I finally met my boyfriend’s notorious “female bro” at a party. She operates under the guise of “just one of the guys,” flirting shamelessly with other girls’ boyfriends and wrecking relationships left and right. Her victims came to me crying: “We can’t take it anymore! Please, go teach that ‘Pick Me’ girl a lesson!” They came to the right person. I’m famous for being a “Green Tea Bitch”—sweet on the outside, scheming on the inside. She wants to fight me? Bring it on. 1 After dating Luke for almost six months, I finally agreed to meet his friends. He wanted to introduce me the first week we started dating, but I was still recovering from a savage tan I got during freshman orientation. A girl needs her recovery period. I’d heard about a celebrity in his circle—Riley. Almost every breakup in the group could be traced back to her. The ex-girlfriends even formed a group chat called “The Avengers,” and I was the first recruit. After all, I had a reputation on campus as a master manipulator, a classic “Green Tea.” I wasn’t about to let the sisters down. I put on my signature “pure lust” makeup and slipped into my battle dress. “Babe, you look gorgeous. They’re going to be so jealous of me,” Luke said, leaning in for a kiss. I dodged dramatically. “Babe, careful! You almost ruined my makeup.” Luke immediately pretended to slap himself. “My bad, my bad.” Hand in hand, Luke and I walked into the restaurant. I spotted his bros immediately. Sitting right in the middle, sticking out like a sore thumb, was a girl. That must be Riley. She saw us holding hands and her face dropped instantly. “Luke, you know the rule. Bros only. No girlfriends allowed.” “Babe~ Why is she looking at me like that? If I knew she didn’t like me, I wouldn’t have come.” Luke rolled his eyes at her and pulled me closer. He introduced me to his friends loud and proud. “This is my girlfriend, Chloe.” His friends started cheering. “Damn, you scored a baddie! If I were you, I’d show her off every day.” “Luke, why do you torture me like this? It hurts more than death.” Hearing everyone praise me, Riley felt left out and started seeking attention. “Luke, that’s not cool. This was supposed to be a boys’ night. Bringing a girl is such a buzzkill.” She looked me up and down. That look was as gross as a creepy old man checking out a woman. I rolled my eyes internally. Heh, acting like she isn’t a girl herself. Luke hugged me tighter. “I organized this dinner. What’s wrong with bringing my girlfriend to meet you guys?” Sensing the tension, I tried to smooth things over, but Luke signaled me to ignore her. I raised an eyebrow at her. Sorry, sis, my boyfriend loves me too much. Can’t help it. “Alright, alright, old rules. New friend means we take a group photo.” Luke’s friends were enthusiastic, pushing me to the center. Riley wasn’t having it. She walked over and shoved me aside. She huffed, “You guys see a pretty girl and lose your minds. I always stand in the middle! You bunch of simps.” The guys looked awkward, scratching their heads, and moved her to the center. “Since when is that a rule? I didn’t know that,” Luke muttered. I sneered internally. Of course, the “Pick Me” girl wants to be the center of attention. When we took the photo, Riley reached out to put her arm around my boyfriend’s waist. I saw it coming and swapped places with him. “Sis, only I get to touch my boyfriend’s waist. If you want to touch someone, touch your other bros.” Riley laughed awkwardly. “Little sister, you’re overthinking it. Luke and I are bros. Now that he has a girlfriend, he can’t even get a bro hug?” She looked at Luke expectantly, waiting for him to choose. Are you kidding me, lady? That’s my boyfriend! Two can play at this game. I turned and buried my face in Luke’s chest. “Babe, she really seems to hate me. Doesn’t she know girls get possessive when they’re in love? Boohoo.” Luke took the hint perfectly. He frowned at Riley immediately. “Stop having such an attitude with my girlfriend.” Riley didn’t dare get angry if she wanted to keep her “cool girl” persona. She had to swallow her rage. Little girl, trying to fight me? Your level is too low. We sat down to eat. As soon as I sat, Riley told me to get up. “That’s my seat.” I looked aggrieved—fake, of course. Luke pushed me back down just as I was about to stand. “Why are you listening to her? She’s spoiled. My girlfriend sits here.” Riley’s face turned green, but she slunk away to sit on the other side of my boyfriend. Now the seating was: Me, Luke, Riley. Luke put food on my plate. Riley put food on Luke’s plate. “Luke, eat more. You’ve been sluggish on the court lately.” Unexpectedly, my straight-guy boyfriend looked disgusted. “Don’t put food on my plate! Your chopsticks have your saliva on them, how am I supposed to eat that?” I cracked up. Seeing Riley clench her fists, I quickly tried to diffuse the situation—sarcastically. “Babe, be nicer. Sister is so thoughtful, giving you food. Unlike me, I only know how to eat…” See, “Bro” Sister? I treat you well. Riley was speechless. Probably the first time she met a worthy opponent, she panicked. I didn’t expect Luke to defend me so hard. Looks like it’s not just Riley’s problem; it depends on the man’s attitude too. Luke’s stomach had been acting up, so I didn’t want him drinking. Riley insisted he drink. “Seriously, Luke, what’s wrong with you? We used to drink every day. Or is it… your girl won’t let you?” Riley gave me a meaningful look. She meant I was controlling him. Fine, I’ll drink with her. As I stood up, I noticed a shadow cross her eyes. “How much can a girl like you drink?” Her tone was dismissive. I held up one finger. She laughed. “Just one glass?” Me: “Until one of us drops.” 2 Everyone stared at me. Even Luke thought it was impossible. They definitely didn’t expect that under my sweet exterior lay a liver of steel. I got my tolerance from my dad. No one has ever out-drunk me. Riley wasn’t convinced. She felt challenged. So began the battle of the Teas. One glass for her, one for me… After three rounds, she was drunk. I was just getting started. She kept going, and no one stopped her. They were all trying to stop me. “Riley, stop drinking with the little sister. You’re bullying her,” Luke’s friend, Tyler, said, trying to stop me. My boyfriend wouldn’t let me drink either. But no one cared about the wasted Riley. I just get flushed when I drink, but my mind is clear. She was actually wasted. “Sister, you can’t out-drink me. Let’s stop,” I said. That hurt her ego. “Luke, what does your girlfriend mean? Is she looking down on me?” I looked at Luke like a frightened bunny. “No, I’m just worried about Sister’s health. What if she gets sick?” Riley finally snapped, glaring at me viciously. Luke shook his head at me, signaling to ignore her. The atmosphere was awkward. To stop Riley from drinking, the bros changed the subject. “Hey Luke, where are we going next?” Luke asked if I was tired. I’m a night owl; life begins at midnight. Of course I wasn’t tired. After discussing it, Luke said we were going to a karaoke bar. On the way, Riley stumbled around, constantly “falling” into Luke’s arms. But every time, my boyfriend dodged with precision. “Luke! I’m this drunk and you won’t even help me?!” Maybe the day’s frustration made Riley finally explode. I watched her tantrum coldly. There were plenty of single guys behind us. Why did she need my boyfriend to help her? Her intentions were obvious. Seeing Luke look at her like she was a monster, Riley lowered her head in disappointment. “You have a girlfriend and now you ignore me? Back in the day, we even shared a bed, and now you ignore me for some girl!” Shared a bed? I looked at Luke suspiciously, demanding an explanation. Luke stood up abruptly, angry and shocked. “What the hell do you mean? Who the f*ck slept in a bed with you? Are you just spewing nonsense now?! I gave you enough face today, Riley. If you talk trash again, you’re out of this circle.” Seeing the mood turn sour, his friends were torn. They tried to calm Luke and Riley. “Bro, she’s just drunk. Don’t take it to heart, sister. She loves joking around. We’ve all been pranked.” Seems like they enjoy being “pranked.” I lowered my head and sighed. “Sigh, Riley is amazing. If I had her mouth, I’d have dated dozens of guys by now.” Let’s see who breaks first. As far as I know, Riley has never had a boyfriend. Simple reason: the girl who seems popular with guys is actually the one desperately maintaining the relationships. Guys are visual creatures. One look at Riley… and they probably lose interest. Only these bros who don’t cherish their girlfriends hang out with her. They aren’t stupid; they just enjoy the attention. “Why isn’t Sister talking… Don’t tell me Sister is so skilled but has never dated… Omo.” Luke looked at me with relief. His friend tugged his shirt. “Control your girlfriend, tell her to say less.” He whispered it, but I have good ears. Tch, what kind of crappy friends. I rolled my eyes internally. Riley ignored me and told us to be quiet. She waved her phone in front of my face. “Luke’s mom is calling. Everyone shut up.” 3 Thinking her savior had arrived, she deliberately put it on speaker and turned up the volume. “Auntie~ Yes, yes, Luke is with me. We had a little drink, don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.” Luke was confused. “How does my mom have your number?” Judging by Luke’s expression, he didn’t know what tricks Riley used either. He looked like a heartbroken puppy trying desperately to distance himself from Riley. I cleared my throat. “Hi Auntie! Luke hasn’t had a chance to introduce me yet. I’ll come visit you in a few days.” She dares to dance in front of the main character? Know your place. Riley panicked, clutching the phone to her chest. “Are you crazy? Who said you could talk?” Auntie sounded confused, asking who was speaking. Riley hung up in a hurry. I didn’t understand the behavior, but I had a preliminary guess. “Sister hung up too fast. I wanted to chat with my future mother-in-law.” I winked at her. She ignored me and glared. Luke was still wondering why she had his mom’s number. Before I noticed the change in everyone’s expression, I continued, “Sister Riley is really amazing. If it were me, I wouldn’t dare to be so close to boys. I get shy just looking at them, let alone asking for their mom’s number. So awkward.” Some people couldn’t sit still anymore and stood up for Riley. “Luke, control your girlfriend. Why is everyone usually fine, but today is so unpleasant?” “Luke, you really are… Riley has known us for so long. You’re forgetting your bros for a girl.” I’m being such a Green Tea and they don’t feel bad for me, but for the “Pick Me” girl? Seems guys can’t tell the difference between teas… I felt a bit defeated for the first time. Riley has quite a few simps; she’s not easy to deal with. These guys… I can only say they deserve to be dumped by the pretty sisters. I want to drive a forklift and scoop them all out. Luke didn’t look happy, so I had to use my ultimate move. “Sob sob, sorry, it’s my fault. I won’t come to your dinners anymore. I won’t ruin your relationships again.” With that, I ran out. I don’t believe Luke won’t come to comfort me. When I got downstairs, I pretended to hail a cab. Luke hugged me from behind. “Sorry babe… I let you suffer today. If you don’t go, I won’t go either. Let’s go have a candlelight dinner.” I saw Riley coming down out of the corner of my eye. I immediately turned around and acted spoiled in Luke’s arms. I gave Riley a provocative look. You got the skills to steal my boyfriend? Come and get him. Riley was grinding her teeth. Luke noticed Riley too, but he didn’t want to engage. Without saying goodbye to his friends, he put me in the car and drove home. Just as the car started, Riley collapsed in front of it. Still acting… I thought Luke would get out to help her, but he just drove around her lying on the ground. That was undoubtedly a huge insult to her. But she asked for it. 4 Luke and I got home and lay in bed… I don’t know what he was thinking, but my brain was full of ways to get revenge on the Pick Me girl. Oh right, I suddenly remembered I was too busy fighting all night to check my phone. Sure enough… opened WeChat, group chat 999+. I had to scroll all the way back. The sisters were all @ing me. “How is Chloe? Did she cough up blood from anger?” “I think Chloe’s combat power is pretty high. She might have pissed Riley off to death.” “Where is Chloe? Why isn’t she reporting the battle situation?” “Let’s give Chloe some time. I estimate the battle is fierce right now, no hands to reply.” I sent a “1”. The chat exploded. “Damn girl, you’re finally back.” I typed out everything that happened today, word for word. I even imitated Riley’s passive-aggressive tone and how I roasted her back. The group chat was hurting my eyes. Luke was depressed beside me. “Stop playing on your phone. Comfort my wounded soul.” I rolled my eyes directly. No one around, mask off. “I’m the one dying of anger because of your female bro and your good bros. Why don’t you comfort me?” Luke instantly backed down and started massaging my shoulders. “What female bro? If they hadn’t insisted on bringing Riley, I wouldn’t even know her. And let me say this first, I’m not close to her at all. Before dating you, I never spoke to her. I really find her annoying. Several couples in my friend group broke up because of her…” I clapped. Good riddance! Meeting those guys was bad luck for the pretty sisters anyway. Those girls’ biggest stain is their exes. “Babe~ Honestly, I don’t like your friends. I feel like they don’t like me either… If they really respected you, why defend Riley?” I’m kinda good at sowing discord. Like they say, set a thief to catch a thief. My morals are loose enough to handle them. If the direct approach doesn’t work, I’ll use the shadows. Luke hesitated, but seeing how wronged I was today, he decided to stab his bros in the back. “It shouldn’t be like this for someone with your values to make friends. I say… next time we don’t invite them.” With my instigation, Luke became firmer in his choice. But we felt like something wasn’t resolved. Oh! I remember. Why did Luke’s mom have Riley’s number? Logically, they weren’t childhood sweethearts or neighbors. Just met in college, introduced by his bros. Shouldn’t have his mom’s number if they aren’t close. Are people perverted enough to save a stranger’s parent’s number? The more Luke thought about it, the creepier it got. Goosebumps. His mom happened to video call. Let’s solve this together. I stayed out of frame to touch up my makeup. His mom sounded confused. “Son, did you fight with Riley? What’s going on? Why bring a girl to a gathering? Won’t she get jealous? Mom doesn’t allow you to do that.” Luke was even more confused. I was lost too. “Mom, what do you mean? Why would Riley get jealous? I brought my girlfriend.” His mom froze completely. It took her ten seconds to react. “Son, Mom is confused. You brought your girlfriend? Then Riley…” “I have nothing to do with Riley. Who told you that?” Luke interrupted his mom. His mom felt baffled too. “Let me tell you the whole story… That day I went to your college to bring you some homemade snacks. I happened to meet a girl and asked if she knew you. She said she was your girlfriend. I didn’t believe it at first—my son has such bad taste? After knowing I was your mom, she asked for my number and said she’d visit me. That’s it.” Luke’s face was cold, veins popping. I felt like he wanted to smash the phone. Actually, I was on a call with the sisters in the group chat. Hearing this tea, they didn’t dare make a sound. The group exploded again… I stepped forward to comfort Auntie. “Auntie, hello, I’m Luke’s real girlfriend, Chloe. Don’t stress, we’ll handle it internally…” I felt Luke’s mom’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, daughter, you are so pretty! No comparison, no harm. That liar pissed me off. I’m blocking her right now.” I wanted to say more, but my phone kept buzzing. I had to say I had private matters to attend to. I checked. 999+ again. “Chloe, don’t let Auntie block her! I have a great idea.” “Chloe, we came up with a good play. Stabilize your boyfriend and his mom first.” I had to follow their lead. I couldn’t think of a way to deal with Riley anyway. “Auntie, don’t block her yet. Might be useful later.” Luke pouted. Hearing this, his mom didn’t dare act rashly, only sighing and complaining about being deceived. For the next hour, his mom roasted Riley.

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At our high school reunion, the guy I’d secretly loved for five years said he had a surprise for me. I went, heart fluttering, thinking he might feel the same way. Instead, I found our classmate, Regina, nestled in his arms. In front of everyone, she read aloud the love letter I had written to him. Luke played with a lock of her hair and smirked. “Babe, look at how pathetic she is.” 1 I sat awkwardly in the corner of the private room. “Dear Luke, I like you.” Regina was still reading the love letter I gave Luke. Her voice wasn’t loud, but everyone was weirdly quiet, holding their breath, waiting for the punchline. As soon as she finished the last word, the room exploded with laughter. The class brainiac acted like he just heard the funniest joke ever. “Finally know what ‘a toad wanting to eat swan meat’ means. Sarah is really teaching us by example.” The jock chimed in. “It’s not your fault you’re ugly, but seriously, do you have zero self-awareness?” “Damn, Sarah, if only I had skin as thick as yours.” … They discussed me brazenly, venting their primal malice. The admiration written with youthful tremors had become evidence of my cluelessness, nailing me to the pillar of shame. “Seriously, the audacity. Who do you think my Regina is?” Lily, Regina’s sidekick, grabbed a glass of juice and splashed it on me. I didn’t dodge in time and got soaked. Juice ran down from my head, ruining my makeup and staining my dress sticky. The look I spent hours preparing this morning now seemed like a joke. My fingers gripped the white dress until my knuckles turned white. Actually, I didn’t care about their mockery. I looked up at Luke. Regina was gently rubbing his lips, acting jealous. “Luke, Sarah likes you.” I caught his eye. “Just to make you laugh.” “Babe, look at how pathetic she is.” I once thought Luke was the only salvation of my youth. I was always introverted and plain, quickly becoming a target for bullies. When Lily cornered me again, kicking and cursing, he stepped in and shielded me. In the days that followed, under his protection and company, I gradually opened up, and feelings grew secretly. Even though he was an unreachable star, I wanted to get closer. I forgot the ending of a moth flying into a flame is burning to ashes. 2 I dragged my sorry self home. In the bathroom, looking at my ridiculous reflection in the mirror. Hair clumped with juice, ruined makeup covering my face, features indistinguishable. I opened my phone and saw Luke’s new post. “Honored to have you for the rest of my life.” I stared at that post blankly. Regina in the picture wore a butterfly necklace, smiling brightly. The background was the amusement park I’d longed to visit. Lily commented: “Bro Luke, you really surprised my Regina. I can rest assured handing her to you~” Luke replied instantly: “Of course, Regina cares most about rituals, surprises are essential.” So this was the surprise Luke talked about. The details in the pictures were mostly memories Luke left me. “Sarah, after finals, let’s go to the amusement park to relax, okay?” “This necklace is so pretty, it suits you.” I really fell for it, crying like a mess. I finally knew what it felt like for the person you like to be with someone else. The pain was ten thousand times stronger than the liking. But what right did I have to be heartbroken? I didn’t even have a status to be jealous. They were right, I really didn’t know my place. When my tears dried, I composed myself, went downstairs to a hair salon, and walked in. Since we couldn’t walk side by side, let’s part ways cleanly. “Oh my, Sarah, how did you get so messy? This hair is done for, I’ll give you a nice cut.” “Whatever you think is best.” With my consent, the barber chatted while snipping away. My hurt feelings were soothed. “Short hair looks sharp on girls, look how fresh this is.” “This cut is on the house, you’ve worked hard. We neighbors all see your diligence. Now that finals are over, you can relax.” “Young lady, you must have done well on the exam.” Facing kindness, I smiled. “It was okay, felt just like normal practice.” Actually, I was in great form for the exam, easily getting into a top university. But before I could share this joy with Luke, he revealed his true colors. We had agreed to go to the same university regardless of scores. Now it seems unnecessary. 3 The next day, I found a job as a hotel receptionist. Luke didn’t come to trouble me for a few days, and I worked diligently. Thought it was over. Unexpectedly, I bumped into the group shopping on my way to work. Wanting to avoid trouble, I lowered my head and quickened my pace, trying to get into the hotel before they saw me. But Lily grabbed my clothes right at the door. “Yo, isn’t this Sarah? You got pretty. I was wondering why you stopped clinging to Luke, turns out…” Lily pulled me, glanced at the hotel, and raised her voice gloatingly. “You come to this kind of place every day.” Passersby stopped and cast meaningful looks at me. But I was just here to work, yet I had to suffer groundless accusations. I was ashamed and humiliated, face burning. Looking up, I met Luke’s face, dark as a pot bottom. “Sarah, there are many ways to make money, no need to ruin your future like this. You’re young, what if you catch some disease?” Excuse me? Just one scene, and they assume I’m doing dirty work out of context. Ridiculous. Regina was watching the show with arms crossed, but hearing Luke, she threw a tantrum. “What, you feel bad for her?” He quickly hugged her to comfort her. “How could I? My princess, just advising her to have some self-respect for the sake of being classmates.” “After all, I don’t want to be laughed at for having a classmate who’s a hooker.” They spread rumors self-righteously while being affectionate. I suddenly didn’t want to clarify. “Didn’t brush your teeth? Mouth so foul. Who I’m with is none of your business.” “Worry about yourself first. Some people might not even get into college.” Luke knew what I meant. Lips pressed tight, a straight line showing his dissatisfaction. After all, his grades hovering around the cutoff line really couldn’t guarantee a spot. I turned and left. 4 “Sarah, sorry.” “It’s my fault, I didn’t know you worked here. I said those harsh words this morning because I was afraid you’d get hurt.” When I got off work, Luke blocked the hotel entrance. “So?” I was expressionless. Some hurts can’t be healed with a sorry. “Day after tomorrow is your birthday, I want to throw you an unforgettable party.” I was stunned. In the past years, I remembered his birthday, saved money to buy him cake and gifts. Today he offered proactively. The defense line I built with difficulty collapsed instantly. So cheap. Lowering my bottom line again and again, moved again and again. I’m so cheap. Seeing Luke’s sincere and eager eyes, I couldn’t help but remember the moments he protected me. I rubbed my eyes, holding back the sourness. “Luke, I never owed you anything. You pranked me repeatedly, I won’t say anything, let’s just pretend we never knew each other.” “Besides, you have a girlfriend, throwing me a birthday party is inappropriate.” Luke’s handsome brows furrowed, his fair slender hand approached my cheek, wanting to catch the tear about to spill. I sniffled, Luke knew I was going to cry. But he said, “Sarah, my girlfriend feels very guilty about what happened and wants a chance to make it up to you.” “Please, Sarah, just help me this once, okay?” So it was for his beloved. What was I expecting? I stared at him blankly for a long time. He was standing there, but I couldn’t see him clearly. I thought he wanted to celebrate my birthday because he cared. Even just as a friend. Forget it. Let the wrong story end. “I’ll help you one last time, don’t bother me again.”

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I abruptly pulled my hit novel from publication right as it reached the climax. The internet exploded with outrage, but I ignored it all. Instead, I dragged two rising stars—one from the music industry and one from the art world—off to a mountain villa. We spent our days hiking, relaxing, and playing poker. But back home, the so-called “genius heiress” was panicking. Our simultaneous hiatuses and the lackluster work she was now putting out were drawing heavy criticism online. In our past life, the three of us were crucified for plagiarism. We were buried under a landslide of cyberbullying and massive lawsuits. My parents disowned me, my reputation was destroyed, and debt collectors eventually drove me to my death. Her suitors, eager to please her, poisoned the singer’s voice and severed the tendons in the artist’s hands. We tried to clear our names, but no matter how brilliant our work was, it could always be traced back to something the “genius heiress” had published just days before. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was the night before her rise to fame. 1 Staring at my computer screen, I saw that my novel was nearing its end. In my past life, this story had racked up millions of views as soon as I published it. It was even adapted into a blockbuster movie, a household name. But this time, I wasn’t going to follow the original plot. I paused and sighed. Relying on my memories, I counted down the seconds and searched the web. Sure enough, at 6:03 PM, a novel appeared on an obscure website. My hands trembled as I clicked on it. Even knowing what I would find, my heart still skipped a beat. The content was eerily similar to mine, released exactly three days before I planned to publish my chapters. It was complete, save for the ending. My heart sank. If I followed the path of my previous life and published this book, I would be stepping into an abyss. “Is the ending done?” my editor messaged. “Check for typos and upload it ASAP. I can’t wait for it to go live!” Even through the text, I could feel her excitement. In my past life, we both had such high hopes for this book, eagerly awaiting its explosion in popularity. “Sorry, babe, I need to make major changes to this book,” I typed, a bitter smile on my lips. “But it’s already perfect…” she replied, confused. “Trust me, I can make it even better.” I smiled, a new plot already forming in my mind. I looked at the screen, right-clicked on the original file, and sent it to the recycling bin. I am Sarah Shen, the fake daughter of the Shen family, switched at birth. When the real daughter, Serena Shen, returned, I didn’t cling to my position. I was ready to return to my rightful place as agreed. But my parents, sentimental about our years together, kept me. The reason was simple: I had brought them honor over the years. More importantly, when their business failed, I used my writing savings and scholarships to help them pull through. I was known as the genius girl of the Shen family, the pride of our social circle. I never expected that the real daughter, brought back from the outside, would accuse me of plagiarism at the height of my glory. She projected comparison charts in front of everyone, tearfully accusing me of stealing her work. The characters, the main plot—everything coincidentally matched hers. Instantly, reporters swarmed me like sharks smelling blood. 2 Her novel had been published three days before mine. Although it wasn’t popular and the writing was immature, the plot and characters were nearly identical to mine. “I was abandoned and never received the education my sister did.” “But sister, this is my hard work, written stroke by stroke.” “You have fans, resources. You’ve occupied the nest for so long and gained so much glory.” “I’m nobody, but you can’t just suck my blood like this.” The abuse was overwhelming. “She’s so shameless! Stealing someone’s parents wasn’t enough; she has to steal their work too.” “Just because her sister has no connections or resources, she deserves to be bullied like this?” “Evil capitalism! Thank god Serena is the real daughter! She kicked an iron plate this time!” “I support Serena! Take down this plagiarist!” The internet was filled with crusades against me. I sighed. Because of this book, I fell into a trap of self-proof. But no matter how I tried to prove myself, she was always one step ahead. I tried to build story after story, but traces of them could always be found in her posts from three days prior. It was as if she could predict my every move. “Our Serena is a true talent. She can write, sing, and paint.” “It’s obvious who’s real and who’s fake.” Later, I discovered her online portfolio wasn’t limited to literature. It extended to music and art. Rising music star Ryan Luo’s new album “Stardust” and art prodigy Lily Jiang’s painting “Sunflowers” both bore striking resemblances to songs Serena casually recorded and doodles she posted on Instagram—always published exactly three days before their official releases. Those three days were enough to leave us defenseless. Overnight, Serena became a genius girl. Everyone believed our works were derivatives of hers. We were splashed with dirty water we could never wash off. My parents and brother kicked me out, leaving me to fend for myself. 3 Massive compensation demands and overwhelming slander drove me to the rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before my deadline. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I deleted the original content and wrote a new draft. I constructed the story again, making it even more compelling. But when I reached the ending, I hesitated. Before I could even write it, Serena published another new book online. The serialized content, apart from slight differences in writing style and character names, followed my new plot almost exactly. And her update schedule mirrored mine perfectly—always three days ahead. A chill ran down my spine. I searched my room for bugs or cameras. I checked my computer and the room thoroughly but found nothing. Forcing myself to calm down, I stopped writing the ending and walked out of my room. When I have writer’s block or feel down, I like to grab a drink from the fridge to take the edge off. My mind was a mess; I needed alcohol to think. The weirdest part was that if I didn’t publish, I couldn’t find any trace of her work. Her work only appeared after I updated. But then I saw Serena in the living room. She closed her laptop and smiled at me sweetly. “Sister, still awake so late?” Before I could speak, I heard a faint electronic voice. “Host, still no search results for the ending of Sarah Shen’s novel updated in the next three days.” “System, can you only search three days ahead? Not longer?” “Yes, Host. Being able to predict three days into the future is enough for you to be a genius in this world.” “I will temporarily block her updates. Her content will only appear after you upload yours.” 4 My heart skipped a beat. I could hear her thoughts! So Serena had a cheat code! From their conversation, I learned everything. Since she was brought home, she had awakened this system. It was like a search engine for the future, capable of finding any content from the next three days. I finally understood why she could predict everything. Songs and paintings could only be copied roughly. After all, Serena didn’t have a heavenly voice or solid painting skills. But text could be copied word for word. That’s why in my past life, my work received the most hate. Looking at the work I’d agonized over these past few days, I could only contact my editor and pull it prematurely before trouble found me. “Sarah, what are you thinking?!” “There’s nothing wrong with this work… why pull it again?” “Last time too… what happened?” “…Is my pressure for drafts too much for you?” “You don’t have to be such a perfectionist.” I sighed and forwarded Serena’s website to her. Sure enough, she fell silent. “Your writing is better than hers. If we hadn’t built the plot together, I would have been confused.”

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At Thanksgiving, my Grandpa said, “Glad you’re enjoying the college fund we set up.” I blinked. “What fund?” My dad went pale, my mom dropped her fork, and Grandpa’s face shifted from proud to confused. 1 So, I, 22 male, always the responsible one, while my younger brother Tyler was a complete mess—failing community college, getting in trouble, generally being useless. I worked construction for three years to pay for my mechanical engineering degree. 18 bucks an hour swinging hammers, mixing concrete, coming home covered in dust and cement burns. Meanwhile, Tyler got everything handed to him. My parents constantly bragged about how independent I was. Mom would tell anyone who’d listen how I never asked for money, how mature I was compared to other kids. She drives a brand new BMW X3, gets her nails done at expensive salons, shops constantly. I’m driving a beat-up 2003 F-150 with 200,000 miles, rust spots, and duct tape holding the bumper on. No AC, radio only gets AM stations, I have to hit the dashboard to make the speedometer work. My best friend Alex, trust fund kid whose parents aren’t even as wealthy as mine, always thought something was fishy. “Bro,” he’d say, “My dad makes half what your dad makes at the plant, and he still covers my car insurance, phone bill, gives me spending money. Something’s really weird about your family’s money situation.” I always defended them. Told Alex they were teaching me responsibility, building character, preparing me for the real world. Looking back, I was a complete idiot. Dad makes $80,000 a year as a plant supervisor, plus overtime and bonuses. But somehow there was never money for their supposedly beloved, responsible son. Turns out there was a very good reason for that. And when I found out the truth, I made sure the entire town knew exactly what kind of people my parents really were. So Thanksgiving rolls around last year. We always do this massive family dinner at my grandparents’ house. Grandpa Bill and Grandma Ruth. These are genuine salt-of-the-earth people who worked their whole lives, saved every penny, and never bought anything they couldn’t afford twice. Grandpa was a union electrician for 40 years, worked through three recessions, never missed a day unless he was literally in the hospital. Grandma was a school secretary for 35 years, knew every kid in town, helped raise half the neighborhood. They’ve always been super tight with money, but incredibly generous with family. The kind of people who’ll slip you a twenty and tell you not to tell anyone. Their house is this old two-story farmhouse that Grandpa basically built himself in the 1970s. Everything solid wood, built to last forever, immaculately maintained. Grandma still has the same furniture from when they got married, not because they can’t afford new stuff, but because it still works perfectly fine. The dining room table is this massive oak thing that seats 12 people comfortably. And every Thanksgiving it’s absolutely loaded with food. Dinner’s going completely normal. Turkey that Grandpa spent two days brining and smoking, Grandma’s famous stuffing that has some secret ingredient she’ll never reveal. Football on the old tube TV in the living room. My cousin Emma talking about nursing school and how hard organic chemistry is. Tyler’s there looking tired as usual, probably hungover from whatever he did the night before. Mom’s complaining about something stupid like how the grocery store was out of the specific brand of cranberry sauce she wanted. Dad’s arguing with Uncle Steve about politics and whether the plant’s going to get that new contract. Standard Peterson family chaos. Then Grandpa stands up to give one of his traditional speeches. He gets really sentimental at holidays; it’s actually pretty sweet. The man fought in Vietnam, worked dangerous jobs his whole life, but holidays make him tear up every single time. He’s talking about being proud of his grandkids, watching us grow up into good people. How blessed he feels to have family around the table. All that good grandfather stuff that normally makes everyone smile and nod along. Then he looks directly at me with this huge proud smile and says, “And Adam, I’m just real happy to see that college fund we set up is helping you get through engineering school without drowning in debt like so many kids these days. Makes all those extra shifts I worked worth every penny.” The entire room went dead silent. Like, you could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen silent. I’m staring at him like he just spoke a foreign language. My brain completely stopped working for a second. “What college fund?” That’s when I notice Mom’s fork frozen halfway to her mouth, mashed potatoes still stuck on it. And Dad suddenly becomes intensely interested in studying his plate like it contains the secrets of the universe. Tyler’s the only one still eating, completely oblivious as always, making gross chewing noises that suddenly seem incredibly loud. “The fund we started when you were born,” Grandpa says, looking genuinely confused by my reaction. “Been putting money in every birthday and Christmas for 22 years. Your Mom said you were doing great managing it for college expenses. Should be around $65,000 by now. Maybe more with the interest.”

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On our wedding anniversary, Julian Marriott—a man meticulous in all things—stood me up for the very first time. He was at a welcome-home party for his ex-wife. In a video that was already circulating, Julian, a notorious germaphobe who loathed physical contact, was seen embracing everyone in the room. When he reached his ex-wife, he paused for a moment before pulling her into a tight, lingering hug. A smile touched the lips of the man whose face was usually a mask of perfect composure. It was then I realized with a sickening lurch that in five years as his wife, I had never once seen a real, unguarded emotion cross his face. But I am Elara Vance, the sole heiress to the Vance fortune. I get what I want. And I would never stoop to the clownish drama of fighting another woman for a man. 1. A photo of their embrace, snapped by some socialite, quickly found its way online. Rumors of a rift in the marriage of the Marriott empire’s crown prince shot to the top of every major newsfeed. Before I could even react, the trending topic, which had been marked with a blazing “EXPLODING” tag, vanished. The Marriott Corporation’s official account released a crisp statement. The most rabid posters were served with court summonses. The entire affair was sterilized from the internet in less than ten minutes. Julian Marriott would never allow anything to threaten the alliance between the Marriott and Vance families. Just as I shut my phone, my name was splashed across every billboard in the city. A grand, public display, affirming my status and the respect due to Mrs. Marriott. But I just stared at the neon lights, lost. In five years, this was the first time. The first time the ever-punctual, ever-organized man had missed our anniversary. The next morning, as I was about to leave, I saw Julian’s car pulling into the driveway. He stepped out, a child’s brightly colored backpack—a stark contrast to his usual refined elegance—in one hand. In the other, he held the hand of a little girl. He knelt, pulling the child into a hug, his eyes filled with a softness I had never seen before. Following behind them was a woman in a simple white dress. I recognized her. Julian’s ex-wife. He saw me standing by my car and froze for a second before stopping. “Elara,” he began, his eyes downcast as if in explanation, “Lily has to attend school here in the city. It’s an issue with her records.” Before I could speak, the woman beside him cut in. “Mrs. Marriott, I’m so sorry. I’m raising her on my own, I really had no other choice.” I looked down at her from the slight advantage of my heels, my voice dripping with scorn. “My husband and I are speaking. Who gave you permission to interrupt?” Julian frowned slightly but said nothing. As the woman’s face flushed with humiliation, I turned to my husband, my expression hardening. “Because of this morning’s photos, the joint Vance-Marriott enterprise has already dropped ten percent.” My cold stare was enough to make the little girl in his arms burst into tears. “Go away! He’s my daddy!” Julian’s frown deepened, and he quickly patted Lily’s back to soothe her. He looked at me with a weary sort of helplessness. “Elara, it was just a hug. And I’ve already had my team handle the crisis with the company.” His tone was exasperated, but it was a familiar one, and it made my chest tighten. It was the same as it had been for the past five years. He would always protect my public dignity as Mrs. Marriott. But he seemed to forget that I needed to be loved, too. I had once tried to teach him how to make me happy. But now I realized that if a relationship needed to be taught, it was already a failure. “Have them gone by the time I get home tonight,” I said, turning my back to him, and drove to my office. As the Vance heiress, I had little time to waste on intruders. I worked until midnight. When I finally returned home, I was certain that the ever-pragmatic Julian would have handled the situation. That certainty shattered the moment I opened the door. “Mrs. Marriott,” Mona said, having changed into a rather provocative silk nightgown. “You’re back. I’ll have the butler prepare dinner for you.” My eyes narrowed. Was she playing lady of the house? I walked towards her, a mocking smile playing on my lips. I hooked a finger under the strap of her nightgown. “A fan of hand-me-downs?” Mona’s face stiffened, clearly thrown by my lack of reaction to her provocation. “Can you just give him back to me?” she pleaded, her voice suddenly trembling. “There’s no love between you. But my child needs her father.” I paused on the stairs and turned, one eyebrow raised. “A family heiress needs profits, not love,” I said, my smile turning derisive. “Your worldview is rather limited, isn’t it?” The disdain in my eyes was a direct hit to her fragile pride. The color drained from her face. I was about to turn away when she lost control and blocked my path. “You know he was with me last night, don’t you? But do you know what we did?” She flashed her phone screen at me. A picture of a rumpled hotel bed filled the display. “Are you really that tolerant, Mrs. Marriott?” I glanced down. I recognized Julian’s hand instantly. The ring on his finger was the one I had placed there myself. My own fingers curled into a fist, just for a second. But on the surface, I was still the cool, untouchable Elara Vance. “After a steady diet of caviar, I suppose even he craves something… common.” Mona gasped, her face turning crimson with humiliation. Back in my room, I looked at the man already asleep in our bed. His usually perfect hair was mussed, falling softly across his forehead. I unconsciously touched the ring on my own hand. My fingers traced the line of his brow, down the bridge of his nose, and came to rest on his thin lips. Julian, don’t let me down. 2. The next morning, I woke to an empty space beside me. I opened the bedroom door to the sound of laughter. A sound this cold, silent villa had never known. I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. Julian, the man who hadn’t set foot in our kitchen in the five years we’d been married, was frying eggs. The innocent-looking woman and the sweet little girl were playing happily on the sofa. A bitter, mocking smile touched my lips, and my eyes began to sting. For a sickening moment, I felt like I was the intruder. The harmonious atmosphere shattered the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs. “Elara,” Julian said, carrying a plate, his expression perfectly normal. “When are you sending them away?” I asked. It was the first time I had ever used such a tone with him. He didn’t answer. Instead, he placed Lily in her high chair, made sure she was settled, and only then did he look up at me. His eyes held that restrained, tightly controlled impatience I had come to despise. “I told you. She needs to go to school here.” A flash of irritation went through me. “Don’t tell me the great Julian Marriott can’t handle a simple school enrollment! Are you trying to keep the child close, or the woman?” “Elara!” he cut me off, his voice a low warning. “Watch your tone. Mona is Lily’s mother. The child is too young to be separated from her.” At the sound of our raised voices, the little girl shrieked and flung a bowl of hot porridge directly at me. “I hate you!” she wailed. “You’re the bad lady who broke up Mommy and Daddy!” A searing pain shot through my leg. I winced, my eyes flashing towards her. “I’m so sorry, she didn’t mean it. She just misses her father so much,” Mona said, quickly stepping in front of the girl, blocking my view. I struggled to breathe past the tightness in my chest. It was only then that I saw it clearly. The three of them looked like a perfect family. And I was standing on the opposite side, a ridiculous obstacle. A wave of fury washed over me, and I lost my composure. I stared coldly at Mona. “Do you really think the Marriott family would want an heir who, at five years old, is still a rude, ill-mannered little brat—” “Elara Vance!” Julian’s voice was like ice, instantly extinguishing my anger. He faced me, his expression colder than I had ever seen it, devoid of any emotion. “Lily is my daughter. As my wife, you will accept her presence. And today, you were unbecoming.” With that, he scooped up the tearful little girl and walked away. Mona, naturally, picked up his briefcase. She glanced back at me, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. The noisy villa fell silent once more. A bitter taste filled my mouth. In Julian’s eyes, I was the perfect Vance heiress, his elegant and composed wife. I wasn’t allowed to have my own emotions. I was never, ever to lose my composure. As the sound of the car engine faded, the strength seemed to drain from my spine, and I slumped forward. Julian, you let me down after all. Five years ago, during the global financial crisis, the Marriott and Vance families, the two titans of the city, had proposed a marriage alliance to fight off foreign capital. As the only Vance daughter, I chose the recently divorced Julian Marriott. I knew he had an ex-wife and a daughter. But I thought, who doesn’t have a past? Who doesn’t have someone they remember fondly? In our marriage, Julian was a near-perfect husband. But now that a true exception to his perfectly controlled world had appeared, I realized I wasn’t as calm as I thought I could be. … The next day was the Marriott family patriarch’s birthday banquet. As Julian’s wife, my attendance was required. That evening, Julian arrived at the villa precisely on time. In the car, an invisible wall stood between us. After a long silence, Julian seemed to relent. He sighed, raised the privacy divider, and moved to sit beside me. “Elara,” he said, breaking the silence. “The title of Mrs. Marriott will always be yours.” I felt the warmth of his hand covering mine and was momentarily dazed. I knew this was his way of making peace. The city lights flashed across his handsome face, and for a moment, his deep eyes reflected only me. He held my hand all the way into the banquet hall, and I felt a flicker of hope. But that hope was quickly extinguished. “Julian,” a voice called out. Mona, dressed in a stunning traditional gown, was greeting guests as if she were the lady of the house. She smoothly took the birthday gift from his hand before turning to me with a look of feigned, timid surprise. “Oh… Mrs. Marriott.” I frowned but kept my composure in the crowded room. My eyes, however, demanded an explanation from Julian. “She is Lily’s mother,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “It’s Grandfather’s birthday, and he wanted to see his great-granddaughter.” The fragile hope that had just begun to bloom within me withered and died. “She’s standing here, in the Marriott family home, playing hostess. Where does that leave me?” Julian finally seemed to register my words, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I pulled my hand from his, the warmth instantly replaced by a spreading chill. A man like Julian Marriott, a perfect heir forged in the brutal wars of high society, couldn’t possibly be blind to Mona’s intentions. He wasn’t intervening. He was allowing it. Feeling the curious stares of the other guests, I forced the bitterness from my face and became the perfect marriage partner once more. The lights and chatter swirled around me, my thoughts a tangled mess. Before I knew it, I had wandered out to the long veranda in the back garden to clear my head. This was where Julian and I had first met. Our story began in the deep autumn, we came together in the summer, and now, in the dead of winter, we were drifting apart. “The great Elara Vance, being provoked to her face and still holding back?” a low, magnetic voice teased from behind me. I turned. It was Caleb Blackwood, the current head of the Blackwood family. “This isn’t like you,” he said, draping his jacket, which smelled of pine, over my shoulders, chasing away the cold. “Just say the word, and I can make her disappear.” I didn’t find the offer strange in the slightest. In our world, if you weren’t ruthless, you became a casualty of family politics. “There’s no need. She’s not a real threat.” Caleb suddenly moved closer, his cool presence enveloping me. “Then why are you out here drinking your sorrows away?” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “When you chose your marriage alliance, I was too slow to deal with the obstacles in my own family. But now… can you consider me?” Caleb had always been a charming rogue around me. Seeing him so serious now, I was struck by how much he had changed from the boy I once knew. “I’m still married to Julian, you know.” He shrugged. “I’m willing to be the other man. I’d be honored.” I laughed and playfully punched his arm. I was about to reply when a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. Julian stood there, his face dark, glaring at Caleb. The temperature around the two alpha males seemed to drop several degrees. “We’re going home,” Julian said, his voice clipped. In the car, he raised the divider. Then, to my astonishment, he leaned over me. This was nothing like his usual tender kisses. This was a brutal, bruising claim that made me wince. After a long moment, he pulled back, panting, his deep eyes swirling with an emotion I had never seen before. “Elara,” he rasped, “stay away from him.” 3. The pain on my lips made me push him away, a surge of anger rising within me. I had merely exchanged a few words with Caleb. He, on the other hand, had paraded his ex-wife and child through my home. What right did he have to make demands of me? “Why should I?” I asked, my voice cold. Julian looked up, his dark eyes like whirlpools, pulling me in. “Because you are my woman.” I frowned. “No, I’m not. Mona is.” He actually chuckled, the usual frost on his face melting into something softer. “Mrs. Marriott, you’re jealous.” I shoved him away, my actions fueled by a childish petulance I despised in myself. “Send them away.” The atmosphere instantly froze over. The smile vanished from Julian’s face, as if the brief warmth had been a figment of my imagination. “Elara,” he said, loosening his tie with a sigh of immense weariness. “She is not a threat to you. Besides, Lily is my daughter. I can’t just abandon her.” I stared out the window at the passing city lights, which were beginning to blur. A light rain had started to fall, smudging my view. “I never told you not to take care of Lily.” Julian looked at me as if I were a petulant child. “Mona raised our daughter alone overseas for five years. I owe her.” A bitter, indescribable ache spread through my chest. “So you’re telling me I just have to accept her presence in my life?” He looked down, then turned my body to face him. His hand gently covered my eyes, which I knew were turning red. “I need you to understand. No matter what, you will always be my wife.” His evasive defense of her felt like a betrayal. Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. All the moments I had genuinely tried, all the effort I had put in, seemed utterly meaningless. In this grand performance I had hoped for, he had let me down yet again. Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number. [Miss Vance, Julian and I were inconsiderate today. I’m sorry.] Attached was a photo. In it, Julian was holding Lily under the moonlight, while Mona stood beside them, smiling. I narrowed my eyes. My chest felt tight, constricted. It was a cheap trick, but a brutally effective one. I tossed the phone to Julian, my voice devoid of emotion. “It seems I’m the third wheel in your relationship, aren’t I?” He looked down at the phone, and his first instinct was still to defend her. “She probably just felt you’d be upset and wanted to apologize.” I laughed, a sharp, angry sound. “Julian, are you playing dumb, or are you really this blind? Do I have to catch you in bed with her to get you to admit what’s happening?!” “Elara,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Watch what you say. Nothing inappropriate has happened between Mona and me.” I let out a cold laugh, a sob catching in my throat that only I could hear. “Nothing inappropriate? So it only counts if you’re naked?” The car fell silent. When I looked at Julian, his eyes were filled with a coldness I had never seen directed at me before. “Elara Vance, you are Mrs. Marriott. Show some damn grace!” I don’t know how to describe the feeling of that moment. The garden I had cultivated for him in my heart had turned to barren wasteland. I fought back the bitterness, my eyes burning. “I have no grace? Ha…” “If I had no grace, I would have thrown them out the very first night! Would she have even had the chance to shove her bed photos in my face?” “If I had no grace, when the photos of you two hit the internet, the Vance family would have already made her disappear!” The sudden emotional outburst was fueled by the raw pain of being so completely misunderstood. It was like being pricked by the thorns of a rose. All anyone else saw was the beautiful flower, but all I felt was the piercing pain. Julian looked stunned, his gaze fixed on my tear-filled eyes. “I…” I turned away and rolled down the window, letting the fine rain mist my face, hiding the pathetic tears. “Do you know why my parents named me Elara?” I asked, speaking to no one in particular. “They said it’s because I was their one and only. Unique.” I took a deep breath, pulling the dignity of the Vance heiress around me like a shield. “So, if to you, I am just a disposable piece in a game of profit and loss, then we are done.” Hearing this, a panic he didn’t understand seized him. He turned and pulled me into a fierce embrace. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 4. The moment we stepped into the villa, Mona appeared, holding a crying Lily, her face a mask of fragile distress. “Julian, Lily won’t stop crying for you, I…” But this time, Julian didn’t take the child. Instead, he had the nanny take her back to her room. Then, under Mona’s bewildered gaze, he threw my phone at her. “Apologize,” he bit out. The sudden fury in his voice left Mona stunned. She glanced at the phone, her eyes flashing with jealousy. Julian looked at my cold, impassive face and lost his patience. “Elara is my wife. Don’t send her things that could be misunderstood.” Perhaps it was the first time she had ever seen him so stern. Mona’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Miss Vance,” she sobbed, a picture of wounded pride. “My wording was inappropriate. Please forgive me.” I met her gaze, my own eyes cold. I stepped forward and tilted her chin up with one hand, my voice dripping with contempt. “‘Miss Vance’? If the words ‘Mrs. Marriott’ are too difficult for you to say, I don’t mind having someone pry your mouth open.” I looked down at her. “Drop the act. Or I will show you just how many arrogant little fools are locked away in the Vance family’s basements.” Mona swayed, her face pale as a sheet. Julian frowned and stepped in. “That’s enough. She knows she was wrong. I’ll buy a separate house for you and Lily. Don’t come here or to the main estate again.” He stood up, subtly shielding Mona from my gaze. Mona looked at him in disbelief. Tears streamed down her face as she took Lily and left the villa. But the very next evening, she was back, kneeling before me, her face streaked with tears. Julian stood beside her, his expression grim. “Mrs. Marriott, I was wrong! I never should have disturbed your life! But Lily is innocent! She’s just a child! I’m begging you, please let her go!” I frowned, my face a mask of ice. “Watch your mouth. Who do you think you are, trying to pin something on me?” Julian, who had been silent, stepped forward, his face darker than I had ever seen it. “The kidnapper’s phone was traced back to the son of your family’s butler.” He closed his eyes, fighting for control. “Elara, the child is innocent. Hand her over to me, and I can let this go.” I stared at him in disbelief. “You think I’m that kind of person?” Perhaps my expression was too full of pain. He looked away. “I have to believe the evidence.” In that instant, our five-year marriage felt like a joke. It took me five years to understand that some people, some things, should never have been a part of my life. I reined in my emotions, my voice flat. “Julian Marriott, in the end, you still managed to disappoint me.” Seeing the confusion in his eyes, I added, “If Elara Vance wants to get rid of someone, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to use her own servants.” I turned to the trembling Mona. “Even a viper doesn’t eat its own young. You’re a special kind of monster.” I looked at the two of them standing side-by-side, my heart filled with scorn. As I left, I called my assistant. “Prepare divorce papers for Julian Marriott and myself. And,” I closed my eyes, opening them again to reveal nothing but cold resolve, “pull all domestic Vance investments from Marriott Industries. Divest from our overseas joint enterprise. Contact the Blackwood family. I want Marriott Industries’ stock to hit rock bottom. Within three days.” I hung up. Outside the car window, the rain had stopped. “Julian Marriott,” I whispered to the empty car. “I’m going to show you what regret really means.”

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Two in the morning, and my sister asked me to go downstairs to get her takeout. “Zoey, you’re the best!” “My cramps are killing me. Can you just get it for me this once? Please?” I was about to say no, but the color was drained from her face, and she didn’t look like she was faking it. I sighed and nodded. But the moment I stepped out the door, a stream of comments flashed before my eyes! 【OMG, ZOEY, DON’T DO IT!!!】 【The delivery guy is her ex-boyfriend, Mark, in disguise! The second you go down there, he’s going to stab you to death!】 【Your sister knows everything. She’s using you as a shield, just trying to buy herself some time!】 I froze. I turned to go back inside, but the door was already locked from the inside! Just then, the elevator down the hall whirred to life, its soft hum signaling its ascent. The comments exploded in a frenzy: 【RUN, ZOEY, RUN! THE KILLER IS COMING!!!】 1 My heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, I bolted for the fire stairwell at the end of the hall. The heavy door slammed shut behind me, and in the same instant, I heard the ding of the elevator arriving. In the dead silence of the hallway, a man’s heavy footsteps echoed. I huddled behind the stairwell door, my body drenched in a cold sweat. I remembered how my sister, Ava, had been clinging to my arm just moments before, whining for me to get her food. “Please, big sis? Just this one time? I’ll treat you to dinner later!” Even then, I’d felt something was off. Her eyes kept darting away, unable to meet mine. So she knew. She knew her psycho ex-boyfriend, Mark, was coming for her. I clenched my jaw, pressing my ear against the cold steel of the door. But it was strangely quiet now. The hallway had gone completely silent. The silence, however, was more terrifying than the footsteps. I had no idea what was waiting for me on the other side. I looked up, and the comments were still scrolling frantically across my vision. 【This is terrifying. Mark is right out there in the hall, listening at every door. He’s not making a sound on purpose. He’s hunting.】 【I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if Zoey hadn’t run in time.】 【This is just like last time. Zoey didn’t know about Mark, and he stabbed her to death right outside her own door. And her sister, Ava, just listened to her scream for help and never, ever opened the door.】 【Her and Mark are both murderers!】 【Damn right! And after everything Zoey’s done for her. Zoey, you can’t let her get away with this!】 【Seriously, I’m so pissed. When you get out of this, you have to cut her off. A backstabbing bitch like that doesn’t deserve to be your sister!】 I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, my eyes burning with rage. Growing up, Ava had always been the sweet talker, the master of getting me to take the fall for her. When we were eight, she was playing with matches and set the house on fire. When I rushed in to try and put it out, she shoved me right into the flames. I was almost burned alive. Afterwards, she told Mom and Dad it was my fault. To this day, any time I make a mistake, they bring that up. When she was sixteen, she ran away from home because our parents wouldn’t let her date some older guy. She begged me to go with her because she was scared. A month later, she snuck back home without me and tearfully told our parents that I was the one who forced her to run away. They made my life a living hell for a month. But I always thought it was just petty, stupid stuff. I never imagined she would actually try to get me killed. She didn’t want to get a job after college, so she moved in with me, mooching off me while I cooked for her, took care of her, supported her. And this is what I get in return? My open heart for a knife in the back. My hands curled into tight fists. The hallway was still silent. Hiding in the stairwell, I quietly pulled out my phone and called Ava. The comments flickered in confusion. 【What is she doing? Is she really calling her sister to warn her?】 【Zoey, Ava is the reason you’re in this mess! Forget about her!】 【You’re too nice! That’s why she got you killed all those other times!】 【No, don’t do it! Just let Ava die. People like her just make the world a worse place anyway!】 The light from my phone screen illuminated the small, dusty space around me. Ava picked up, her silence on the other end heavy with guilt. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Your food’s here. Open the door.” I could hear Ava’s ragged, panicked breathing. “Zoey, I’m sorry, I was wrong! I didn’t actually order any food!” “Mark said he wouldn’t let me go. I thought… I thought you could help me. He wouldn’t hurt you, right? Can you just talk to him for me? Please?” “Mom and Dad always said you have to take care of me because you’re the big sister! You can’t just leave me to die!” 2 I bit down hard, my teeth grinding together. Before I could say a word, she hung up, probably terrified of what I was about to scream at her. So Ava knew everything. She was deliberately sending me to my death. The comments were even more furious than I was. 【Is Ava even human? How can she say that with a straight face?】 【The audacity. He’s an unstable maniac with a knife, and she tricked Zoey into facing him alone. That’s not just messed up, that’s attempted murder!】 【She’s a monster. Zoey, if you make it out of this alive, you have to disown her. For good.】 I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to calm down. Panicking wouldn’t help. The only way to survive was to get out of the building as fast as possible. If I stayed here, Mark would find me eventually. Steeling myself, I started to creep silently down the stairs. But just as I took the first step, the stairwell light flickered on without warning, blinding me. My first thought was: I’m screwed. The light from the stairwell would bleed through the door’s window, creating a bright rectangle in the otherwise pitch-black hallway. It was like painting a target on my back. A second later, I heard it. The sound of footsteps in the hall, slow and deliberate, like death itself approaching. I didn’t think twice. I flew down the stairs, taking them two, three at a time. Behind me, the stairwell door slammed shut. Mark was coming after me. While running, I managed to dial my mom, my voice trembling. “Mom, you have to come help me! Ava… Ava is trying to get me killed!” My mom’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “Don’t you start with that attitude, Zoey. I ask you to do one simple thing—watch out for your sister—and this is how you behave?” “Ava has always been a good girl. You’re the one who’s always causing trouble. How dare you say something like that about her? Stop calling me in the middle of the night with this nonsense!” She hung up. I tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail. A wave of despair washed over me. It was always like this. If Ava said it, it was gospel. My words meant nothing. They still meant nothing. Our apartment was on the eighth floor. The ceilings were high, making the stairs long and steep. But I couldn’t stop, I just ran, my lungs burning, the metallic taste of blood filling my throat. I stumbled several times, nearly tumbling head over heels. The sound of his footsteps was a death knell behind me. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. Only when I reached the ground floor did I dare to glance at the comments again. My heart plummeted. 【ZOEY, DON’T GO DOWN!!!】 【Mark padlocked the main entrance when he came in! You can’t get out that way!】 I skidded to a halt, my legs turning to jelly. The sound from the stairwell behind me was a terrifying promise. A dead end. I was trapped. The footsteps grew closer, closer. In my mind’s eye, I could already see the cold glint of the knife in his hand. In a panic, I burst out of the stairwell and into the lobby. The main door was just as the comments had said—a heavy padlock gleamed on the handles. No way out. My eyes darted to the elevator. It was a long shot. I sprinted inside, frantically mashing the buttons for every floor. But I knew I couldn’t actually take the elevator. Mark was right behind me. He’d catch me before the doors could even close. It would be a steel coffin. Just as the doors began to slide shut, I slipped back out and dove headfirst into one of the large trash bins in the lobby. The comments seemed to hold their breath with me, the stream of text freezing for a moment. A minute later, Mark emerged from the stairwell. Through a crack in the lid, I saw him standing in front of the elevator, his head tilted back, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers lighting up above the door. He was watching it, trying to figure out which floor I’d gone to. My heart hammered against my ribs, but a wave of relief washed over me. Thank god I hadn’t taken the elevator. It looked like he’d bought it. He thought I’d gone back up. This building had another exit. The elevator went down to the underground parking garage. If I could just get back to it, I could escape. But just as Mark seemed ready to head back up the stairs, my phone—my goddamn phone—started ringing at full volume. 3 My heart leaped into my throat. The cold sweat returned, soaking through my clothes. Who the hell was calling me in the middle of the night? Mark stopped dead in his tracks. His cold, dark eyes scanned the lobby, zeroing in on my location. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I almost gagged from fear. I clamped my hand over my mouth, my terrified eyes watching as he turned and walked directly toward me. He stopped about six feet away and bent down, picking up my shrieking phone from the floor. I must have dropped it when I jumped into the bin. I watched in horror as Mark answered the call and put it on speaker. Ava’s annoyed voice filled the silent lobby. “Zoey, why are you calling Mom and Dad? I just asked you for one little favor!” “I swear, you’re doing this on purpose. You’re what, twenty-five? And you’re still tattling to our parents? What is wrong with you?” If Ava were standing in front of me right now, I would have ripped that lying mouth right off her face. How could she? She was the reason I was trapped here, hunted like an animal. The comments had come back to life, and they were a torrent of fury. 【THAT BITCH AVA DID IT ON PURPOSE!】 【She was afraid Mark wouldn’t be able to find Zoey, so she called to give away her position!】 【How can a person be this evil?】 I forced myself to stay calm, to stay silent, pressing my hand harder against my mouth. Mark stood there, holding the phone, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he toyed with the knife in his other hand. The sight sent a chill down my spine. Ava’s voice continued, oblivious. “Oh, by the way, remember you can take the elevator down to the parking garage to escape. Mark would never think of that!” The comments were practically screaming. 【WELL, HE KNOWS NOW, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!】 【I hope you die in Zoey’s place! I’m so angry I could spit!】 【And to think, last time, after Zoey died, that bitch got away with it. Her parents hired the best lawyers and she walked free. It makes me sick.】 Hearing that, Mark let out a low, guttural laugh. “Oh really? You think she can still run?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a piercing shriek. “Mark! If you want someone, go after Zoey! Don’t come after me!” “We’re broken up!” Ava hung up. Mark pocketed my phone, then slowly walked over to the electrical panel on the wall and yanked it open. I knew instantly what he was going to do. A second later, he took his knife and sliced through the main wires, plunging the entire building into absolute darkness. The only light came from the eerie green glow of the emergency exit signs. An icy dread crept through my veins. He had truly cut off every single escape route. The elevator wouldn’t work. I couldn’t get out of the building. I was completely and utterly trapped. Fear made the world spin, dark spots dancing in my vision. I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my thigh, the sharp pain the only thing keeping me conscious. If I made a sound now, Mark would find me in the dark. And then he would kill me. The lobby was a black void. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. The faint moonlight filtering through the glass of the main door was just enough to silhouette Mark’s hulking frame. He took a few steps toward me, his presence a suffocating weight in the darkness. His voice was a rasp, laced with chilling malice, and it sounded like he was whispering right in my ear. “I know you’re in here.” 4 For a second, my legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed inside the bin. He knows. He knows I’m in the trash can. What do I do? If he finds me now, I’m dead. It’s over. My eyes were locked on the shadowy figure in front of me. He slowly raised his arm, his hand reaching for the lid of my hiding spot. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. Cold sweat poured down my back. I held my breath, praying with every fiber of my being. Don’t open it. Please, God, don’t open it. Just then, a man’s voice echoed from the fire stairwell, laced with curses. “For fuck’s sake, a power outage?” “My AC just died! I’m roasting in here!” It was another resident! A surge of hope shot through me. If that man came down here, I could scream, I could point Mark out. I would be safe. Mark heard it too. He retracted his hand and moved to stand by the stairwell door, knife raised. He was waiting. If that man came down, Mark would lunge. My heart sank. What if Mark killed him? An innocent man, dead because of me. If I screamed now, the man would live, but I would die for sure. But how could I just sit here and let someone walk into a slaughter? Thankfully, the man seemed to just be venting his frustration. After a few more muttered curses, the stairwell fell silent again. He must have gone back to his apartment. The comments let out a collective sigh of relief with me. 【That was too close. I really thought that guy was about to get shanked.】 【But what about Zoey? It’s so dangerous for her out there alone, and now she’s completely trapped.】 Just then, Mark moved. But this time, he didn’t come for me. He pushed open the stairwell door and headed back up. As the heavy door slammed shut, the tension in my body finally broke. I gasped for air, my lungs aching. The comments relaxed too. 【Thank god. He must think Zoey went upstairs after all.】 【I really hope she makes it this time. Last time, after she died, her own mother left her body at the morgue and didn’t even claim it. Instead, she spent a fortune on lawyers to get that monster Ava off the hook.】 【It’s so tragic. Nobody in that family gives a damn about Zoey. You’re better off alone, Zoey!】 Reading those words, a cold fury settled deep in my bones. I clenched my fists. Whatever happened before, it didn’t matter. This time, I was going to live. Gritting my teeth, I pushed open the lid, climbed out of the trash bin, and followed Mark back into the stairwell. The comments erupted in shock. 【Whoa, Zoey’s got balls! What is she doing following him?】 【This is a bad idea! What if he turns around? She was safe downstairs!】 【Oh god, it’s so dark in there. This is terrifying.】 I ignored the stream of text, focusing all my energy on listening, my breath held tight in my chest. Soon, I heard his footsteps echoing from above. Mark was going up. I crept silently to the second-floor landing. Just as I suspected, he had jammed something in the door handle, locking it from the stairwell side. He was clearing the building floor by floor. Since I was trapped, it was only a matter of time before he found me. 5 Mark was on the third floor now. I crouched on the second-floor landing, silently counting the seconds. Exactly one minute. It took him one minute to search an entire floor. Even if I tried to get help from a neighbor, he’d catch me the second I started knocking. Besides, this was a new building; half the apartments were still empty. I only had minutes. As he moved up to the fourth floor, I saw my chance and scrambled up the stairs, moving as fast and as silently as I could. I didn’t dare make a sound until I was back on the eighth floor. I crept to my apartment door and knocked softly. Silence. No response. I pressed my face close to the door, my voice a low, urgent whisper. “Ava, I know you’re there. Open the door. Let me in.” A moment later, Ava’s trembling voice came from the other side. “I’m sorry, Zoey. I can’t. I’m too scared.” I fought back a wave of rage, speaking slowly and clearly. “Do you really think you’ll survive after he kills me?” “The whole building is locked down. After he’s done with me, he’ll just wait right here for you to come out. Unless you plan on staying in there for the rest of your life, you’re next.” “If you let me in now, we can figure this out together.” Silence. My heart hammered against my ribs. It had taken me two minutes to get back up here. My time was running out. If she kept stalling, Mark would find me trapped in the hallway. This was my only chance. It was a gamble, but I had to take it. The seconds ticked by. Still no response from Ava. I kept my eyes glued on the stairwell door, mentally counting down, urging her on. “Have you made up your mind?” “This building is thirty percent occupied. If I die, there will be no one left to help you.” The next second, the stairwell door flew open. Mark stood there. He saw me, and a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “There you are.” My breath caught in my throat. I watched in horror as he advanced on me, his smile widening with every step. At that exact moment, the apartment door was yanked open. I scrambled inside and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. Ava slammed the door shut behind me, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the locks. Only when the deadbolt clicked into place did she lean against the door, breathing heavily. “Zoey… I’m… I’m so sorry.” “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just… I was so scared.” I pushed myself up from the floor and stared at her, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. “Why did you lock me out? You knew Mark was coming for you, didn’t you?” Ava’s eyes immediately filled with tears, her face a mask of pitiful innocence. “Zoey, I swear I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know. I just wanted you to talk to him for me.” “I never thought he’d have a knife…” I took a deep breath, trying to smother the fire in my chest. “Then why didn’t you call the police? Why didn’t you tell Mom and Dad?” A flicker of guilt crossed her face. “If Mom and Dad found out I was dating Mark, they’d kill me.” “Besides, you’re fine now, right? So just… don’t tell them. Please.” I shot her a look of pure hatred. Just when I thought we were finally safe, I heard a faint clicking sound from the lock. The sound of a key sliding into the mechanism. Ava’s eyes widened in terror, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. “He… he has a key!” Listening to the keys jangling outside, trying one after another, I understood. He must have gotten a master key from the building management. I forced my voice to stay level. “Help me push the sofa in front of the door! Then call 911!” Ava just stood there, paralyzed, staring at me blankly. “My… my phone is dead. I’m too scared. I can’t move.” In that moment, I honestly wanted to open the door and let Mark have her. I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Then I guess you can just wait here to die.” That seemed to snap her out of it. She scrambled to her feet and helped me shove the heavy sofa against the door. Once it was done, she looked at me wildly. “Zoey, what do we do now?” I kept my eyes on the door. “There are over eighty apartments in this building. Even with a master key, it’ll take him a while to find the right one. We have to use that time to get out.” My eyes darted to the window. “The window. There’s a maintenance pipe running down the side of the building. We can climb down.” Without waiting for a reply, I started tearing sheets and clothes into strips, knotting them together to make a makeshift rope. But just as I was finishing, Ava shoved me hard. I was already exhausted, and the push sent me sprawling to the floor. I looked up at her, my mind reeling in disbelief. She had snatched the rope. Tying it around her waist, she started climbing out the window, tossing a hasty apology over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Zoey, but I have to go first. He’s almost in!” “I can’t die. I’m too young! I want to live!” As she started to lower herself over the edge, a horrifying realization hit me. “Ava, wait! The other end isn’t tied to anything!” But it was too late. Ava, and the rope, plummeted eight stories to the ground below. The fall ended with a sickening crunch of bone on concrete. I peered over the edge. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the sky. A dark pool of blood was already spreading out beneath her. She was dead. Before I could even process what had just happened, I heard a final click from the door. Mark had found the right key. The next second, he kicked the door open, splintering the frame, and stormed into the apartment.

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1 Mia, my husband’s assistant, just stole the ten-million-dollar semiconductor deal I landed. At the celebration dinner, she boasted she was better than me and demanded I call her “Mommy.” I hurled a glass of wine in her face. “You backstabbing bitch. You stole my work. What’s there to be so proud of?” “You think I can’t get Sterling Corp. to cancel this deal right now?” But then my husband, Leo, slapped me across the face. “Just do what she says! The contract’s signed. You think you can just cancel it? Sterling Corp. is one of the biggest tech firms in the world. You think they’ll listen to you?” “Come on, everyone, a round of applause! Let’s cheer Laura on!” With the CEO backing her, Mia became impossibly arrogant, climbing onto a chair to look down on me. “Laura,” she cooed, “everyone’s watching. Don’t make this hard for me, okay?” I let out a cold laugh and pulled out my phone, dialing the chairman of Sterling Corp. directly. “Dad, I need you to come to my office. Cancel every contract, every single order.” … “Daddy, I’m so scared!” Mia actually had the gall to call my husband ‘daddy’ right then and there! She shot me a look of pure defiance. “I can’t believe the chairman of the world’s top semiconductor firm is your father. I guess that makes Leo my daddy now!” Then, turning to Leo, she simpered, “Besides, you said your dad already handed the company over to my daddy. He wouldn’t let you do something so rash, would he? Right, Dad?” Her clique of sycophants whistled and cheered. “Mia’s a legend!” “Haha, what a power move! Nothing to lose by calling him ‘daddy’!” Leo actually chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. Everyone knew he doted on Mia, spoiling her rotten. No one was allowed to so much as frown in her direction, not even me. That’s why she felt so untouchable. His face hardened as he tossed a termination notice onto the table in front of me. “Sterling Corp. is a global leader in chip design,” he sneered. “You think just because you share a last name, you’re his daughter? Today, Mia is the hero of this company, and you will do as she asks. Call her ‘Mommy,’ or you’re fired. Now.” I felt like a clown trapped in a spotlight, being forced by my own husband to call another woman my mother. They called him the “King of Silicon,” a title he only had because I, in a grand gesture to prove my love, had handed my entire company over to him. Richard Sterling, the chairman of Sterling Corp., really was my father. But our family had a strict rule: once a child came of age, they had to go out and build their own success from scratch, without revealing their identity. I’d never told Leo, but I had been secretly going to my father for deals to help him succeed. I never imagined I’d be nurturing a viper. The room buzzed with whispers as everyone waited for the punchline of their joke. “Leo himself is telling her to do it. She wouldn’t dare refuse.” “Mia’s really hit the big time. Having the CEO’s wife call her ‘Mommy’? She’ll be dining out on that story for the rest of her life!” From her perch on the chair, Mia flashed a triumphant grin, her gaze dripping with condescension. Rage boiled over, and I yanked her off that chair. “You’re not worthy!” A collective gasp filled the room. Mia hit the floor with a hard thud, wailing in pain. “Laura, are you out of your goddamn mind?” A brutal kick from behind sent me sprawling. It was Leo. Mia scrambled up, clutching Leo’s arm and sobbing. “Leo, did I do something wrong by landing this deal? This is so humiliating! And I hurt all over… I feel like I’m dying. Why is she treating me like this?” Her performance struck a chord deep in Leo’s heart. He stroked her cheek tenderly. “Mia, don’t be upset. I’ll make sure she calls you whatever you want, okay?” Then, he turned on me, his eyes blazing. “Laura, you’re not going to do it, are you?” He barked at the others. “What are you all standing there for? Hold her down! Make her apologize to Mia and call her ‘Mommy’!” Instantly, the women who were always kissing up to Mia swarmed me. I fought back, but I was outnumbered. They pinned me to the floor, their weight crushing me. “How dare you touch Mia.” “Don’t you know? In Leo’s eyes, Mia’s sweeter and knows how to get what she wants. That makes her more important than you.” Their words were like gasoline on a fire. “This is my company! I built it! Is this a mutiny?” For a second, they all froze. But Mia, ever the actress, started fanning the flames again. “Leo, it’s fine if she kills me. But you… you work yourself to the bone for this company, day and night. She doesn’t appreciate you, and now she’s claiming the company is hers? How can anyone be so cruel?” Leo’s face flushed with rage. “Who told you to stop? This company is mine, and I call the shots!” “Make her say it!” A heavy force slammed my head against the floor. Once. Twice. The sharp, coppery tang of blood filled the air. “Call her Mommy, do you hear me?” “We only listen to Mia and Leo! Got it?” My head was splitting open, the pain a white-hot agony that ripped through my nerves. I had given him the company because he’d told me he was afraid I’d leave him if my business became too successful. I couldn’t bear to see him sad, so I handed it all over, telling him I would work for him from now on. My father had been furious, warning me against it. We fought, nearly severing our relationship, but I was blinded by love and ignored him. Now his words echoed in my head: You can never see what’s truly in a person’s heart. The rage and betrayal gave me a surge of impossible strength. I threw them off me. “Leo, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building this company! It’s mine, and I’m taking it back!” That only made him angrier. “You’re going to turn on me over this? Just because I asked you to call her ‘Mommy’?” “Laura, I am the legal owner of this company now. On what grounds do you think you can just take it back?” I pulled out my phone and brought up a copy of the transfer agreement I’d made him sign. “Who said once it was yours, it was yours forever?” “It’s written right here, clear as day: The first party reserves the right to reclaim ownership of the company at any time.” I’d put that clause in thinking of him. If he, being inexperienced, ever ran into serious trouble, I could take the company back and bear the consequences myself, protecting him from ruin. He was, after all, the husband I loved more than anything. I never thought I’d be using it against him. I expected him to be speechless, to finally apologize. Instead, Mia let out a cold, knowing laugh. “See, Leo? I told you. I knew she’d regret it someday.” Before I could process what she meant, Leo took out his own phone and showed me the official, hard-copy agreement. “Open your eyes and look closely. That clause isn’t here.” My world tilted. A buzzing filled my ears. I remembered it all in a flash. After drafting the agreement on my computer, I showed it to Leo, explaining my good intentions with the reclamation clause. He was so moved he agreed immediately and asked Mia to print it out for us to sign. “Mia,” I seethed, my eyes burning holes into her. “This was you, wasn’t it?” When we signed, I was so full of love and trust for Leo that I never doubted either of them. “I was just looking out for Leo,” she said with a shrug. “And look, you did go back on your word, didn’t you? Besides, it’s your own fault for not reading the fine print.” “You monster!” I lunged at her, wanting to tear her apart. “Hold her down!” Leo roared. His loyal cronies grabbed me again, pinning me to the floor, a foot planted firmly on my back. “You have some nerve, Laura. Accusing Mia when you’re the one with ulterior motives.” “Call her ‘daddy,’ or I’ll let them beat you to death. Try me.” “Stop!” A powerful voice cut through the chaos. I looked up. It was my father. He had gotten my call and rushed over. Richard Sterling. The chairman of the most advanced chip design firm in the world. He was in the city for a conference and must have been so worried he came alone. Tears welled in my eyes. “Mia, was it?” my father boomed, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you have any idea who you’re messing with? You want to be my grandmother?” “Let go of my daughter! This is assault, and I’m pressing charges! I will sue every single one of you!” He shoved them away and helped me to my feet. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Dad’s here. I’ll make them pay. Not a single one of them is getting away with this.” The room fell into a stunned silence. “That’s Laura’s father?” “No way… is that really Richard Sterling?” Leo’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “Laura, if he were your father, don’t you think I would have met him by now?” Confusion spread through the crowd. I scoffed silently. My father, despite his status, rarely made public appearances. And because of the family rule, children building their careers couldn’t return to the fold until their companies hit the billion-dollar mark. That’s why he wasn’t even at my wedding. “Because I never told you,” I said, my voice cold. “He is my father. And he’s the man behind Sterling Corp., the company you’ve been so desperate to work with.” Mia gasped. “You’re saying he’s really Richard Sterling?” “Now get on your knees and apologize!” I roared. But her shock quickly morphed into a sneer. “Oh, give me a break.” “You knew we’d never met him, so you hired an actor to play the part, didn’t you?” she accused, her voice ringing with false confidence. “Everyone on the planet wishes they were Richard Sterling’s kid. If you really were, you think you could have kept it a secret this long?” Her cronies chimed in. “Yeah, if my dad was Richard Sterling, I’d have it tattooed on my forehead.” “She really thinks sharing a last name makes her royalty.” Leo’s jaw was clenched in fury. “You’d go this far just to avoid calling her ‘Mommy’? Have you no shame?” “Get this impostor out of here!” As they moved toward my father, I threw myself in front of them. My dad had disapproved when I gave Leo the company, and he’d been furious when I came begging for contracts for Leo’s sake, calling me a fool. But in the end, he was still my father, and I was still his daughter. He always gave in. Since Leo was still so stubbornly blind, I would have my dad cancel the deals right in front of his face. “Dad, I was wrong,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. You were right about him.” “It’s okay, sweetheart. Dad will always have your back.” My father took out his phone. “This is Richard Sterling. As of this moment, Sterling Corp. is terminating all contracts and partnerships with Apex Innovations. Effective immediately.” “I can afford the penalty fees.” Then he turned to Leo, his voice laced with ice. “This company belongs to my daughter. If you don’t hand it over, I will find the best lawyers on the planet and I will sue you into oblivion.” But Leo, pushed past his breaking point, snatched my father’s phone and smashed it on the ground. “Laura, how long are you going to keep this act up? You’re disgusting!” A wave of shock rippled through the room. No one had ever dared to treat my father like this. “Leo, you have no idea what you’re doing! You’re playing with fire!” my father roared. In response, Leo swung his arm back and slapped my father across the face. The sound was a sharp, deafening crack. “You old man,” Leo spat. “You think you can scare me?” “You didn’t want to leave? Fine. Beat him until he can’t stand!” In a heartbeat, Mia’s friends and the men in the room dragged my father to a corner and began to beat him with their fists and feet. He was in his fifties; he was no match for a mob of twenty-somethings. They treated him like a stray dog. A knife twisted in my gut. I screamed and tried to get to him, but the remaining few held me back. “Leo, he really is my father! You’re signing your own death warrant!” “Let him go! Let my father go!” I thrashed against their grip. Leo stared at me, his face a mask of resentment. “Mia is young and beautiful, and she cares about her image. What would it have cost you to stroke her ego and call her ‘Mommy’? You can call this fraud ‘daddy,’ but you can’t do that one small thing for her?” His voice rose with fury. “You want to protect this impostor? Fine! Then you can watch while I teach him a lesson!” Mia ran over to join them, shouting for them to strip my father naked. As he struggled, she grabbed a chair and brought it down with sickening force across his lower back. He collapsed, unable to move. Then, Mia grabbed his pants and yanked them down, turning away with a mock blush. The crowd erupted in cruel laughter. “Hahaha, old man! That’s what you get for lying!” “Ha!” Leo clapped, applauding her actions. My father is my world. Seeing him like this, a primal rage erupted in me, hot and blinding. I fought with everything I had. Leo struck me, a blow so hard my head spun. “What are you screaming for? This is what you get for trying to trick me! Now watch.” Seeing Leo’s approval, Mia’s cruelty escalated. She demanded my father kneel and act like her dog. When he resisted, she smashed a beer bottle over his head. Blood sprayed across the floor. Her cronies forced him to his knees. She lifted her foot, digging the heel of her stiletto into the gash on his head. “Bark! I said bark!” Bloody footprints smeared the floor. I couldn’t imagine how much blood he’d lost. I felt something break inside me. I was going to be sick. Just then, an employee from the business department burst in, looking panicked. “Leo! I—I just got a call. It’s real. It’s from Sterling Corp. They said they’re canceling everything, at any cost. Analysis shows… our losses will be in the hundreds of billions…” Leo’s jaw dropped. He turned and stared at me, his face a canvas of pure shock.

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From the moment I was born, I knew I deserved the best. In my modest adoptive family, they called it “Princess Syndrome.” My adoptive mother saved for months to buy a silk blouse, then locked it away. I’d wear it secretly under my uniform. When caught, I’d lose dinner—so I’d find her hidden snacks and eat them all. My adoptive father claimed he couldn’t afford tutoring, yet kept expensive liquor and cigarettes. I took some and sold them to the corner store owner. With the money, I enrolled in the best prep course and bought imported stationery. Once, my grandmother hid two chicken drumsticks for her biological grandson. At the table, I calmly took both for myself. “I study the hardest,” I said. “I need the nutrition.” They called me selfish, ungrateful—a princess without the pedigree. I never argued. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, a black Maybach arrived outside our old apartment. My real parents—the wealthy Sterlings—had found me. Watching the shock and fear on my adoptive family’s faces, I felt completely calm. It wasn’t Princess Syndrome. I was a real princess all along. … Sliding into the back of the Maybach, I felt no unease. Seated next to me was the girl the Sterling family had raised for eighteen years as their own, Anabelle. “You must be Vivian,” she said, her voice soft. “It must have been so difficult for you all these years.” She took my hand. Hers was soft and delicate; mine had a thin layer of calluses from years of writing. I didn’t answer her question about “difficulty.” Instead, I gently pulled my hand away and traced the edge of the window frame. “This car is due for a service,” I said calmly. The driver’s hands twitched on the wheel, and the car swerved almost imperceptibly. My mother, Eleanor, turned from the front seat to look at me, her eyes wide with surprise. Anabelle’s smile froze. “What did you say, Vivian?” “I said, this car is due for a service,” I repeated. I pointed to an air vent. “The air filter needs changing, too. I can smell fine dust in the air.” A dead silence fell over the car. My father, Richard Sterling, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at me properly for the first time in the rearview mirror. His eyes were sharp as a hawk’s, filled with scrutiny and intrigue. Anabelle’s face cycled through shades of pink and white. She had likely expected a country mouse, either timid and stuttering or gaudy and materialistic. She had a whole script of condescending comforts prepared, and I had just rendered it all useless with one quiet observation. She forced a laugh. “You know so much, Vivian. Unlike me, I just know how to ride in a car.” “That’s alright. You can learn,” I replied, looking her directly in the eye. My tone was sincere. “After all, representing the Sterling family is a heavy responsibility. A basic understanding of luxury goods is essential. You can’t just recognize a brand name. That’s how people mistake you for new money.” A choked chuckle escaped the driver. A sharp glare from Richard in the mirror silenced him instantly. Anabelle’s smile completely vanished. My mother, Eleanor, finally spoke, her voice laced with a complex emotion. “Vivian, dear… how do you know all this?” “If you want to know something, there are always ways to find out,” I answered, my tone light. I didn’t tell them that with the money from my adoptive father’s secret stash, a small portion that wasn’t spent on tutoring went to buying every fashion, automotive, and financial magazine I could get my hands on. The Sterling mansion was perched atop Silvercrest Peak, a breathtaking display of wealth and power. The butler and a line of staff were already waiting at the entrance. “Welcome home, Miss Sterling,” they chorused. I accepted their greeting without flinching. Behind me, Anabelle’s nails were digging so hard into her palms they nearly drew blood. For eighteen years, that title had been hers. The welcome-home dinner was a lavish affair. Eleanor led me into a walk-in closet with three walls lined with haute couture gowns and designer bags. “Vivian, this is all for you. Pick whatever you like.” Anabelle followed us in. “Mother,” she said sweetly, “Vivian just got here. She might not be used to such formal clothes. I have some simpler dresses in my closet. Perhaps she’d like to try one of those first?” She reached for my arm. I sidestepped her touch, my gaze sweeping over the magnificent gowns. From a corner, I pulled out a simple, elegant white dress. “This one,” I said. Eleanor paused. “But Vivian, that’s so plain. It was meant for everyday wear.” “It’s fine. I prefer simple.” A flicker of triumph crossed Anabelle’s eyes. “Yes, Mother, whatever makes Vivian happy. Simple is more approachable, anyway.” I met her fake smile with a cold one of my own. The ballroom was a galaxy of shimmering lights and expensive perfume. I stood by Richard and Eleanor’s side in my simple white dress. Anabelle, in a frothy pink Dior gown, moved like a proud peacock among her flock of friends. It wasn’t long before they descended upon me. The leader of the pack, a girl named Mina, was Anabelle’s chief sycophant. She looked me up and down with an exaggerated laugh. “Anabelle, is this really your long-lost sister from the countryside? She looks so… quaint.” The others giggled, their laughter dripping with unconcealed superiority. Anabelle feigned annoyance. “Mina, don’t be rude. This is my sister.” Then she turned to me, her face a mask of apology. “Vivian, don’t mind her. She just says whatever she thinks.” Before I could reply, another girl chimed in. “Anabelle, you’re just too nice. So, Vivian, where did you live before? Was it like one of those places they do fundraisers for on TV?” The laughter grew louder. I saw my father, Richard, across the room, deep in conversation with several business tycoons. He glanced over, a slight frown on his face, but made no move to intervene. He was testing me. I took a deep breath and smiled, a warm, harmless expression. “Yes, the place I grew up was small and rundown. Nothing like this.” I admitted it freely, my voice quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear. The smirks on their faces widened. Then, I changed my tone. “But because of that, I learned to appreciate things. Unlike some people, who are born in Rome but treat it like their personal playground, squandering everything without a second thought.” My gaze rested gently on Anabelle. Her smile froze. Mina’s face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean? Who are you talking about?” “I’m not talking about anyone,” I said, still smiling. “I’m just stating facts. For instance, I know my father is in talks with Mr. Lin of Lin Corp, a project vital to Sterling Group’s next five years. I also know that Mr. Davies’s company stock has been unstable and he’s in desperate need of a capital injection. And I know that Mr. Cole’s son”—I gestured to a young man in their group—”lost an eight-figure sum in Macau last month and still hasn’t told his family.” My voice was calm, but with each sentence, the air grew colder. The Cole heir’s face turned sheet white. Mina and her friends were no longer laughing. They stared at me as if I were some kind of monster. Before I arrived, I had spent the afternoon with the butler, memorizing the portfolio he had prepared on every single guest attending that night. I walked over to the utterly stunned Anabelle and, with a small smile, straightened a crease in her gown. “Sister, thank you for this lovely party. But as daughters of the Sterling family, our words and actions reflect on our name. Joking with friends is one thing, but if a few harmless jokes were to jeopardize Father’s business deals, or worse, expose a friend’s private struggles, that wouldn’t be very wise, would it? After all,” I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “we can’t just wear the pretty dresses the family provides without doing anything to benefit the family, can we?” My words were soft, but they landed like a slap across her face. She wanted to make a fool of me. So I showed everyone who the real fool was—the one who knew nothing but parties and pleasure, contributing nothing to the family that gave her everything. The mood of the party shifted. The group that had been mocking me now watched me with a new expression, a mixture of fear and curiosity. Richard Sterling walked toward me, a glass of wine in his hand. He studied me for a long moment, then addressed the nearby guests. “Everyone, this is my daughter, Vivian. She’s just returned home and is still learning the ropes. Please excuse her if she seems a bit rough around the edges.” His words were apologetic, but his face held no apology at all. In fact, there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. I knew I had passed the first test. Anabelle’s face was a storm of emotions. She forced a smile and linked her arm through mine, a picture of sisterly affection. “Yes, my sister is a quick learner. I’m sure the two of us will be a great help to Father in the future.” I smiled and let her cling to me. The game had just begun. Halfway through the party, it was time to cut the cake. A massive, three-tiered creation was wheeled out. Richard gave a short speech welcoming me home, thanking the guests—the usual pleasantries. Then, he handed me the cake knife. “Vivian, you cut the first slice.” As I reached for it, under the watchful eyes of every guest, Anabelle suddenly cried out, “Oh!” She stumbled as if losing her balance, and the full glass of champagne in her hand flew directly at me. I had no time to dodge. The cold liquid soaked the front of my white dress, a sticky, unpleasant sensation. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Vivian! I didn’t mean to!” Anabelle exclaimed, dabbing at my dress with a napkin, only succeeding in smearing the stain into a large, ugly yellow blotch. The room erupted in gasps. Everyone was staring at my predicament. It was a perfectly orchestrated “accident.” She had chosen this moment to ruin my spotlight, to make me the laughingstock of the evening. Eleanor rushed over. “Oh dear, what a mess! Come, Vivian, let’s go upstairs and change.” I looked up at Anabelle’s face, a perfect portrait of innocence and guilt, but I could see the glint of triumph hidden deep in her eyes. I gently pushed her hand away, shook my head, and then smiled at the room. “It’s alright. Just a little accident.” I turned to the butler. “Alfred, would you please bring me the black dress from my wardrobe? It’s the third one from the left. Thank you.” The butler, after a moment’s surprise, nodded. “Of course, Miss Sterling.” While I waited, I didn’t scurry away in embarrassment. I stood my ground, even picking up a small pastry from a tray. My composure surprised those who were expecting a scene. Anabelle tried to speak several times, but my calm gaze silenced her. Soon, Alfred returned with a dress box. I took it and offered an apologetic smile to the guests. “If you’ll excuse me for five minutes.” I didn’t go upstairs. I walked into a small parlor adjacent to the ballroom. Five minutes later, when the parlor door opened again, the entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath. All eyes were on me, filled with astonishment. I had replaced the stained white dress with a sleek, black velvet gown. The cut was simple but impeccably tailored, accentuating my slender, poised figure. My hair was swept up in a simple twist, revealing the long, elegant line of my neck. Most importantly, I had put on makeup. Before coming to the Sterlings, my makeup consisted of cheap products from a discount store. But I had spent countless nights practicing, studying magazines and videos. I knew how to use the simplest techniques to maximize my features: my cool, clear eyes, my straight nose, and a striking slash of red on my lips. If the girl in the white dress was an unpolished wildflower, pretty but forgettable, the woman before them now was a black rose, blooming in the dead of night—mysterious, dangerous, and utterly captivating. I walked slowly to the cake and took the knife from my father’s hand. My eyes swept across the room, finally landing on the pale, stunned face of Anabelle. I raised the knife and sliced cleanly through the cake. Then, I looked up, and a brilliant, radiant smile lit up my face. “Thank you all for coming tonight. Please, enjoy the party.” I knew that from this night forward, no one in this city’s elite circles would ever dare to underestimate the “country girl” again. After the party, my position in the Sterling household underwent a subtle but significant change. The staff treated me with a new level of respect, one born of fear rather than duty. Eleanor’s attitude shifted from cautious guilt to genuine affection and reliance. She started taking me on shopping sprees, showering me with jewelry, as if trying to make up for eighteen years of absence in a matter of weeks. And Richard, my father, began discussing company matters with me at the dinner table, quizzing me on finance and market trends. I answered every question flawlessly. The approval and satisfaction in his eyes grew with each passing day. All of this sent Anabelle into a full-blown panic. She felt her world crumbling. She started mimicking me, a desperate attempt to regain our parents’ attention. I woke up at 6 a.m. for a morning run; she dragged herself out of bed, only to collapse in exhaustion after two days. I read the financial news; she ostentatiously carried around a copy of The Wall Street Journal, but when I asked her what “quantitative easing” was, she couldn’t utter a single word. I took the keys to the Porsche Panamera in the garage, the one she had coveted for years. The next day, she threw a tantrum until Richard bought her a newer, more expensive Ferrari. He bought it for her, but the displeasure on his face was obvious. I knew Anabelle had lost her footing. In the eyes of a businessman like Richard, the choice between a daughter who could only cry and demand, and a daughter who could bring tangible value to the family, was crystal clear. I, on the other hand, never asked for anything. I simply accepted what they offered, and then, in my own way, I showed them that their investment in me was worthwhile. For example, the family chef prepared the freshest Norwegian salmon every day. Anabelle disliked raw fish, so most of it used to go to waste. I made a point of finishing my portion every single time. Eleanor noticed and said, her voice full of tenderness, “Vivian, if you like it so much, I’ll have the kitchen make more for you.” I shook my head. “That’s not necessary, Mother. The standard portion is perfect. The finest ingredients, like the finest things in life, are best appreciated with precision and control. Too much of a good thing becomes tiresome. Just like affection.” My words were pointed. Eleanor froze, a thoughtful expression on her face. From that day on, the kitchen never prepared an excess portion of salmon again. When Anabelle later whined that she wanted some, Eleanor replied coolly, “Resources in this house are allocated based on need. If you want something, you must request it in advance. We don’t waste things.” Anabelle stormed off and smashed something in her room. I knew this was just the beginning. I was going to take back everything that was supposed to be mine, piece by piece. Not just material possessions, but the power to set the rules in this house.

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When the elevator jolted, a sickening lurch, and the first person my boyfriend shielded was his assistant. Meanwhile, I, his actual girlfriend, was left to crumple in the corner, my arm fractured and forgotten. And in that single, clarifying moment, I knew. Whatever love I had for him was gone. On my phone screen, a cloyingly sweet post from Lila’s Instagram feed glowed back at me: “Life is only whole when you’re in it.” I felt nothing. I calmly liked the post and left a comment: “His left jawline is sharper. Try that angle next time.” Then, I opened the documentary about the Northern Lights I’d been meaning to watch for ages and finished it alone. It wasn’t until I was about to sleep that I noticed the fifty-plus missed calls on my phone. A text from him followed. “Lila’s young, she’s just dramatic. Don’t let it get to you. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll do a proper birthday celebration.” I didn’t reply. My mind was filled with the dancing auroras from the film, and a single thought crystallized with perfect clarity. Go chase the light. Don’t stay trapped here anymore. … The next day, Ethan never showed. It was exactly what I expected. I felt no disappointment. Instead, the first thing I did when I got to the office was hand in my resignation letter. Then I booked a flight to Iceland, departing in ten days. I’ve always been swift and decisive in everything I do. It was only in love that I’d allowed myself to be dragged down, indecisive and weak. In ten days, it would have been my five-year anniversary with Ethan. A fitting end to it all. A clean break. On the third night, Ethan stumbled through the door, smelling of whiskey. He stood by the entrance for a long moment, clutching his coat. He was waiting for me to rush over, to take his jacket and fetch his slippers like I always did. But I didn’t move. He found me curled up on the sofa, planning my trip. He shook his head and chuckled. “Still mad at me? Is that why you’ve been giving me the silent treatment?” He loosened his tie, his voice laced with an easy arrogance. “Alright, I’m home now. My head’s killing me. Go make me some of that porridge.” He entertained clients often and refused to take anything to protect his liver. I had once gone out of my way to get a special recipe for a stomach-soothing porridge. Every time he came home drunk, a warm bowl would be waiting for him. I was trying to decide on the third stop of my itinerary and answered without looking up. “There are hangover pills in the nightstand. Take one if you feel sick.” The living room fell silent. I belatedly looked up. Ethan’s face had hardened. “Sloane, there’s a limit to this childish behavior.” “Lila is all alone in this city. She has no one to look after her but me.” “Can’t you be a little more generous? Are you really going to be jealous of a kid?” He seemed to have forgotten that Lila, his “kid,” was only four years younger than me. I raised my bandaged arm. “It’s not me being childish. It’s the fractured arm. I can’t cook. But if you’re really craving that porridge, why not invite Lila over? I can walk her through the recipe.” He froze. In the past, the mere mention of her name would make me lose control. Now, I was calmly suggesting she come cook for him. “Is your arm… okay?” His tone softened. “Lila was feeling unwell that day. She said she has severe claustrophobia, so I wanted to get her to the hospital first, then I was going to come back for you…” His voice trailed off as he met my gaze. Lila just had claustrophobia. She would have been fine once she was out of the elevator. As for him “coming back,” it sounded like a pathetic joke. He coughed to cover his embarrassment and produced a takeout container. “I remembered you love truffle risotto. I brought this specially for you.” “Doctor’s orders. I have to avoid mushrooms. They’re bad for the healing process.” Rejected again and again, the man who had always held the upper hand in our relationship finally lost his patience. “Unbelievable. You’re impossible!” He slammed the container into the trash can and stormed into the bathroom. His phone buzzed on the coffee table. I picked it up without thinking. The screen lit up with a notification. It was a message from Lila. “OMG, the boss’s treat is the best! That risotto was heavenly. Soooo good!” Another message followed. “To show my eternal gratitude, I’ll cook you a feast fit for a king sometime soon!” I glanced at the risotto container sitting in the trash and couldn’t help but let out a small, bitter laugh. The next morning, I was up early, putting on my makeup, ready to go out. Ethan woke up. “Where are you going on a weekend?” “Company retreat.” I paused at the door. “Oh, by the way, if Lila is moving in, you should probably buy some new condoms. The ones in the drawer were expired. I threw them all out.” Without a backward glance, I walked out and pressed the elevator button. The architecture firm where I worked was male-dominated, a fact that had always bothered Ethan. For five years, he had constantly urged me to quit. To put his mind at ease, I had cut off nearly all social contact outside of work. I’d never once attended a team-building event, not even the annual holiday party. Over time, I became the unapproachable loner in the eyes of my colleagues. Since I was leaving anyway, I made an exception and joined the three-day retreat. As I finally let myself relax, playing games, barbecuing, and chatting with everyone, I realized how friendly they all were. When I mentioned my travel plans for Iceland, Carla, a senior designer, gently patted my shoulder. “A young woman like you should be out seeing the world. Don’t keep yourself caged in.” I clutched my cup of juice, my fingertips suddenly cold. “You’re right. I’m only just realizing how many sights I’ve missed all these years.” For a relationship with no future, I had nearly missed out on the entire world. During the retreat, Ethan’s messages were relentless: “Are you having fun? Who are you with?” “Where are you staying tonight? Do you want me to come keep you company?” “When are you coming back? Should I pick you up?” “Why aren’t you answering me?” My phone screen lit up again and again inside my backpack. I remembered how, in the past, I would proactively share my entire itinerary whenever I traveled for work, terrified he might misunderstand something. But when I needed the same sense of security from him, he would always say: “Everyone needs their own space, Sloane. You can’t make me your entire life.” I got home late. To my surprise, Ethan was waiting in the living room. “So, you finally decided to grace me with your presence?” he said, his voice sharp. I dropped my luggage, exhausted. “There was an accident on the road. We were delayed.” He shot up from the sofa. “I’m asking why you ignored my messages for three days! Have you decided to start playing the silent treatment game now?” It hit me then. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand how much that kind of coldness could hurt someone. It was just that for all these years, he had been the one using it on me, watching me toss and turn at night, only to finally accept my timid apologies. “I was just busy with the retreat. I didn’t have time to reply,” I answered calmly. “You, of all people, should understand. After all, it was always your excuse.” I turned and went into the bathroom. When I came out, the living room lights were dimmed, and red wine swirled in two glasses on the table. “The documentary you’ve been wanting to see,” he said, his tone much softer. “I’ll watch it with you tonight.” I shook my head, overcome with weariness. “I already watched it. On my birthday.” Without a second glance at his frozen expression, I walked into the bedroom and locked the door. In the middle of the night, I was startled awake by the violent slam of the front door. The next morning, Ethan was gone. As soon as I got to the office, Carla came over with a smile. “Sloane, about that Iceland trip you mentioned… my nephew happens to be going in a few days too. You two might be able to look out for each other on the road.” Her enthusiasm made me hesitate, but she quickly convinced me. “He’s a professional travel blogger. He’s amazing at planning itineraries. With him as a guide, you’ll have a much easier time.” She clapped my shoulder cheerfully. “It’s settled, then! I’ll have him add you on social media.” My initial reluctance faded. Truthfully, planning a long-distance trip by myself was stressful. I hadn’t traveled for years, and a flicker of anxiety mingled with my excitement. That afternoon, I took time off to attend my university’s alumni day. In front of the administration building, a group of students was taking photos. A man in a sharp suit and a girl with a radiant smile on his arm stood out from the crowd. “Kiss her! This is for the campus couples feature!” someone shouted. Amid the catcalls, the girl blushed and stood on her toes. The sunlight cast a golden halo around them, a picture-perfect scene from a teen movie. “Isn’t that Ethan Vance? He was the big man on campus back in our day. Still has it, I guess,” an old classmate next to me remarked. The comment made Ethan turn his head. The moment our eyes met, a flash of panic crossed his face. He instinctively started to walk towards me, but Lila tightened her grip on his arm. She whispered something to him, and he stopped. My phone vibrated. A message from Ethan. “Don’t misunderstand. I was just helping a student with a photo shoot.” I didn’t reply. I followed the others into a familiar teahouse. As we chatted, my old classmates asked how I was doing. I held my teacup and replied softly: “Single.” Someone immediately jumped in. “You should take a page from Ethan’s book. Find someone young and lively. Look how perfect he and his little girlfriend are together.” I smiled. “Yes. They do make a beautiful couple.” As the words left my lips, I saw Ethan standing right behind me. His face was dark. I had no idea how long he’d been listening. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice clipped. I found it almost laughable. In five years, he had never once publicly acknowledged our relationship. I remember once, for his firm’s annual gala, I’d dressed up to surprise him. In front of everyone, he introduced me as just “a friend from college.” And now that I was finally playing by his rules and drawing a line, he couldn’t handle it? “Is there something you need, Ethan? This is a class reunion. I don’t think this is the right place.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Lila’s bright voice cut through from the doorway. “Ethan! Everyone’s waiting for you!” He gave me one last, deep look before she pulled him away. After the alumni events ended, I was saying goodbye to my classmates at the gate when a familiar car pulled up silently beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Ethan’s tense profile, cold and hard in the evening light. “Get in.” Exhausted from the long day, I didn’t want to argue on the street. I quietly opened the door and got in. The air in the car was thick with unspoken tension. Before, I would have desperately tried to fill the silence, and he would have cut me off with a frown. “Sloane, can you just be quiet for a minute?” This time, I took out my phone and calmly scrolled through the fresh “couple photos” of him and Lila on the campus forum. Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt. Before I could react, he was leaning over me, his hand clamping down on the back of my neck. We had been together for five years. We’d been wild in this car countless times; it had once been our favorite private space. But now, the image of him kissing Lila in the afternoon sun flooded my mind. I shoved him away, throwing open the door. I stumbled out and retched on the pavement, my body heaving. My stomach spasmed, but only bitter bile came up. Ethan stood by the car, his face shifting from ashen to ghostly white under the streetlight, a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes. I pulled myself up, wiping my mouth. “You see that? That’s the physical reaction I have to you now. We’re over…” Before I could finish, he slammed the car door and sped away, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. That night, Ethan, who never posted anything personal, shared an intimate photo of himself with Lila. The caption read: “Finally found the right one.” Congratulations from our mutual friends instantly flooded the comments. My phone buzzed incessantly with concerned messages. I didn’t answer any of them. I made myself some bacon fried rice and, surprisingly, had a great appetite. Late that night, the dip of the mattress woke me. A shadow loomed in the darkness. I almost screamed. “Don’t be scared. It’s me.” I let out a breath of relief, then rolled over, turning my back to him. He flicked on the bedside lamp. The harsh light blinded me. He leaned over me, his eyes bloodshot. “You didn’t see my post? You have nothing to say?” I was exhausted and had no energy for his late-night drama. “I saw it. Congratulations.” His breath hitched. His voice suddenly dropped, laced with a hint of vulnerability. “When I used to come home late, you’d always leave a light on for me… Now you don’t even call.” “Lila and I are just… it’s a mentor-mentee thing. If it bothers you, I’ll have her transferred to another department tomorrow.” I just looked at him, feeling nothing but tired. I once cried and begged him to care about me just a little more, and he always told me I was too clingy. Now that I was letting go, he was tripping over himself to be attentive. Too bad. My flight was in two days. He was a man I no longer wanted. And anything he had to offer, I no longer desired. After that night, Ethan was like a different person. He not only had Lila transferred, but he also replaced his female assistant with a man. Every night he had a work dinner, he would proactively send me his location and photos, though I never responded. The new, young male assistant came by the apartment to pick up a pair of shoes and told me with a cheerful grin, “Ma’am, tomorrow is your five-year anniversary! Mr. Vance has a huge surprise planned. You have to keep your schedule free!” Five years. It was certainly a milestone that deserved a proper goodbye. I opened the couple’s location-sharing app we hadn’t used in ages and followed the pin to the most luxurious hotel in the city.

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A murder in the city. A city-wide APB. But Lila Monroe, a precinct intern, secretly replaced the bulletin with a love letter to my husband, Detective Mark Vance. The internet erupted. Criticism and outrage flooded in. “A love confession on an APB?” “So unprofessional!” “Misuse of public resources! Neglect of duty!” “He’s married—is he having an affair with the intern?” “Disgusting!” “I hope his wife, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, takes a scalpel to them both!” My husband was suspended. I watched silently. Because in my last life, I caught Lila’s scheme early. I stopped her, reported it, and she was fired. Drunk and devastated, she fell into a river and drowned. My husband blamed me for her death. Later, during a case, I was taken hostage. Mark didn’t try to save me—he provoked the kidnapper, cornering him. I bled out on a dirty floor, a knife in my chest. Watching from above, I saw no grief on Mark’s face—only savage satisfaction. “Evelyn,” he spat at my body, “if not for your pettiness, Lila would be alive!” “It was just a love letter! Was her life worth taking for that?” “You owed Lila a life. Today, you paid.” Mark packed my ashes into fireworks and set them off over Lila’s grave. I could not rest. Then I opened my eyes—and was reborn. 1 I was back. One year earlier. Sitting in the task force briefing room. The entire department’s most urgent priority was solving the “927 Homicide.” A beautiful university student, out for a nightly jog, had been dragged into a park, assaulted, and brutally murdered. The case sent shockwaves through the city. Public outcry was deafening, and our superiors demanded a swift resolution. As the Captain of the Homicide Division, my husband, Mark Vance, was under immense pressure. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice raw from consecutive sleepless nights. There were no surveillance cameras on the section of road where the attack happened, making the investigation incredibly difficult. But after extensive canvassing, the team finally found a blurry image of the suspect, captured on the dashcam of a car that had passed the park at the time of the incident. The resolution was terrible, a mosaic of pixels that completely obscured his face, but it was our only lead. Mark was in the middle of dictating the details for the APB. “Suspect is a male, estimated age between 35 and 45.” “Gait analysis shows a slight inward turn of the left foot. Stride is average, pace is brisk.” “Wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, dark blue cargo pants…” “A fifty-thousand-dollar reward is offered for any information leading to the arrest of the suspect…” Mark spoke slowly and meticulously. When he finished, he looked at Lila, who was taking notes. “Lila, you get all that? This APB is critical to the case. There can be no mistakes. Every single word has to be one hundred percent accurate.” Lila had just graduated and was still an intern. “Got it, Captain! Your voice is so steady… so magnetic. I wasn’t just listening with my ears; I was listening with my heart.” Her eyes shone with undisguised adoration. “Hehe, just the sound of your voice could give a girl chills… the good kind.” She was openly flirting with him, right in front of me, his wife. It was clear she saw me as nothing more than thin air. “That’s enough nonsense. Get to the comms room and issue it, now!” Mark feigned a reprimand, but there was no heat in his words. Only indulgence. It was precisely this indulgence that had allowed the little troublemaker to become more and more reckless, daring to pull a stunt of this magnitude. “On it!” Lila chirped sweetly. “Captain, I promise to complete the mission you’ve given me!” She grabbed her notepad and skipped off to the communications room. As she passed me, she shot me a smug little arch of her eyebrow. That triumphant look was identical to the one in my memories from my past life. In my previous life, shortly after she left, I’d remembered we needed to add information about the suspect’s shoes to the APB. I’d chased her down to the comms room and found her in the middle of altering the bulletin. She had deleted the entire suspect description. And replaced it with a fawning tribute to my husband. I had been furious. I stopped her immediately, saving the department from humiliation and preventing Mark from becoming a public laughingstock. Professionally and personally, my conscience was clear. I was defending the dignity of the law and protecting my family. How was it my fault that Lila, consumed by shame, got drunk and died? But what did it get me? Only in my last life, as the killer’s knife pierced my chest, did I finally see Mark’s true face. My husband was a man incapable of reason, devoid of gratitude. He was a monster in a policeman’s uniform. I had saved him, and in doing so, destroyed myself. The memories of my past life were like a corpse preserved in formaldehyde, every detail painfully sharp. Reborn, I wouldn’t be so foolish again. So this time, I did nothing. I let Lila work her mischief. I glanced at Mark’s profile. A cold smile played on my lips. Mark, your world is about to come crashing down. After Lila left, the case meeting continued. Mark picked up the autopsy report I had submitted. “Dr. Reed, based on the victim’s wounds, can you determine the type of weapon used?” Though we were married, in public, we always addressed each other by our professional titles. We kept things separate. Except when it came to that little siren, Lila. Then, all of Mark’s principles vanished. I had worked overtime to complete that report; I could recite it from memory. “The wound edges are serrated. I suspect the weapon was something like a butcher’s knife or a boning knife.” Mark nodded. “That suggests the killer likely works as a butcher, a chef, or in a similar trade. That’s the demographic we need to focus our search on.” Mark dispatched officers to canvass businesses near the crime scene. A moment later, Lila breezed back in. A thick cloud of perfume preceded her. Female officers rarely wore perfume. Especially us in forensics. To avoid compromising an autopsy, we wore no cosmetics at all while on duty. Lila, with her heavy makeup, overpowering scent, and uniform blouse paired with black stockings and high heels, was an anomaly. But as Mark’s gaze fell on her, his tired eyes suddenly lit up. Pathetic. Let a man think with his dick, and his brain turns to mush. “Lila, is the APB out?” A grin spread across Lila’s face. “It’s up, Captain! Want to check your phone and see how it looks?” Mark waved a hand dismissively. “No need. I trust you to get it done.” Lila’s smile widened. She turned and brought in a large bag filled with bubble tea and pastries. “Everyone’s working so hard. I ordered some treats for you all.” The team swarmed around her, praising her for being so thoughtful. Lila came from a wealthy family and was always generous, buying loyalty with small gifts and favors. That, combined with Mark’s blatant favoritism, had made her the precinct’s pet. “Captain, I brought you this ginseng from home. You need to take care of yourself. It breaks my heart to see you so worn out.” She handed him a box of expensive supplements. Her words were a cocktail of flattery and thinly veiled insults aimed at me. “Not like some people, who can’t even look after their own husband. So incompetent.” She was always doing this, trying to drive a wedge between us. In my past life, I would have argued back. But now, I acted as if I hadn’t heard a thing, my head bowed over the case file. In my last life, this case was never solved. It went cold. The victim’s parents lived in a state of perpetual grief, and the case became a stain on the city police department’s record. Since fate had given me a second chance. I wouldn’t just change my own tragic destiny; I would find a way to solve this case. To get justice for the victim and bring peace to her family. A mean-spirited person like her only feels a sense of accomplishment when her provocations get a reaction. My impassive silence clearly disappointed Lila. Her eyes darted around, and a new, malicious idea took root. Swaying her hips, Lila brought a cup of bubble tea over to my desk. “Dr. Reed, I got this for you. I made sure to tell them no ice. I know how you older women are always afraid of the cold, not like us young girls who don’t have to worry about such things.” It was another direct provocation. Even Mark looked uncomfortable. He started to speak, but couldn’t bring himself to scold her. He just pursed his lips and pretended to be deaf. I remained unmoved. “No, thank you. I don’t like sweet drinks.” Lila’s hand froze in mid-air. Her eyes reddened as if she’d suffered a terrible injustice. “Dr. Reed, did I do something wrong? Is that why you won’t take it?” Mark immediately forgot Lila’s provocation and turned on me. “Evelyn, Lila was being nice. Why do you have to be so rude?” “We’re colleagues in the same unit. You need to show some solidarity.” Emboldened by his support, Lila pushed her luck. She deliberately tried to force the cup into my hand. “Come on, Dr. Reed. Don’t be like that.” Her back was to the others. Only I could see the scheming look on her face. “Oops!” She “accidentally” tilted her hand, spilling the hot tea all over the back of her own. Like a seasoned actress, tears instantly welled in her eyes. “It’s burning!” Mark rushed over, grabbing her hand and blowing on it tenderly. “It’s all red!” “Does it hurt?” “Should we go to the hospital?” Tears streamed down Lila’s face. “Captain, I… I’m fine… sob…” This only made Mark more distressed. He spun on me, his voice a roar. “Evelyn, you’ve gone too far!” “This is workplace harassment, you know that?” “Apologize to her! Right now!” “Don’t think you get special privileges just because you’re my wife!” The rest of the team gathered around, siding with Lila. “Dr. Reed, even if you don’t like Lila, you can’t bully her like this.” “She’s just a kid.” I ignored them and looked straight at Mark. “Captain Vance, you remember I’m your wife? You remember you’re a married man?” “For a moment there, I thought you’d developed amnesia.” “Or are you also a child who doesn’t understand professional boundaries?” “And as for special privileges, I wouldn’t dare claim any. The only person here who gets to wear stockings and heels to work is Lila.” A flush crept up Mark’s neck. “Evelyn, don’t change the subject! We’re talking about you harassing a colleague!” “I didn’t harass her. I never touched that cup. If you don’t believe me, have the forensics unit dust it for my prints.” “I’m a medical examiner. Trying to frame me is a losing game.” Lila’s face paled slightly. She had clearly forgotten she was in a police station, a place where evidence was everything. Framing someone wasn’t so easy here. So she just cried harder. “Captain, it was… I was clumsy… I spilled it myself…” “It’s just… Dr. Reed glared at me. She’s so intimidating. It scared me.” “She works with dead bodies all day. Who wouldn’t be creeped out?” “I’ve heard old folks say that women who are always around corpses carry a dark energy. It brings bad luck. Curses their husbands and children. They either can’t have kids, or they die in childbirth, and their husbands are destined for disaster…” When framing me failed, Lila resorted to curses. It was a vile thing to say. It wasn’t just an insult to me; it was an insult to the sacred profession of forensic pathology. What is a forensic pathologist? We are the ones who stand beside a cold steel table and scrape a killer’s skin cells from under a victim’s fingernails. We are the ones who find trace amounts of poison in decaying flesh to reconstruct how a victim was murdered. We are the ones who painstakingly compare wound patterns to sketch the murder weapon, leaving a killer with nowhere to hide their methods. We don’t deal in “dark energy.” We give the dead their final chance to speak. We face cold bodies. But we protect the burning heat of justice. The falsely accused are exonerated by our reports. The victims who cannot rest in peace find justice when our expertise forces a killer to confess. These hands of mine have touched dismembered bodies and examined bloated corpses. But they are clean. And they will not be defiled. In the eyes of a forensic pathologist, the dead are never what’s truly frightening. It’s the living. Corpses never lie. Only living people spew poison. Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. She could covet my husband. That man was rotten to the core anyway. I no longer wanted him. But she would not slander the profession I had dedicated my life to. CRACK! I raised my hand and slapped Lila hard across the face. “Lila Monroe, you watch your damn mouth.” A red handprint bloomed on Lila’s delicate cheek. I could see the flicker of triumph in her eyes. She’d been hit, but the homewrecker had achieved her goal of provoking me. Of course, she didn’t show her delight. She clutched her face, the tears falling even faster. “Captain!” “Does Dr. Reed really hate me this much?” “What did I ever do wrong?!” How could a woman like her, who knowingly pursued a married man, have the audacity to play the victim? Mark, like a protective mother hen, rushed forward and pulled Lila into his arms. Then he shoved me violently away. “Evelyn, are you insane? Why are you being so barbaric?!” “I’m barbaric?” I stared at him, a cold, humorless laugh bubbling up. “You’re a police officer. Don’t you understand the importance of forensic science?” “The filth she just spewed, was that human? And you just let her?” “Mark, you’re headed for disaster!” “But it won’t be because of me. It will be because of this little troublemaker.” Mark’s face was beet red. He knew perfectly well that what Lila had said was superstitious nonsense. But he couldn’t bear to see her punished by me. So he gritted his teeth and stood his ground. “Evelyn, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill!” “Lila is just a naive girl. She speaks her mind, that’s all. What trouble could she possibly cause?” He was still trying to defend her when an officer, staring at his phone, froze. He rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, then looked again. Finally certain it wasn’t a hallucination, his voice trembled. “Captain! You need to see the official site! Now!” “The APB… there’s a problem with the APB!” Mark was startled. “What kind of problem? A typo?” He took the officer’s phone. One look, and the color drained from his face. I pulled out my own phone and opened the webpage. The page that should have contained the suspect’s information now displayed a few lines of sickeningly sweet text. “Captain, I know you have a wife, but I can’t stop myself from loving you.” “Every time I watch you catch a killer, I think you’re so handsome!” “I’m willing to wait for you, even if I have to be your shadow for the rest of my life. I have no regrets.” “Love, your kitten, Lila Monroe.” It was identical to the letter from my previous life. Not even a single punctuation mark was different. I looked at my petrified husband. Let’s see you get out of this one, Mark. The rest of the team had now seen the altered APB online. The normally bustling precinct fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. It was as quiet as the vacuum of space. Homicide detectives are a hardened bunch. They can face murder and arson without batting an eye. But now, every face in the room was grim. Many had broken out in a cold sweat. This was a catastrophe. Though it had only been online for half an hour, it had already gone viral. It wasn’t just the hundreds of thousands of hits and tens of thousands of shares and comments on the official site. It had been reposted across every social media platform. #APBloveletter was trending. The comments were a tidal wave of condemnation, sarcasm, and outrage. “My God! I’ve seen it all now! A police APB turned into a love letter? Are they treating this murder case like a joke?” “So irresponsible! Someone needs to file a complaint for this gross negligence!” “The victim isn’t even cold in her grave, the killer is still out there, and you’re pulling this disgusting stunt? What do you think her family feels right now? You’re just rubbing salt in their wounds!” “The killer must be laughing his ass off.” “Is this a police department or the set of a cheesy drama?” “I suggest a thorough investigation into this Lila Monroe. Bet she got the job through connections!” “This is a gross misuse of public resources! Dereliction of duty!” Of course, a few outliers tried to defend her. “I think it’s kind of romantic.” “Yeah, a girl has the right to pursue love.” This, naturally, was met with even fiercer backlash. “Romantic? The detective is married! This is an affair with a homewrecker!” “This is messed up!” “I heard his wife is the Chief Forensic Pathologist. I support her taking a scalpel to these two degenerates!” “Pursuing love is one thing. Pursuing an adulterous affair is unforgivable!” Mark finally snapped out of his stupor, roaring like a cornered lion. “What the hell is this?” “Who changed the APB?!” “Lila, did someone mess with you? Who was at the comms computer? Did someone threaten you?” He stared at her, wide-eyed. Everyone knew what had happened. But Mark was still trying to shift the blame, to protect Lila. But Lila was a spoiled, reckless brat. Seeing Mark’s frantic state, she wasn’t scared at all. In fact, a radiant smile bloomed on her face, and she giggled. “I did it myself, Captain.” “Surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you?” She took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with a manic obsession. “I love you, Captain!” “So what if you’re married? I have the right to love you! And I want the whole world to know how I feel!” “Don’t listen to those boring people online! Homewrecker? In love, the one who isn’t loved is the third wheel!” “You’re not happy with Evelyn. Only I can save your lonely soul!” She turned, her eyes flashing with defiance as she declared war on me. “Dr. Reed, I hope you know when to quit. You need to face reality.” “You might be able to keep his body, but you’ll never have his heart!” “Mark’s heart is filled with me, Lila Monroe. There’s no room for you anymore.” “You’re the unloved one in this marriage. You’re the real third wheel. If you have any sense, you’ll leave with your dignity intact.” “You can’t beg for love. Don’t use a marriage certificate to hold Captain Vance’s happiness hostage.” “Set love free!” She spoke with righteous conviction, as if she were the heroine of this story. I’d met my fair share of mistresses, but Lila was the first one I’d ever seen who was so shameless, so fearless, who wore her homewrecker status like a badge of honor. She was a complete failure of moral education. But then again. If her worldview wasn’t already twisted into a pretzel, she never would have been stupid enough to swap a wanted poster for a love letter. Lila was still ranting. I remained calm. But Mark had heard enough. He understood perfectly the catastrophic consequences this would have for him. “Lila, shut up!” “You’re insane!” Mark’s hands were trembling with rage. “This is an APB! It’s for catching a murderer! You turned it into a love letter! What will the public think of this department?” “How am I supposed to explain this to my superiors?” “You’ve ruined me!” Seeing Mark genuinely furious, Lila finally realized she’d gone too far. A flicker of panic crossed her face, but there was no remorse. Instead, she immediately put on a show and started to cry. “Captain, I just love you so much, I wasn’t thinking straight… Please forgive me this one time, okay?” “I promise I’ll be good next time, okay?” Her tears were like a fire extinguisher, instantly dousing the flames of Mark’s anger. He was still furious, of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to scold her further. He let out a long sigh. “Lila, what am I going to do with you…?” “Go back to the comms room, delete the letter, and post the real APB. Then issue a press release.” “Just say… just say the website was hacked. That it wasn’t our fault.” Seeing that Mark was no longer raging, Lila’s face broke into the sly, triumphant smile of a fox that had just stolen a piece of rotten meat. I had remained silent throughout Lila’s tirade. I hadn’t argued with her. Not because I couldn’t win, but because her words were so utterly debased. Arguing with trash like her would only lower myself to her level. What was the point of arguing with a shameless creature who had no regard for the law and zero moral compass? It would be like barking back at a rabid dog on the street. But when I heard Mark’s crisis management plan, a cold smile touched my lips, and I finally spoke. Because his plan was even stupider. It would do even more damage to the department’s reputation. “Mark, do you really think that excuse will work? Do you think the public will believe it?” “And what if they do? What’s worse than them not believing it?” “If the police department’s own website can be hacked, if we can’t even secure our own digital territory, how are we supposed to protect the public? That would be an even greater embarrassment!” “Have you lost your mind?” “Instead of taking that ginseng, maybe you should try eating some pig brains!” “The only thing you can do now is issue a public apology! And then you fire this troublemaker, Lila Monroe!” “Someone with such a blatant disregard for discipline has no place in this department!” “The only way to restore the department’s honor is to focus on catching the killer, and fast!” My words were sharp and merciless. Mark was speechless, his face flushing red, then pale. He was furious. “No matter what, we are not firing Lila!” “She just made a mistake! A warning will be sufficient!” “I’m the Captain, and what I say goes!” This man was a lost cause. Even now, he was still protecting and covering for this reckless girl. Just then, the door swung open, and the Chief of Police walked in, his face a thundercloud. “This is an absolute disgrace!” “Lila Monroe, pack your things and get out! Now!” “We have no room for a liability like you in this department!” Lila panicked and grabbed Mark’s arm. “Captain, save me!” “I don’t want to leave you! I can’t!” A muscle twitched in Mark’s jaw. Though nervous, he spoke up for her. “Chief, this was her first offense, and she’s still so young. Can’t you give her another chance?” “You can’t fire her!” The Chief slammed his hand on the table. “Mark, have you lost your mind?” “Do you have any idea how bad this looks?” Mark dug in his heels. He pulled out his badge and slapped it on the table. “Chief, the public is just looking for entertainment. This is a big deal now, but in a few days, there will be a new scandal, and they’ll forget all about it. Who’s going to care?” “We’re police officers. As long as we catch the killer, we haven’t failed in our duty.” “If you insist on firing Lila, then I’ll resign too. I’m partly responsible for this, after all.” “Lila and I will take responsibility together. That’s only fair.” “But the department is already short-staffed. If I leave, this case will be even harder to solve, and the killer will be harder to catch. That would be truly irresponsible to the victim’s family.” “And the public will be even angrier then.” He was using the case to threaten the Chief. Lila’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Mark’s hand. “Oh, Captain, you’re so good to me!” “I knew I wasn’t wrong to love you!” “If you resign, so what? My family owns a company. You can be a manager at my parents’ firm. It’s a much better job than being captain of this stupid precinct!” Mark was one of the best detectives in the city. The Chief was in a bind. The rest of the team immediately chimed in. They had all benefited from Lila’s generosity in the past, so of course, they sided with her. “He’s right, Chief. Lila is usually a hard worker. She just messed up this one time. She’s young, give her another chance. Don’t be so harsh.” “We’re in the middle of a major case. We can’t afford to lose anyone, especially not Captain Vance’s leadership.” The Chief frowned and looked at me. “Dr. Reed, what are your thoughts?” He knew my relationship with Mark, which is why he asked for my opinion.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387199”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel