1 The day my father and his ex-girlfriend made headlines at a gala, everyone was laughing at my mother. She had given up a flourishing career to be with a man from a powerful dynasty, only to spend thirty years without a title, without a ring, without even the right to call out his mistress. After a long cry, my mother looked at me, her eyes clouded with exhaustion. “He betrayed me first,” she said softly. “So I’m done with him.” She took my hand. “Ellie, will you come with me?” Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from John, my boyfriend of seven years. [Elara, it’s just a piece of paper. Can’t you still be my girlfriend?] I stared at the screen for a long moment, then slowly nodded at my mother. And so, on the day of their wedding, my mother and I vanished in the flames of the villa. … The second I saw the news alert, I rushed home. My mother was sitting by the window, gazing out at the rose garden she and my father had planted together. “Ellie, he lied to me.” Her voice was a fragile whisper. “He promised that once he had full control of the Torrence empire, he would marry me.” “I waited thirty years, Ellie. And what I got was the news of his wedding to Isabelle.” I knelt beside her, taking her cold hands in mine. “It’s just tabloid gossip, Mom. We don’t know if it’s true.” “Remember how Grandpa and Grandma threatened to disown him, and he still wouldn’t leave you? Now that they’re gone, why would he abandon you?” She picked up an embossed invitation from the table and handed it to me, a bitter smile twisting her lips. “Mr. Peterson, his assistant, delivered this. He said he hoped I would be prepared, and that I wouldn’t… make a scene.” “He feels sorry for Isabelle, for the son she raised all alone,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “But did he ever once think about me? I gave up everything for him. I was willing to be his wife in all but name for three decades!” “And my daughter… my daughter has been called a bastard for over twenty years!” “And in the end, all I get is a warning not to ‘make a scene’?” A son? So that was it. That was why my father was breaking his promise to my mother. Because Isabelle had secretly given him a son, an heir to the so-called family empire. And to fulfill his ridiculous sense of ‘responsibility,’ he was going to make my mother bear the weight of his betrayal? My mother broke down, pulling me into a desperate hug. “He broke his promise,” she sobbed, “and he expects everything to just stay the same.” “But I am not a mistress. And my daughter is not a bastard.” She pulled back, her fingers gently tracing my face. “Ellie, will you leave with me?” “Or will you stay here, in Northgate, with that Smith boy?” At the mention of John, I glanced down at the message on my phone. [Elara, it’s just a piece of paper. Can’t you still be my girlfriend?] I forced a smile and hugged my mother back. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “I’m your daughter, Mom. Of course, I’m going with you.” “As for John and me… there’s nothing left.” My mother’s tears stopped. She looked at me, her face etched with worry. “What happened?” “You and John were together for seven years. How could he…” I gave a humorless laugh, locking my phone. “Thirty years meant nothing to my father. What’s seven years to John?” “The Smith and Bishop families have a major joint venture in the works.” “John already agreed to the arranged marriage. Their wedding is on the fifteenth of this month.” “And as for me… he said everything could stay the same.” My mother’s face flushed with anger. “Stay the same?” “He wants you to be his mistress! That boy has some nerve!” “This is all my fault,” she whispered, fresh tears streaming down her face. She held me tighter, murmuring apologies over and over. “It’s because of me that you can’t even have a normal relationship.” I stroked her back, my own tears falling silently. “Mom, this was never our fault.” “Maybe it’s better that we found out now. We can leave this place and start over.” “Okay?” After I settled my mother in her room, I drove back to my apartment. The moment I opened the door, I saw them. John and Kate Bishop, standing in the middle of my living room. “Ellie, you’re back,” John said, a relieved smile on his face. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to throw away what we have.” My eyes fell to the wedding band on his finger, and a sarcastic smile touched my lips. “John. You’re wearing your wedding ring, with your future wife, trespassing in my apartment.” “You can’t possibly expect me to be happy to see you, can you?” Hearing the ice in my voice, John rushed to explain. “Ellie, why don’t you understand? I’ve told you a hundred times, marrying Kate is temporary.” “The partnership between our families is out of my hands. And Kate said… she said she’s willing to accept your presence.” Kate stepped forward then, looking down her nose at me. “John’s right.” “Miss Torrence, you may not be aware, but I’ve seen plenty of girls like you in our circles.” “As long as you don’t cause too much trouble, I won’t have to get my parents involved. I can even put in a good word for you with the Smiths.” Her condescending gaze swept over me. “After all, being a Torrence is one thing, but being a Su is quite another.” The blatant insult was the final straw. I grabbed a glass of water from the table and threw it in their faces. “Ah!” Kate shrieked. John fumbled for a tissue, frantically dabbing at her face. “Elara, are you insane?” he yelled. “You’re the ones who are insane!” I shot back, my eyes cold. “Miss Bishop, are you deaf or just stupid? John and I were in a serious relationship for seven years. And now I need your acceptance?” “Did you ask for my permission before putting on this pathetic little play in my home?” “Now get out of my apartment. Both of you!” Enraged, Kate stormed up to me. “What are you so proud of, Elara?” “Your mother shamelessly latched onto the Torrences for years without a marriage license to her name. Now that Mr. Torrence is marrying Isabelle, what is your mother but a common mistress?” “Like mother, like daughter. You were born to be a mistress!” “If John hadn’t begged for you, you’d never even get a foot in the Smith family’s door!” SLAP! Before she could finish, my hand connected with her cheek. The next second, John shoved me. I stumbled backward, my head cracking against the corner of a table. I clutched my forehead, the room spinning. “Elara, don’t you dare go too far!” John snarled, protectively shielding Kate. “Don’t you get it yet? Once Mr. Torrence marries Isabelle, you and your mother will be nothing but a shameful mistress and her bastard daughter.” “With a background like yours, you’re not even worthy of being a kept woman!” “It’s Kate who is being generous, tolerating you for my sake.” “If you don’t learn your place, don’t blame me for what happens next.” “What happens next?” I laughed, a low, hollow sound. I pushed myself up from the floor and, without a second thought, hurled the empty glass at his head. It shattered on impact, leaving a trail of blood on his forehead. Kate screamed, threatening to call the police, but one look from me and she fell silent. “John, you brought another woman into my home without my permission,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “That’s breaking and entering. I’m the one who should be calling the police.” “And I don’t need her ‘generosity.’ Consider my last seven years a gift to the dogs.” Dazed, John stumbled toward the door, but not before firing one last shot. “Elara, take a good look at yourself. Do you really think you’re fit to be the lady of the Smith family?” “I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back to me!” The moment the door slammed shut, my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the floor, silent tears streaming down my face. John and I had known each other since we were kids. Seven years together. He knew everything I liked, celebrated every anniversary, and was always there when I needed him. I thought I had found the person I would spend my life with. We had dreamed about our future together countless times. But he knew how much I despised infidelity. And yet, for such a pathetic reason, he tried to force me into that very role. All those years… it was all a joke. He used to say he didn’t care about anything else, as long as he had me. Now, he was telling me to question if I was even worthy of being his wife. The thought gave me a surge of strength. I got to my feet and looked around the apartment. From the photo albums to the trinkets and stuffed animals, every single thing had been chosen by us together. He had called it our “little home,” excitedly asking for my opinion on every detail, buying everything I loved. “Ellie, no matter how mad you get at me in the future, you have to look at all this effort and give me one more chance, okay?” That’s what he had said, holding me, teasing me. But I had been serious. “That depends on what you do. If you do the one thing I hate most, I will never, ever forgive you.” He had sworn up and down, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. “That will never happen. If it does, I’ll go to Lover’s Leap where we had our first date and jump off to atone for my sins! Then you can burn my body and scatter the ashes!” The memories were a knife in my heart. I picked up my phone and made a call. “Yes, sell the apartment. As fast as you can.” I had everything ready. Plane tickets for my mother and me were booked. But my father’s assistant found out. He stationed bodyguards outside our house, watching us day and night. Even on the day of his wedding, he was determined to force us to attend. When we arrived at the reception, the guests stared. “It’s Mr. Torrence’s wedding day. How dare they show their faces here?” “Isn’t it obvious? They’re shameless. They must have insisted on coming.” “An actress… did she really think she could marry into the dynasty?” “And her daughter is just as bad. Tried to snag the Smith heir, but he was just playing with her.” “I heard the Smith boy is getting married today, too.” “Yes, to the Bishop girl. A perfect match. A girl like her is completely out of his league.” The whispers and judgmental stares followed us everywhere. I looked at my mother with concern, but she just squeezed my hand, her grip firm. “Don’t worry about me, Ellie.” Her voice was calm. “It took thirty years to see him for who he really is. It’s a high price to pay, but at least my eyes are open now.” “From now on, we live for ourselves.” The grand doors opened. Isabelle, radiant in a white gown, walked down the aisle. My father, dapper in a tailored suit, watched her approach, his face filled with a tenderness I had never seen. Their son, Julian, placed Isabelle’s hand in my father’s. “Dad, I’m entrusting Mom to you now.” “She suffered a lot to raise me all these years. I hope you’ll treat her well.” A look of pride crossed my father’s face. He clapped Julian on the shoulder. “Listen to you, lecturing your old man.” “Don’t just talk about me. You need to work hard, too.” “One day, the Torrence empire will be in your hands.” It was a picture of familial bliss, and the guests murmured in appreciation. Then, my father’s gaze fell on us. “And another thing,” he said, his voice carrying across the hall. “Your Aunt Liana has been with me for many years. You will show her the proper respect in the future.” “What is rightfully yours will be yours.” “But don’t get any foolish ideas. I know where to draw the line.” The warning was clear. The scornful, suspicious looks returned. I squeezed my mother’s hand back. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a video. On the screen, John was gazing into Kate’s eyes, making a solemn vow to her parents. “Mom, Dad,” he said earnestly. “You have my word. I will take good care of Kate. I will never let her suffer, not for a single moment.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Mr. Torrence, you can spare us the sanctimonious act.” “If my mother were the kind of gold-digger you seem to think she is, she wouldn’t have wasted thirty years on you.” “I have no interest in the Torrence name, and neither does my mother.” “You can keep your so-called empire for your precious son.” My father’s face contorted with rage. He clearly hadn’t expected me to cause a scene. “Insolence!” he roared. “This is not the time or place for your theatrics!” “If you don’t want to be here, then take your mother and get out!” A group of bodyguards in black suits quickly surrounded us. They practically dragged us out and shoved us into a car, taking us back to the villa and locking us inside. As soon as the guards left, I calmly took out my phone and made a call, telling our man, Arthur, to pull his people away. Years ago, his wife and child were gravely ill. My mother and I paid their medical bills and saved their lives. To repay us, Arthur took a job as a security guard for the Torrences. I never thought we’d actually need his help. On the television in the living room, news coverage of both weddings was playing. Watching the two couples share passionate kisses, I saw that the old sadness was gone from my mother’s eyes. She looked at me with a serene smile, picking up her suitcase. “Ellie,” she said. “Let’s go.” I nodded firmly. I called the car we had waiting, and took one last look at the villa I had lived in for over twenty years. Then, I walked away and never looked back.

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1 For a decade, I’ve been GBC’s “News Queen,” yet my most frequent story is my husband’s latest affair. Tonight, paparazzi trapped him in his car with another. My phone rang nonstop—his mother demanding I protect the family name. Leaving the studio, I washed my face, forced a smile, and performed the usual damage control: pastries, calls, and checks. The paparazzi apologized to my face, but their whispers stabbed my back: “The great News Queen, still the woman everyone knows is cheated on.” He’s the man who once knelt publicly, declaring me his life’s love. He’s also the man whose mistresses now make me a citywide joke. After buying their silence, I texted him: “Give me 20% of the company stock, and you can have the Ashworth name back.” … Hank and I arrived home at almost the same time, his sports car pulling into the driveway moments after my town car. He saw me and his eyes narrowed into a lazy, charming smile. “What’s this? Angry, darling?” I didn’t bother to respond. I just pulled the divorce papers from my briefcase—papers I’d had drawn up months ago—and handed them to him. The smile evaporated from his face. He snatched the document, his knuckles white, and stormed out of the car. I followed him up the stone path. “Hank, when are you going to sign them?” He stopped dead, whirling around so fast I almost collided with him. His eyes were bloodshot with fury. “Claire, don’t you dare think you can scare me with a piece of paper. It won’t work.” He paced back and forth on the manicured lawn, his tailored suit seeming to constrict him. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, laced with that old, familiar manipulation. “Our son is seven years old. You can’t take him, you know that. Are you really willing to leave him?” Willing? Leo has been raised by Mrs. Ashworth, living in her wing of the mansion. He doesn’t call me “Mom.” He calls me “her” or “that woman.” He shows more affection to Hank’s flavor-of-the-week than he does to me, his own mother. He’s my flesh and blood. I could never understand why he hated me so much. Until I overheard him talking to his friends. “My dad married some nobody from the sticks. Why would I call her my mother? Calling her ‘her’ is already giving her too much credit.” The memory made a bitter laugh escape my lips. “He’s the designated Ashworth heir, Hank. Why wouldn’t I be willing to leave him in his rightful place?” My unyielding tone made his face darken into a thunderous mask. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron, his voice a low growl. “Claire! You don’t want a husband, you don’t want a son—what the hell do you want?” I ripped my arm free and threw my phone at him. It bounced off his chest and clattered onto the stone. “What do I want?” My voice was sharp, brittle. “Hank! You could have slept with anyone in New York City, but you had to choose my biggest rival at the network!” “The tabloids call me a saint for my patience, my colleagues call me a doormat. You’ve dragged my face through the mud, and now you’ve set it on fire!” Hank’s anger flared, but his eyes caught the phone screen, which had lit up with a crystal-clear photo of him in bed with Isabelle Vance. The fight went out of him. He sighed, a long, weary sound, and reached for me. I shoved him back, hard. That was the last straw. The charming facade shattered. “That’s enough, Claire!” he roared, his arm sweeping out and knocking over a porcelain vase on the entryway table. I stumbled backward, right into the shards. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and a moment later, a slick of crimson began to seep through the white fabric of my slacks. Hank’s eyes widened in shock. He started to reach for me, then hesitated, pulling his hand back as if burned. “My mother was right,” he seethed, his voice dripping with venom. “I’ve spoiled you. You’ve forgotten that this family’s name is Ashworth, not yours!” “You keep pushing, and I’ll have you thrown out of GBC. Don’t think I can’t do it.” He spun on his heel and stormed up the grand staircase. I stared after him, a dizzying wave of nostalgia washing over me. Everyone used to say Hank Ashworth was the kindest, most gentle man in New York society. And he was. When he loved you. When I was a scholarship kid at NYU, I was an outsider. The other students bullied me, poured soda on my textbooks, shredded my clothes. He appeared like a knight in shining armor, replacing everything, taking me under his wing. I was just a girl from the Midwest, completely lost in the big city. He was endlessly patient, coaching me, helping me lose my accent, teaching me the unspoken rules of his world. When I interned at GBC, he’d sit in the coffee shop across the street every single day, just waiting for me. The Ashworth family matriarch refused to approve our marriage. So he stood up to her in front of the entire board, forfeiting his trust fund just to be with me. Then he knelt on the pavement outside the GBC studios and proposed in front of the world. But that fairy tale lasted only two years. Then his true nature surfaced, and the affairs began. I tried to fight it at first. I screamed, I cried. In response, Mrs. Ashworth simply took my son away. As she left my room, she paused at the door, a cold smile on her face, and told me the truth. “Hank said the biggest benefit of marrying you was your background in journalism. You know how to handle a crisis. If you don’t learn to be obedient, you will never see your son again.” I questioned it, denied it, screamed until I was hoarse. It wasn’t until Hank himself admitted it that the fight finally left me. The Ashworth empire needed a First Lady who was an expert in damage control. “But you said you loved me!” I cried, my eyes raw. He cupped my face with those gentle hands, but his words were brutal. “I do love you, Claire. But I also love Lisa, and Amanda, and that dancer from the club…” It was then I understood. In his eyes, I was no different from a high-class call girl. I just had a more respectable title. A hollow laugh bubbled up from my chest. I tried to use the wall to pull myself up, but my hand slipped, and I fell back into the pile of broken porcelain. The pain made me gasp. My seven-year-old son, my Leo, just stood at the top of the stairs, watching me with cold disdain. “Grandma’s right,” he sneered. “You really are a useless waste of space.” I thought I had run out of tears years ago. But as I looked down at the blood on my leg, they came faster than the pain. I was about to tell him we were getting a divorce, that I was leaving. But then he shoved past me without a second glance, throwing himself into the arms of the woman who had just walked in. “Isabelle! You came to see me!” he squealed with delight. I smelled the familiar scent of gardenias before I even saw her face. My rival, Isabelle Vance. She’d stolen my assistant, poached my sources, and tried to take my time slot. Now, she was brazenly walking into my home to steal my son. Isabelle put on a show of mock sympathy. “Oh, Claire, I’m so sorry. Hank insisted I come over to see Leo.” The easy familiarity between them told me this wasn’t her first visit. Leo, impatient with the pretense, tugged her toward the stairs. His childish voice was laced with a poison that went straight for my heart. “Don’t talk to her, Izzy. You might catch her germs.” Isabelle shot me a triumphant smirk over her shoulder. Then, with a flick of her thumb, I knew she had just sent a video of this humiliating scene to the GBC staff group chat. A moment later, my phone began to buzz incessantly. I didn’t have to look. I could already imagine their pitying, mocking words. My son. The baby who used to gurgle with laughter in my arms, who would wipe away my tears with his chubby little hands. Now he called me useless. Dirty. And he called another woman… Mommy. I had endured seven years in the Ashworth cage. My reward was Hank’s brazen betrayal and my own son’s visceral disgust. Just then, a text from my family doctor back home lit up my screen. I’m so sorry for your loss. My mother was gone. My bloody fingers smeared streaks across my face as I tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. A strange, guilty sense of release mingled with my grief. My mom was gone. It was time for me to go, too. Sitting in the shadows of my bedroom, I pulled up a number I hadn’t called in years. I typed a single line: “Save me a spot.” The message had just sent when Hank burst into the room. He stared at me, his expression unreadable. “Isabelle is here. As the lady of the house, aren’t you going to entertain our guest?” I didn’t even look at him, my face a numb mask. “Sign the papers, and I’ll roll out the red carpet for your little whore.” “Claire!” Hank’s eyes blazed, his teeth gritted. “You’re that desperate to leave?” My gaze met his without flinching. “Yes.” He loosened his tie, a cold, humorless laugh escaping his lips. “Don’t forget, I made you the News Queen. I can just as easily break you.” “Go ahead.” Those two simple words shattered his composure. He lunged forward, grabbing me, pulling me so close I could feel the heat of his rage. His dark eyes were like burning coals. For seven years, I had seen every version of Hank Ashworth: the shrewd negotiator, the charismatic interviewee, the tender lover. But I had never seen this—this raw, uncontrolled fury. I let out a small, contemptuous laugh and slowly closed my eyes. His breathing grew ragged. I braced myself for a blow, but instead, he let me go, shoving me away. “You’ll regret this, Claire,” he said, his voice dropping to an icy whisper. “You just wait.” The punishment was swift and brutal. The next day, when I walked into the network head’s office, he threw a cup of scalding coffee at me. It missed, splashing against the wall behind me. “Claire! You’re finished!” he screamed, his face purple with rage. “GBC is terminating your contract, effective immediately! Isabelle Vance is taking over your evening news slot!” I had been expecting it. I calmly placed my employee ID on his desk. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. “You think you can just walk out of here?” Before I could ask what he meant, the glass doors to the newsroom shattered inward. A mob of people surged in, led by a screaming woman who launched herself at me, her nails raking across my face. “You bitch! Some famous anchor! You’re nothing but a high-class whore!” she shrieked. “You seduced my husband during an interview! Hold her down! I’m going to kill her!” Hands grabbed my hair, tore at my blouse. The cold air hit my exposed skin, and I started to tremble uncontrollably. “I didn’t! It wasn’t me!” I choked out, but my denials only fueled their rage. A fist connected with my mouth, and I tasted blood. It dripped from the corner of my lip onto the pristine floor. Through the chaos, I could see my former colleagues crowded outside the office, watching the spectacle like it was a zoo exhibit. And there was Isabelle, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, a smug, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She sauntered over and knelt down, her face inches from mine. “My, my. Such a tough girl. Want to bet I can make you confess in five seconds?” I spat a mouthful of blood and saliva onto her perfectly made-up face. Her smile twisted into a snarl. She slapped me, hard, then pulled out her phone and dialed a number. A moment later, Hank’s voice echoed from the speaker, a thunderclap in my ringing ears. “Do you want your mother to have a proper burial?” My blood ran cold. “Then do what Isabelle says. Confess. Give her the position.” “Hank, do you know what she’s accusing me of—” My voice broke. “I don’t care,” he cut me off, his tone utterly indifferent. “Just do whatever Isabelle wants! All that matters is that she’s happy!” The world went silent. The phone slipped from Isabelle’s grasp. She grabbed my chin, her nails digging into my skin. “Well?” she whispered, her voice dripping with triumph. “Are you going to confess?” I thought of my mother’s body, lying in a morgue thousands of miles away, her final peace held hostage. I swallowed the blood pooling in my mouth and gave a ragged, broken laugh. “I confess… I confess.” “Not good enough! I want you to slap yourself while you say it!” I looked into Isabelle’s venomous eyes. My hand felt like it belonged to someone else as I raised it and began to strike my own face, over and over. “I’m cheap… I’m a slut… I seduced him…” The rest is a blur. Flashing lights, camera lenses shoved in my face, a cacophony of clicks and shouts. Hank didn’t just want to destroy my career; he wanted to obliterate my name, to erase me from the industry entirely. This was the same man who once stayed up all night with me, brewing coffee and cheering me on when I was struggling with a script. He had witnessed every step of my rise over the past seven years. And now, he was personally orchestrating my fall. I lay in bed, ignoring the hurricane of filth and vitriol online, and stared at the ceiling, a strange, empty smile on my face. The door creaked open. Leo stood there, holding a steaming pot. For the first time in years, he looked at me and said the word. “Mom.” A flicker of warmth stirred in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak. And then he lifted the pot and threw its contents at me. The searing heat of the scalding stew was an inferno against my skin, raising blisters in its wake. Leo clapped his hands, his eyes wide with glee. “Die! A bitch like you deserves to die!” I froze, staring at him in numb shock. My own mother had just been buried, and my own son wanted me dead. Hank walked in at that moment. He scolded Leo, telling him he shouldn’t have done that. Then, just like he used to, he opened the first-aid kit and began to expertly treat my burns. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even look at him. He sighed, his beautiful, expressive eyes fixed on me. “Isabelle is pregnant, Claire. She can’t be under any stress. Let her have this. Once the baby is born, I promise I’ll get you your anchor position back.” He made his promise with such sincerity, as if he had nothing to do with the character assassination being broadcast on every channel. Whether he knew the full extent of it or not didn’t matter anymore. What I had lost, I would take back myself. For the next few days, I was a prisoner in my own home. Mrs. Ashworth would drift by to call me a useless burden and ask when I was finally going to get out of her house. I slammed the divorce papers down on the table in front of her. “The 20% stock transfer. Get your son to sign it, and I’m gone.” Before the matriarch could reply, Isabelle, who had just swept in, spoke up. “I’ll do it.” As the heiress to the Vance fortune, I knew she had the means to make it happen. The next day, two signed documents were placed in my hands: the divorce decree and the stock certificate. I had just forwarded them to my lawyer when Hank stormed in. He didn’t say a word. He just grabbed a fistful of my hair and started dragging me out of the room. “When did you become so vicious? I told you that baby is mine! How could you not spare it?” In the living room, Isabelle was collapsed on the sofa, covered in what looked like blood, clutching her stomach and wailing. When she saw me, her cries intensified. She slid to the floor and began banging her head on the marble, begging. “Claire, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have taken your job! I’ll never do it again! Please, don’t hurt my baby…” “I’m begging you! Do whatever you want to me!” Hank looked utterly devastated. He rushed to her side, gathering her in his arms. He turned to his bodyguards, his voice cold as ice. “The knife she used on Isabelle… I want her to feel the same pain.” The guards hesitated. “What are you waiting for? Do it!” Hank roared, then quickly turned his head away, as if he couldn’t bear to watch. They tied me to the bed like a rag doll. From across the room, wrapped in Hank’s protective embrace, Isabelle shot me a look of pure, triumphant malice. The bodyguard holding the knife was trembling, unable to bring himself to do it. A wild, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. With a sudden burst of strength, I lunged, snatching the knife from his hand. I locked eyes with Hank, saw the dawning horror on his face, and plunged it deep into my own stomach. Warm liquid gushed out, spattering my face. Through the red haze, my voice was a blade. “Hank, just as you wanted. You forced me to kill your son with my own hands!”

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I was working late at the office when a notification popped up on my phone: “Unusual vehicle motion detected.” A cold dread washed over me. I opened my car’s security app and tapped into the live interior camera feed. And there they were. My boyfriend, David, and my best friend, Zoe, having sex in the backseat of my car. White-hot rage flooded my system. I bolted from the office, sped home, and found my car parked in its usual spot. I yanked the back door open, a scream of accusation on my lips. But before I could speak, David looked up at me, his eyes wide and completely blank. “Who are you?” he asked. 1 I froze, the fury in my chest burning even hotter. So that was his game. The bastard gets caught red-handed and pretends not to know me, thinking he can just weasel his way out of it? I grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him, stark naked, out onto the pavement. Inside the car, Zoe shrieked, clutching the car blanket to her chest. “David, you son of a bitch!” I slapped him so hard he stumbled and fell. He scrambled backward, his eyes filled with genuine terror. “Lady, I know what we were doing wasn’t exactly classy, but that’s no reason to get violent.” “Still playing dumb? Who are you calling ‘lady’?” My patience snapped. I stared him down, but his expression remained one of pure, bewildered confusion. Even though it was late, the complex was full of people walking their dogs or enjoying the evening air. A small crowd was already starting to form. Panic flashed across David’s face. He scrambled to his feet, shoving my hand away. “You’re crazy! I don’t know you! Get away from me, or I’m calling the cops!” Furious, I turned my attention back to the car, leaning in to glare at my so-called best friend. “Zoe, why would you do this? Why would you seduce my boyfriend?” “Who are you?” she screamed, her voice shrill with fear. “I don’t know you! Help! Somebody help me!” “Get away from my wife!” David’s roar was thunderous. He grabbed me, shoved me backward, and I fell hard onto the asphalt. My world tilted. The whispers of the onlookers reached my ears. “What’s going on? Is she catching him cheating?” “That guy’s a real piece of work. Hitting his own girlfriend for his mistress.” “Hey, you’ve got it wrong. That couple lives downstairs from me. They’ve been married for ages. I’ve never seen this woman before.” “What? Seriously? So… is she actually just crazy?” My head throbbed. The world spun around me, a chaotic blur of confused faces and accusatory whispers. Before I could process any of it, David and Zoe scrambled into the front seats and sped away. How could this be happening? The three of us—me, David, and Zoe—we grew up together. Twenty years of friendship, of shared history. And tonight, they not only betray me but act like I’m a complete stranger. I stumbled back to my apartment building in a daze, but when I tried my key, it wouldn’t turn in the lock. No matter how many times I tried, the door wouldn’t open. I slammed my fist against the wood in frustration and trudged back to the office. “Leah? Where’d you go?” My coworker, Sarah, asked, slurping a mouthful of instant noodles. I collapsed into my chair, my voice catching in my throat. “My boyfriend is cheating on me.” Sarah paused, a noodle dangling from her lips. She gave me a strange look. “Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boyfriend?” 2 Her words were like a slap in the face. I shot to my feet. David used to bring me lunch every single day. There was no way Sarah didn’t know him. Why was she playing dumb, too? I slammed my hand on the desk. “Why are you saying that? Are you in on it with those two?” Sarah put down her noodle cup, her expression shifting from confusion to concern. “Leah, you really don’t have a boyfriend.” “Yes, I do! We grew up together! We live together in Eastwood Estates!” Her look turned from concern to pity, with a hint of ridicule. “Leah, did you eat some bad takeout or something? A condo in Eastwood Estates costs millions. How could we, on our salaries, ever afford a place like that?” I stared at her, my blood running cold. I remembered being the sales manager, with a six-figure salary. A genuine fear, cold and sharp, began to pierce through my anger. My life, the one I remembered so clearly, didn’t seem to exist. Where did it all go wrong? Over the next few days, I reached out to other friends. Every single one of them gave me the same story: they had never heard of David or Zoe. They scoffed at the idea that the CEO of a major tech firm like David would ever be interested in a “broke girl” like me. I retreated to my new reality—a cheap, cramped rental I apparently lived in—and sank onto the lumpy sofa, my mind reeling. Was I going crazy? Was this some kind of delusion? No. It couldn’t be. They were all lying to me. This was a conspiracy. I clenched my fists. I would find out the truth myself. 3 I spent the next few days tailing David, and with every passing hour, my heart grew colder. He and Zoe were, by all accounts, a couple. Everyone in their circle treated them as such. It was as if I had been completely erased from their history. David was the CEO of the city’s largest publicly traded company. Zoe had been parachuted into my company as the new sales manager—the very position that, in my memory, was mine. Somehow, Zoe hadn’t just stolen my boyfriend. She had stolen my entire life. I refused to accept it. There had to be a rational explanation, a plot behind all this. I decided my only option was to break into the condo at Eastwood Estates—the home that was supposed to be mine. If there was any evidence of my old life, it would be there. Eastwood Estates was a high-end, exclusive community. Normally, a stranger wouldn’t be able to get past the front gate. But on the night I caught them, the security guard hadn’t stopped me. That meant he must have recognized me. This time, however, when I approached the gate, he blocked my path. “Residents only,” he said, his face a stern mask. “I am a resident. I live in building two, apartment 305.” The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second. “That’s Mr. Sterling’s residence. Who are you to him?” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “You really don’t recognize me?” His eyes flickered away for a second before he cleared his throat. “Ma’am, please maintain a respectful distance. I don’t know you. If you have no further business here, I have to ask you to leave.” I sighed and turned away, feigning defeat. But I knew a secret. There was a service entrance on the far side of the property, an unmonitored back way in, designed for discretion. I slipped through it and made my way to what I still considered my home. I didn’t have a key, but I’d taken a lock-picking course for fun years ago. After a few tense minutes of work, the lock clicked open. As I pushed the door, I felt a sudden prickling sensation on the back of my neck, as if someone was watching me. I spun around, but the hallway was empty. I slipped inside, closing the door silently behind me. The apartment was mostly as I remembered it. The furniture, the layout—it was all familiar. Where to start? I walked into the bedroom. The blue comforter was the same. My vanity table was still in the corner. The only difference was that all the photos of David and me had been replaced with photos of him and Zoe. I searched frantically, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Then, in the back of the closet, I found it: a beautifully bound journal. I didn’t remember David ever keeping a diary. This had to be it. This had to hold the answers to what had happened. My heart hammered in my chest. I was about to open it when I heard the sound of a key in the front door lock. I spun around in terror. A second later, the door swung open. 4 A man and a woman stumbled in, locked in a passionate embrace, their moans and whispers filling the apartment. It was David and Zoe. “Hey, what’s the rush? What if someone saw us?” Zoe giggled. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’ve missed you like crazy.” They kicked off their shoes and tumbled onto the bed, their clothes falling in a heap on the floor, just inches from my face. I flattened myself under the bed, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. The irony was suffocating. I was the rightful partner, yet here I was, hiding under the bed like a common mistress. The bed frame began to creak rhythmically. Between gasps, they started talking. “So, tell me again,” Zoe said. “Who was that crazy woman the other night? Why did she say she was your girlfriend?” “Oh, her? Just some lunatic. I have no idea how the security guard let her in.” “You’re sure you’re not sleeping with her?” “Silly girl,” David murmured. “My heart belongs only to you. Besides, you saw her. She was so plain. Definitely not my type.” “Hmph. That’s more like it.” I ground my teeth in fury. But a horrifying realization dawned on me. This wasn’t an act. They weren’t trying to deceive me anymore. I wasn’t here. They truly didn’t know who I was. What the hell was going on? How could my entire life be rewritten overnight? Were my memories all fake? As I wrestled with these impossible questions, the sounds from the bed grew more intense. Suddenly, Zoe let out a sharp cry. It wasn’t a sound of pleasure. It was a scream of pure, unadulterated pain. Before I could process what was happening, her scream turned into a blood-curdling shriek. The bed began to shake violently. A torrent of warm, sticky liquid streamed down the side of the mattress, pooling on the floor in front of me. The coppery stench of blood filled my nostrils. Then, something round and heavy rolled off the edge of the bed and landed with a wet thud right in front of me. It was Zoe’s severed head. Her terrified eyes were wide open, staring directly into mine.

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Three years after I was released from prison, I ran into my adoptive brother, Danny, at the hospital. I was there for my psychiatry appointment. He was carrying a bag from the high-end cosmetic clinic, filled with the signature facial masks his new sister, Isabelle, loved. When he caught sight of me, thin and worn, a frown creased his brow. “Why didn’t you say anything about being released early?” My expression was neutral. “You changed your number. I couldn’t reach you.” He cleared his throat, a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. “Well, since you’re out, you should come home.” I took a step back. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shock flashed in his eyes. “Carol, are you still angry with me?” I just shook my head, saying nothing. I had found my real brother. You can’t love or hate someone who has become irrelevant. … I bent down to pick up the medical file he’d knocked from my hand, but he was faster. The words “Autism Spectrum Disorder” printed neatly on the cover seemed to sting him. His brow furrowed. “Carol, it’s been years. Isabelle has forgiven you. So have I.” “You shouldn’t let these negative emotions consume you.” I offered a faint smile. “I won’t.” After a polite and distant goodbye, I started to walk away, my gait uneven. Behind me, Danny’s eyes turned red. “Carol, your leg… is it injured?” His voice was strained. “How can you dance like that?” I paused for a second, my gaze dropping to the prosthetic beneath my slacks. I managed a small smile. It had been a long time since its existence had caused me any pain. Danny rushed forward, grabbing my wrist. His voice was a low, urgent whisper. “You have a prison record, a bad leg… how are you supposed to survive on your own?” “Come home with me. I’m your brother, and Isabelle’s. Even if you made mistakes, I’ll still take care of you both, just the same.” Before I could refuse, Isabelle stepped out of the clinic, a radiant smile on her face. The smile froze when she saw me, but it returned a second later, brighter than before. “Sister! You’re out of prison?” Her voice was deliberately loud, drawing the eyes of everyone in the hallway. Danny’s frown deepened. “Isabelle, keep your voice down. Carol is still my—” He trailed off as Isabelle’s expression crumpled into her usual look of wounded innocence. I cut him off. “It’s fine.” “No need to hide it. She’s telling the truth.” Isabelle reached for my hand, but I shifted away. Her smile never faltered. “It’s my birthday today. My brother brought me for a six-figure rejuvenation treatment. So expensive, isn’t it?” “He also baked me a cake himself, and since he knows I love a celebration, he ordered fireworks for the whole city.” She paused, then covered her mouth, her brow furrowed in mock concern. “Oh, sister, I’m so sorry.” “What I mean is, I wanted to invite you to my birthday party. It’s just one more plate at the table. My brother and I wouldn’t mind.” Danny shot her a warning glance before turning to me, his tone placating. “Carol, I’ll do all of this for your birthday, too. Just… come tonight, say hello to everyone.” I looked at them both, my face a placid mask. “No, thank you. I have plans. I wouldn’t want to intrude.” The silence stretched for a moment. Danny’s voice was laced with bitterness. “All your old friends cut ties with you after what happened. Who could you possibly have plans with?” “Carol, I know you blame me, but no matter what, we are the closest people to each other in this world.” I gave a noncommittal smile. Once, that was true. I was born with a severe form of autism. Everyone called me a monster. My mother, unable to bear the whispers and stares, took my older brother and ran. When my father was at work, he left me with the old woman downstairs. The neighborhood kids would throw rocks at me, trying to see if they could make the silent monster speak. Danny was always the one who chased them away, pressing a lollipop into my hand afterward. Then he saw his mother having an affair with his uncle. At an age where secrets are impossible to keep, he told his father. That night, his father murdered them both before leaping from the roof of their apartment building. The day social services came for him, I clung to his hand and refused to let go. So he stayed. That day, my father gained a new son, and I gained a new brother. To escape the whispers that Danny had caused his parents’ deaths, my father moved us to a small coastal town. During a typhoon, my father was swept out to sea while saving Danny from the churning waves. That night, Danny held me as I huddled in a corner and swore an oath. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make up for all the love you’ve lost.” He delivered milk at dawn, hauled bricks on construction sites during the day, and delivered takeout at night, all to pay for my expensive therapy. Seeing his bruised shoulders and cracked hands, I began to understand. I found something I loved: dance. The doctors said it would help me open up, so Danny worked himself to the bone to send me to the best dance academy. One afternoon, the studio caught fire. By the time Danny arrived, the flames were painting the sky red. Someone shouted that the quiet, non-verbal girl was still inside. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the inferno. “I have to save my sister!” The fire singed his hair, but he kept pushing forward. I saw him through the crowd, choking on the thick black smoke, and for the first time in my life, I spoke. “Brother, I’m okay.” In that moment, Danny, who never cried, held me and wept with joy. “Carol, you spoke! You finally spoke!” After that, everything changed. I went to school, I danced, and Danny, free from worry, built an empire. In just a few years, he became one of the city’s most successful entrepreneurs. Everyone knew he had a sister he treasured more than life itself. Cocooned in his absolute devotion, my autism receded. I became a happy, thriving dancer. I thought we would live like that forever. Then he brought Isabelle home. She was a dance student from a prestigious university, working as a summer intern at his company. She’d been disowned by her mother for exposing an affair between her mother and a senior partner. Her father blamed her for driving his wife away and left her to fend for herself. Danny said her lonely, desperate state reminded him of himself as a boy, so he decided to take her in. I knew how much his parents’ death still haunted him, so I agreed. One day, Isabelle looked at the locket I always wore. “Your locket is so beautiful, sister.” Before I could respond, Danny unclasped it from my neck and handed it to her. “Think of it as a welcome gift.” I snatched it back instinctively. Danny’s face fell with disappointment as he met Isabelle’s tear-filled eyes. “I’ve bought you so much jewelry, Carol. It’s just a locket. Is this who I’ve spoiled you into becoming?” Tears of betrayal streamed down my face. “I have a lot of jewelry, but this… this is the only thing my father ever gave me.” I ran out of the house in a rage, forgetting my phone. I sat on a bench outside, just as I had countless times before, and began counting down from twenty, waiting for him to come and apologize. I counted through the entire night, but he never came. When I finally returned home, he was feeding Isabelle breakfast. At that moment, something inside me began to harden. That evening, Danny apologized, promising he would never favor Isabelle again. I let it go and threw myself into rehearsals for the dance company’s national tour. A month later, Danny decided to throw a lavish party for Isabelle, to celebrate her “new life.” He insisted that as her older sister, I had to be there. Not wanting to ruin the mood, I took time off from rehearsals and bought Isabelle a pink diamond as a gift. But at the party, she fell to her knees before me. “Sister, I don’t want the diamond. My lifelong dream has been to be a principal dancer. Please, just give me your role in this tour. Please?” It was a role I had worked over a decade for. I refused without a second thought. The party ended on a sour note. On the first day of the tour, someone hid nails in my dance shoes. My feet were shredded. I fell from a ten-foot platform. While I was in the emergency room, Isabelle took my place as the principal dancer, dazzling the audience. Danny was there, recording her entire performance. The hard shell around my heart grew thicker, heavier. I couldn’t breathe. I trashed my entire hospital room, demanding that Danny send Isabelle away. His expression was cold. “You were careless. It has nothing to do with Isabelle.” “She coveted the role!” I screamed, hysterical. “She put the nails in my shoes!” He looked at me with the same expression I had seen so many times in my childhood, when others called me a monster. “Do you have to be this way?” “Have you forgotten? It was this monstrous side of you that drove your mother away.” His words were more devastating than a thousand stones. The shell around my heart tightened, suffocating me. After I was discharged, I frantically searched for proof, obsessed with making him see that he was wrong, that Isabelle had hurt me. But all the security footage had been tampered with. I offered a huge reward for information. Finally, another dancer came forward with a video on her phone, showing Isabelle planting the nails. I put the video online. It was my last stand, my final attempt to make him see the truth. But Isabelle was more ruthless. She slit her wrists, waiting until the floor was slick with blood before allowing Danny to “discover” her. Outside the operating room, for the first time in his life, Danny hit me. “Isabelle is just insecure! She never meant to hurt you,” he seethed. “Because of you, she has nightmares. She spends every day praying for forgiveness. Isn’t that enough?” His words cut through my shock. “So you knew? You knew she put the nails in my shoes? The security footage… you had it erased?” His eyes flickered. He didn’t speak, but I had my answer. “She didn’t mean for it to be serious,” he said softly, trying to placate me. “Otherwise, your legs would have been permanently damaged.” “It’s just a principal role. If you post a clarification for Isabelle right now, I’ll buy you your own dance company. You can be the principal every day.” I slapped him, my hand stinging. “So that’s it, Danny? You’re trying to insult me with your money?” His face was a blank mask. “What else is there?” I laughed, a sharp, broken sound. “If you think I will let you destroy Isabelle,” he continued, his voice cold, “you are mistaken.” He picked up one of the nails from the evidence bag and drove it into his own foot. “I’m paying for your pain with my own. Is that enough for you?” Drops of crimson splattered on the white floor. Isabelle ran out, crying, pressing her hands to his wound. “Brother, I’m sorry. I was just jealous of her,” she sobbed. “Jealous of your love, of her career. I couldn’t control myself.” He comforted her gently. “It’s okay. I know you’re a good, kind girl at heart. I’ve shed her blood for her. She has no right to blame you anymore.” I lost control. “Danny! This isn’t over between us!” He looked at me with disgust. “Carol, if Dad could see how vicious you’ve become…” “You have no right to talk about my father!” I shrieked. “You’re the one who’s blind! I will prove it to you!” I hired a private investigator. It didn’t take long to discover that Isabelle was no innocent flower. I bought a compromising video of her and her boyfriend. In it, she was tied up, crying for help as he had his way with her—a scene that looked exactly like an assault. But her boyfriend explained it was just a game they played, a BDSM-style roleplay that she loved. I threw the USB drive at Danny. “Isabelle is not who you think she is! She’s been making videos like this since she was eighteen! She doesn’t deserve to be part of our family!” At the same time, the clip of Isabelle “being assaulted” was leaked online. She collapsed into Danny’s arms, weeping. “Sister hates me so much… she’s exposed my most painful trauma to the world. I can’t live with this shame. The life I owe you, brother… I’ll repay it in the next one.” She raised a dagger to her heart. Danny caught the blade with his bare hand, blood dripping from his palm. His gaze pierced through me, his voice like ice. “Can’t you see she was forced? Do you have any idea how important a girl’s reputation is?” “The video online… it wasn’t me who—” I tried to explain. He cut me off as if he hadn’t heard. “It seems you don’t. Perhaps it’s time you learned firsthand.” He hired the best lawyers in the country. The trial was broadcast live. He had me convicted for slander and invasion of privacy and sent to prison. I became a pariah. When I tried to appeal, he crushed my hope. “You look down on my money? I want you to understand that everything you have, I gave to you. As long as I’m here, you won’t find a single lawyer in this city to help you.” “I hope five years in prison will teach you respect, compassion, and weakness.” The shell around my heart sealed shut, trapping me in an endless darkness. My last memory was of him walking away with Isabelle, never once looking back. The man before me blurred, merging with the face from my memories. I felt no pain, no resentment. Nothing at all. My psychiatrist was right. I had truly moved on. I smiled calmly. “The closest person in your life can be your sister, Mr. Crawford, or your future wife. But it will never be me.” The bitterness in Danny’s voice deepened. “Carol, do you have to speak like this? I know my punishment was harsh, but I just didn’t want you to become spoiled and arrogant.” “Listen to me. Come home. I’ll take care of you. The world is a dangerous place. You’ve been sheltered your whole life. Only at home can I give you the best protection, the best medical care, the best of everything…” “Carol!” A voice from down the hall cut him off. I turned and saw my brother, Adrian, jogging toward me, a mask covering his face.

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The company-wide raise added a cool two grand to my monthly paycheck. To celebrate, I treated myself to a Mango Paradise smoothie at lunch. My coworker, Leo, sauntered over. “Well, look at you, Sophie. Living the high life, huh?” He leaned in, squinting at the price sticker on the cup, and his voice jumped an octave. “Nine bucks for a smoothie? Man, it must be nice being single. You guys can just throw money around. Not like us poor saps with families to feed. We have to think twice before buying bottled water.” I put down my drink. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He threw his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. “Whoa, it’s just a joke! I’m just riffing with you. Can’t you take a little banter? No sense of humor?” A hot flash of anger rose in me, but just then, his phone rang. He didn’t even look at the caller ID, just hit the speakerphone button. His wife’s voice, tinny and whining, filled the air. “…this month’s budget is a disaster.” “No money? Just ask Sophie for a loan,” Leo said into the phone. “She’s single, practically rolling in money she doesn’t know what to do with. Besides—” Heads were starting to turn in our direction. He shot me a smug wink and drawled, “Just doing a bit with the wife for you, Sophie. Don’t take it to heart, okay?” A knot of anger tightened in my chest, hot and suffocating. 1 The anger was a stone in my throat. I couldn’t swallow it, and I couldn’t spit it out. Leo, still on his live call, had the audacity to add, “See, honey? Sophie’s all flustered. I’m just riffing, she gets it.” His wife mumbled something else before he hung up, chuckling. I took a deep breath, my eyes locked on him. “Leo, I want an apology.” He wiped the grin off his face and replaced it with a look of exaggerated innocence. “An apology? For what, Sophie? It was just a little office banter, you know? Just riffing to liven things up.” He spoke loudly, making sure the entire open-plan office could hear. “If you can’t even handle a simple joke, how are you ever going to connect with the younger generation?” he said, shaking his head as if he pitied me. A few cubicles over, I heard a stifled snicker. My fingernails dug into my palms. “I didn’t find it funny,” I said, my voice low and tight. “Oh, come on, don’t be a spoilsport.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Fine, fine. My mistake. You’re the bigger person, I get it.” With that, he swaggered back to his desk, leaving me stewing in a cloud of silent fury. It felt like punching a pillow—all effort, no impact. At two o’clock, our team lead called a quick huddle. We had a notoriously difficult client, one whose project plan had already been rejected six times. Nobody wanted to touch that hot potato. As our lead agonized over who to assign it to, Leo’s hand shot up. “Give it to Sophie!” he boomed. “She’s a powerhouse, and with that nice raise she just got, she should be taking on more responsibility.” He turned to me, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. “The rest of us have to pick up kids and keep the home fires burning. We can’t guarantee we won’t have to clock out right at five. But Sophie? She’s single, her time is her own. It’s the perfect opportunity for her to shine.” I immediately pushed back. “Mark, I’m already juggling three projects. First drafts for all of them are due next Wednesday. My schedule is packed. And this client’s demands are… unique. I’m worried I won’t—” Leo cut me off. “High demands just prove how skilled you are! The most capable person should handle the toughest jobs. Don’t be so modest, Sophie. Everyone knows you’ve got the most potential in this department.” Sarah, sitting next to me, chimed in. “He’s right, Sophie. It’s good for young people to challenge themselves. For those of us with kids and aging parents, our hands are tied.” Another colleague, Dave, nodded in agreement. “Leo has a point.” Our lead, Mark, pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked at them, then at me. “Sophie, you are very capable. This client is a headache, but it could also be a major win. How about it… can you take one for the team?” I looked at Mark’s pleading face, then at Leo’s triumphant smirk, and swallowed the rest of my protests. “Fine,” I said. Leo’s smile was painfully sincere. “That’s the spirit! We’ll all be cheering for you.” My stomach churned. Just before quitting time, the office admin came around collecting money for the last team-building event. It was eighty bucks a head. Leo followed her over, rapping his knuckles on my desk. “Sophie,” he said, his voice oozing with forced familiarity. “You just got that big raise, and you’ve got no dependents. Why don’t you cover an extra two hundred? Call it a treat for the team. Let everyone share in your good fortune.” I looked up at him, my expression flat. “We’re splitting it evenly. I’ll transfer my share.” The smile on his face flickered. “Tch. No fun at all. It was just a suggestion, you know? A joke. Don’t be so literal.” As he transferred his eighty dollars to the admin, he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Makes all that money and she’s still so stingy. No class.” The admin shot me an awkward glance before scurrying away to the next desk. I sat there, feeling a hot flush creep up my back. It was pure rage. The second the clock hit five, I was out of my chair and bolting for the door. One more second in that room and I might have actually exploded. I was heading for the subway when I spotted Leo in the designated smoking area near the main entrance. He was with a guy from another department, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. His back was to me; he hadn’t seen me leave. I heard his voice, laced with laughter and dripping with condescending pride. “…don’t worry about it. That Sophie in our office? She’s a naive little thing with deep pockets and a thin skin. Next time you have a nightmare project, just push it our way. I’ll feed her a few compliments, and I guarantee she’ll snap it right up.” He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a perfect smoke ring. “People like her? They’re the easiest mark in the world.” 2 A cold night breeze swept over me, and I shivered. I slipped away before he could spot me, his words echoing in my head all the way to the subway station. For the next few days, I did my best to avoid Leo. He dropped the difficult client’s file on my desk with a cheerful “The best person for the job!” and washed his hands of it completely. I spent an entire week buried in that project, working late every single night. Finally, I hammered out a proposal that I thought might actually work. On the day of the presentation, the client loved it. They approved it on the spot. A wave of relief washed over me. At least the miserable week had paid off. But less than ten minutes after the confirmation email went out, Leo tagged me in the department group chat. Leo: “Congrats, Sophie! Got it approved in one go, you’re a rock star! To be honest, I threw in a lot of suggestions for that proposal myself. Looks like the sparks from our collaboration really paid off!” I stared at the screen, my blood beginning to boil. He hadn’t offered a single concrete suggestion beyond dumping the mess on my lap. I didn’t argue in the group chat. Instead, I scrolled back through my direct messages with him, found our conversation about the project, and took a screenshot. It clearly showed me asking for background information, and him replying with a series of “Not sure” and “You figure it out.” I dropped the screenshot into the group chat without a word. The chat went dead silent. A few minutes later, a private message from Leo popped up. Leo: “Sophie, why are you being so serious? I was just riffing, trying to make it look like we have good teamwork. Dropping screenshots like that makes us look divided to the managers.” I typed back: “It is what it is.” He sent a single eye-roll emoji. “So lame.” After that incident, I started working closely with Josh from the tech department on a new project. We were constantly huddled at my desk or booking conference rooms to hash out the details. It only took a couple of days for things to feel… off. Josh started avoiding my gaze. Whenever I tried to talk work with him, he’d give me clipped answers and find an excuse to bolt. Then one day in the breakroom, I overheard Leo talking to another colleague. “…see that?” he was snickering. “Sophie won’t leave poor Josh alone. Someone’s getting desperate to get married.” It all clicked into place. That afternoon, I saw Leo holding court with a few others across the office, his eyes flicking towards me as he spoke. I walked straight over and stood in front of him. “Leo, why are you telling people I have a thing for Josh? What gives you the right to spread rumors like that?” My voice was loud enough to carry, and the chatter around us died down. Leo looked startled for a second, then plastered on a wounded expression. “Sophie, what are you talking about? I was just trying to help you out! You’re single, so I thought I’d riff a little, you know, create some buzz!” He spread his hands wide, appealing to the onlookers. “Am I wrong here, people? I was just playing matchmaker! Maybe something good could have come out of it. Why can’t you appreciate a good deed?” Someone nearby let out a low chuckle. I stared at his shameless face. “Leo, you’ve gone too far!” He took a theatrical step back, feigning fear. “Whoa, look at her go! Firing up again!” he shouted to the remaining coworkers. “It’s just friendly concern! A joke! I’m just riffing! Seriously, you need to work on that temper. Who’s going to set you up on dates if you fly off the handle like this?” The others quickly buried their heads in their work, pretending to be busy. I was shaking with rage. I grabbed my bag and stormed out. I was almost at the elevator when I remembered a document I needed for the morning. I turned back to grab it from the printer. The machine was still humming, spitting out the last few pages of a job. I walked over and saw it wasn’t a work document at all. It was a thick stack of fifth-grade math worksheets. On the top page, written in neat handwriting, was the name of Leo’s son. I glanced around. No one was watching. I picked up the stack of paper, still warm from the machine. I flipped through it. The paper was company stock. The ink was from the company’s toner cartridge. This was a hefty stack. The cost of the toner alone wouldn’t be cheap. I placed the worksheets back in the tray. An idea began to form in my mind. 3 The next morning, I made a point of getting to the office early. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Leo strolled into our section, a USB drive in his hand, making a beeline for that specific printer. He plugged it in and started clicking away. The printer whirred to life. I walked over and stood right beside him. “Morning, Leo,” I said sweetly. “Printing some personal files?” He jumped, spinning around. A flash of panic crossed his face when he saw me, but it was quickly replaced by his usual brand of arrogant nonchalance. “Oh, hey, Sophie,” he said, patting the printer. “This thing was just sitting here gathering dust. Figured I’d print out some homework for my kid. Help you guys use up the toner before it expires, you know?” I watched as another worksheet, covered in dense, black ink, slid into the output tray. “Company policy says the printers are for business use only,” I stated calmly. “Policies are made to be broken, right?” he chuckled. “It’s a small thing. Don’t be so rigid.” I didn’t waste any more words on him. I stepped over to the connected computer, opened the printer settings, and, right in front of him, set a password for all future print jobs. “What are you doing?” he sputtered. “Preventing excessive waste of company resources,” I said, then walked back to my desk. Leo stood there for a few seconds, his face darkening. Then, he suddenly raised his voice, shouting to the entire office. “Hey, everyone, come and see this! Can you believe it? Sophie just password-protected the public printer! I guess none of us get to use it anymore! So much for being a team player. How selfish can you get?” A few colleagues looked over, drawn by the commotion. Sarah, the one who always played peacemaker, spoke up. “Sophie, we’re all colleagues here. It’s just a printer. There’s no need for that, is there?” Dave chimed in, “Yeah, a password is just going to make things inconvenient for everyone.” Seeing he had allies, Leo pressed his advantage. “Exactly! And it’s not like I was printing my novel. It’s for my son’s education! I’m investing in the next generation! What’s so wrong with that?” I couldn’t stand it, but I knew explaining would be pointless. I said nothing. At the end of the month, a supervisor position opened up in our department. Myself, Leo, and one other colleague all met the basic qualifications. I threw myself into preparing my presentation for the promotion review, determined to let my work speak for itself. One afternoon, I went to our manager’s office to give him a progress report. As I approached the door, I heard Leo’s voice from inside. “…and listen, Mark, Sophie’s skills are top-notch, no question. But sometimes… she just doesn’t fit in. She takes jokes too seriously, gets defensive. If she were in a management role, leading a team… I just worry her communication style might be a little… difficult.” I heard Mark murmur something like, “I’ll take that into consideration…” I stood frozen outside the door, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. Over the next few days, the atmosphere in the office felt strange. I asked Chloe, a newer colleague I was friendly with, what was going on. She reluctantly told me that Leo was spreading a rumor that I was so desperate for the promotion, I’d been secretly bad-mouthing the other candidates to management. I tried to explain myself to Mark, but he just gave me a placid smile. “Sophie, focus on your work. Don’t let office chatter distract you. The company values overall performance.” A crushing sense of helplessness washed over me. That night, I worked late again. Needing a break, I headed for the stairwell to get some air. I had just pushed open the heavy fire door when I heard Leo’s voice floating up from the landing below. He was on the phone, his tone thick with smug satisfaction. “…don’t worry, she’s not a threat. I’ve seen her type before. All pride and a paper-thin ego. I’ll just turn up the heat, spread the word a little more, and she’ll pack her own bags and run…” 4 I gently closed the door, shutting out the sound of Leo’s voice. For a long time, I just sat there in the vast, empty office. On Friday, the department went out for dinner. The mood was festive, with plenty of food and drink. Leo was in his element, bouncing from table to table, making toasts and cracking jokes that had the managers roaring with laughter. I had no appetite. I picked at my food, wishing the night would just end. After a few rounds of drinks, he staggered to his feet, tapping his glass for attention. “Everyone! A toast! Let’s raise our glasses to our dear Sophie!” All eyes turned to me. “Why Sophie?” he asked, pausing for dramatic effect. “Because she’s the one who handles all the impossible tasks in our department! And why is that? Because we’re all tied down with families, while she has no one and nothing to worry about! She dedicates all her time—and her raise—to the company! Isn’t that spirit worth a toast?” A few of his cronies half-heartedly raised their glasses. I set down my fork. I could feel the blood draining from my face, my hands clenched into fists under the table. Leo saw my expression and immediately shifted to his innocent-victim act. “Whoa, Sophie, don’t get mad! I’m just riffing! It’s a compliment, really! I’m saying you’re more capable, more enlightened than us common folk!” A wave of laughter rippled across the table. I sat there, feeling like an animal in a zoo, a spectacle for their amusement. Monday morning, our manager, Mark, called me over, his expression urgent. “We have an emergency project. I need a proposal by this afternoon. Leo says he has the baseline data; I need you to build out the core strategy.” Leo appeared moments later, clutching a folder. “The data’s all in here. It’s a tight deadline, so we’re counting on you!” “Is it all verified?” I asked. “Don’t worry, I double-checked everything!” Leo said, puffing out his chest. “Now get to it. The client’s waiting.” I worked through my lunch break, skipping even a sip of water, and managed to send out the proposal just before noon. That afternoon, Mark summoned me to his office. His face was thunderous. “Sophie! What is this data in your proposal? It’s completely wrong! It doesn’t match the client’s reality at all! The client just called me, absolutely furious, and said we were being grossly unprofessional! Do you not check your data before you send things out?” “The data was from Leo,” I stammered. “He said he verified it…” “Get Leo in here!” Mark roared. Leo walked in, picked up the folder he’d given me from my desk, and flipped through a few pages, his face a mask of shock. “Oh my god… this data… This was from some old scratch notes I took. It’s probably not accurate. It was just meant as a rough reference.” He turned to me, his voice dripping with reproach. “Sophie, didn’t I mention you should probably double-check it, just in case? For something this important, how could you just use unverified numbers?” “You never said that!” I trembled with fury. “What do you mean I never said that?” he shot back, his face a picture of innocence. “It was just a casual comment, a bit of a riff. How was I supposed to know you’d take raw data and send it straight to a client?” Mark rubbed his temples. “Enough! Stop arguing! Sophie, you wrote the proposal, you’re responsible! I want a formal letter of apology on my desk by the end of the day.” I felt a chill run through me as I walked out of his office. Leo trailed behind me. “Sorry about that, Sophie,” he whispered. “I really didn’t think it would blow up like this.” I ignored him. I spent the rest of the afternoon writing my apology, feeling the weight of my colleagues’ stares. Leo ambled over to my desk, a mug in his hand. He leaned in, his voice low and slick with faux concern. “Sophie, honestly, after all this, I’m starting to think… maybe you’re not the right fit for our company culture.” My fingers froze over the keyboard. “You’re just too serious,” he continued. “You can’t take a joke. Look at you, you’re making yourself miserable. Why put yourself through this? Maybe… you should consider other options?” His words hung in the quiet office, audible to the few colleagues still at their desks. Under their silent, watching eyes, I slowly lifted my head. To everyone’s surprise, I didn’t lash out in anger or crumble in defeat. Instead, I offered Leo the most genuine smile I had in months. “Leo,” I said softly, my voice shockingly calm. “You’re right.” He froze, clearly not expecting this reaction. I kept smiling, holding his confused gaze, and said, word by word, “I really should start thinking about… my next move.” You want to “riff”? Fine. I’m about to show you how it’s done.

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My CEO girlfriend, Isabella, and I were finally at that age—the marrying kind. But just as we started planning, she suddenly enacted a bizarre new company policy: To be approved for wedding leave, an employee must first demonstrate their commitment with a full month of perfect attendance. No exceptions. From that day on, Isabella—a woman who had a seven-year perfect attendance streak—developed a new catchphrase. “Bob, I’m so sorry. I was just one minute late again this month. Next month. I promise, next month I’ll marry you.” From my 29th birthday to my 32nd, in just three short years, she got into ten “accidental” car crashes that landed her in the hospital, suffered twenty-one bouts of food poisoning, and overslept five times. In short, she never managed to get that perfect attendance. At first, I was understanding, comforting. Then came the doubt, the anger. Finally, I started driving her to work myself, clearing every possible obstacle from our path. Yet, on the last day of one month, she fainted dead away just as she was stepping through the company’s front doors. That’s when a saying echoed in my mind: You can’t wake someone who’s only pretending to be asleep. After getting her to the hospital, I turned to leave. But a sliver of hope held me back. What if she was really sick? What if I was being a monster for leaving her alone? I hesitated, then turned back. And as I neared her hospital room, I heard her talking to a friend. “Isabella, there’s definitely something going on between you and that new intern, Caleb.” The casual words struck me like a bolt of lightning, knocking the air from my lungs. Isabella’s voice was laced with a nostalgic smile. “That kid’s got something. It’s been a long time since I felt that spark. Looking at Bob now is like looking at my dad. It’s just… exhausting.” “So you invented this whole perfect-attendance rule just to stall him? Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out and dump you?” “Not a chance. He’s waited for me from 24 to 32. I’m all he has. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping with casual cruelty, “he literally gave me a kidney. He’s not going anywhere. I can say a few sweet things and he’ll be eating out of my hand again.” “True. We’ve all seen how devoted he is to you. The crazy schemes he comes up with just to get you to work on time… it’s almost pathetic.” The sound of their laughter was a physical blow, a sharp, tearing pain in my chest. All my efforts, all my hopes for our future, were nothing but a joke to them. Isabella’s voice, feigning remorse, cut through my daze. “Bob, today was the last day of the month. I really thought I was going to make it. I can’t believe I failed again. I’m the worst. I swear, next month. Next month, I’ll get that perfect attendance.” Hearing those words, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Isabella, for three whole years, I have moved heaven and earth to help you, and you still couldn’t do it. How can you promise you’ll make it next month?” My question stunned her into silence. Her hands clenched into fists. “I’ll set my alarm earlier,” she said, her voice firm. “Three in the morning. I’ll get up at three. I can make it then.” “Bob, you have to believe me. Just one more month. I promise.” “Actually, Ms. Hayes might not be considered late today.” The sudden interruption from the HR representative silenced the room. Isabella’s face went rigid. “Not… late?” Her tone wasn’t joyful. It was pure terror. Her eyes darted nervously to Caleb, the intern, who was watching from the sidelines. “But she wasn’t all the way through the door!” Caleb blurted out. “Can that really count?” The HR rep looked conflicted. “Well, the security footage shows half her body was inside when the clock turned. But because she was falling, the sensor didn’t register her entry. It’s a tough call.” Suddenly, Caleb stumbled, knocking over a potted plant. He swayed, looking like he was about to faint himself. Isabella rushed to his side, steadying him. The moment their eyes met, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. I couldn’t see Isabella’s expression, but I saw her hand tighten on his arm. “Honestly, Ms. Hayes,” the HR rep continued, “we’ve all seen how hard you’ve tried these past three years. Maybe we can just call this one a…” “No,” Isabella cut in, her voice sharp and decisive. The office fell into a dead silence. I could feel the pity in my colleagues’ eyes. The HR rep blinked. “Ms. Hayes, are you sure?” Isabella’s expression was resolute. “As the CEO, I have to lead by example. Besides, I want to marry Bob with a clear conscience, knowing I earned it.” “Next month,” she said, turning her warm gaze on me. “I’ll definitely get it next month. I know Bob is understanding enough to wait for me.” I stared back, my face a mask of stone, and looked away. As the crowd of onlookers dispersed, I saw Isabella catch up to Caleb. “Stop crying,” she whispered. “I didn’t marry him, did I? Besides, you know he’s just a responsibility to me. I don’t even want to marry him.” Caleb’s tears magically stopped, replaced by a sullen pout, waiting for her to coax him back into a good mood. I hadn’t seen her use that kind of patience in years. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore. I walked back to my desk, pulled out my phone, and methodically cancelled the wedding venue we had on hold. Then I called off the wedding planner. The event coordinator was incredulous. “Sir, if you cancel, the next availability is over a year away. Are you absolutely sure?” I didn’t blame her for being surprised. Three years ago, I’d booked that venue with unshakeable confidence, telling them to save the best ballroom for me. After one, two, ten, thirty postponements, here I was, not getting married, but canceling. It was enough to make anyone curious. My eyes fell on the bouquet of flowers Isabella had sent to my desk as yet another apology. “I’m sure,” I said, my voice unwavering. “Cancel everything.” Before I overheard that conversation in the hospital, I’d had my doubts. I thought maybe we’d grown apart, that she had a simple fear of commitment. But I never, ever suspected betrayal. And I certainly never suspected it would be with Caleb, the “slow” and “annoying” intern she was always complaining about. “That new intern is painfully stupid. It took him three days to sort a simple file.” “Did HR have a lobotomy? Why would they hire an idiot like that?” Isabella, normally so composed, always seemed to fly into a rage whenever Caleb was mentioned. After the hospital, I did some reading. A psychology book said that lashing out like that can be a defense mechanism when you’re trying to deny a powerful attraction. A powerful attraction. Just how powerful was it? I thought back to when we first got together. She was incredible to me then. I once glanced at a watch on another guy’s wrist, and she entered a street race and won it for me. When a summer storm flooded the city, she abandoned her multi-million dollar car and waded through the floodwaters from her mansion on the hill just to get to my apartment. She was a wreck when she found me, covered in mud, but her only concern was whether I was hurt. I couldn’t understand it. How could two people who were once so in love end up here? When I got home, Isabella was already there. She threw her arms around me, pulling my cold body into a hug. “You’re freezing! You always try to look cool and never wear enough layers.” I didn’t answer. My gaze drifted to the coffee table, which was covered in trendy, greasy takeout food. “I heard from the kids at the office that you like this stuff,” she said. “I bought it all to say I’m sorry.” This was all the junk food Caleb always had at his desk. It was obvious who had “suggested” it. When I didn’t react, she tried another angle. “You know, we’re already like a real married couple. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper, a formality. I don’t think we should be so conventional, right?” Years ago, I’d fallen for those lines. I forced myself to be the “cool, understanding boyfriend.” Now I saw that I had just let myself become a fool. “Isabella,” I started to say, but I saw her eyes were glued to her phone, a smile she couldn’t suppress playing on her lips. “Bob, something’s come up at work. I have to go,” she said, already grabbing her keys. “You go ahead and eat.” I watched her hurry out the door and then quietly scraped the entire table of greasy food into the trash. After my kidney transplant, my doctor told me to avoid greasy food. She never remembers. In the dead of night, my phone rang, jolting me awake. It was Isabella’s mother. The second I answered, her shrill voice pierced my ear. “Bob, you have three minutes. Get on every group chat and clear up this mess for Isabella. Now.” Confused, I opened my phone. It wasn’t just our company chat; it was chats with our corporate partners, too. All of them were flooded with pictures of Isabella and Caleb at a bar earlier that night. In the photos, her hand was on his thigh, their heads close together. It was damningly intimate. Isabella was the president of a major bank; her personal conduct and reputation were critical. No wonder her mother was panicking. “Ma’am,” I said coldly, “Isabella made her bed. Why is she afraid to lie in it?” My words sent her into a rage. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Bob! None of this would have happened if you weren’t such a curse! Isabella never missed a day of work in her life until she decided to marry you! Then suddenly it’s one ‘accident’ after another! Do you think that’s a coincidence?” “Honestly, a man whose own parents disowned him can’t have good fortune. Only my foolish daughter would treat you like a treasure. Marrying a man with a missing kidney isn’t a marriage, it’s a liability! And you have the nerve to criticize her?” She spat the words with such conviction, as if I were truly the one who had wronged her daughter. The reason my parents disowned me was because I had defied them, giving up our family home and a high-paying job in a major city to follow Isabella here. At the time, looking at the woman who cared for me so completely, I thought she was worth the gamble. It turned out I had bet on the wrong horse. The thought was another sharp jab of pain. Her mother was still ranting, listing all the ways I had brought misfortune to her daughter. I cut her off. “I’m breaking up with Isabella,” I said calmly. “You don’t need to worry anymore.” I hung up, leaving her sputtering in shock on the other end of the line. I had just lain back down when my phone rang again. It was my dad, from my hometown. We hadn’t spoken in years. I answered, bewildered. His voice was old and trembling. “Bob, you need to come home. Your mother… she’s not going to make it.” My mind went blank. The last time I saw her, she was strong enough to yell at me for leaving. How could she suddenly… My body moved before my brain could catch up. I threw on some clothes and ran for the door. I yanked it open and ran straight into Isabella. Behind her stood Caleb, sobbing hysterically. Before I could process what was happening, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Isabella had slapped me. “Bob! Who gave you permission to follow me? And to slander me and Caleb? When did you become so twisted?” I stumbled back, catching myself on a table. I touched my cheek, a bitter laugh rising in my throat. “Slander? Everyone at the office knows about you two. You don’t need my help with that. And follow you? That’s something someone who still loves you would do, Isabella. I’m done. I just want out.” My words clearly rattled her. A flicker of panic crossed her face. Caleb’s whiny voice cut in. “Bob, please don’t misunderstand. Isabella was just helping me because I’m not very good at my job. Why would you spread those horrible pictures in the group chat? How am I supposed to face anyone?” He clutched his chest, feigning a dramatic gasp. “You’re just playing games to hurt her. I can’t stand to see her upset.” He started wheezing. “Isabella… my asthma… I can’t breathe.” That was all it took. Isabella’s heart melted. She turned back to me, her eyes hard and cruel. “Break up? You think you can threaten me with a breakup to make me forgive what you did to Caleb? Not a chance, Bob. Get on your knees and apologize to him. Now.” I had to get to my mother. I didn’t have time for this. Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice flat. “I shouldn’t have spread false photos to slander you and Caleb. Are we done?” My quick compliance seemed to surprise Isabella. But Caleb clutched his chest again, gasping for air. “Why does the perpetrator get to be so arrogant? We, the victims, are just supposed to accept a hollow apology? What about the psychological damage he’s caused?” Isabella wrapped an arm around him. “What do you want, Caleb? What will make you feel better?” “I can’t show my face in public,” he whimpered. “So let’s make it so he can’t either. Then we’ll be even.” He pulled a small, wicked-looking knife from his pocket. “I’ll just carve a few little words into your face, Bob. You’ll be ugly for a while, but once it heals, my anger will be gone. What you did could stain my reputation for life. This is just a small price to pay. You should be grateful.” My blood ran cold. I stared at the gleaming blade and looked to Isabella, begging her with my eyes. She turned her head away. “You did this to yourself, Bob,” she said. “Just take it.” I couldn’t believe it. This was the woman I had loved for eleven years. The next second, the blade bit into my cheek. I didn’t know what was on it, but besides the slicing pain, there was a searing, chemical burn. I screamed, thrashing, but Isabella held me down, her grip like iron. “Just a little longer, Bob,” she hissed in my ear, her voice demonic. “It’ll be over soon.” The agony was blinding. A surge of adrenaline gave me a strength I didn’t know I had. I broke free from her grasp and shoved Caleb to the ground. He had only fallen to a sitting position, but he let out a blood-curdling shriek. Isabella completely ignored my face, which was already starting to blister and swell. She rushed to Caleb’s side, frantically checking him for injuries. Once she was satisfied he was unharmed, she looked back at me, her face a mask of disgust. “Look at you, Bob. You’ve become a monster. He was just giving you a little punishment for what you did, and you attack him like that. If you keep this up, I really will never marry you.”

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I was a nobody in Hollywood, a B-list actress at best. My sugar daddy, however, was Rupert Sterling, the man who could make or break careers in the city with a single phone call. In my past life, I’d been a desperate, dramatic fool. Hired as a stand-in, I’d tried to scheme my way into the leading role, to push out the woman I was meant to imitate. I’d even faked a pregnancy and stormed the Sterling mansion to demand a title, earning his ultimate disgust and losing the shield of his protection. In the end, hunted by my rivals, I met a cold, watery grave in the unforgiving ocean. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the exact day I’d tried to force Rupert into a proposal. The very day his affection had first curdled into contempt. “Mr. Sterling, when are we going to…” Rupert’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at me. “Going to what?” “Go… go our separate ways! I meant, when are we over?” 1 Rupert said nothing. But the icy mask of his expression seemed to mock me, a silent reminder that I had no right to make that decision. A man born into power, he was used to being in control. Even if he didn’t love me, this relationship was supposed to end on his terms, and his alone. Sensing the dangerous shift in the air, I scrambled to recover. “Kelly Lister is back in town, isn’t she? I’d hate for her to be unhappy seeing someone else by your side.” I was Kelly Lister’s double. In the tabloids, they called me “Little Kelly.” It was this face, a near-perfect copy of hers, that had caught Rupert’s eye all those years ago. Now, the original was back. There was still time to fix things. I would never again fight for his attention or try to sideline the real star. And I would certainly never again be foolish enough to dream of becoming Mrs. Sterling. My new strategy was simple: play the part of the considerate mistress, end things amicably for my benefactor’s sake, and walk away. Who knew? Maybe Rupert, pleased with my good sense, would toss a mansion my way as a parting gift. I looked at him, my eyes wide with manufactured hope. But at the mention of Kelly’s name, Rupert’s expression darkened. “Don’t mention her to me,” he said, his voice laced with ice. Oh, right. At this point in time, Kelly had just returned but hadn’t bothered to contact him. He was simmering with a quiet rage. And I had just walked straight into the line of fire. I quickly bowed my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. I overstepped.” His deep, unreadable eyes studied me for a long moment. Seeing my performance of a docile little thing, he let out a short, sharp scoff. “Behave yourself,” he said. “I won’t mistreat you.” Behave yourself was a clear warning: Don’t go near Kelly Lister. As for not mistreating me… that was the truth. Rupert was incredibly generous. He showered me with jewelry and cash without a second thought. Any acting role I wanted, he delivered on a silver platter. The gossip blogs always say, where the money flows, so does the love. That’s why, in my last life, I’d naively believed there was a place for me in his heart. I’d become arrogant, entitled, making enemies everywhere and creating drama at every turn. It all culminated in me showing up at his family’s estate waving a forged pregnancy test. At the time, Rupert was in the middle of a vicious power struggle with his illegitimate half-siblings, and my stunt became a public relations nightmare for him. With that single act, I had exhausted the last shred of his patience. He’d cast me aside completely, revoking his protection. The memory of the bone-chilling water filling my lungs, the suffocating darkness… a violent shiver ran through me. I instinctively burrowed deeper into the solid warmth of Rupert’s chest. “I’ll be good, Mr. Sterling. I promise.” And faking it was easy. If I just locked my heart away and treated him as my boss, what was the difference between this and a regular job? The seven-figure monthly allowance was my salary. The jewelry and designer bags on holidays were my corporate bonuses. His handsome face was just a perk of the work environment. The blockbuster TV shows he funded for me were like company-sponsored MBAs, designed to boost my skills and public profile. And when the day came that Rupert grew tired of me… He was a man of his word. He wouldn’t treat a woman who’d been with him poorly. The breakup fee would be my generous severance package. What a great company! What a great boss! 2 “What are you smiling about?” Rupert’s voice jolted me from my reverie. I realized I’d been grinning like an idiot and quickly schooled my features. “Nothing… I wasn’t smiling.” He gently pushed me away, straightening the collar of his shirt I’d wrinkled. “I’m taking you to a party tonight,” he said. “Dress nicely.” In my past life, this was the night of my first face-to-face battle with Kelly. I had worn a couture gown Rupert had gifted me, only to find Kelly in the exact same one. Her friends had swarmed me, calling me a cheap imitation, a knock-off. I’d lost my temper and started a fight. In the chaos, I’d even pushed Kelly over when she tried to intervene. Rupert had been genuinely furious. He’d given me the silent treatment for a whole month, a month I’d spent in lovesick agony, begging for his forgiveness. This time, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Kelly. It wasn’t that I feared his cold shoulder. It was mostly… that I was afraid he’d cut off my allowance for a month, just like last time. As I was getting ready, I stood before my closet, picking out a dress. That white gown that had caused all the trouble was definitely out. But just as I was about to put it aside, a low voice came from behind me. “Wear that one.” Rupert was standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet. His tone left no room for argument. I had no choice but to obey. When I came out, dressed in the gown, his gaze lingered on me for an unusually long moment. “You look good in white,” he complimented. It just made me look more like Kelly. Hah. Men. The moment we arrived at the party, Rupert was mobbed by a crowd of admirers, leaving me to fend for myself. Bored, I looked for a quiet corner to hide in. But Kelly’s friends found me first. “You have some nerve, wearing the same dress as Kelly. Who do you think you are?” I scratched my ear, pretending I hadn’t heard them. Kelly, however, approached with a gentle smile. “You must be the woman with Rupert, right? This dress is one of only two in the world. It’s priceless. Did he give it to you? He must really like you.” Then she lowered her head, her eyes suddenly welling with tears. If Rupert was my boss, Kelly was the untouchable boss’s wife. Besides, I had no reason to make enemies and repeat my tragic fate. I smiled back. “Ms. Lister, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Sterling specifically told me to wear this dress tonight. I think he brought me here to make you jealous.” Rupert never took me to these events. For him to do so on the very night Kelly was back in town… it was obviously a power play meant to provoke her. I didn’t mind being the pawn that pleased both sides. “Stop with the innocent act!” One of Kelly’s friends shoved me hard. I stumbled backward, crashing into a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. I didn’t fall, but red wine splashed all over my white dress. A good amount of it splattered onto Kelly as well. The scene was ugly. Only now did I realize just how mortifying it had been to get into a public brawl in my past life. Rupert arrived just in time to see the aftermath. The women were huddled around Kelly, comforting her while eagerly throwing me under the bus. “Kelly just happened to be wearing the same dress! Did you have to ruin hers over it?” 3 Rupert shot me a glacial look, then his eyes softened as they landed on Kelly. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked utterly fragile. “Rupert, don’t blame her,” she whispered pitifully. What a massive accusation. I wasn’t about to take the fall for this. “The waitstaff must have seen everything,” I said, my voice steady. “They pushed me first. I didn’t start this. And besides…” I pointed toward a security camera mounted on the ceiling. “The camera will have the truth.” “Well… it was your fault for showing off the dress Mr. Sterling bought you! You were trying to provoke Kelly!” So, no matter what, it was my fault. All eyes turned to Rupert, waiting for the king to pass judgment. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Kelly’s shoulders. “Wear this for now,” he said gently. “I’ll have someone take you to get changed. I’m sorry.” Of course. The scales of affection always tip one way. Even if I proved my innocence, he would always protect his darling. But that didn’t matter to me anymore. Rupert’s face was a mask of thunder as he dragged me to the car. The second the door slammed shut, he yanked at his tie. “Stay the hell away from her,” he hissed, his voice dangerously low. In my past life, this scene had played out countless times. And what did I do? I cried. I played the victim. But now, I just said calmly, “Mr. Sterling, it shouldn’t be hard for you to see that I was the one who was bullied tonight.” He was clearly stunned by my rational, emotionless response. He stared at me for a moment before replying, “I know, but Kelly’s family was there. I had to protect…” “I understand,” I cut in, a serene smile on my face. “But I can’t be humiliated for nothing, can I? As compensation, how about you give me that S-plus blockbuster script?” In my previous life, Kelly had skyrocketed to fame with that very role. I had been sick with envy. I had begged Rupert for it, but he had refused, saying my acting skills weren’t strong enough for a major production. Please. Was Kelly’s acting really that much better? The woman could barely hide her triumphant smirk when he gave her his jacket. Rupert’s lips thinned into a hard line. After a long moment of consideration, he finally said, “Fine.” I pressed my advantage, pointing to the wine stain on my dress. “And you owe me a new dress. Cash would be preferable.” Rupert might not have been a good partner, but he was certainly a considerate boss. He agreed without hesitation. But his gaze remained on me, sharp and probing, for a long time. The drive home was silent. Normally, I would be chattering away, annoying him until he snapped at me to shut up. But now, I was happily scrolling through diet-food videos on my phone. I completely ignored the daggers he was shooting at me from the driver’s seat, and the pointed, attention-seeking clearing of his throat. Hehehe. This was bliss. After a long day at “work,” I was exhausted. The moment we got home, I abandoned Rupert and dove into the bathroom for a long, fragrant shower. I snuggled into my blankets, humming with contentment. I didn’t get his slippers. I didn’t run his bath. Rupert’s expression grew even darker than it had been at the party. He started making a racket, slamming his phone on the nightstand, leaving the bathroom door open while he showered, the sound of rushing water filling the room. It was so distracting that I finally put on my headphones to watch my show in peace. When he was done, he climbed into bed and, out of habit, stretched his arm out towards me. Oh, right. That was my fault. I used to shamelessly use his arm as a pillow, and now it was a reflex for him. I just rolled over, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Click. As the breathing beside me grew heavier, the lamp was slammed off. Three seconds later. Click. The light was on again. Rupert shot up in bed, his jaw clenched. “Ava Reed,” he ground out through his teeth. “What in the hell are you so angry about?” 4 Huh? I was being blamed again? I scrambled to sit up, putting on my best customer-service smile for the boss. “Angry? Why would I be angry? You gave me a major role and a pile of cash. I couldn’t be happier!” “You…” He seemed genuinely furious now. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close until our faces were inches apart. “You’re happy about this?” So being angry was wrong, and being happy was also wrong? This boss was impossible to please. I quickly laid on the charm. “With a boss as generous as you, Mr. Sterling, of course I’m happy!” Rupert narrowed his eyes, his grip on my wrist tightening. “What did you just call me?” “Boss…” That was it. He was officially furious. His eyes were like chips of ice. He stared into my eyes for a long, tense moment, as if searching for something he couldn’t find. I started to feel a prickle of fear under his intense gaze and quickly looked down. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my waist. In one swift motion, he pulled me down, and I was lying flat on my back again. He rolled on top of me, his lips brushing against my ear. His voice was like poison. “Fine,” he whispered. “Then you can work some overtime tonight.” I didn’t know what possessed Rupert that night. All I remembered was a desperate, almost punishing passion. The next morning, I woke up with every muscle in my body aching. I could barely focus on my script, yawning through every line. Filming started in three months; I had to be ready. I couldn’t let this blockbuster IP, the one that had made Kelly a superstar in my past life, fail in my hands. Even during breaks on a commercial shoot, I was studying my character’s psychology and memorizing lines. My agent, Catherine, came over to me. “Ava,” she said, “you’ve been different lately.” “Different how?” “Well… a lot nicer.” I hated Hollywood. It had destroyed the starry-eyed girl who had once dreamed of being an actress. So, in my past life, I had loathed my job. When a director with a short fuse yelled at me, I’d use Rupert’s name to storm off set, letting the whole production crash and burn. When the paparazzi ambushed me, I’d charge them, smash their expensive cameras to pieces, and have my lawyer follow up. When a young co-star tried to give Rupert a cake during a set visit, I’d have her fired immediately and then publicly call her out on social media. Everyone knew I was a nobody with an ego the size of a planet. My reputation was in the gutter. When you fall from grace, even the dogs will bite. In the end, I never even found out which of my many enemies had me killed. But in this life, I wasn’t making enemies. The director yells at me? I put my hands together and bow. “I’m so sorry, director. Can we please do one more take?” The paparazzi snap my picture? I bring them coffee. “Working hard, guys? Make sure you get my good side, okay?” A young actress brings a cake? I give her pointers. “Mr. Sterling prefers lime-flavored. Just a tip for next time.” My public image was soaring. Gleefully, I opened up my social media to bask in the trending topics about myself. But the first thing I saw was a headline that made my blood run cold: 【Ava Reed Steals Role】. The entire feed was a flood of outrage from Kelly Lister’s fans. My carefully rebuilt reputation crumbled in an instant. Before filming had even begun, the comments were already filled with calls to boycott the new show. As the online firestorm grew, I rushed to Rupert’s office. His secretary, who remembered my old diva antics, didn’t dare stop me. She just stammered, “Ms. Reed, Ms. Lister is still in there.” Is she? Then I have even more reason to go in. 5 If Kelly Lister shed a single tear, Rupert would snatch this role away from me without a second thought. I couldn’t let that happen. Kelly turned around as I entered. She was wearing heavy sunglasses, and her face was pale. She pointed a slender, accusing finger at me. “Rupert, are you really going to take this from me for her?” she said, her voice trembling. “I know I hurt you back then, but isn’t this revenge a little too cruel?” My gaze went past Kelly to Rupert, who was sitting at his desk, his expression impassive. The moment his eyes met mine, a flicker of indecision crossed his face. It was over. He was going to give the role to Kelly. I saw her sunglasses start to slip, revealing eyes already red-rimmed, a tear about to fall. I had to act first. I captured Rupert’s attention, my voice firm. “Mr. Sterling, you promised me this.” He tugged at the corner of his lip, annoyed. “You don’t even like acting. This can’t be that important to you.” “Of course it’s important.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Honestly, I understand you’re in a difficult position. I never expected fairness from you. But this was your promise, and I have stayed up every night for the past month studying this script. You’ve seen how hard I’ve worked.” I had been reading until dawn every night. Not wanting to disturb Rupert, I had started sleeping in the guest room. He’d put up with it for a few days, but after a week, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had stormed into the guest room, snatched the script from my hands, and thrown it onto the bed in the master suite. “You’ll read it under my watch,” he had grumbled. “I’d like to see what’s in this thin little booklet that requires a week of your time.” Rupert despised incompetence. He had mocked my slow pace, but he had also coached me, pointing out where my understanding of the character’s psychology was lacking. He had witnessed my effort. And it worked. The hesitation in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a look of deep curiosity. He didn’t say a word. He just buzzed his secretary and asked her to escort Kelly home. Once we were alone in the office, he rubbed his temples. “You’re not yourself lately,” he said. He was right. I didn’t cling to him anymore. In bed, I was passive, a silent partner offering neither initiation nor rejection, and certainly no emotional validation. When Kelly called him, I would quietly excuse myself, closing the door behind me. When he came home late, I was already sound asleep, getting my beauty rest instead of waiting up for him. I couldn’t help it. My days were packed: reading scripts, taking acting classes, managing my small investments. And now, here I was, reasoning with him like a business partner, devoid of any emotion. I smiled, and as a small reward, I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m busy, but I’m still obedient, aren’t I? Boss.” Rupert’s face soured. He waved a dismissive hand, telling me to leave. But I knew him. After two years, I knew that look. The role was mine. And sure enough, the trending topic vanished from social media. The show’s official account announced me as the female lead. Mission accomplished. Nothing else mattered.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386797”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I left the country, every lover Caroline Marsh found looked just like me. When her friends talked about me, they’d say, “Caroline’s old flame, the one that got away. If Noah ever came back, none of these other guys would stand a chance.” Then Caroline started dating a newly famous actor, a kid who looked nothing like me. And he was the first one she ever officially called her boyfriend. That was the year I rushed back home. Everyone was waiting for the show: the old flame, full of regret, begging for a second chance. Even Caroline dropped hints, a subtle warning: “Noah, you’ve come back at a bad time.” But they didn’t know. I wasn’t here to win Caroline back. I was back to get married. 1 Stepping out of the airport, I spotted Caroline in the crowd almost instantly. She was wearing a light beige trench coat, her figure as elegant as ever, her face etched with a maturity it didn’t have when I left. But the look on that face was impossibly complex. “They said you were coming back. I didn’t believe them.” I stopped, my hand resting on my luggage handle, and said coolly, “I’m just here to take care of a few things.” Caroline took the suitcase from my hand. “Your father asked me to pick you up. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I nodded and followed her to the underground parking garage. On the way, I glanced at my phone. A group chat that had been dead for ages was exploding. [Did Caroline really go pick Noah up? No way, is he actually back?] [What about her current boyfriend, that actor Leo Bright? Is she kicking him to the curb?] [Is that even a question? And why do you think Noah is suddenly back? He’s obviously here to win her back!] [Leo Bright is nothing. Just a novelty for Caroline. Now that Noah’s back, I’ll be shocked if she even spares Leo a glance.] [I’ve met Leo. Don’t underestimate him. Any man who can land Caroline is a force to be reckoned with.] Caroline noticed my buzzing phone. She glanced at the screen, then looked at me. “Noah, you’ve come back at a bad time.” She added, “I have a boyfriend now.” My hand, reaching for the passenger door, froze. I rerouted, opening the back door instead. Only two words left my lips: “Congratulations.” Caroline slammed her door with a little too much force. The Caroline I knew was always composed, free of bad habits, and fiercely private. But in the years I’d been away, I’d heard rumors of more than a dozen lovers. Her phone rang, and a clear, bright voice came through the speaker. “Caroline, I’m dying on set. Can you come and get me?” “Send me the address.” “Love you, love you!” Caroline hung up and turned to me with a smile. “You don’t mind if I take a detour to pick up my boyfriend, do you?” “Of course not.” I should have taken a cab. 2 Caroline parked the car near the film set. Amidst the bustling crowd, my eyes landed on Leo Bright. He was impossible to miss. Even bundled up, he had a star quality that was instantly recognizable. Fans were snapping pictures. Leo pulled down his mask just enough to reveal a gentle smile. “Thank you all for the love. My girlfriend isn’t in the public eye, so could you please not photograph her?” A fan shouted, “We heard your girlfriend is the heiress to the Marsh fortune. Is it true?” Leo didn’t deny it, just raised a finger to his lips in a “shh” gesture. Once in the car, he took off his sunglasses and planted a kiss on Caroline’s cheek. “Caroline, have you been waiting long?” His eyes flickered to me. “And you are?” I offered a polite smile. “Hello. I’m Noah Croft. A friend of Caroline’s.” Leo’s smile deepened. “Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Caroline naturally reached over and fastened his seatbelt for him. “All buckled in. Let’s go.” Leo chuckled. “Look at me, always forgetting. You always have to do it for me.” I turned my gaze to the window, avoiding the sight of their affection. We hadn’t been driving for long before Leo struck up a conversation with me. “Noah, in all your years abroad, did you ever have a girlfriend?” “I did,” I said honestly. “I knew it! A guy as handsome as you, you look like a movie star yourself. You must have women chasing you all the time, right? “Take Caroline, for example. She pursued me. All her friends say I’m different to her. “But I don’t quite get it. Do they mean she has some unforgettable old flame? I hear you and Caroline grew up together. You must know who it is. Come on, tell me.” He watched me, his eyes more probing than curious. Caroline’s brow furrowed. “I don’t have an old flame,” she said, her tone sharp. “They’re just teasing.” Leo pouted and started sulking on his phone. The rest of the drive was silent. When Caroline dropped me off at my family’s house, she didn’t even get out of the car. She rolled down the window. “My boyfriend’s upset. I have to go cheer him up, so I won’t come in. Say hello to your parents for me.” I was about to leave when Leo suddenly called out. “Noah, let’s exchange numbers.” I held out my phone for him to scan, but he shook his head. “No, you scan me. That way I know you’ll accept the request.” 3 My friends threw a small welcome-home party for me. No one expected Caroline to bring Leo Bright. Leo had come prepared with carefully selected gifts for everyone. Especially for me. “I hear Caroline thinks of you as a brother, Noah. So when we get married, you have to be my best man.” A few of my friends’ expressions soured. One of them turned to Caroline. “Caroline, aren’t you going to rein him in?” Caroline just smiled. “Do you want me to get punished when we get home?” Leo scratched his head sheepishly, grinning. He suggested a game of truth or dare. The bottle spun and landed on me. Everyone was eager to ask a question, but Leo stopped them. “Hold on! Let my girlfriend go first.” Caroline took a sip of her drink, her eyes fixed on me. “Did you have a girlfriend abroad?” I nodded. “Yes.” A few people gasped. Caroline’s best friend, a woman named Maya, tried to play it off. “Oh, come on, Noah’s just joking. A penalty shot for lying! I’ll drink it for him.” The next round, it was Caroline’s spin. The bottle pointed to me again. She asked, “What’s her name?” I answered, “I’d rather not say.” Leo laughed loudly. “Hahaha, Noah! Lucky you’re not an actor, your poker face is terrible. These women don’t get how a man’s mind works, but we’re both men. I can tell you’re lying from a mile away.” Caroline’s usual boy toys would never dare speak like that. But this was Leo Bright sitting next to her. The only boyfriend she had ever publicly acknowledged. Caroline’s silence was a form of permission. A small smile played on my lips. “Actors are experts at faking it, Mr. Bright. It’s a skill I’ve never had to learn.” The smile froze on Leo’s face. I’ve always considered myself good-natured, but my tongue can be sharp. It seemed Caroline hadn’t gotten around to telling Leo that part. But he had a thick skin. In a flash, he was smiling again, pouring me a drink. “A bet’s a bet. If you can’t answer, you drink. Your turn.” “Fine.” I downed the glass in one go. The bottle in Caroline’s hand seemed enchanted. The next spin landed on me again. She asked, almost without thinking, “Why did you come back?” 4 I chose not to answer this one. Caroline saw through me and slammed her hand down on the bottle to stop it from spinning. “Why did you come back?” I sighed in resignation. “To get married.” It wasn’t a big secret. I’d have to invite my friends to the wedding eventually anyway. “Pfft— Hahahahahahaha!” The room erupted in laughter. “It’s been years, but Noah’s pranks are still so childish.” “I think his real intentions are hidden somewhere else.” “Noah, you’re getting worse and worse at lying.” I looked at Leo. “So, I’m sorry, but I can’t be your best man. My wedding is at the beginning of next month.” He asked, his curiosity piqued, “Is it the girlfriend you had abroad? Come on, Noah, just tell us. It’s not like we’re going to judge her if she’s not good enough, right?” I didn’t owe him an explanation. I just said calmly, “She’s an amazing woman, but I can’t disclose her identity.” Caroline suddenly stood up and pulled on Leo’s arm. “Leo, your acting is much better than his. I can’t watch this farce anymore. Let’s go.” Maya grabbed her, whispering in her ear, “Don’t, Caroline. If you miss this chance, who knows how long you’ll have to wait again?” Caroline shook her off. “When was I ever waiting for him? Huh?” “I’ve played with more men than I can count these past few years. Every single one of them was better than Noah Croft.” The words died on Maya’s lips. My eyes met Caroline’s. Her gaze was trembling. I stood frozen, a cold dread washing over me, feeling the blood turn to ice in my veins. “Caroline, have you no shame?” A faint, mocking smile touched her lips. “None of your business.” 5 After the party, Maya cornered me. “Noah, are you really getting married? Is it true?” I nodded calmly. “It’s true.” She sighed. “You don’t have to lie to me. Others might not know, but I do. The only thing between you and Caroline is that one hurdle from the past. The truth is, Caroline—” I cut her off. “Maya, it’s not a hurdle. It’s a person.” “I’m really getting married this time. I’m not lying to you, and I’m not doing this out of spite.” Maya looked as if she’d been struck. “Noah! Have you seen what’s become of Caroline these past few years? How could you…” “I wasn’t here, but you were, weren’t you?” “For years, Caroline has looked at man after man who resembles you, and the thing she says most often is, “‘He looks like him, but he’s not him.’” I let out a long, weary sigh. “But you saw it too, Maya. She still hates me.” … Halfway home, Caroline’s car screeched to a halt. She gave Leo his marching orders. “Get out.” Leo’s expression tightened, but he forced a smile. “What, you say you don’t believe him, but the second you hear he’s getting married, you fly into a rage?” Caroline’s face grew even darker. “Leo Bright, know your place. I can have you blacklisted with a single word.” Faced with a choice between his career and his pride, Leo chose the former. He had thought he was different to Caroline. No other man had ever sat in her passenger seat. No other man had she ever publicly called her boyfriend. Other men had been dumped for simply mentioning Noah Croft’s name. Leo didn’t believe Noah was the “unforgettable old flame” everyone talked about. He thought what Caroline felt was closer to hate. She had loved him once, but that love had curdled into resentment. Every man wanted to be the Marsh family’s son-in-law. Now that he, Leo Bright, had his foot in the door, he had to give it everything he had to cross the threshold. 6 Leo Bright posted on his social media. It was a picture he had secretly taken of me. The lighting in the private room was dim, so it was only a shot of my back. The caption read: [I hear your old flame is back in town. I guess that makes me nothing but a smudge of mosquito blood on the wall.] A minute later, he deleted it. Leo was an A-lister Caroline had built from the ground up. His every move was headline news. And this time, my name was in the trending topics. His fans were furious: [What old flame? He’s the one who dumped Caroline in the first place, and now he can’t stand to see our Leo happy, so he’s back to ruin things.] [Oh my god, so he’s a homewrecker?] [He’s not just a homewrecker, he’s a murderer. He caused the death of a mutual friend he and Caroline shared.] [Not many people know what happened back then, but let’s just say Noah Croft is from one of those untouchable elite families. You can guess the rest~] [Is Leo being threatened? If you’re being threatened, post a period on your next update.] Leo’s next post was, indeed, just a single period. He deleted it moments later. He had stirred the pot once again. When he showed up at my door to apologize, he still wore a mask of innocence. “I’m so sorry, Noah. I just posted a line from a script. I had no idea people would react so strongly and start this online mob against you. I’m really sorry.” His eyes were red from crying. I said coldly, “You want me to suffer, but you don’t want to offend my family. Leo Bright, you can’t have it both ways.” “Noah, I know what they’re saying is true. You and Caroline had a past, so I understand why you’re targeting me. But please, leave Caroline out of this.” Just as I was about to speak, Leo suddenly stumbled forward, his head slamming hard against the edge of a table. Caroline walked in at that exact moment. She rushed to help the now unconscious Leo, blood gushing from his forehead, staining her shoulder crimson. “Noah, I already had the trending topics taken down for you. Don’t you think you’re taking this too far?” I roared, “Who do you think sicced his fans on me in the first place?” Caroline sneered. “But Noah, were they wrong? Did you not dump me without a word? Did you not cause a man’s death? Hmm?” The words caught in my throat. Without looking back, she supported Leo and hurried him to the hospital. 7 I drove to the cemetery. The sun was shining, the air was calm, but the place still felt heavy. I stood before a headstone and pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I lit one and placed it on the ground. “Your favorite.” I looked at the picture of the smiling young man on the stone, his life forever frozen at twenty. Finn. An orphan, with no parents to speak of. Back then, the three of us were inseparable. One day, while helping Finn move, his notebook fell out in my car. And just like that, a page that would change all our lives lay open on the back seat. A picture of Caroline was taped to a corner of the page. Finn’s feelings for her had been translated into words that filled every inch of space around her photo. At the time, Caroline and I had just ended a six-year secret crush and had been officially together for less than a year. For all seven of those years, Finn had been by Caroline’s side. I confronted Caroline in a rage, and we had a massive fight. “Finn has been in love with you for this long, and you never noticed? You kept him by your side for seven years! Were you two hiding this from me together?” Caroline screamed back, “What are you talking about? How could Finn possibly be in love with me?” I slapped the page from his notebook onto her desk. “See for yourself! This is how he’s been in love with you for seven years!” Caroline’s gaze wasn’t on the notebook. It was on something behind me. I turned and saw Finn’s face, pale as a ghost. He fled in a panic. At an intersection just a block from her apartment, he was hit by a car. He died instantly. It was only later, when I finally read the last page of his notebook, that a tidal wave of grief washed over me. Finn had written: [It’s so rare for two people to love each other. Noah and Caroline are my best friends. They have to be happy.] Tears streamed down my face, consumed by a regret so deep it felt like a physical wound. Caroline and I were both twenty years old then. Our love was young and fragile. Weighed down by a life, it quickly shattered. From that day on, there was always a trace of hatred in her eyes when she looked at me. Finn was my friend, but to Caroline, he was family. When the cold ocean water rose to my chest, a kind stranger pulled me back. She yelled at me, “You’re so young! What gives you the right to give up on life?” “Because I caused a life to be lost. I owe him this.” “Listen to me! If you die, you get an easy way out. How can you be so selfish? You want to atone? Then live with this guilt forever!” I chose to run from Caroline, carrying my guilt with me to another country. I went to Murmansk, the city Finn loved most. A port that never freezes, a guilt that never thaws. 8 Leo Bright, a massive bandage on his forehead, started a livestream. His fans were outraged: [Leo, what happened? Did someone hit you? Tell us, don’t be afraid, we’ll protect you!] [Just a passerby, but I can’t watch this anymore. Call the police, man.] [OMG I’m crying my eyes out, someone please save this kind soul.] Leo managed a pale smile. “Don’t worry everyone, I was just clumsy and bumped into something.” He tilted the camera slightly, and Caroline’s back came into view. She seemed to be cooking for him. Leo said, “Alright my dear fans, cheer up, no more tears. I’m actually happy this happened. It’s a blessing in disguise. My girlfriend is finally willing to come home and cook for me.” [Meaning she was tied up with that homewrecker this whole time? Noah Croft is a monster!] [Don’t be moved by one meal! You’re always so kind, who’s going to look out for you?] [Noah Croft can go to hell!] Just before Caroline could turn around, Leo straightened the camera. He deliberately defended me: “Everyone has it wrong. Noah is a dear friend to both of us. I hope you all will stop disturbing a private citizen’s life and give him some peace, okay?” The comments grew more and more vitriolic. Watching them, Leo’s smile deepened. He ended the livestream. Across the city, I put down my phone. I rubbed my brow, a headache blooming. Just then, an unsaved number called. A gentle female voice. “Noah, my flight back lands tomorrow afternoon. We need to discuss our wedding plans.” My grip tightened on the phone. “Okay. I’ll pick you up.” That night, a rumor started spreading through the city’s elite circles. The powerhouse lawyer, the one who made titans of industry tremble, Claire Lowell, was coming home. Someone had once dared to sum her up. If you don’t want to get sued, don’t cross Claire Lowell. 9 At the capital airport. Claire Lowell, in a black overcoat, her figure slim and her aura commanding, stood out in the crowd. I hurried towards her. “Welcome home, Counselor.” Claire looked at me with a soft expression and leaned up to kiss my cheek. “Noah, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you.” That night, I stayed at Claire’s apartment. After a passionate encounter, she lay softly on my chest. I asked her, “Claire, are you confident about that case?” Claire looked up at me, her eyes glinting with a playful smile. “Instead of asking about our wedding, you’re focused on a case? Noah, you’re too eager.” I pouted. “Who’s eager? I’ve already made the arrangements. I’m going for a tuxedo fitting tomorrow, and you’re coming with me.” “Okay.” I turned off the light but couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. The next day, at the bridal shop, I ran into Leo Bright. He was in a white tuxedo, preening in front of a mirror. When he saw me, his smile vanished. “Noah, what are you doing here?” I then noticed he was holding his phone, seemingly livestreaming. Leo spoke to the screen: “Fans, calm down. Noah has great taste. Maybe Caroline sent him to give me some advice. “The wedding date? Caroline is already looking at dates. Good news is just around the corner.” He strode over, positioning himself to take a selfie with me. “Noah, say hi to my fans. And maybe clarify your relationship with Caroline, so they don’t get the wrong idea, right?” The comment section exploded. [What bridal shop is that? I’m on my way to get revenge for my boy!] [He’s so ugly! Is there no standard for homewreckers these days?] [Ugh, can the scumbag who breaks up relationships just die already!] I slapped the phone out of his hand. “Leo Bright, stop this online mob. As a public figure, you have no integrity.” He glanced at the dark screen of his phone and smirked. “Caroline and I are getting married. Aren’t you panicking?” “I’m panicking like crazy, okay? Now you’re in my way. Move.” A familiar voice cut through the air. “I’m quite sure I called the manager to book the entire store. Why are random people being allowed in?” Caroline appeared behind us. Leo’s face transformed into a smile as he walked towards her. “Caroline, thank god you’re here. Noah suddenly lost control. He even smashed my phone. I don’t blame him, he’s probably just a little emotional.” Caroline stared at me coldly. “Noah, what are you trying to pull this time?” “Does he need to explain himself to you?” Claire Lowell walked towards me, taking off her sunglasses as she did. She linked her arm through mine. “Sorry I’m a little late, Noah. Had to deal with something.” Caroline took a step forward, her eyes narrowing at the newcomer. “Claire Lowell?” Claire smiled. “A pleasure. I’m Claire Lowell. Noah’s fiancée.”

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I died on my way to call him. On the other end of the line, he was humming a tune, making me dinner. But in the blink of an eye, that same man calmly claimed my shattered remains and turned our home into a love nest for him and his old flame. Ten years of marriage, and he never shed a single tear for me. I hated him for his cold heart, hated that I’d wasted a decade on him. Reborn, facing him again, I tore up our engagement and had only one thing to say— “Go chase what you want. I’m done playing along.” 1 My head was still spinning from the dizzying sensation of being a disembodied spirit when Toby’s sharp scoff cut through the haze. “So, you were just messing with me.” “How many times have you pulled this stunt now?” A wave of vertigo washed over me, and I paled, grabbing the back of a chair to steady myself as I sank into it. Toby just watched me, his expression perfectly calm. “No,” I managed to say. “From now on, be with whoever you want. I won’t force you into anything anymore.” “The engagement… I was being impulsive.” Toby strode over to me, his fists clenching at his sides. “You promised you’d get your father to invest in my family’s company. Are you backing out?” A sudden, mocking smile twisted his lips. “I should have known. You never stick with anything for more than five minutes.” At the mention of the investment, a flicker of anxiety broke through his calm facade. He loomed over me like a wall, and the dizziness intensified, a sour knot forming in my stomach. I kicked lightly at his shin. “Get me a glass of ice water.” At my command, his tension vanished in an instant, replaced by that familiar, placid obedience. As I took the glass, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. It felt just like our past life, in our home. He’d come back from work, ready to cook, and I’d be lounging on the sofa, ordering him to wash fruit for me, demanding a leg massage while he was between stirring pots. I looked up and met his eyes, now perfectly serene again. How did he do it? I wondered. How did he serve a woman he didn’t love, share a bed with her for ten long years? A bitter pang shot through my heart. It must have been unbearable. I lowered my gaze and answered his question. “My family will still make the investment.” Toby’s father was a man of immense pride. His company, Keystone Foods, had built its reputation on quality, earning trust slowly but surely. But in this cutthroat market, surviving was a struggle. They were facing a massive overhaul, and if my family pulled our funding now, it would be a devastating blow. His father, with all his pride, would never recover. That’s why Toby endured it all. He endured me. For that debt of gratitude, he gave up the girl he truly loved and agreed to every single one of my unreasonable demands. Even later, after his family’s company was well past the crisis, he never broke his promise to me. He took care of me for ten years. He just didn’t love me. But now, thankfully, it wasn’t too late to change things. “It will be a standard investment contract, with dividends based on the shares. If problems come up later, I’ll even consider a second round of funding. Keystone is a good company. I grew up eating your family’s snacks. There are no strings attached.” I took a deep breath. After all, for ten years, I had genuinely loved him. Pushing down the wistful ache in my chest, I continued, “Forcing you before was my mistake. I won’t do it again.” I met his gaze directly. He looked right back at me, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. I stood up, turned my back to him, and opened the door, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “This time, I want to try with someone else.” Toby’s footsteps were hurried, almost frantic, as he left. He was probably terrified I’d change my mind. 2 Toby was raised in a loving home by adoring parents, a true gentleman. When I was little, my father would often take me to visit his family, and he always treated me with perfect hospitality, never showing a hint of impatience with my childish tantrums. It wasn’t until I accidentally learned he had followed his neighbor, Rosalyn, to Bayside University that I understood. All his patience, all his composure, was just the politeness one shows a guest. Even someone as brilliant as him had a love he couldn’t have. Rosalyn was beautiful and talented, but I wasn’t so bad myself. I was so naive back then. I really thought that, given enough time, he would eventually fall in love with me. For ten years, we got along well enough, like any ordinary married couple. It created the illusion that we were in love. But I wasn’t even cold in my grave for a week before he moved Rosalyn into our home. I was like the villainess in a romance novel, the one who tears the main characters apart. And in the end, I got what was coming to me. I gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the brilliant blue sea and sky. There was nothing better than being alive again. To prove I was serious, I had my dad complete the investment the very next day. And we officially called off the pending engagement. My father gave me a long, meaningful look as he signed my name on the investment contract. It was now officially me, not my family, investing in Toby’s company. Even my own father could see how I felt about him. I didn’t bother trying to explain. Neither family ever mentioned the engagement again. 3 Back on campus, the university felt enormous. We were in different departments—he was in finance, I was in fine arts. It was perfectly normal that our paths never crossed. A full month passed without a single sighting of Toby. At first, it felt strange, a void in my routine. So I threw myself into college life to keep my mind busy. I started feeding the stray cats on campus. I joined the outdoor hiking club. I shared pictures of my sculptures, my clothes perpetually covered in clay. I went on sketching trips with my classmates. My roommates started a betting pool in our group chat, guessing whether I had truly moved on or was just trying a new strategy. They’d all seen how obsessed I was with Toby before. They chatted away as if I wasn’t even in the group. I rolled my eyes and typed back a message. “So what are the odds?” Chloe replied: “Four to one… P.S., I’m the one.” Even though they all thought I’d be back to chasing him in no time, I was serious this time. I was done with Toby Grant. I placed a bet on myself. That evening, Jimmy showed up. He roared up in a flashy sports car, his hair a shock of bleached blond, and bellowed my name outside the sculpture studio. “Claire!” He lunged forward to throw an arm around my neck but screeched to a halt when he saw the clay splattered all over me. “Heard you invested in Toby’s family company, but now you’re avoiding him?” His eyes were gleaming with gossip. “What’s the deal? Playing hard to get?” I shot him a withering glare. “Get your mind out of the gutter!” I turned to go back into the studio, having zero interest in talking to him. We’d been close since we were kids, distant cousins thrice removed. He was a classic slacker who coasted through life, and his dad had finally shipped him off to a university abroad. I still remember the look of utter betrayal on his face when he saw my stellar college entrance exam scores. But for all the good his “study abroad” did, he was constantly flying back. Jimmy stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe I could, you know, tie him up for you? Let you have your wicked way with him?” I took a deep breath and turned back to him with a saccharine smile. The next second, all the wet clay from my hands was smeared across his face. He let out a howl like a pig being slaughtered. “Claire Sterling, I’m gonna kill you!” As I dodged his flailing attack, I glanced down the hallway and saw Toby standing at the far end, holding two cups of bubble tea. It was the first time I’d seen him since that day. Remembering that his “one true love,” Rosalyn, had classes in this building, it all made sense. He watched us with a cold, flat expression, let out a quiet scoff, and turned and walked away. “What’s his problem?” I muttered. Later, while we were grabbing spicy hot pot, Jimmy brought up Toby again. “What’s really going on with you two?” “I just don’t like him anymore, that’s all.” Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean, you don’t like him anymore?” “Is it because he’s in love with Rosalyn?” I snatched a piece of tripe from his chopsticks and rolled my eyes. “You already know, so why ask?” A look of profound tragedy crossed his face. “Oh, my dearest Rosalyn… Now that punk is really going to snatch her away.” His words struck a chord, and a wave of sadness washed over me. That night, two souls unlucky in love drank themselves into a stupor. My roommate, Chloe, who was just getting off one of her many part-time jobs, had to drag me home. The next morning, she gleefully showed me a video of Jimmy and me belting out sad love songs in the middle of the street. She used it as blackmail to get me to cover her volunteer shift for the debate club. The girl juggled eighteen part-time jobs, and this time, her schedule was just too packed. 4 I never thought I’d cross paths with Toby again. But there he was, in the debate club room. He was organizing files on a shelf. He froze for a second when I walked in, then turned back to his task without a word. An awkward silence fell. He probably thought I’d come here on purpose, chasing him. Neither of us spoke. I started cleaning, just as Chloe had asked. To be honest, it was a little harder than I expected. I was standing on a wobbly table, stretching to wipe the top of a window, when the table suddenly shifted. I lost my balance and started to fall. I braced for the impact, but the pain never came. Instead, a pair of searing hot hands wrapped around my waist, catching me. My face flushed instantly. My mind flashed back to my past life, after Toby and I were married. He was usually so silent, so restrained. Except in bed. In the dark, he would grip my waist with that same fierce, burning intensity, his breath coming in heavy gasps. His hands were always so hot. He wouldn’t say a word, just work with a relentless focus. It was only when I begged for mercy, my voice hoarse, that he would finally relent, his mouth moving to my lips, giving me a moment’s reprieve. I drifted for a moment. So, we did have moments that felt like love. “Get down.” A cold voice from behind me snapped me out of my memories. I felt a surge of embarrassment. He probably thought I fell on purpose. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking deeply annoyed. Just as I was trying to figure out how to explain myself, my phone rang. I scrambled to answer it, grateful for the escape. It was Jimmy. He sounded like he’d just woken up. “Claire, my dear cousin! For the sake of your happiness, your big bro is going to give it another shot!” My blood ran cold. Give what another shot? I had a terrible feeling he was about to do something monumentally stupid. I rushed out to find him, circling the campus until I finally spotted him in front of the dorms. But Toby had found him first. By the time I arrived, Jimmy was in a standoff with Toby. It was a grand, over-the-top display. The ground was littered with rose petals. Rosalyn, dressed in a white sundress, stood behind Toby, looking completely bewildered. I walked closer, my heart sinking with a familiar ache. Seeing them together like this, it still hurt. It was a dull, lingering pain. In my past life, shortly after I forced Toby to marry me, Rosalyn’s family went bankrupt. Toby immediately sent her abroad. I was so happy then. I thought, with her gone, nothing would stand in our way. Looking back now, I realize he was just protecting her. He must have thought that with her family ruined, she would be vulnerable to my jealousy. He really, truly loved her. Just like now. Rosalyn was the one being confessed to. But it was Toby standing in front of her, shielding her, rejecting Jimmy on her behalf. Rosalyn’s eyes were red-rimmed as she gently tugged on Toby’s sleeve, shaking her head. Then, her eyes met mine across the crowd. She looked like she wanted to say something, to explain, but her lips parted and closed, and in the end, she just lowered her gaze. The scene felt strangely familiar. I remembered, after I died in my past life, when Toby brought Rosalyn home, Jimmy had shown up just like this, making a scene. He had pointed a finger in Toby’s face, screaming at him, demanding he let Rosalyn go. He accused Toby of betraying me. My spirit had floated nearby, trying to explain. “No, he didn’t cheat on me.” “I know him. He would never do something like that.” “I was the one who forced him to be with me.” “He didn’t betray me. He can go back to the woman he loves now.” “These past ten years, I’m the one who wronged him.” “Jimmy, I’m dead. He’s free.” But no one could hear me. That day was the seventh day after my death. I walked toward the small group. Toby’s gaze landed on me, his eyes cold as ice. He was looking at me as if to say: You’re despicable, Claire. Sending Jimmy to hit on Rosalyn. Jimmy stood opposite them, his usually wild hair looking limp and defeated. Looking at the sea of roses and the mountain of luxury gifts piled in his sports car, I couldn’t help but grimace at his tacky taste. Any normal girl would be dying of secondhand embarrassment from a spectacle like this. Jimmy must have had rocks for brains to think this was a good idea. He seemed to be realizing it himself now. He shot me a desperate look and whispered, “Help me.” “If my dad sees I’m back in the country and pulling this kind of stunt, I’m dead meat!” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “You didn’t ask for my help before you pulled this stunt. Now that you’ve made a fool of yourself, it’s too late to ask for a rescue!” Jimmy grit his teeth. “It wasn’t my idea! I just wanted to give her some flowers and confess. My idiot friends are the ones who turned it into this circus.” I glanced over and, sure enough, saw a few of his usual cronies huddled together, whispering and snickering. As the crowd grew more restless, Jimmy clenched his jaw and made a final, desperate offer. “Save me, and I’ll steal my dad’s yacht for you. We can throw a party. With male models.” I nodded instantly. “Deal.” I turned, took the bouquet of roses from Jimmy’s hand, and fixed Rosalyn with my most deeply emotional gaze. “Rosalyn, I’ve admired you for so long. Do you like these roses? I had them flown in fresh from Bulgaria just for you.” Then, as if just noticing Toby, I gasped and covered my mouth in feigned shock. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you already had a boyfriend.” I pretended to tear up. “It seems I was a step too late. In the next life, I’ll be sure to find you sooner!” From the crowd, a student piped up. “Wait, didn’t Claire used to be chasing Toby?” Rosalyn looked at me, her expression confused. I froze. This was not going according to plan. Another student offered an explanation. “It’s a diversion tactic! She was trying to weaken the enemy from within, but when that failed, she decided to go all in!” A murmur of understanding went through the crowd. Rosalyn’s expression grew complicated, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my heartbroken performance. “My lady, you must be happy. I shall retreat. And with my retreat…” Jimmy clamped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, she’s just overcome with grief and talking nonsense. I’ll take her somewhere to recover.” I was just getting into character and shot him an indignant glare. Across from us, Rosalyn reached out a hand dramatically, but before she could say anything, Toby covered her mouth too. And just like that, the confessor and the confessee were both silenced and dragged away by their respective captors. As we were leaving, I glanced back one last time. Toby’s eyes were dark, inscrutable. Rosalyn was staring after us, a lost look on her face. And Jimmy and I were running for our lives. 5 The next time I saw Toby was at the celebration party for his family company’s successful new project. I was there with my father. Mr. Grant was in high spirits, pulling Toby along as he came to toast our table. “We really owe it all to you and Claire this time,” he beamed. “My friend, Mr. Lee, just opened a new amusement park and invited all the kids to go have some fun, help him get the word out.” I politely declined. “I’ve been quite busy lately. I’m afraid I’ll have to miss out on the fun, Uncle.” My dad chimed in to explain. “She’s preparing her applications to study abroad. There’s a lot to get done.” Toby’s head snapped up, and he stared at me, his gaze intense. I pretended not to notice. He probably thought I was following his precious Rosalyn overseas to torment her. We weren’t even applying to schools in the same country. Still, Toby pressed. “It’s just for a day. Everyone’s going. It’ll be a good way to relax.” His father quickly agreed. “Exactly! One day won’t hurt anything.” “Toby, you take good care of your little sister Claire, make sure she stays safe.” I was still trying to come up with another excuse when I heard Toby quickly agree. I blinked, surprised. He was acting strangely tonight. In my last life, I was the one who arranged this trip. I’d assumed that since I hadn’t planned it this time, it wouldn’t happen. My dad nudged me, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. He whispered in my ear, “I’ve been observing that Toby boy. He seems to have good character—smart, hardworking. A suitable marriage prospect. You’re not getting any younger, you know. It’s time you started dating.” “Besides, didn’t you want to marry him before?” I was speechless. How was I supposed to tell him I’d already test-driven this “suitable prospect”? The packaging was fine, but the contents were a little faulty. “Dad, someone who’s good for marriage isn’t always good for dating. Besides, he already has someone he likes.” My dad looked crestfallen. “See? You waited too long to make your move!” I rolled my eyes and walked away. Too long? He’d been in love with Rosalyn since they were kids. The only way I could have been earlier is if I’d made my move in the womb.

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James Kane’s latest mistress was a real firecracker. She showed up pregnant and screaming at the office. Everyone’s head snapped toward me. Someone whispered to her, trying to de-escalate. “You should get out of here. Mrs. Kane will beat you until you miscarry. She lost her mind a long time ago.” James, rushing to the scene, pulled the mistress behind him, his eyes wary as he faced me. “If you’re going to hit someone, hit me. Don’t you dare touch her.” The entire office fell deathly silent, everyone waiting for my reaction. Waiting for me to erupt into hysterics, to shatter everything in sight, just like I used to. But instead, I turned to leave. As I walked, I admired my fresh manicure. A simple, dusty rose. Perfect for my date tonight. I’d gone to so much trouble to look this beautiful today. I wasn’t about to let it get ruined. 1 I had just stepped out of the conference room when a woman’s voice called out from behind me. “Excuse me, do you know where I can find Summer Sterling?” Someone answered in a hushed tone. “You need an appointment to see Mrs. Kane.” The woman’s voice immediately rose, laced with a certain brash confidence. “I’m Mr. Kane’s partner. I need to have a little chat with her.” It was strange. Her voice wasn’t that loud, but the words hung in the air, and the entire lobby fell silent. The air felt thick, every eye turning silently toward me. The crowd parted automatically, creating a path. The woman understood immediately. She walked straight toward me. Her footsteps stopped right behind me, carrying a cloud of cloying perfume. “You’re Summer Sterling?” I turned and calmly looked her over. She was thin, her body wrapped in a tight white dress that made her look even more fragile. Except for her belly, which swelled conspicuously, like a grotesquely oversized fruit on a delicate stem. She tilted her chin up at me, her expression defiant. “I’m here to tell you that James is mine now. It’s been over between you two for a long time. He told me himself—the sight of you makes him sick! If you have any shame left, you’ll get lost and stop clinging to him!” I almost laughed. “I’m clinging to him?” “Still playing dumb!” She ignited like a match, her voice turning shrill. “Last night, he was supposed to be with me for my prenatal check-up, but you called and he went running right back! What else can you do besides trap him with that ‘Mrs. Kane’ title? Do you have any idea how much he despises you?!” So that was it. No wonder James was so late for our fifth wedding anniversary last night. He was busy escorting his little mistress to a doctor’s appointment. I raised a hand, intending to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. But she flinched back violently, her hands flying to shield her stomach as she shrieked, “What do you think you’re doing?! Are you going to hit a pregnant woman in front of all these people?!” I watched her, a small smirk playing on my lips. “Well, since you’ve already accused me, I might as well do something to earn the reputation, right?” Her face went white, and she stumbled back toward the edge of the crowd. Someone whispered to her, “You need to leave. Mrs. Kane… she’s made several of his mistresses miscarry before. She’s unhinged. You can’t win. Go, before she really does something!” The girl hesitated for a few seconds, then seemed to gather her courage, taking another step forward to glare at me. “You’ll pay for all the terrible things you’ve done! You’ll get what’s coming to you!” She paused, a bright smile spreading across her face. “In fact, you already are. You love James so much, but he doesn’t love you back! That’s your punishment!” 2 A collective gasp went through the room. I just watched her, my expression unreadable. This girl was different from the others James had picked. Most of them were the weeping, damsel-in-distress type. But she was like a wild rose, all thorns. Spitfire. Direct. Full of aggression. She tried to wound me with the fact that James didn’t love me, but it was such an amateur move. I’d heard those same words repeated by a parade of women over the years. My heart had long since grown a thick callus. The words didn’t hurt anymore. But she really shouldn’t have bothered me today. I had been in such a good mood—new nails, fresh makeup, an important date planned. And now, thanks to her little scene, that good mood had vanished like smoke in the wind. I sighed internally. These women were all the same. They’d find me, then they’d harass me. Either to flaunt how much James adored them, or to earnestly plead with me to let him go. But they never listened when I told them the truth: I didn’t love James anymore. They just kept coming, one after another, shattering my peace. At first, it was a headache. Then I discovered a simple solution: one slap. They would whimper and run into James’s arms, get the attention and pity they craved, and finally, finally leave me alone. My gaze settled on her face. A delicate, palm-sized face with pale skin. The perfect shape for slapping. It wouldn’t take much effort. So, without any hesitation, I raised my hand and swung, clean and sharp, right at that face. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body curling into a ball. But the expected crack of a slap never came. My wrist was caught mid-air, held in a powerful grip that sent a jolt of pain through my bones. “Summer!” It was James. 3 James shielded the girl completely, his eyes fixed on me, full of suspicion. “Summer, if you’re going to hit someone, hit me. Don’t you dare touch her.” Before he even finished, the girl started to sob. Her voice was thick with tears, but her words were crystal clear. “Why should she hit you?! James, she’s the one clinging to you, refusing to sign the divorce papers! You two haven’t been a real couple in years, you don’t even want to touch her! You’ve wanted out for so long, and she’s the one holding you back!” James immediately let go of my wrist and turned to wipe the tears from the girl’s—Aria’s—face with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s not good for the baby. I’ll get the divorce. I promise, I’ll find a way.” Aria’s shoulders trembled as she cried, and she leaned into his embrace, her voice muffled against his chest. “I just feel so bad for you… for all the pain you’ve had to endure in that marriage.” James let out a low chuckle. “It’s nothing. As long as you and the baby are safe and healthy, none of it matters.” The girl’s sobs turned into a small, contented laugh. The entire lobby was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioning. Everyone looked from them, to me, and back again. Their expressions were a mix of curiosity, pity, and the sheer thrill of watching a good show. I could even catch a few heavily suppressed whispers. “Why isn’t Mrs. Kane doing anything this time?” “She’s probably waiting to pull out the big guns. I bet that baby’s not making it to term…” I shook my head wearily. I’d put so much effort into looking beautiful today. I couldn’t let it get messed up. I turned to leave. A clear, steady male voice sounded from behind me. “Having a bit of fun, Mr. Kane?” The crowd parted again, and a tall, imposing figure, flanked by several executives, walked toward us. The man’s eyes landed on me first, his expression dark and unreadable. After a few seconds, his gaze shifted to James. A flicker of awkwardness crossed James’s face. He stepped forward and extended a hand toward the newcomer, his tone overly formal. “Mr. Davenport. Please excuse the mess.” Rhys Davenport glanced coolly at the outstretched hand but made no move to shake it. “Always surrounded by beautiful women, Mr. Kane. Is there any time left for business?” James’s hand froze in mid-air, and his face instantly soured. The shareholders standing nearby quickly jumped in, laughing nervously. “Just joking, Mr. Davenport! Our Mr. Kane is just too charming for his own good. It’s a testament to his abilities, haha…” I had no interest in watching the rest of this farce. I turned to go. “Summer!” James called out after me. “Where are you going? Mr. Davenport was your classmate in college. You should at least stay and entertain an old friend.” I didn’t stop, just threw a cool reply over my shoulder. “I’m busy.” Then, Rhys’s voice cut in from behind me. “I’ll be skipping the welcome dinner tonight. I have a date with my girlfriend. I’ll be leaving now.” James quickly responded, “Congratulations, Mr. Davenport! Then perhaps another time. Bring your girlfriend along, we’ll all have a meal together.” Rhys let out a soft, ambiguous laugh but didn’t answer. His eyes lingered on my back for a brief moment before he turned and headed for the same exit I was walking toward. 4 The moment I opened my car door, a shadow fell over me. An all-consuming kiss descended, powerful and demanding, stealing the air from my lungs. Just before I thought I would pass out from lack of oxygen, he finally released me. In the dim light of the parking garage, his eyes churned with a dark tide I couldn’t decipher. His large hand stroked my back, helping me calm my ragged breathing. I leaned against his chest, quietly steadying myself. Once my breathing had evened out, I spoke, my voice lazy. “Alright, you can go on your date now. I’m heading home.” From above me came his deep voice, laced with something between amusement and exasperation. “And who do you think my girlfriend is?” I looked up, meeting his gaze in the gloom, my tone flat. “Rhys, I’m already letting you be my lover. Now you want a title? You can’t have everything.” He didn’t get angry. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his arms tightening around me. “James cycles through women like they’re disposable. Are you really going to waste your whole life on him like this? Is it worth it?” “No.” My answer was instant, without a shred of hesitation. “But I’m not divorcing him.” The only sound in the car was our breathing. After a long moment, he spoke again. “My looks, my family, my wealth… even how I feel about you. In what way am I inferior to him? Summer, I don’t understand.” I smiled softly, my fingers toying with the buttons on his suit jacket. “I want the company. And I want the money. For those two things, I can tolerate being married to James Kane.” It was the first time I had ever voiced my true motivations to anyone. It wasn’t about love or attachment. It was about cold, hard reality. I wanted the money. I had been there with James from the beginning, when he had nothing. I practically built that company with my own two hands. When I stepped back and let him take full control, it wasn’t because I was incapable. It was because I trusted him. We were both orphans. We only had each other in the world. But reality taught me that my trust had been misplaced. After the love was gone and I was exhausted, there were times when I was pushed to the brink, times I considered walking away with nothing just for a moment of peace. But I couldn’t stomach it. Why should the empire I built be split in half, at best, just so he could share it with his whores? I would rather rot in this swamp with him than watch what was mine be given to those two. Rhys raised an eyebrow. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You little gold-digger,” he murmured, lowering his head until our foreheads touched, his voice a deep whisper. “I’ll help you.” 计费点 This time, I was the one who kissed him first. The car started smoothly, pulling out of the underground garage. As we passed the exit, the headlights swept across James and his mistress, who was clinging to him by the side of the road. James glanced instinctively toward the car. Through the tinted window, he saw me locked in a passionate, all-consuming kiss with Rhys Davenport. 5 I pushed open the door to my house. Rhys had insisted that last night was the 100-day anniversary of our relationship and had pressed a Harry Winston diamond ring into my hand. The box felt heavy in my purse. I needed to put it away safely. The entryway lights were off, and the living room was dim. As I took off my shoes, I noticed a figure sitting on the sofa. Before I could make out who it was, a voice, hoarse from a sleepless night, spoke. “Where were you last night?” It was James. I frowned slightly, wondering why he was even asking. It dawned on me then that he must have been waiting up all night. We had long since settled into a routine of silent warfare, so I didn’t answer, simply walked toward the bedroom. “Sign it.” His voice came from behind me. I turned back. On the coffee table was a document, black ink on white paper. Divorce papers. “No,” I said, my voice flat. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh and stood up. “Summer, what’s the point of clinging on like this? She’s pregnant. She needs a proper family. Even if you won’t think about us, can’t you think about an innocent child?” “A child?” I repeated the word softly, looking up at him. “At the rate you’re going, will there be another woman, another child who needs a family in two months? Are you planning to marry every single one of them, give every child your name?” His brow furrowed, but his tone softened slightly. “She’s different. Aria’s an orphan. She only has me.” “An orphan?” I echoed the word, a sense of absurdity rising in my chest. And what was I? Who was it that stood under the old locust tree at the orphanage, his eyes red-rimmed, and said to me, “Summer, we’re both orphans. We only have each other in this world. Don’t leave me.” For those words, I gave up the chance to be adopted, choosing to stay at the orphanage with him. Seeing that I was unmoved, James sighed and explained further. “She has Long QT syndrome.” I froze. A congenital heart condition. Emotional distress or overexertion could trigger sudden death. The orphanage never had healthy baby boys. It was because of this condition that James had been abandoned. In the early days of our business, how many nights had I spent working alone at the office, all because he couldn’t risk overworking himself? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Pregnancy with that condition is extremely high-risk. She could die on the delivery table. When you were enjoying yourself without a condom, did it ever occur to you that she might die on an operating table?” “I chose to!” A figure rushed out from a corner of the room. The girl, her belly prominent, her chin held high. “You couldn’t have a child all these years. This is James’s only child. Since you know I’m risking my life, you should sign the papers and give me some peace of mind. It would be better for me and the baby. Just sign it!” I looked at her calmly. “Aria Vance.” That was her name. Her expression shifted. “You investigated me?” I ignored her question. “When you were a little girl, you said you wanted to be a scientist. Did you ever achieve that dream?” She was stunned into silence. I smiled faintly. “I remember you.” She was one of the children James and I had sponsored. I remembered a little girl hiding behind the orphanage director, her eyes shining as I gave her a set of encyclopedias, whispering shyly, “Thank you, sister Summer. I’m going to be a scientist when I grow up.” It was also her who had once innocently taken our hands and said, “I wish sister Summer and brother James will be together forever.” The clear, bright eyes from my memory were now clouded with raw desire. “Scientist…” Aria scoffed. “All I want now is to be with James. You promised you would always support me. Well, giving me James is the best support you can offer.” I smiled sweetly. “No.” “If you don’t give my child a legitimate name, I’ll die right here in front of you!” “Be my guest.” My tone was placid. “You have a heart condition anyway. You won’t live long.” As I turned to leave, Aria lunged forward and grabbed my arm. In the struggle, the Harry Winston ring slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. My cashmere coat was pulled from my shoulders, revealing the torn white silk shirt underneath. And then, everyone froze. The marks from Rhys’s kisses last night were laid bare in the morning light.

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