moments sneakily?” “After you left, Mr. Thorne bought me a diamond necklace to apologize. The price is also 520,000 dollars.” Looking at the photo she sent. It was actually the one I took a fancy to when Julian invited me to the mall a few days ago, which was rare. When I wanted to buy it, he refused me. “You stay at home all day. Who are you wearing it for?” Only now did I know he just treated me as a female who could give him advice. I covered my breathless chest and quickly took a screenshot. Just after I finished screenshotting, she recalled all the messages. After getting home, I lay on the bed in a daze, groggily answering the phone that kept ringing. A low and deep voice came into my ears. “You asked a former suitor to handle your divorce case?” “Sarah, you’re really something.” Recognizing it was Caden Sterling, I remembered. Before going to Julian’s law firm, I contacted him first. 3 Unable to respond to him, I whimpered in discomfort, cold sweat soaking the sheets. The voice on the phone became urgent and angry. “Sarah, are you sick?” “Where is Julian?” “Don’t hang up, wait for me.” I had a fever. I only knew there was someone by my side silently and carefully taking care of me. A tear inexplicably spilled from the corner of my eye. Julian still cared about me. I slept peacefully until dawn. Thinking of the gentle and careful care last night, the suppressed corners of my mouth rose slightly. Walking to the living room, I stood frozen there. Julian was thoughtfully covering Fiona, who was lying on the sofa, with a blanket. He lowered his head, staring obsessively at her luscious lips. At the moment he was about to touch them, he pulled away in a panic. Turning his head to see me, he explained somewhat unnaturally. “Fiona got drunk accompanying me to a social event last night. I could only bring her back.” After speaking, he urged me continuously. “Aren’t you best at making hangover soup? Go make a bowl now.” Hangover soup? That was the recipe I shamelessly asked Caden for, just because I was worried about his health. I clenched my fists tight. Nails digging into my flesh, feeling nothing. He urged impatiently again. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and make it!” I looked at him trembling and spoke. “Julian, how can you take care of two women in one night?” He was slightly stunned, looking at me bafflingly. “What two women?” “I just brought Fiona back…” Only then did he see my pale face, walked over and reached out his hand. “You’re sick?” I dodged subconsciously. My mind was in chaos. If it wasn’t him last night, who was it? He withdrew his hand frozen in the air. “Sarah, did you take a cold shower again last night?” “To get my attention, you really have all sorts of tricks.” “Are you still the carefree Sarah from before? Can you stop being so dramatic?” I took an uncontrollable step back, my pale face losing even more color. Seven years ago, he blushed and asked me to be his girlfriend. “Sarah, you know what? You’re like the sun. I feel comfortable and relaxed with you.” Five years ago, he hugged me tightly out of jealousy. “Sarah, can you care about me a little more?” “I can’t stand your indifferent look all day. I am your property.” Three years ago, he coldly left me alone in the hospital. “Sarah, yesterday you had a stomachache, today you have a cold. Tomorrow are you going to say you have a terminal illness?” “You’re so old, how come you’re not as understanding as Fiona?” When I loved him more and more. He seemed to love me less! Seemingly unable to see my sadness, he grabbed my wrist hard and pushed me into the kitchen. “Hurry up. Fiona and I have to go to work later.” “Unlike you, like a parasite, doing nothing all day.” The kitchen door was slammed shut with a “bang”. I was isolated inside alone. Like being sealed in an airtight box, the air was thin. My body went limp, and I curled up in a corner. He even forgot I had claustrophobia. Tears could no longer be controlled, flowing like a broken dam. Looking at “Mom” flashing continuously on the phone. I hurriedly wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. “Sarah, your dad has been sued. Hurry up and bring Julian over.” Mom’s anxious voice came from the phone. I stumbled open the kitchen door and ran out. But the empty living room was already devoid of anyone. 4 I called Julian. He answered after a long time. “Making a hangover soup is like killing you.” “Fiona was woken up by you. I’m taking her to get some breakfast now. Stop causing trouble.” Before I could speak, he hung up coldly. I adjusted my emotions and rushed home anxiously. Mom started crying as soon as she saw me. “Sarah, your dad just scratched his leg on the bus, and the girl sitting opposite him accused him of sexual harassment.” “How old is your dad? How can he bear such a stigma?” “But with Julian, a big lawyer, here, we must actively respond to the lawsuit. We are not afraid.” Perhaps he also received Mom’s call. Julian arrived in a hurry. Like a qualified son-in-law, he methodically comforted Mom. Watching his steadiness and composure, I seemed to see a pillar of support. When the court session opened, I held Mom’s hand tightly. Looking in disbelief as he held Fiona’s hand and actually walked to the plaintiff’s seat. He looked at me righteously. “I won’t bend the law for personal relationships. As a lawyer, I will definitely stand on the side of justice.” “If your dad made a mistake, he should be punished as he deserves.” I didn’t expect that the girl suing my father was actually Fiona. Because Fiona was defended by him, the best lawyer in North City, we lost the first trial. Walking out of the court. Reporters crowded the entrance, attacking my father with the most vicious language. “So old and still disrespectful?” “It’s not that the old turn bad, but the bad grow old.” “You have a daughter too. Do you have dirty thoughts about your own daughter?” Onlookers pointed at our family even more. “Looking decent and kind, how could he do such obscene things?” “The girl is kind-hearted, only asking him to kneel and apologize. That’s already saving him face.” “In my opinion, he should be locked up and drop the soap in prison.” Someone even ran up to my father and spat on his face. My father, a university professor, couldn’t bear it and spat out a mouthful of blood. I supported my father’s crumbling body. Julian walked past us expressionlessly. He just snorted coldly. “A family of drama queens.” Then he left heartlessly. Fiona walked over slowly from behind him, leaning close to me. “Sarah, how can an incompetent housewife like you still have the face to cling to Mr. Thorne and suck his blood?” “This is just a small lesson. I hope you can take the initiative to divorce Mr. Thorne.” “Besides…” She raised the corner of her mouth: “I’m pregnant. It’s Julian’s.” After speaking, she proudly got into the passenger seat that used to belong to me. “Before the case is completely over, I don’t mind bringing the Sterling legal team to sue you reporters for defamation and completely ban you from this industry.” “Including you passersby who insult others without knowing the situation, I will settle accounts one by one.” When I was in despair, a stern warning sounded. Immediately, those reporters were silent as cicadas in winter. The crowd also dispersed muttering. With hazy eyes, I looked up. It was Caden. Julian just walked into the company. A subordinate pulled a cart piled with mail as tall as a person, running in panic. “Mr. Thorne, bad news. The firm received a huge pile of lawsuit documents.” He sat proudly in his chair. “This is a good thing. It proves our firm’s business is increasing and we are about to soar in North City.” Fiona excitedly helped move those documents down. The subordinate spoke carefully: “But Mr. Thorne…” “These documents are all suing you and Assistant Hill.”

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It was midnight when I saw the post from the campus heartthrob: [M21] Been online dating this girl for three months. We’re supposed to meet up soon, but I found out she weighs 200lbs. What do I do? The top comment was absolutely savage: [Give the account and the girl to someone you hate. Let two losers deal with each other.] The heartthrob happily accepted the advice. I couldn’t help but shake my head. Thank god my boyfriend isn’t trash like that. Not long after, I was on a sweet date with my boyfriend when the heartthrob suddenly stormed up to us, pointed at my guy, and screamed: “You son of a b*tch! That account was mine! I should be Lucy’s boyfriend! Give her back, account and all!” Chapter 1 I was just about to go to sleep when the Reddit thread caught my eye. I instantly clicked because I recognized the username. It was VarsityBrad—Brad Miller, the star quarterback of our university. I couldn’t believe a guy like that was online dating. Brad was currently venting in the post: [VarsityBrad]: I swear to god, she told me she was 5’6″ and looked like a model. I believed her for three whole months! [VarsityBrad]: I forgot to ask for her weight! [VarsityBrad]: I ordered her DoorDash today and asked the driver to scope it out. The driver said a literal tank came down to get the food. Legs thicker than my waist, looked like a side of beef. Every time I think about calling that ‘babe’ for three months, I want to yeet myself off a bridge! The comments were all laughing at him: [User1]: You got too attached to an online fling. One photo exchange would have humbled you. [User2]: Fate really loves playing tricks on shallow people. Brad was spiraling: [VarsityBrad]: It’s not just a trick anymore. I promised we’d meet up next week. I’d rather fight a bear than meet her now! What a coincidence. My boyfriend and I also agreed to meet next week. I switched back to Discord. My chat with my online boyfriend, X, was still paused from the evening. X: Heading into the engineering lab tonight. Don’t wait up. It was almost ten. I messaged him: Me: Babe, are you still working? Me: I just saw a thread on Reddit that made me so mad! Chapter 2 He must have been busy because he didn’t reply for a long time. I knew they weren’t allowed phones in the secure labs, so I didn’t stress. I went back to scrolling the thread. In that short time, Brad had posted several more comments, and they were getting nasty: [VarsityBrad]: Ugh, the tank won’t leave me alone. She keeps texting me. [VarsityBrad]: I feel sick just looking at her avatar now, let alone chatting with her. [VarsityBrad]: I need to go throw up. The replies were mixed. Most were gloating, but a few people defended the girl. Brad shut them down instantly: [VarsityBrad]: You’re so noble? You go date the tank then. [VarsityBrad]: Did she apologize for looking like that while online dating? I’m doing her a favor by not ripping into her face-to-face! There were plenty of people giving him bad ideas. I scrolled for a bit longer, got bored, and switched back to Discord. Weird. Why hadn’t he messaged me back? This had never happened before. Was he pulling an all-nighter in the lab? I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I sent a “Goodnight” sticker and went to sleep. The next morning, I checked my messages first thing. Still nothing. What was going on? However, Brad’s thread had a new development. I frowned at the top comment: [TopComment]: This is easy to solve. Just give the login and the girlfriend to someone you hate. Let the two annoying losers deal with each other! Wow, that is genuinely evil. There were comments saying that was messed up, but Brad thought it was genius: [VarsityBrad]: Smart move, bro! My cousin has been acting like a pretentious jerk lately. I hate him. I’m doing it! Chapter 3 Does Brad have a cousin? I’d never heard of one. But whatever they did had nothing to do with me. The important thing was: why wasn’t my boyfriend replying? I re-read our logs from yesterday. Nothing seemed wrong. He had ordered me sushi for dinner, then told me he was going to the lab. So why the silence? Just as I was debating whether to call him, my phone vibrated. X: Good morning, baby. I let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling a little pouty. Me: Why did you ignore me all night? T_T X: Sorry baby, the lab was crazy. Just as I thought. Busy with work. I relaxed completely. Me: Fine. I forgive you. Barely. X: Don’t forgive me too fast. You can yell at me more if you want, baby. He was calling me ‘baby’ so much it was making me blush. Me: Why is your mouth so sweet today? X: I missed you. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. Me: We talk every day, how can you miss me? Silence for a few seconds, then: X: I miss you a lot. X: I really want to see you soon, baby. Chapter 4 Why was he being so smooth today?! I felt a strange vibe, but my heart was pounding too fast to analyze it. I quickly switched apps to scroll and calm down. I’d been dating X for almost four months. He usually had that “cool guy” vibe. He called me babe, but he rarely said anything this clingy. Something was off. Seriously off. Did he do something to make me mad? I immediately thought of the Reddit post I saw last night. The anger I felt on behalf of that girl came rushing back. I asked seriously: Me: You’re acting sus. Tell me, what did you do? He went quiet. A few seconds later, a voice memo popped up. “You caught me, baby. I bought you cupcakes. Your diet plan is getting ruined by me today.” Listening to the voice note, I felt that weird tingle again. He had sent voice notes before, but they were usually that forced, low “morning voice” guys do. It wasn’t bad, but it was nothing like this clear, bright, pleasant voice. I couldn’t help but save the audio file. I held down the mic button: “You’re weird today. Your reactions are weird, your words are weird, even your voice is weird.” He replied instantly: “Does this kind of weird… make you hate me?” Of course not! I’m a sucker for soft guys. I cleared my throat and hit record: “I don’t hate it. Keep it up.” He laughed in the next clip. “Okay, baby. Go downstairs and get your cupcakes.” Chapter 5 Eating cupcakes first thing in the morning? Sinful! I scolded myself while rushing to wash my face and brush my teeth. “Lucy, you’re up early?” my roommate asked, surprised. I grinned. “My boyfriend bought me cupcakes. Do you have any deliveries downstairs? I’ll grab them.” My roommate waved her hand. “I’ll go myself.” I clicked my tongue. “You grabbed mine yesterday, let me get yours today.” My roommate stood up. “Let’s go together then. I count the stairs as my workout.” She had some health issues and was on medication that caused weight gain, so she was always quietly trying to lose weight. Since she insisted, I didn’t argue. We went downstairs together. The deliveries were on a rack outside the dorm. It was early, so not many people were there. I found the cupcakes quickly. There were two boxes. The note was clear: One for my baby Lucy. One for Lucy’s roommate. I stared at the note for two seconds and couldn’t help but smile. I waved the box at my roommate. “My boyfriend is treating us.” She took it, looked at it, and squealed. “Thank you to Lucy and her hubby! Is it your anniversary or something? We’re getting perks!” Honestly, I was surprised too. In the past few months, X rarely ordered me food, let alone shared with my roommate. Did he make a breakthrough in the lab last night? Is he delirious with joy? Just as I took out my phone to ask, someone called out from ahead: “Lucy?” I looked up, startled. “Brad.” It was Brad Miller. He walked over, his gaze drifting casually to my roommate next to me. He frowned with visible disgust. Then his eyes flicked to the cupcakes in her hand, and I swear I saw a flash of… Glee? Chapter 6 I didn’t like the way he was looking at us. I interrupted him: “Can I help you with something?” Brad snapped out of it and cleared his throat. “Next weekend my frat is hosting a mixer. It’ll be fun. You want to come?” I frowned slightly. Didn’t Brad have a girlfriend? Why was he inviting me? Wait. I paused, remembering the Reddit comments from this morning. Brad gave his account to someone he hated. So, technically… he was single? What a toxic way to be single. I rejected him immediately. “Sorry, I’m meeting my boyfriend next weekend. I don’t have time.” Brad’s expression froze. “You have a boyfriend??” I kept my patience. “Yes. We’ve been dating for a long time.” Ignoring Brad’s furrowed brow, I grabbed my roommate and walked away. “Lucy, you really don’t like Brad, do you?” my roommate teased. “Didn’t he try to chase you a while back? Posting about you on the confession wall and everything.” Saying a few vague things counts as chasing? That’s harassment at best. And considering he had an online girlfriend while trying to flirt with girls on campus, his character was clearly trash. Back in the dorm, I took photos of the cupcakes from every angle, selected the best nine, and sent them to X. Me: Thanks for the food, bro! <3 X replied instantly, but focused on the wrong thing: [Bro?] I giggled and pressed the voice button: "Oops, wrong word. Thanks for the food, boyfriend~" X: Say it again. I decided to indulge him: "Boyfriend~" He went silent for a few seconds. Then, the notifications started popping. He started spamming me with Venmo transfers. I stared at the screen. $520. $1314. $9999. I was shocked. [Are you crazy? Why are you sending me so much money?] X had only ever sent me a Red Pocket once before, on my birthday. It was five dollars and twenty cents. The cheapskate special. X: I'm just too happy. I want my baby to be happy with me. I couldn't help but laugh. Just as I was about to reply, he sent another message: X: Baby, I want to come see you early. Can I?

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My mother gave my heart transplant spot to someone else. The surgery was a success. Reporters flocked to the hospital to interview her. “Dr. Vance,” a journalist asked, holding a microphone to her face, “we heard your own son has been on the transplant list for three years…” My mother, the esteemed Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery, cut him off smoothly. “As a doctor’s family, my son has understood from a young age that medicine requires sacrifice. He knows that a physician’s duty is to put others before oneself. He supports my decision wholeheartedly.” I stood in the shadows, remembering three months ago when she told me the donor heart had “complications” and I needed to wait. But right now, the recovering patient was on stage, tearfully thanking my mother. “Dr. Vance is my savior. She didn’t just waive my surgical fees; she took me into her home and gave me a family…” To make room for him, my mother had banned me from coming home for the last six months. Watching them hug on stage, a sharp, crushing pain radiated through my chest. My heart was giving out. I stood up to get my medication. But a producer spotted me and dragged me onto the stage. My mother frowned, annoyed by my lack of a smile. In front of the cameras, she announced that she had officially taken her sponsored student under her wing as her godson. She nudged me to call him “brother.” Blood rushed to my head. I heard my own voice, calm and terrifyingly steady. “Since you have a new son now, I’ll remove myself from this family. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your mother-son bonding.” Chapter 1 I threw the microphone to the floor and turned to leave. Before I could take a step, my mother grabbed my arm. “Julian needs long-term rehabilitation,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You are my son. Acting like this in front of the press? Do you know what people will think? Do you know how this stress could affect his recovery?” I looked at her in disbelief. She didn’t care about my pain. She was terrified that my departure would tarnish the reputation of her shiny new “son.” My father rushed over to block my path. “There are cameras everywhere, Liam. Where is your dignity? Even if you have to fake it, get through the interview.” I was forcefully dragged back in front of the lens and told to apologize to Julian. The three of them held hands—a perfect unit. I looked like a stranger crashing a family portrait. The dam finally broke. I took the crystal award the reporters had brought for my mother and smashed it onto the floor. It shattered into jagged pieces. My mother charged at me, her hand raised to slap me, freezing in mid-air. “How did I raise such an ungrateful wolf?” I stared straight into her eyes. “Ungrateful?” My voice rang out, crystal clear in the suddenly silent auditorium. “When my myocarditis first flared up, you said it was common and told me to drive myself to the ER for an IV.” “But when Julian’s bloodwork was slightly off, you flew in a specialist team from Boston overnight.” The air in the room solidified. Camera flashes went off like strobes. My mother tried to intervene. “Liam, we discuss family matters in private…” “Private?” I laughed, tears streaming down my face without permission. “Three years ago, I was lying in the ER, shaking because every heartbeat felt like a knife. Which one of you came to see me?” “The attending physician suggested admission. You said beds were tight and I should yield to a more critical patient.” “I get it now.” I looked past the cameras at Julian. “The ‘tight bed situation’ was just a reservation for the son you actually care about.” My dad lunged to grab me, but I shook him off. “And you! I’m your biological son! But you knew my heart wouldn’t last another year, and you still agreed to give my matched heart to an outsider?” “What is it? Is this poor scholarship student actually your illegitimate child?” Slap! My mother’s hand finally connected with my face. “That is enough! Apologize to Julian right now!” “Apologize?” I chuckled, tasting blood. “I’ve been in the ICU multiple times, critically ill, and I couldn’t even get a private room because you didn’t want to ‘abuse your power.’” “Your colleagues begged to pull strings for me, but you refused. You said we couldn’t be special.” “So why can you pull strings for an orphan whose condition hadn’t even worsened yet?” I couldn’t understand. Even if she wanted to be selfless, wasn’t a doctor’s job to save lives? I was dying. Why did I always have to be the one to step aside? “Since you love him so much, let him be your child.” Chapter 2 I turned to leave, but a sledgehammer of pain slammed into my chest. I doubled over and vomited a mouthful of bright red blood. When I opened my eyes again, my chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder. Every beat was agony. Through the glass of the ICU, I could hear Dr. Harris, my mom’s colleague, whispering urgently. “This collapse was acute heart failure. With his dilated cardiomyopathy… best case scenario, he has six months. If he has another episode like this…” The ICU door pushed open. My mother walked in, wearing her pristine white coat. Julian was with her, eyes red and puffy, holding a bouquet of flowers. He stood timidly by the door. “You’re awake?” My mother walked to the bedside. There was no concern in her tone, only exhaustion and irritation. “I managed to suppress the story with the press for now, but what you did today was damaging. Julian was cornered by reporters. He almost had a panic attack.” I opened my mouth, but my throat was too dry to make a sound. “Liam… I’m sorry,” Julian stepped forward, tears falling. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have accepted the surgery. I… I’ll give the heart back to you…” “Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped, turning to support him. “The surgery was a success. You’re recovering perfectly. Don’t say stupid things.” She patted Julian’s back with a tenderness I had never experienced. Then she turned her cold gaze back to me. “Look how sensible Julian is. He knows how hard this opportunity was to come by. He does his rehab without complaint. And you? Making a scene in public, making us a laughingstock, putting Julian in a difficult position.” My dad sighed from the corner. “Liam, your mother has a hard job. You need to be more understanding.” “Understanding?” The heart monitor began to beep erratically. “I’ve been understanding for twenty-three years! I understood your career, I understood your patients, I understood your ‘selflessness’!” Dr. Harris rushed in. “Dr. Vance, the patient cannot handle stress right now!” My mother ignored him. “Do you know how hard Julian has had it? Growing up in the foster system, studying his way into med school on scholarships… he never complains because he’s afraid of being a burden. You grew up with a silver spoon. Have we ever mistreated you? Just this one time…” “One time?” I laughed, tears flowing freely now. “When I was ten and hospitalized for the first time, you said the ward was busy and left me with a nurse.” “When I passed out in gym class at fifteen, the school nurse said I needed a specialist. You said grades came first and we’d check in the summer.” “When I was nineteen and diagnosed, you said I was young and could manage it.” Every word felt like glass in my lungs. “But for Julian? You organized a national panel of experts. You got him the VIP suite. You gave him the heart I waited three years for!” Julian started sobbing louder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Dr. Vance, please, give the heart to Liam. I… I can wait…” “What are you waiting for?” I snapped my eyes to him. “Your heart function is near normal now. Are you waiting for me to die so you can perform grief?” “Liam!” My mother shouted. “Watch your mouth! Julian has a good heart!” “A good heart?” I stared at my mother. “Mom, you’re so selfless. So ethical. So willing to sacrifice…” I gasped for air, black spots dancing in my vision, but I had to finish. “When the cross-matching was done, your blood type was a match too. You’re his godmother. Why didn’t you donate your heart to him? Wouldn’t that have made you even greater?” Chapter 3 Deathly silence filled the room. My mother’s face drained of color. Her lips trembled. “You… You…” She pointed a shaking finger at me. “Me what?” I leaned back, numb from the pain. “You said a doctor’s family needs to make sacrifices. You said ‘others before self.’ So donate. Give Julian your heart. I’ll wait for my own. That way, nobody owes anybody anything.” “Insolent! Absolutely insolent!” My father was shaking with rage. “How dare you speak to your mother that way!” Julian dropped to his knees with a thud, wailing. “It’s all my fault! I’ll go find a doctor right now. I’ll ask them to cut it out! My life belongs to Dr. Vance anyway, I’ll give it back to Liam!” He made a show of rushing for the door, but my mother caught him. “Silly child, stop this nonsense!” She hugged Julian tightly, then looked back at me. Her eyes held disappointment, and something that looked terrifyingly like hate. “Liam, I never thought you would become so vicious.” She had clearly lost her composure. “Julian just had major surgery. You want him to extract the heart now? You want to kill him?” “And is it wrong that I want to live?” Dr. Harris couldn’t take it anymore. “Elena, the patient is unstable. He needs quiet…” “He needs to reflect!” My mother cut him off, walking to my bed. “Liam, I am telling you this now: Julian is my son. I will take care of him until he is fully recovered. As for you…” She paused, making a final decision. “When you stabilize and are ready to apologize to Julian, we can talk.” She grabbed Julian’s hand and walked out of the ICU without looking back. My father gave me a complicated look, sighed, and followed them. The door clicked shut. Through the glass, I saw my mother tenderly wiping tears from Julian’s face in the hallway. My father patted his back. Their shadows blended together under the fluorescent lights. A perfect family of three. I lay in the ICU, listening to the fading rhythm of my own heart. Some things are more suffocating than heart failure. Dr. Harris hesitated, then whispered, “Actually… last week, there was a brain-dead donor who was a match for you.” “But… your mother signed the paperwork to transfer that heart to another patient.” I stared at him blankly. “W-Why?” Dr. Harris’s voice trembled. “That patient needed a transplant, yes, but their urgency status was far lower than yours. The entire department felt… it wasn’t right.” It made perfect sense to me. She had to prove she had no bias. To prove she was selfless. To prove her ethics were impeccable. Even if the cost was my life. “Thank you for telling me.” My voice was muffled by the oxygen mask. “Don’t give up,” Dr. Harris said urgently. “I’ve contacted transplant centers in other hospitals. We can figure this out…” “No need.” I shook my head slightly. “Can you get me a paper and pen? I want to write a will and sever legal ties.” I looked at the retreating backs of my parents. “And I need to sign the organ donation forms.” Chapter 4 My parents didn’t show up again. Julian, however, started sending me videos every day. Videos of them redecorating my bedroom for him. Videos of my parents brewing herbal remedies for him personally. Videos of them throwing away my childhood plushie, Mr. Bear. My mom bought me that bear when I was scared alone at night while she worked the graveyard shift. I had dragged that tattered bear through twenty years. Now, I didn’t need it either. “Liam, I feel like Mom and Dad don’t really like you. They’d rather take me on a trip than visit you.” “Can’t you just apologize? Raising you wasn’t easy. You’re so ungrateful.” I stared at the screen as the heart monitor screamed. Finally, I opened TikTok. I changed my handle to @LiamWaitingForAHeart. I posted my medical diagnosis. Then I posted the receipts of my mother’s lies. Finally, I uploaded Julian’s taunting videos. Caption: Under what circumstances does a biological child rank lower than a stranger? Three hours later, my mother stormed in, her hair a mess. “Liam! What did you post?!” She snatched my phone. “Delete it! Delete it now!” The screen was lit up. 999+ shares. Ten thousand comments. “Do you know what you’re doing?!” Her voice was piercing. “Julian has been doxxed! People are calling the scholarship fund! He just had surgery, he can’t handle this stress!” I looked at her calmly. “And me? I’m in the ICU. Can I handle him sending me videos every day telling me to die?” “He’s trying to connect with you!” “Connect?” I smiled. “He’s checking to see when I’ll die so he can fully take my place.” “You…” She raised her hand but forced it down. She took a deep breath, switching to her professional doctor mode. “Liam, you are emotionally unstable. These posts are causing serious damage to the hospital and my reputation. Delete them, issue a public apology, and I won’t pursue this.” “Pursue this?” I whispered. “Mom, how will you pursue it? By cutting off my medical funds again?” Her eyes darted away for a split second. That was my answer. “Dr. Harris,” she turned to her colleague who had rushed in. “As of today, discharge Liam. This hospital does not treat patients who incite harassment.” Dr. Harris was shocked. “Elena! He can’t be discharged in this condition!” “Then transfer him,” she said coldly. “We’re too small a temple for this big god.” She leaned down, her lips close to my ear, her voice ice-cold: “Delete. Apologize. Admit you made it up because you’re mentally unstable. Otherwise, no hospital in this state will take you.” I looked at her face. The face that used to check my fever. The face that once promised to cure me. Now, only threats remained. “Do whatever you want,” I said. She turned to leave. At the door, she looked back. “Liam, don’t blame me for being cruel. You ruined Julian’s life first.” The door slammed. Dr. Harris stood by the bed. After a long time, he whispered, “I can call a hospital out of state…” “No need.” I stared at the ceiling. “Dr. Harris, thank you for everything. But I’m tired.” Truly tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of waiting. The next morning, I processed my discharge against medical advice. The account showed a balance due of $27,000. She had indeed cut off all funding. I transferred the last bit of savings I had to the hospital and signed a promissory note for the rest. Dragging my suitcase out of the inpatient tower, my heart throbbed with agony. “Liam!” My mother’s voice came from behind.

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I had just stepped onto the stage for the company’s holiday gala raffle when my boss, Gavin Chase, shoved a crumpled piece of paper into my hand. “Top Salesman’s exclusive prize! Go on, open it up and show everyone!” he sneered. Under the expectant gaze of the entire company, I unfolded the paper. Scrawled in messy handwriting were the words: Janitorial Duty: Clean all office restrooms for three days. As the room erupted in laughter, Gavin crossed his arms, smirking at me. “Generous, right? I mean, we all know your sales numbers come from sleeping with wealthy cougars. It’s dirty money. To keep things fair for the other hardworking employees, you shouldn’t mind putting in a little extra elbow grease, right?” The laughter turned into a roar. Sarah Sterling, the CEO and my girlfriend of twelve years, stood right next to him. She watched the whole scene unfold. And just like always, she didn’t say a single word to defend me. Everyone expected me to snap. To scream. To break down. Instead, I just nodded calmly. “Okay.” The next day, the company received over 300 cancellation notices for pending real estate closings. The capital chain snapped instantly. Gavin and Sarah begged me to call the buyers back. I smiled and replied, “No thanks. If I save the company again, my performance will be too high. I wouldn’t want to make the other employees feel ‘unbalanced.’” Chapter 1 When I said I accepted the “reward,” the venue went silent for a split second before the laughter redoubled. Gavin laughed the hardest, leaning back, practically wiping tears from his eyes. “See? That’s why he’s the Top Dog! Thickest skin in the game!” I ignored his sarcasm and spoke into the microphone, my voice steady. “I just want to clarify one thing. Since the company has assigned me this janitorial duty, this will be my only task for the next three days. I will not be responsible for any other work.” Gavin paused, looking confused. He hadn’t expected a counter-condition. It was the end of the fiscal year. All the sales targets had been met because of me, but the deals were still in escrow. We were waiting on the clients to finalize their bank transfers. Me stepping away from sales right now was essentially handing him a loaded gun pointed at the company’s revenue. But Gavin thought I was just losing my mind from anger. He didn’t think twice. “Fine! If you don’t want to do sales, don’t. It’s not like the Sales Department is a one-man show. Do you really think Sterling Estates stops spinning without you?” He sneered. “Just focus on the toilets. If I see a single hair on the floor, you’re fired.” I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked off the stage. In the hallway, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my exclusive client group chat—a group known as “The Whales.” [Me: Ladies and Gentlemen, I am facing a position change. Please delay your bank transfers and closing procedures temporarily. Await my further notice.] The moment I hit send, a text from Sarah popped up. [Sarah: Come to my office. We need to talk.] I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and drove home. We fell in love in college. After graduation, at Sarah’s begging, I turned down a job offer with a starting salary of $200k to help her build her real estate brokerage from scratch. She always said, “Once we hit $100 million in revenue, we’ll get married properly.” I believed her. I gave everything to the company. In return, I got ignored and suppressed. Gavin had only been at the company for three months. His sales numbers were a fraction of mine. But because Sarah was obsessed with his “Ivy League background” and “overseas experience,” she bypassed me and made him the Sales Director. And I, the top salesman for three years running, was rewarded with three days of cleaning toilets. Back at the office the next morning, amidst looks of pity and mockery, I walked to the utility closet and put on a janitor’s vest. Just as I picked up a mop, a voice rang out behind me. “Liam, stop!” Chapter 2 It was Sarah. Usually, she pretended we were strangers in the office to “maintain professionalism.” This was the first time she had called out to me publicly. She walked over, her face cold, looking down at me. “I told you to come to my office. Why didn’t you?” “I was busy working,” I said flatly. “Didn’t see it.” It was the excuse she always used on me. Hearing it come from my mouth made her choke on her words. “It’s just a small prank,” she sighed, lowering her voice so others wouldn’t hear. “Do you have to throw a tantrum?” “I know you’re unhappy about Gavin’s little joke, and I know I didn’t step in. But he’s the new Director. He’s boosted morale. If I sided with you in front of everyone, it would undermine his authority. You need to be more understanding of my position.” “You know damn well that wasn’t a reward,” I cut her off. “That was bullying. Pure and simple.” She frowned. “Liam, don’t start.” “And what morale did he boost?” I continued. “Do you think our numbers are up because Gavin sits in his office drinking lattes? If I wasn’t out there in the rain and snow, skipping meals to meet clients, do you think we would have closed a single deal this winter?” Sarah’s face darkened. “Liam, don’t be so arrogant. You act like you hold up Sterling Estates all by yourself.” “If it wasn’t for Gavin’s ‘Warm Winter’ marketing campaign, would we have that much foot traffic? You’re benefiting from his strategy. Don’t act like a martyr.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Gavin’s “Warm Winter” campaign consisted of setting up a folding table outside the office, serving cheap instant coffee, and giving away dollar-store gloves that fell apart in a day. The coffee went cold, and the gloves ended up in the trash down the block. In Sarah’s eyes, that gimmick was genius. And my twelve years of blood and sweat were just me “riding his coattails.” The last thread of affection I held for her snapped. I threw the mop into the bucket. It landed with a loud splash. “Fine,” I said cold. “Since you think Gavin is the savior of this company, I quit. And we’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” Chapter 3 We had been together for over a decade. No matter how disappointed I was, I had never threatened to leave. Sarah stared at me, eyes wide with shock. “Liam, are you insane? Do you know what you’re saying?” Her shock quickly turned to anger. “We are inches away from the revenue goal I promised. Just 300 more closings and we hit the target. If you mess this up now, I won’t give you a second chance!” I didn’t waste another breath. I walked out. When I got home, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Liam! Are you out of your mind?” he screamed the moment I picked up. “How dare you fight with Sarah? Go apologize to her right now!” “You’re a man in his thirties! You have what you have because of her! Don’t be ungrateful!” His voice dropped lower. “Sarah is young, beautiful, and rich. A woman like that sticking with you for twelve years is a blessing! If you piss her off, who’s going to want you? You need a capable woman to hold you up. Go beg for forgiveness and lock down that marriage. Stop acting like a child!” “Without Sarah, you are nothing!” I held the phone away from my ear, laughing bitterly. For years, Sarah had bought my dad’s loyalty with cheap gifts—cigarettes, whiskey, a red envelope here and there. He treated her like a savior and me like a parasite. “Dad,” I said calmly. “I’m done listening.” I hung up. I opened my phone to the client group chat. [Me: Everyone, I have officially resigned from Sterling Estates. If you have any real estate needs in the future, you can find me personally.] Less than a minute later, the group exploded. [Mr. Henderson: Liam is leaving? What about our escrow? I only trust you, Liam. I don’t trust that company.] [Mrs. Lee: Exactly. We chose Sterling because of your expertise. If you go, we go.] [TechCEO_Mike: I don’t care what logo is on your business card. I follow the talent. Liam, wherever you land, let us know.] [InvestCorp_J: My deal hasn’t closed yet. Liam, tell me where to sign the cancellation papers. I’ll move the portfolio to your new firm.] Messages poured in. No doubts. Just unconditional trust. Twelve years of devotion meant nothing to Sarah. But to these clients, my honesty meant everything. It wasn’t that my efforts were wasted. It was just that Sarah wasn’t worthy of them. I wiped a tear from my eye and typed: [Thank you all for the trust. Once I settle on my next move, you will be the first to know.] Chapter 4 Just then, a text came in from an unknown number. It was marked as “Executive Recruiter.” [Mr. Cole, hello. We’ve been tracking your reputation in the industry. We heard you might be on the market. Our client is prepared to offer double your current salary and a Director title. Interested?] I replied: [Let’s talk.] I slept better that night than I had in years. The next morning, I went to the office to pack my personal belongings. I ignored the whispers. Gavin strutted up to my desk, a smug grin on his face. “Hey, Liam, buddy. Can’t take a joke?” “Just because you had to scrub a toilet, you break up with the CEO? A little dramatic, don’t you think?” He pulled a red envelope from his pocket. “Tell you what. I’ll be the bigger man. Here’s a personal bonus from me to smooth things over.” He handed me the envelope. “There’s fifty bucks in there. Take yourself out to lunch.” Fifty dollars. The company gala had given out thousands in cash prizes to random interns. The top salesman got fifty bucks and a mop. I slapped his hand away. It wasn’t a hard hit, but Gavin shrieked like he’d been shot and threw himself backward, crashing into my desk. “Liam! I was just trying to be nice! Why did you hit me?!” Sarah rushed out of her office. “Liam! My patience has limits!” she yelled. “Apologize to Gavin right now or get out!” I shook her hand off my arm. “Sarah, is your memory failing? I quit yesterday. I’m just here to get my box.” Sarah’s face twisted. She blocked my path to the elevator. “You can leave, but the client list stays. Those 300 pending deals belong to Sterling Estates.” I stopped and looked at her. “Fine.” I reached into my box, pulled out a stack of files, and dropped them on the nearest desk. “But I’ll remind you. Those 300 clients signed because of me. Not because of Sterling Estates. And definitely not because of you or Gavin.” Sarah laughed. “You have quite the ego, Liam. Without the company platform, you’re nobody. You think they’ll follow you? Don’t flatter yourself.” Gavin chimed in from the floor. “Exactly! We’ll take over these accounts and close them by Friday. You think the company stops turning without you?” I didn’t argue. I picked up my box and walked to the elevator. As the doors slid open, a receptionist came sprinting down the hall, face pale as a ghost. “Ms. Sterling! Gavin! It’s a disaster!” “The phones won’t stop ringing! It’s the clients! They’re all canceling! Every single one!”

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With only four hours left to submit my final college commitment, I discovered that Chloe, my parents’ adopted daughter, had hacked into my account. She had changed my acceptance from the local university to a school thousands of miles away in the freezing North. Furious, I confronted her in the living room. “Why would you do that?” Before Chloe could even open her mouth to spin a lie, my brother, Liam—who had always doted on her—stepped in front of her like a shield. “Relax, Harper. It was just a harmless prank,” Liam scoffed. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” “Just log back in and change it back to the local state college. Problem solved.” My parents, who had always favored her, checked their watches impatiently. “Honestly, Harper, do you have to be so loud over something so small? Look, you’ve scared Chloe.” “Alright, move aside. We’re running late.” My mother adjusted her pearls. “You know we promised to take Chloe shopping for her birthday. If you keep blocking the door, how are we supposed to go buy her gifts?” They pushed past me, ushering a smirking Chloe out the door. I stood in the silent hallway for a long time, foolishly hoping they might turn around. I waited until evening. They didn’t come back. Finally, I saw a notification pop up on my phone. Chloe had posted a photo on Instagram. It was a perfect family portrait: Mom, Dad, and Liam, all surrounding her with a mountain of presents. The caption read: [Mom, Dad, and my big brother said that birthdays only count when you spend them with the people you love most. ❤️] I stared at the screen. It hit me then. I had never been loved by them. Not even for a second. I walked back to my computer. I didn’t change the commitment back to the local school. I closed the browser, confirmed the enrollment to the university in the North, and silently began to pack my bags. Just as Chloe wished, I would go thousands of miles away. I just hope that later, when I’m gone, the family that favored her so much won’t regret it. 1 This wasn’t Chloe’s first “prank.” And this wasn’t the first time Mom, Dad, and Liam had broken a promise to me. Ever since they found me and brought me back home when I was thirteen, they had never celebrated my birthday. Not once. They bought Chloe designer dresses. They ordered three-tier custom cakes for her. They took her on VIP trips to Disney World. They conveniently forgot that her birthday was the same day as mine. I used to hope, with a pathetic sort of desperation, that maybe they would celebrate me too. Just a little. It would have been proof that I mattered. Finally, today—the day I graduated high school and turned eighteen—I had worked up the courage to ask for one thing. I asked if we could celebrate my birthday together. A real birthday. For me. Not just me standing in the corner eating a leftover slice of Chloe’s cake. When I made the request, Dad looked genuinely confused. He looked at Mom and asked, “Have we really never celebrated Harper’s birthday?” Mom’s face went pale as she tried to recall a single instance. She couldn’t. Because it was true. I had been back for five years, sharing a birthday with their beloved adopted daughter, and they had never once remembered me. Liam actually looked guilty for a second. “Sorry, Harper. We messed up,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But you know how it is. Chloe is different. She doesn’t have any blood relatives besides us.” “We naturally worry about her more. We just overlooked you.” “Tell you what,” he promised. “This time, we’ll buy you tons of gifts. We’ll make up for all the years we missed, okay?” Chloe was adopted from the orphanage after I was kidnapped as a toddler. Technically, they were her only family. I didn’t mind Chloe. Before I was found, I even thought having a sister would be nice. But on my first day back in this mansion, Chloe got sick. She had a fever and “convulsions.” It lasted three days. My bio-parents and Liam were terrified. The doctor said it was “stress-induced” and caused by “excessive worry.” From that day on, the Carters withdrew any affection they might have had for me. They poured it all into her. Even though Chloe and I went to the same high school, they never came to my parent-teacher conferences. They said they had always gone to Chloe’s, and if they suddenly went to mine, Chloe might overthink it and get sick again. So, the rumor that I was an orphan spread through the school. When my grades were bad, people whispered, “Well, she’s an orphan, no one raises her right.” When my grades were top-tier, they sneered, “Poor thing, grades are all she has.” Those rumors clung to me for years, like damp clothes on a rainy day—cold, heavy, and impossible to shake off. But I thought I was finally going to shake them off today. My family was supposed to give me their sincere blessings on my eighteenth birthday. I had planned to post a photo of us, happy and smiling, to shut down everyone who called me a charity case. I wanted to show them I had a family. That I was cared for. But now… They had bailed on me. Again. 2 I stared at Chloe’s Instagram post for a long time. Suddenly, the question I had wanted to scream for five years—Why? Why her and not me?—had an answer. I was their blood. I was their daughter. But they only cared about Chloe. The answer was in her caption: Birthdays only count when you spend them with the people you love. They simply loved her. Love has nothing to do with DNA. It has nothing to do with wealth. It only exists where people choose to put it. So, it was time for me to go find the people I truly loved. 3 I logged back into the college portal. I didn’t just accept the school in the North that Chloe had picked to get rid of me. I declined the generic state school she had selected and instead committed to MIT—the prestigious university in Boston I had secretly been accepted to. My grades had always been excellent. My homeroom teacher had begged me to aim for the Ivy Leagues. I had turned her down originally. Mom had said she wanted both Chloe and me to stay local for college. She said she couldn’t bear for us to be far away. Now I realized she just couldn’t bear for Chloe to be far away. She only said it to me because I happened to be standing in the room. After confirming my enrollment, I used the money I had saved from academic scholarships to buy a train ticket. Destination: A small town in the Midwest. Chloe was right about one thing. Birthdays should be spent with the people you love. And life should be spent with them, too. I spent five years trying to fit into the Carter family. I broke my habit of sleeping in. I woke up early to make breakfast. The Carters didn’t like “peasant food,” so I learned to bake sourdough and make artisanal sandwiches. But every time I cooked, Chloe claimed she got food poisoning. I learned to brew their fancy coffee just the way Chloe did. But one time, I slipped, and a drop of hot water hit Chloe’s hand. It was barely red. But Liam lost his mind. He slapped me across the face. The look in his eyes wasn’t that of a brother. It was the look of an enemy. “Harper, are you done being a psycho?” he yelled. “You can’t even brew coffee right? You clumsy, country bumpkin. And your food? It’s disgusting. You make Chloe sick every time.” He pulled Chloe into his arms, soothing her. “Don’t worry, Chloe. We won’t eat anything she touches ever again.” “It’s filthy.” 4 I had opened my mouth to defend myself, but no words came out. I lived in the country, yes. But my Mom and Dad—my foster parents—were hardworking, fastidious people. Our plates weren’t fine china, but Mom scrubbed them until they shined. I didn’t have many clothes, but they always smelled like fresh soap and sunshine. When I was little, the neighbors loved having me over. They said I was the cleanest, sweetest kid on the block. I wasn’t dirty. But my biological parents’ words nailed me to a cross of shame. They looked at me with cold, judging eyes. “Harper, your brother is right.” “You just came back from that backwater town. You have bad habits. But you’re a Carter now. For God’s sake, learn some hygiene.” “Look at how sick you made your sister.” “We don’t expect you to be elegant, but try not to be so… embarrassing.” Their words were daggers. I stood there, frozen. So, I was embarrassing. I was a “hick.” I was… dirty. I don’t remember how that day ended. I just remember apologizing to Chloe. I promised never to enter the kitchen again, never to “contaminate” their food. Later, they took Chloe out to a Michelin-star restaurant to cheer her up. I stayed in the empty mansion, alone. I sat at the kitchen island and ate the sandwiches I had made. Every single one. As I stared at the empty plate, I finally understood. Some homes you can never fit into. And true family isn’t something you have to beg for. My foster parents, Mom and Dad Miller. And my older brother, Ben. They loved me naturally. They never thought my cooking was dirty. They loved the tea I brewed. They loved me. And I loved them.

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My parents died in a plane crash. The family company went bankrupt. My older brother had a mental breakdown from the trauma. To keep the only family I had left, I went crazy trying to make money. For three years, I endured hell. I was drugged and tortured by my brother’s arch-nemesis. I was treated like a toy by his so-called “best friends.” I did things… unspeakable things. I didn’t care. As long as they paid me. As long as I could afford my brother’s treatment. I was willing to be a dog if that’s what it took. But just as I finished my latest “job” and prepared to visit my brother in the hospital, I saw him. Sitting in a Michelin-star restaurant. With my “dead” parents. “Julian, you’ve been playing dead and crazy long enough,” my father said, swirling his wine. “Your sister looks like a skeleton. This punishment game should end.” Julian laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard in years. “Looking like a skeleton is what she deserves. Who told her to keep pushing for Lily to go back to her birth mother? She made Lily so depressed she almost killed herself.” “But you’re right. Three years is enough. For her birthday next week, let’s give her a surprise. We’ll say you survived the crash but had amnesia, and Lily found you. Then I’ll miraculously recover my sanity. She’ll be so grateful to Lily. We’ll be one big happy family again.” My mother frowned slightly. “That story has a lot of holes.” Julian shrugged, unbothered. “It’s Chloe. She’s not exactly bright. She’s eighteen and hasn’t stepped foot in a classroom in years. We can fool her.” … I stood frozen, listening to their conversation. It felt like there was a hole in my heart, dripping blood drop by drop. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But my body was so exhausted I didn’t even have the strength for tears. The three of them continued eating, the picture of harmony. Until a voice cut through the air. “Long time no see, Mr. and Mrs. Vance. Are you done playing house with Julian?” At the sound of that voice, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. I knew that voice. It belonged to Lucas Thorne. My brother’s sworn enemy. The man who, to get back at Julian, had me drugged and locked in a dark room for three days and nights. “Chloe is truly pathetic,” Lucas drawled, walking up to their table. “She barely had a few good days back in this family before she started selling herself to support you all. Willing to be a dog for money. Honestly, she would have been better off never coming back.” My brother’s face darkened. “Stop fear-mongering. She’s just working part-time jobs. She hasn’t stooped to being anyone’s dog.” Lucas smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Is that so? Just working jobs, huh?” “I’m just speaking generally. There was this silly girl whose family went broke. I felt bad for her, so I gave her some… substances. We had a great time together for a few days.” “When she woke up, she didn’t cry or scream. She just asked for money…” He implied everything without saying anything explicitly. After my brother’s “accident,” Lucas was the first to kick us while we were down. I had just paid Julian’s hospital bills and hired a nurse when Lucas kidnapped me. He locked me in a basement, stripped me bare. He drugged me. Forced himself on me. Filmed it. “Your brother is such a high-and-mighty golden boy,” he had whispered. “So I’ll break his little sister.” “Tell me, if he sees his precious sister screaming under me, will he go even crazier?” I was terrified he would show the video to Julian. I bit my tongue until it bled to keep from making a sound. When he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, he found new ways to torture me. My entire body, except for my face, was covered in scars. Chapter 1 Julian sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. “Only asking for money? That’s no different from prostitution. How cheap.” “Women like that are a dime a dozen. God knows what diseases she has. Only you, Lucas, would have a stomach strong enough for that.” “Just a warning: she’s young, but playing around like that? Careful you don’t catch something.” Lucas smiled, a cold, humorless expression. “Yeah. She really doesn’t have any self-respect.” His gaze drifted past the decorative plants and landed squarely on me. My father, knowing the bad blood between the two men, tried to smooth things over. “Young men like to play, it’s normal. Just don’t ruin your health over it.” “If you like her, just keep her as a canary in a cage. Clean, available whenever you want. No need to mess around with street trash.” Lucas nodded slowly, as if enlightened. “You’re right, sir.” “I really should keep her close.” My heart hammered against my ribs. A cold sweat broke out on my back. The wounds I thought had healed began to throb with phantom pain. Julian noticed the worry on our mother’s face and puffed out his chest. “Mom, don’t worry. My plan is flawless. I asked my best friends to look after Chloe.” “Chloe isn’t like that loose woman Lucas is talking about. She wouldn’t sell her body.” “If you don’t believe me, I can call them right now…” He glared at Lucas and dialed one of his “best friends.” “Hey, Tyler? It’s Julian. I asked you to take care of my sister. everything’s good, right?” On the other end, Tyler’s voice sounded forced. “Julian… yeah. Taking care of Chloe? Of course. I’ve been… taking great care of her. She’s very grateful.” “I have to say, your sister is so obedient. She’ll do anything for you.” Julian looked smug. “Of course. Since she came back to the Vance family, I’ve been the one who cared for her most. Kids like her, who never got love growing up… once they taste a little kindness, they’ll sacrifice everything.” “Just let her suffer a bit with work, then stop. She’s still my biological sister. She needs to come back and be the Vance family heiress eventually.” “You… still consider her your sister?” Tyler slipped up, then quickly corrected himself. “Right, right. Whatever you say, Julian.” Julian made two more calls. Both friends confirmed they would continue to “take care” of me. Until Julian decided the game was over. I smiled. A bitter, broken smile. Is Julian an idiot? How could he think “taking care of her” meant anything good coming from them? After Lucas tortured me, I was terrified he would come back. So I went to Julian’s friends for help. Instead, I was blackmailed. Tyler and the others—Julian’s “brothers”—used the recordings Lucas made to threaten me. They wanted me to be their mistress. Their toy. They had played with every kind of woman, but never one from their own social circle. Never a fallen heiress. I became their prey. After every session, they threw money at me. I lived a life worse than death. And all of this… all of it was because Julian wanted to punish me. Punish me for taking the place of his “real” sister, the girl he loved like family. I turned to leave. I couldn’t breathe. But someone slammed into me from behind. I fell hard, my forehead cracking against the marble floor. “Watch where you’re going!” Lily shrieked, clutching her arm. The commotion drew the attention of the Vance trio. “Are you blind? Are you trying to kill me?” Lily raised her foot, clad in a sharp stiletto heel, and stomped down on my hand. Blood instantly gushed from the wound. I tried to pull my hand back, but Julian rushed over and kicked me square in the chest. “Since when do Michelin restaurants let beggars in?” “This filth got blood on my sister’s shoes!” “Manager! Where is the manager?” Chapter 2 The manager rushed over, bowing apologetically. “I’m so sorry, sir, miss. I’ll have her removed immediately. Today’s meal is on the house. Please let me know if you need anything else.” Lily glanced down. When she saw my face, her eyes lit up with excitement. “We don’t need your charity.” “Since this lowlife dirtied my shoes, make her kneel and lick the blood off.” The manager hesitated. But Lucas walked over, the picture of elegance and refinement. “I agree with Miss Lily,” he said smoothly. “It’s only right that she cleans up her mess.” He stepped forward, grabbed a handful of my hair, and dragged me to Lily’s feet. He leaned down, whispering in my ear. “If you keep your mouth shut, I might just have to ‘discipline’ you right here.” I opened my mouth, trembling. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat. Lily watched with glee, her eyes shining with the thrill of humiliation. When her heel was clean, she finally pulled her foot away as if granting a great mercy. She threw herself into my parents’ arms. “Mommy, Daddy, I missed you so much!” “Studying abroad was so tiring. You have to stay home and keep me company.” Blood and tears blurred my vision. Julian had told me Lily was sold off to pay our debts. I was consumed by guilt. I remembered my foster parents calling me a jinx. I believed my return had caused the Vance family’s ruin. So I worked myself to the bone. I sold my soul to buy Lily back. Even though my parents were “gone.” I wanted Julian to have a complete family again. I was dragged out of the restaurant by security. People stared. Some looked at me like I was a cockroach. Some looked with pity. Lucas followed leisurely behind. Once the security guards let go, he grabbed my hair again and shoved me into his car. Back to the familiar basement. He dragged me to the sink and scrubbed my face roughly. “I love destroying things that are full of life,” he hissed. “Deceived by the brother you loved. Deceived by your parents. And yet you took their lies for truth and willingly destroyed yourself.” “Tell me… is this game fun? Is it fun?” I didn’t sleep that night. The next day, he dressed me up like a human being and dumped me in front of the mental hospital where Julian was “staying.” The guard at the gate looked at me with concern. “Chloe, you look terrible.” “Don’t work so hard. You need to take care of yourself.” I nodded numbly and walked to Julian’s ward. He was wandering around in his hospital pajamas. When he saw my reflection in the mirror, he instantly switched into “crazy mode.” He pinched me. Bit me. Screamed that I was a curse. After a while, he would “lucidly” apologize, weeping. “Chloe… Chloe, leave me alone.” “Don’t waste your life on me.” He was such a good actor. I let him bite me. Let him hit me. Watched him cry. I felt nothing. “No need to apologize,” I said quietly. “Brother, I saved enough money. You can get the treatment soon. Your favorite sister will come back to you.” “No one will ever disturb your happy family again.” Julian looked moved. He took the bank card from my hand. Then his eyes caught the mangled wound on the back of my hand. “Chloe, your hand…” I pulled it back. “You can’t make money without getting hurt.” He sensed something was wrong, but he didn’t dare ask. He just gave a hollow instruction. “Take care of yourself.” I left. The moment I walked out, he got into a waiting car. My phone buzzed. A text from Lily. Following the address, I arrived at a riverside villa. It wasn’t just the Vances. Lily’s rich friends were there too. A welcome back party. Someone mistook me for hired help and gave me a waitress uniform. I put it on and walked in. My parents gifted Lily jewelry worth millions. Julian handed her a contract transferring ownership of a subsidiary company. And my bank card… the money I bled for… Julian placed it in Lily’s palm. “Chloe saved this for three years. Take it. Use it for pocket money.” I laughed. A dry, rasping sound. Chapter 3 Three years of selling my body, my dignity, my health. Handed over to the person I hated most like it was spare change. It was hilarious. Truly. I turned to leave, but my path was blocked. Tyler and the others stood there, smirking. “Lily was right. You really came to snitch.” “You b*tch. Trying to ruin our friendship with Julian?” My phone buzzed again. A text from Lily. [Serve my brother’s friends well. Don’t be ungrateful.] “Chloe, you haven’t hung out with us in a while,” Tyler leered. “Today’s a celebration. Come on, let’s have some fun.” I knocked over a vase, smashing it toward them, and ran into the crowd. It was a party. If I caused a scene, people would notice. I could escape. I was almost there. But Tyler tackled me. He slammed my face into the floor. Hearing the commotion, Julian walked over from the main group. He frowned at his frantic friends. “What are you doing?” “Bullying a waitress?” I opened my mouth to scream, but Tyler clamped his hand over my mouth. “This waitress tried to seduce me. A classic badger game. I was just teaching her a lesson.” I couldn’t speak. I used every ounce of strength to grab Julian’s pant leg. He was about to kick my hand away when he saw the wound. The one Lily gave me yesterday. “Her hand…” Tyler laughed nervously. “People like her get hurt all the time, right?” “True.” Julian didn’t question it. “Tyler, keep it down. I thought about setting you up with Chloe, but she’s too dirty now. I won’t insult you like that.” Tyler smirked. “Got it.” Lily called out from behind him, and Julian turned to leave. I was gagged and dragged upstairs. I heard my father’s voice. “What are you boys doing?” A spark of hope ignited. Maybe Dad would save me. But his next words pushed me into the abyss. “Don’t kill anyone.” I was thrown into a room. The men surrounded me, expecting me to submit like before. I lay there quietly. Like a puppet with its strings cut. They hit me. Cursed me. I took it in silence. “Boring. She’s like a corpse.” “Take some photos and let’s go. She’s broken anyway.” They posed me, snapped pictures, and left, locking the door from the outside. I took out my phone. I found Julian’s contact. I sent one message. [If there is a next life, Brother… please don’t come find me.] If you don’t find me, you can’t give me hope. If I don’t have hope, maybe my life won’t be this tragic. I walked to the balcony like a ghost. I looked at the sunset. I reached out, wanting to touch it. I desperately wanted to grab that last bit of warmth. I leaned out too far. Gravity took over. The world spun. From noise to silence. Chapter 4 The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground drew attention. But few people cared enough to check. A servant went to look, then reported back to Julian. “It’s a woman who fell. Wearing a waitress uniform. Clothes are torn.” “Looks like she was just… used by someone.” Julian immediately thought of Tyler’s group. He didn’t want a scandal, especially with business partners involved. “Get rid of the body. Find a quiet place and dump it. If she’s found, it’ll look like a hit-and-run or a body dump. Nothing to do with us.” The servant nodded and went to handle it. Turning back to Lily, Julian resumed his gentle demeanor. “Is there anything else you want to do now that you’re back? I can arrange it.” “The entertainment industry is fun these days. Want me to open an agency for you? You can scout handsome actors.” He spoke of opening a company like buying candy. Whatever Lily wanted, he would give. Because in his heart, Lily was his sister. And I… the one stolen for eighteen years… was just a stranger with the same blood. Even if this stranger sold her soul to the devil for him. He didn’t care. As long as Lily was happy, nothing else mattered. My bones were shattered. Blood bubbled from my mouth. The servant looked at my mangled face and sighed. “Poor thing. Next time, don’t try to mix with the rich. Their hands are always bloody.” “I’ll dump you near the highway. Try to call for help. Whether you live or die is up to fate.” Another servant shoved him aside and threw me into the trunk like a sack of garbage. “Who cares? She’s damaged goods. Dead is dead.” “If she wanted to kill herself, who can she blame?” Suddenly, Julian felt a wave of panic. Mom found him, looking worried. “Julian, I don’t know why, but my heart is racing.” “You said the game is ending. Why didn’t you bring Chloe today?” “You don’t think… something happened to her?” Julian quickly reassured her. “I saw her at the hospital this morning. The game officially ends tomorrow. You’ll see her then.” Tomorrow was my birthday. He planned to surprise me then. He reached into his pocket for his phone. He had felt it vibrate earlier but ignored it. The message list was empty. Unbeknownst to him, Lily had already accessed his cloud account and deleted my final text. Frowning, Julian dialed my number. No answer. Was I still working? He was confused. He had the money now. Why was I still hustling? My body was dumped on the border between the suburbs and the city. I lay on dry grass and rocks. I had landed face down. When the car drove away, I used the last of my strength to turn over. Breathing was agony. Dried blood crusted my lips. I stared up at the night sky. My memories played like a movie reel. I remembered when I first came back to the Vances. I was skinny, scarred. Julian had been furious on my behalf. “We treated their daughter like a princess, and this is how they treated my sister?” Lily had cried then. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know my bio-parents were like that! It’s all my fault Chloe suffered!” She cried so pitifully that no one dared defend me. That night, a maid rushed downstairs. Lily had slit her wrists. “Master! Madam! Miss Lily hurt herself!” She was rushed to the hospital. When she woke up, she apologized again. “I just wanted to atone. I should repay Chloe with my life.” My father thought I had bullied her. He made me kneel. Eight hours a day, until Lily came home. That wasn’t the end. It was the beginning. When Lily returned, Julian gave her a pink diamond. The next day, it was in my drawer. She cried to me with red eyes. “Chloe, I know you suffered, but everything in this house belongs to you and Julian. Why steal the diamond Julian gave me?” Julian found it in my room. He slapped me hard. “The Vance family has never had a thief.” “Those people really raised you crooked.” I was sent to juvenile detention for three months. Then came the plane crash. Julian’s breakdown. The frozen assets. I remembered Julian’s initial kindness and couldn’t bear to leave him. So I started earning money. I thought Lily was suffering with debtors. I tried to find her. But she was living the high life abroad. From start to finish, I was the only one in hell. The party ended. The blood stain was scrubbed clean. Julian stared at his silent phone. No messages. An unsettling feeling grew in his chest.

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