The first thing I did after my rebirth was bind my daughter Zoey Morgan to a pain-exchange system with a pig that was about to die from illness. I did this because in my previous life, Zoey was born with a disease that made her skin as fragile as paper. Her entire body was covered in festering, oozing sores, and even her throat was filled with blisters. She cried in agony all night long from the pain. Back then, I quit my job and spent every day changing Zoey’s bandages, helping her eat, drink, and use the bathroom. Watching her lie in that hospital bed, suffering so much she didn’t want to live, broke my heart so completely I nearly cried myself blind. Until one day, my husband Alexander Morgan told me he’d found a pain-exchange system that could save Zoey. However, this system could only be bound to women. To save Zoey, I didn’t hesitate to bind with the system and transferred all her festering wounds onto my own body. But just as I was celebrating Zoey’s return to health, Alexander brought a woman named Bella Chavez right in front of me. He said, “The person I’ve always loved is Bella. If it weren’t for Zoey being sick and needing you to bind with the exchange system, do you think I would’ve even looked at you, let alone married you? Only bindable to women? That was all a lie I told you, you fool.” I was absolutely shocked, but I still dragged my disease-ridden body to protect Zoey, terrified that Alexander’s mistress might hurt her. But Zoey kicked me to the ground in disgust and stood alongside Alexander’s mistress. She said, “Someone with rotting, oozing skin like you thinks she deserves to be my mom? You still don’t know, do you? Your real daughter was thrown away by Dad the night she was born and replaced with me. To make you willingly bind with my system, I had to stomach calling you ‘Mom’ for over ten years.” Later, they abandoned me in an old house and left me to starve to death. Before I died, maggots crawled all over my entire body. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment when Alexander was trying to convince me to bind with Zoey’s pain-exchange system. ***** That familiar voice rang in my ears: “Abigail, this pain-exchange system took me so much effort to find. This is our only way to save Zoey. It’s just that you’ll have to suffer for it.” Abigail Sanchez is my name. Alexander looked at me with fake, anxious eyes, waiting for me to nod in agreement. Looking at his hypocritical act filled me with rage. This was exactly how he’d been in my previous life. When Zoey’s critical condition landed her in the ICU, Alexander pretended to be so anxious he had a brain hemorrhage and was also hospitalized. Before going into surgery, while I was panicking, he suggested I bind with the pain-exchange system, saying it was the only way to save Zoey. Back then, to restore Zoey’s health, I bound with the system. But what was the result? I let out a cold laugh, looked at Alexander, and asked, “Zoey isn’t just my child. What gives you the right to make me bind with the system?” Alexander hadn’t expected me to refuse. After all, to care for Zoey, I’d even quit my great job as a company manager, and I usually treated Zoey like my life itself, unable to bear seeing her suffer even a little. But he quickly regained his composure and pulled out his prepared excuse: “You and Zoey are both the people I love most. I can’t bear to see either of you suffer. Do you think I want you to bind with it? It’s just that this damn system can only bind to women. I have no choice.” I said coldly, “Really? Such an advanced system would also favor men over women? Maybe it’s lying to you.” I walked to Alexander’s hospital bed and snatched the vial of blood from his hands, preparing to drip it into his mouth. The binding procedure for the pain-exchange system was simple—you just had to drink blood from near Zoey’s heart. Alexander’s face went pale with terror, and for a moment he forgot to dodge. It wasn’t until I grabbed his chin, ready to force-feed him the blood, that he suddenly rolled off the bed and frantically wiped his mouth, terrified of actually drinking Zoey’s blood. “Are you trying to kill me?” Alexander said angrily. I looked at him mockingly: “What are you afraid of? Didn’t you say this system can only bind to women?” Alexander’s face was ashen as he stammered, “I’m afraid of wasting Zoey’s blood. Zoey’s body is very weak. Her blood is precious.” Afraid I might cause more trouble, Alexander quickly scolded me: “I’ve never seen a mother like you. Zoey is lying in that hospital bed barely hanging on. Faced with the only chance to save her, you still have the heart to mess around. I think you’re deliberately trying to kill her. “I’ve long felt that you don’t care about Zoey or this family. Do you think Zoey is holding you back? Have you been wanting to find another man and have a healthy child? “Anyway, Zoey’s disease can’t be cured. If you as her mother don’t want to save her, I won’t care anymore either. When she dies from her illness, I’ll divorce you, you vicious woman. If you want to have more children, go ahead. My daughter and I won’t burden you.” In the past, when I was successful in my career, Alexander had used this kind of psychological manipulation on me. Back then, my heart felt sour and guilty, thinking I really hadn’t done enough, so I gave up my good job and quit to care for Zoey. Because of her illness, Zoey often threw tantrums. After screaming at me each time, she would hug me and cry while apologizing, saying in her sweet voice, “In this world, I love Mommy the most.” I was psychologically controlled by her sweet poison for over ten years, and I cared for her for over ten years. Thinking about it now, I realize they were both equally selfish and cruel. Alexander urgently pressed me: “Hey, what are you spacing out for? Hurry up and bind with the system! Do you really want to watch Zoey die from her illness?” His voice pulled me back from my wandering thoughts. I looked at him and gave him a gentle smile: “Alright. I’ll go bind with it right now.” Alexander had just handed me the blood vial when he was wheeled into the operating room. He didn’t watch me drink Zoey’s blood, so he wouldn’t know that I immediately took the vial to a pig farm on the outskirts of town. I asked the pig farm owner, “Do you have any pigs here that are about to die from illness?”

I had just left the pig farm when I received a call from Zoey. She was crying on the phone, saying she missed me and asking if I could come back to be with her. Zoey said over the phone: “Mom, I feel so awful. Can you please come back and see me? I’m sorry, Mom. I know you’re already exhausted, and I shouldn’t be bothering you like this. But I really miss you so much. I don’t want to be separated from you. “Mom, I’m in so much pain. Am I going to die? But I haven’t been able to take care of you yet. I really don’t want to die. I want to stay with you forever and make you happy.” Hearing these heartbreakingly mature words, I took a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain in my chest like needles piercing my heart. I had raised Zoey for over ten years. She was born without intact skin, and even the slightest movement could cause her body to fester and ooze pus. I had always taken careful care of her. When she was little and couldn’t drink milk, I fed her drop by drop with a straw. As she grew older and cried in pain every day, I applied medicine to her wounds over and over again. Seeing how hard I worked, Zoey would touch my face with her tiny hands, saying she felt sorry for me and swearing that she would treat me well in the future so I wouldn’t have to work so hard anymore. I had loved and protected her with all my might. But why did I end up raising someone who didn’t know how to be grateful? Fortunately, from now on, I would never have to endure her bad temper again or suffer for her sake. When I arrived at the hospital, there was another woman standing by Zoey’s bedside. I immediately recognized her as Alexander’s mistress and Zoey’s biological mother, Bella. Seeing me walk in, Zoey, who had just been chatting happily with Bella, immediately pushed Bella away and looked at me with a few tears in her eyes. She said: “Mom, you’re finally here. Dad said you don’t care about me and don’t take good care of me, so he specifically found a woman. He also said that if you don’t work harder to find a way to cure my illness, he’ll divorce you and let Ms. Chavez be my mom. “I don’t want anyone else to be my mom. Besides, I believe you’ll definitely find a way to cure my illness. After all, you’re the person who loves me most in the world.” If this had been before, I would have been moved by Zoey’s understanding while thanking Bella for helping, just like every time in my previous life, being manipulated by these three terrible people. But this time, I just smiled coldly. I said: “Fine. Anyway, you’ve already bound to the exchange system, so you won’t need me anymore. You can let whoever you want be your mom.” Hearing my words, Zoey’s eyes widened with excitement. She asked: “Really? You really helped me bind to the system? All these disgusting ulcers and green pus on my body will transfer to you?” After saying this, Zoey seemed to realize she was too excited, so she coughed and then put on a frail appearance. She said: “All these years, you haven’t worked at all, eating my dad’s food, drinking what he provides—you might as well have been sucking his blood. If you hadn’t refused to earn money, Dad wouldn’t have been so exhausted that he had a brain hemorrhage this time. “Mom, I don’t mean anything by it. I’m also very grateful that you’ve taken care of me all these years. It’s just that I think Dad is very pitiful. I feel sorry for him.” I almost burst out laughing from anger. Alexander was pitiful? When I married Alexander, I already had a successful career and achievements. The house and car were both bought with my own money before marriage. For the following ten-plus years, I had been living off my previous savings and never asked Alexander for a single cent. But what about Alexander? He took away my healthy biological daughter and abandoned her, forcing me to quit my job to take care of the child he had with his mistress. All these years, he never took care of Zoey for even a single day. I had been too tolerant and generous with them, so much so that they ate my food, used my things, and still scolded me, saying I was spending their money. I looked at Zoey coldly and said: “The system just got bound, and you’re already feeling sorry for your dad who never did anything? Aren’t you afraid that in the end, your illness won’t be cured and you’ll be crying and begging me to take care of you?” Zoey and Bella exchanged glances, then both burst into laughter. Zoey, who had always been obedient and understanding, now seemed like a completely different person. She looked at me with a mocking expression and said: “Beg you? Don’t be ridiculous! Once the system is bound, the illness on my body will gradually transfer to yours. Me beg you? When the time comes, you’ll be the one begging me! “Mom, the person Dad likes isn’t you at all. He’s been with you all these years—that’s already more than you deserve. Why don’t you just help Dad and Ms. Chavez be together?” Bella, who had been silent until now, also said mockingly: “If you don’t divorce Alexander, he’ll be your primary guardian. When you’ve transferred all of Zoey’s illness and can only lie in bed, he won’t care about you at all—he’ll just let you die in agony. “If you don’t want to die, you’d better divorce quickly and not take any assets with you. Leave all that money to Zoey as compensation.”

I honestly have no idea what I’m supposed to compensate Zoey for. And I certainly won’t give up everything I’ve worked so hard for just to walk away with nothing. However, after binding with the system, Zoey seems convinced she’s guaranteed to win. Despite her body still being covered in festering wounds, she acts as if she’s already recovered, rushing to discharge herself from the hospital and running around having fun with her rotting skin. Bella and Alexander have stopped hiding their relationship too. Bella moved directly into Alexander’s hospital room. The two of them act like husband and wife, living it up in the ward. They’re too busy enjoying themselves to care about Zoey. As a result, on her first day out of the hospital, Zoey crashed while street racing and tore up another large patch of skin. In the past, I would have frantically applied medicine to Zoey’s wounds and never allowed her to do such dangerous things. But now, if she wants to kill herself, I’m not going to stop her. Soon enough, Zoey was covered in injuries again and back in the hospital. What I didn’t expect was that Alexander and Bella would have the nerve to come asking me for money. Alexander said, “Zoey isn’t just my child. She needs a huge sum for medical expenses now that she’s hospitalized. You need to figure out how to come up with the money.” I looked at Alexander in amazement and said, “I already helped Zoey bind with the system. I’ve done more than enough for her. What gives you the right to demand I pay her medical bills too? Besides, she deserves every one of those injuries.” After hearing my words, Alexander rolled his eyes. “You’re her mother. Isn’t it your duty to sacrifice for her? What kind of mother keeps score of how much she’s given her daughter? Abigail, if you’re going to be this selfish, let’s get divorced!” Before I could get excited about the prospect of divorce, Alexander quickly added, “Zoey says she wants to live with me. Don’t think you’ll get custody of her. And you won’t get a single cent either. Otherwise, I won’t let you see Zoey for the rest of your life.” Alexander thought this would scare me. After all, for the past dozen Christmases, my love for Zoey had run deep. But I just looked at him coldly and said, “Are you living in the house I bought before marriage and driving the car I bought before marriage, and now you’re so smug you’ve forgotten what a useless person you are? You think I won’t get a single cent? Fine by me. We don’t have any joint assets anyway.” Alexander was stunned, his expression turning ugly. He said, “You want to take back the car and house? I don’t agree. Abigail, Zoey’s condition just improved and she needs to recuperate. Do you really have the heart to make her suffer?” Now he’s trying to guilt-trip me? I almost laughed from anger and said, “You don’t seriously think Zoey can survive just because she bound with the system, do you? What right does someone so heartless and ungrateful have to live?” But as soon as I finished speaking, a slap landed hard across my face. Turns out Zoey had arrived at some point. Her previously obedient demeanor had completely vanished, replaced by eyes full of hatred and venom as she glared at me. She said, “I’m ungrateful? I’ve been forcing myself to call you mom for over a dozen Christmases despite how disgusting it makes me feel. I’m practically the kindest person in the world.” As Zoey spoke, she grabbed a fruit knife from the table and pressed it against my throat. She said, “Let me tell you something. I’m still a minor. Even if I stab you to death right now, I won’t get the death penalty. If you’re smart, you’ll hand over the car and house to me right now. Otherwise, after you’re dead, I’ll inherit them anyway.” The knife tip was sharp. Blood dripped down my neck drop by drop. My heart pounded violently from fear, but not because I was afraid of dying. It was because I saw that the festering, oozing wounds on Zoey’s body had completely disappeared. Her skin had become smooth and delicate all over, clearly showing she had recovered her health. A terrible premonition immediately rose in my heart. I quickly looked down at my arm and discovered that ulcerated wounds had suddenly appeared on my skin. But I never bound with any system. Zoey should have died from her illness long ago. What went wrong? Why did Zoey suddenly recover? Why are wounds appearing on my body? Did the disease transfer system malfunction? Could it be that once again I can’t change my fate, and I’m still destined to die for Zoey’s sake?

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On the seventh day after my daughter Anna Lawson went missing, I, Elise Lawson, took the entire kindergarten hostage. All twenty-seven children and two teachers were locked in the classroom with me. I told the police: “If you can’t find my daughter, I’ll kill one child every thirty minutes.” The kindergarten principal, Isabella Reed, knelt on the ground crying: “Your daughter’s disappearance has nothing to do with me! Why should other children pay with their lives?” I glanced at my watch and said calmly: “Twenty-nine minutes left. Please hurry and find my daughter.” I knew she was somewhere in this kindergarten. Five minutes earlier, Isabella had been arrogant outside the door. I leaned against the door as the children in the classroom continued playing, oblivious to what was happening. Only the two female teachers stared at me with terror in their eyes. Outside, Isabella pounded on the iron door, her voice shrill: “What the hell do you want? What does your missing daughter have to do with me? Open this door! Parents are coming to pick up their kids!” I said nothing, pulled an assembled gun from my pocket, turned toward the ceiling, and pulled the trigger. Isabella staggered back two steps, her lips trembling: “Are you insane? This is illegal! I’m calling the police! Don’t you know kidnapping children is punishable by death?” I sneered, running my fingers along the barrel: “Go ahead and call them, but you’re in no position to negotiate with me.” Five minutes later, sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. A gentle male voice came from outside. I recognized him—Officer Eric Owens from the police station: “Elise, just calm down. We’re doing everything we can to investigate your daughter’s disappearance. Please let the children go first, and we can talk this through, okay?” I gripped the gun handle tighter, almost laughing out loud. My daughter had been missing for seven whole days. The police had no leads, no answers, and now they wanted to “talk this through” with me? Talk about how many years I’d spend in prison? I shouted toward the door: “I just want to see my daughter! If I don’t see her within half an hour, you’ll see the first child’s corpse!” Police tape had already been set up outside. Parents rushed to the scene, their cries rising and falling. Some beat the ground in anguish, others cursed and raged. The police tried to contain me while holding back the frantic crowd. Eric was sweating profusely. He knew this was way beyond his jurisdiction. SWAT and detectives were already on their way, but he still needed to keep me stable: “Mrs. Lawson, these children are innocent. You used to be a teacher here—can you really bear to hurt them?” I closed my eyes. The biggest regret of my life was coming to work at this kindergarten. If I hadn’t come here, Anna wouldn’t have disappeared. I checked my watch, my voice ice-cold: “Twenty-eight minutes left. You don’t want any casualties either, do you?” Eric said urgently: “We’re already searching with everything we’ve got, but how can we find someone in such a short time?” I kicked over a chair violently and screamed: “I’ve told you countless times—she never left this place! She’s in this building! Search it like your lives depend on it!” Rainbow Kindergarten wasn’t large—three two-story buildings with activity yards in front and back. The day Anna disappeared, I searched every corner of this place and couldn’t find her. I demanded to see the surveillance footage, but Isabella claimed the system had malfunctioned and all recordings were lost. I didn’t believe such a coincidence existed. I suspected Anna’s disappearance was connected to Isabella. Later, I snuck into the surveillance room at night and went through the backup footage frame by frame. The footage clearly showed Anna entering the kindergarten but never leaving. She was still here. But where exactly was she hiding? I couldn’t figure it out. Eric continued trying to persuade me from outside: “The police have conducted a new search. You have to trust us.” But I knew he didn’t believe me. The police had searched three times initially and hadn’t found so much as a strand of Anna’s hair. They’d long since concluded Anna wasn’t here. The parents outside completely lost control: “Your daughter’s missing—what does that have to do with our kids? If you’ve got guts, go kidnap Isabella!” “Please, I’m begging you, let my daughter go. She has asthma—if she gets too scared, she could die.” A mother knelt outside the police tape, tears streaming down her face. The crowd roared: “Shoot her! Take her down!” I raised the megaphone, my voice cutting through the chaos: “I don’t want to kill anyone. I just want to know where my daughter is.” I raised my hand to check the time—twenty-five minutes left. SWAT must have arrived by now. A sniper was probably already aiming at my forehead. “Isabella,” I said slowly, “you know, don’t you? Where is Anna?” Everyone’s eyes turned to her in unison. Her face went pale, but she forced herself to stay composed: “How would I possibly know? Mrs. Lawson, stop making wild accusations like a madwoman!” “Your daughter might have run away from home—maybe she went to find her father.” She paused, then suddenly added, “Oh right, her father, that convict, isn’t he getting out of prison soon? Maybe he secretly took her away!”

“Absolutely impossible!” The words burst out almost involuntarily. Eric quickly said, “We’ve already tried contacting Anna’s father, Joseph Weber, but we haven’t heard anything from him so far. Ms. Lawson, we will find your daughter. Please release the children in the classroom first, okay? I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to find Anna. Everyone is working hard on this. The way you’re acting now, even if we find Anna, how could you face her? Do you want her to know that both her parents are criminals?” My heart lurched, and I actually felt a moment of wavering. Just then, a small red ball rolled to my feet. A little girl stood not far away, looking up with bright, sparkling eyes: “Ms. Lawson, could you kick the ball back to me?” I struggled to suppress my churning emotions, bent down to gently pick up the ball, and tossed it back tenderly. The children remained innocent and carefree, completely unaware that this classroom had been shrouded in fear and confrontation. But could my Anna still play games so happily? I didn’t dare think further. I glanced at the watch on my wrist and called out coldly toward the door: “Eighteen minutes left. Have you found any leads?” The negotiation had broken down. Eric sighed, his brow furrowed with anxiety. The police had already taken their positions, and negotiation specialists sent by the state had arrived on scene, rapidly deploying tactical plans. This incident had already caused a citywide sensation. Reporters and social media crews swarmed in, cameras focused on the kindergarten’s entrance. The orders from above were clear: absolutely no child could be harmed. If necessary, the suspect could be shot and killed. But Eric still didn’t want it to come to that—he believed things hadn’t reached that point yet. Based on his years of experience handling cases, he felt that woman didn’t seem like a criminal, but more like a desperate mother. He asked, “How’s the surveillance recovery going? Did Anna actually leave the kindergarten or not?” A colleague from the tech unit quickly responded: “We’ve restored the deleted video segments. From the existing records, Anna never appeared in any exit surveillance footage, and there’s no indication she left the building.” Eric frowned deeply: “If Anna really didn’t leave, then where is she? But the entire campus has been searched three times. We’ve checked the classrooms, offices, principal’s office, kitchen, storage rooms, and activity rooms.” The police searched inside and out again, but found absolutely nothing. “Did she just vanish into thin air? There’s no other explanation!” Colin Barnes slammed his fist against the wall, his voice full of frustration. “Every corner here has cameras! There are no surveillance blind spots!” “Wait!” A flash of inspiration struck Eric. “Are there cameras installed in the restrooms? Search the bathrooms!” The kindergarten’s restrooms were indoors, and Anna had last disappeared from her classroom. But that was exactly where Elise was holding the hostages. The loudspeaker inside crackled to life again, Elise’s voice cold and mocking: “Fifteen minutes left. You police are truly useless—you can’t even find one child.”

I leaned against the wall, my voice dripping with sarcasm: “When a foreigner loses a watch, you’d turn the entire dump upside down. But when a living, breathing child goes missing for seven whole days, you have absolutely nothing?” Eric fell silent for a moment, his voice low: “Ms. Lawson, maybe your daughter is right here beside you?” I froze, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Anna’s last known location was indeed this very kindergarten. The lockers, the restrooms, every single corner—I’d searched through them all countless times with my own hands. Nothing. “This place has full surveillance coverage, except for the restroom—that’s the blind spot,” he continued. “We suspect your daughter might have been taken through the restroom. Ms. Lawson, it’s not too late to turn yourself in. The police will uncover the truth.” The restroom, the restroom! I mentally traced that cramped space over and over—the unisex children’s restroom, two small stalls, an inconspicuous exhaust fan in the corner, pipes stained with rust, humming constantly. I looked toward the restroom, and suddenly something strange flickered through my mind. But the feeling was too vague, like shadows underwater—impossible to grasp or articulate. I licked my cracked lips, my voice ice-cold: “Ten minutes left. I only want results. If you can’t find my daughter, I’ll make them all pay with their lives.” Eric closed his eyes, veins pulsing at his temples. Behind him, a detective quietly raised his hand, signaling the sniper—the moment there’s an opening, take the shot. I chuckled softly, my gaze sweeping across the seam between ceiling and wall: “If she really was taken through the restroom, then there must be a hidden passage leading outside. Officers, I hope you find it soon. Even if you arrest me for this, it’ll be worth it.” I’d considered before whether someone might have abducted her while she was using the restroom. But that would require a passage and would leave traces. As just an ordinary person, the clues I couldn’t find would have to be left to the professionals. I lowered my eyes, fingertips gently caressing the cold edge of the gun. Everything was proceeding according to plan. The watch’s second hand ticked forward. I beckoned to a little girl: “Ruby,” I curved my lips into a smile, speaking softly, “want to play a game with me?” With only five minutes remaining, the police continued their futile attempts at persuasion. Eric had nearly shouted himself hoarse: “Ms. Lawson! Don’t be rash! The entire city’s police force is mobilized, everyone’s helping you find your child! Not just us, but countless concerned citizens! If you turn back now, you’ll still have a chance to see your daughter again!” “Last minute, and you still haven’t found her.” As my words fell, I suddenly yanked open the curtain, using Ruby’s small body to shield mine as the blade sliced across. A line of blood bloomed across her neck. She didn’t even have time to whimper before her head drooped softly. Bright red blood sprayed across the clean glass window, blooming like flowers. I quickly retreated behind the wall as my voice, calm to the point of being mechanical, echoed through the broadcast: “The first child is dead. This is the price of your incompetence.” The parents’ wails outside were heart-wrenching. Due to the swift action, many couldn’t even tell which child had fallen. I stood pressed against the wall, cold sweat streaming down my back. Even hidden behind cover, I could feel the sniper’s scope locked dead center on my forehead. Eric roared as he smashed the megaphone to the ground, his voice trembling: “You monster! Whatever grievances you have, killing innocent children is an unforgivable crime! You’re surrounded! Drop your weapon and surrender!” So now he thinks reasoning won’t work and he’s resorting to threats of force? I remained perfectly still, my voice calm: “I’ve planted bombs throughout this kindergarten. If you don’t want to see more casualties, you’d better move faster. I swear, as soon as you find my daughter, I’ll surrender immediately and won’t harm anyone else.” The moment Eric heard the word “bombs,” his face went deathly pale. They didn’t dare take the risk. Even if they shot me down right now, I could still detonate the remote device before dying. “Who the hell is she?” a young officer asked, trembling. “How does a woman who can get her hands on guns and explosives end up working as a kindergarten teacher?” Someone nearby whispered an explanation: “She used to be a PhD in munitions engineering. After her husband was imprisoned, she returned to her hometown and took a job at this kindergarten.” Eric rubbed his temples: “What was her husband imprisoned for?” The officer replied: “Manslaughter. He was released seven days ago. His current whereabouts are unknown.” Eric thought to himself: “Seven days ago? Anna also disappeared seven days ago. Is this a coincidence? Could Joseph have taken his own daughter?” But reality didn’t allow them time to ponder. Joseph needed to be tracked down, and Anna had to be found. A new thirty-minute countdown had already begun. Just then, excited shouting came from the adjacent restroom: “There’s a hidden passage! Really! There’s a child inside!” Eric’s head snapped up as he saw his colleague crawling out of a narrow ventilation shaft, carrying a frail little body in his arms, clutching a small piece of a broken phone watch. His eyes widened—it was Anna’s watch. The crowd erupted in screams and sobs. Eric quickly removed his police jacket to cover the child and shouted at me: “Elise! We found your daughter! You can let everyone go now! She’s alive!” I held my breath, peering through the peephole. The child wrapped in the police jacket had one arm hanging limply, and on her wrist was the pink phone watch I had personally chosen for Anna. My heart pounded violently, almost bursting from my chest. I could barely control myself, my fingers already reaching for the door handle, wanting nothing more than to rush out and hold her. Just then, my phone vibrated. I glanced down at the message I’d just received and instantly regained my composure.

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In college, I, Sarah Stewart, used money to sustain my relationship with Thomas Hamilton for three years. The day my family went bankrupt, I forced him to spend one last night with me. That night, a fire broke out at the hotel. To save him, half my face was burned, and I lay unconscious in the hospital for three days. The first thing I did after waking up was drag my still-healing body to find him. But just outside his hospital room, I heard his friends celebrating. “She was ugly to begin with, and now with her face ruined and her family bankrupt, she’s even less worthy of Thomas.” “Thomas, didn’t you apply for that exchange program abroad? What a perfect chance to get rid of her. Why are you still tangled up with her?” That familiar, cold voice responded indifferently: “Just fooling around, that’s all.” I froze in place, my gaze falling on the glass tiles that reflected my disfigured face. My chest felt as if it had split open with a bottomless chasm, cold wind howling through it, making my heart heavy and bitter with pain. I left New York, thinking I’d never see Thomas again. Five years later, to scrape together tuition for my daughter Esther, I was introduced to work as a tutor in an affluent neighborhood. Fate brought me face to face with him once more. He was gently instructing a boy: “I have to go to work now. Listen to your teacher, okay?” After all these years, he had built a family and career. And I had shed my scars and subtly altered my appearance. He turned and nodded at me politely, not recognizing me. ***** The moment I stepped into the living room, I froze completely. Thomas rose to greet me, rimless glasses perched on his straight nose, making him appear even more distinguished and aloof. “Hello, you must be Ms. Fields. Please come in.” His tone was polite, his expression calm and unruffled. Only then did I realize that Thomas was my employer. The impoverished student I had once controlled with money, forced into submission, had now achieved success. And apparently, he had a child too. “Samuel, say hello to Ms. Fields.” He gently patted the boy’s shoulder, his voice tender. I suppressed the urge to turn and flee, steadying my voice: “Hello, Samuel. I’m Ms. Fields, and I’ll be teaching you piano.” I couldn’t help but look at Thomas. His gaze remained on the child, a smile playing at his lips, completely different from his earlier detachment—clearly a loving father. I was led to the music room, and the moment I pushed open the door, my breath caught. In the center of the room sat a piano. It was the birthday gift my grandfather had won for me at an Italian auction. Inside the lid, a faint scratch was barely visible. I had carved it with my fingernail as a child during a tantrum about practicing. Later, when my family went bankrupt, this million-dollar piano was seized and sold. Now it appeared here, like an absurd reunion. Memories flooded back like a tide. I forced down my churning emotions and began today’s lesson. Samuel was cheerful and suddenly looked up at me: “Ms. Fields, could you play something else? I’m tired of hearing all these pieces.” I nodded, and the moment my fingers touched the keys, it felt like awakening sleeping memories. A familiar melody flowed from my fingertips. It was an obscure pop song—one I had insisted Thomas play with me during our relationship. When the piece ended, I looked up in a daze to find Thomas standing in the doorway. Half his face was hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Ms. Fields,” his voice was cold as frost, “why did you choose that piece? It’s not really suitable for a beginner, is it?” Samuel hugged Thomas’s leg, explaining innocently: “Dad, I already learned everything Ms. Fields taught me today! I asked her to play something random.” After a pause, he added: “But what a coincidence—you know how to play this song too, right?” My heart clenched painfully, regretting that I’d gotten too carried away and forgotten my place. Thomas was silent for a moment, then said coldly: “I don’t know it. It’s nothing worth listening to anyway.” In that instant, it felt like someone had stomped on my chest. To him, that relationship had been nothing but a humiliating transaction. As I was leaving, he suddenly said: “Where do you live? I can give you a ride if it’s on my way.” “No need.” My refusal was almost instinctive. “I can get home on my own.” He insisted: “It’s hard to get a cab around here, and it’s far from the subway station. I was heading out anyway.” With him putting it that way, I had no choice but to get in his car. The car was quiet. He focused on driving while I closed my eyes and pretended to rest. When we reached my destination, he politely opened the door for me, just as Esther came to meet me. I instinctively moved to shield her behind me. He glanced at Esther, then at me, asking calmly: “She’s your daughter? She looks about the same age as Samuel.”

I kept my head down and said, “Yes, she’s four years old. She just started kindergarten this past Christmas.” The Christmas Esther was born, I fled abroad, and didn’t register our marriage until a year later. Actually, Esther is already five years old. As soon as I finished speaking, someone suddenly wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me out from under Thomas’s umbrella and into a familiar embrace. “Daddy!” Esther looked up with her little face, calling out happily. I froze, turning to meet Rafael Wright’s smiling eyes. Thomas frowned slightly, looking at me: “Your husband?” I didn’t answer. Rafael and I only had a marriage of convenience, just to make it easier for Esther to attend school. But Rafael smiled and responded, nodding politely to Thomas: “Thank you for bringing my wife home. It’s raining pretty hard—drive carefully.” He handed me the umbrella, scooped up Esther with one arm, and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders as we turned toward the residential complex. I didn’t dare look back until we reached the apartment building. The entrance was empty—Thomas had already driven away. The following days passed peacefully, and I never saw him again. Until that day when I went to class and happened to run into Samuel fussing for food, acting cute in Thomas’s arms: “Daddy, I want to eat your homemade spaghetti!” Thomas had no choice but to get up and go to the kitchen. Samuel pulled me along to follow. When the stove ignited with a “pop” and the flames leaped up, my whole body went rigid. I instinctively crouched down, covering my ears tightly with both hands. “Ms. Fields, what’s wrong?” Samuel hugged me in panic. I stared wide-eyed as the dancing flames in my vision seemed to transform into the inferno that had consumed everything that night. The searing pain on my face, the fire on my body that wouldn’t go out no matter how I tried to put it out… memories flooded back like a tide. My throat tightened, and I almost screamed out loud. Suddenly, the flames went out. Thomas stood in front of me, his voice low and clear: “You’re afraid of fire?” He helped me sit down at the dining table. In that moment, the figure who had rescued me from the fire overlapped with the man before me. I shuddered violently, struggling to suppress the surging emotions, my voice hoarse: “I’m fine, I just need to rest for a moment.” He didn’t leave, just stood there. Under his stern features, his deep gaze locked onto me: “Ms. Fields, have you experienced a fire? Post-traumatic stress disorder?” My heart raced wildly, my breathing so rapid I could barely control it: “It was something from childhood, long past.” He paused, seeming to accept this explanation, and didn’t press further. A moment later, Thomas finished making the spaghetti. Samuel stood on a little stool to add seasoning, and I got up to help. Carrying two plates of spaghetti back, I unconsciously placed one plate in front of Thomas. “Mr. Hamilton, thank you for letting me stay for dinner.” I said politely, just wanting to finish the lesson and leave as quickly as possible. But I didn’t notice that Thomas’s body stiffened slightly. He looked at me quietly, his voice low and measured: “Ms. Fields, my spaghetti—you didn’t add parsley to it, did you?” I was stunned, looking down at the parsley flakes on my own plate of spaghetti. I suddenly understood—I had forgotten to add it because I was used to his preferences. He didn’t like anything added, especially parsley. Thomas looked at me, his gaze profound. I quickly explained: “Sorry, Mr. Hamilton, I was focused on Samuel’s portion and mine, and overlooked yours. Do you eat parsley? I’ll add some right away.” I smiled awkwardly, but my heart was already pounding frantically, afraid he might notice something unusual. “No need,” he said quietly, “coincidentally, I don’t eat it.” He picked up his fork and gently tossed the spaghetti. I quietly breathed a sigh of relief, keeping my head down and silently stirring my spaghetti, not daring to look at him again.

Over the next few days, I keenly sensed Thomas testing me step by step. That day when he drove me home, he asked casually as I got out of the car: “Ms. Fields, is your husband very busy?” My body stiffened, and I mumbled a vague “Mm-hmm,” then hastily added: “It’s just a short walk, I can make it back on my own.” My voice was so soft it was almost like talking to myself. He didn’t respond, just silently rolled up the window. After walking a few steps, I noticed the car behind me still hadn’t started. Through that opaque glass, I could feel his gaze fixed intently on me. I lowered my head and quickly texted Rafael, urging him to come down and pick me up. When Rafael came rushing breathlessly out of the building entrance, I immediately threw myself into his arms, wrapping my hands tightly around his waist with a brilliant, happy smile on my face. We walked into the residential complex together, and I glanced sideways toward the street corner—sure enough, Thomas’s car had disappeared. In that moment, I felt like a drowning person who had finally crawled ashore, gasping desperately for air as my whole body went limp with relief. Ever since Rafael and I started appearing together more frequently, Thomas had noticeably grown much quieter. Until that day when I took Esther to the amusement park and happened to run into Thomas and Samuel at the entrance. The two children immediately grabbed hands and ran off happily to play together. Thomas stood in front of a small booth, his gaze falling on a cat plushie, when he suddenly turned to ask me: “Ms. Fields, do you like cats?” I froze, unable to answer. He looked away, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth: “I never really liked cats before—they annoyed me whenever I saw them. But my wife loves them, so gradually I started to like these little creatures too.” He gestured to show the size, his tone gentle: “You know what? We have a little cat at home that she raised, and it’s grown this big now.” My heart sank heavily. I knew what he was referring to. Back in college, I had found a skinny stray cat on a stormy night, foolishly thinking that raising a life together would deepen our bond. But before long, the cat disappeared. I frantically asked him where the cat had gone, and he only said coldly: “I don’t like cats. Don’t bring that kind of thing home again.” So it wasn’t that he didn’t like cats—he just didn’t like me. Time quickly passed to noon, and Thomas checked his watch, suggesting we take the children out for lunch together. Seeing Esther’s hungry expression, I nodded in agreement. The table was laden with dishes, but I couldn’t taste anything, just wanting this ordeal to end quickly. Finally, as we were about to leave, I was preparing to take Esther’s hand when suddenly there was a loud “bang” from the kitchen. Upon hearing the explosion, my whole body shuddered, and the next moment I was frozen in place. Thick smoke kept billowing toward us like countless giant hands choking my throat, suffocating me completely. The crowd erupted in screams, and panicked people surged like a tide, pushing and shoving me to the ground. “Run! There’s a fire!” I couldn’t make out who was speaking. Esther seemed to be crying, but her voice sounded muffled, as if filtered through a thick curtain of water. The scar on my face suddenly tore with searing pain, as if that fire had never been extinguished and was still burning my flesh. Just as my consciousness was about to collapse, a hand broke through the smoke and gripped my wrist firmly and powerfully. His deep voice rang in my ear: “Sarah, let’s go!” Within seconds, the alarm was lifted and the fire was brought under control. Thomas supported my shoulder, his voice kept low: “It’s okay now. Are you hurt?” I was stunned, my heartbeat skipping a beat. Because he had called me “Sarah.” I wondered: “Does he recognize me? Or was it just my imagination?” I didn’t dare think deeper and immediately lowered my head, hastily excusing myself under the pretense that the child was frightened. To avoid him, I even took time off voluntarily. [Sorry, Mr. Hamilton, Esther hasn’t been feeling well lately. I won’t be able to come for lessons the next two days.] Thomas stared at his phone screen, his brow furrowed. He couldn’t understand why he would sometimes have fleeting moments where he mistook this complete stranger for Sarah. Sarah had been gone for five years now. During these five years, he had scoured every street and alley in New York, using all his resources to search for any trace of her, but found nothing. She bore no resemblance to Sarah whatsoever—she couldn’t be Sarah. He let out a self-deprecating laugh, crushing that absurd thought, and started the engine to leave. But his hand suddenly froze. He saw Rafael sneaking out the door, and a few minutes later, a man approached to meet her. When their eyes met, Rafael’s face showed undisguised shyness and joy, then took the man’s hand. Thomas felt a chill run through his entire body, a cold dread shooting from his feet to the top of his head, followed by a surge of rage. Kayla’s husband was gay? How dare he? As a father, as a husband, he was actually cheating on his family, secretly meeting with another man? His chest heaving violently, Thomas gripped the steering wheel tightly. He made a phone call, speaking through gritted teeth: “I want you to investigate. Dig up everything about Rafael and Kayla’s marriage. How did they get married? When? Is their registration even legitimate? I want it all uncovered!” ***** I didn’t see Thomas again until seven days later. He had sent a message saying he wanted to take Samuel out, so lessons would be suspended for a few days. That suited me perfectly. But when I finally pulled myself together and stepped into Thomas’s house again, I discovered Samuel wasn’t there. In the vast living room, only Thomas sat alone, holding a cup of cold coffee. “Mr. Hamilton,” I forced myself to remain calm, “is Samuel in the music room?” He slowly looked up, his voice cold as ice: “He’s not home.” At his words, I instinctively shuddered. He stood up and walked toward me step by step. His tall figure, backlit, completely enveloped me in shadow. Unease wrapped around my heart like vines, tightening with each moment. I instinctively stepped back twice, forcing a smile: “Since he’s not here, I’ll head back then.” “Sarah.” His voice was heavy, carrying a barely perceptible tremor. I froze in place, my blood seeming to turn to ice. In the silent living room, only his heavy breathing echoed through the air. After a moment, he suddenly let out a cold laugh, his voice hoarse: “No, I should still call you Kayla, shouldn’t I? Did you enjoy playing me for a fool all this time?”

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At 3 AM, the cold glow of my phone screen illuminated my face. I, Juliet Martin, stared at that transaction record, my fingertips going numb. Purchase details: Washington Hotel Executive Suite. Transaction time: 8 PM last night. My husband Bruce Gilbert is a detective, and he was on duty last night. I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. I sent him a message: [I just saw your credit card statement. You stayed at a hotel last night?] Almost instantly, he replied: [Police station had overtime work. They arranged accommodation for everyone. Forgot to tell you.] I stared at those words and suddenly smiled. Washington Hotel is on the west side of the city, the police station on the east side—spanning the entire city, not even close to being on the way. I didn’t press further. I quietly opened my banking app, copied the merchant address from the transaction record, and sent it to my best friend Lainey Spencer, who works as a private investigator. Two seconds later, she replied: [Hold on, I’ll definitely get to the bottom of this for you.] ***** Two hours later, my phone vibrated. I received a video and location information. The video was from the hotel lobby surveillance. In the footage, Bruce was wearing his police uniform, looking natural as he walked into the elevator hand-in-hand with a girl in a white dress. The girl had long hair cascading over her shoulders, a slender waist, and from her profile looked to be barely in her twenties, smiling so brightly her eyes crinkled. Around her wrist was a bracelet—one I had woven by hand three Christmases ago, wishing Bruce safety and good luck. He had once said that except during missions, he would never take off this bracelet. The location showed “Starlight Welfare House”—a children’s home. My heart clenched violently, my breathing nearly stopping. Among Bruce’s community service cases, there was indeed a girl named Lucy Weber. Her parents had died early, and she had a withdrawn personality. He had mentioned her several times, saying she was pitiful and needed extra care. I had gone with him once to Starlight Welfare House and had seen Lucy from a distance. In my memory, she was frail and silent, walking with her head down, unwilling to say a single word. She was completely different from the person laughing so brightly in the video. I changed clothes and drove straight to Starlight Welfare House. The security guard recognized me and nodded me through. “Lucy’s in the back garden.” From a distance, I saw her sitting on a bench, looking down at her phone with the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, as if she had received some happy news. Sunlight fell on her hair, making it golden. But the bracelet on her wrist glinted in the light, making my eyes ache. She looked up and saw me. Her smile froze for a moment, then she stood up and called out timidly, “Mrs. Gilbert.” Her voice was soft, just as reserved and shy as last time. I walked over and sat beside her, my gaze falling on her lit phone screen. The chat interface was paused on a conversation with someone labeled “Bruce.” The latest message was from him: [See you at the usual place tonight. I brought you a gift.] Her reply: [Okay! Bruce, you’re the best!] The timestamp showed 7:30 PM last night. I quietly pressed my lips together, turned to look at her, and said calmly, “Your bracelet is quite pretty. Did Bruce give it to you?” She trembled, instinctively hiding her hand in her sleeve, and said quietly, “He said it was my birthday, so he gave me this.” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “When’s your birthday? How come I’ve never heard him mention it?” Her eyes darted away, her lips moved, but she couldn’t speak. I smiled, pulled out my phone from my bag, opened the surveillance video, and held it directly in front of her: “Last night at 8 PM, at Washington Hotel—Bruce’s birthday gift to you was this, wasn’t it?” Lucy’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

Tears suddenly welled up in Lucy’s eyes, large droplets falling onto the back of her hand as her shoulders trembled like autumn leaves in the wind. “Mrs. Gilbert, it’s not what you think,” she choked out. “Bruce said there was a mission that required my cooperation, and he told me to wait for him at the hotel. I really didn’t know it would turn out like this.” “A mission?” I raised an eyebrow slightly, my tone calm yet laced with coldness. “What kind of mission requires you to wear a white dress, put on his personal bracelet, and wait alone in a hotel room he booked?” She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak, only crying harder. Her sobs drew the attention of a caregiver from Starlight Welfare House. It was a woman in her forties who knew me. She hurried over and said, “Mrs. Gilbert, Lucy is still young and naive. Could there be some misunderstanding?” I ignored her, keeping my eyes fixed on Lucy’s face. “When did you and Bruce actually start this?” She bit her lip, tears brimming in her eyes, shaking her head desperately. “We didn’t. Mrs. Gilbert, please believe me, we really didn’t.” “I don’t believe you.” I put away my phone and turned to leave. Some things weren’t worth discussing with her. I had just gotten into my car when Bruce’s call came through. “Juliet, did you go to Starlight Welfare House?” His voice carried suppressed displeasure. “Lucy just called me, crying hysterically, saying you misunderstood her.” “Misunderstood?” I let out a light laugh. “What did I misunderstand? That she was wearing your bracelet, lying in a hotel room you booked?” The other end went silent for a few seconds, then came his tired, dismissive voice. “Juliet, can’t you be more mature? Lucy is someone I’m helping. She has a tragic background, so what’s wrong with me taking extra care of her? Stop being so paranoid all the time.” “I’m being paranoid?” I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Bruce, you weren’t even on duty last night, were you?” His tone suddenly turned cold. “Juliet, are you following me?” “I don’t have that kind of time.” I said coldly and hung up directly. Then I called Lainey. “Help me check Bruce’s duty records for the past six months, and all his hotel booking records. The more detailed, the better.” A light tsk came from the other end. “Looks like this isn’t simple. Alright, wait for my message.” Half an hour later, the email arrived. Opening the attachment, Bruce’s duty records were circled in red pen in over a dozen places—all dates when he had logged duty shifts in the system but wasn’t actually on duty. And that hotel booking record was even more nauseating. Starting three months ago, almost once a week, different locations, but without exception, all near Starlight Welfare House. The most recent entry was last night’s Washington Hotel. All paid for with his credit card. Staring at the hotel records on my screen, I felt sick to my stomach. Five years of marriage, I had managed everything at home for him, understanding his busy and dangerous work, never complaining. When he said he wanted to help Lucy, I supported him. I even personally bought her dresses and books, treating her like a child who needed warmth. But it turned out my sincerity was nothing but a joke to him. My phone rang again. The caller ID showed Richard Wood, Bruce’s colleague. “Juliet, did you and Mr. Gilbert have a fight?” His tone was awkward. “He just threw a tantrum at the station, threw files all over the floor, saying you were being unreasonable.” I held the phone, listening to him carefully trying to mediate: “Juliet, Mr. Gilbert is under a lot of pressure, you know that. Lucy really is pitiful, and Mr. Gilbert is just soft-hearted. He really doesn’t mean anything else…” “Soft-hearted enough to need to take care of her at a hotel?” I interrupted him, my voice ice-cold. “Richard, if you don’t have anything else, I’m hanging up.” After hanging up, I started the car and headed straight for the police station. Some things needed to be made crystal clear face to face.

The police station entrance was packed with cars. I had just parked when I saw Bruce walking out from inside. He wore his crisp police uniform, his posture still upright, but his face was unusually grim. When he spotted me, his brow furrowed instantly. He strode over quickly, yanked open the car door, and slid into the passenger seat. “Juliet, what the hell are you trying to do?” He kept his voice low, barely containing his fury. “Do you have to make such a scene?” I stared directly at him. “Bruce, I just want to hear the truth. What exactly is your relationship with Lucy?” He turned away, avoiding my gaze. “I already told you—she’s someone I’m helping out.” “Helping her out in a hotel room?” I laughed coldly. “Bruce, do you think I’m stupid?” He whipped his head around to glare at me, his eyes sharp as knives. “Juliet! Do you have to push me like this?” Just then, a slender figure approached us—Lucy. She clutched a thermal lunch container tightly in her hands, her white dress swaying gently in the breeze. Seeing us sitting in the car, her face went deathly pale, and her eyes quickly reddened. “Bruce,” she called out timidly, “I brought you lunch. I didn’t expect Mrs. Gilbert to be here too.” Bruce jerked as if burned, shoving the car door open and rushing over in a few quick steps, instinctively positioning himself protectively in front of her. The movement was too natural, as if it had been carved into his very bones, and it stabbed at my heart. “Who told you to come?” His tone was reproachful, yet couldn’t hide a trace of tenderness. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in the office?” “I was worried you wouldn’t have time to eat.” Lucy kept her head down, mumbling. The bracelet on her wrist slid down to her forearm with the movement, catching my eye perfectly. I pushed open the car door, my heels clicking crisply against the concrete. As I approached them, Bruce subtly pulled Lucy another half-step behind him. That small gesture completely ignited the rage burning in my chest. “Bruce, you’re protecting her?” I laughed, my voice cold as ice. “In your heart, who exactly is your wife?” “Juliet, stop being unreasonable!” His face darkened so much it looked ready to drip water. “Lucy’s still young—don’t scare her!” “I’m scaring her?” I pointed at Lucy’s wrist, my voice suddenly rising. “Then tell me what she’s wearing! I braided that bracelet myself! I gave it to you hoping it would keep you safe. And now? You’ve given it to another woman and taken her to a hotel?” The surrounding officers turned to look, some stopping to whisper among themselves. Bruce’s face flushed red, veins bulging at his temples. “Juliet! We’ll discuss this at home! This is my workplace!” “Are you scared?” I stepped closer, staring hard into his eyes. “Then why weren’t you scared when you took her to that hotel? Why weren’t you scared when you brought her home to sleep in our marriage bed? Bruce, when you did those things wearing this uniform, you should have known this day would come!” “Mrs. Gilbert, please stop,” Lucy suddenly burst into tears, gripping Bruce’s arm tightly as she trembled. “It’s all my fault. You shouldn’t blame Bruce. I was the one who initiated it—he rejected me many times.” “You initiated it?” I acted like I’d heard the joke of the century, pulling out my phone and opening the surveillance video, shoving it right in her face. “You initiated holding hands with him in that white dress as you walked into the elevator? Wearing my bracelet while waiting for him in the hotel? Lucy, didn’t your parents teach you what shame means?” She shuddered all over, tears streaming down like broken pearls. Suddenly she clutched her stomach and crouched down. “Ah! My stomach hurts so much!” Bruce’s expression changed drastically. Without hesitation, he bent down to help her up. “Lucy! What’s wrong?” “Don’t touch her!” I shouted sternly. “Bruce, look carefully! She’s acting!” “Are you insane?” He roared, the disgust in his eyes stabbing at me like knives. “She’s pregnant! If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive you!” The word “pregnant” struck my heart like a sledgehammer. I staggered back a step, staring in disbelief at her slightly rounded belly. So they had already gone this far. Looking at the two of them, I suddenly laughed through my tears. “Bruce, you got your ‘help case’ pregnant. How dedicated of you.” Lucy cried even harder in his arms, sobbing as she said, “Let’s go. I don’t want to make Mrs. Gilbert sad. Mrs. Gilbert, we truly love each other. Please, I’m begging you to let us be together.” “True love?” I laughed until tears came, raising my hand to point at the police station sign. “Your true love is built on lies and betrayal? Your love tramples on someone else’s marriage? Lucy, let me tell you something—as long as I’m Bruce’s legal wife, you’ll always be nothing but a homewrecker who can’t show her face in public!” “Enough!” Bruce suddenly swept Lucy up in his arms, turning to look at me coldly, all warmth gone from his eyes. “Juliet, this is my final warning—don’t push me.” “I’m forcing you?” I stared at his retreating figure as he carried Lucy away, my voice trembling. “Bruce, you forced me first! What did I force you to do? Force you not to cheat? Force you not to lie? When you trampled my trust, my love, and our five-year marriage into the dirt, you should have realized I’m not someone who can be bullied! You’re a cop, Bruce! You broke the law knowing better!” I suddenly grabbed his wrist, my fingertips touching nothing but bare skin. The bracelet I had woven for him with my own hands was long gone. “Where’s my bracelet?” I asked. He froze, his voice stiff. “Lost it during a mission.” “Lost it?” I stared directly into his eyes, asking word by word, “Then what’s that on Lucy’s wrist?” Bruce’s face went pale instantly. He opened his mouth as if to explain, but ultimately said nothing, roughly shaking off my hand and walking away without looking back. The streetlight stretched his silhouette carrying Lucy into a long shadow, like a dull knife repeatedly cutting through my heart. I watched helplessly as they got into the police car, watched the red and blue lights flash as they pierced through the street corner and sped away. The next second, I crouched on the ground, unable to hold on any longer, and broke down sobbing. The surrounding chatter surged like a tide, but I could no longer hear anything. The man who once vowed to protect me for life had ultimately torn me apart in the cruelest way, leaving me shattered in memories. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Lainey: [I just found out Bruce has been paying Lucy’s rent all along. She also has a new car registered under her name, with Bruce as the payer. Do you want me to send this evidence directly to Internal Affairs?] So he gave her more than just affection—he gave her a home. And I, his legitimate wife, felt like an intruder, excluded from our own marriage. I wiped away my tears and forcefully typed a few words on the screen: [Send it.] I thought, Bruce, since you’re heartless, don’t blame me for being ruthless. What you owe me, I’ll collect bit by bit, with interest. I found an experienced divorce attorney, Athena Harvey. After reviewing the materials I provided, she frowned deeply. “Mrs. Martin, Mr. Gilbert’s behavior constitutes adultery. You have every right to demand a larger share of assets, even leave him with nothing.” She adjusted her glasses, her tone calm. “But there’s one issue—his paycheck and most assets are under your name, so there’s actually limited property he can transfer…” “I don’t care about the money.” I interrupted her, my voice calm yet sharp. “I want him ruined.” Athena paused, then nodded. “That’s possible. But we need more concrete evidence, like intimate photos or recordings.” I suddenly remembered the smart camera at home. Bruce had insisted on installing it last Christmas, saying he was worried about my safety living alone. The camera was connected to both our phones. I had never paid attention to it, but now it might become the most lethal weapon. I immediately went home and logged into the cloud to retrieve the footage. Sure enough, there was a payoff. Half a month ago, Bruce had brought Lucy home. In the video, Lucy was wearing my pajamas, wandering around the living room with a flippant expression. Bruce wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck with disgusting intimacy. “Bruce, so this is your home? It’s so much better than my rental apartment.” Lucy’s voice carried a coquettish tone. “Do you like it? This will be your home too from now on.” He chuckled softly. “Once I divorce Juliet, I’ll transfer the house to you.” “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Bruce, you’re so good to me!” “Of course.” He pinched her cheek, his tone tender enough to break my heart. “My little baby deserves the best.” I laughed bitterly to myself. My little baby? Those words were once my exclusive endearment. Now, he had casually given them to someone else. The video continued playing. They entangled on the sofa, their laughter intimate, then walked embraced into the bedroom Bruce and I shared. I bit my lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, barely preventing myself from vomiting on the spot. So they had long ago turned my home into their affair venue, right under my nose. I silently downloaded the video and sent it to Athena. “Is this enough?” I asked. After watching it, her expression grew grave. “It’s enough. Mrs. Martin, are you sure you want to do this? This will completely destroy him.” “I’m sure.” I answered without a moment’s hesitation. Since he dared to betray me, he should face the consequences.

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“Dad, if I tell everyone that Mom and Mr. Peterson are together, can Aunt Jessica become my mom?” I jolted awake in the middle of the night, hearing those words after getting up to use the restroom. Aunt Jessica, as Leo called her, was our new tutor. A while ago, Leo had whined about wanting a tutor, and David had been surprisingly enthusiastic about finding one for him. The tutor, Jessica Miller, graduated from a prestigious business college, studied abroad, and used to be an executive at a well-known company. Her resume was incredibly impressive. That someone with such a background would agree to take on a simple tutoring job for us was a bit of a surprise, but seeing how well she got along with my son, I didn’t think much of it. Jessica told me, “Stella, I don’t have many friends or family here. I don’t really care about the salary; just providing me a place to live is enough.” Back then, I had no idea she was David’s first love. Before we got married, I knew David had a first love. He said they dated in college, but she dumped him and went abroad because she thought he was poor. He claimed he hated her guts. When we got married, he knelt on one knee in front of me, eyes red. “Stella, you’re the only one who truly cares for me. I, David Miller, will only love you in this life. If I break this vow, may I suffer a terrible fate!” His family was poor, and his relatives and friends barely acknowledged him. I was the one who stood by him, helping him build his career until he became a regional manager for a major Asian company, earning millions a year. “Leo, if you do exactly what Dad tells you, your mom won’t be able to boss you around anymore. Aren’t you excited?” “I am!” Jessica sat in my husband’s lap, gently stroking my son’s head. This whole idea was Jessica’s. David wanted a divorce but was afraid I’d take his money, so he planned to frame me for cheating and make me leave with nothing. After Leo fell asleep. My husband and Jessica sat on Leo’s study desk, kissing passionately. Their clothes were half-undone, their explorations deep. I could hear their heavy breathing through the monitor. I calmly recorded the video and sent it to my lawyer. “Is this enough to make him leave with nothing?” He had no idea that I was just as afraid of him taking my massive fortune. My family was incredibly wealthy. My parents owned properties all across the country; I could just lie around and collect rent, with more money than I could ever spend. When I first met David, he had a deep resentment towards wealth. He said his first love abandoned him for money to go abroad, and he’d hated rich people ever since. So, I never dared to tell him the truth: I was filthy rich! To match his lifestyle, I wore bargain-bin clothes every day and bought cheap produce at the supermarket. He had a fragile ego. He’d lost his job and spent his days at home drinking, complaining that no one recognized his talent. To protect his pride, I secretly approached Mr. Sullivan, offering to lower his rent by thirty percent, on the condition that he give David a chance. Mr. Sullivan immediately called David personally and offered him a job. On his first day of work, he bought a big cake, kissed me like I was the most precious thing, and promised to earn lots of money to support Leo and me. Now, for a few miserable millions, he was conspiring with his mistress to frame me for cheating. He was pathetic. If he’d paid any attention to me, he’d have seen the dozens of keys on my nightstand. The next day. As David was leaving, he leaned in to kiss me. I pretended to look down, avoiding it. He paused, then chuckled. “Honey, I’ll pick you up after work tonight. Dress up nicely.” It was my birthday today. He’d been talking about a big surprise for me for two weeks. If I hadn’t witnessed last night’s scene, I wouldn’t have known that his so-called surprise was actually a trap for me. I gave him a sweet smile. “Okay.” You want to watch a show? You just don’t know whose show it’ll be. “Leo, come here.” Jessica lifted Leo from the dining table and said in an overly sweet voice, “Say goodbye to Mom.”

Leo obediently told me, “Bye, Mom.” Then Leo took Jessica’s hand and left with David. Leo used to hate going to school. He’d refuse to wake up, refuse to eat breakfast, crying and throwing tantrums no matter how patiently I tried to coax him. Jessica told me, “Stella, I have to go out every day anyway. Why don’t I just drop Leo off at school on my way?” Leo listened to her and went to school obediently, which saved me a lot of trouble. Then a few days later, David said, “It’s on my way to work, I’ll drive you both.” From then on, they all left together. I ate my toast, watching Jessica and David holding Leo’s hand, get into the car. Jessica sat in the passenger seat, laughing and talking to my husband, while my son sat quietly in the back, swinging his feet, looking very happy. Soon after, Sam sent me a surveillance video. David didn’t take Leo to school. Instead, he dropped Leo and Jessica off at a large shopping mall. Jessica browsed luxury goods, buying clothes and bags. She took Leo to the children’s play area on the first floor, bought him a pile of fried foods and sodas, and let him sit there and eat by himself. When Leo was little, he was mischievous and had half his spleen removed due to an injury. The doctors said his diet needed to be bland, so I never allowed him to eat these things. He’d thrown tantrums a few times, protesting with hunger strikes, but after a few days of starving, he’d learned his lesson. He saw my firm stance and didn’t dare to act up again. I called Leo’s teacher. “Ms. Davies, did Leo not come to school today?” “Leo’s mom, Leo has been absent for several days. Leo’s dad called to say his grandmother had passed away. We were afraid of upsetting you, so we didn’t call to confirm.” Ha. David even dared to lie about my parents now. My parents looked down on David, that poor guy. They’d objected to our marriage, even saying I dressed like a beggar every day. They never brought David to their home. For holiday dinners, they’d book a restaurant that suited his status. If it weren’t for Leo, they wouldn’t even bother to see David. All these years, I’d asked them to keep a low profile, and it truly hadn’t been exposed. Now David was successful, and he secretly looked down on my parents. “My mother is perfectly fine. He must have misremembered; it was his mother who passed away. Please don’t tell Leo’s dad about my call today.” Ms. Davies hung up, flustered. The luxury items Jessica bought were for a woman. I knew that woman too: Ashley Davies, my next-door neighbor. But the man on her arm wasn’t her husband, Blake, but a young, strong guy. No wonder Jessica wanted to frame me for having an affair with a neighbor. It turned out Ashley was already cheating. Ashley and Jessica instantly clicked, deciding to frame me for an affair with Ashley’s husband, so Ashley could get a divorce and her share of the property legitimately. After they separated, Ashley and the young guy went to a hotel. I immediately sent the room number to Ashley’s husband. Want to watch my show? That’s probably not going to happen. I sipped my tea, leisurely watching Jessica frantically making calls outside. She was probably calling Ashley. The banquet was about to start, and she needed Ashley to bring her husband over to continue her plan. From what I knew, Blake was a boxer, an international boxing champion. By this time, Ashley might be getting a beating.

I put on a beautiful gown, taking the rare effort to do my hair and makeup. “Honey, aren’t we leaving yet? What are we waiting for?” David quickly glanced at Jessica, then smiled and replied, “Okay, let’s go.” Jessica forced a smile. “Stella, I have something to take care of. I’ll come later.” They were so obvious. Was I blind before? I got into the car. The passenger seat was pulled far back. “Honey, has anyone been in the passenger seat?” David’s face paled. “Maybe Leo was playing there earlier.” Leo lied without batting an eye. “I reclined it to sleep earlier.” He didn’t know that I had already removed the memory card from the car. David and Jessica hadn’t been able to resist having a moment in the passenger seat. And my son was in the back seat, playing games. David had booked a fancy ballroom. All the backdrops were adorned with our wedding photos, our family portraits. He pushed a five-tier cake to the center of the stage, looking deeply into my eyes. “Honey, thank you for being with me for the past ten years, building everything from scratch. My achievements today are thanks to your silent dedication all these years. In the future, let’s walk happily together! We’ll have many more decades, growing old together, I love you!” The audience erupted in applause. He really spared no expense. This banquet invited all his company employees to witness our love. The more he pretended to love me, the more impactful it would be when he publicly exposed my supposed affair. Knowing his true colors, everything he did sickened me. Leo brought a glass of juice to me. “Happy birthday, Mom.” He was obedient, well-behaved. To outsiders, I was so happy, with a loving husband and a dutiful son. Only I knew that the juice had been drugged. David and I used to be so in love. When I first met him, it was summer break. I went back to my parents’ old house in the countryside to look after it. He was a tenant there. In that whole building, his electricity bill was always the highest. He’d stay up all night studying, with his lights on. Back then, I thought this young man was hardworking and ambitious. He was also handsome, refined, and looked very honest. I’d run into him several times a day. He’d come downstairs in an ill-fitting suit to throw out the trash. Later, he told me he fell for me at first sight, saying I was cute, and that he did all that to get my attention. He certainly did get my attention. He was good-looking, had excellent grades, and always brought me a sweet treat when he returned. He said my smile was sweeter than any dessert. My family was wealthy, but I hadn’t pursued much education. I had no resistance to a man like him. My parents wanted to send me abroad for study, but I refused. I willingly fell into his gentle trap. But looking back now, after we got together, he stopped paying rent, and I often gave him money to support his graduate studies. He hated rich people, but he spent my money. He held my hand and said, “Stella, when I make money, I’ll build you a big house.” He always thought my family only owned that one old, run-down house in the countryside. Later, he did fulfill his promise, buying a three-bedroom apartment in a big city. This made me happier than when my mom gave me two luxury properties in major cities. I actually thought about telling him how rich my family was, but he started coming home less often, citing work. After Leo was born, my focus shifted entirely to him. He often caught colds or fevers. To take care of Leo, I barely slept four hours a night. Seeing my son, whom I had painstakingly raised, hand me a drugged drink still hurt me deeply.

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My husband, Julian Thorne, was one of the world’s wealthiest men, and a notorious workaholic. In our five years of marriage, he abandoned me for work countless times. The first time was on my birthday. I had meticulously chosen and booked a restaurant, but he jetted off abroad for an acquisition deal, leaving me to wait from dawn till dusk. The second time was after my car accident. I urgently needed my spouse’s consent at the hospital. Mustering what little strength I had, I messaged him, only to receive his cold reply: “I’m in a very important meeting. Handle it yourself.” The third time, my father was critically ill. My dying father wanted to see him one last time, but Julian was too busy with a multi-billion dollar project signing ceremony to make it. As I held my father’s gradually chilling hand, listening to the busy signal on the phone, my heart went completely cold. Time after time, I finally understood. In Julian Thorne’s heart, nothing and no one could ever compare to his business empire. I told myself this was the price of a business marriage. He had always said he wouldn’t love me, but at least, he didn’t love anyone else either. But just as I was almost accustomed to this icy despair, a shocking piece of news suddenly exploded within our social circles— Julian Thorne, known for his indifference to women and his singular focus on work, was reportedly spoiling a young woman rotten! Rumor had it that he ditched a multi-billion dollar deal just to accompany that girl on a skiing trip to the Alps;

Rumor had it that he canceled all his meetings for an entire week, solely to care for her sick kitten; Rumor had it that he let the girl doodle on his priceless contracts, and even halted a meeting with long-standing business partners because she claimed it “wasn’t fun” anymore… My first reaction upon hearing these things was disbelief. How could it be? That was Julian Thorne! The man who valued time above all else, rational to the point of being ruthless! As if compelled by an inexplicable urge, I used all my connections and savings to secretly investigate that girl. However, Julian had her existence under wraps. Despite expending immense effort and spending a fortune, I only managed to obtain one extremely blurry candid photo of her profile. The girl in the photo looked young and delicate, carefully shielded in Julian’s arms. That protective stance was something I had never received in our five years of marriage. That very afternoon, after I got the photo, I left the house feeling restless. Just as I reached the roadside, a black Rolls-Royce, as if out of control, careened directly towards me! I didn’t even catch a glimpse of the person in the car. My body was thrown into the air, then slammed back down. Excruciating pain instantly swept through my entire body, and my consciousness swiftly succumbed to darkness. I woke up again to the pungent smell of disinfectant in the hospital. The first thing I saw was Julian’s chief secretary’s formal, unreadable face. “Mrs. Thorne, you’re awake.” The secretary’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Mr. Thorne asked me to convey to you: do not pry into things or people you shouldn’t. Otherwise, next time, it won’t just be an ‘accident’.” My eyes flew open, the pain in my chest almost choking me! Him? It was *him*?! Just because I found a profile photo of that girl, he didn’t hesitate to stage a car crash just to warn me! A tidal wave of shock and heartbreak crashed over me. The man I had loved for so many years, the man I thought would only ever be passionate about work, was capable of such a crazy and cruel thing for another woman! I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. I thought I would never truly see that girl’s real face. However, a week later, an unexpected call came through. It was the County Clerk’s Office. “Is this Mr. Julian Thorne’s family? Someone has filed a complaint here… accusing Mr. Thorne of soliciting, please come down here…” My mind went blank with a “WHIZZ.” Soliciting? Julian Thorne? I rushed to the County Clerk’s Office almost mechanically. As soon as I entered, I saw a young girl, dressed in a delicate, fancy dress, sitting casually, legs crossed, on the reception chair, complaining petulantly: “Why haven’t you notified him yet? I said I want to accuse him of soliciting, didn’t you hear me? Or is it because he’s a global billionaire that you’re too scared to arrest him?” The surrounding officers looked embarrassed, sweating profusely, repeatedly explaining, “Miss, is there some misunderstanding? Mr. Thorne, he…” “What misunderstanding could there be!” The girl stomped her foot in annoyance. “If you’re too scared to arrest him, I’ll go to another police station to file my complaint!” No sooner had she spoken than the screech of tires echoed from outside the police station. A black sedan pulled up, and Julian Thorne walked in, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his face grim. His impossibly handsome face and overwhelmingly powerful aura instantly silenced the entire lobby. His gaze found me first, his brow immediately furrowed, his voice icy cold: “What are you doing here?” My throat tightened, and I answered hoarsely: “The police… they called me.” Julian’s face grew even colder, his tone imperious: “There’s nothing for you here. Go home.” With that, he didn’t look at me again but walked directly towards the girl causing a scene. The next moment hit me like a lightning bolt, my blood freezing in an instant! Julian Thorne, who was always aloof and as cold as ice, actually humbled himself and knelt down before that girl, looking up at her, his voice imbued with a tenderness and indulgence I had never heard from him, even a hint of careful coaxing: “Baby, who upset you now? Hmm?” Chloe’s eyes welled up, her lips pouted, acting as if it were her absolute right: “You! You didn’t reply to my SnapChat in three seconds! So I was so mad, I came here to report you for soliciting!” Such a ridiculous reason made everyone around gasp. However, Julian, far from getting angry, chuckled softly. He reached out and stroked Chloe’s cheek, his voice incredibly indulgent: “Alright, alright, it’s my fault. Since you reported me for soliciting and want to arrest me, then I’ll truly go to jail for a few days to make you feel better, alright?” As he spoke, he actually extended his hand towards a nearby officer, signaling for handcuffs, which made the officer’s face go pale with fright!

His assistant quickly stepped forward to explain: “Miss Sterling, you’ve misunderstood! Mr. Thorne had a bit of an accident this morning and injured his arm. He’s been at the hospital getting his wounds treated, and his phone ran out of battery and turned off automatically, which is why he couldn’t reply to your messages in time. Please, don’t be angry!” Upon hearing this, Chloe immediately panicked. She grabbed Julian’s hand and indeed saw the white gauze peeking out from beneath his suit cuff. Her tears instantly fell: “You’re hurt? Why didn’t you say anything sooner!” Julian merely gently wiped away her tears: “Regardless, I promised to reply to your messages instantly. Not doing so is my fault and I should be punished.” Chloe cried even harder, burying her face in his chest: “How can you be so good to me…” Julian embraced her, his voice so soft it could melt steel: “Because I love you, baby. Since I was wrong, how do you want to punish me?” Chloe’s tears turned into a smile, her eyes darted, and she pouted, pointing at the ground: “Then I want to ride on your back like a horse here!” The assistant’s face changed, and he was about to object, but Julian raised a hand to stop him. He looked at her, his eyes filled with indulgence: “Must it be here?” “It must be here!” “Alright.” Julian agreed without hesitation, and right there, in front of everyone, he humbled himself and got down on his hands and knees, saying softly, “Come on.” Chloe giggled happily, skillfully climbed onto his back, like a proud little princess. And the business magnate, who dominated headlines in global financial news and whose word was absolute, was now willingly carrying his little princess on his back, crawling on the floor of the police station. There wasn’t a hint of impatience on his face, only pure indulgence and affection. The entire police station was utterly silent, no one daring to even breathe. Only I clamped my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down like a burst dam. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it even if I died—that cold, emotionless Julian Thorne, whose eyes were only on his work, could have such a side! Memories flooded back, carrying a suffocating bitterness. Before marrying him, I had heard Julian Thorne’s name. The media exhausted every superlative to describe his dashing looks, his capability, his business acumen. He was the perfect heir; within a year of taking over the conglomerate, he propelled Thorne Industries to the top of the Forbes list. His only flaw, perhaps, was his indifference to women, as if he were a machine built solely for work. Yet, one fleeting glimpse at a banquet, his aloof, almost ascetic demeanor, his distinguished bearing, instantly captivated me. My heart could hold no one else. So when my family proposed a business marriage, I agreed ecstatically. My best friend at the time tried to persuade me: “Julian Thorne is great, but he’s a heartless work machine. You won’t find happiness in that marriage.” But I naively believed that if I was good enough, if I loved him enough, I could melt his cold heart someday. What was the result? On our wedding night, he coldly went through the motions, then emotionlessly told me: “I have no interest in romance or emotional attachments. Our marriage is purely for business. As long as you stay in your place, I will fulfill my marital duties and ensure you enjoy the prestige of being Mrs. Thorne for life. Don’t expect anything more.” So, after we married, no matter how many times he ignored me or abandoned me for work, I endured it. I told myself, he didn’t love me, but he didn’t love anyone else either. That was enough. But until today, witnessing with my own eyes how he treasured Chloe, how he bowed his proud head for her, how he spoke the “I love you” that I yearned for three years but never received… I could no longer deceive myself. It wasn’t that he was indifferent to women, or inherently cold; it was simply that the person he loved wasn’t me, Elara Vance. All my persistence and endurance had become an absolute joke. I wiped away my tears, turned, and walked out of the County Clerk’s Office. Then I took out my phone and dialed a number: “Mr. Harrison, please prepare a divorce agreement for me.” The next day, I arrived at Thorne Industries headquarters with the freshly drawn-up divorce papers. But the receptionist informed me: “Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne hasn’t been to the office in a long time.” My heart felt as though it had been pricked by a needle again. Not been to the office in a long time? Julian Thorne, the workaholic who once lived and worked at the company for a month straight for a project? I swallowed the bitterness and asked, “Where did he go?” The receptionist looked troubled and whispered, “He’s accompanying Miss Sterling to a Sotheby’s auction.” An auction… I recalled the rumors: he would spare no expense to make his beloved smile. I took a deep breath and drove to the auction house. Inside the venue, there was a dazzling array of socialites and celebrities. My eyes immediately found Julian Thorne sitting in the front row, and beside him, the delicate and lively Chloe Sterling. The auctioneer was introducing the grand finale item, a blue diamond necklace rumored to have once belonged to a British queen. The starting bid was already exorbitant.

The bidding was fiercely competitive, but whenever someone bid, Julian would raise his paddle without hesitation, directly outbidding them, his demeanor nonchalant yet utterly determined to win. Finally, he secured the necklace for Chloe at a jaw-dropping, astronomical price. The entire room gasped in shock, all envious or jealous gazes focusing on Chloe Sterling. Chloe happily wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. I stood not far away, watching this scene, my chest aching with a dull, numb pain. In all our years of marriage, he had never even given me a single decent gift. I always thought he was just emotionally detached, unromantic. It turned out he just wasn’t willing to be romantic *with me*. I clutched the divorce papers in my hand, took a deep breath, and walked towards that dazzling yet searing pair. Julian Thorne noticed me first, his casually smiling face instantly turned cold. Almost instinctively, he shielded Chloe behind him: “What are you doing here?” That instinctive protective gesture was like a sharp knife, piercing deeply into my heart. I tried my best to remain composed and handed him the document in my hand: “I have a document that needs your signature.” Just then, a staff member came over, asking Julian to go backstage to finalize the handover of the necklace. Julian’s voice was icy: “I’m busy right now. We can discuss whatever it is later.” Later? I didn’t want to wait another second. “It’s a very important document, it will only take a few minutes.” I insisted, my voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor. “Julian Thorne, let’s get a divorce. Once you sign this, and the mandatory waiting period is over, we’ll have no ties to each other. Since you have someone you truly love, I’ll let go, and you let me go free. We’ll both find our own happiness, neither of us holding the other back.” I spoke in one breath, mustering my courage, waiting for his reply. But Julian merely frowned, and after a long while, he slowly turned his head, as if he hadn’t heard what I said at all: “What did you just say? I told you I’m busy. We’ll talk later.” With that, he followed the staff member backstage. **CLIFFHANGER** I took a deep breath. He was always like this. Five years of marriage, and every single word I said was just air to him! Just as I was about to follow him, Chloe suddenly walked over and snatched the document right out of my hand. “Oh, you’re Julian’s arranged-marriage wife?” Chloe looked me up and down, a hint of disdain in her eyes. “Just let me sign any documents! Julian gave me a personalized seal with his name engraved on it! He said I could sign any documents for him!” My heart felt as if an invisible hand had gripped it tightly, squeezing the breath right out of me! A personalized seal… to sign *all* documents? Everyone knew Julian was meticulously careful, personally reviewing and signing every important paper! Yet now… Chloe seemed intent on proving it. She actually took out a small, exquisite personal seal from her tiny purse. Without even glancing at the contents, she flipped to the last page and, *thwack*, stamped it! “There, it’s signed,” Chloe said, pushing the document back into my hand, her tone a mix of condescension and warning. “Julian told me you two are just a business marriage. Since that’s the case, you should know your place. For small contracts like buying houses or jewelry, just bring them directly to me to sign in the future. Don’t bother Julian for no reason; he doesn’t want to see you.” I looked at the vibrant red imprint on the agreement, the symbol of Julian Thorne’s authority, and felt an overwhelming sense of irony. I opened my mouth, about to tell her this wasn’t some house purchase contract, but divorce papers… Suddenly, the blaring fire alarm rang throughout the venue! “Fire! Run!” Someone screamed, and instantly, the crowd descended into utter panic, stampeding towards the exits! Chloe and I, standing towards the interior and being relatively small figures, were instantly knocked to the ground by the chaotic, terrified crowd! “Ah!” “Don’t step on me!” Countless feet trampled over us. Excruciating pain shot through me. My bones felt like they were being crushed. I tried desperately to get up, but I was completely helpless! “Julian! Julian, help me!” Chloe cried out in terror. “Baby!” Julian’s anxious voice reached me. I saw him return, pushing through the crowd with effort, and a pathetic flicker of hope ignited deep within my heart. But he rushed over, his gaze unerringly locked onto Chloe. Without a second’s hesitation, he bent down, scooped Chloe into his arms, shielding her, and turned to rush out! He didn’t spare a single glance for me, lying helpless on the ground! “Julian Thorne! Julian Thorne!” I shouted his name with my last bit of strength, my voice swallowed by the cacophony of screams and cries.

Did he hear me? Perhaps he did, but he didn’t look back. Just as I despairingly thought I would be trampled to death here, that familiar figure actually came rushing back! My desolate heart suddenly flickered with a faint light. He had come back for me after all… However, Julian rushed to my side, but he didn’t even look at me. Instead, he swiftly picked up a bracelet that had fallen from my hand at some point, clutched it tightly, and turned to leave again. “Oh, thank goodness! I’m so glad you got it back for me!” Chloe’s tear-streaked smile turned into laughter from afar. “This is my favorite bracelet! If it had been crushed, I would have cried for a day and a night!” Julian hurried back to Chloe’s side, his voice filled with the relief of finding what was lost, and his usual indulgent affection: “So, to keep my baby from crying, I got it back, didn’t I?” “You’re so good!” Chloe happily kissed him. So… he had only come back for a bracelet. In his heart, I, his wife of five years, was apparently worth less than Chloe’s bracelet! A crushing wave of despair and heartbreak, like a final boulder, completely overwhelmed me. My vision went black, and I passed out completely. I regained consciousness again on a cold operating table. The surgical lights stung my eyes. The doctor was preparing instruments: “Mrs. Thorne, you’re awake? You have multiple soft tissue contusions, indications of fractured ribs, but the most severe injury is internal bleeding in your abdomen from being trampled, requiring immediate surgery…” The anesthesiologist was preparing to administer anesthesia. Suddenly, with a loud *bang*, the operating room door was violently kicked open from the outside! Several black-clad bodyguards rushed in. Without a word, they ripped out the IV in my arm and brutally dragged me off the operating table! “What are you doing! The patient needs immediate surgery!” The doctor exclaimed, both shocked and furious, trying to stop them. But the bodyguards ignored them completely, forcibly dragging me, weak and covered in blood, out of the operating room. “Let go of me… Where are you taking me…” I struggled weakly, the wounds agonizingly painful from being dragged. No one answered me. I was dragged directly to the VIP ward and roughly dumped onto the cold floor of a private room. I looked up and saw Julian Thorne sitting by the bedside, carefully giving Chloe Sterling water. Chloe looked merely a little shaken, with a few scrapes, nothing serious. Julian saw my bloodied, disheveled state, but his eyes were completely devoid of emotion, only cold indifference. He spoke, his voice as if淬了冰: “Chloe wants mini fruit tarts. I remember you make the best. Go to the hospital kitchen now and make her some.” I couldn’t believe my ears! I was covered in blood, yet he didn’t spare me a thought. Instead, because Chloe wanted fruit tarts, he had me dragged off the operating table? Years of accumulated resentment, pain, and despair finally erupted at this moment! I struggled to sit up, my voice hoarse and broken, filled with a heartbroken accusation: “Julian Thorne! You’ve gone too far! Where were you when I was being trampled to death at the auction? Your eyes were only on *her*! Now I’m severely injured and need surgery, yet you drag me here because of *her* whim! After all these years, what am I to you? I’m your lawfully wedded wife! Are you just going to degrade me like this?!” I screamed my accusations with all my might, tears mingling with the blood on my face, a pathetic and miserable sight. But Julian’s expression didn’t change at all; not even his eyes flickered. Instead, Chloe, in his arms, covered her ears in distaste, whining petulantly: “Julian, it’s so loud… She’s giving me a headache…” Julian immediately hugged her tighter, covered her ears, and gently soothed her: “Shh, don’t be scared, baby.” Then, he looked up at me, his eyes instantly turning cold and sharp: “So, after all that, you’re still unwilling to go?” My heart ashen, I stared at him. Julian lost the last shred of his patience, his voice chillingly cold: “Since that’s the case, lock her in the cold storage. She can come out when she’s willing.” The bodyguards immediately stepped forward, and despite my struggles and cries, they dragged me towards the hospital’s low-temperature cold storage for medications! The cold storage door slammed shut. The sub-zero temperature instantly enveloped me. My wounds felt as if pierced by countless icy needles, my blood almost freezing. The internal bleeding seemed to worsen. I could feel my life slipping away bit by bit… Despair and cold consumed me. Just as my consciousness was about to completely fade, and I thought I would die there, my survival instinct finally overcame that pathetic shred of dignity. With my last bit of strength, I crawled to the door, sobbing desperately, I banged on the cold metal door: “I… I’ll do it… I’ll do it… Let me out…” The cold storage door opened. I was dragged out like a rag doll and dumped in the hospital’s small kitchen. Dragging my cold, aching body, I mustered my last bit of willpower and made those mini fruit tarts. When I brought the pastries to the ward, Julian merely glanced at them, then waved his hand at the bodyguard, saying, “Take me to surgery.” Pushed back onto the operating table, the anesthetic flowed into my body, and my consciousness began to fade. My last tear slipped from the corner of my eye. Julian Thorne, from this day forward, we are strangers. I will never love you again. The days after surgery were long and agonizing. I lay alone in my hospital bed, watching the IV slowly dripping into my veins, feeling the dull, throbbing ache from my wounds. Each dressing change felt like torture. The nurse tried to be as gentle as possible, but the unmistakable pity in her eyes hurt more than the wounds. “Just bear with it a little longer, it’ll be over soon,” the nurse whispered. After she left, I faintly heard her low whispers with a colleague outside the door. “It’s truly pitiful… so severely injured, and her family hasn’t visited once. She had to force herself to sign the surgery consent forms…”

“I know, right? Meanwhile, Miss Sterling in the VIP room next door, who only has a few scrapes, Mr. Thorne has been by her side constantly. I heard he canceled several multi-billion dollar projects just to be with her…” “Such different fates!” These words were like tiny needles, pricking my heart relentlessly. But I was already numb. I just closed my eyes, turned my head towards the window, and pretended not to hear anything. On the day of my discharge, the sky was overcast. After completing the procedures, as I stepped out of the hospital entrance, my childhood friends were waiting in a car. “Elara! Over here!” Seeing the familiar smiling faces of my friends, my frozen heart finally felt a flicker of warmth. That evening, they took me to a bar we frequented, saying they wanted to celebrate my “escaping a sea of suffering and regaining my freedom.” “Good riddance! Julian Thorne doesn’t deserve you at all!” “Exactly! Our Elara is beautiful, stunning, and from a good family. Without Julian Thorne, the line of people wanting to date you would stretch from here to France!” “Yeah! Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to some hot young guys, guaranteed to be a hundred times better than Julian’s ice-cold face!” My friends joked around and teased, trying hard to cheer me up. I sipped my drink, and a long-absent smile finally returned to my face. Yes, why should I degrade myself for a man who didn’t love me? Midway, I got up to go to the restroom. When I returned, I found the booth empty, my friends gone. “Excuse me, where are my friends?” I asked a passing bartender. The bartender looked uncomfortable, pointing to a luxurious private room at the end of the corridor: “Earlier… a drunk lady insisted on ordering male escorts, and she wasn’t satisfied with anyone she saw. When she saw your friends… she just had her bodyguards drag them into that private room… There were a lot of bodyguards, we couldn’t stop them…” My heart sank instantly! My friends were well-known and respected in our social circles; ordinary people wouldn’t dare mess with them. Unless… A sense of dread instantly gripped me! I rushed forward and violently pushed open the private room door! Sure enough! Inside the private room, Chloe, completely drunk, was pulling one of my friends’ hands, trying to rub it against herself! My friend’s face was livid, but he was trying his best to hold back, as she was a woman. “Chloe Sterling! Let go of my friend!” I sharply commanded, stepping forward to pull her away. Just then, with a *bang*, the private room door was violently kicked open from the outside! Julian Thorne stormed in, his face frigid, and grabbed Chloe’s wrist, his voice laced with suppressed fury: “Chloe! What are you doing in a place like this?!” Chloe immediately shook off his hand, her eyes blurry with intoxication, pointed at my friends, her tone haughty: “I came to order male escorts! Can’t you see?! These guys are good; I want them to keep me company!” “Nonsense! Absolutely not!” Julian’s face darkened further, and he reached out to pull her away. But Chloe violently pushed him away and started crying pitifully: “You can mess around, so why can’t I?! You can smile at other women! And spend hours alone in your office with that female client! Why can’t I come out and order male escorts!” His assistant quickly stepped forward to explain: “Miss Sterling, you’ve misunderstood! Mr. Thorne was in a very important business deal; there was absolutely nothing between him and the client…” “I don’t care!” Chloe wouldn’t listen, throwing a drunken fit, she reached out to grab my friend’s hand again, “Anyway, if you can be intimate with other women, so can I!” “Enough!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood in front of my friends: “Your flirting and bickering are your business! Don’t involve and harass my friends!” Julian’s icy gaze finally fell on me, then swept over the group of handsome, distinguished men behind me, his face instantly darkening horribly: “Elara Vance, I warned you, don’t harbor any ill intentions towards Chloe. What, isn’t it enough that *you* won’t back off, now you’re having your friends try to seduce her?” I couldn’t believe my ears! Seduce?! “Julian Thorne, are you blind?! Chloe is clearly the one harassing my friends!” Julian was about to say something else, but Chloe, seeing that he didn’t instantly soothe her, stomped her foot in anger and ran out! “Chloe!” Julian immediately chased after her, his voice instantly turning anxious and doting: “Alright, alright, don’t be mad. It’s my fault. I’ll never have a private meeting with any other woman again, okay? Hmm?” He even looked back, and coldly ordered his bodyguards: “For these men, whoever touched Miss Sterling, break their hand.” With that, he ran after Chloe without a backward glance. The bodyguards immediately stepped forward, ready to strike. I couldn’t believe it. I lunged in front of my friends, my voice sharp and furious: “How dare you! Open your eyes and see clearly! Were *they* the ones who started it?! Chloe was harassing them first! They are my friends, well-known and respected in our social circles. Try to lay a hand on them, I dare you!” The lead bodyguard said expressionlessly: “Miss Vance, please don’t make this difficult for us. Your friends may have good family backgrounds, but in Mr. Thorne’s eyes, they’re nothing. It would be effortless for Mr. Thorne to bankrupt their families with a single word. I have to answer to Mr. Thorne.” My entire body went cold. Anger and powerlessness almost drowned me.

I knew the bodyguard was speaking the truth. For the first time, I hated myself for marrying Julian Thorne. Not only had I endured endless humiliation, but I’d also dragged my best friends into this! I took a deep breath, suppressed the surging emotions, my gaze resolute: “Alright, I’ll give you your answer!” I snatched up a decorative metal rod nearby and, under the shocked gaze of everyone and my friends, brought it down hard on my left wrist! A sharp *crack*! Excruciating pain instantly flared, and my left hand fell limp. “Elara!” My friends cried out in dismay, rushing over to support me. My face was ashen, cold sweat pouring down me, but I forced myself to say to the bodyguard: “Now, you can go report back, right? I took this blow for my friends!” The bodyguard gave me a complicated look, then finally said nothing more and turned to leave. “Why are you so foolish!” My friends were heartbroken, hurriedly helping me up. “We could have fought them!” “We can’t win against them…” I shook my head weakly, my lips trembling from the pain. “It’s alright, my hand… my hand can be fixed…” My friends were distraught. They quickly helped me out, preparing to take me to the hospital to get my hand treated. Just as we stepped out of the bar, we suddenly heard a fierce argument coming from the second-floor balcony. I instinctively looked up and saw Chloe, somehow, had climbed onto the balcony edge, swaying precariously! “Don’t come any closer! I haven’t forgiven you! If you take another step, I’ll jump!” Chloe cried out. Julian Thorne stood a few steps away, his usually calm and composed face showed a rare panic: “Chloe! Don’t do anything foolish! Come down! Anything you want, I’ll do it!” “Really, anything?” Chloe asked, sobbing. “Really! Even if it means my life!” Listening from below, I felt both absurd and chilling. How much did he love Chloe to accept even such a ridiculous threat? Just then, seemingly appeased by Julian, Chloe carefully tried to step down from the balcony edge, but suddenly her foot slipped! “Ah—!” Amidst everyone’s horrified gasps, Chloe plummeted straight down from the second floor! And directly below, was me, who had just stepped out the door! CRASH! The tremendous force of the heavy impact made my vision go black. I was instantly slammed to the ground, serving as a complete human cushion, excruciating pain sweeping through my entire body! Julian Thorne rushed down from upstairs like a madman. Seeing the scene on the ground, he desperately, without hesitation, scooped up a terrified Chloe, his voice trembling: “Chloe! Chloe, are you alright? Don’t be scared, I’m taking you to the hospital right away!” He held Chloe and rushed to his car at top speed. From beginning to end, he didn’t spare a single glance for me, lying beneath the woman he loved most, my fate unknown. My friends watched Julian’s car disappear into the distance, shaking with fury, but could only hurry to take me, severely injured, to the hospital. When I next woke up in the hospital, only a nurse was beside me. “Miss Vance, you’re awake? Luckily, your friends brought you here in time… They had urgent company matters and left, saying to notify them once you woke up…” “No need,” I interrupted, my voice hoarse. “They’re very busy; don’t bother them.” The nurse looked at me, her eyes filled with sympathy: “But you need someone to take care of you…” “I’ll be fine on my own.” I closed my eyes, locking away all my vulnerability deep inside. Thereafter followed long and lonely days of recovery. I ate alone, changed my own dressings, took care of myself. On the day of my discharge, I completed the procedures myself and returned to the mansion. I began to pack my things, throwing all the gifts, clothes, and even so-called ‘couple’s items’ I’d secretly bought—all chosen with so much love, yet never once truly noticed by Julian—into the trash. Just as I was dragging my exhausted body, clearing out the last of my belongings, the main door opened. Julian Thorne walked in, his arm around Chloe Sterling’s waist. He didn’t even glance at me, standing there, discarding things. He spoke directly to Mr. Peterson, who was waiting nearby: “Chloe needs quiet recuperation for a while, she’ll be staying here. Prepare the master bedroom with the best natural light. Replace all the furnishings with new ones, according to her taste. She likes pink, the bedding must be silk, the curtains the best blackout ones, fresh white roses to be changed daily in the room, and her food…” He gave meticulous instructions, down to the smallest detail, his tone earnest and focused. I stood at the top of the stairs, listening to these words, my heart feeling like it was soaking in ice water. I remembered when I first moved in here, Julian had merely had his assistant escort me to the guest room, with a cold “If you need anything, ask the butler.” Love and indifference, they truly were this stark. I lowered my head, intending to silently go upstairs. “Stop!” Chloe suddenly called out, her eyes red-rimmed, pointing at the dress I was wearing: “Why are you wearing matching clothes with Julian?” I paused, realizing then that Julian was wearing a dark blue shirt today, and I was in an old dark blue dress. The colors were just similar. I was about to speak, but Chloe was already throwing an unrelenting tantrum: “Julian is *mine*! No one but me can wear the same color as him! Take it off! Take it off right now!” I couldn’t believe my ears: “It’s just a coincidence…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298902”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

Born into the Kingston family, I had my pick of men, yet I ended up marrying Liam Hayes, a man who might as well have been mute. The first year of our marriage, I was home alone one night, burning up with fever. I managed to send ten desperate voice messages to Liam on FaceTime, begging him to come home. Not a single reply. The second year, I was robbed on a foreign street, nearly having my throat slit. I called Liam, who was at a nearby conference, for help. Twenty calls, all unanswered. The fifth year, my car’s central control system malfunctioned on the highway. I was pregnant and suffered a massive hemorrhage, my life hanging by a thread. The surgeons desperately needed a guardian’s signature. I called him, but all I heard was the endless ringing. In despair, I signed the surgical consent form myself. On the operating table, I silently felt my child slipping away, bit by painful bit. That was it. My heart finally gave up on him. The moment I was off the operating table, I stormed into Liam’s office with a hammer and smashed his phone to pieces. “If you can’t read messages or answer calls, what’s the point of keeping it!” Liam stood calmly to the side, letting me rage. Until a specially set message tone rang from his shattered phone, only to be instantly silenced by my hammer. A flicker of emotion finally crossed his calm face. He quickly grabbed his car keys and rushed downstairs. Furious, I hailed a cab and followed his car closely. Half an hour later, his car pulled into a high-end apartment complex. Under the bright sun, I saw a woman, pale and visibly pregnant, carefully stepping out of the building. From her profile, she looked young and pretty.

Liam rushed forward. After listening to her tearful complaints, he carefully scooped her up into his arms. “The baby will be fine, don’t be scared…” His low, comforting voice reached my ears. I clutched the car window, squeezing so hard my nails broke, tiny streaks of blood welling up. I never knew that my husband of five years, with whom I shared a life day in and day out, would respond so promptly to a SnapChat message. That he would show such worry, such tenderness. That he would have… another woman, and a child. I trembled all over, tears streaming down my face from a bitter laugh. It had to be this day, the day I lost my own child, that I witnessed all of this firsthand. I stumbled home in a daze and collapsed onto the bed. The child I lost came to me in a dream, calling me “Mommy,” repeating “I’m sorry” over and over. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my wrist. The child vanished, replaced by Liam’s utterly cold face. “Zara lost her baby because you threw a fit and smashed my phone. I didn’t see her message in time to make arrangements.” The calmer his tone, the tighter his grip. My wrist felt like it was about to shatter. I let out a laugh. “Dead? Good. Why should your child live when mine is gone!” Liam stared at me, his face turning terrifying. After a long silence, he climbed onto the bed and began to strip my clothes, almost maniacally saying, “You owe her a child. Get pregnant and miscarry to pay her back.” “Liam Hayes!” I shrieked, my heart numb with pain. I talked about *my* child, *our* child, but he… didn’t hear me. It turned out his world, even face-to-face, was closed off to me. He was always ‘read,’ but never ‘replied’! I struggled desperately, my fingers brushing against the fruit knife on the nightstand. I grabbed it and plunged it into his chest. I hated him. I wanted him dead! But Liam didn’t die, only suffered a minor injury. I visited him in the hospital with my lawyer. He was in an online meeting with a client, not even sparing me a glance— He never tolerated interruptions during work. His phone on the nightstand suddenly chimed with that special message alert. Liam picked it up, glanced at it, paused the meeting, and typed out a long reply. I caught a glimpse of the chat name: Zara Miller. My heart instantly turned cold, an overwhelming emptiness settling in. So, Liam *could* be prompt with replies, even if it meant interrupting an important international meeting. They chatted for a full ten minutes before the meeting resumed. Another hour passed, and the meeting ended. I finally spoke, “Let’s get a divorce. You’re the one at fault, so you’ll have to compensate me generously in the property division.” Liam looked up at me, his cold eyes slightly surprised. “Zara’s child isn’t mine. I’ve never been physically intimate with her, and I never will be.” Then he changed tack: “But I’ll do everything I can for her. You’d better not try anything against her.” That guarded look pierced my heart. “How long have you two… why…” “A year.” Liam ignored the second question, pulling out a photo of Zara from his wallet and handing it to me. Then, without looking at me, he signed the divorce papers. “I hope to really see you at the registry in a month.” He said it with a hint of sarcasm. I didn’t react, just stared at his wallet, almost burning a hole through it with my gaze. My photo had never been in there. After a long moment, I tore my gaze from his wallet and looked at Zara’s face. After a brief愣神, I took a deep breath. “You will.” Liam didn’t believe I would actually go through with the divorce. Perhaps he was used to my pursuit. After all, I had endured five years of marriage where I sent ten thousand messages and he gave zero replies. But this time, I was truly awake. Turning around, I walked to the door. Liam frowned and called out to me. “That villa in the South District you liked? I’ve transferred it to Zara. It has a forest oxygen bar, which will be good for her recovery after giving birth.” My hand clenched into a fist, my nails digging deeply into my palm. “I told you, didn’t I? That house was the first gift I intended for our baby, even though… she’s gone now.” There was no response from behind me. I looked back. Liam was typing on his phone, his attention already elsewhere. Hah. I quickly left the hospital room, as if putting distance between myself and this place could also distance me from this failed relationship. Fleeing to my car, I pulled out that photo again, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. It was uncanny. Zara Miller looked *so much* like Daisy Stone, Liam Hayes’s deceased first love. The woman Liam truly wanted to marry. Five years ago, the Hayes family faced a financial crisis. Only the Kingston family extended an olive branch. The condition was to form a marital alliance, strengthening the bond between our families. My father had long seen my affection for Liam, so he intended to help his daughter find happiness. Our families met immediately. I looked at Liam boldly, my eyes full of stars. But when he spoke, he said he wanted to marry Daisy Stone, my stepmother’s daughter. That’s when I learned they were in love. Family came first. There was no need to risk investing in the Hayes family for a stepdaughter. My father decisively withdrew the marriage proposal and advised me to give up on Liam. “Sweetheart, a good marriage is built on mutual affection. Otherwise, you’ll only suffer.” I had initially given up the idea.

But Liam, desperate to save his family, contacted me privately to express his intention to marry. He only took me out for dinner once, and I was completely lost, tossing my father’s words aside. I confidently believed that his change of heart meant he had feelings for me, and with my beauty and good nature, he would eventually fall in love with me. Our wedding, supported by my father’s wealth, was grand. It should have been a day filled with bubbling happiness whenever I recalled it. Unfortunately, before the banquet ended, news of Daisy Stone’s suicide arrived, abruptly ending all joy. My memory of that day is only of Liam rushing out of the wedding hall, my stepmother’s wails, countless whispers, and my father’s heartbroken gaze. Their honeymoon was canceled. Everything was in disarray. For the first six months of our marriage, Liam simply didn’t reply to messages, claiming he preferred phone calls. Six months later, the Hayes family’s fortunes rose, unstoppable. Then, he stopped answering calls altogether. He was like a black hole; I poured all my joys and sorrows into him, but not even an echo came back. I broke down, confronted him, and demanded to know why. Liam showed me SnapChat messages from our wedding day. It turned out Daisy had messaged him before she took her own life, but I had dragged him away to toast guests, making him miss the chance to save her. He hated himself, and he hated me. Now he found a substitute who resembled her by eighty percent, channeling all his emotions into her, treating her a hundred times better than me. I snapped out of my memories, crumpled the photo, and tossed it away. I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror— My face was ashen, my hair frizzy and disheveled. I looked like a madwoman. For five years, I clung to Liam, unwilling to let go. The less he responded, the more messages I sent, as if possessed, desperate to force a single reply from him. Yet, all I did was torture myself. Countless breakdowns, fits of rage, followed by solitary moments of calm and healing. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in five years. “Is the promise from five years ago still valid?” When I got married, a man had tried to dissuade me three times. I talked about love; he talked about sex. “Liam is too rigid. Trust me, he’ll be just as boring in bed. What you need is a fire.” I laughed, “Who’s the fire? You?” He raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying. “Aria, I bet you two will break up within five years. If I win, consider me first.” “I’m still single, so, of course, it counts.” His familiar voice on the other end brought me back to reality. “I’m divorcing in a month. I don’t need love, I just need a man to have some fun with for a while, to let loose.” He burst out laughing. “Alright, sweetheart! I’ll play along!” I hung up, went home, tidied myself up, and prepared for my mother’s death anniversary the next day. Every year, my father took my mother’s death anniversary very seriously. The next day, when my father and I met, he looked displeased not seeing Liam with me. “He can’t make it again? Can’t spare even an hour?” I stepped forward and linked my arm through his, forcing a lighthearted smile. “Dad, we’re getting a divorce. I initiated it.” “It doesn’t matter whether he comes or not!” My father stared at me for a long moment, then gently patted my head. “Cut your losses. My daughter did the right thing.” We lit incense before my mother’s portrait, then went to the kitchen to cook her favorite homemade dishes. Just as we finished setting the table, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes stormed in, and Mrs. Hayes, without a word, slapped me hard across the face. “Mr. Kingston! Look at the good daughter you raised! She stabbed my son and put him in the hospital, and she hasn’t even gone to care for him! Is that how a wife behaves?!” I snapped back to reality, stepped forward to shield my enraged father, and without hesitation, slapped Mrs. Hayes back. Then I snatched my phone and called Liam. It rang once, then connected. *That* was fast. I sneered, “Your parents are making a scene at my house. Get over here and get them out. Today’s my mom’s death anniversary!” Liam’s voice was as calm as ever: “I… can’t leave the hospital right now.” “Liam honey~ Which sofa do you think would look better in the villa you gave me? Come sit and help me decide.” Zara’s sugary voice came from the background. I gripped the phone tightly, about to speak, when I heard Liam say, “You can’t eat anything cold right now.” Then, the call disconnected. I stood there, staring blankly, like a statue. Mrs. Hayes scoffed, “You hit his mother, and you expect him to side with you? Dream on! Not to mention, you’ve never won his heart in these five years.” With that, she arrogantly swept the entire table of dishes—that my father and I hadn’t even had a chance to “offer” to Mother—onto the floor. The shattered dishes knocked over Mother’s portrait, and it broke. I came to my senses, held my trembling father back, and looked at my in-laws, whom I had respectfully treated for five years. “I tolerated you before because I cared about Liam. Now, I don’t even care about him, let alone you!” Leaving that statement hanging, I grabbed two bodyguards, a man and a woman, and drove straight to Mr. and Mrs. Hayes’s house. The two bodyguards ensured I wasn’t disturbed. I personally took a baseball bat and started smashing things from the living room, all the way to Mrs. Hayes’s favorite walk-in closet. Amidst Mrs. Hayes’s frantic screams over her precious jewelry, Liam strode in and grabbed my arm. “Haven’t you had enough?” I panted, looked up at him, and smiled. “Oh, you have time now? You got here so fast, less than fifteen minutes.” I forcefully pushed him away, dropped the bat, and walked towards the door. A figure stood by the door, peeking in. Seeing me, she quickly said, “I’m so sorry, it was my fault for delaying Liam. He didn’t mean to ignore you…” Zara’s carefully crafted ‘innocent’ act. I couldn’t be bothered to engage. As I brushed past, she retreated, apologizing profusely, and then sat down hard on the floor. “Oh… my stomach hurts so much…” “Zara.” Liam rushed over to support her, lightly bumping into me. This slight force shouldn’t have been enough to make me fall, but my lower abdomen suddenly cramped, the pain was excruciating.

My vision went black, and I instantly fell to my knees. Sweat pouring down my face, I braced myself on the floor and looked up. Just a yard away, Liam had scooped Zara into his arms, his posture tender and doting. Zara’s face was flushed, well-cared for by Liam; there was no sign of pain. Hearing the thud as I fell, Liam frowned. “Are you trying to fake an injury to frame Zara, planning to blame her first?” Mrs. Hayes let out a snicker. I wanted to laugh too. I, a young lady cherished by my father, how did I let this marriage degrade me so? I bit my lip, bracing myself against the door frame, slowly rising to my feet. Mrs. Hayes watched with cold eyes. “Zara has a gentle nature. She suits Liam well.” “Indeed,” I nodded, gasping, “A family that relies on my Kingston family’s money to recover but shows no gratitude, only deserves a cheap trick you could buy for a few bucks, someone only fit to be *your* kind of daughter-in-law.” “Silence!” Liam took two steps forward, his voice sharp. Zara hooked her foot, using the forward momentum to kick me hard. I swayed, stumbling several times, clutching the door frame to avoid falling again. My lower abdomen ached fiercely, and the footprint on my chest hurt just as much. I stared blankly at the gray mark; it was like a brand of humiliation, completely shattering this marriage. Liam had lost his composure, a rare sight. Unfortunately, it was all for a woman who worked in a shady massage parlor. I had investigated. It was this low-class woman who made Liam anxious, worried, and impulsive. And now, she was even riding high, using his influence to walk all over me. I slowly raised my gaze, cold sweat running into my eyes, blurring Liam’s face. He looked nothing like the man who once made my heart pound. Perhaps, both of them were now unrecognizable. “Go clean yourself up before you come down. I married a lady, not a lunatic.” Liam said flatly. “Liam Hayes,” I tilted my head and smiled, “Why didn’t you just die?” I lunged forward, plunging the utility knife in my hand into his chest. This was the second time he’d been stabbed, and it took Liam a long time to react. His parents wrestled me away, but he just stared blankly into my eyes, his voice unsteady: “You… you really want me dead?” My eyes were bloodshot. The “yes” caught in my throat was cut off by Mrs. Hayes’s shriek. “She’s bleeding so much!” Everyone looked in the direction I was pointing—a large patch of crimson had spread across my dress, darkest at my upper thigh. “Aria!” Liam, oblivious to his own wound, shot up and rushed over, embracing me. His voice held a panic I’d never heard before. “What’s wrong with you? You… get the car! Get the car!” My eyes had lost focus, but my hand gripped the hallway railing tightly, refusing to let go. My voice was barely a whisper: “Bodyguard… take me, take me to the hospital… bodyguard… housekeeper…” “I’ll take you! You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine…” Liam fumbled to pry my hand off, but couldn’t. “I don’t believe you!” I suddenly shrieked, “You wouldn’t be that kind! You’ve never cared about me… you wouldn’t… Bodyguard! Bodyguard! Help me!” Only when I clasped Chloe’s hand did I finally faint. Liam carried me, running all the way to the car, his hand gently cradling my head. Over the years, he was used to me glaring at him, always ready for a fight. He had never seen me so frail. Sweat and blood soaked me through. My once taut bowstring had withered into a thin piece of wood, ready to snap with a slight squeeze. Liam pressed his face against my cold one, repeating “You’ll be fine,” “You’ll be fine”… I didn’t know if he was saying it to me, or to himself. I woke up when it was dark. “Miss Kingston, how do you feel? Should I call the doctor?” Chloe rushed forward to ask. Only Mason and she were in the room. “Where’s Liam?” My voice was faint. “Zara Miller… was hospitalized. Mr. Hayes went to the room next door an hour ago.” She paused, then continued, “Your father called. I told him you were out with friends.” “Good job.” I took out my phone, found a video I always kept in my album, and sent it to my father—a clip of me drinking at a bar, to reassure him. Exiting the chat, I saw a new friend request. As soon as I accepted it, “Zara” sent a flurry of pictures. ‘The day I miscarried, Liam stayed by my bedside the whole time, just like this, sleeping slumped over.’ ‘That night, I called him, heartbroken about losing the baby. He came right away to comfort me, still in his hospital gown.’ ‘Just now, I said my stomach felt uncomfortable, and he fed me porridge and peeled fruit. Miss Kingston, do you know how skilled your husband is at peeling fruit with a knife?’ I looked at the photo of the perfectly peeled apple skin, thin and even, showing his excellent knife work. *No, I don’t,* I thought. ‘It’s fine if you look down on me, Miss Kingston. Liam looking up to me is enough. Seeing you almost die from a hemorrhage is pretty pitiful, so I told Liam to come check on you.’ A minute later, Liam indeed came into the room. He looked at me, his deep eyes holding an emotion I couldn’t decipher. Just then, the attending physician came in. Liam asked, “Why did Aria… hemorrhage so badly?” The doctor looked at him in surprise. Just as he was about to say, “After her miscarriage, she didn’t recover properly,” I spoke, cutting him off. “I know my own body, no need to ask.”

Liam sat by the hospital bed, watched me for a long moment, then gently took my hand. “I had the chef at home make some porridge. Want some?” I managed a strange smile. “Sure.” Liam opened the thermos, scooped out a small bowl, and brought a spoonful to my lips. Zara’s exact same porridge. Zara’s exact same caring gesture. I slapped his hand away, knocking the entire bowl to the floor. I slowly and meticulously wiped my hand with a tissue. “My apologies, but I hate red dates, and I hate sweet porridge.” “My chef has worked for five years and still doesn’t know my taste. Your effort was wasted, fire him.” Liam called someone to clean up, his emotions steady. “What would you like to eat? I’ll have the chef make it.” I didn’t want to talk. Liam called the chef, asking about my preferences, then listed dishes one by one, watching for any reaction from me. “Shrimp porridge. That’s it.” He finally said. I said coldly, “My accident has nothing to do with your Hayes family. You can go. No need to waste your time here. We’re already divorced, anyway!” Liam didn’t listen. He went to the bathroom, wet a towel, and came back to wipe my hands and face. Before, I begged him to come, and he didn’t hear. Now, I ordered him to leave, and he still didn’t hear. I threw the water glass at him. “Get out!” Liam’s shirt was soaked, but he didn’t even look. He moved everything from the nightstand within my reach. “Keep throwing. Once you’re done, keep cleaning yourself. You’re sticky with sweat, you’ll be uncomfortable.” I kept throwing things at him. When everything was thrown, Liam picked them up and motioned for me to continue. The third time, I couldn’t throw anymore, letting him wipe my body like he was caring for a paralyzed elder. After he fed me the porridge, Liam’s phone chimed with that special alert. He stood up. “Zara is still in her post-miscarriage recovery and isn’t feeling well. I’ll go check on her.” He didn’t return all night. In the morning, my friend, the doctor, came to check on me, asking why I had hidden the miscarriage from Liam last night. “When he brought you in for emergency care, his chest wound was covered in blood. Everyone advised him to get it bandaged, but he wouldn’t listen. He only went after you were out of the emergency room. Aria, if you had seen how distraught he was, you’d know he absolutely cares about you.” “I know. I was slightly conscious then, I felt it.” I looked out the window, the sunlight stinging my eyes, making me squint. “That’s why I’m scared. Scared that if he knew and felt a little pity for me, I’d fall for him again. My bottom line for him is… incredibly low.” But a human life stood between them. Liam would never be able to cross that chasm and truly connect with me. The illness took a heavy toll on me. I stayed in the hospital for five days, then recuperated at home for a full week. Those five days, Liam, uncharacteristically, pushed aside his work to care for me. For the following week, he was on a business trip. But from the provocative videos and pictures Zara sent me, I knew he had taken her along. Liam always hated mixing business with pleasure. When we first got married, I wanted to accompany him on business trips to help him with his daily life, but he refused, saying I was too much of a free spirit. Now, I wondered how many times he had broken his own rules for Zara. ‘I told him I’d never been to Shanghai, so Liam brought me along. Your husband is so thoughtful.’ ‘He took me to a revolving restaurant and Disneyland, promising to show me an even bigger world in the future.’ ‘He took all these pictures of me. I love taking photos so much; we took them for two whole hours. Your husband is so patient, and his photography skills are amazing!’ I had never enjoyed any of these, not even once. I didn’t know his heart was so soft, so accommodating; I didn’t know he was such a good photographer… How ridiculous. I was learning about my own husband from another woman. I typed a reply: ‘Why no bed pictures? Don’t you want to sleep with him?’ The other end went instantly silent. I tossed my phone aside and called the housekeeper. “Pack all of Liam’s belongings into boxes.” This was our marital home, bought by my father. I personally decorated it when I was full of happy illusions about love. In a week, we would be divorced. Liam was the one who should leave. Returning from his business trip, Liam sensed a change in the house. But I liked to rearrange the decor, so he didn’t pay much attention, handing me a gift. “My work is temporarily finished. I can spend three days with you. Where do you want to go? A change of scenery would be good for your health.” I was astonished. All these years, he had never proactively offered to spend time with me. Many travel itineraries I had eagerly planned were canceled, day after day, due to his “busy work schedule.” The refusal was already on my lips, but then vivid images of all the plans I had carefully made flashed in my mind. That was the accumulated resentment of five years. After a long pause, I said: “Let’s drive to the beach. I love the sand.” Let this terrible marriage have a somewhat dignified farewell. I opened the gift box and took out the LV cashmere shawl. Even though the color didn’t match my taste at all, I graciously put it on. Liam drove the sports car as I requested. Halfway there, his phone chimed with that special message alert. ‘Liam, I twisted my ankle, it hurts so much.’ Liam immediately called Zara and simultaneously changed the navigation—he actually had my location on a couple’s app. I stared intently at the app. I checked online; it was indeed a couple’s app. At this point, did it even matter if they were physically intimate?

My head throbbed. I rolled down the window, letting the wind rush in to carry away the sudden surge of emotions. “Liam Hayes, I ask for nothing from you. You offered to take me on this trip, you should follow through.” “Turning back will take two hours. Do you expect me to sit in a car all morning?! My body can’t handle it, you arrange someone else—” “I don’t trust anyone else.” Liam calmly interrupted me. I was utterly speechless, my eyes welling up slightly. A twisted ankle, and he said he didn’t trust anyone else. So what were all those years I endured alone—the high fever, the fear of almost being slit, the car accident…? Did it mean I was tough, capable of surviving without anyone’s care? “Liam, I’m sorry to bother you again.” The car picked up Zara, and Liam helped her in. I glanced over inadvertently and froze— Zara had an identical shawl draped over her shoulder, only its color scheme was much prettier than mine, exactly my style. “Liam Hayes, who chose the shawl for me?” I asked, enunciating each word. Zara said, “Miss Kingston, don’t you like yours? There were only two left at the counter then. I thought you, being older, might prefer a more mature style, so I picked the younger color first.” She looked apologetic. “Shall we swap?” I couldn’t be bothered with her. My gaze was fixed on Liam. “You gave me the leftovers? Am I, Aria Kingston, a garbage bin?!” I ripped off the shawl and threw it out the car window. Zara looked as if she was too scared to speak. Liam gently patted her shoulder. “It’s fine.” He buckled her seatbelt, then got into the driver’s seat, saying indifferently, “It’s just a different color. You make such a big deal out of everything, no wonder you’re always unhappy.” After a long silence, I scoffed. “So you *do* see that I’m unhappy.” He saw, but he never cared. The car changed course and headed to the hospital. By the time Zara emerged after getting a plaster cast, the entire morning was gone, and my planned trip was still at square one. “Let’s have lunch first. Zara is hungry, and you probably are too.” Liam said to me, his gaze shifting to Zara in the back seat. “Do you want Thai food or Xinjiang cuisine?” Zara smiled, asking in an affectedly innocent tone, “Liam, how do you remember I like these two cuisines? You’re amazing!” Liam offered a slight smile. “If you put your mind to it, it’s not hard to remember.” That smile was like a curved blade, carving a deep gash in my heart. Zara continued, “And what do I like to drink, do you remember?” “Fresh orange juice.” “What’s my favorite fruit?” “Durian.” “My favorite way to cook ribs?” “Braised.” “What does Miss Kingston like to eat?” Liam, who had answered effortlessly, stumbled. I said coldly, “If you want to be all lovey-dovey, go get a hotel room. Don’t be disgusting and flirt in my car.” Liam frowned. “Do you only have such sordid thoughts in your head? Zara is like a sister to me.” Zara’s eyes reddened. “Miss Kingston, I’m sorry if I caused a misunderstanding. I… I won’t say anything else. Liam, please pull over and drop me off. I’m not that hungry, actually.” Liam gave me a reproachful look and decisively said: “It’s lunchtime. We’re all eating together.” I folded my arms. “Fine. I want French cuisine.” This time, Liam didn’t object, indulging me. He drove the car to the restaurant entrance but didn’t get out. “Zara isn’t used to French cuisine, and her foot is injured, so she needs someone to look after her. I’ll eat Xinjiang food with her and pick you up afterward.” Before I could speak, the car glided forward and drove off. I watched the tail lights under the scorching sun, standing there for a long while. That car was a birthday gift I bought for Liam in our first year of marriage. I still remembered my excitement and hope that he would be surprised. But Liam had only glanced at it and never driven it. Today was his first time. I waited five years for that dream to come true, only for him to drive off, leaving me behind with another woman. So, no thank you, Liam Hayes. I won’t always wait for you. I don’t *have* to wait for you. After lunch, I called a cab and my bodyguards, heading to the beach alone. My itinerary and hotel were already booked; I didn’t want to waste them. During this time, Liam called three times in total, which was a lot for him. I didn’t answer any of them. The first day, I did all the activities I wanted, went to all the places I desired, and found quite a bit of enjoyment. The second day, as I walked along the beach, I unexpectedly ran into Zara. Liam stood beside her, carrying bags of food, and was using a tissue to wipe her mouth. Seeing me, his movements paused. “When did you arrive? Why didn’t you leave a message? Zara and I looked for you for a long time yesterday. She’s still recovering from her miscarriage and twisted her ankle, so she’s exhausted—” And what about me? I was tossed around in the car for over five hours yesterday because of her. Was *I* not exhausted? I suppressed these meaningless arguments, turned around expressionlessly, and walked towards the sea, leaving them behind. Zara jogged to catch up, her lowered voice dripping with smugness. “Miss Kingston, you’re really boring. No matter how much time you waste on Liam, his heart will only ever be with me.” I chuckled. “Only with you? You’ve been with him this long and you still don’t know you’re just a substitute?” Watching Zara’s face drain of color didn’t actually feel that satisfying. I idly kicked the seawater when suddenly a force yanked me forward, and my feet lost purchase— Below me was an underwater cliff, bottomless and black! “Miss Kingston, your high-and-mighty attitude is really annoying. I heard Liam say you’re not a great swimmer. I wonder if this will teach you a lesson~” Zara let go of me and swam away gracefully. The water at the cliff was icy cold, and I was only a mediocre swimmer to begin with. I panicked instantly. I choked on several gulps of water, struggling to paddle towards the shore, but a current pulled me further and further away. Panic-stricken cries came from nearby; it turned out the same rip current had also caught Zara. But she was much stronger; at least she could breathe normally. In the churning waves, I saw Liam. He was rushing towards us, swimming so fast, so fiercely. I instinctively grabbed his arm, tilting my face out of the water to catch a breath. But my hand was violently shaken off and pushed away. Before I could even gasp, I plunged back into the sea. The suffocating sensation rapidly spread through my entire body. This time, I had no strength left to struggle. I could only watch helplessly as Liam steadily swam Zara to safety nearby. Darkness rushed in, and I slowly sank into the deep sea… “Miss Kingston? Miss Kingston? How do you feel?” I coughed up a mouthful of seawater, opening my eyes to find myself lying on the beach, with my two soaked bodyguards beside me. I gripped Chloe’s hand tightly, staring motionless at the azure sky above, until my eyes stung and a tear slipped from the corner.

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My dad wanted to test my wife’s work ethic, so he arranged for me to conduct a surprise inspection of the company she managed. I figured it would just be a formality. But the moment I walked in, I saw a young, baby-faced college student staring blankly at a paper shredder. “Wow, this machine is so cool!” He picked up a contract from a nearby desk, looking ready to feed it in. A colleague next to him gasped, his face draining of color, and quickly stopped him: “Oh my god, Leo, what are you doing? Weren’t you playing games in the office? Why are you out here?” The guy just grinned. “Heh heh, just a little thirsty.” No sooner had he said it than his hand, holding a cup, wobbled. The entire cup of water accidentally splashed onto the main power switch. The whole company plunged into darkness, and the office erupted in cries of despair. I grabbed a young intern nearby and asked him who on earth hired this idiot. The intern immediately made a shushing gesture. “Keep it down, man. He’s, like, Ms. Hayes’s partner. Rumor has it, this whole company actually belongs to *him*.” “Are you new here? You’ll get used to it in a few days. He usually just plays games in Ms. Hayes’s office and doesn’t bother us much.” My head started to throb. He’s Ms. Hayes’s partner? Then what in the world am *I*? I pulled out my phone and called my dad. “Dad, no need for the inspection. Tell Ellie to come to the office with the divorce papers.”

Dad sent me to the company to evaluate Ellie. He said it was a routine check, told me not to stress, just to get familiar with the business. I thought it was just a formality. I reported my identity as an inspector from headquarters to the front desk, and she respectfully swiped me through the security gate. The moment I stepped into the office area, I saw a man. He was dressed neatly, in a college-style white shirt, squatting in front of the paper shredder, his face full of curiosity. “Wow, this machine is so cool! Can it eat anything?” He said, casually picking up a file from a nearby desk. On the cover of that file, “MERGER AGREEMENT” was boldly written in red. Without a second thought, he tried to feed the contract into the shredder. A spectacled colleague next to him instantly went pale. He lunged forward, practically tackling the man, snatching the contract away just in time. “Oh my god, Leo, what are you doing? Weren’t you playing games in the office?” His voice was strained with terror. “Why are you out here? We need this contract this afternoon!” The man was bumped, but didn’t seem annoyed at all. Instead, he flashed a wide grin and rattled his empty cup. “Got tired of gaming, so I’m a bit thirsty.” The colleague let out a shaky breath, hugging the contract tightly as if his life depended on it. He lowered his voice, pleading. “Then please, go get some water! I beg you, go drink it in your office, okay? Doesn’t Ms. Hayes’s office have a private water cooler?” The man scratched his nose. “The water in there doesn’t taste good. I want the water out here.” He said, not bothering with the colleague’s nearly tearful expression, and turned towards the breakroom. My head started to throb watching this scene unfold. I pulled a young intern standing nearby. “Who is that?” The intern glanced at me, then quickly at the man’s retreating back, his eyes full of apprehension. He put a finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture. “Keep it down, sir.” He leaned closer to my ear, his voice barely a whisper. “He’s our Ms. Hayes’s husband, Leo Maxwell.” My heart lurched. Ellie’s recent strange behaviors suddenly made perfect sense. The intern continued. “I heard this whole company belongs to him, so he’s the real boss here.” “You must be new, right? You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He sighed, a weariness on his face that didn’t match his age. “He usually just stays in Ms. Hayes’s private office, playing games and watching shows. He doesn’t usually interact with us.” “Ms. Hayes must be out for a meeting today, and nobody’s around to entertain him, so he came out to stretch his legs.” My mind buzzed as I listened to him. He’s Ms. Hayes’s husband. So what am *I*? The intern noticed my expression and asked with concern. “Sir, are you okay? You look awful.” I shook my head and forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a little surprised.” “To think there are people like that in the company… quite an eye-opener.” The intern gave a bitter smile and shrugged. “You’ll get used to it. He never really *does* anything. We just bear with it and pray he gets bored and goes back to her office soon.” I didn’t say anything else. He never really *does* anything? If that contract had been shredded, a multi-million dollar project would have been stalled. Who would bear the losses? I watched Leo’s back as he emerged from the breakroom, humming a tune. I pulled out my phone, intending to call my dad directly. But after a moment’s thought, I put it back. Leaving like this would be too easy for Ellie. Dad sent me here to evaluate her competence. And now, it seemed her competence, and her character, were deeply flawed. I wanted to see just how ridiculous this company had become under her management. I straightened my clothes and walked to the front desk. “Hello, I’m Alexander Vance, from headquarters, here for a project review.” “Please arrange a temporary workstation for me, preferably somewhere quiet.” “Also, this inspection is internal. I don’t want Ms. Hayes to know I’m here.” The front desk staff nodded respectfully. I walked into the office area, found a corner spot, and my gaze fell on Leo, not far away. He was holding a cup of water, curiously studying the fire alarm on the wall, seemingly contemplating whether to press the red button.

Ellie wasn’t in that morning. Leo had probably gotten bored of playing games in her office. He ambled out of the General Manager’s office again. He roamed around the office area. One moment, he’d poke at a colleague’s newly finished design sketch. The next, he’d tap another colleague’s keyboard, typing out a string of gibberish. Everyone was furious but dared not speak. They’d hold their breath when he approached, and quickly check their work for damage once he left. He wandered over to the water dispenser. He was probably thirsty again, picking up a disposable cup to get some water. Either he lost his grip, or he did it on purpose. His hand shook. The full cup of water, precisely and unerringly, splashed entirely onto the wall next to the water dispenser. Right there, was the main power switch for the entire office. There was a loud *sizzle*, accompanied by a shower of blinding electrical sparks. The lights in the entire office instantly went out. Everyone’s computer screens, in unison, went black. A few seconds later, the office erupted in thunderous wails and desperate curses. “My code! I’ve been writing code all morning! I haven’t saved it yet!” “My design draft! The client has called eight times, it’s just the final step!” “My report! It’s due at 2 PM! It’s over, everything’s ruined!” David, the head of the technical department, rushed out of his office first, hearing the commotion. He saw Leo, who had caused the mess and was standing there with an innocent look, his face instantly turning ashen. His lips moved, his fists clenched then unclenched, and he ultimately swallowed his words. Leo, however, spoke first, his voice full of dissatisfaction. “What’s going on?” “This switch quality is too poor, isn’t it? It broke just from a little water. Why is everything in our company so shoddy?” His talent for playing the victim and blaming the company for his own blunder was truly breathtaking. Mr. Henderson, the administrative manager, also hurried over. He first looked at the chaotic, smoke-emitting power switch, then at Leo. He immediately put on a deferential smile. “Mr. Maxwell, are you hurt? Did it scare you?” “It’s not your fault, it must be the aging wiring. We’ll handle it right away. I’ll get someone to replace it with a new, waterproof one immediately!” “Please go back to your office to rest. We’ll take care of things here.” Leo pouted, seemingly dissatisfied with this outcome, but said nothing more and turned back into Ellie’s office. Only then did Mr. Henderson wipe the cold sweat from his forehead and begin directing the technical department to fix things. As he passed me, I called out to him. “Mr. Henderson, does this kind of thing happen often?” The manager glanced at me, recognized me as being from headquarters, and a bitter expression crossed his face. He pulled me into the stairwell of the fire escape, lowering his voice. “You’re an inspector, aren’t you? Some things I shouldn’t say, but today’s incident…” He sighed, continuing. “To be honest, he’s the apple of Ms. Hayes’s eye. We dare not do anything.” “Ms. Hayes is out of town for a meeting today, so no one can control him.” “Normally, when Ms. Hayes is around, she can at least keep him cooped up in her office…” His face was filled with helplessness and despair. “Last time, he also accidentally knocked over a cup of coffee.” “That coffee, by sheer bad luck, spilled right onto our core server.” “All the company’s data got corrupted. The tech department worked overtime for a week straight to recover it. All our work for that week was completely wasted!” “And what happened then?” I asked. “In the end, Ms. Hayes said our tech department was negligent in supervision, and the server’s placement had security risks. She docked our entire department’s quarterly bonuses.” “She said it was to teach us a lesson.” My heart sank, bit by bit. This was Ellie Hayes’s management style. Indulging an idiot to run rampant in the company, then making all the hardworking employees pay for his foolishness. Ellie, you’re really something. Just then, the General Manager’s office door opened again. Leo poked his head out and shouted. “So boring! Why isn’t the power back on yet? My phone’s almost dead! Are there any snacks in the breakroom?” No one answered him. The entire office area was engulfed in an extreme, suffocating silence.

As soon as the engineering department restored the power, Dad called. He asked me to get a crucial set of data from the marketing department. He said this file was needed for the group’s board meeting that afternoon, and I absolutely had to handle it personally, without any mishaps. I took a USB drive, copied the data from the marketing director, and went to the print room. I had just finished organizing the file, clipping the papers together, when the print room door was pushed open. Leo sauntered in, holding a can of soda. He immediately spotted the stapler next to my hand, his eyes lighting up. “Hey, can I borrow this? My snack bag came open.” He said, reaching out to grab it as if it were his right. Instinctively, I moved the file and stapler back, avoiding his hand. All the files here involved company secrets. His hand grasped empty air, and his body lurched forward from inertia. His foot caught on a cable. The soda can in his hand flew out. The brown liquid arced in the air, a precise parabola, and splashed, without missing, all over the confidential files I had just printed. The thick stack of A4 papers was instantly soaked through with soda, becoming a sticky mess. I stared at the ruined files, unable to maintain my detached composure any longer. I looked up, my gaze locking onto Leo’s face. He showed no remorse whatsoever. Instead, he seemed annoyed that I hadn’t lent him the stapler. My voice was icy. “Can you take responsibility for the loss of this file?” Leo was probably speaking to a company employee with such a questioning tone for the first time. He froze for a moment. Then, anger flared on his face. “How dare you speak to me like that?” “Do you even know who I am?” He puffed out his chest, looking completely justified. “I’m Ms. Hayes’s husband!” I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing inside, even a little amused. “Oh?” I calmly retorted. “Ms. Hayes’s partner can just destroy company property at will? You can disregard company rules and regulations?” My retort clearly challenged his authority. He became enraged, pointing a finger at my nose. “Of course, I can!” “This company is all Ellie’s, so it’s *mine*! I can do whatever I want!” “Who do you think you are? Some new hire, trying to lecture *me*?” Colleagues who heard the commotion started gathering around. They saw the scene and were too terrified to even breathe. A few administrative staff members subtly tugged at my sleeve, their eyes pleading, urging me to apologize quickly. I didn’t move. I just watched him calmly. Seeing me unfazed, Leo felt he was losing face in front of everyone. He pulled out his phone, a smug, cold smile on his face. “Fine, you want to be tough, huh? You think I can’t handle you?” “I’ll have *your* boss tell you who I am, and who *you* are!” He directly FaceTimed Ellie. The call connected quickly. He held the phone screen towards himself, ready for Ellie to back him up. The moment the video call connected, Leo’s voice immediately turned aggressive. He spoke into the camera, his voice full of righteous indignation: “Ellie, how do you even run this company? A new hire dared to bully me!”

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The class reunion was in full swing when Chloe Miller, our former prom queen, threw a question out to the girls. “After ten years of marriage, what would you do if you found out your husband was cheating?” Most of them declared, “Divorce!” Chloe’s gaze landed on me. I scoffed, a bold statement ready on my lips: “Me? Scarlett Hayes? I’d rather be a widow than a divorcee, any day!” Everyone laughed, but Chloe’s face utterly changed, her eyes holding a strange glint. Seven days earlier, Chloe called me, suggesting a middle school reunion. It had been nearly twenty years since we graduated, and the thought of seeing everyone again gave me a little thrill. I have a bad habit: excitement often leads to insomnia. That first night, I tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. My husband, Victor Sterling, groggily reached back and pulled me close. “Honey, what’s wrong?” “Chloe said she’s organizing a middle school reunion. I’m just a little excited, can’t sleep.” “Silly goose,” he murmured, gently patting my back as if I were our daughter. “Let’s count sheep together.” Lulled by his comforting presence, I slowly drifted off. It’s no exaggeration to say my husband was the most gentle, understanding man in the world. And then, at the class reunion, Chloe, our former prom queen, asked the women a question. “After ten years of marriage, what would you do if you found out your husband was cheating?” Most of them declared, “Divorce!” Chloe looked directly at me. I proclaimed with utter confidence, “Me? Scarlett Hayes? I’d rather be a widow than a divorcee, any day!” Everyone laughed, but Chloe’s face drained of color, her eyes holding a strange, unsettling expression. I brushed it off, thinking it was just a lighthearted moment at the party, and I had absolute faith in Victor. But all evening, Chloe’s eyes kept drifting my way. The moment I met her gaze, she’d quickly look away. Later, when I went to the restroom, I cornered her inside. “Chloe, we’ve known each other for years. If there’s something on your mind, just say it.” Chloe forced a laugh and denied it. I might have been out of the game for a while, but I could spot cheap tricks a mile away. “Spill it!” Chloe’s eyes locked onto mine, and she spoke earnestly. “You have to promise me you’ll stay calm!” A shiver of an ominous premonition ran down my spine, but I took a deep breath and nodded. Chloe pulled out her phone and opened her photo album. It felt like my brain had just detonated. A bomb went off in my head. Those photos were of Victor with different women. If they were just ordinary photos, I wouldn’t have cared; I’m not the jealous type. But Victor’s pose with each woman was far too intimate, even more affectionate than he was with me. And his eyes—they were practically oozing with flirtation. “These… you…?” Seeing my confusion, Chloe gave a bitter laugh and pulled up one particular photo. “Look.” It was a picture of Chloe and Victor together. I was about to explode. That homewrecker had the nerve to be so brazen? “He told me he was single!” Chloe quickly interjected. “That bastard completely conned me!” “Why would I believe you?” Chloe then showed me her SnapChat conversations with Victor. Flirty. Suggestive. And there was money involved. “He told me he was single, took over a hundred thousand dollars from me! I was totally in the dark, fantasizing about marrying him and starting a family, until one day Valerie sent me a picture of his family. That’s when I realized I’d been duped.” “Who’s Valerie?” My head was spinning. “Another woman that scumbag fooled.” Rage, confusion. One Chloe wasn’t enough, now there was a Valerie too? I made an excuse and left the reunion early. I had to go home and confront Victor. What was going on? What had he been doing behind my back? How many women was he entangled with?! Chloe chased after me. “Scarlett, don’t do anything rash!” Rash? If she weren’t an old classmate I hadn’t seen in years, I swear, I wanted to slap her silly! “Scarlett!” Chloe grabbed my arm, and I violently yanked it away. “Get your hands off me, don’t contaminate me!” Chloe’s eyes immediately welled up. Oh, so now she’s playing the innocent victim? Give me a break! I hopped into a taxi and sped away. As I wrestled with how to confront Victor, how to unleash the anger boiling within me, my phone rang. It was Victor. That scumbag had the audacity to call me? I answered, about to unleash a tirade, but then my daughter’s soft voice came through. “Mommy, what time are you coming home? I miss you.” My nose stung, and tears threatened to fall. After ten years of marriage, I’d finally managed to get pregnant and have our daughter. My five-year-old Lily was the apple of my eye. If Victor and I blew up, what would happen to Lily? If Victor was prepared, I might not even get custody of her. I remembered my earlier flippant remark: “I’d rather be widowed than divorced!” I swallowed hard, forcing the rising tears back down. I wouldn’t let Victor walk away unscathed. For this devil of a bastard, only hell awaited him! Back home, Victor was as solicitous as ever, fetching my slippers and running a bath. Normally, I’d have been touched and given him a quick kiss. But now, looking at him, I felt a wave of nausea. Turns out, this handsome man was just a pretty face with rotten insides. “Honey, did you drink too much?” Seeing my pale face, Victor didn’t seem suspicious. It was true; my straightforward nature was an open book to him. Given his two-faced behavior—chasing women outside while being a devoted husband at home—I’d been completely outmaneuvered. As a woman, facing her husband’s infidelity, it was impossible not to feel panicked, confused, and furious. But what could I do now? The only thing I could do was force myself to calm down! I had already lost so much; I couldn’t afford to lose everything! Playing along with his comment, I pretended to be drunk.

I stumbled into the bathroom, forced a few retches, and then let the tears I’d been holding back finally stream out. “I need a shower.” I pushed Victor out of the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cried my heart out. I carried Lily back to her room, and she quickly fell into a deep sleep. Victor quietly opened the door, carefully tucked us in, and then softly left. Everything had happened so suddenly that for a moment, I truly believed Victor had cheated. But as I calmed down, and Victor was so gentle and attentive, I started to question the authenticity of those photos. Chloe and I hadn’t seen each other in over ten years. If she knew Victor was my husband, why would she so publicly organize this reunion? And then, so openly tell me she was sleeping with my husband? I suspected she had another agenda! Was her goal to push me out so she could take my place? It was highly probable! Chloe called again, saying she wanted to talk. I replied, “I don’t want to talk. If you think this will stir up trouble in my marriage, I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person!” There was a long silence on the other end, then the call disconnected. I sneered. Did she think being pretty meant she could do whatever she wanted? Beauty isn’t brains! Ridiculous. To my surprise, Chloe wasn’t giving up. She actually came to my office to find me. “Scarlett!” Chloe grabbed me without a word and pulled me towards her car. “What do you want?” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Is it fun to break up someone else’s family?” Chloe didn’t say much. She just drove me straight to an unfamiliar place. It was a place of flashing lights and throbbing music. Since getting married, I’d never been to such a place, especially after having Lily. My life revolved around work, home, and later, taking my daughter to daycare. I believed a married woman should be a dedicated wife and mother. Chloe seemed to be a regular here. She expertly led me to a secluded corner. “There’s a show about to start here. I hope you’ll watch it calmly.” It certainly was a show. I watched with my own eyes as Victor walked in, intimately intertwined with a woman. Their every gesture reeked of flirtation. “That’s Valerie,” Chloe whispered, her eyes fixed on me. “According to our investigation, besides you, his wife, he has two other girlfriends: me and Valerie.” Watching Victor’s brazen behavior, then remembering his gentle attentiveness at home… My mind was a complete mess. Should I believe Chloe, or should I believe Victor was innocent? The three women eventually sat down together. There was me, Scarlett Hayes, Victor’s wife and a business manager at a private company. Chloe, the owner of a chain of beauty salons, who’d been defrauded not just emotionally and physically, but financially too. And Valerie, a rich heiress with inheritance rights to two private hospitals, who had suffered the same fate as Chloe. The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. Chloe asked me again what I planned to do. I was Victor’s legal wife. If I was willing to forgive him, they would withdraw and try to salvage my marriage. “We’re old classmates, Scarlett!” Chloe said earnestly. “I want you to be happy, otherwise I wouldn’t have told you so directly.” A pang of sadness. My marriage needed the help of the other women to survive. “We can step aside,” Valerie offered. “But can you guarantee that scumbag will finally settle down? Be a faithful husband?” Who could guarantee that? No one! Even if I tried to salvage this marriage, could I truly go back to enjoying Victor’s care and affection as before? Could I ever again share a bed, without reservation, with a man whose mind and body felt so sullied? I couldn’t! But if I chose divorce, what would I get? The company I worked for—its legal entity and owner were listed under Victor’s Aunt Mildred. But the real owner, the one unlisted, was Victor. All these years, I’d worked my tail off, bringing in business, thinking it was *our* family business. Now I realized Victor had been meticulously planning against me all along. The house was in both our names. But even if I got half the property, what then? A divorce would mean unemployment for me. Ten years of hard work, all for nothing. Homeless, because Victor had the capital to buy out my half of the property rights. The worst outcome: I’d lose my daughter, whom I’d fought so hard to have. In short, divorce would leave me with absolutely nothing! 2 I remained silent. At this moment, I felt like the biggest loser. Chloe and Valerie were smart women; they understood my predicament perfectly. Chloe gently squeezed my hand. “Scarlett, don’t worry. We’ll teach that bastard a lesson, together!” My demands weren’t greedy; I just wanted to reclaim what was mine. Like the profits I’d earned for the company over the years. Valerie laughed, calling me a pushover. “If it were me, I’d take back ten times as much!” I offered a faint smile. This was the difference between being married and being single. Their relationships with Victor could be resolved with a simple breakup. But I had to consider my daughter. So, I didn’t want to burn all my bridges and potentially jeopardize my chances of securing full custody of my daughter. They say three women make a drama, and our show was just getting started. The company’s legal owner and boss was Victor’s Aunt Mildred. This meant that if Victor and I divorced, the company would have absolutely nothing to do with me. Yet, over the past decade, the profits I’d generated for the company were in the tens of millions, if not hundreds. Walking away with nothing wasn’t my style. As the company’s business manager, and the de facto boss’s wife, I knew all the business operations and finances inside and out. Of course, the most crucial thing was not to let Victor suspect anything. So, I had Chloe anonymously report the company for tax evasion. Sure enough, the IRS soon arrived to investigate. While this caused a lot of trouble for the company, it was the only way I could think of to get Aunt Mildred to step aside. Victor’s Aunt Mildred was a seemingly shrewd middle-aged woman. She had a stable nursing job of her own. And she received monthly consulting fees, plus year-end profit shares from the company, stuffing her pockets faster than anyone. But when trouble struck, she was also faster to flee than anyone. Tax evasion could be a big deal or a small one. If you had a good attitude and voluntarily paid back taxes and fines, it might blow over. But for someone like Aunt Mildred, getting money out of her pocket was like pulling teeth. The truth was, these taxes didn’t even have to come directly from her. But Aunt Mildred received profit shares based on the company’s earnings. Once the taxes and fines were paid, she’d indirectly lose a significant portion of her bonus. Would she ever agree to that? Of course, I knew she wouldn’t. Otherwise, our anonymous tip would have been for nothing. Now, with the IRS investigators coming in daily, she, as the boss and legal owner, naturally had to be present. But she played dumb, claiming to know nothing. So, she tried to push me forward, saying I was the real boss and she was just a figurehead. How could she say such a thing? The IRS agents’ faces immediately darkened. They asked me what was going on. “I—I’m just an employee!” I explained frantically. Aunt Mildred wouldn’t have it. She pointed at me and yelled, “This company was actually opened by her husband! He didn’t want to use his own name, so he used mine. He promised me back then that if anything went wrong, he wouldn’t drag me into it! Now he wants to push it all on me? Dream on!” The investigators told me to call Victor immediately. I cried as I called Victor, saying the company was in trouble and he needed to come quickly. As soon as Victor walked through the door, Aunt Mildred grabbed his clothes and started wailing. “Oh, Victor, Victor! I wondered why you didn’t register the company under your own name, or your wife’s name! Turns out you two were scheming to trick your poor aunt!” “You gave me such a measly consulting fee every month, and then just shut me up with a year-end bonus! You two are really something, evading taxes, living the high life, feasting and celebrating, what a ‘great’ nephew you are!” She wailed and then collapsed onto the floor, gasping dramatically. Victor’s face was as black as thunder. I stood to the side, looking utterly bewildered, but if I wasn’t trying so hard, I might have burst out laughing. Victor finally managed to coax Aunt Mildred away, only to face a barrage of questions from the IRS agents. His handsome face was twisted into a grotesque mask. After seeing the investigators off, Victor sat in the office, staring blankly ahead, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “If I find out who reported this company, I’ll make sure she dies a miserable death!” Who reported it wasn’t important; what mattered was that I couldn’t let Aunt Mildred stay in the company any longer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298899”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

The engagement ring Liam bought for me, three days later, was on the ring finger of Brittany, his ‘dream girl,’ as he knelt before her at her birthday party. Only, the ring was a little loose. Brittany bent her finger, and with a soft “clink,” it dropped to the floor. In the video, Liam awkwardly tried to cover it up, quickly picking it up. He then spouted nauseating sweet nothings in front of everyone: “Brittany, I’m still waiting for you. Will you come back to me?” He cried, shedding those pathetic, fake tears that were supposed to be heartfelt but just looked ridiculous. My awful friends, always eager for drama, sent me several more videos, along with a message: “LOL, your ‘dream guy’ of eight years is acting like such a simp now.” The words were steeped in sarcasm and mockery, as if tearing open my already tattered heart and harshly pouring salt into the wound. He was right. The boy I loved with all my being was someone else’s simp. I’d loved him for how many years? He’d been simping for her for just as long. That ring was my last hope for our relationship. Now, it feels like all my efforts just paved the way for someone else. With a soft sigh, my tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed. I coolly and quickly messaged my friend back: “We’re not close.”

Liam was basically my childhood friend. He was reserved, steady, and exactly what I thought I wanted in a boyfriend. Chasing him for eight years had been a relentless struggle. Until three nights ago. He came home smelling of alcohol, and uncharacteristically, he hugged me tightly, whispering in my ear, “Let’s get engaged. We’ll pick out a ring tomorrow.” To say I wasn’t thrilled would be a lie. My tears fell, defiant and unstoppable. Liam was unusually affectionate that night. His usual rough passion was replaced by a tender intimacy. Until Liam’s ragged breaths stopped at my neck, his warm exhalations constant, his lips continuously murmuring those two words. “Brittany… Brittany…” My heart instantly jolted. My previously yielding body stiffened, my eyes wide. He was… he was mistaking me for Brittany. During our most intimate moments, the man I loved called out another woman’s name. What could be more insulting? His love was fake, his affection was fake. In his eyes, I was ultimately nothing compared to a sliver of Brittany’s affection. I was just a placeholder for his frustration. That night, I spent it in tears, a cold, biting emptiness within me. The next day, Liam looked perfectly fine, ignoring my emotions. He went about his usual routine, showering and getting dressed. Before leaving, he leaned close to me, a big smile on his face: “Chloe, come find me after work. We’ll go pick out the ring together.” With that, he planted a loving kiss on my forehead. Looking at Liam, he was still the man I deeply adored. Time seemed to be exceptionally kind to him, refusing to leave even the slightest mark. Once we were engaged, Liam would finally settle down, right? It meant he was trying to let go of his ‘dream girl,’ right? I desperately tried to reassure myself, pulling myself together, attempting to conjure a faint smile on my pale face. But, reality always strikes without warning. Watching the video of the lovestruck Liam, and the ring on Brittany’s ring finger, it all seemed so ridiculous to me. That ring was custom-made, registered under Liam’s ID. A man could only customize one in his lifetime. I still remember how Liam half-bent over the counter, meticulously choosing it, constantly adjusting it with the salesperson. He looked so genuinely devoted. At one point, because of the price, I even tried to haggle with the salesperson. But Liam was surprisingly quick to say, “No need, just wrap it up.” Now, I realize why he was so quick. It wasn’t meant for me at all. I packed his bags, reminiscing about everything with Liam. Except, it was *his* bags I was packing. The apartment was mine. He’d been freeloading off me for years, never paying a cent for internet, electricity, or heating. He was taking advantage of me. It was time for him to go! I simply gathered Liam’s belongings into a cardboard box and tossed it by the door. Including the Brown Bear plushie he’d bought me for 22 bucks at a street stall five years ago on my birthday. People are so strange. When you’re deeply in love, even discarded items can feel like treasures. Once you’re disgusted, even cherished things become an eyesore. Liam didn’t send me a single message. Instead, that terrible friend of mine sent dozens, probably all mocking me. I ignored them as usual. Then, I sent Liam a message: “Engagement canceled. We’re done!” SnapChat blocked, deleted; phone blocked, deleted. I even changed my SnapChat privacy settings so no one could add me. If I was going to be heartless, I’d go all the way. It was Wednesday, a regular workday. As a seasoned corporate drone, the high pressure and fast pace of work were suffocating, leaving no free time for moping. The office was unusually lively and busy today. My colleague and best friend, Maya, saw me, smoothly wheeled her chair over, and handed me a beautifully wrapped gift box. “These are wedding favors from someone in the Operations department. Everyone gets one.” She slyly gestured towards her phone, giving me a ‘you know what this means’ look that said I needed to see something ASAP. Maya and I were college classmates, and we started working at the same company, in the Marketing department, right after graduation. We were lifelong besties, the kind you share everything with. Naturally, she knew all about the emotional mess between me, Liam, and Brittany. I opened my phone. Maya had sent me a few photos. Zooming in, I saw Brittany with an unfamiliar man. They were getting into a Porsche together, acting very affectionate. The man looked much older, with a receding hairline and a slightly greasy look. Maya gossiped that he was a total nouveau riche type, a flashy millionaire who’d recently inherited a massive fortune, complete with multiple properties. She’d accidentally snapped the photos leaving work last night. The implication was clear: Brittany was a total gold-digger, pretending to be innocent and stringing Liam along, but in reality, she was fickle and greedy, always chasing money. “Liam’s such a damn idiot, can’t tell a good person from a bad one,” Maya muttered, defending me. I smiled, turned off my phone, and handed Maya the work materials I’d prepared last night. “Don’t think about it. Let’s just get to work.” In the past, I might have been ecstatic. Liam had just declared his undying love the night before, and the next day, his beloved found a sugar daddy. It would have been hilariously absurd. Now… Forget it. Whether they lived or died, what did it matter to me? The company recently landed a huge case from our biggest client, and almost everyone in the Marketing department was working overtime, snatching a few minutes of rest during lunch. Coincidentally, during a few minutes in the restroom, I ran into Brittany. In college, Brittany was a year below me in the same major. Liam first met her at a departmental exchange seminar when he came to find me. Liam told me he’d never liked anyone so much before, begging me in a desperately pleading tone to help him, or he’d regret it forever. At the time, believing in selfless love, I gave Liam Brittany’s contact information. A few days later, I saw them announce their relationship on social media.

That was fast! Now, Brittany and I worked at the same company. She’d joined two years after me. I was on the fifth floor in Marketing, she was on the second floor in Sales. To come all the way up to my floor just to find me in the restroom… her motive was clear. Brittany saw me, and her previously calm expression instantly turned contemptuous, her features becoming arrogant. The moment I stepped into the restroom, she forcefully shoved me back out. “I was here first! Get out!” she sneered, full of mockery and arrogance. I couldn’t be bothered to argue; after all, some people just aren’t worth my time. But then she brought up the ring. “Liam gave me a ring at my birthday party yesterday,” she said, as if she’d planned it, pulling it out of her pocket, a twisted look on her face. “Too bad it’s too loose, I can’t wear it. Maybe I’ll give it to you…” “Even though the quality is pretty bad, it’s just right for you…” Brittany was showing off to me. It wasn’t the first time over the years. I remained calm, about to retort, when I heard a sarcastic voice from the doorway: “Did someone eat sh*t in this bathroom today? It stinks!” It was Maya. She said this while rushing over to Brittany, scrunching her nose and sniffing hard, then looking at me in mock surprise: “Chloe, that’s the smell! So manipulative and disgusting!” Brittany looked furious enough to hit someone. I grabbed her wrist, my eyes sharp. “Thinking of laying a hand on me? Do you even have the right? If you don’t know how to act like a decent human, then your senior will teach you a lesson.” Then I leaned close to her ear and sweetly whispered, “Oh, and that ring? It’s trash. Manipulative b*tches and trash are a perfect match.” Her wrist was red from my grip, but I had no intention of letting go. Being kind to your enemies is being cruel to yourself. Brittany, always accustomed to arrogance, never expected me to treat her this way. She desperately tried to break free, cursing me as a thug and a malicious b*tch. I just thought, being the good girl is exhausting. Sometimes, it’s actually kinda fun to be a little ruthless. Maya huffed twice, then hooked her arm through mine and marched out, head held high. “I’ve been sick of her for ages! That felt amazing, so damn satisfying!” “Two-timing Liam, and also getting played by some old man. She really has no standards, does she?” I gave a helpless laugh, then quipped, “I have no standards either. But I just picked up trash!” Brittany must have been upset and called Liam to complain. As soon as work ended, I saw Liam blocking me at the company entrance, his face grim. “Chloe, what’s the meaning of this?” Liam’s expression was terrible, his strong fingers gripping my arm tightly, causing me a pang of pain. I scoffed, finding it almost laughable how ‘devoted’ Liam was, ready to jump through hoops for Brittany. And how ridiculous I was for ever loving someone like that. Eight years. A full eight years. “I have nothing to say to you. We’re not close.” My voice was cold, completely devoid of the initial joy and excitement I used to feel seeing him. That ring was the absolute last straw for me. Liam’s brows were tightly furrowed, his eyes tired. He even had a faint stubble, something unheard of for the usually fastidious Liam. He must have been really struggling. His grip was still tight, and I grew increasingly annoyed. It felt like any last shred of dignity between us was gone. “Liam, we’re adults. You have the right to pursue your happiness, and so do I!” “I admit, you gave me hope. But what’s more painful than the despair after hope? If you don’t love me, why force it?” I spoke with biting resentment, as if indicting him for eight years of unspoken pain and frustration. Eight years of chasing him. I had considered Liam the light of my life. Even after Brittany came into the picture, I tried to maintain a facade of dignity and respect. On Liam’s birthday, I happily brought a homemade cake to his dorm building, only to see him and Brittany in a passionate, lingering kiss. He was smiling brightly, leaning over her, his head gently touching her forehead, their arms wrapped around each other, totally inseparable. Brittany saw me, and with a sickeningly sweet smile, she naturally took the cake from my hands. “Wow, Liam always said Chloe makes the best cakes! I’m so lucky today. Unlike me, I’m so clumsy, I can’t make anything!” I’ve forgotten everything else. I only remember Liam’s doting gaze on Brittany, and how he gently patted her head. He didn’t thank me, instead he looked at Brittany and said, “If you like it, I’ll have Chloe make it for you every day.” The jealousy was real, and so was the humiliation. Liam basically treated me like his personal assistant, always available at his beck and call. I never wanted to live like that again. Liam never in a million years expected me to say such things.

His face was pale, his usually bright eyes dimmed, his gaze fixed on me, devoid of life. His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. The standoff lasted a few minutes, until Brittany emerged from the company building. “Liam, you came to pick me up!” Brittany’s voice was sweet and shrill, as if she wanted everyone around to hear. Was she staking her claim? It was laughable. Brittany saw me, and her face instantly clouded over. She slumped against Liam’s shoulder, dramatically raising a hand to pretend to wipe away tears. “Liam, Chloe was so mean today. She said the ring you gave me wasn’t pretty, that it was trash… I’m so upset. That was your thoughtful gift…” In that moment, I realized how utterly clueless Brittany was. She knew it was a gift from Liam, but she had no idea it was originally meant to be *my* engagement ring. At the mention of the ring, Liam suddenly looked up, as if realizing something. His previously sharp, fixed gaze softened. “Chloe-belle…” Liam’s lips trembled. “I… I…” He used to only call me ‘Chloe-belle’ when things were passionate between us. I used to revel in it for days. Now, it just sounded jarring. If it weren’t for those videos last night, I’d probably still be lost in the illusion of a beautiful marriage. A thought crossed my mind: “Liam… you really thought I was a complete fool.” Brittany tried to continue her provocation, but seeing Liam unresponsive, she instantly grew anxious, tugging at his arm and sleeve, desperately clinging to him for comfort. I turned to leave, just as a black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen smoothly pulled up to the curb. At the same time, the passenger window slowly rolled down, and a two-liter bottle of green tea was forcefully tossed from the window. It had clearly been thrown with intent, just barely missing Brittany. What a shame. Amidst Brittany’s cursing shriek and Liam’s stunned silence, Maya, wearing dark sunglasses, barked commandingly from the driver’s seat: “Get in!” After only a brief hesitation, I cheerfully responded, “Coming!” and eagerly hopped into the car. I buckled my seatbelt, and with a roaring throttle, we sped off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw Brittany stomping her feet in a fit of rage. And Liam… Was he looking at me? Sitting in the passenger seat, as a corporate drone for years, a high-end car like a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen was a dream I could only admire from afar. But now, with the dream temporarily realized, I found myself unable to truly feel happy. Was Liam sad or regretful just now? Pfft, the thought itself made me realize I was wrong. Eight years. If Liam had been genuinely kind to me for even a moment, things wouldn’t have ended up like this. He had been so heartless towards me, why should I feel pity for him based on a single glance? I absolutely couldn’t go soft this time. Shifting my thoughts, Maya’s car was playing our favorite rock song, “Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies” by Beyond. As the music crescendoed, while stopped at a red light, Maya couldn’t help but get all pumped up, yelling, “Manipulative women and pathetic men belong together! Brittany’s manipulative act makes me sick! Ugh!” She vowed that if Brittany ever bothered me again, she’d make her pay, and begging on her knees wouldn’t be enough. Watching Maya’s excitement, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. My earlier annoyance dissipated considerably. “Hey, tell me the truth, did you rent this car? Huh?” I leaned over, a teasing, half-flattering grin on my face. “Did you know I was upset, so you deliberately rented it to make a scene for me?” Brittany loved to travel. Liam once rented a regular Mercedes for a road trip. That single week cost almost ten thousand dollars. Let alone a high-end Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen like this. I tried to lean in for a big smooch on Maya’s cheek. How could I not love a sister like this? However, “Cough, cough…” Maya saw my impulsiveness and quickly dodged in the opposite direction, pointing behind me… Was someone in the back? I looked at her, then at the back, utterly confused, and instantly froze. “Hi, Chloe!” A clear voice, tinged with youthful hormones, emerged. I followed the sound with my gaze, from bottom to top. The owner of the voice wore loose sweatpants and a light grey hoodie. In contrast to his casual attire, his features were sharply defined, a golden ratio, with a straight nose and thin lips. Our eyes met, sparkling like stars in a flowing galaxy. “H-hi.” I awkwardly replied, instantly turning to sit rigidly in the passenger seat, clutching my seatbelt, swallowing a noticeably loud gulp. From the moment I got in the car until now, I hadn’t sensed the slightest presence of a third person! Maya looked at me, and the guy in the back subtly turned his head, also looking at me. Me: “…” A subtle tension filled the air, my heart pounding erratically. While the car was stopped, I desperately tried to signal with my eyes, contorting my features as if to say, “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy? You better explain yourself, right now!” Maya ignored me and kept driving.

Until we smoothly pulled over to the side of the road ahead, she coolly took off her sunglasses and told me the truth. “Chloe, I’m rich! This is the boyfriend I found for you, Finn. Are you satisfied?” I instantly zoned out. The amount of information was too much; my brain couldn’t keep up. I hadn’t even fully recovered from the Liam situation, and now I had a boyfriend? More importantly, I didn’t even know this guy! Rich?! So this Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen!!! Then, as Maya gave her “tearful” explanation, it clicked. Maya’s family were local residents, and they’d recently inherited a small fortune when their old neighborhood was bought out. As an only child, she impulsively bought a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagen as a reward for all her years as a corporate drone. And I, Chloe Davies, as the rich girl’s best friend, couldn’t possibly mope around over some scumbag. So she specifically found me a handsome guy… to make up for it… You know, *that* kind of making up for it. The photos Maya sent me this morning of Brittany and that old man were from last night. On her way home, she just happened to pass by, and just happened to see them. In a moment of excitement, she quickly took the photos. Since they were all from the same neighborhood, they knew each other well enough. A quick inquiry would reveal everything. “Chloe, maybe…” Maya’s eyebrows subtly arched, a knowing, unrestrained smile playing on her lips. I knew Maya wanted to teach those two a lesson, to get revenge for me. I didn’t refuse, but I didn’t condone it either. Maya was straightforward and fiercely loyal. If she acted impulsively and caused any other trouble that implicated her, it simply wouldn’t be worth it. Bad people eventually get what’s coming to them. The cause of one life is the effect of the next. Brittany was two-timing; she was digging her own grave. If she didn’t know how to act, someone else would teach her. Why should I dirty my hands? As for Liam, he was just a familiar stranger now. There was nothing left to cling to. I asked Maya to drop me off at the nearest subway station. I didn’t want to go home so quickly; I wanted to walk alone and clear my head. As for my “little boyfriend” Finn, haha, as a regular corporate drone, I can’t handle that kind of attention. I gave Maya a mischievous look. My meaning was definitely what she’d like to hear. With that, I got out of the car, waved goodbye to Finn in the backseat, and walked away. My eight-year relationship with Liam had been a roundabout journey, and we ultimately ended up going our separate ways. It had also drained me of all my initial enthusiasm and innocence for love. I no longer dared to give my whole heart. The Chloe I once was is gone. And the Chloe of the future certainly won’t be that way again. Because I’m too scared to anymore. Today’s weather seemed to reflect my mood, fickle and unpredictable. Before I even got home, a gentle rain began to fall. There was a large chain grocery store near my apartment. In the past, after work, Liam and I would always go grocery shopping together. Every time he walked beside me, and I gently held his arm, it felt like a preview of our future life. Wherever he was, that was my home. I pushed a small shopping cart through the aisles, picking out items from the shelves. Although it felt like something was missing, this feeling made me feel especially secure. In the fruit section, the refrigerated display cases held a variety of fruits, along with pre-packaged portions of blue cheese. It was almost fate. Liam’s least favorite food was blue cheese, while I was a fervent fan. Because I liked him, I even changed my true preference, later making up a lame excuse: “I’m allergic to blue cheese!” How many people claim allergies, when deep down, it’s just a compromise for the person they love. The rain stopped. I carried a small bag of groceries home. It wasn’t much, but it felt like I was filling the void left by eight years of my emotional life. Back at home, Liam’s things were still by the door. He hadn’t been back. As I took out my keys to open the door, urgent footsteps sounded behind me. The next second, a familiar scent and warmth enveloped me. “Chloe-belle, I was wrong. Please forgive me, okay?” Liam’s voice was urgent and pleading, ending with a choked sob. He was begging me, begging me not to leave him. “Why did you delete me? Do you know how worried I was? I was going crazy!” His strong, broad hands gripped my shoulders, pressing down hard, draining most of my strength. I struggled fiercely, desperate to break free from his embrace. “Liam, let go! You’re hurting me! You’re a jerk!” The grocery bag slipped from my hands, falling heavily to the floor. Liam, like a madman, aggressively attacked me with his kisses. If before, his kisses had been filled with romance and deep affection, now, every touch only made me feel utterly disgusted. “Liam, you’re crazy, get off me! Get—” I roared through tears, my eyes bloodshot, my collar pulled askew, my neck red and swollen. “Let go!” A strange yet familiar voice cut through the air, strong and resolute. Before I could react, a strong, firm hand roughly yanked Liam off me. The next second, with a thud, Liam crashed into the wall, then fell heavily to the ground. A tall figure inexplicably appeared before me. Under the dim, flickering hallway light, I strained to make out his face. It was Finn! He hadn’t left after all.

In my confusion, he took off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around me, gesturing for me to go inside, indicating he would handle this. In the alternating light and shadow, I subconsciously looked up. His brows were furrowed, his expression stern, but his eyes were utterly clear. He stood before me, like a sturdy oak against a storm, telling me firmly, “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you!” Suddenly, I felt a powerful force pushing through me, like a parched soul finally getting a drink of water. This was a feeling I had never experienced in my eight years with Liam. I composed myself, trying to calm my racing thoughts. It was time for Liam and me to finally put an end to this. “Just go. I don’t want to see you anymore.” Finn, sensing the mood, picked up the grocery bag from the floor and went inside, not lingering to hear the rest. “Liam, I don’t love you anymore. Yesterday, when I saw you put that ring on Brittany’s finger, in that moment, my heart completely died.” “You stole my last bit of hope and dreams for love, leaving me too afraid to ever love again.” Liam slowly picked himself up from the ground, blood even trickling from the corner of his mouth. He leaned weakly against the wall, pale and drained, silently watching me. “We’re adults. We need to take responsibility for our actions. Don’t come looking for me again. We’re… done.” In that moment, my heart felt strangely calm, like a still spring pond, without a ripple. No tears in my eyes, no pain in my heart. Perhaps this was what it felt like to no longer love. Liam, on the other hand, stumbled closer, grabbing my hands tightly, begging bitterly: “Chloe-belle, I messed up. Yesterday, I was drunk, it was an impulse. I… I… I like you.” “Listen to me, I… I truly don’t like Brittany anymore. You’re the one I like, Chloe-belle!” “If I didn’t like you, why would I have gotten engaged to you, why would I marry you, Chloe-belle…” Liam choked out his explanation, his brows tightly furrowed, tears tracing clear paths down his face. I had waited eight years for Liam to say he liked me. In the past, I would have excitedly thrown myself into his arms, clinging to him, wanting to tell the whole world that I, Chloe Davies, was the happiest girl alive. But all of this came too late, far too late. Even if a wounded heart heals, it’s still covered in scars. Peel back that fragile outer shell, and all you see are wounds. “Liam, just go! Like this Brown Bear, we can never go back.” With that, I swiftly pulled my hands free, without hesitation, and turned to go home. The last flicker of affection I had for Liam vanished with the heavy “thud” of the door closing. Liam’s knocking on the door continued, irritating me. I glanced towards the kitchen. Finn was wearing an apron, and I could hear the faucet running as he washed something. “Why are you still here?” I asked coldly. He seemed to pause, his practiced movements stopping. He pulled out a tissue and slowly wiped his hands. “I’ll leave after I make you something to eat.” Finn’s voice was clear, with a faint, mesmerizing hint of a soft murmur. I hung his jacket on the hanger by the door, then went to my bedroom to change clothes. While I was there, I called Maya. On the other end of the line, I heard a noisy crowd and blaring music. She was probably at a bar. Maya didn’t say anything; she must not have seen my call and answered by mistake. I hung up, then sat on the sofa, hunched over, pressing the heel of my hand hard into my forehead, my breathing heavy. Liam was still knocking, but the sound was softer, the frequency slower. After a while, the knocking stopped. I heard the sound of a cardboard box being moved outside the door. He must have left. Finn came from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of noodle soup. It had greens, ham, and a perfectly fried soft-boiled egg. “Eat up. I hope it’s to your taste.” He thoughtfully touched the side of the bowl to check if it was too hot, then placed the forks to my left. I’m left-handed, and he actually knew that. Maya must have told him. After all the commotion today, I was indeed a little hungry. I politely thanked him, picked up my forks, and started eating small bites, chatting with him as I did. Finn was a student in the sports department at my alma mater, a year younger than me. After graduation, he tried his hand at entrepreneurship and now worked as a full-time coach at a Taekwondo club near the company. So, he was a junior. I remembered Maya once had a crazy obsession with Taekwondo, joining a class on a whim and even dragging me along a few times. “Chloe, once I get my Taekwondo black belt, I’d like to see anyone try to bully you. I’ll just kick them away!” she’d say, hitting the air with muffled thuds. “Have we met before?” I put down my forks, forcing a smile, looking directly at him.

Finn radiated youthful energy. His casual, athletic attire perfectly highlighted his sculpted physique. Compared to the endless procession of identical suits I saw every day, he was a breath of fresh air. His eyelashes fluttered, and his clear eyes suddenly lit up. He nodded firmly. “Yup.” My thoughts drifted back four years, to my birthday. Coincidentally, I had won first prize in an internet innovation competition. Liam called me, saying he’d celebrate my birthday with me. At that time, Liam and Brittany were having problems, and Brittany had unilaterally broken up with him. Seeing my chance, I secretly vowed to win Liam over, to make him realize how much I liked and loved him. I wore clothes in Liam’s favorite style, put on exquisite makeup, and booked a window seat at his favorite restaurant. I even secretly worked three months of part-time jobs to buy a pair of couple’s rings, engraved with Liam’s and my initials. “If I just took the initiative, would Liam agree?” I clutched the ring in my hand, my heart pounding like a drum, a mix of excitement and anxiety that left me restless. But the weather had other plans. A summer downpour came exceptionally hard. I waited for Liam from 6 PM until 10 PM. Finn was the one I met then. He worked part-time at this restaurant. Near closing time, he changed out of his uniform and walked over in a black T-shirt. He looked a bit short and slender back then. Finn patiently refilled my tea, politely asking, “Miss, your friend still hasn’t arrived? Would you like me to stay with you?” I looked at the antique clock hanging on the restaurant wall. It was nearly eleven. I shook my head, thanked him, stood up, and left. I called Liam, but his phone went from unanswered to switched off. He didn’t reply to any messages, as if he’d vanished. The next day, Liam finally got in touch, belatedly explaining, “Brittany twisted her ankle and needs someone to take care of her.” He also told me, “She’s terrified of thunder; she can’t be without me.” I pretended to be nonchalant, blowing my nose hard with a tissue, trying to hold back tears. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” … Finn thoughtfully pulled some tissues from the box and handed them to me, his voice gentle. “Chloe, don’t be sad. You have me.” His words were both intimate and sincere, making me look up at Finn, momentarily flustered. The Finn before me now was no longer the slender, slightly frail young man I first met. He was tall and handsome, every gesture exuding elegance and politeness. Any teenage girl who saw him would cast admiring glances. Time seemed to stand still for several seconds. “Finn, thank you for tonight. It’s late, you should head home now.” I issued the dismissal, distractedly getting up to retrieve his jacket from the hanger by the door. As an adult, I clearly understood Finn’s intentions. A chance encounter years ago, and now this meeting? How could it be a coincidence? Maya was just playing matchmaker. Currently, I was physically and emotionally exhausted, with no extra energy for another relationship. Liam was like this, and Finn was no different. Finn’s composed features tightened, his bright eyes looking a little hurt. He stood up, taking his jacket from my hands, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “Are you going to be okay alone? Maybe I could…” “No, I’ll be fine. If he comes back, I’ll call the police!” I cut him off before he could finish. Finn left, but not before adding me on SnapChat. Ten minutes later, he sent me a message: “Chloe, contact me anytime if you need anything. I’ll be there.” I didn’t pay much attention, nor did I reply. The warmth between people can only withstand so much hot-and-cold indifference from one side. If I was harsh now, Finn would probably give up quickly, right? The next day at work, as I was putting together a presentation, Maya poked her head out like a nosy dog, whispering conspiratorially, “Chloe, about last night…” I playfully swatted her head with my file. “Can your mind just be normal for once? You’re so dirty!” I got up to print my documents. Maya pouted, then trotted after me, still pestering. “Girl, Finn is such a great guy, are you really not interested?” She threw up her hands, an incredulous and bewildered expression on her face. I sighed, flashing my signature eight-tooth smile. “Girl, if you think he’s so great, you go for it. If you two get married, I’ll definitely give you a huge cash gift!” You can’t hit a smiling face. Maya huffed in annoyance, scoffed, and turned back to her desk.

But before I could even try to smooth things over, the elevator chimed, and the sharp, rapid click-clack of high heels on the floor echoed through the office. A furious, unfamiliar middle-aged woman in a red dress stormed in, cursing. “I’m going to teach you a lesson, you little vixen! You’ve gone too far, daring to mess with my daughter!” Another woman’s shriek and struggle followed: “Let go of me! Let go! I’ll call security!” The two women were pulling and tugging, full of fury, crashing into the adjacent Operations department. The company printer was just around the corner from the elevators. My movements, as I organized my documents, instantly stopped. That woman… she looked so much like Brittany! No, not like. It *was* her! Many corporate drones, witnessing the scene, couldn’t possibly focus on work. Chairs slid back, and groups of three to five surged towards the Operations department. Maya, naturally, was no exception, dragging me along to join the commotion. The middle-aged woman’s face was livid. Her hand never released Brittany’s hair, and her screams grew louder. “Everyone, you have to hear me out!” “Yes, this young woman, of all things, decided to become a home-wrecker and destroy someone else’s family!” “My daughter, Ashley, who works in the Operations department, just got married recently. My daughter and I even packed the wedding favors for everyone ourselves!” “Who would’ve thought this snake would seduce my son-in-law and even try to convince my daughter to divorce him and leave with nothing!” “Is there no shame in the world for a woman like you, huh?!” The middle-aged woman was screaming violently. Being a full size larger than Brittany, she easily shoved Brittany to the floor. I’d had brief interactions with Ashley during company team-building events. At that time, she and her fiancé had been together for eight years, going from school uniforms to a wedding dress. It had been such a challenging journey. When she mentioned getting married soon, she shed tears of excited joy. My heart sank. Eight years. Again, eight years… What a coincidence. Was this Brittany’s special hobby? Haha. Ashley, at her desk, watched her mother stand up for her, and instantly burst into tears. She took off her sunglasses, and many colleagues gasped. Maya grabbed my sleeve, startled, almost shouting, “Chloe, look, quickly, look…” I was truly shocked. Ashley had a massive bruise near her eye. She had clearly been hit. Her husband cheated on her, and she was being abused at home, yet she had to endure the humiliation and come to work. How much pain must she be in? The company manager and security guards rushed over, and the entire office erupted into chaos. Brittany’s chiffon blouse was disheveled, her face showed faint red handprints, and her neck and arms were scratched with red marks from nails. She struggled violently, trying to fight back, screaming, “I didn’t! Your man was seducing me!” Ashley couldn’t take it anymore. She delivered a vicious slap directly to Brittany’s face. “Brittany, don’t think everyone’s an idiot! I haven’t even mentioned your affair with that old man from the neighborhood!” Brittany froze, and so did everyone else… More than a few colleagues started murmuring. “There’s more?” “I can’t believe Brittany’s like this.” “She’s in sales, and I heard she barely does any work but always has the highest numbers. So, it’s all just shady dealings, isn’t it?” Brittany panicked, forcing herself to stand up. “You’re full of sh*t! If you say that again, I’ll sue you for defamation!” Ashley’s mother stood with her hands on her hips, indignantly pointing a finger at Brittany and yelling again, “Let’s go, let’s go! I don’t believe there’s no justice in this world!” Maya was practically jumping for joy, practically itching to expose all of Brittany’s dirty laundry and deliver a fatal blow. The company manager stepped in, urging everyone to keep the peace. This was a workplace, and he sternly ordered us casual observers to disperse and get back to work! As I left, my gaze accidentally met Brittany’s frantic eyes. I lowered my gaze and smiled. I smiled at her stupidity, at her digging her own grave. But what I didn’t expect was for Liam to show up. I met Liam at the coffee shop downstairs from the company. He looked haggard and much more tired. His hair hadn’t been styled in a long time, and his tie was crooked.

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