Ash Rhodes chased me for five years. The day after I finally said yes, I scrolled past a post from his childhood friend. [Ten years of secret love, finally over.] [My best friend since childhood is in a relationship. But it’s not with me.] [We were a story of missed timing and near misses. The most intimate we ever were was that kiss I stole when he was drunk.] [It’s a strange feeling, letting go of a decade of emotion. I’m heartbroken, but I’m also happy for him.] [If I had been the one to give him that piece of candy back then, would I be the one he loves now?] The comments section was full of people commiserating over her decade of silent heartbreak, admiring her dedication and the courage to finally let go. Ash’s reply sent the post’s engagement through the roof. He wrote: [I would.] I stared at that one word and let out a soft breath. Well, there was my reason to break up with him. 1 I sent the post link to Ash. “We’re done. I’m letting you have your ten-year-delayed happy ending.” Then I blocked him. It felt like a massive stone had been lifted from my chest. When I agreed to date him yesterday, I saw the shock in his eyes, and I definitely didn’t miss the flicker of regret that followed. He hadn’t seemed all that thrilled by my “yes.” But then, just as quickly, he’d squeezed my hand and pulled me into a tight hug. I instantly tensed up, biting back the urge to pull away, trying to coach myself. I said yes. Just try it. Maybe the feelings will come later. I woke up the next morning thinking: I want to break up. I simultaneously condemned myself as a terrible person while searching a popular social app for “how to dump your one-day-old boyfriend without seeming like a monster.” But soon, my attention was snagged by the bizarre, brightly colored world of other posts, and I forgot what I’d opened the app for. There was one post, ten thousand likes and climbing, with comments lamenting a ten-year crush. I glanced at the poster’s profile picture and my heart gave a jump. I switched to my texts. Ash’s profile picture was his Samoyed, the same dog his childhood friend had done a digital painting of for him. He’d sent me the artwork a while back, joking: “Serena Price loves all this over-the-top stuff. I still think your drawing style is better.” I’d been busy then, took a quick look, and didn’t reply. He had changed the subject shortly after. That artwork was warm and vibrant. I remembered it well. It was identical to the profile picture on the post. My suspicions piqued, I checked the IP address and clicked on the top reply—Ash’s infamous “I would.” The reply’s content was empty, but his saved bookmarks were full of restaurants Ash had once shared with me. I froze for a moment. The top commenter was the boyfriend I’d just officially confirmed. The poster was my new boyfriend’s childhood friend. They had a decade of painful history, a tragic missed connection. It was truly a shame. Could I, a genuinely good person, stand by and watch this tragedy unfold right in front of me? My lips curved into a wild smile as I typed a new comment: “Oh my God, that’s terrible! You should have said something sooner. I was already rooting for you guys!” “It’s not too late. I’m breaking up with him right now. You two are meant to be. Congrats on your forever!” 2 After sending Serena my blessing and blocking Ash, I crawled back into bed for a proper rest. Regret over saying yes to him yesterday had kept me up all night. Now, with my conscience clear, I fell into a deep sleep the moment my head hit the pillow. It felt like only minutes had passed when a relentless pounding on the door and the frantic ringing of the doorbell woke me up. I walked to the entryway, my face wooden and a fire of pure irritation burning inside me. I peeked through the security hole and saw two figures. A frantic Ash. A despondent Serena Price. I checked my phone. The Threads app was blowing up with messages. The “tea” was boiling over, and strangers were flooding my DMs. My blocked number was getting an endless stream of calls and texts. All of them were Ash begging me to reconsider. I grabbed a handful of my hair in exasperation. What the hell? They finally got their wish. Why weren’t they making out somewhere instead of showing up at my door to whine? The banging switched to knocking. Ash yelled, “Sky, it’s not what you think! I only love you!” The moment he yelled my name, I pictured how I’d have to face my neighbors later, the strange looks and the whispers. “Yeah, that’s her. The one with the crazy drama on her doorstep. Tsk, tsk.” A chill ran down my spine. I flung the door open. “Shut up!” Ash’s eyes immediately lit up. “Sky, I brought Serena here so we could explain. There’s nothing between us. We’re just friends.” Serena, red-eyed and pale, managed a bitter smile and a nod. “He’s right. Just friends.” But my focus was entirely on— My nosy neighbor’s door, which had just creaked open a crack. 3 I didn’t want to bring them inside. I was terrified that if they got too emotional, I’d end up as a neighborhood news item. So, I kept the door open, letting my neighbor eavesdrop to their heart’s content. “Okay, are you done explaining? Anything else?” I hissed, urging them in a low voice, “If that’s it, then please leave. I’m begging you.” Ash’s face was even more anguished than mine. He grabbed my hand desperately. “Please don’t break up with me. It’s all a misunderstanding. Serena doesn’t have feelings for me anymore. Nothing is ever going to happen between us. We grew up together. I only think of her like a sister. If I had ever…” The line was so cliché I couldn’t help but interrupt. “If you had ever, you’d be together already, and I wouldn’t be standing here, would I?” Ash was speechless. Serena’s face paled further. She stared blankly at the ground, then suddenly spoke up. “He’s right. I don’t love Ash anymore.” That declaration made Ash flinch. His expression turned dark, a hint of genuine anger lurking beneath the surface. He forced a smile for me. “See? Sky, you heard her. I’m completely innocent. I chased you for five years. You know how I feel.” I leaned against the doorframe, watching their subtle, dramatic exchange. Such touching melodrama. “The kind of innocent that involves stolen kisses?” Ash frowned, looking at Serena. “I had no idea she did that. It was something she did in secret.” Serena stubbornly fought back tears. “It’s true. On his birthday this year, he was drunk, and I kissed him while I was taking care of him. He didn’t know.” I’d been at Ash’s birthday party this year. It was loud, with tons of friends. But I hated the atmosphere, the way everyone kept trying to push Ash and me together, so I made an excuse and left early. A thought struck me, referencing her post. “Ash, you love me because of that candy—you’d love anyone who offered you kindness when you were at your lowest. Your reply to Serena confirms that you’re still looking for that feeling, no matter who offers it. You’re not completely over her.” A flicker of hope crossed Serena’s eyes. Ash vehemently denied it. “No! I only said I would to comfort her! I swear, if I had even an ounce of romantic feeling for her…” “Stop it!” Serena’s shout was louder than my earlier command to “shut up.” The neighbor’s door even shuddered slightly. Ash looked at Serena in surprise. Serena took a deep, shaky breath, looked at me, and her expression became one of absolute resolve. “I will never see Ash again. If I ever try to have a relationship with him, I’ll swear to whatever curse you want. Are you satisfied?” I frowned. “I already told you I broke up with him…” She closed her eyes, wiping away a tear. “If you’re satisfied, then stop this whole drama. He truly, genuinely cares about you.” Serena didn’t look at Ash again. She simply turned and walked away. Ash watched her retreating back, lost in thought for a long moment. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Does she not understand basic English?” My remark made Ash turn back. His eyes were tired, and his voice was raw. “There. Sky, are you satisfied now?” I took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll admit it. The post isn’t the only reason I broke up with you. The truth is, I just don’t like you that much. And you clearly still have some kind of feelings for Serena, don’t you? I’m bowing out. You two get together. It’s a win-win-win. Everyone’s happy, right?” The fatigue vanished from Ash’s face. It turned an unhealthy shade of green. “What did you say? You don’t like me?” I guess I couldn’t get out of this without revealing myself as the bad guy. I nodded weakly. “Yes. I know I’m not a great person, but you and Serena weren’t exactly innocent, either. Pot calling the kettle black. Let’s just call it even and move on!” Ash looked at me, utterly disbelieving. “You’re saying you don’t like me?” Me: … 4 A string of muffled laughter came from behind the neighbor’s door. The person inside tried to cover it up. “That main character is a total zero, tsk.” I coughed loudly, and the neighbor finally closed the door. Ash’s face was grim, his body faintly trembling. I was genuinely afraid he might try something, and I slowly shuffled backward into my apartment. Ash clenched his fists, staring deeply at me. “I know you’re upset about Serena’s post. You don’t have to make up excuses. I’m giving you time to think clearly.” He turned and walked away, his posture just as resolute as Serena’s. I stood silently for a moment. I went back to my room, miserable, and opened my phone. My Threads DMs were flooded with drama-hungry strangers. I clicked on Serena’s post. It had been updated ten minutes ago. [Yes, I loved him for ten years, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to be a prop in their little drama. Do they need to insult me to prove their relationship is real?] [Ten years, I was completely blind.] [My love gave him a filter. Now that the love is gone, he’s nothing special.] [Since it’s come to this, I wish you a long and happy life together. Your business is no longer mine. Stop bothering me.] Every sentence was a targeted blow. The mob was already coming for me. [She had a secret crush, and she was letting go. You didn’t have to humiliate her.] [Wifey needs to control her man. She just wanted closure, and your boyfriend was the one who ran over to reply ‘I would.’] [(Insert Viral Reaction GIF here)] Are these people serious? I was so angry I threw a quick set of air punches. I slipped on my house shoes and knocked on the next-door neighbor’s door. The drama-lover on the other side was surprisingly reluctant to open up. I knocked for three minutes before he slowly opened the door. “You two were yelling so loud. Is it my fault I overheard everything…?” I cut him off. “Hurry up. Give me the recording.” The camera by my door was broken; the new one was still in the mail. He paused, glancing at the camera with the blinking red light. “What happened?” I rolled up my sleeve, gritting my teeth. “An epic battle with a pair of total drama llamas. Eight hundred rounds of mutual roasting.” 5 In under three minutes, I received a video file from Dean Wallace. A gamer’s hands are certainly fast. I walked back toward my place, downloading the file. Dean followed me. “Where did you have this fight? Let me in on it. I’m excellent at trash talk. Hello…” I shut the door on him. Is being the subject of an online witch hunt something to be proud of? I edited the video, censoring the faces, and uploaded it. I tagged Serena and Ash with the caption: “Are you two for real?” Dean’s video only showed Serena walking away. The crowd rushed in: [Classic: ‘She’s just like a sister to me.’] [And the ‘Stop making drama’ line.] [Who exactly was using who as a prop in the end…] [Sending signals to a crush when you have a girlfriend is trashy. Boyfriend is 100% the villain. Confirmed.] [How do we define ‘stolen’ kiss? If you steal it then post about it online, is it really stealing?] [I wanted to say this after the first post: Asking if he would love you instead when he’s currently dating someone is so cringe. Who are you trying to annoy?] I felt the pressure in my chest release a little. I started replying to everyone who had insulted me. [Humiliate? Sweetie, the childhood friends ganged up on me. The nice girl finally fought back.] [Wifey? That’s my ex. Keep calling me that, and you’ll be calling your own husband names.] [(Insert Viral Reaction GIF here)] I was in the middle of my glorious comeback when the system notified me the post had been taken down. A slight regret. My phone started buzzing with texts. I checked. It was Dean Wallace sending me a screenshot. It was Serena’s post. He wrote: [In case you rage-quit, I archived it for you.] This guy was actually experienced at online drama. I sent him a fist-bump emoji: [You’re a man of integrity.] He replied with a reaction GIF. Wait a second. How did he find the post? [How did you find that?] This guy is a tech expert. Did he hack my phone? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Dean Wallace: [It popped up under ‘Nearby People’ recommendations.] …Oops. I guess my paranoia is a little over the top. 6 My phone started ringing. I have three rules for calls I won’t answer: No answer for numbers without a contact name. No answer for suspected spam or scam calls. No answer for calls I just don’t want to take. This call met all three criteria. I waited for it to go to voicemail. I let out a sigh of relief. The next second, it rang again. I bit my finger, waiting for it to automatically hang up. I sighed again. Then the number sent me a text message: [No one is innocent in this online war, but you’re the culprit. Aren’t you afraid you’ll wake up screaming in the middle of the night?] Attached was a photo of a rooftop taken from a downward angle. Did I commit a federal crime by dating someone for half a day? Relationships are my doom. I immediately unblocked Ash and sent him a screenshot of the text: [Your childhood friend is about to jump off a roof.] Then I called the police. The photo included a landmark, so the location wouldn’t be hard to find. I changed clothes and headed out, running into Dean Wallace as he was going to take out the trash. He looked surprised. “What’s the occasion? The Mole has surfaced?” I work from home, and my work attire is pajamas. I barely leave the apartment once a month. I gave him a look, like I’d just tasted something foul. “I’m about to go down without taking the stairs or the elevator.” Dean looked thoughtful. “The Bat-Woman.” I quickly walked toward the elevator. “I’m not the one flying. Someone is about to jump.” Dean grabbed his trash bag and hurried after me. “Who? The Ten-Year-Crush, or The ‘Will’ Guy?” I pressed the elevator button. “The Ten-Year-Crush.” I bit my tongue. What terrible nicknames. And I was using them, too. Dean followed me into the elevator and immediately pressed the button for the underground parking garage. “You’re taking the trash to the garage?” He looked at me righteously. “Is trash more important than a human life? Trust me, if I didn’t love gaming more, I’d be a race car driver.” I glanced at him. The words thrill seeker were practically glowing above his head. But I didn’t call him out. I got into the passenger seat of his car. He threw the trash bag in the back seat. With one step on the gas pedal, we were off like a shot. I was the first to arrive. On the rooftop, Serena was sitting on the ledge. I spoke hesitantly. “Serena, it’s not worth it for any man. Really.” Serena looked out at the distance and spoke softly. “Do you know how long I loved him? Ten years… How many decades does a person get? And now that entire decade of devotion has become a source of shame.” “Do you know how crushed I was when I found out he liked you? But you don’t even appreciate him. What I desperately wished for, you treat with indifference…” “Five years. I watched him pursue you for five years, and you never said yes. I waited and waited, hoping he would finally give up on you. But you changed your mind, and my hope was crushed all over again.” I licked my lips. What comforting words could a reclusive mole person possibly offer? I nudged Dean with my elbow. He nodded at me, giving me a determined look. Hope surged in my chest, and then I heard him say: “You’re waiting for him to finally notice you, right? If you jump, what you’re really waiting for is for him to come visit your grave every year.”

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I was his longest commitment. The gossip whispered that my methods were masterful, that he was actually going to marry me. “Marriage? Is that even possible?” The lighter in his hand flipped open, the sharp click echoing in the dark. “She and the rest of them—they’re all gold-diggers.” That was the day after I threw myself in front of a car to save his life. I opened the hospital room door. Under his cold, watchful gaze, I climbed onto the railing and dropped twenty-eight stories. It was the end of a life spent enslaved to the system that governed my love-struck brain. 1 Valentine’s Day. On the subway, during the evening rush. The phone screen of the stranger next to me was paused on a financial news report. His name appeared. Rhys Kincaid. Sometimes he felt impossibly distant. Other times, impossibly close. Close enough that I still walked into the grocery store and instinctively picked out only the foods he liked. “Be home in ten.” He didn’t reply. The penthouse residence. The moment the door opened, I smelled a perfume that wasn’t mine. “Don’t you need to leave and be with your girlfriend?” She was already sitting up on the sectional, pulling her dress straight. Her legs were straight and pale. The kind of sharp, young beauty that belonged to a girl barely twenty. “Girlfriend?” He was hidden in the half-shadow of the living room, his tone noncommittal. “Do I have one?” Everyone in our circle knew I’d been with him for ten years. “Oh, you’re bad!” The little dog found me first. It wagged its tail and pushed the door fully open. All eyes turned to me. She ran over and threw her arms around mine. “Gen, you’re home!” Skylar was my younger cousin, currently staying with me while she started college in the city. “Look what Rhys gave me!” She shook the high-end designer bag on her wrist. In all our years, I had never once asked him for a gift. The things he had sent me, I had never touched. I thought that by refusing his money, I could distinguish myself from all the other women in his orbit. Eventually, he stopped sending them. Yet now, he gifted a fortune without a second thought. Of course. To him, what was the difference between ten thousand and a million? Just as, to him, what was the difference between me and the rest of them? “Skylar, go back to your room.” She listened to me. She glanced at Rhys Kincaid first, then slowly shuffled away. “You’re back?” He asked, though he clearly saw me. I walked in and set the bags of groceries on the kitchen island. “The kid was just playing around.” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He still carried her scent. Sickly sweet. A smell entirely unlike mine. I turned my face away from his kiss. He let go. “If I really wanted her, I wouldn’t need to sneak around behind your back.” He only offered an explanation once. If I didn’t take the out, the fault would be mine. I took a deep breath. “I only ask one thing of you. Don’t touch her.” His expression was indifferent. He lifted a hand and brushed the hair from my temple. “Were you having fun with your boss, Marcus?” “Why are you dragging him into this?” “He has you working late every night. Who knows what you’re doing in that office?” I pulled my arm free of his touch. “Rhys Kincaid, be reasonable.” Skylar rushed out of the room. “Gen, please don’t fight with Rhys because of me.” He smirked, leaning against the marble counter. “See? The kid is more sensible than you are.” I pursed my lips, grabbing my purse to leave. He caught the strap and yanked it back. “Enough. Are you really making a scene? Do you think you’re that important?” “Rhys Kincaid, anyone but my cousin. She just graduated high school!” He laughed, his eyes lifting lazily. “You were about her age when you climbed on board.” “And she’s much prettier than you.” “Why is it okay for you, but not for her?” Skylar started to cry. She came over and anxiously took my hand. “Gen.” I didn’t want her to hear any more cruel words. I had promised her mother I would look after her. “Come on. We’re staying somewhere else tonight.” She didn’t move. She hung her head, standing right next to Rhys Kincaid. “Skylar?” “Gen.” She hid behind him. “You go ahead. Rhys will take care of me.” I froze in place. She had only been here for two weeks. She’d barely seen him more than a handful of times. “When your mother used to favor your brother and hit you, who stepped in and took the beating for you?” She avoided my gaze, looking utterly pathetic. “When you didn’t have money for high school, who worked her ass off to pay your tuition?” “You’ve known him for less than a month, and now you want me to leave?” “Skylar, after everything I’ve done for you, do you have any conscience at all?” She frowned slightly. Tears welled up, making her look like a damsel in distress. “I didn’t ask you to be good to me. Don’t use moral blackmail.” “Besides, wasn’t all that money yours anyway, thanks to Rhys?” “His money?” I lifted my chin. “Ask him if I have ever taken a single cent from him.” “No. Because you’re pure.” He mocked me with a laugh. He carelessly picked up the groceries from the island and threw the bag at me. “Then take your damn groceries and go. What are you sticking around for?” I didn’t move. I looked straight into his eyes. “Rhys Kincaid, do you think I can never leave you?” He raised an eyebrow lightly. “Could you?” A jolt of painful, physiological shock went through me. I collapsed onto the floor, trembling. Next to me, his voice was laced with derision. “Starting to act now?” [Host’s clarity value rising, punishment initiated.] The system’s voice echoed in my mind. I tried to get up, shaking, but my strength failed me, and I was overcome with cold. Why did I ever love this man? [He is rich, powerful, and handsome. He is the best choice in the world.] [Given your background, meeting him is winning the lottery.] He treats women like toys. [So what? He loves you.] Dizzily, I looked up. Beneath his prominent brow ridge, his eyes were utterly cold and impassive. He still thought I was faking it. I asked the system how I could complete the task. [There is no ‘complete the task.’] [This is a perfect life.] [He is just mistreating you now. Soon he will realize he loves you.] [You will be the happiest woman alive.] [You shouldn’t be upset.] The next second, my vision went black. Before I passed out, I saw a flicker of panic and concern in his eyes. Ah. That was the moment he was supposed to “realize he loved me.” How ridiculous. After ten years, I had the thought for the first time: I wanted to die. Not for him. But to take the system controlling my body down with me. I was too tired. When I opened my eyes, I was in bed. He was slumped on a sofa nearby, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. The moment I moved, he was alert. “Awake?” “Rhys Kincaid.” I looked at him. The mental pain from the electric shock made the tears stream down my face the moment I spoke. He froze. I rarely showed any weakness. He walked over and pulled me into a hug. “It meant nothing with her.” “She’s not even my type.” His thumb brushed away my tears. “I was just angry.” “Why were you willing to ask your boss for help, but not me?” “Gen Lane, am I really that unreliable to you?” So that was what mattered to him. Skylar’s previous art audition had required an exclusive private lesson with a professor, and my boss, Marcus, had arranged it. I could have easily asked Rhys. It would have been nothing to him. But I didn’t want to. I was desperate to keep this relationship uncomplicated. “I can’t pay you back.” I pulled his hand away. “I can repay Marcus. I can’t repay you.” He countered, “When have I not helped you?” I asked back, “How long can you help me?” How long would he even stay with me? We both knew the truth. The power in this relationship was never mine. He was silent for a long moment. “So this is why you faked fainting?” I couldn’t help but smile. A sense of reckless abandon took hold. “Yes, I was faking it. I want to marry you. Is that too much to ask?” Rhys Kincaid’s eyes were dark and steady. He had clearly already made his final judgment of me. “I’ve given you everything I can.” “Gen, don’t be greedy.” The door was slightly ajar. I knew Skylar was still listening. For the next month, Rhys Kincaid didn’t come near me. Skylar moved out. She claimed she was moving into the dorms for orientation. But I knew Rhys had bought her a condo in a high-rise near campus. On my birthday, he called. “What do you want for your birthday?” I was packing. Clearing out every item that belonged to me from the penthouse. In the end, it was only two suitcases. “I don’t want anything.” My eyes were empty, but my voice was gentle. “Could you stay with me?” Silence on the other end. I heard the sounds of foot traffic. He was on a business trip overseas—the place he’d promised to take me. “Can’t make it back. Be good, I’ll call you when I’m done.” I hung up. I moved out of the apartment. That night, Skylar flew overseas, alone, to find him. He was furious. Angry at her reckless impulsiveness. She was like a willful child. But she told him she missed him too much to wait. He kept her. In his hotel. The next day, he cleared his schedule to take her skiing. She was clumsy but reckless. Rhys taught her a few basics, and she immediately wanted to tackle the advanced slope. The accident happened as expected. He was nearly hit trying to shield her. She instinctively reached out to pull him back. She just nicked her calf. She was taken to the hospital. Sawyer, his friend, told me all of this as I stood in the corridor of the international hospital. “Guess what she said when she woke up?” I didn’t respond. He continued. “She was sobbing hysterically.” “And she told Rhys, ‘How could you? I was so afraid it was you who got hurt!’” The glass reflected the images of Sawyer and me. “That was the first time I ever saw genuine emotion in his eyes.” “What man can resist that? Gen, you can’t play her game.” The hospital room door opened. Sawyer offered a quick greeting and left. It was just Rhys and me. “You promised me,” I said, not looking at him, “that you wouldn’t fall for her.” Rhys spoke softly. “Do you know the difference between you and her?” “She never talks to me like this.” “She just loves me.” “Gen, why can’t you be like her?” He probably expected me to throw a fit, based on my past temperament. But I didn’t. I just smiled. “So, are you breaking up with me?” “How much money do you want?” he asked. I looked up at him. There was not a ripple of emotion in his eyes. He looked like he was simply processing a routine change in personnel. “I want a lot of money.” I gave him the answer he expected. “Give me your entire fortune.” Predictably, he frowned slightly. Finally, an expression. Then, he smiled, his eyes cold. “Do you deserve it?” “She would die for me. Could you?” Before returning to the States, Sawyer threw a party and invited me. It was a private club, the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. Neon lights intersected beneath the inky blue night. Rhys arrived late. As soon as he did, people stood to greet him. Skylar was right behind him. Her small scratch had healed in three days. The guests’ judging eyes subtly landed on me. But Rhys didn’t spare me a single glance. The sound of mahjong tiles clicked again. Skylar, with her long, dark hair, was trying to play but failing. Rhys chuckled, patiently guiding her moves. As he leaned in, his hand rested on the back of her mahogany chair. Her hair occasionally brushed the back of his hand. “New arm candy?” I was standing on the terrace getting air. I overheard a few women chatting near the window. “After all these years, he was bound to get bored.” “I thought she was clever enough to lock him down. Thought they were going to get married.” “He spoiled her so much back then. Now he’s moved on—it’s always the same, just another toy.” I pulled my jacket tighter and turned. I saw Skylar. She was toying with Rhys Kincaid’s lighter. She smiled, radiating innocence. “Gen, are you jealous that I stole him?” I headed back to the table to grab my purse and leave. Sawyer stopped me. “Don’t go. The fun’s just started.” He said it to me, but his eyes were testing Rhys. Rhys lifted his eyes dismissively, looking at Sawyer’s hand wrapped around my wrist. He smiled loosely. “She doesn’t have a place here.” “Of course she does.” Sawyer stood up and pulled out a seat for me. “Let’s play for high stakes.” His hand was still on my wrist. “If I win, I get Genevieve for the night, how about that?” Rhys’s fingers paused. I looked into his eyes—those famously charming eyes. They were entirely, naturally cynical. He didn’t refuse. I sat down. Rhys didn’t join the game; Skylar sat in his spot. But this time, he didn’t teach her anything. He just watched, silent. The result, of course, was that I won. But Skylar wore the satisfied expression of a victor. Sawyer grabbed his sports car keys and led me away. Before the car crossed the bridge, another luxury sedan cut us off. Rhys Kincaid sat alone in the driver’s seat. His eyes were empty, and he waited with unnatural patience. He was waiting for me to step out of another man’s car. But I didn’t. “In such a hurry?” He got out of his car and tossed my purse at Sawyer. “You forgot her bag.” I watched him calmly. “Thank you. Is there anything else?” His gaze shifted to me. Clearly, there wasn’t. I tried to roll up the window. He slammed his hand on the door, yanked it open, and roughly pulled me out. “Rhys!” A car sped past, drowning out the rest of Sawyer’s protest. Rhys shot him a look, and Sawyer fell silent. “Run off with the next guy before the check even cleared? Is that what I taught you?” The words hadn’t even fully left his mouth. A scream rang out behind us. [Event triggered.] The system voice sounded. I saw the distant figure raising a gun. My body moved without my consent. I shielded Rhys Kincaid. [Congratulations, Host. The Abuse Fiction storyline is complete.] As the bullet tore into my body, I felt nothing.

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“You are the center of my universe, Anya. For you, I’d take on the world!” When Rhys Thorne knelt before me, his eyes brimming with what looked like devoted passion, publicly proposing marriage, I felt no happiness. Only a cold wave of dread and profound fury washed over me. No one else knew this was the third time he had asked me to marry him. In the first life, I had tearfully accepted, imagining a lifetime of perfect happiness stretching before us. It was only after the wedding that I discovered Rhys had been financially supporting another woman, a sleek-haired marketing executive named Talia Vance. I confronted him, the argument escalating until I demanded a divorce. That was when he pinned me down and, with a terrifying tenderness on his face, choked the life out of me. In the second life, I had refused his proposal outright. Rhys went on to marry Talia, but he stalked me relentlessly, an unshakeable shadow. When Talia finally crumbled, tearfully demanding he release me and grant her a divorce, Rhys had held her close, whispering undying vows of love to her even as his other hand clamped firmly over her mouth and nose, suffocating her. After he killed Talia, he had turned to me, his gaze still unsettlingly tender, and said, “Anya, promise me you’ll never leave me. Say you won’t, my love.” I remember staring at him, paralyzed by terror, wanting to scream, to call the police, before his hands were around my own throat again, squeezing the air out of my lungs for the final time. Dead twice now, what was I supposed to do when faced with this sociopath’s third proposal? Who the hell did he actually love? 1 My hesitation made the look in Rhys’s eyes soften even further, becoming dangerously gentle. He spoke with deep sincerity, loud enough for the onlookers. “Darling, we’ve been together for so long. You know who I am.” “You are my absolute one and only. I cannot live without you.” “I swear, from this day forward, I will never give you cause to doubt me.” Rhys’s friends, all tailored suits and expensive watches, started to whoop and cheer from the sidelines. “Anya, what are you waiting for? A perfect catch like Rhys? Miss this, and you’ll regret it forever!” “Rhys is worth billions, looks like a top male model, and is the most devoted guy in the city. He’s every woman’s dream. Don’t be foolish, Anya. Say yes!” “He’s got a massive wedding planned! The dress is a custom creation by a European master, worth a fortune.” “And he bought that two-hundred-million-dollar estate just for you. Just waiting for the two of you to move in after the honeymoon!” The chorus of advice and encouragement left me untouched. In fact, I wanted to laugh. To the world, Rhys Thorne was the ideal man: successful, handsome, and deeply in love. Who could ever suspect that this man, who looked at me with such fervor, was a monstrous, psychologically twisted killer? I once thought his true love was Talia, especially after the first life when he killed me over her. But the end of the second life had plunged me into deeper confusion. The question was still screaming in my mind: Who was the psychopath truly obsessed with? I took a sharp breath, staring down at Rhys, who was still kneeling, my disgust curdling into cold hatred. I spoke in a voice that was low and clear. “Mr. Thorne, please. I have my heart set on someone else.” The entire room went silent. Rhys froze for a beat, a faint crease appearing between his eyebrows. He still managed to keep his tone warm and gentle. “Anya, please don’t joke. You couldn’t possibly have feelings for anyone else.” “My devotion to you is absolute, the heavens are my witness…” I didn’t wait for him to finish. My voice was a block of ice. “Believe what you like, but I will not, under any circumstances, marry you.” With that, I turned and walked away, ignoring the stunned silence and the frozen faces of his friends. Behind me, Rhys let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Anya, whether that’s true or not, my feelings for you remain unchanged.” “I will wait. I’ll wait until you come back to me, until you’re ready to spend forever by my side.” His words prompted another round of commiseration from his friends, who began tut-tutting about my poor judgment while praising Rhys’s unbelievable devotion. I didn’t look back. My scalp was tingling, and my heart hammered with raw panic. In the second life, I had rejected him, but he clung to me like a sickness even after marrying Talia. There was no shaking him off. I had been given a third chance. I absolutely could not repeat the same mistakes. My first thought was to escape. But I had tried that in the second life, too—even fleeing to Europe. Rhys had tracked me down every time, as if he’d implanted a GPS chip beneath my skin. How could I possibly get rid of this man for good? Lost in thought, my phone vibrated in my hand. I looked at the screen, and my breath hitched. My pupils contracted instantly. Talia Vance was calling. Hesitantly, I answered. Before I could speak, Talia’s voice, raw and panicked, rushed through the speaker. “Anya! Did you just refuse his proposal?” “That sick, twisted bastard just called me. He wants to propose to me now.” “What am I supposed to do?” Talia’s frantic words sent a shockwave through me. I didn’t even think before I spoke. “You’ve been reborn too?” 2 It was late evening at a discreet corner cafe downtown. Talia and I sat facing each other, surrounded by an awkward, heavy silence. In the past, we had hated one another, each convinced the other was the vile mistress who had destroyed her marriage. Now, as we looked at each other, our eyes held a shared, profound pity and a sense of shared trauma. Talia was the first to speak, her voice raspy. “I wasn’t a mistress. He never ‘kept’ me.” “In the first life, I truly didn’t know he was with you. I was a fool, Anya. I bought the perfect boyfriend act. I was utterly deceived.” “It wasn’t until you showed up and confronted me that I understood. After he killed you, I tried to call the police, and he strangled me with a length of rope.” I sighed heavily. “If you knew what a monster he was, why on earth did you marry him in the second life?” Talia rubbed her face, her jaw clenched. “My memory of the first life didn’t fully return until after the wedding. It was late, Anya. Too late.” I lowered my voice. “In the second life, no matter where I ran, he found me. He was like a leech, impossible to scrape off. The moment he killed you, he came straight back for me.” “I still don’t understand. Who the hell does he love?” Talia gave a bitter, humorless laugh. “I initially thought the psycho only loved himself. But in the second life, I started to notice things.” “The woman he truly loves—she has to be connected to us somehow.” “We’re both just substitutes for her!” I nodded, the pieces of my own memories starting to fall into place. “I noticed things in the second life too.” “He always had a faint, strange scent on him. It wasn’t a cologne or any perfume either of us wore. It was odd—almost like a musty, earthy, medicinal smell.” “And every month, he would disappear for a few days without explanation.” Talia pounded her fist lightly on the table, frustrated. “If he has someone he loves, why torture us? Why the obsession?” “What is going on in that monster’s mind?” It’s impossible for a normal person to understand a psychopath’s logic. Talia and I talked for hours, long after the cafe had emptied. Her plan was to accept Rhys’s latest proposal, but only to secretly cooperate with me. We needed to find out who the real woman was. If we could find her, we could finally expose Rhys’s hideous true face to the world. As we walked out, I had a strange, prickling sensation on my neck. It felt like my paranoia from the second life had returned. I couldn’t shake the feeling that a pair of eyes was watching us from the shadows. Back at my apartment, I sat in front of my laptop, listing all the connections and confrontations I’d had with Rhys, hoping to find a pattern. A few days later, Talia and Rhys were married. She was contacting me frequently, sharing her findings. “Rhys’s study has a secret vault beneath it. I have no idea what he’s hiding.” “That strange smell he carries? It comes from that vault.” “I’m convinced she’s hidden down there. I’m looking for a window of opportunity to sneak in when he’s away…” I cautioned her to be extremely careful. I also told her what I had uncovered. “Whether he married you or me, he always makes his move exactly one week after the wedding.” “I checked the traditional calendar. That day is the third of the third lunar month. It must be a date of profound significance to him.” “If you’re going to get into that vault, you have to do it before that day.” Talia and I were both electrified with nervous hope. For the first time, we saw a sliver of light in the darkness. … The third of the third month was tomorrow. Talia hadn’t contacted me all day. I felt a building anxiety, a cold knot in my stomach. Based on Rhys’s previous pattern, he would make his move tomorrow. Had Talia found his secret? Did she have the clue to the woman he truly loved? I called her several times, but it went straight to voicemail. Had something happened? Just as my heart began to pound with certainty that the worst had happened, my phone chirped with a new message. It was from Talia. She said Rhys had gotten absolutely drunk and passed out. This was her chance to slip into the secret vault. She asked me to come to the house immediately. 3 I didn’t hesitate. I threw on a jacket and raced to Rhys’s sprawling estate. The heavy front door was ajar, and the thick, pungent smell of expensive liquor spilled out into the night. My shoulders dropped in relief. Talia had done it. I didn’t care how she’d managed to get him drunk, but if Rhys was truly out cold, our plan might still succeed. I slipped quietly into the house. I knew this home intimately. After all, I had been the woman Rhys intended to make its mistress—twice. I navigated the sprawling, immaculate halls to the study. The heavy oak door was slightly ajar, just as Talia had indicated. As I reached to push it open, a sudden, primal tremor ran through me. Something was wrong. I couldn’t name it, but my heart started hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. This was the same instinct, the same chilling premonition of danger, I had felt in the moments before Rhys had killed me in the previous lives. Without a second thought, I spun around to flee. But I was too late. The study door swung open, and a hand like a steel clamp shot out, seizing my arm. Rhys stood there. He looked perfectly fine, still holding that warm, gentle expression. His grip was impossibly tight. No matter how hard I twisted or struggled, I couldn’t break free. My heart sank into the icy depths of dread. Rhys was not drunk. Not even close. He smiled at me, a soft, chilling smile. “Anya. You finally came.” “I saw you and Talia together. I worried you might fight, but it seems you’ve become the dearest of friends! That makes me so happy, Anya. You are my greatest love, and she is my other great love. Seeing you two get along so well…” “So I decided to use her phone to invite you over tonight.” He had been tracking us? And he knew about my alliance with Talia? My entire body went cold. I glared at him, grinding my teeth. “What did you do to Talia?” “You sick, twisted bastard, I should have—” He didn’t let me finish. He dragged me violently into the study, his smile unchanged. “Don’t worry, darling. She’s sleeping peacefully now.” “You’re too agitated, Anya. You should rest as well.” “After tonight, we will all have a new beginning.” Before I could process his words, he slammed a cloth over my mouth and nose. The smell was acrid, chemical. I fought, but my vision blurred, and the world went dark.

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During the reality show challenge with the A-list movie star, a rising newcomer actress and I were locked inside the same room. The Director announced the rules: the door would only open when the two people whose hearts truly beat as one joined hands. The person left behind would face an immediate career penalty and be forced out of the industry. As soon as I grasped the stakes, I grabbed the movie star’s hand and moved toward the door. After all, everyone in the industry knew we’d been together for ten years and had just recently married. The day we announced our wedding, the entire internet crashed, and our shipper fanbase was larger than some top-tier idols combined. But when I gripped his hand and tried the knob, the door didn’t budge. The moment I froze, his hand slipped from my palm. The lock clicked open. When I finally lifted my head, Rhys Maxwell and Willow Tate were standing in the open doorway, their fingers laced together. 1 In that instant, it wasn’t just me. The entire internet paused. On the live stream, captured by the real-time cameras, the comment section exploded: [WHAT IS HAPPENING?! The door that the A-List star and CEO Avery Stone—the ultimate power couple—couldn’t open, was opened by him and the newcomer?] [The Rhavery shippers are going to riot, Director! You are about to be completely canceled!] [Didn’t they say the door was connected to a heart-rate monitor? Does this mean Rhys and Willow’s hearts raced when they held hands?!] [Don’t be ridiculous! Senior Rhys was obviously just being kind! He didn’t want to bully a new actress with the show’s cruel challenge!] [Exactly! The production team paired ‘Rhavery’ with Willow for this mission just to eliminate her! Rhys clearly remembered his own humble beginnings and stepped in. Don’t be so sexual-minded, people!] I slowly looked at Rhys. The eyes that used to hold such gentle affection were now icy, tinged with a cold impatience at being caught. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” Willow immediately snatched her hand away, her eyes wide with feigned fear. “Rhys and I were just acting, ma’am. He only didn’t want to see me eliminated in the very first round. Please, don’t think anything of it!” I raised an eyebrow and glanced at the heart-rate monitor beside the door. The machine, which had been as flat and dead as still water when Rhys and I touched, had spiked the moment his fingers intertwined with Willow’s. “To be able to fool a machine, your acting must be Oscar-worthy.” “I…” “Avery!” Rhys frowned, subtly shifting his body to block my direct view of Willow. “Willow is a new talent who debuted just last year. It would be a tragedy for her career to end over a game. I only wanted to do what was in my power, the way you helped me all those years ago.” So, he did remember. He remembered that it was I who went against the entire board to establish the talent division, signed him out of the crowd of forgotten extras, and then spent years molding him into the coveted multi-talented actor he was today. How could he dare? How could he publicly cheat on me with a new actress, right under my nose, with countless cameras rolling? “The rules state that the person left behind must accept the career penalty.” I looked up at Rhys. “You’re taking her with you? Did you stop to think about what would happen to me?” The red light of the camera blinked above my head, a silent, mocking eye. In the moment of Rhys’s silence, the comments boiled over again: [Wait! Avery Stone hasn’t been in a lot of movies, but she made her debut with Rhys on ‘Second Chance Skyline’ over a decade ago! Is the production team really going to play this hardball?] [What is wrong with Rhys? He’s ignoring his wife to help a rookie? And Willow, can you not read the room when the actual wife is standing right there?] [Leave Willow out of this! Blame the Director! The pairing was a disaster! Our Willow’s screen time is being stolen by ‘Rhavery’!] [Setting aside the drama, doesn’t anyone think the Rhavery vibe is off today? Could their marriage really be on the rocks?] “Avery.” Rhys sighed. “You have the Stone family behind you. Even if you retire as an actress, you’re still the CEO of Stone Entertainment! But Willow is different. She has nothing…” “So?” I cut him off. “You want me to retire?” Rhys pursed his lips. The darting of his eyes and his heavy silence answered for him. I let out a hollow laugh, pulled out my phone, logged into my social media, and posted a concise retirement statement. Rhys instantly relaxed. He reached out and touched my head, a patronizing gesture. “That’s my girl. You weren’t classically trained anyway. Opportunities should be given to the younger talent.” With that, he shot a glance at Willow and led her out the door. I signaled the cameraman to cut the feed, then called my assistant, Leo. “Call Director Kincaid. The male lead for his new A-List Tentpole, The Crest, needs to be replaced.” Leo’s voice hitched. “Mrs. Stone, did you and Rhys… have a fight?” “No,” I said. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, I continued. “We’re getting a divorce.” 2 Leo inhaled sharply. “Ma’am… what about Director Kincaid’s film? Rhys was set as the lead. The penalty fees aside, Kincaid won’t find a replacement on such short notice!” A broadcast announcing ‘MIDSESSION BREAK’ played just as a young crew member sent by the production team approached to remove my mic pack. He had pale skin, sharp features, and a clean profile. As his fingers deftly worked to detach the equipment near my collarbone, I suddenly raised my hand and tilted his chin up. The coldness of my touch made him flinch, but his hands didn’t stop moving. He pressed the button on his headset. “Area B, Room 302. Please bring a cup of hot water for Mrs. Stone.” He was bold. And smart. “Do you want to act?” I asked him. When I walked out of the studio, Rhys was surrounded by a swarm of fans. I overheard something he said, followed by a boastful laugh. “Smooth sailing? Honey, I’ve been walking on water since my debut!” I couldn’t help but let out a small, quiet scoff. A group of shippers nearby heard me and immediately rushed over, full of concern. “Avery, did you and Rhys fight? You’re not really retiring over a stupid reality show, are you?” “Avery, I want to see you act again. We’ll miss you!” “Don’t worry!” Before I could speak, Rhys walked over and draped his arm possessively around my shoulder, pulling me close. “It’s all for the show. Avery and I are great.” The fans sighed in relief and pushed photos forward for signatures. As countless glossy prints were shoved toward me, one caught my eye: a duo shot from our first collaboration, Second Chance Skyline—my debut, and the film that launched his career. Back then, his star was too low, and no actress wanted to work with him, so I had to step in and finish the movie with him. It became the ultimate shippers’ artifact. Fans constantly brought this particular shot for us to sign. But this time, the space next to Rhys’s signature—where mine should have been—was instead scrawled with the name Willow Tate. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” Willow had materialized at my side. She pointed to the signed photo in my hand. “This is my fault! I was standing next to Rhys talking to fans, and I wasn’t paying attention to the photo they handed me. I accidentally signed it…” Looking at her pitiful, tearful expression, I smiled. “Going blind so young. How are you ever going to navigate this business?” My voice wasn’t soft. The area instantly went silent. Even the surrounding fan chatter died down. “Avery Stone, it’s just a photo. Willow has apologized. Do you really have to be so cruel?” Rhys’s expression hardened. He yanked me aside and glared at the cameras sweeping around us, his voice seething with anger. “I know you have connections, but do you want the whole internet to see you bullying a junior actress with your influence?” I curled my lips into a chilling smile. “Am I cruel and using my influence, or are you two morally bankrupt?” “You!” Sensing the situation escalating, the Director rushed in to disperse the fans. Rhys quickly pulled me further away. “Alright, honey, my attitude was bad. I just didn’t want you to be negatively edited.” “Willow and I are truly just friends. You have to trust me! I know losing the game upset you, but I already talked to the Director about letting you finish this episode before retiring. Can we please drop this?” I didn’t engage. I just stood there, looking at him with a frightening calmness. “Rhys, do you still remember the first thing the female lead in Second Chance Skyline said when she discovered the male lead was cheating?” 3 Rhys’s expression froze, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. “That was years ago. Who remembers old lines?” Just then, the Director’s voice called for the next scene, and Rhys, visibly relieved, headed straight for the recording area without looking back. Watching him leave, I picked up my phone and called Leo again. “Find out how many projects and endorsements Rhys has left. Cancel all of them.” “The penalty fees are my problem.” Just like the line in the movie: Work, dreams, career… I’m going to take away everything you ever built, one step at a time. For the second round, we were all taken to a massive Ferris wheel. The challenge required us to split into two-person and one-person groups through a compatibility quiz. The two-person team would enter a gondola and have to kiss when it reached the apex. The remaining person would be locked in an isolation booth and would have to find the escape key by monitoring the couple’s kissing-cam and solving clues. The rules instantly sent the comment section into a frenzy: [This round was made for Rhavery! The Kiss at the Apex! The production team is brilliant!] [OMG, we get to see Mom and Dad make out! It’s Christmas for the shippers tonight!] [Point the camera right at them! I want the HD close-up!] In a corner where no one was paying attention, Willow tugged at Rhys’s sleeve, her voice pitiful. “Rhys, please, can you go easy on the quiz? I… I’m terrified of the dark. I can’t go into the isolation booth alone.” Rhys didn’t answer, but I could already see the hesitation in his eyes. The compatibility quiz began. Unsurprisingly, Rhys failed every question about me—my least favorite food, my alma mater, even the name of the dog we co-adopted. He knew nothing. After the first round, the Director looked more upset than I did. This was clearly derailing his plan to milk our “model couple” status for ratings. There was nothing for it but to let Rhys and Willow try the compatibility round next. What happened next shocked everyone. From major things like her astrological sign and career goals to minor details like the song she listened to last night, Rhys knew everything about Willow. The chime for correct answers rang repeatedly, yet the atmosphere in the room turned subtly corrosive. [Wait a minute… This isn’t right. He knows absolutely nothing about his wife, but he knows everything about Willow? How?] [Did Willow cheat and leak the answers? Doesn’t she think this is too obvious if she’s just trying to steal attention?] [Avery has looked miserable all day. Are they really having marital issues…] [Stop the conspiracy theories! It’s probably the show’s script, using Rhavery for clicks!] The final score was a foregone conclusion. Rhys and Willow won by a landslide, securing their spot as the only two to enter the kissing gondola. “Honey, don’t take it to heart.” In front of the camera, Rhys leaned in and closed the distance between our lips with a calculated kiss. In the brief moment our mouths touched, he stroked my hair, his voice sickeningly gentle. “It’s just a game. Think of it as us filming a scene up there. Be understanding, okay?” [OMG, kissing in front of the camera! I’m dying!] [Who said Rhavery was falling apart? It’s just a reality show script! People who believe the rumors are losers for life!] [Worried his wife will get jealous, he kisses her before getting on the Ferris wheel with another woman! Ahhh, this is the most beautiful love story!] 4 “No.” My refusal hit the floor with an audible thud. Rhys froze in place, and Willow immediately scampered over. “Mrs. Stone, please don’t misunderstand!” She clasped her hands tightly, her eyes instantly welling up. “Rhys and I are really just completing a task. I know I don’t deserve to compete with you, but the rules are the rules. I have no choice…” Her tragically vulnerable expression was precisely captured by the cameras, and a wave of comments flooded the screen, condemning me: [It’s just a game. Does Avery Stone really need to be such a diva? Look how scared she’s made poor Willow!] [What do you mean, ‘diva’? Would you want your husband kissing a strange woman on a Ferris wheel?] [Why is the person making three thousand dollars a month defending the person making thirty million? They get paid to take this kind of crap!] [Exactly! Our Willow is so pretty, the movie star isn’t losing anything!] Rhys, watching the scrolling comments, finally spoke. “Avery, stop being dramatic. Everyone is watching.” He paused, his eyes softening slightly in a manipulative plea. “Have you forgotten? You have a fear of heights. You wouldn’t be comfortable going up there anyway. Isn’t it better for Willow to go in your place?” I looked at Rhys. “I haven’t forgotten.” He was the one who had forgotten. After the accident on the set of Second Chance Skyline, I was trapped in an elevator for ten hours. The doctor later confirmed the severe claustrophobia that I had lived with ever since. Afterward, Rhys had held me, his voice choked with tears, and promised, “I will never leave you alone in the dark again!” He had forgotten. The moment Rhys turned to leave with Willow, the coldness in my heart spread all the way to my fingertips. I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist, discarding the last shred of composure I was maintaining for the cameras. “Rhys, I can’t be alone down here. I…” “Avery Stone!” He lost all patience, raising his voice to cut me off. “You need to cut it out! This is work! Is your basic professionalism going to be ruined just because you’re being suspicious and insecure?” He swept his gaze around the area, his sharp eyes pinning me in place. “Kissing on set is part of an actor’s job! Everyone has to overcome difficulties to complete a shoot! Are you special? Are you too precious? Stop making a big deal out of nothing!” Rhys’s sudden shift in attitude shocked the production team. Dozens of eyes were now focused solely on him. I let go of his wrist. All the fear, the anger, and that last, ridiculous shred of hope—all of it sank into the icy darkness of my eyes with that one movement. Rhys seemed satisfied with my surrender. He signaled the Director. “Stick to the original plan. Willow and I are going up. Avery… she needs to cool off.” Willow followed closely behind him. As she passed me, the corner of her mouth lifted in a fleeting, but perfectly clear, smirk. I stood there, watching their backs as they headed toward the massive wheel. Then, I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a message to Leo: [Terminate all contracts with Rhys Maxwell. After this episode airs, I want him to vanish from the entertainment industry.]

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Chapter 1 My husband found himself a wealthy sugar mama and started secretly funneling money to me every few days. In six months, he transferred me a cool $850,000. I was seriously considering divorce. Then I thought about it. Screw that! Why even consider it? Every second I hesitate is an insult to cold, hard cash! A “family man” who brings home the bacon like this is harder to find than a parking spot in Manhattan. Why not let him hustle a little more? … Melanie slapped me across the face, hard. My cheek burned instantly. “Are you crazy?” I looked up at her, clutching my face, totally bewildered. “Chloe! You liar! Are you and your husband running a scam on me together?” Before I could process what was happening, my coworkers swarmed around us. “Who are you? Why did you just hit her?” She pointed a manicured finger at my nose and started screaming. “Your husband, Zack, used my credit card to transfer money to you. $850,000 in six months! Don’t act like you didn’t know!” I froze, then realized who she was. This was my husband’s side piece. The “Mistress.” She grabbed my collar, her eyes wild. “You two scumbags! $850,000! Do you think I’m an ATM? Using my money to clear your shopping cart?” With that one line, I became the center of attention. My coworkers immediately switched into gossip mode, phones out, recording everything. Melanie slapped me again, so hard I fell to the floor. She shouted to the crowd, “Look at this! This woman is a fraud! She and her husband are con artists!” She was screaming and trying to hit me again. My coworker, Lisa, stepped in. “That’s enough! We know Chloe. She wouldn’t do that! We’re calling the police!” “Call them! Go ahead!” Melanie laughed like a maniac. “I want to see how she explains this to the cops! Daring to spend my money… I’ll knock your teeth out or my name isn’t Melanie!” She was thrashing like an angry octopus, trying to claw at me. My coworkers held her back while she shrieked. I smoothed my messy hair and stood up from the floor. Calmly, coolly, I spoke. “Ma’am. You claim my husband and I are scamming you. But I don’t even know who you are. So please, tell me, how exactly did I scam you?” She glared at me, trembling with rage. “Don’t play dumb! You know exactly what my relationship is with your husband!” I gasped, covering my mouth in mock surprise. “What is your relationship?” Melanie blushed, looking around guiltily at the crowd. “It doesn’t matter what our relationship is! You stole my money, and today you’re going to pay me back!” I stared straight into her eyes. “Are you the mistress my husband has been keeping on the side?” Hearing that, she exploded and rushed at me. “Bullshit! He keeps me? He’s a broke driver! He has money to keep me? I’m the one keeping him!” The crowd gasped in unison. I didn’t panic. I just smiled faintly. “So, you admit you’re having an affair with my husband?” She choked for a second but doubled down. “So what if I am! Zack, that dog, spends my money, drives my car, and even uses my money to support his wife!” Satisfied, I pulled out my phone. “I’ve recorded everything. I’ve also called the police for assault. My coworkers are witnesses.” “See you at the station.” Hearing I was going to sue her, Melanie went berserk and raised her hand to hit me again. Chapter 2 The police arrived just in time, and we were all hauled into squad cars. At the station, before we even sat down, she started making a scene. She claimed she was swindled out of money and love. She pulled out chat logs and transfer records with my husband, Zack, trying to prove we were in cahoots. “Officer, look. I buy him houses, I buy him cars, and he gives all the money to this woman! How could he do this to me?” Tears streamed down her face. She was genuinely heartbroken over Zack’s betrayal. But the officers just stared at her blankly. They looked at her like she was an idiot. She claimed Zack and I scammed her. But the evidence she provided proved she was having an affair with Zack. And she knew he was married. A homewrecker knowingly wrecking a home, and then coming to harass the wife? Mistresses these days are bold. The officer deadpanned, “We don’t handle relationship disputes.” She jumped up, frantic. “His husband is using my money to support her! Isn’t that illegal?” Just as she was about to throw a tantrum, Zack arrived. The moment Melanie saw him, she lunged and started pummeling him. “Zack! You bastard! You lied to me!” She started sobbing hysterically. The station was in chaos. The police finally pulled them apart. Zack, face scratched up by Melanie’s nails, snapped at her. “Melanie, are you insane?” “You call me insane? Did a dog eat your conscience? I treated you so well, and you went behind my back and gave all my money to this woman!” Zack didn’t even blink. “Stop screaming! She’s my wife. If I don’t give the money to her, who should I give it to?” I watched from the side, jaw on the floor. That was a new one. He saw me standing there and immediately rushed over, fawning. “Babe, are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Seeing the mark on my face, his distress was palpable. He turned and roared at Melanie. “Melanie! Look what you did! I told you! Don’t bother my wife! And you still came here!” Melanie lost it. “Zack! How can you treat me like this? Are you even a man?” “Yesterday you were holding me, telling me you loved me, that you wanted to marry me. If I hadn’t found out you were transferring my money to your wife… you bastard, were you planning to empty my bank account?” “You believed me when I said I loved you?” Melanie wept, heartbroken. “You said you had no feelings for your wife! You said she was a nag, not understanding like me!” “You said she was boring in bed! Just lying there like a dead fish! Not like me… passionate, skilled…” “Shut up!” Zack turned beet red and shouted. “Have some shame!” “I’ll tell you the truth. I don’t love you at all! I was with you to get some cash!” “You were the stupid one throwing yourself at me!” “I only love my wife. Stop making a scene!” He grabbed my hand and tried to drag me out, leaving Melanie standing there in shock. Chapter 3 The moment we got home, before even taking off his shoes, Zack dropped to his knees on the living room tiles. Thud. “Honey, I was wrong. Truly.” I stood in the kitchen pouring water, ignoring him. “I’m scum. I shouldn’t have let you suffer like this. I was confused, blinded by her money. I didn’t want her body or her face. She chased me! She tempted me with money…” He was crying now, begging. I didn’t know how to react. He cheated on me. But he also funneled every cent of the mistress’s money back to me. “So, should I give you a ‘Best Husband’ award?” His face went pale. “It was an impulse. A mistake any man could make…” The bedroom door opened. My in-laws rushed out. “You idiot!” My mother-in-law smacked the back of his head. “You have a good home, and you go out and mess around?” They didn’t know the details, but seeing Zack kneeling meant he screwed up big time. Zack’s career had been stagnant for years. I carried this family. They didn’t dare cross me. After a lecture from his parents, Zack spilled the beans. A year ago, Zack got a job driving for a rich guy. In the last six months, he transferred me a total of $180,000 (part of the larger sum Melanie claimed). I asked where it came from. He said his boss liked him and gave him stock tips. Turns out, he was being a sugar baby. Melanie was a sugar baby for a rich old man, and she turned around and became a sugar mama for Zack. My in-laws were furious. My mother-in-law cried, “You useless thing! Earning dirty money like that!” Zack hung his head, face red. “I know I messed up. But I was just greedy. I never thought about divorce. I don’t have feelings for that woman!” “No feelings, but you slept with her? Couldn’t control your zipper?” My mother-in-law raised her hand to hit him again. Zack covered his head, making excuses. “She forced it… she said I was good in bed… she said her old sugar daddies were useless, keeping her like a bird in a cage! She was lonely! She threatened suicide if I didn’t stay…” I laughed coldly. “Wow, you’re popular.” He crawled over and grabbed my pant leg. “Chloe, I swear. I never wanted to leave you. I saw she had money. I’m useless, I can’t earn much. You work so hard to support us. I just wanted to help you…” Right. So I really should give him an award. Selling his body to feed his wife. Kissing me by day, servicing a sugar mama by night. A martyr of capitalism. “Okay,” I looked down at him. “So tell me. She’s suing us for fraud. She wants the money back. What do we do?” Zack stiffened his neck. “Who cares! She gave it willingly! I earned that money! Why give it back?” I told him to get up, but he hugged my leg tighter. “Honey, if you don’t forgive me, I won’t get up. What do I have to do?” I lowered my voice. “I can forgive you. Unless…” Chapter 4 I knew something was up six months ago when Zack sent the first transfer. He said his boss gave him a stock tip that made $15,000. I believe in bird sh*t falling from the sky, not free money. I thought he was doing something illegal. I was anxious for days. Then I checked his phone while he slept. I found the texts with Melanie. I have to admit, Zack provides excellent emotional value. That’s why I married him. He’s attentive. With Melanie, he was a master. He had her hooked in three sentences, sending him money and kissy emojis. The funny part was, Zack immediately transferred the money to me. My first instinct was divorce. My best friend, Sarah, called me an idiot. I argued, but she rolled her eyes and asked: “That necklace you’re wearing. How much?” I paused. “$4,000.” “The bracelet?” “$800.” “The bag?” My mouth twitched. I couldn’t help but smile. She grinned back. “Get it now?” My gloom vanished. “Look at you. Decked out in designer gear in just a few months.” I drank my juice, praising Sarah’s wisdom. “You’re not doing bad either!” Sarah stared at me. “Think of it as putting Zack’s ‘idle asset’ to work. Creating revenue for the household. It’s brilliant!” I nodded. “Makes sense.” She laughed wickedly. “If it were me, I’d serve that mistress so well she’d be begging to send more money.” I raised my glass. “To you. For waking me up.” “What else do you need?” She asked, eyes gleaming. I pretended to think. “I need a car. An Audi A6.” … A month later, money for an Audi A6 hit my account. I pretended not to know the source, happily accepting it and moving it to a separate account. I made Zack soup, rewarding him for his “hard work.” Zack drank the soup, moved to tears. He was used to chasing me. When I was nice, he melted. “Honey, you’re so good to me,” he sniffled. I smiled. Not as hard as you work, taking the night shift. When I told him my plan—fake divorce so he could go back for one last score—Zack cried. He hugged me, sobbing. “Honey, you still haven’t forgiven me! I was wrong… I won’t do it again…” I pushed him away, fighting the nausea. “I don’t blame you. Really!” He swallowed hard. “Are you serious?” “Of course.” I handed him a slice of apple. “We get a fake divorce. You go coax her, make up, and keep the money flowing.” He stared for a few seconds. “You… aren’t afraid I’ll actually run off?” I laughed. “Would you?” He shook his head violently. “Never. I’ll never leave you.” I leaned back on the sofa. “Melanie is a gold mine. A walking wallet. We need to think about the future. Do you think $850,000 is enough? Is it enough to raise a kid for ten years? No.” He was silent, eyes red. “Zack, I’m planning for us. For our family. The opportunity is right there. It’s up to you.”

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Chapter 1 “Honey, eat a little more.” This was the sixth time my parents had served me rice today. In a tiny bowl, sure, but I’d already demolished five of them. I waved my hand. “No more. I’ve lost my appetite.” My parents exchanged glances, and then my mom started tearing up. “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick? You ate so little today… has Mom’s cooking gotten worse?” My glamorous mother threw herself into my dashing father’s arms, both of them sobbing like it was the end of the world. Seeing Mom so heartbroken, I didn’t dare mention dieting. I maneuvered my electric wheelchair and practically fled the scene. “I’m fine, Mom! Just going to the bathroom!” “Don’t clear the table, I’ll eat more later!” I’m Penny. Thanks to overindulgent parents and hormonal issues, I’ve managed to become a 330-pound girl who’s the butt of everyone’s jokes. Ten minutes ago, I got some bad news. The class beauty from high school, Chloe, got into the same college as me. Same major, too. She found the school hunk’s contact info on the campus network, pretended to be me to start an online relationship with him, and agreed to meet him when school starts. She threatened me, saying if I didn’t show up, I’d regret it. She’d print out my “beautiful” photos and hand them out to everyone. I was terrified. I didn’t want my college life to start with me being a laughingstock again. Just then, a metallic voice rang in my head. “Host Penny detected. Weight: 340 lbs. Meets criteria for the Fat Exchange System. Bind?” Chapter 2 I blinked. What? A panel appeared in front of me, filled with bizarre items. The only commonality was that they all required exchanging fat. After reading through it, I gasped. I knew I was the chosen one! 1kg of fat could be exchanged for $1,500. Daily limit: 10kg. I didn’t believe it. I had to try. Hehehe! Let’s try exchanging 5kg first. “Congratulations, exchange successful. Current weight: 330 lbs.” Simultaneously, a pleasant notification sound came from my phone. “Venmo received: $7,500.” I scrutinized my face in the mirror for a long time but gave up. I didn’t see any difference. But the $7,500 in my Venmo was definitely real. I opened the charity app I often donated to and impulsively donated all $7,500 to a project supporting underprivileged girls. Only when the screen displayed “Thank you for your donation” did it feel somewhat real. I couldn’t help but hug my phone in ecstasy! Thank you, Universe! I love you! Mwah! Chapter 3 Just as I was celebrating, a text from Chloe came through. “Piggy, you’re about to meet your hubby online. Remember to wash yourself clean.” “I don’t know how you have the courage to live being so fat. If I were you, I’d just die.” “Pig, friendly reminder, there are nine days left until college starts.” “See you at college.” My mood plummeted instantly. My beef with Chloe goes way back. At the start of freshman year in high school, I accidentally knocked Chloe’s pencil case off her desk. The boy behind us mocked Chloe, saying her stuff was rooted by a pig. Chloe burst into tears. Instead of getting mad at the boy, she turned her anger on me. From then on, she led the charge in bullying me, making my life miserable. I finally got into college, thinking I could escape all this, but fate had other plans. We ended up at the same university again. Was history about to repeat itself? Chapter 4 The system reminded me: “Host, you can exchange 10kg of fat daily. Anything on Earth can be exchanged.” I tested it: “I want an aircraft carrier?” System: “…F*ck.” Realizing its lack of manners, the system quickly changed its tone, trying to guide me. “Why don’t you watch some live streams and tip those handsome male models? It provides great emotional value and will improve your mood.” I shook my head. “Men.” What’s the difference between throwing money at men and throwing it into the water? I’d rather donate to charity. Men, not even worth a… Look! I’m looking at men! I opened TikTok, and the first thing I saw was my former high school classmate. Peyton. I used to have a crush on him. The reason was shallow: when Chloe bullied me, only he spoke up for me. “We’re all classmates, don’t go too far.” But later, Chloe tore a page from my diary and slipped it into his textbook. He was the one who called it disgusting. “Welcome ‘I Want to Lose 200 Pounds’ to the stream.” “Interesting ID. Welcome, miss.” His warm voice was pleasant. He wasn’t like this at school. It was always, “Fat pig, get lost,” followed by roaring laughter from everyone. He posted my diary page on the school bulletin board. No matter how I explained it wasn’t me, everyone just laughed at my delusional crush. Maybe some believed me, but that didn’t stop them from mocking me… I snapped out of my memories. The stream already had nearly five thousand viewers. Chapter 5 Peyton was in a PK battle with a middle-aged man in clown makeup who looked a bit chubby. The opponent had only fifty viewers. “PrettyLady” sent a combo of “Love Blast” x10. Pink bubbles filled the screen. Peyton smirked. “Thanks, Chloe.” I wasn’t stupid; I knew this was Chloe’s alt account. Peyton used his nice voice to say nasty things. “Uncle, I won’t bully you. If you lose, just drink iced tea.” The comments were full of “Hahahaha,” confusing me. What kind of punishment was that? Just as I was puzzled, someone in the comments explained. “Making him write ‘pee’ on the iced tea bottle. It’s basically public humiliation.” I frowned. So insulting. Peyton had over five thousand viewers; the uncle had fifty. There was no way the uncle could win. But the uncle gritted his teeth and accepted the bet. “I agree, but if I win, can you ask your viewers to follow me?” Peyton scoffed. “Uncle, what do you need followers for?” The uncle said earnestly, “I want to get sponsors. I need a thousand followers to get sponsors.” “Hahahaha.” Laughter filled the screen again. Curiosity drove me to click on his stream. Traffic was dismal, the background was simple, and his clown makeup was running with sweat, making him look truly pathetic. Just as I was about to close it, I heard the system tut. “This guy is pitiful.” Me: “Huh? What’s wrong?” Just a guy chasing clout, right? The system explained: “His daughter has leukemia. He’s clowning around because he has no money. Otherwise, who at his age would want to be a laughingstock?” Peyton’s stream was still laughing… I felt a surge of inexplicable anger. I heard myself say something very chuunibyou to the system: Today, I’m staying here. I’m going to make this uncle win. Chapter 6 Peyton’s fans wouldn’t let up on the uncle. They kept belittling him to boost Peyton. After “PrettyLady” dropped a Castle gift, the comments exploded like fireworks. The mockery intensified: “Uncle’s wrinkles could trap flies.” “So old and still battling a handsome guy? Anything for money? Bet his butt is saggy too. Hahaha.” My fingers hovered over the keyboard, chest tight. This collective malice was snowballing, and Peyton turned a blind eye. The uncle also ignored it, smiling obsequiously, as if he’d do anything for traffic. I took a deep breath and typed: “Do you know his daughter has leukemia? He’s not begging based on his daughter’s illness; he’s earning it himself. What’s wrong with that?” The comments paused for a second, then erupted with even fiercer attacks, including me this time. “Here we go again, classic leukemia scam.” “Are these two in cahoots?” “Scammers work in teams now?” “Proof? Show medical records! Show the GoFundMe!” “Even if it’s true, fundraising in an entertainment PK? Sick in the head.” I couldn’t take it anymore: “Donate. Isn’t this a PK? Whoever loses is the other’s grandson today.”

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On the day my fiancé got engaged to the “real” daughter, I thought about driving my car straight into the ceremony. I wanted to end it all, take them with me in a blaze of glory. But just as that manic thought consumed me, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Miss Quinn, you’re pregnant…” I killed the engine and sat there, frozen. Thirty minutes later, as joyous music drifted from the engagement hall, I started the car, made a U-turn, and headed for the airport. From that moment on, the “fake” daughter of the Quinn family disappeared from New York, just as everyone wanted. I moved to a small southern town a thousand miles away. I barely survived a disaster, gave birth to my daughter—my own flesh and blood—and cut all ties with my past. Until four years later, when they started showing up, one by one. 1 The first time I saw Silas again after four years was at the kindergarten gate. I had just picked up my daughter, Lily, when another mom nudged me. “Hey, Lily’s mom, look across the street. That guy looks like that famous singer… what’s his name again?” I followed her gaze and saw him. “Silas!” The mom slapped her forehead. “Right, Silas! The singer-songwriter who’s been sweeping all the awards lately! “You know, honestly, he kind of looks like you. Both of you have those good genes…” I looked away. “Never heard of him.” She looked surprised. “You don’t listen to music? That’s Silas! And really, looking closely, you two could be siblings…” I smiled, shook my head, and held Lily’s hand tighter as we walked away. “Sarah.” His voice came from behind me. I ignored it and kept walking. “Sarah Quinn!” Lily looked up. “Mommy, is that man calling you? Why did he call you Sarah Quinn?” I smiled down at her. “He mistook me for someone else, sweetie.” But as I reached for my car door in the parking lot, someone grabbed my arm. I turned around. It was Silas, out of breath. “Sarah… you’re actually alive?!” His words were as sharp and stinging as ever. But maybe because he had been running, the rims of his eyes were slightly red. 2 I dropped Lily off at a neighbor’s house. When I came back downstairs, Silas was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Why do you live in a dump like this? Where’s your apartment? I want to see it.” I shook my head. “No need.” Four years ago, he told me his only sister was Sophie. He told me that being called “brother” by someone like me made him sick. When my adoptive brother, Ethan Quinn, kicked me out, and my fiancé, Lucas, abandoned me, I had nowhere to go. I thought of Silas, my biological brother. I stood outside his agency all night in a snowstorm, freezing to the bone. But all I got was him saying his biggest wish was that I had never been born. “If you weren’t born, Sophie wouldn’t have been switched at birth. She wouldn’t have suffered so much. “Sister? Don’t make me laugh. The Quinns threw you out, so now you’re playing the blood-relation card? “I’ll never acknowledge someone like you as my sister.” That was when I realized: no matter how good I was to him, he would always hate me because of Sophie. Now, he looked at me with that same scrutinizing gaze. “Is that kid Lucas’s? Did you run away just to have his baby?” I was silent for a moment. “She’s my child. Mine alone.” He scoffed. “Sarah, she looks exactly like him. Do you think I’m blind? “Did you think having a secret baby would win him back? You’re delusional… “It’s pathetic. Truly stupid…” “I said, she is my child,” I interrupted. “I never planned on going back to New York. I never planned on using her to fight Sophie for Lucas. You can relax. You don’t need to be so aggressive. “Like you said years ago, other than blood, we’re strangers. I’m not interested in your life, so please stay out of mine.” He froze. “If there’s nothing else, you should leave.” I turned to go. “Wait.” He grabbed my arm again. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You… you…” I frowned. “What?” “Why did you leave back then?” I looked at him calmly. “You were a spoiled princess who couldn’t do anything. Just because people said a few mean things, you played the runaway victim? “If I hadn’t seen you today, how long were you planning to live in this poverty? And these past four years…” He paused. “How… how did you survive?” 3 I looked at his red-rimmed eyes. He was probably angry. Surprised I was alive. Because my existence was a threat to Sophie’s happiness. How did I survive? Someone traded their life for mine. But I didn’t need to tell him that. The old Sarah Quinn was a delicate flower, helpless without support. The new Sarah Song doesn’t cry or beg anyone for anything. Seeing my silence, he got agitated. “Why are you so slow now? Did that big earthquake down here a few years ago shake your brain loose? “Running to a godforsaken place like this… you deserved to get caught in an earthquake.” Just then, a neighbor walked by. “Hey, Sarah! Haven’t started dinner yet?” I smiled. “Just about to.” Silas stared. “You should go,” I said. But he wouldn’t let go. “Why did you change your name? Sarah Song? Did you get married? Who’s Song?” “It’s none of your business,” I said, prying his fingers off my arm, one by one. “My name, my life… Silas, it has nothing to do with you.” 4 Silas was a celebrity. He couldn’t be seen making a scene in public. I went upstairs, picked up Lily, and watched from the window as he stood downstairs, looking lost. He never cared about me before. His confusion now was probably just because he wasn’t used to my coldness. Four years ago, when I found out about his musical dreams, I used every connection I had in New York to get him a stage. I got him into the best agency. He was my brother. He had suffered growing up poor. I wanted him to succeed. But he twisted my kindness, claiming I was just trying to isolate Sophie and make her feel bad. “Mommy, is that man your family?” I paused, then smiled and stroked Lily’s hair. “No, honey. Why would you think that?” “Just guessing. You look alike.” Family. Ethan Quinn’s face flashed in my mind. I always thought Ethan would be my brother forever, blood or no blood. But four years ago, he held Sophie—who had “fallen” down the stairs—and looked at me with pure rage. “Sarah, you are a disappointment. “From today on, you are not a Quinn. You are not my sister. “My only sister is Sophie.” I cried, I begged, I swore I didn’t push her. But he kicked me away and carried Sophie out without looking back. I shook my head. “That man is not Mommy’s family.” She looked disappointed. “I thought maybe I had other family besides Uncle Sam.” I tapped her nose. “Mommy has you, and we have Uncle Sam in our hearts. That’s enough.” “But Uncle Sam is gone…” She pouted. “I miss him.” I understood. But disappointment is better than the pain of being loved and then discarded. I’ve been through it. I won’t let my daughter go through it. I just didn’t expect to see Ethan the very next day.

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After rocking the world of the Julian Thorne—heir to the Thorne empire—for one wild, unforgettable night, the System gave me a notification: Time to skedaddle. His “destined” Female Lead was coming online. I fled the hospital that very night, but I didn’t leave empty-handed. I stole something of his. Four years later. My daughter got into a fight at kindergarten. The teacher called both parents. I rushed over, only to find a terrifyingly familiar man crouching in front of my child, begging for an answer. “Tell me, little one… what is your mommy’s name?” 1 “Hailey!” The man froze. “What? Not Harper?” The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Mister, you might be handsome, but you can’t just go around changing my mommy’s name.” “Impossible… absolutely impossible…” The man, usually so composed and commanding, shook his head in disbelief. He dropped to one knee, reaching out as if to hug this miniature version of himself. But when the girl stepped back in fear, his hand dropped to his side, defeated. “Little one, how old are you?” She pouted. “Mommy said I can’t talk to strangers.” “Strangers…” The man sucked in a sharp breath, the blood draining from his handsome face. The teacher standing nearby was totally lost. Here’s the tea: during playtime this afternoon, the best-behaved girl in class got into a brawl with the class bully. The bully, despite his size, got absolutely wrecked by my little girl. The bully’s dad? The CEO of Thorne Corp. Rumor had it Julian Thorne spoiled his wife and son rotten. The Thorne family treated that boy like a golden egg. Meanwhile, my daughter comes from a single-parent home. Just me and her against the world. We were supposed to be toast. Sure enough, Julian Thorne stormed in with an entourage. But when he realized the other parent was late, just as he was about to explode, he caught a glimpse of the little girl standing in time-out. His face changed instantly. He ignored his own son—who was stomping his feet and crying “Dad! Daddy! Dad!”—and started grilling my daughter. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was the one who got called in for her. 2 I was hiding outside the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a drum solo. I couldn’t go in, couldn’t run away. [System! We have a Code Red! Where are you? You said we wouldn’t cross paths again!] My palms were sweating against the door handle. I watched through the crack. My daughter was still in there. I had to go in. Even though the System had tweaked my appearance a bit, if Julian recognized me, the game was over. He’d find out about Lily. Would he try to take her from me? While I was hesitating, a cheerful voice piped up behind me. “Lily’s mom? Why are you standing out here?” “Don’t worry, we’re just here to resolve a little conflict.” A teacher I recognized reached past me and threw the door open. 3 I stumbled into the office under the gaze of everyone in the room. My daughter stood ramrod straight, her little face tense with stubbornness. But the second she saw me, the tears fell. She threw herself into my arms. “Mommy!” Her tears soaked my shirt. My heart shattered. I held her tight. She was such a tough cookie. She’d held it together all this time, refusing to cry in front of them. But seeing me broke the dam. I patted her back gently, whispering comforts while fishing a couple of gummy bears out of my pocket. A sharp, predatory gaze had locked onto me the moment I entered. Now, it felt like a physical weight on my shoulder. Suffocating. I didn’t look at the man. I turned to the teacher. “He started it!” the bully yelled. “We were playing House. I wanted to be the Daddy, but she said she didn’t need one! She said her house is fine with just a Mommy!” “How can she not need a Daddy? She didn’t pop out of a rock!” My voice went cold. “And? What else?” I didn’t believe my daughter would throw hands over just that. She’s heard “no dad” taunts before. If she hit people every time she heard that, she’d be a UFC champion by now. The bully went quiet, glancing at his father. Julian stood there, eyes icy. “What else did you say?” he asked his son. “I said… everyone has a dad. My mommy said only bad kids get thrown away by their dads.” The room went silent. Kids can be so cruel in their innocence. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to punt a child across the room. I turned my daughter around and checked her for injuries. Then I walked up to the bully. “Did you scratch her neck?” The kid was spoiled, but faced with an angry adult, he panicked. He tugged his dad’s pant leg. No reaction. Tears welled up. I ignored his father completely. “Apologize to Lily. Now.” The bully glared at me. “No!” He shoved me and tried to run. I grabbed him by the collar, lifting him like a chicken. “Your dad won’t teach you?” I glanced at the gloomy man beside me. “Fine. I will.” The teacher looked ready to intervene, but Julian stopped her with a look. Teacher: ??? “Let me go! Do you know who my mom is?!” The brat kicked his legs. “I don’t care who your mom is. Apologize, or we stay here all night.” Suddenly, a flash of pink rushed into my vision. The weight in my hand vanished. Slap! A stinging pain exploded across my cheek. A petite, well-dressed woman snatched the boy, hugged him, and screamed at the teacher. “You were just going to watch this crazy woman assault my son? I’m suing this school!” She glared at me, then tugged Julian’s sleeve. “Hubby, call the police!” My face burned. I felt a trickle of blood—her diamond nail art had cut me. Lily saw the blood and started wailing, hugging my leg. “Mommy, I’m sorry! I apologize! I’m sorry!” My heart twisted. I looked at the family of three opposite me. I’d never met her, but I knew exactly who she was. Gemma. The Female Lead. 4 In the car. Silence. I took Lily to McDonald’s. She just sat there, picking at the placemat. Her silence hurt more than the scratch on my face. The principal had stepped in to de-escalate things. Gemma left threatening to sue everyone. Julian just stared at Lily. I shielded her from his gaze. For four years, I raised her alone, surviving on the System’s mission rewards. I never figured out how to explain the “missing father” part. Today, it blew up in my face. I thought about the bully—Jett. Strong, loud, fearless. A kid raised in a honey pot. And he was the same age as Lily… So, I left, and the Female Lead stepped right in. She conquered the heart I spent three years trying to warm up. Did he fall for her at first sight, too? “Mommy…” A soft voice broke my trance. A strawberry shake was pushed toward me. “Mommy, you drink it.” Lily’s eyes were red, her face stubborn but cute. “I thought you wanted this?” I asked. I usually limited her sugar, so this was a rare treat. “I want Mommy to be happy.” She muttered, “I was wrong today.” “What did you do wrong?” “I didn’t beat Jett fast enough.” She clenched a tiny fist. “Next time, I won’t lose!” I laughed through my tears and ruffled her hair. “Mommy was wrong too. I shouldn’t have asked for an apology. I should have just spanked him!” The image of Jett flying through the air made Lily giggle. We shared a Happy Meal and planned our next playground strategy. We didn’t notice the luxury car parked across the street. Or that it followed us all the way home.

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Right before I died, I looked my wicked stepmother in the eye and gasped, “Grandpa left me a hundred million dollars… the money is hidden… it’s hidden in…” I didn’t get to finish. I flatlined. My stepmother, tears streaming down her fake face, screamed at the doctor, “You heard her! Bring her back and I’ll give you half!” The doctor raised his hands dramatically. “By the power of Thor, I banish the darkness!” Zap. Literal lightning struck down, turning my gorgeous body into a piece of charcoal. I stood next to the bed in spirit form, smiling beatifically. Thank you. Seriously. 1 I knew about my stepmother’s plan to kill me and stage it as a suicide ages ago. Don’t ask how. Let’s just say I have a gift. My soul can detach from my body at will. As long as my physical shell remains intact, I can hop back in within two hours. So when I found out she hired a hitman, I was thrilled. I was sick of playing nice with that snake. I figured I’d pull a Houdini—let her think she succeeded, then sneak off abroad with my inheritance. My dad could rest easy in his grave knowing we weren’t fighting anymore. But… what the hell is this doctor doing? Did he just barbecue me? “By the power of Thor”? Who does he think he is, an Avenger? My stepmom was so shocked she forgot to fake-cry. Her jaw hit the floor. “It… it’s burnt?” The doctor scratched his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry about that. Just learned that spell. Haven’t quite mastered it. I got a little excited when you mentioned fifty million.” Wow. This guy has a way with words. I hovered over him, hands around his spectral neck, screaming, “You quack! Die!” 2 Watching my beautiful, curvy body turn into a briquette was heartbreaking. But what’s done is done. I needed a new ride. Ideally, someone who just died. Freshly deceased. If I jump in fast enough, I can reboot the system. Where do you find fresh bodies? The hospital, obviously. I floated into an operating room. It was a bloody mess. C-section gone wrong. I heard the doctors say she was hemorrhaging and fading fast. I was grinning at the opportunity until a mournful gaze pinned me in place. The woman, a weeping beauty, stared right at me. “I didn’t think anyone would smile at my death.” Me: “It’s not personal.” She blinked. “You can see me?” “Yeah, we’re both dead. Well, you’re dead-dead. I’m just shopping for a rental.” She was shocked. “Are you… gifted?” “Sure. Look, lend me your body. I promise I’ll take care of it. I’ll do yoga and everything.” She hesitated, but the frantic voices of the doctors pushed her. “Patient has flatlined! The baby isn’t out yet!” “Get the baby out! Prepare the defibrillator!” The woman practically knelt before my spirit. “Okay. Take it. Just save my baby. Please.” The nurse shouted, “We have a pulse!” I dove into the body. Pain—searing, blinding pain—hit me instantly. I screamed and rolled right back out. “Patient flatlined again!” The woman looked panicked. She grabbed my spirit and shoved me back toward her corpse. “Pulse is back!” I howled. “It hurts! It hurts so bad!” 3 Childbirth is a scam. It hurts like hell. Never doing this again. I asked the woman’s spirit, “No anesthesia?” “The doctor didn’t give me any.” Excuse me? “I don’t know why. He just said no.” This sounded familiar. It reminded me of a trashy web novel I read. The female lead needed surgery, but the CEO’s “White Moonlight”—his first love—bribed the doctor to withhold anesthesia. The female lead died of pain. I sweated through my new skin. “Wait. Is your name Wendy?” She widened her innocent doe eyes. “How did you know?” “Just a lucky guess.” I remembered crying my eyes out reading that book. The author had the nerve to resurrect the heroine later so she could end up with the scumbag CEO. I spent weeks DM-ing the author, thanking her ancestors for the trauma. Wendy tugged at my spectral sleeve. “Please. Help me. I don’t want my baby to grow up without a mom.” I didn’t want to deal with this mess, but honestly? I didn’t have a choice. 4 The moment Wendy died, the Reapers showed up. Mist filled the room. Two figures emerged—one tall and thin, one short and stout. Hats on their heads. “Get Rich” written on one, “Peace on Earth” on the other. I sat up in the spirit realm (while technically occupying the body) and waved. “Hey, boys. Long time no see.” The White Reaper froze. He glared. “Quinn? You died again?” “Hey, accidents happen. Look, I’m borrowing Wendy’s body. You guys can take her soul, but leave the vessel.” The Black Reaper growled. “Quinn, go find your own body. This one still has fate attached to it…” The White Reaper nudged him, cutting him off. “Fine. Take it. But you have to resolve Wendy’s regrets.” What regrets? A scumbag ex and a baby. I nodded vigorously. “Got it. Trust me, I won’t let her get back together with that trash bag. I’ll ruin him.” The White Reaper sighed. “No! I mean, you have to follow her destiny…” “Haha, no way.” “Then no deal.” I blew on my ghostly nails. “Think about it. If I follow her destiny, I have to date that scumbag, marry him, sleep with him… if The Boss finds out…” I gave them a knowing look. The Reapers shut up. They knew I meant business. Wendy was tugging my sleeve again. “My baby… save my baby.” “See? She wants me to save the kid.” The White Reaper looked pale. “Quinn!” “Tell your Boss I said hi.” “Quinn…” “Bye!” I waved them off. “I’ll raise the kid. I’ll crush the mistress. I’ll grind the scumbag into dust. Trust me. Ciao.”

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My husband found himself a wealthy mistress. Every few days, he’d secretly transfer money to my account. In just six months, he sent me a cool $618,000. I was considering divorcing him. But then I thought about it. Screw that! Divorce? Every second spent thinking about leaving him was an insult to the money. Where else would I find such a “family-oriented” husband who hustles so hard for our bank account? I should let him rake in a little more, right? 1 Sierra slapped me so hard my face burned instantly. “Are you crazy?” I looked up at her, clutching my cheek, totally bewildered. “Chloe! You liar! Are you and your husband running a scam on me?!” Before I could react, my coworkers swarmed around us. “Who are you? Why did you hit her?” She pointed a finger right at my nose and started screaming. “Your husband, Chase, used my credit card to transfer money to you! Six hundred and eighteen thousand dollars in six months! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” I froze for a second, then it clicked. Ah. This must be Chase’s sugar mama. The “Side Piece.” She grabbed my collar, her face twisted in rage. “You dirty couple! Six hundred grand! Did you think I was an ATM just to clear your shopping cart?” With that one sentence, I became the center of attention. Every phone in the office was out, cameras flashing. Sierra raised her hand and slapped me again, knocking me to the floor. She shouted to everyone, “Look at her! This woman is a fraud! She and her husband are scammers!” She cursed and tried to hit me again. My coworker, Lisa, stepped in. “That’s enough! We know Chloe. Stop or we’re calling the cops!” “Call them! Do it!” She laughed like a maniac. “I want to see how she explains this to the police! Spending my money? I’m going to beat you until you’re toothless, or my name isn’t Sierra Vance!” She was thrashing like an angry octopus, trying to tear me apart. My colleagues held her back while she screamed. I smoothed my messy hair and stood up. Calm. Unbothered. “Ma’am. You keep saying my husband and I scammed you. I don’t even know who you are. How exactly did I scam you?” She glared at me, trembling. “Don’t play dumb! I don’t believe you don’t know who I am!” I gasped, covering my mouth in mock surprise. “Wait… what is your relationship with him?” Sierra blushed, glancing around nervously. “It doesn’t matter! You stole my money, and you’re going to pay it back!” I stared straight into her eyes. “Are you… my husband’s mistress?” That set her off. She lunged. “Bullshit! He’s keeping me? He’s a broke driver! He couldn’t afford me! I was keeping him…” The office gasped in collective shock. I smiled faintly. “So, you admit you had an affair with my husband?” She choked but doubled down. “So what?! Chase is a dog! He spent my money, drove my car, and used my cash to support his wife!” I pulled out my phone, satisfied. “I recorded that. And I’ve called the police for assault. My colleagues are witnesses.” “See you at the precinct.” Hearing I was pressing charges, Sierra lost it completely and tried to swing at me again. 2 The police arrived just in time. We were hauled off to the station. The moment we sat down, she started wailing. She claimed fraud, emotional damage, the works. She pulled out chat logs and transfer records with Chase as proof. “Officer, look! I bought him a house, a car! And he gave all the money to this woman! How could he do this to me?” Tears streamed down her face. She was genuinely heartbroken by Chase’s betrayal. But the cops just stared at her. Like she was an idiot. She claimed fraud, but her own evidence proved she was having an affair. She knew he was married. A homewrecker coming after the wife? The audacity was impressive. “Civil disputes aren’t our jurisdiction,” the officer said dryly. She jumped up. “He used my money to feed his wife! There has to be a law against that!” Just as she was about to throw a tantrum, Chase arrived. Sierra flew at him, pummeling his chest. “Chase, you bastard! You played me!” She collapsed into sobbing hysterics. The police pried them apart. Chase, face scratched and bleeding, glared at her. “Sierra, are you out of your mind?” “You call me crazy?! Where is your conscience? I treated you like a king, and you gave everything to her behind my back!” Chase didn’t even blink. “Stop screaming! She’s my wife! Who else am I supposed to spend money on?” I watched from the side, jaw on the floor. Well. That was a new one. He saw me then, and his face transformed into pure concern. He rushed over. “Babe, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Seeing the bruise on my face, he turned on Sierra, furious. “Look what you did! I told you to leave my wife alone!” Sierra snapped. “Chase! How can you do this? Are you even a man?” “Yesterday you held me and said you loved me! You said you wanted to marry me! If I hadn’t seen the transfers, you would have emptied my accounts, wouldn’t you?!” “I said I loved you and you believed it?” Sierra wept, broken. “You said you had no feelings for your wife! You said she was a nag! You said she was a dead fish in bed! You said I was exciting…” “Shut up!” Chase turned beet red. “Have some shame!” “I’m telling you the truth now. I never loved you! I was just with you for the money!” “You were stupid enough to throw yourself at me!” “I only love my wife. Get that through your head!” He grabbed my hand and dragged me out, leaving Sierra standing there in the wreckage of her delusion. 3 The moment we got home, Chase dropped to his knees on the living room tiles. “Chloe, I messed up.” I ignored him, pouring myself a glass of water. “I’m scum. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt. I was blinded by greed. I don’t care about her money or her looks… she just… she threw money at me…” He was crying now, begging. It was confusing. Did he love me? He cheated. Did he hate me? He hustled over half a million dollars from his mistress and gave it all to me. “So, what? Should I give you a ‘Husband of the Year’ award?” He went pale. “I just made a mistake. It’s a mistake any man could make…” The bedroom door opened. My in-laws rushed out. “You idiot!” My mother-in-law smacked the back of his head. “We have a good life! Why go out and mess around?” They didn’t know the details, only that their son had angered me again. Since Chase was useless career-wise and I paid the bills, they always took my side. After a scolding, Chase confessed everything. A year ago, he got a job driving for a wealthy tycoon. Over the last six months, he transferred me $1.3 million total. I asked where it came from. He said the boss gave him stock tips. Turns out, he was being a gigolo. Sierra was the tycoon’s mistress. And she was keeping Chase on the side. My in-laws were horrified. His mom started crying. “You worthless boy! Earning dirty money like that!” Chase hung his head, face burning. “I know I was wrong. But I swear, I never wanted a divorce. I felt nothing for her!” “Nothing? Then why sleep with her? Can’t control yourself?” His mom raised her hand again. Chase flinched. “She forced it! She said I was… good. She said her old man was useless, treating her like a pet. She was lonely! She threatened suicide if I left…” I scoffed. “Popular guy.” He crawled to me, grabbing my pant leg. “Chloe, I swear, I never wanted to leave you. I just saw how rich she was. I make nothing. You work so hard… I just wanted to help…” Right. So I should give him an award. Selling his body to support his wife. Kissing me by day, servicing a sugar mama by night. The hustle was real. “Okay,” I looked down at him. “So, she’s suing us for fraud. She wants the money back. What’s the plan?” Chase stiffened. “Screw her! She gave it willingly! I earned that money! Why should I give it back?” I told him to get up, but he clung to my leg. “Chloe, if you don’t forgive me, I won’t get up. What do I have to do?” I stared at him. “I can forgive you. But…” 4 Six months ago, when the first transfer hit, I knew something was off. Stock tips? From a billionaire to a chauffeur? Please. I checked his phone while he slept. I found the texts with Sierra. Chase was a master manipulator. He gave her exactly the emotional validation she craved, and she paid him for it. The funny part was, he immediately forwarded the cash to me. My first instinct was divorce. My best friend, Zoe, called me an idiot. “That necklace you’re wearing? How much?” she asked. “Three grand.” “Bracelet?” “Five hundred.” “Bag?” I couldn’t help it. I smiled. She grinned back. “See?” My anger evaporated. “Look,” Zoe said. “Your husband’s… equipment… was just gathering dust. Now he’s putting it to work for the family economy. It’s brilliant!” I nodded. “Valid point.” “If it were me,” she laughed, “I’d make sure he kept that mistress happy so the checks keep clearing.” I raised my glass. “To you. The voice of reason.” “What else do you need?” she asked mischievously. I pretended to think. “An Audi A6.” A month later, the money for the Audi hit my account. I pretended not to know where it came from. I moved it to a secure account. I made Chase soup. A reward for his hard labor. He drank it with tears in his eyes. He used to beg for my attention. Now that I was “sweet” to him, he was putty in my hands. “Babe, you’re so good to me,” he sniffled. I smiled. Not as good as you, working the night shift. When I told him we needed to fake a divorce so he could scam her for one last big score, he cried. “Chloe! You haven’t forgiven me! I won’t do it!” I pushed him away gently. “I don’t blame you. Really.” He gulped. “Serious?” “Yes. We divorce on paper. You go back, make up with her, and keep the money flowing.” He stared. “You… aren’t afraid I’ll leave for real?” I laughed. “Could you?” He shook his head violently. “Never.” I leaned back. “Sierra is a gold mine. $600k isn’t enough for a kid, for a future. We need to think big.” He was silent, eyes red. “Chase, I’m doing this for us. For our family,” I said softly. “The opportunity is right there. Are you willing to do the work?”

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