1 The day before our wedding, my fiancé Kevin demanded I buy him a Mercedes. “You’re pregnant and won’t be working,” he said with feigned helplessness. “I need a car to support us.” My mom gave me her funeral savings to help. Three months later, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I begged Kevin for help, only to find his bank account held just three hundred dollars. He accused me of trapping him and forced me to have an abortion. “Plenty of women want to have my child,” he sneered. I worked desperately, but couldn’t save my mom. Leaving the crematorium with her ashes in a simple box, I saw Kevin at a car dealership with another woman. “I thought Avery was different,” he told her, “but she’s just another poor schemer. Pick any car—I lost the bet.” As I turned to leave, he suddenly fell to his knees, begging me to stay. … “I told you from the start, poor people don’t have a genuine bone in their body! I just feel bad for my poor brother, getting his feelings played with like that. She couldn’t even keep up the act for long. Three months and her true colors are already showing. So boring.” The woman next to Kevin preened, rubbing against his shoulder. I couldn’t see his face, only the cold, detached way he swiped his credit card. “A bet’s a bet. I guess I misjudged this one. But whatever. Avery’s pretty, great body. I’ll just think of it as hiring an escort for two years. No real loss.” The woman couldn’t hide her glee. She pulled Kevin into a brand-new car. I knew this dealership all too well. During the months my mom was sick, I had worked here as a part-time mechanic, taking on the dirtiest, most grueling jobs I could find. I had only come back today to pack my things and quit. As the limited-edition Ferrari sped away, a flamboyant streak of red, I slowly walked towards the entrance. The salesman who had just made the sale was still buzzing. “That’s the son of the richest man in the city! Drops millions on a luxury car like it’s nothing. I swear, I don’t even want to work anymore. Just find me a sugar daddy and I can skip ten years of struggle!” I stood there for a long time, clutching the cookie tin that held my mother’s ashes. My manager came out and settled my final wages, sighing as he patted my shoulder. “I added a bonus. My condolences. If you ever want to come back, the door is always open.” Less than two thousand dollars in cash. Not even enough to cover half a day of my mom’s medical bills. Now, it was all I had to my name. I stumbled home in a daze, only to find my landlord waiting for me at the door. “Avery, you’re two months behind on rent. The security deposit isn’t going to cover it for much longer.” I forced a smile, my hand clenching and unclenching around the cash in my pocket. “Sir, I’ve had an emergency. I can’t pay. I’ll move out as soon as I can.” His eyes held a hint of amusement. “Bought a new place? I saw your husband come home in a fancy car the other day. You two are full of surprises.” I lowered my head, a bitter smile on my lips, unsure how to explain. Just then, Kevin stepped out of the elevator. He saw me and let out an impatient sigh, tossing his bag at me without a care. The landlord addressed him directly. “You know, if you break the lease, you don’t get the deposit back. And you still owe for these two months. You don’t look like you’re short on cash. Don’t make things difficult for me.” At his words, Kevin’s gaze turned icy as he looked at me. “You haven’t paid the rent? Is that why you’re waiting for me? Avery, do you have to be so damn pathetic? Your scheming is so obvious it’s practically hitting me in the face. Is a little bit of money really worth all this?” The word escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Yes.” The fifty thousand dollars my mom had saved her entire life, a sum that meant nothing to him, had cost my mother her life. He sneered, pulling a thick wad of cash from his bag and slapping it against my face. “Here. How much do you want? I’ll give it to you!” Red bills scattered across the floor. A few days ago, I would have scrambled to pick them up, dignity be damned. But now, they were useless to me. I counted out the amount for two months’ rent, handed it to the landlord, and let myself into the apartment. Kevin and I had lived in this place for two years. It was filled with the traces of our life together. My eyes fell on a photo on the wall. The two of us, looking a little shy, leaning against each other, our smiles bright and genuine. It was the first picture we ever took together. We had just graduated. We met in the breakroom of the company where we were both interning. He told me he was an intern from another department. I remember the way his eyes curved when he smiled, how they sparkled as he said he didn’t know anything and asked me to show him the ropes. I couldn’t forget that innocent, boyish charm. He had pursued me, and I couldn’t help but fall for him. I had wanted so badly to build a future with him. I worked my ass off, fighting to get a permanent position, trying to make a place for us in this city. For two years, we supported each other, comforted each other, slowly building our story in this apartment. Now, it was all gone. My dreams for the future were just part of some rich kid’s role-playing game. A wave of absurdity washed over me. Kevin, oblivious to my turmoil, dropped onto the sofa. “Satisfied, Avery? You finally got your money. You must be thrilled.” “This money-grubbing version of you is disgusting. How did you become like this? You used to have so much pride.” “Just think about it. How many times have you asked me for money these past few months? It was just one Mercedes, and it exposed your true nature. Were all those things you said about working hard, about our future, just empty words?” I looked up at him. He was different now. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair impeccably styled. It seemed he was done with the act. The disappointment and exasperation in his eyes were like tiny needles pricking my skin. I didn’t answer his accusations. I just said, my voice flat, “Let’s get a divorce, Kevin.” A strange silence stretched between us before he burst out laughing. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? To get me to pay back that fifty thousand, you even made up a story about your mom having cancer. You know how much I hate being lied to! Two years together… I was so wrong about you. If we’re getting a divorce, I’m the one who gets to initiate it.” His voice was laced with anger. He pulled a piece of paper from his bag and signed it with a flourish. “Get over here and sign. Let’s get this over with. I don’t have time to waste on you.” So, he’d been prepared for this all along. I carefully placed the cookie tin of ashes and my mother’s framed, face-down photo on a shelf, then walked towards him. I picked up the pen and signed my name without a moment’s hesitation. In my peripheral vision, I could see him looking me up and down. A wave of disgust and weariness washed over me. After I signed, he snorted and threw a bank card on the floor. “Your money is all in there. I didn’t touch a cent. Consider it my parting gift for two years of my life. I was wrong about you.” I turned and gave him one last, long look. I remembered a few days ago, when my mom was on her deathbed. She had whispered that she wanted to see Kevin, that she wanted to know we were okay. By then, he had lost all patience with me because of my constant begging for money. But for my mom, I swallowed my pride and called him. I called all night before he finally picked up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess, you need more money? What’s the excuse this time?” I choked back my anger, my voice a small plea. “My mom… she’s dying. Could you… could you just come see her? Just so she knows we’re okay. That’s all.” A loud, mocking laugh erupted from the other end of the line. “Wow, you’ve really upped your game. You think that’ll make me feel sorry for you? Make me believe you and send you money?” “I’m not a fan of this particular drama. You should rehearse it some more. Come up with something more heart-wrenching next time. Maybe then I’ll be soft-hearted enough to fall for it.” He hung up. When I tried to call back, I was blocked. He never came. Not even after she passed. I’ll never forget the last words my mother said to me. “When you have the baby, I won’t be there to help you. The first month after childbirth is so important for a woman. I wanted to tell him to take good care of you.” “When two people build a life together, they have to understand each other. He’s a good boy. You two need to make it work.” Even at the very end, she wanted us to be happy together. But what my mom didn’t know was that the day after I begged Kevin for money, he dragged me to a clinic for a forced abortion. He said he wouldn’t be threatened by a child, that he would crush any ideas I had of trapping him. Right after the procedure, with no time to rest, I was hounded by hospital bills and forced to work day and night. And what was he doing then? Was he out partying with other women? Was he complaining to his friends about how I had tried to manipulate him? I couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry anymore. All I felt was a deep, hollow sadness. I picked up the card. It held my mom’s life savings. It was her money, and I was taking it back. As I bent down, Kevin scoffed, as if my actions were beneath contempt. I ignored him, put the card away, and started to pack. Fifty thousand dollars. It was enough to buy my mom a decent urn and a proper burial plot. At the thought, a sharp pain pierced my heart. I’m not a crier. I didn’t cry while taking care of my mom. I didn’t cry when she died. I just kept telling myself that if I tried a little harder, maybe things would turn around. But the grief was just delayed, hitting me now with the full, crushing weight of reality. My mom was gone. Tears streamed down my face, my hands trembling as I packed. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Kevin went to open it. I looked over. The woman was familiar. It was the girl from the dealership. She smiled at Kevin. “Brother, I was worried she might do something crazy, so I came to protect you. Poor people can get really scary when they’re desperate. Did you get the papers signed? I’m here to take you home.” Kevin’s expression softened instantly. “You’re always so thoughtful.” The woman smiled demurely, then her gaze shifted to me. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Kevin. I thought you might be different from the other low-class people, but it turns out you’re just a bad actress and a liar. Such a ‘devoted daughter.’ Now that you have your money back, you can drop the act. Go on, bring your mom back to life. Wouldn’t want all those ominous words to come true, would we?” Her mocking tone, her dismissive eyes… the rage simmering inside me finally boiled over. She could say whatever she wanted about me. But not about my mom. On pure instinct, I lunged forward and punched her square in the face. As Kevin roared my name, she crumpled to the ground. “Avery, are you insane? Did I hit a nerve? Do you have any idea who you just touched?” Did it matter who she was? I had nothing left to lose. I ignored his threat, dragged the woman to her feet, and slapped her hard across the face. But before I could release any more of my fury, several large men in black suits burst through the door and pinned me to the floor. The woman scrambled up, crying, and ran into Kevin’s arms. “Brother, I’m okay! I provoked her on purpose! I recorded the whole thing on a micro-camera. Now I can sue her!” I was forced to my knees, unable to move, my teeth gritted in silent rage. She pulled a tiny camera from her collar and gave me a sinister smile. “I’ve got it all on tape now. Brother, you have to make her pay for hitting me!” Kevin looked at me, his face grim. He took off his shoe and slapped it against my cheek, then swung his hand hard. The pain was sharp and immediate. Tears sprang to my eyes. A flicker of pity crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by disappointment. “I never thought we’d end up like this. You were so close, Avery. You were so close to passing my test. But you had to go and show your true colors at the last minute.” “We had two years together. I really did love you. This slap is for Sarah. Let’s just go our separate ways. You and I were never meant to be.” The woman, Sarah, still seemed unsatisfied. “Kevin, you’re just too soft. That’s why this gold-digger was able to fool you for so long. Look at her, she’s not even sorry. I bet if she knew who you really were, she’d be on her knees begging you to take her back.” Kevin looked down at me, his eyes filled with a pity that felt like a slap in the face. In the two years we were together, he had never once given me a gift. In fact, I was the one who was constantly trying to satisfy his demands. Perhaps that was another part of his “test.” But when it came down to it, I didn’t owe him a thing. My voice was cold and detached. “Does it amuse you to play with people’s hearts? In this relationship, I have never wronged you. I may not be good enough for a rich heir like you, but you have no right to insult me.” “From the very beginning, you were the only one who was ever in the wrong.” The words were barely out of my mouth when another angry slap came down. “I was in the wrong? I wasted two years of my life on you! Do you really think those cheap gifts you gave me can make up for two years of my youth? You know I’m a rich heir. Do you have any idea how valuable my time is? A person like you could never understand.” Kevin’s face was flushed with anger. Sarah, the woman beside him, laughed as if enjoying the show. “See, Kevin? Didn’t I tell you? People like her never learn. You try to be nice, and she takes advantage of it.” “She needs to be taught a lesson. Once she’s scared enough, once she knows she’s wrong, then she’ll apologize.” Sarah leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “Devoted daughter, your apology isn’t enough. Now I want you to drag your liar of a mother out here and have her apologize to my Kevin. Don’t make me go get her myself. Things could get ugly, and an apology won’t be enough to fix it then.” Kevin smiled coldly. “That’s right. Since you won’t accept my kindness, I don’t have to be kind to you.” “When you do something wrong, you have to admit it. Even if it’s your mother, even if she’s an elder, there are no exceptions! And to think I was actually sincere with her. I can’t believe she was in on your scheme. Like mother, like daughter.” “I bet it was your mother who taught you to use a pregnancy to control me, to make me devoted to you. You thought I’d be scared of the baby in your belly, that I’d have no choice but to give you whatever you wanted.” As he said this, his eyes turned red. “And you still dare to say you never wronged me?” A storm of grief and rage erupted within me. I couldn’t control it anymore. With all my strength, I broke free from the bodyguards’ grasp and lunged for Sarah, grabbing her by the collar. They could hit me, they could insult me. I had been a fool to trust them. But my mom had done nothing wrong. I would not let anyone tarnish her memory. I swung my fists blindly, completely out of control. The bodyguards reacted quickly, shoving me hard to the ground. The force of the push sent me crashing into the shelf. The cookie tin and the framed photo toppled over. The photo hit the floor with a sickening crack, the glass shattering. The lid of the tin flew off, and my mother’s ashes spilled across the floor. Everyone froze. Especially Kevin. He stared at the mess on the floor, muttering to himself. “This… this is impossible… Sarah investigated. Your mom wasn’t really sick. How can there be ashes and a memorial photo?” He looked at me, his whole body trembling. “How… how could this happen?”

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My best friend, a food vlogger, was livestreaming when she turned on the family at the next table, using my name. “Shut up, especially that kid. Some people shouldn’t be parents.” She boasted, “I’m Mia, with 20 million followers. I earn more in a stream than you’ll ever see!” In my past life, my friend Ava borrowed my account to try vlogging. When a nearby family was talking, she used my identity to curse them, then threw a pot of boiling soup at their little girl, causing severe burns. At the hospital, Ava tossed them money, sneering, “The kid was plain anyway—think of it as free plastic surgery.” Driven to revenge, the family found me at my company. “That’s Mia! She ruined our daughter!” They poured boiling soup on me, then stabbed me to death. As I died, I learned the truth: Ava didn’t just take my account—she married my husband, Rick. It was all their plan. When I opened my eyes, I was back—back to the day Ava destroyed that girl’s life. 1 As I was dying, I could just make out Ava’s whisper, a venomous secret meant only for me. “Mia, my dearest friend, don’t you blame me. You’re the one who had to marry Rick. I wanted him, too. And now… he’s all mine.” I died in a storm of agony. The hatred was a physical thing, a fire in my soul. I had treated her like a sister, and she had orchestrated my public, brutal murder. Perhaps my rage was so strong it bent reality. Heaven, or whatever’s out there, gave me another chance. I was reborn, back in my apartment on the day the family came for their revenge. The familiar room swam into focus, and a thrilling, electric pulse of a second chance shot through me. It was 2:00 PM. In my previous life, I had two hours left to live. Right on schedule, my phone rang. It was Ava. “Hey, sweetie,” she chirped. “Are you back in town?” “Just got home,” I said, forcing the rage down, smoothing my voice into a calm river. She couldn’t suspect a thing. “Perfect! You have to get to the office right away. Rick is being all mysterious, planning some kind of surprise for you, and he won’t tell me what it is! Oh, and wear that pink dress I picked out for you! You know it’s his favorite.” “Okay,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. “I’ll be there soon.” “Hurry!” I hung up and stared at the pink dress laid out on my sofa. The exact dress Ava wore when she assaulted that family at the restaurant. That’s why they didn’t listen to my pleas. They saw the dress and saw a monster. Not this time. This time, I wouldn’t be so stupid. If she wanted my life, if she wanted to climb to the top over my dead body, she was about to find out if she had what it takes. 2 In my past life, Ava saw the success I was having as a content creator—the new apartment, the company I started—and she wanted a piece of it. Wanting to help, I offered to teach her how to start her own channel, how to build an audience. She whined that it was too much work and asked if she could just borrow one of my smaller, backup accounts. Ava was my best friend. Of course, I said yes. I genuinely wanted her to succeed. I never imagined she would use my name, my reputation, to act so monstrously. All because the family at the next table was talking, she shot up from her seat. “Would you peasants shut your mouths? Especially you, kid. Say one more word, I dare you. Guess you were just raised by wolves.” The father, stunned, fired back. “Who do you think you are? This is a public place. People are allowed to talk.” Ava shoved her phone in his face, my account glowing on the screen. “Who am I? Take a good look. I’m Mia. Twenty million followers. I make more from one livestream than you’ll make in your entire miserable life. Can you afford to compensate me for my losses?” She was wearing heavy cosplay makeup, making it impossible for anyone to tell us apart. The argument escalated in seconds. Then, Ava grabbed the bubbling hot pot and threw it. The scalding broth hit the little girl square on. She suffered second-degree burns. Her medical bills were astronomical, and the family was too busy trying to save her to press charges immediately. They had to start a GoFundMe. When Ava found out, she hunted them down at the hospital. She had exchanged thousands of dollars for coins and threw handfuls of them at the grieving parents. “Here’s a few grand for the medical bills. The kid was ugly anyway. Maybe this is a good chance for some plastic surgery. It’s not like me. Being beautiful makes everything so much easier.” After that performance, she just had to wait for me to return from my business trip. She told me to put on the pink dress, lied about a surprise from Rick at the office, and sent me on my way. The moment I stepped into my company, full of excitement, the family ambushed me. They ignored my frantic denials, threw boiling broth on me, and stabbed me over and over. Before I died, my reputation was in ruins. I lost millions of followers overnight. The comments all said the same thing: I deserved it. A monster like me had it coming. My body lay in the morgue for days, unclaimed. I was an orphan. The person who set me up was my closest friend. My own husband, Rick, only claimed my body because he was legally obligated to. Since fate has handed me a chance for revenge, I’m going to take it. I’d been at a brand partner’s headquarters for the past few days negotiating a deal. So, right there in my living room, I fired up a livestream and patched in the brand representative. Thousands of viewers flooded in. I had already made sure to block Ava from my viewers, then I spent the next hour talking animatedly about my business trip, showing off samples and discussing the new collaboration. I was establishing my alibi, making it crystal clear to my real fans that I hadn’t been anywhere near Riverbend for days. Then, slowly and deliberately, I called a car to take me to the office. 3 After my impromptu livestream, I arrived at the office building about fifteen minutes later than I did in my past life. I didn’t go up. Instead, I stayed in the lobby, keeping my stream running while I pulled up the office security feed on my phone. Right on cue, the girl’s family stormed in, flanked by several large, intimidating relatives. “Where’s Mia?” the father roared. “Get her out here now!” Ava emerged, feigning curiosity. She had deliberately worn no makeup today. The girl’s father grabbed her instantly. “Honey, look! Is this her?” Ava shrieked, tearing her arm away. “No, no! You’ve got the wrong person! I’m her friend!” she cried, playing the part of a terrified bystander. “What’s this all about? She’ll be back any minute. I’m sure we can talk this out!” By now, employees were creeping out of their offices, drawn by the commotion. The father’s voice was thick with rage. “That bitch! We were just having dinner, talking, and she threw a boiling hot pot on my daughter! Second-degree burns all over her body!” The mother collapsed to the floor, her body shaking with sobs. “And that’s not all! She followed us to the hospital to humiliate us! Just because we’re not rich and famous, does that mean she can treat us like dirt?” Whispers erupted through the office. “Oh my god, I can’t believe Mia would do something like that. She always seems so nice.” “You never know. These influencers are all two-faced, aren’t they?” I had anticipated this. I’d also arranged for the brand manager to meet me here to “finalize our contract.” The moment he arrived, we’d go up together. On the security feed, Ava was the picture of compassion, helping the weeping mother to her feet. “This is horrible. How is your little girl? Do you need money? We can help. Mia has gone too far this time. I promise, when she gets here, I’ll make her apologize.” My phone started ringing. It was Ava. After letting it ring a dozen times, I finally answered. “Mia, honey, you need to get here now! Something terrible has happened at the office!” “What? What’s wrong?” I injected panic into my voice. “I’m just downstairs! I’m on my way up!” I hung up abruptly. Just then, the brand manager, Mr. Evans, arrived. We headed up together. The second I stepped out of the elevator, Ava rushed me. “Mia! What have you done? This is unforgivable! I just heard you scalded a little girl at a restaurant a few days ago?” The girl’s father heard my name and lunged, his face a mask of fury. “There you are! I’ve finally got you, you bitch! Today, we’ll see who deserves to die!” He pulled out a knife. I dodged back as Mr. Evans, the brand manager, tackled him. “Sir! Calm down! Please!” Turns out, hiring an ex-military guy for brand management was a smart move. I put on my most innocent, confused face. “A few days ago? What little girl? I’ve been with Mr. Evans at his company’s headquarters on a business trip. I haven’t even been to a restaurant here. Sir, you must have the wrong person!” He spat on the floor. “Don’t play dumb with me now! You were the one in the restaurant shouting about being Mia, the famous streamer with twenty million followers, how crushing us would be like stepping on an ant! The whole staff heard you!” Mr. Evans stepped forward, his voice firm. “That’s impossible. Mia has been with our team at our facility for the last three days. She hasn’t been back in Riverbend. There’s no way she could have been at that restaurant.” 4 My phone was still streaming live. “Sir, if you don’t believe me, just ask my viewers. They’ve been watching my collaboration streams all week. They know my entire itinerary.” The father held up his own phone, displaying a chat history. “The account that sent us these messages is named ‘Mia’! Are you still going to deny it?” I took the phone. It was Ava, using my backup account to message them. The messages made my blood boil. [You peasants. So what if your daughter dies? I’m not apologizing.] [Go ahead, expose me. It won’t work. All I have to do is cry on camera, and my fans will forgive me for anything. Besides, my PR team doesn’t work for free!] [Bring it on. Come find me at my company!] Reading them, my own employees started shouting. “You’re a monster! You know what they say, what goes around, comes around!” “No wonder they came here with a knife! If someone did that to my kid, I’d kill them too!” “Who would want to work for a company like this? You could get caught in the crossfire and end up dead!” I turned to Ava, my eyes wide with feigned confusion. “Ava… isn’t this the account you borrowed from me a few days ago?” Panic flashed across her face. This was not how she had planned this. I wasn’t supposed to be anything but a corpse by now. “I… I didn’t! Mia, I know you’re scared right now, but you can’t just blame this on me!” “What’s going on here?” My husband, Rick, finally emerged from his office. Ava ran to him, clutching his arm pitifully. “Rick, Mia did something terrible, something unforgivable. She threw hot pot broth on a little girl… and now… now she’s trying to say it was me using her account.” Rick sighed, a picture of disappointment. “Honey, how could you? Why don’t you go to your office? I’ll handle this.” I’ll handle this. So certain it was me. So, Rick, you were in on it too. No wonder he was so reluctant to claim my body after I died. Thank God I kept my plan to myself this time. Seeing him and Ava acting so familiar, they must have been sleeping together for a long time. The girl’s father signaled to his relatives, who brought in a steaming pot of broth. “Your husband says it was you. Are you still going to lie?” “Today, you’re going to feel the same pain my daughter felt!” I grabbed the man’s arm, pleading desperately. “Sir, please, it really wasn’t me! I have witnesses, I have proof! Please, just… just try a video call to the account that messaged you! You’ll see who it is! You’ll know it’s not me!” The mother’s voice was ice. “You were wearing this same outfit that day. Don’t even try. You’re just trying to escape responsibility!” The office erupted again. “Wow, Mia is ruthless. Ava is supposed to be her best friend, and she’s throwing her under the bus to save herself.” “I heard she stole Rick from Ava in the first place. She’s just a terrible person.” “And to think, she has twenty million fans completely fooled.” “She was the one who taunted the family, told them to come to the office! Now look at her, trying to find someone else to blame!” Hearing this, the father’s rage reignited. “Throw it!” As the pot tilted towards me, I screamed, “If you get the wrong person, you’ll never get justice for your daughter!” Mr. Evans stepped in again. “Sir, please, just make the call. It will only take a second. Mia has truly been with us the entire time.” The father hesitated, then, half-convinced, he pulled out his phone and hit the video call button. Ava’s face went pale. She tried to object, but it was too late. A phone started ringing. From her pocket.

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1 The day I was finally whole again. Daisy squeezed me tight, her eyes rimmed with red, her body trembling with joy. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. “We can finally have a baby of our own!” Everyone said Daisy was crazy about me, that she’d do anything I asked. And I believed them. Until I saw the videos her first love sent me. Intimate, tangled, undeniable. I stopped her as she was setting up the crib we’d just bought. I walked right up to her, my voice steady, my heart a stone. “Let’s not have the baby.” I felt her entire body go rigid. I twisted the knife. “Daisy,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” The little wooden rattle in Daisy’s hand slipped from her grasp, landing on the plush carpet with a soft, muffled thud. She looked up at me, her face a mask of disbelief. “Harry.” She stepped closer, reaching for my hands. “Are you kidding me?” Her expression was so earnest, as if I were the center of her universe, so much so that I could feel the tremor in her fingers as she clutched mine. “This isn’t a funny joke.” “Harry, stop messing around.” She thought I was throwing a tantrum. A wave of bitter cold washed over me. “I’m not kidding.” My voice was flat. I gently pulled my hands from her grasp, pushing down the acid sting in my throat. “I’m dead serious.” “Daisy.” I held up my phone, open to the chat history, to the photos and videos the man had sent me. I watched the color drain from her face, her expression freezing over, her mouth opening to form an explanation I no longer wanted to hear. I cut her off. “You told him you wanted his baby,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “You told him if it was a boy, you’d name him Caleb. A girl, Ryan.” I was trying, I really was, to keep myself together, to end this with some shred of dignity. Just like we’d promised each other when we started—if it ever ends, let’s make it clean. But then I looked at her face, and I remembered her whispering the same things to me, her lips brushing against my cheek in the afterglow of our own passion. I remembered her holding me, her voice full of breathless hope. “Harry, if we have a baby… let’s have a boy and a girl.” “We’ll call the boy Caleb.” “And the girl, Ryan.” I didn’t understand the significance of the names back then. I’d asked her why, but she’d just smiled and said she liked the sound of them. I didn’t push. They sounded nice enough to me. What a fucking joke. I stared at her, tearing her lies apart without a second thought. “It wasn’t because they sounded nice, was it? It was because his name,” I could feel my whole body start to shake, my jaw clenched so tight my words came out shuddering, “is Ethan Caleb Ryan.” “Your first love. The one you never got over.” “It’s not like that!” Daisy cried, her eyes flashing with panic as she reached for me. But the dam inside me broke. “IF YOU LOVED HIM SO MUCH, WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST TELL ME?” I roared, my voice shredding raw. “I WOULD HAVE LET YOU GO!” “DID YOU THINK I’D CLING TO YOU? DID YOU?” In a blind rage, I snatched a stuffed animal from the crib and hurled it at her. But she didn’t flinch. She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a suffocating grip, holding on so tightly I couldn’t breathe. I was choking, drowning in her betrayal, and in a primal, desperate act, I bit down hard on the soft flesh of her neck. I heard her sharp intake of breath, a pained grunt, but she didn’t let go. “It’s not like that!” she sobbed into my shoulder, her tears soaking my shirt. “Harry!” “It’s not!” “I’m sorry, Harry! I’m so sorry!” “I was wrong! I know I was wrong!” 2 Honestly. I just wanted the divorce. I just wanted us to walk away from this without it getting any uglier. But Daisy called in the cavalry. She summoned both our families, and suddenly our spacious living room was cramped and suffocating, packed with every relative we had. They sat in a semi-circle, my parents and hers, staring at me as if I were a criminal on trial. They were here to pass judgment. I saw Daisy’s aunt looking me up and down, a sneer twisting her lips. “Look at him. Playing the stay-at-home husband has given you quite an ego.” She sniffed. “Daisy works herself to the bone so you can live a life of leisure, and this is the thanks she gets? An attitude?” Daisy’s mother chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Harry, dear, Daisy is not the kind of woman who would cheat. Why else would she have married you? She truly loves you. She wouldn’t have asked us all to come here to talk sense into you if she didn’t.” She reached over and squeezed my own mother’s hand, and my mom immediately turned on me. “Harry Alexander Price! You stop this nonsense right now! You won’t find another woman as good as Daisy if you live to be a hundred! What more could you possibly want?” My father delivered the final verdict. “This is not happening. As long as Daisy doesn’t want a divorce, you won’t get one. If you dare bring this up again,” he jabbed a finger at me, “I’ll break your legs myself.” The two families, united as one, sat in judgment of me, the sinner. I sat in the middle, weathering the storm of their accusations, their anger, their disappointment. When the shouting finally died down, Daisy spoke. “Harry,” she said, her voice soft as she took my hand. “I have never, ever wanted to divorce you.” “I can explain. Just let me explain.” To prove her sincerity, she dialed Ethan’s number right there in front of everyone and put him on speaker. She demanded he vouch for her, for their “innocence.” “You’ve got my husband thinking I’m cheating, and now he wants to leave me!” she cried into the phone. “Tell him the truth, right now!” Ethan’s voice, slick and unconcerned, filled the silent room. “Jesus, I was just messing with him. Can’t he take a joke?” He then addressed me directly. “What’s your problem, man? So I dated your wife for a few years. Everyone has a past. What, you expected her to be a virgin? Are you?” Listening to his casual disdain, after the barrage from our families and Daisy’s pathetic theatrics, something inside me snapped. Before Daisy could stop me, I lunged, snatching the phone from her hand. “If you were so ‘innocent,’ you wouldn’t have added me and sent me that shit!” I yelled, my voice trembling with rage. “Ethan, is it? If you’re so damn clean, what do you call hitting on a married woman? Is it a hobby, getting off on wrecking marriages? Or is your own life so miserable you can’t stand to see anyone else happy—” Ethan’s voice exploded from the speaker. “What the FUCK did you just say to me?” “DAISY! Are you just going to let your husband talk to me like that? Are you just going to stand there and—” CRACK. The sharp, stinging impact of a palm against my cheek silenced him. I raised a hand to my face, staring at Daisy in stunned disbelief. Her eyes were wide with panic. “Harry, I didn’t mean to—” “Hahahaha, Harry!” Ethan’s mocking laughter echoed from the phone. “Got what you deserved, didn’t you?” “I’m telling you, Harry, I can say whatever I want because your wife gives me the power to! Daisy is wrapped around my little finger, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386621”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The moment my best friend, Sophia, learned my secret—that I possessed eternal life and boundless wealth—she conspired with a mystic to murder me. Their plan? To cast my soul into Hell and steal the perfect fate that was mine. On the windswept rooftop of a skyscraper, my pleas were torn apart by the wind. “Don’t kill me, Sophia, please! You can have all the money!” I’m terrified of dying. Truly terrified. Not just of the fall, but of what comes after. My ex—the one from down below—made a promise when I left him. If he ever saw me again, he’d throw me into a cauldron of boiling oil and slice my soul to ribbons. “Sophia, we’ve known each other for ten years! I’ve always been good to you, haven’t I? Please, let me go…” “You can have everything! All the money, I swear!” I was on my knees on the gritty concrete of the rooftop, dignity shattered, ready to smash my forehead against the ground if it would save me. Sophia’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk. The sharp point of her stiletto dug under my chin, forcing my head up. “I don’t just want your money, Elara. I want your endless life, too.” Her voice was a venomous whisper. “We’re best friends, aren’t we? What’s yours is mine. And since you care so much about me, you should just give it all to me.” With that, she shot a look at the dark-robed mystic beside her. He understood instantly. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me toward the ledge. Thirty-three stories high. Down below, directly under me, a ritual circle glowed faintly on the pavement—a trap they’d laid. The second I hit the ground and died, their ritual would be complete. My soul would be theirs. I wouldn’t even get the chance to be reborn. Sophia was making sure I couldn’t come back as a vengeful ghost; she was erasing me completely. The wind howled, a frigid blast against my face as I scrabbled desperately to pull myself back from the edge. Sophia’s greed, ignited by my secret, now burned like a wildfire. She lunged forward, and together with the mystic, she kicked me off the roof. The world became a blur of wind and city lights. Then, a sickening CRACK exploded in my ears as my body shattered against the concrete. When awareness returned, I was no longer flesh and blood. I was a spirit, floating in the dim expanse of the underworld. Two spectral reapers flanked me, thick, thumb-sized soul-chains clamped around my neck. A thick, grey fog clung to everything, but the screams of the damned ahead were terrifyingly clear. I knew this place. It was the entrance to the Gates of Hell. I had my darling ex-husband to thank for the tour. When I’d tried to leave him, he’d dragged me here in a blind rage, trying to scare me into staying. He never actually threw me in, but now, it seemed my time had come. I was about to be annihilated. I thrashed against the chains, my voice a desperate rasp. “This is wrong! I was murdered! I’ve done nothing to deserve this!” My struggle only earned me a sharp sting. One of the reapers, a wiry one with a thin mustache, lashed out with a barbed whip from his belt. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt, searing straight through to my very essence. I collapsed, too stunned to even scream. “Listen up, lady,” Moustache-Reaper sneered. “Doesn’t matter who you were. Now that you’re in our hands, you’re finished.” Still, anything was better than being erased. I had to take a chance. What if my ex still had a shred of feeling for me? A chance at reincarnation was infinitely better than oblivion. The thought gave me a sliver of courage. “I… I know your Lord,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I know Kaelan! I demand to see him!” The two reapers exchanged a glance. Then another whip crack, this one so vicious it nearly split my soul in two, silencing me. Moustache spat near my head. “Who the hell do you think you are, saying the Lord’s name like that? I don’t care how you learned it. You’d better shut your mouth if you don’t want more of this.” Helpless, I was dragged forward like a sack of dead weight. The other reaper, who’d been watching quietly, sounded nervous. “Hey, what if she’s telling the truth? We could be in deep…” Moustache scoffed. “Get a grip. The mystic told us she’s some kind of anomaly, not even listed in the Ledger of Souls. So what if some freak knows the Lord’s name? Don’t be such a coward. No record, no problem. We got paid to do a job, so let’s get it done before something goes wrong.” It all clicked into place. They were in on it with Sophia and her mystic. Corrupt reapers, taking bribes to destroy a soul. The Gates of Hell loomed before us, a towering, monstrous structure that made my spirit tremble with primal fear. As the reapers chanted, the massive gates began to creak open, and my heart sank into an abyss of despair. Suddenly, a voice cut through the fog, drawing closer. “A new arrival? Has she been through Judgement?” It was Silas, the Black Watcher! He knew me! My eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the mist. “Silas…” I gasped. Before I could say more, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was yanked aside. I watched in a panic as Moustache intercepted Silas, my hope slipping away. I struggled, earning another brutal kick to my lower back. Moustache pulled out a pack of cigarettes, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin. “Silas, hey! What brings you down to this dreary gate? Here, try one of these. Fresh from the mortal world. Got a real kick.” Silas brushed some dust from his official robes, his expression annoyed. “Cut the crap. I asked you a question. Has that soul been judged?” Moustache swallowed hard. “Yeah… yeah, of course. We wouldn’t dare skip the proper channels, would we? You and your sister are run ragged up there. You should take a break. Have a smoke.” Silas took the cigarette and lit it, falling silent. The fog was too thick for him to see me clearly. Fearing this was my only chance, I bit down—hard—on the hand covering my mouth. The reaper yelped in pain, his grip loosening. I scrambled towards Silas, but a leg shot out, tripping me. I fell flat, a boot pressing my face into the grimy dirt. The foul sand filled my mouth, choking me, silencing my cries. But the commotion had caught Silas’s attention. He took a few steps closer. “What’s going on over there?” The reaper whose hand I’d bitten pressed down harder, a petty act of revenge, threatening to crush my skull. “Nothing, boss. Just a feisty one. Still fighting, even at Hell’s door. You know how it is. The ones who end up here are never the good ones. Don’t want her filth to dirty your eyes.” Silas stopped. “Fine. Just be thorough. These types are the worst of the worst. We can’t afford any mistakes. Get her inside.” As Silas turned and vanished back into the fog, my heart died with him. After a final, groveling farewell to Silas, Moustache stormed over to me, venting his frustration with a series of vicious kicks. Unsatisfied, he raised his whip and began lashing me relentlessly. Soon, my spiritual form was a tattered mess of wounds, barely recognizable. Finally finished, he knelt and grabbed my chin. “You bitch,” he hissed. “You almost ruined everything. Don’t worry. Once you’re inside, I’ll be taking special care of you.” I was nothing more than a rag doll as they tossed me into the first circle of Hell. This was the Penance of a Thousand Needles. As far as the eye could see, countless platforms held tormented spirits, each impaled with thousands of shimmering needles, like grotesque pincushions. Their souls weren’t destroyed here, only tortured, and their unending screams echoed through the cavernous space. I drew a shuddering breath, using my last ounce of strength to force out the words. “I… really… know… Kaelan. When he finds out… what you did… he’ll destroy you…” It was a bluff, mostly. Kaelan wouldn’t care if I lived or died. He probably never wanted to see me again. Why else would he have granted me eternal life? To keep me wandering the mortal world, never aging, never dying. He was terrified I’d die and show up in his underworld, an unwelcome sight… Once we were inside the gate, the two reapers weren’t afraid of my threats anymore. Moustache tapped my cheek condescendingly, his smile pure malice. “Quite the imagination you’ve got. Been watching too many mortal dramas? You really think you’re worthy of our Lord’s attention?” My head lolled to the side. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I coughed up a cloud of nether energy. I felt my form grow even more transparent. They strapped me to one of the platforms. Moustache returned with a wicked grin, holding the instruments of torture: Soulthorns, each as long as my forearm. “You’d better hold on tight,” he purred. “There are seventeen more circles of Hell waiting for you. We’re going to have so much fun.” He lifted a Soulthorn and aimed it at my thigh. “Down here, even the most stubborn souls learn to break.” The tip plunged half an inch into my spirit-flesh. The agony was blinding, and an uncontrollable tremor seized my entire body. “Aaaargh—!” Just then, a figure hurried toward us. “Stop!” The needle was pulled out. Gasping for breath, I forced my eyes open to see who had come. It was the warden of this circle, a man I remembered. His name was Marcus. Back when Kaelan was trying to scare me, he’d been the one trying to calm him down. “My Lord,” he had said, “the young mistress is merely naive. There’s no need for such anger. You wouldn’t want to harm her.” Hope surged through me. I prayed that after all these years, he would still remember me. “Warden Marcus… it’s me… help me…” The journey here had left me utterly drained, my voice a broken, sandy whisper. But I knew he heard me. He stared, his eyes widening in recognition, then in absolute terror. He remembered. Before I could feel a moment of relief, he quickly looked away, his face a mask of indifference. “A message just came from above,” he announced coolly. “They want to witness this one’s final destruction personally. They’re on their way. You will wait.” I was stunned. Marcus… he was in on it, too? My last hope extinguished, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Kaelan, oh Kaelan. Is this the underworld you rule? A place where your own underlings can deceive you, break every rule, and act with total impunity? I never imagined Sophia would come here herself. I didn’t know whether to call her bold or cowardly. Bold, for daring to step into the realm of the dead. Cowardly, because she was so afraid of me—of the loose end I represented—that she had to see me utterly destroyed before she could enjoy my money and my lifespan in peace. Soon enough, Sophia and the mystic appeared. To enter this realm, they had temporarily left their physical bodies behind, arriving as spirits. Sophia was terrified at first, clinging to the mystic like a shadow. But when she saw how chummy he was with the local reapers, her confidence returned. After all, she was the one with the money. She took a Soulthorn from one of the reapers and approached me, her eyes gleaming with manic excitement. “Elara, I have to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I would never have known the joy of being truly rich. They say money makes the world go ’round, and it’s true. With enough of it, I can even take a tour of Hell.” “You’ve lived long enough,” she cooed. “I’ll take over from here. You can rest in pieces. That way, I can finally have some peace of mind, too.” I looked at her, my gaze empty. “Was I not good to you?” I rasped. The question felt pointless as soon as I asked it. If she had a conscience, she never would have plotted this. Sophia burst out laughing. “Hahahaha… You think you were good to me? I was your glorified maid, wearing your hand-me-downs, always standing in your shadow. Do you really call that being good to me?” I didn’t argue. You can’t reason with a viper you’ve warmed at your hearth. The first time I met her, it was snowing, and she was shivering in a threadbare coat. She’d come from a poor village with nothing, unable to find work. I took her in. I didn’t need a maid; I was used to my solitude. But I felt sorry for her, so I gave her a job. I always treated her like a friend. I gave her anything she asked for, and I paid her far more than any other maid would make. But gradually, she stopped seeing herself as an employee. She began to demand more and more. I suppose I was too lenient. She started to think she was my equal… or that she could replace me. My mistake was trusting her with my secret. My silence only fueled her rage. “Nothing to say? So you admit it, don’t you? You never saw me as a friend. Now, die!” She aimed the needle at my heart. She really, really wanted me gone. The reapers nearby shifted uncomfortably, but none of them moved to stop her. The nether energy bled from my wounds, my form becoming dangerously translucent. My thoughts grew hazy. Sophia was still stabbing me, a frenzied attack, carving up my body, paying special attention to my face until it was a ruined mask. Through the fog of pain, I thought I saw him. Kaelan. Walking towards me. He was still as breathtakingly handsome as ever, more beautiful than any man I’d seen in my hundred years of life. His robes, dark as a starless night and embroidered with cloud patterns, spoke of absolute power. His ink-black hair framed a face of sharp, severe angles and deep, commanding eyes that could captivate a soul at a single glance. Was it a hallucination? It had to be… He never wanted to see me again. But why… why were all the reapers dropping to their knees? “My Lord! What brings you to this place in person?” Marcus was panicking, his body shaking like a leaf as he prostrated himself on the ground. He knew he was doomed. Taking bribes from mortals was a capital offense. Allowing them into the underworld? Unforgivable. And now he’d been caught red-handed. The mystic’s face went pale. He yanked the still-frenzied Sophia away from me, and they both fell to their knees. Kaelan’s gaze swept over them, each glance a physical blow. Behind him, his Chamberlain spoke, his voice high and sharp. “Insolence! If the Lord hadn’t come today, who knows what atrocities you traitors would have committed in his name!” The two reapers who had brought me here pressed their faces to the floor, not daring to breathe. I tried to speak, but my mind was a chaotic storm, and the sharp agony in my soul stole my voice. Would he recognize me? And if he did… what then? Would he save me from this nightmare? Or would he make good on his old promise—to throw me into boiling oil and slice me to ribbons? Either way, it didn’t matter. My soul was already fading… After a long, heavy silence, Kaelan finally spoke, his voice like cracking ice. “Marcus. I entrusted this first circle of Hell to your command. Is this how you perform your duties?” At the mention of his name, Marcus began banging his head on the ground, faster and harder than I had when I begged Sophia for my life. “I was wrong, my Lord, I was wrong! It was those two reapers who brought the mortals here! I knew nothing of it! I was just about to cast them out when you arrived!” The reapers, seeing Marcus throw them under the bus, were furious. Moustache shot back, “This is your domain! Mortals on your turf is your failure! How dare you try to pin this on us?” “You’re the ones who found a way to take money from the living!” Marcus snarled. “I was dragged into this!” I finally understood. Kaelan wasn’t here for me. He was here because he’d discovered the corruption in his ranks. My presence was just a coincidence. I felt like a transparent bystander, watching them tear each other apart while the mystic and Sophia trembled at the center of the storm. Kaelan let out a cold snort. “Enough. The two mortals will not be returning. Detain them for judgment. As for the rest of you… you are sentenced to the Path of Beasts. You will be reborn as animals for all eternity, never again to be human.” The verdict struck Marcus like lightning. He collapsed from his kneeling position, his face ashen and numb. The two reapers had the same look of utter devastation. The reality of her situation finally hit Sophia. She was never going back to the mortal world. “No!” she shrieked. “My life isn’t over! Even your underworld has rules, doesn’t it?!” She couldn’t bear to lose the long life and vast fortune she had stolen from me. The mystic, terrified of being associated with her, tried to pull her down. She shoved him away and scrambled to her feet. “I’m leaving! Send me back right now!” The mystic wouldn’t dare. He just closed his eyes and played dead. Sophia grabbed his robes, shaking him violently. “What are you waiting for?! I paid you a million dollars! Do your job! I said I want to go back now!” She didn’t know one of Kaelan’s biggest triggers was loud, incessant noise. The next second, her spiritual form flew through the air like a broken kite. As if guided by fate, she landed squarely on the table of torture instruments, her backside impaled on a cluster of Soulthorns. The agonizing pain she had inflicted on me was now her own. Her face contorted in a mask of horror, and a piercing shriek tore from her throat. The Chamberlain waved a hand. Other reapers swarmed forward, gagging her and pinning her to the ground. With them dealt with, Kaelan finally turned his gaze to me. I could feel it—a cold, piercing stare. The Chamberlain stepped forward. “Who are you? State your name.” Marcus, already facing one death sentence, wasn’t about to risk another. He was terrified Kaelan would find out I’d been brought here without judgment, terrified he’d recognize me. He quickly interjected, “She’s just a newly deceased soul, my Lord. None who end up here are innocent… Please, don’t dirty your eyes with such filth.” Kaelan’s brow furrowed in annoyance. The Chamberlain snapped, “He wasn’t talking to you. Silence!” I opened my mouth, but only a dry, hissing sound came out. When no answer came, the Chamberlain approached to inspect my wounds. He shook his head grimly. “My Lord, this woman’s soul is on the verge of dissipating.” Kaelan, for all his fury, was a just ruler. “Check her identity,” he commanded. “If she does not belong here, have her healed. See if she can be returned to her body or sent for reincarnation.” The Chamberlain immediately sent for the Ledger of Souls. While we waited, Sophia continued to struggle against her restraints, her mind still fixated on the life of luxury she was losing. A moment later, a reaper returned with the great tome. The Chamberlain leaned close to me. “What is your name?” I summoned every last shred of my being and whispered two words, my voice as faint as the buzz of a mosquito. “Elara…” This Chamberlain was new; I’d never seen him before. He heard me and began to work his magic on the Ledger. As the seconds ticked by, a look of confusion spread across his face. “This… this can’t be right…” Kaelan’s patience, always thin, was wearing out. A dangerous aura began to emanate from him. “What is it?!” he demanded. The Chamberlain trembled. “My Lord… this person… she is not in the Ledger of Souls!” Of course not. That had been Kaelan’s doing. He had made me immortal, a wanderer in the mortal realm. Me on Earth, him in the Underworld. That way, we would never meet again. He clearly hadn’t made the connection. He must have assumed it was more treachery from his subordinates. He snatched the Ledger, his voice a low growl of fury. “What is her name?” “Elara,” the Chamberlain replied. The moment he heard my name, Kaelan froze. His entire demeanor shifted. His eyes, cold as glaciers, locked onto me, a flicker of disbelief in their depths.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386620”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I ran into Alex, a scholarship student from my year, working a part-time shift at the campus mail center while I was picking up a package. We started chatting, and when he found out my Black Friday haul cost over twenty thousand dollars, he just snapped. “I’ve never even seen that much money in my entire life! And you just… spend it?” “Did your mother send you here to get an education or to blow her fortune?” He snatched the package out of my hand and physically blocked the exit. “You need to return all of it! Now! Kids like you have no idea how hard adults work for their money! If you’re this wasteful now, what man is ever going to be able to afford you?” His bizarre, accusatory tone was so absurd I had to laugh. “I’m spending my mom’s money. What’s that got to do with you?” “What’s it got to do with me?” he shot back, his face a mask of self-righteousness. “I’m dating your mother. And every cent you spend… is our future marital property!” I froze. But… isn’t my mom a lesbian? When did she start liking men? 1 Alex was still ranting, his voice rising with indignation. “I know you’re young, you don’t understand real hardship! But I’m not like you. I had to grow up fast, and I know better than anyone how tough your mom has it!” He took a step closer, spittle flying from his lips. “Twenty. Thousand. Dollars! Gone with a click of a button. Do you have any idea how many fake smiles, how many drinks, how many sleepless nights she endures to make that kind of money? The world doesn’t see the struggles of a single woman building an empire, but you’re her daughter! Can’t you have a little empathy?” Seeing his pained, heartbroken expression, I almost burst out laughing again. Never mind that the thirty thousand dollars I get every month is an allowance my mom practically forces on me. For my eighteenth birthday two years ago, I casually mentioned wanting a car that cost nearly two hundred thousand dollars, and she didn’t even blink before saying yes. My mom’s favorite line is, “Honey, I make money so fast I was worried I’d have no one to help me spend it. That’s why I had you, my little helper.” How we spend our money is our business. When did it become a stranger’s place to lecture me? “Pick it up.” I stared at the package Alex had thrown on the floor, my brow furrowed. “Willful destruction of property is a crime. If you touch my things again, I’m calling the police.” “Hah!” He wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. In fact, he doubled down. “You little brat. I try to talk some sense into you, and it goes in one ear and out the other, doesn’t it?” He lunged forward and grabbed my arm, his voice laced with menace. “I’m warning you! Your mom and I are getting married soon! Legally, I’ll be your stepfather! And as your parent, I am ordering you to return every last piece of this junk! Right now! Or else…” I scoffed, knocking his pointing finger away with my package. “You’re so eager to be my dad. Do you even know my mother’s full name?” Alex crossed his arms, oozing confidence. “Eleanor Vance. Chairman of the Vance Group. Made her fortune in fashion. Who doesn’t know that? And I also know your real father died young, and she raised you all by herself, through thick and thin! Eleanor told me all of this herself! What, you don’t believe me?” Believe him? Yeah, right. Everything he just said was the simplified, bullshit version of my life I’d scribbled on my school admission forms to save time. He must have seen it when he was helping our advisor organize student files. I’d invented the “dead father” story to avoid the endless questions that came with being an IVF baby. I never thought someone would use it against me. It was clear Alex’s delusion didn’t start today. Class was about to start, and I had no more patience for this. I bent down, picked up my package, and turned to leave. Behind me, I heard him on the phone. “Yes! It’s me! I want you to freeze all the bank accounts under Mia Vance’s name! That’s right, all of them! Let’s see if we can’t teach her a lesson today!” I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain. He’s watched one too many cheesy TikTok dramas and thinks he’s a CEO. The guy was losing his mind. But just as my foot was about to cross the mail center’s threshold, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket. A sense of dread washed over me. I pulled it out. Glowing on the screen was an urgent notification from my bank— 2 I tried to school my features, to hide the flicker of shock that shot through me as I read the “ACCOUNT FROZEN” notification, but Alex saw it. “So? You see what I’m capable of now?” he gloated. “I told you, Eleanor and I are very close! I don’t care if you’re her daughter. If you disrespect me, she won’t let it slide. How about this—” He paused for dramatic effect, then magnanimously waved his phone. “Apologize to me. Right here, in front of everyone. Admit you were wrong to talk back to an elder. Then, return everything you bought on Black Friday and transfer the refunds to my account. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill. A sign of respect.” “Do that, and I’ll have Eleanor unfreeze your accounts. What do you say?” The mail center was packed during the lunch rush, and our little drama had drawn a crowd. “Wow, so that’s what those female execs are into! That guy’s so lucky. Lands a sugar mama before he even graduates. He just skipped decades of the corporate ladder!” “Well, Alex’s poor, but he’s good-looking and knows how to talk. Maybe after all these years alone, that’s what Mia’s mom is into!” “But the girl looks like she has no idea what’s going on.” “That’s the point, isn’t it? Mom’s new boy toy is her daughter’s classmate. Of course she’d keep it a secret!” A guy who seemed to be friends with Alex nudged him, a sly grin on his face. “Nice one, man! Freezing your stepdaughter’s accounts just like that? You’ve got the power in that family! Guess we should start calling you Mr. Vance, huh?” Feeling the hostile, gossiping stares all around me, I let out a cold laugh and pointed at the loudest hecklers. “Slander and defamation are crimes. Do you need me to call the Vance Group’s legal team to come give you a little lesson on the law?” The chatter died instantly. The faces of the guys who’d been speaking went pale. Alex sighed dramatically. “Mia, I didn’t want to make a scene. But—” His tone shifted, becoming a lecture. “I can’t just stand by and watch you fall into the trap of consumerism! We’re about to be a family. You need to start thinking about—” WHAM! Before he could finish, the cardboard box in my hand connected squarely with his face. “Family? Get over yourself! My mother could be blind and she still wouldn’t look twice at you!” “Hey, what’s your problem? That’s too far!” “Even if you don’t like your stepfather, you can’t deny your mom the right to be happy!” My actions had reignited the crowd that had just been silenced. Just then, the warning bell for class rang. I pulled out my phone. “I didn’t want to have to prove anything, but I don’t have time for this! Everyone here who backed him up today, I’ll be holding every single one of you accountable.” Ignoring their sudden looks of alarm, I dialed my mom, who was on a business trip in Europe. Ring… ring… No answer. I hung up and dialed again. Still no answer. I frowned. The onlookers, who had been about to scatter, now hesitated. I tried a third time, but all I got was the cold, robotic voicemail prompt. Alex smirked, slowly pulling out his own phone. “Looks like Eleanor’s busy. No problem. I’ll give her a try. She told me she has a special alert for my number. She always picks up for me, no matter what.” With all eyes on him, he made the call. It connected instantly. He put it on speaker, and a woman’s slightly rushed voice came through the receiver. “Hey, Alex, what’s up? I’m in a meeting, make it quick.” 3 Even after my lecture ended, I was still replaying that phone call in my head. The woman’s voice and tone were eerily similar to my mom’s. Anyone who wasn’t intimately familiar with her habits would have been fooled into thinking it was Eleanor Vance, CEO of the Vance Group. But I knew better. When my mom is overseas, she answers every call in English. It’s an instinct ingrained from years of international business. That woman, however, had spoken English with a stilted, unnatural cadence, and she lacked the sharp, decisive energy my mom always has. So who was this woman Alex claimed he was going to marry? And was the sudden freeze on my accounts really connected to him? Back in my dorm, I forced myself to calm down and tried my mom’s number again. Still nothing. I ended up leaving her a long, rambling voicemail, explaining everything that had happened at the mail center and begging her to call me back as soon as possible. Agitated, I opened my laptop to work on my study abroad application, hoping to distract myself. But just as I logged into the university’s system, my phone rang. My heart leaped, but it wasn’t my mom. It was a campus number I recognized—Professor Davis, the advisor for my exchange program. “Mia,” she said, her voice tinged with confusion. “I just received a call. Someone claiming to be your father submitted a request to withdraw your application. I just wanted to check in with you, has something come up at home?” When I got to her office, I found a familiar, unwelcome figure already there. “Alex! What is wrong with you?” He just shrugged, completely unbothered, and addressed Professor Davis with a somber, righteous tone. “I’m currently dating Mia’s mother. That makes me her stepfather. I have the right to withdraw her application for the exchange program. My reason is—” He pulled out his phone and played a security video from the mail center, showing me hitting him with the box. “I believe my stepdaughter is emotionally unstable and is not currently fit to study abroad.” My vision tunneled. “Professor, don’t listen to him! He has nothing to do with me or my mother! My mom would never agree to this!” “Mia!” Alex turned to me, his face a picture of weary disappointment. “You saw it yourself this afternoon. I’m the only one who can get through to your mother. Why are you being so stubborn?” Professor Davis looked from me to Alex, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Alex, you claim to be Mia’s stepfather and to be representing Ms. Vance’s wishes. Do you have any proof? A marriage certificate, perhaps? Or a signed letter of authorization from Ms. Vance?” Alex’s smile faltered for a split second before he recovered. “Professor, Eleanor and I are about to get married. It’s just a matter of time. As her future husband, I’m concerned about her child’s well-being. Is that so wrong? We’ll provide the official documentation after the wedding.” “Without legal proof, based solely on your word, we cannot accept this request,” Professor Davis said, her tone firming. “Mia’s application process will continue as planned. And please, refrain from interfering in her academic affairs in a parental capacity again.” Alex’s face darkened. He shot me a venomous glare. “You’re just determined to do this the hard way, aren’t you? You’re going to regret this, Mia.”

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The day Peter Monks took his protégée back to their alma mater was the day the System told me to die. It said that Peter, the story’s male lead, was falling out of love with me. The battle-hardened System egged me on. “Why don’t you just kill yourself? It’s the classic groveling ex trope. That’s how all those second-chance romance stories go.” “Peter will be consumed by love for you after you’re gone. His affection score will skyrocket, and your mission will be complete!” When I realized that dying meant, well, actually dying, I stared at the System in disbelief. “But if I’m dead, what good is his love to me?” “How about this,” I countered. “We unlink, and you can find someone else to conquer his heart.” I ignored the System and chose to live. I never expected that would be the thing to make Peter Monks fall madly in love with me all over again. 1. The System went silent. For the first time, its mechanical, electronic voice was tinged with something like raw fury. [HOST, THINK CAREFULLY. WITHOUT MY ASSISTANCE, PETER MONKS’S LOVE SCORE FOR YOU WILL PLUMMET TO NEAR ZERO!] [YOU WILL HAVE NOTHING!] “So what?” I was done arguing. With a single thought, I pulled up the interface in my mind and selected ‘Force Unlink.’ A shrill alarm blared for a split second before cutting off abruptly. I walked to the bathroom and looked at the stunning, radiant face in the mirror, a laugh bubbling up from my chest. Thank God I had been careful when I first signed up, poring over the contract that was thicker than a brick. Upon unlinking, the System couldn’t retract any rewards it had already granted. Better yet, there were no penalties for failing the mission. And over the years, trading on the pitiful dregs of Peter’s affection, I had acquired a flawless appearance, a photographic memory, a ruthless instinct for business, and… a black card with no credit limit. I would have nothing? Please. I already had everything. I pulled out my phone and casually posted an update on my social media feed. 【Officially single. Parted ways with Mr. Peter Monks. Wishing him all the best.】 The accompanying picture was a selfie I’d just taken in the mirror. My smile was brilliant, the light in my eyes outshining the diamond necklace around my neck. I couldn’t even be bothered to pack. I called the most expensive moving company in the city. Pointing at everything that was mine in Peter’s villa, I gave a simple instruction, “Pack it all up. Don’t leave a single thing. And then, throw it all away.” Who cares? I wasn’t lacking for anything. Out with the old, in with the new. I’d grown accustomed to the good life and had no intention of slumming it. So, I turned around and bought a standalone villa in the same exclusive, ultra-wealthy district—this one with a better view and an infinity pool. Behind me, the movers worked in a flurry of activity. I sat serenely on the terrace of my new home, sipping champagne and watching the sunset paint the sky. My phone buzzed. The name “Peter Monks” flashed across the screen. I could already picture his expression when he saw my post—a mixture of shock and simmering rage. He probably thought this was just another one of my games, another desperate attempt to get his attention. Too bad. I didn’t even want to waste a second looking at his name. With a flick of my thumb, I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and moved on. A man? He’d only slow down my spending. 2. When Peter finally found me, I was in the middle of teasing a new male model, dangling a cherry just above his lips. His eyelashes were long, his cheeks smooth and flushed. My playful words had turned the tips of his ears a bright crimson. He looked like an innocent puppy. During my years with Peter, I had to play the part of his preferred “sweet, innocent flower,” living a life as austere as a nun’s. Only now was I discovering how exhilarating it was to finally let loose. “Get out.” Peter’s voice, cold as ice, sliced through the air, heavy with the authority of a man used to being obeyed. The model flinched, scrambling out of the VIP booth like a startled animal. Now, it was just the two of us. Peter loosened his tie, his gaze raking over me, the fury in his eyes barely contained. “Sienna, what the hell is this?” I popped the cherry into my mouth, slowly and deliberately spitting the pit onto a napkin. “We broke up, Mr. Monks.” I looked at him, feigning confusion. “‘Break up.’ Are those two words really so hard to understand? Or has your vocabulary deteriorated to the point where you need to go back to elementary school?” His face darkened to the color of thunderclouds. But he reined in his temper, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down across from me. His tone, when he finally spoke, was almost gentle. “Are you still angry that I went back to the university with Willow?” I almost laughed. See? That was him. Always so certain that I couldn’t live without him, that every move I made was a calculated play for his attention. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten my ultimatum—that if he went with her, we were through. He continued, explaining as if to a child, “Willow is just a naive kid. She was bullied a lot back in school and was scared of being singled out at the reunion. I was just looking out for her.” “Mhm, I understand,” I nodded, my agreement completely sincere. Of course, I understood. Just like I’d understood all the other times. When Willow’s laptop broke, he, the CEO, went to her apartment to fix it himself. When Willow worked late, he canceled our dinner plans to drive her home personally. When Willow was in a bad mood, he even ditched our anniversary date to stand in line for hours to buy her a limited-edition cake from some trendy bakery. All because she was “naive,” “vulnerable,” and “like a small animal that needed protecting.” My brain isn’t broken. How could I not understand? I rested my chin on my hand, blinked innocently, and asked a question that caught him completely off guard. “And what role were you playing while you were helping her, exactly?” The gentle expression on Peter’s face froze solid. I scoffed internally. Keep pretending. He played the part of the caring boss while acting like a boyfriend, savoring the thrill of the ambiguity and expecting me to be grateful for his “impartiality.” He probably expected me to cry, to scream, to demand answers, only to be shut down with his usual, “Don’t be unreasonable.” But honestly, I didn’t have the energy to play these games with him anymore. As I was figuring out the quickest way to get rid of him, Peter rubbed his temples, looking thoroughly exasperated. “Sienna, stop it. It was my fault, okay?” “Tell me what you want as an apology. A bag? A car?” He thought a limited-edition handbag would smooth things over, just like it always had. I was about to tell him to get lost. But the words caught in my throat, and an idea bloomed. I looked at his handsome face, etched with impatience and condescension, and a slow smile spread across my lips. “Alright.” Peter was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. Meeting his surprised gaze, I spoke, my voice clear and steady. “I want ten percent of Monks Corp.” 3. Peter didn’t agree right away. After some back and forth, he finally conceded, offering me seven percent as compensation. I propped my chin on my hand and watched him, my smile so genuinely joyful that it seemed to momentarily daze him. “Deal. But Mr. Monks, I’ll need to see the share transfer agreement first.” “Once it’s signed and sealed, I’ll come back to you, just like you want.” The look on Peter’s face was utterly grim. He had likely never been manipulated like this before, especially not by me, the one who was supposed to be pliable. But still, he nodded. “Fine.” Just as the word left his lips, his phone rang. He answered, and after listening for only a moment, his entire demeanor shifted. “I’m on my way!” He hung up without another glance at me, tossing a clipped, “Urgent business at the office,” over his shoulder as he hurried out the door. I raised an eyebrow, unbothered. Half an hour later, I was scrolling through my feed when I saw a new post. It was from Willow. The picture showed a man’s hand, the knuckles elegant and defined, gently dabbing her forehead with a towel. On the wrist was a Patek Philippe watch. The same one Peter had been wearing when he came to see me. The caption read: Just a little fever, but I didn’t expect someone to be so worried about me. I curled my lip and set my phone face down on the table. Then I waved over at the model, who was still waiting in the wings. “Come on back. Keep me company.” Peter, to his credit, was efficient. The very next morning, his lawyer delivered the share transfer agreement to my new villa. Seven percent. In black and white. As I signed my name, I couldn’t help but calculate Monks Corp’s net profits from the previous year. This golden goose was far more lovable than Peter himself. After finalizing the paperwork, I went to Monks Corp in person to register as a shareholder. Speak of the devil. I was stopped at the elevators by Willow. She looked positively indignant, her eyes red-rimmed as if she were carrying the weight of Peter’s suffering on her shoulders. “Ms. Scott, how could you do this to him?” “He’s such a good person! How could you threaten him with a misunderstanding and blackmail him for company shares? You’re nothing but a gold digger!” I almost laughed out loud. I crossed my arms, looking her up and down. “And you? What gives you the right to stand here and question me? By the way, that Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet on your wrist… I doubt you bought that yourself, did you?” The color drained from Willow’s face. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes darted around nervously. Just as I was about to dismiss her and leave, she lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. Then, she used my own hand to shove herself, hard. She crumpled to the ground like a fragile doll. A piercing shriek echoed through the entire lobby. And then, a man’s voice, sharp with anger and panic, roared from across the hall. “Willow!”

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The day the real heiress came back, I got the boot. My foster parents insisted I needed to taste the bitterness their biological daughter had suffered for twenty years. Ha, you call this bitterness? For a corporate drone like me, this isn’t a tragedy; it’s just a lifestyle recession. Turning a losing hand into a winning one? That’s my specialty. 1. Midnight. New York City. Pouring rain. I stood outside the Sterling family villa. Aside from the designer clothes on my back, the only thing I had left was my phone, which was practically glued to my hand anyway. The real heiress had been home for less than two hours, and I was already on the pavement. Lydia Sterling said she’d eaten dirt for twenty-two years, so I should taste what it’s like to be destitute. The heavy iron gates slammed shut. The cold rain slapped my face indiscriminately. 2. As a blue-collar soul who transmigrated into the body of a “cannon fodder” fake heiress, I enjoyed the rich girl life for less than twenty-four hours before returning to poverty. I walked around the perimeter of the villa and found a dry spot under the first-floor terrace. Directly above was my “brother,” Lucas’s room. “Don’t worry. She’s broke. Once she tastes a little hardship, she’ll realize the benefits of wealth and come crawling back to climb into your bed.” Lydia’s voice echoed down the drainpipe. Tsk. For a multi-million dollar mansion, the soundproofing was garbage. I knew it. Lucas had been handsy with me all afternoon—giving off major Flowers in the Attic vibes—but tonight he was silent. So he was planning to keep me as a sugar baby. He calculated wrong. To Lucas, having only one penthouse condo to his name is “poverty.” But for a grinder like me? A digital wallet with two hundred bucks is enough to survive for two weeks. Besides, my balance still held the remaining $12,000 from this month’s allowance. To the Sterlings, that’s popsicle money. To normal people? If you pinch pennies, that’s a few years of living expenses. They thought they were crushing me into the dust. To me? This was just consumption downgrading. 3. Twenty minutes later, my Uber arrived. The driver got out, opened the umbrella, and opened the door for me. I felt like a princess again—totally worth the 20% surge pricing. I don’t know what’s wrong with heroines in TV dramas. They get kicked out and insist on walking in the rain until they get pneumonia, just to max out the angst. I don’t have money for American healthcare. Life is hard enough; I’m not going to suffer for the aesthetic. 4. The driver dropped me at a Motel 6. Sixty bucks a night. I took a hot shower and sent my couture clothes to the front desk for dry cleaning. Before bed, I downed two packets of Emergen-C I ordered via DoorDash. When you’re out on the streets, you have to take care of yourself. For us poor folks, health is our only asset. If no one loves you, you love yourself. 5. I woke up feeling refreshed. Wearing my freshly dry-cleaned clothes, I headed to a wholesale market in Queens. I squeezed into a crowded stall, haggled like a demon, and spent twenty bucks on four t-shirts, three pairs of shorts, and a pair of canvas sneakers. As I left, the stall owner packed my bag while complaining. “Lady, you’re dressed so fancy, but you bargain like a shark. I’m giving you cost price, plus this nice bag.” Absolutely. Without a nice shopping bag, how was I going to sell my Louis Vuitton outfit for a good price? It’s a pity about the lambskin heels; they’re ruined. Rich people burn money—you wear those shoes once, the soles get scuffed, and the resale value tanks. However, my phone case, encrusted with Swarovski crystals, was worth something. An $800 phone with a $4,000 case. If I hadn’t checked the purchase history, I wouldn’t have dared to dream that people spent money like this. The original owner of this body was so distraught she went to work at a dive bar? That’s pure brain rot. 6. I spun around the city like a top all morning and finally liquidated every luxury item on my body. Now, nothing I wore cost more than $5.99. A full Temu aesthetic. Comfortable. This was a wardrobe that matched my spending habits. I walked with the wind at my back, carrying a balance of $9,500. I’m rich! I needed to treat myself. I found a hole-in-the-wall diner and ordered a greasy burger. The patty was thin, the cheese was processed, the pickles were crisp, and it smelled like heaven. Best of all, it was cheap. I hadn’t eaten a real meal since last night. I inhaled it. I picked the last crispy fry from the basket and let out a loud burp. Before I sold the clothes, I didn’t dare eat—couldn’t risk a stain dropping the resale value. Wearing gold and silver made me nervous. Living on a budget made me free. “You can’t feed fine grain to a wild hog,” as the saying goes. That’s me. 7. That afternoon, I used my ID to get a new SIM card and swapped the $800 phone for a $200 Motorola. Familiar operating system. Ah, the smell of value. I could drop it on the floor and not even flinch! I scrolled through my old chat history. Aside from cold ridicule and hot sarcasm, there were “sugar baby” offers from Lucas’s rich frat boy friends. Screw them. Money rotted their brains. The original girl had terrible social skills; she didn’t have a single ride-or-die friend to borrow money from. The most annoying text was a “Lord of the Manor” speech from Lucas asking if I “knew my place” yet. What? It’s a society of laws. Did he want to hang me from the city walls? I replied “F*** off” and blocked him. Know my place? Kiss my ass. 8. After liquidating everything, I carried a large black trash bag and checked out of the motel. It contained my entire net worth: my cheap clothes, plus the disposable toothbrush and slippers from the motel. Hotels in the city were too expensive. I planned to move to the outskirts. I hadn’t left the city yet because, as a college senior, I still needed to pick up my diploma. Before I transmigrated, my parents pulled me out of school after 8th grade to work in a factory. I was a fugitive from the compulsory education system. The thought of becoming a certified, college-educated corporate slave was actually kind of thrilling. Novels these days have no logic. Why would a girl with working limbs and a bachelor’s degree go work at the specific bar where the male lead hangs out? Just waiting for someone to throw a drink in her face? 9. I went back to school the day after graduation. I avoided the ceremony on purpose. I didn’t need to see Lydia leading a pack of mean girls to humiliate me. I wasn’t going to let that plot point happen. Graduation photos are just a ritual. The Principal moving the tassel on my cap won’t help me earn an extra dime. Why humiliate myself for classmates I’ll never see again? My academic advisor looked at me with concern. “Lexi, if you need anything, let me know.” “Nothing, I’m good. Thanks,” I said. Aside from the lunatic Sterling family, the rest of the world was pretty normal. I was fine. Compared to the heiress meant to inherit an empire, sure, I fell from heaven to earth. But compared to 90% of fresh grads with no allowance and no job, I had cash in my pocket. “Save the help for someone who needs it more. I got this!”

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My childhood friend’s favorite “innocent” flower was being accused of having her skirt peeped on by the scholarship student. To vent his anger, my friend slapped the poor guy across the face five times in the middle of the cafeteria. The student, who suffered from Hyperventilation Syndrome, collapsed on the spot, gasping for air. I was just about to call 911 when suddenly, floating text comments—like a live stream chat—scrolled across my vision. 【Is this side character even human? Just because the male lead is the only guy in class not worshipping her, she frames him for peeping? He was just crouching down to pick up a pen… That was the only black pen he owned!】 【The second male lead is a total rage-monster too. Go ahead, hit him. When the male lead falls down the stairs during his hyperventilation struggle and damages his frontal lobe, his personality will completely flip. He’ll turn dark. Forget about you and that pick-me girl—even your childhood friend’s entire family won’t escape his revenge. It’s going to be a total massacre!】 I froze. The comments were still scrolling. 【Actually, the childhood friend was planning to call an ambulance, but it was too late. For hyperventilation, they need to inhale carbon dioxide. Someone needs to find a paper bag…】 I didn’t wait for the comment to finish. I rushed forward, grabbed the scholarship student by the collar, and smashed my lips against his. You need carbon dioxide? Then suck it out of me, you little brat! 1. Jax’s lip had split from the slap; I could taste a faint metallic tang of blood. When he realized what I was doing, his eyes widened in disbelief, and he started struggling frantically. I licked my lips, grabbed his chin, and deepened the kiss. Gasps erupted from the surrounding students. I didn’t say a word. I just kept exhaling air into him. I was just trying a Hail Mary pass, but surprisingly, it actually worked. A moment later, Jax—who had been struggling for every breath, chest spasming, nearly suffocating—visibly relaxed. Seeing this, I slowly released him. 【…Bro, what just happened? Who is this girl forcing a kiss on the male lead?】 【She’s not forcing a kiss; she’s performing first aid! Hyperventilation Syndrome, or respiratory alkalosis, happens when you exhale too much carbon dioxide, messing up the body’s pH balance. That leads to trouble breathing, chest pain, and numbness.】 【Usually, you help the patient relax and re-inhale CO2, like using a paper bag. But in an emergency without tools… mouth-to-mouth works too.】 【Wait, that’s the second male lead’s childhood friend and fiancée, Chloe Sterling. What the hell? Why is she saving the male lead right now?】 【Is this really first aid? Because the chemistry between them is off the charts…】 I coughed awkwardly and subconsciously wiped the corner of my mouth. Jax was panting. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing a thrifted, oversized uniform. He was tall and thin, his skin deathly pale, with a flush on his cheeks from the violent coughing earlier. His eyes were wet, but his gaze was dark. His pitch-black pupils were fixed on me. In the dead silence of the cafeteria, under his creepy, unblinking stare, I silently reached out and wiped a bit of saliva from his lip. 【LMAO… This girl is bold.】 【The male lead’s eyes are 30% confusion, 50% despair… and is that 20% murderous intent?】 【Chloe: Chat, on a scale of 1 to 10, how dead am I?】 “Chloe! What the hell are you doing?!” Someone grabbed my arm from behind and yanked me back. I clicked my tongue and turned around. Austin looked furious. Sophie was cowering behind him, looking like a frightened deer. “Do you know he’s a pervert who looks up girls’ skirts? And you kissed him? Are you insane?” Sophie’s clear, innocent eyes darted between Jax and me. She hesitated before asking, “Chloe… are you two close? Then… tell us the truth. Does him peeping on me have anything to do with you?” “Is this because Austin didn’t celebrate your birthday last time? I was sick, and I’m really sorry. Please don’t be jealous. But even so, you can’t do this. You’re a girl, how could you… how could you…” Sophie choked up, as if she couldn’t bear to continue. Veins bulged on Austin’s forehead. He looked at me with unprecedented coldness. “Chloe, is what Sophie said true?” 2. Facing Austin’s gaze, my heart sank. The surrounding students started whispering. “Did Chloe really put him up to it?” “It’s not the first time she’s targeted Sophie. Just because she grew up with Austin and calls herself his fiancée, she bullies her every day…” “That’s disgusting. Using a guy to harass another girl?” Behind me, Jax’s breathing started to hitch again. He was on the verge of another attack. I ripped my arm out of Austin’s grip, turned around, and hugged Jax, patting his back soothingly. “He didn’t peek at her.” Austin sneered. ” defending him even now? You’re hopeless.” “You say he didn’t look. Do you have proof?” “Oh, so Sophie said he looked. Does she have proof?” Austin paused, then frowned deeply. “Can you stop being so unreasonable? What girl would joke about something like that? Sophie and Jax have no grudges. Why would she lie?” I laughed coldly. “That’s exactly why her behavior is so despicable. False accusations like this lower public sympathy and trust for actual victims. The only ones who suffer are the innocent women who really get hurt. Her heart is rotton.” “And no grudges? If I remember correctly, last semester she accused Jax of stealing her spot for the financial aid grant, didn’t she?” Sophie had transferred here last semester. Her mom was the housekeeper for Austin’s family. Sophie had bad grades, but got into our honors class through Austin’s connections. Immediately, she applied for the poverty subsidy. But our class only had one slot, and it had always gone to Jax. When Sophie found out, she went to Jax with red, teary eyes and showed him her “old” backpack. “Jax, I’m from a single-parent home. My mom works so hard as a maid. I really need that money. Please, can’t you let me have it this once?” Jax didn’t say anything. He just showed her his desk. He didn’t even have money for a backpack. Inside his desk, there was a single black pen. Sophie stomped her foot. “How can you be like this? You’ve gotten it so many times, you won’t share even once?” “Jax, I heard you have great grades and get the top scholarship. Why can’t you give this slot to a student in need? You’re hoarding survival resources. You know that’s selfish, right?” Jax ignored her and went back to studying stone-faced. Sophie bit her lip and walked away silently. In the end, the teacher gave the slot to Jax. However, the day Jax received the money, Sophie came to class early. She was carrying a luxury bag Austin had bought her—worth about twenty times the poverty subsidy. Sophie blocked Jax, her pale, delicate face full of stubbornness. “Jax, I just wanted to tell you. Things that belong to others… no matter what tricks you use, you can’t steal them.” Remembering this, Austin’s expression shifted slightly. But soon, he doubled down. “Even if that’s true…” I cut him off, enunciating every word. “No matter what, Jax would not look up her skirt. He wouldn’t look at any other girl.” Austin instinctively asked, “How do you know?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Because I trust his character.” Jax lifted his head, looking at me with a mix of confusion and curiosity. I paused. “And… and because Jax is my boyfriend. He’s obsessed with me. He would absolutely never look at another girl.” 3. Jax suddenly started coughing violently. 【Whoa, whoa! Is this canon? When did you two start dating? In your dreams?】 【Chloe, you’re confused! That’s the male lead! The mad dog who returns in five years to bankrupt your family, drive your parents to jump off a building, saddle you with massive debt, and sell you to a organ farm in Myanmar!】 【To be fair, he wasn’t targeting her specifically. It’s just that the Sterling and Song families are business partners with an arranged marriage. To take down Austin, he couldn’t spare Chloe’s family.】 Jax looked at me blankly, breathing fast, seemingly wanting to speak. “You…” In for a penny, in for a pound. I grabbed his collar and aggressively blocked his mouth again. Jax, the gloomy mushroom who lived in the corner, finally broke down during round two. His face turned beet red. “Mmph… mmph…” “Baby, are you having trouble breathing again? It’s okay, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m your medicine!” I treated him like a balloon and blew air into him with all my might. Jax went from struggling to losing all strength. Meanwhile, Austin, face twisted, tried to pull me away, but I kicked him back. When I finally released Jax, he was completely silent. I panted, looked around the cafeteria, and shouted. “As you can see, we are a couple. So it’s impossible for Jax to be peeping at girls’ skirts. Please don’t spread rumors. If I hear any more slander, I will take legal action.” After that, I grabbed Jax and marched out. Once we were far away from the cafeteria, Jax, who had been obediently letting me drag him, suddenly stopped. He looked at me quietly, his voice very soft. “…Why did you help me?” I stared at his handsome but gaunt face. My brain was looping the words: Bankruptcy. Parents jumping. Organ farm. After a long silence, I said firmly. “Because I like you. I want to date you. Jax, please like me back, just like I said earlier!” Jax was silent for a moment. “I think we…” “$15,000 a month.” “?” My eyes were resolute, my words powerful. “$30,000. I’ll open a bank account for you. Tax-free.” “No handling fees.” Jax looked bewildered and opened his mouth. “Wait a second…” “$70,000.” “……” He stopped talking. I pressed the attack. “Not only that, I’ll take care of you. I won’t disturb your studies. And if you hyperventilate again, I’ll give you artificial…” Jax’s face flushed. He interrupted me. “Stop, stop! I get it!” He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Chloe. But before that, I want to ask you… what exactly do you want? Aren’t you engaged to Austin? I heard you arguing once; he said your parents arranged it.” “If you’re using me to make him jealous or win him back, I…” He paused, looking grim, but continued. “You helped me, so I…” I said frankly, “It’s not like that. It’s just a verbal agreement between elders, a joke really. It doesn’t count. I don’t like him. As for my purpose…” I looked him in the eye. “I like you. I’m serious.” “Jax, please be my boyfriend, and then marry me.” “……” Jax lowered his eyes, his bangs covering the emotion in them. He was silent for a long time, then slowly nodded. …… As I walked away, his gaze followed my back tightly. After a long while, he whispered something. His voice was barely audible. “…You said it, Chloe.” I didn’t hear that last sentence. 4. Once I was alone, I finally started analyzing the bullet comments. The chat was already boiling over. 【The childhood friend is quick-witted. I didn’t know you could treat respiratory alkalosis like that.】 【The key is that the plot has changed. The crucial turning point for the male lead’s villain arc just got erased?】 【It’s useless. Avoiding the first time won’t stop the countless times that follow. The second male lead is the heir to the city’s richest family. It’s too easy for him to target the male lead. Even with the childhood friend…】 【Don’t mention it. Chloe can barely save herself. She and Austin really are childhood friends, engaged by their parents. But ever since the female lead moved into Austin’s house with her mom, Austin’s heart strayed. He makes Chloe yield to her in everything, and accuses Chloe of bullying her out of jealousy. No matter how much she likes him, her heart has been broken. She just can’t fall out with him because of family pressure.】 【Sob… both babies are so pitiful…】 I scratched my head awkwardly. Even though the comments said that, I still had to help Jax. First, I don’t want to go bankrupt. Nobody can separate me from my money. I have a balance with that many zeros, and a huge, beautiful villa. Second, speaking of huge… Jax seems… …Getting off track. Anyway, I already have a rough plan for my future with Jax. The next day, I asked the teacher to switch my seat so I could sit next to Jax. Jax was brilliant but silent and socially isolated. The guys thought he was arrogant, so he was unpopular. Combined with his refusal to talk to girls, his presence in class was like a mushroom growing in a dark corner. After class, I sat next to him, spinning my pen into a blur while staring at his pale lips. Then again, even if he is a mushroom, he’s a beautiful, poisonous mushroom. Thinking this, I asked, “Baby, are you thirsty? Want some water?” I pulled out my Crayon Shin-chan “kissy face” tumbler (500ml). Jax, whose gaze had been drawn to me, suddenly froze. “……” A question mark slowly floated up from the dark mushroom’s head. I shoved the cup toward him. “Come on, baby, your lips are dry. Take a sip. Ahhh—” As the Crayon Shin-chan on the lid slowly approached, Jax went stiff, staring deathly at the giant, puckered “O” shaped lips. “……” “Hahahahahaha!” I couldn’t help slamming the desk and laughing. The comments were having a field day. 【I can’t breathe. The male lead’s face!】 【Anti-social Mad Dog ✗ Poor Puppy Defeated by Abstract Art ✔】 【Am I the only one wondering? Chloe, do you usually bring your pretty face close to that cursed cup…】 After teasing him enough, I finally poked the straw into the cup. “Just kidding. It has a straw. Drink up.” Jax still hesitated. I poked him with my finger. “I washed it right before coming to school. No cooties.” “I wasn’t…” “Besides, we’ve kissed like eight hundred times. Do you still care about this? Drink, your lips are cracking.” Jax’s pupils trembled. “Eight hundred times???” LMAO. This little thing is so fun to play with.

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My long-distance boyfriend suddenly texted me saying his hair was falling out. I asked how it happened, and he said he “rubbed it off by hand.” Shocked, I typed back: “Damn, you play that hard?” Julian: “?” 【LMAO. The male lead is literally a fox who likes grooming his own fur, and the female lead’s mind went straight to the gutter.】 【Right? Poor baby fox is collecting his shed fur right now to knit a scarf for her.】 【Hahaha, bet he’s gonna show up at her door tonight.】 As soon as the floating chat comments faded, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find a tiny, snow-white baby fox wearing a white scarf, sitting obediently on my welcome mat. 1 Seeing the door open, the little fox didn’t hesitate. He trotted in on his little paws. He even leaned against my pant leg, staring up at me with big blue eyes, rubbing his head against my ankle. 【OMG so cute! Who sends themselves as a care package to their online girlfriend like this?】 【He loves her so much. Turning into a baby fox just to cuddle.】 I was completely bewildered. So, this fox is my boyfriend of three months? Where is my 6-foot-tall, eight-pack abs, gym-rat Daddy? While my brain was buffering, the chat comments wouldn’t let up. 【Look at this girl, total blockhead. Can’t she see how desperate he is?】 【His little tail is drooping. That look screams ‘pet me, please.’】 【Girl, you better study hard and provide for him. He gift-wrapped himself for you!】 I looked down. Sure enough, the pure white fluff-ball was hugging my leg, looking up at me with a pitiful, pleading expression. I fell silent. Then I squatted down and scooped up this creature—who was allegedly my aloof, cool-guy boyfriend—into my arms. The little fox didn’t struggle. He lay obediently in my arms, the tip of his tail gently swaying against my forearm. 【Hehe, target acquired. Is the cohabitation arc starting?】 【Yesss, here for it!】 I placed the fox on my bed and narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing him. I wasn’t thinking about anything deep. I was just wondering… if Julian is like this, will I ever get to see those eight-pack abs and that firm butt again?! The fox blinked his watery blue eyes. With a soft paw, he hooked the white scarf off his neck. He held it in his mouth, wagging his tail. 【Take it, Lexi! He knit that scarf with the fur he groomed off himself!】 【He loves collecting his shed fur to make stuff for her. He’s been online dating for three months and this simp has knitted everything. He even knitted himself a collar.】 【Haha yeah, he told her he was shedding, and she thought he was doing… something else.】 【Hehe, well, technically she wasn’t wrong about the hand motion.】 I quickly took the scarf and wrapped it around my neck. It was incredibly soft. Free stuff is the best stuff. I didn’t expect Julian, that brooding mystery man, to have such domestic skills. But if he keeps harvesting himself like this, is he going to go bald? 2 【She’s been staring at him since she walked in. Does she suspect something? Why is she poking him?】 I gently parted the fur on the fox’s tummy, frowning with regret when I saw the pinkish-white belly. Turned into a fox, and the abs are gone. Tragedy. The little fox melted into a puddle, ears drooping, eyes getting heavy. But when my hand reached a certain… area, his tail immediately clamped down tight between his legs. 【LMAO what is she looking for?】 I blinked. If I can’t see the glutes, I was just curious… cough. I heard foxes have… knots? Can’t say it. Forbidden knowledge. Forget it. It’s late. Time to sleep. I yawned and wrapped my arms around the stiff little fox. “Time for bed, little fox. I’ll study hard and be your sugar mama.” I mumbled nonsense as sleep took over. The fox in my arms finally relaxed. He buried his little head against my chest. I hugged him tight like a plushie. “Julian, you jerk… why won’t you come see me…” I murmured in my sleep. The fox stiffened again, not daring to move a muscle. 3 【Girl, how can you sleep?! He found your secrets!】 A snow-white head poked out from the duvet, staring at the phone screen lighting up on the nightstand. His eyes showed a very human expression of disbelief and heartbreak. 【He saw the notifications. Three other guys texting her.】 【It’s over. This fluff fic is turning into a dark romance.】 I woke up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I glanced at the floating text, then at the fox. He wasn’t sleeping at all. The fur on his cheeks was wet. He had been crying. I sighed. Right in front of Julian, I unlocked my phone. I opened the messages from the so-called “three men.” Sure enough, the little fox went rigid, turning his head away in a huff. I couldn’t blame Julian for feeling insecure. We met online, after all. It started because I wanted a “wolf dog” type boyfriend—someone fierce but loyal. I stumbled upon Julian’s profile picture. I was practically licking the screen. He was too handsome. So I harassed him. I DM’d him “Hubby” every day until he finally gave me his WeChat. Even the coldest man can’t resist being called “Hubby” a thousand times. That day, I sent: Hubby, let me be your sugar mama. Date me. He replied instantly: Okay. Julian was terrified I called other people “Hubby” online. I tapped on the message from a contact named “Alpha Wolf.” Want to meet up? The fox clearly saw it. His tail puffed up like a bottle brush. Shortly after Julian and I got together, I asked to meet up. He refused, dead set against it. But now, someone else was offering. I scrolled to the second guy, “Gym Rat.” He sent a few flexing photos. The fox dug his claws into the bedsheet. I glanced at them. Meh. Not as pretty as Julian’s. Back when Julian wouldn’t meet, I begged for ab pics. I spent days drooling over those photos. To compensate for the long distance, Julian really put himself out there. He sent everything. I tried to break up because of the distance. He sent abs. I said I couldn’t sleep. He sent… private photos. I asked if men really had nice butts. He sent a pic of his glutes. Until the day he said he was shedding. And said it was “by hand.” I was so mad. I thought, You’re having fun by yourself and not including me? Turns out, he’s a fox! Who understands the feeling of waking up to find your boyfriend is a magical creature? And I heard they have… Cough. The excitement outweighs the anger. The third guy was “Mr. Sunshine.” Just friendly check-ins. Things Julian used to do. But all three of them could meet me in person. Julian, in his baby fox form, went into full panic mode. He pounced into my arms, slamming his paw on the phone to turn off the screen. I pretended to sigh, patting his furry back. “Little fox, you know I’m an adult. Adults have emotional needs.” “But my online boyfriend won’t even meet me. And he hasn’t replied all day.” I feigned heartbreak. The little fluff-ball in my arms turned to stone. 【She’s savage. Right in the feels.】 【He’s devastated. Whimper. Baby fox is traumatized.】 Having sufficiently stimulated him, I hugged the fox contentedly and went back to sleep. Actually, those three guys were just blind date candidates my parents tried to set me up with. Only Julian took it for real. Silly fox. He needs a little push. 4 【Is she dreaming? They say holding what you desire most while sleeping boosts your vitality.】 【Cough. She’s getting boosted alright, but he’s a fox right now!】 【I don’t wanna know about the boost, I just wanna know… is it prickly?】 I woke up to the noise of the chat. I squeezed my hand. Something felt off. It was soft, but also… firm? Like a balloon. Does the texture change? I opened my eyes and met a pair of resentful blue eyes. The snow-white fox had turned a flushed pinkish-white. And in my hand, I was holding… No. That has to be Julian’s… lipstick. Red rocket. Whatever you call it. I blinked. My hand twitched, and he let out a whimper. The soft, sweet sound was totally different from Julian’s usual deep, raspy voice. I was scared. I thought I was doing something illegal. If Julian hadn’t turned into a fox, I probably wouldn’t have gotten to touch this. Thinking he might be angry later, I immediately let go. But the little fox looked… disappointed? 【LMAO did she get pricked?】 I thought back. Yeah, it was a little prickly. Barb-like. 【Look at his regretful face. He wanted a round two.】 【He was literally whining in pleasure.】 I peeked. The fox’s ears were drooping sadly. He really wanted it. But it’s prickly! And I wonder if Human Julian is prickly too? Also, the size difference between the baby fox and Human Julian… I’ve seen the photos. Back when we were online, I had to call him “Hubby” for a week before he sent that pic. He warned me: Don’t call anyone else Hubby, or no more ab pics. I cowardly agreed to be a one-man woman. Julian was satisfied and sent a few more high-res photos. Caption: Rations for the week. Use sparingly. I slept until noon. When I went to wash my clothes, I found yesterday’s laundry was gone. I ran to the balcony. My underwear was hanging there, clean and dry. 【She’s stunned. Of course our boy did it.】 【Jealous all night, he woke up, turned human, washed her underwear with a cold face, and even went for a run.】 【Then she was still sleeping, so he resigned himself to fate and turned back into a fox pillow.】 【True love. Willing to be a spare tire and a laundry maid.】 I glanced at the fox. Washing my underwear, willing to be a backup option… why won’t he just turn human and play with me? Stingy. Julian, curled up on the bed trying to nap, suddenly felt a chill. 【Yikes, does she know? That look in her eyes…】 【Interesting. A game of cat and… fox.】 For lunch, I prepared meat for Julian and played on my phone. He wouldn’t eat. He lay on my lap, trying to peek at my screen. 【He’s scared she’s texting those three guys.】 【Protective little thing.】 I looked at Julian. He looked away. I looked at my phone; he glared at it. Helplessly, I put the phone down and carried him to the table. We had a staring contest. “Eat,” I pushed the plate. Eat more. Grow that booty. The fox pushed it back, looking disgusted. “You won’t eat raw meat? Foxes eat raw meat.” “I get it. You want kibble.” I brought over some cat food. The fox went stiff, tail rigid. I rubbed his furry head aggressively. So soft. Seriously, Julian. If you can turn into a fox to sleep with me, just turn human already. Then I wouldn’t have to lick my screen looking at photos. Hmph. The price of lying is eating Meow Mix. “Eat up. If you eat, Big Sister will give you a kiss.” I tempted him, taking advantage of his crush. The fox’s ears perked up. He stared at the kibble, conflicted. 【He’s debating between dignity and a kiss.】 【No way. He’s a majestic Nine-Tailed Fox. Him? Eating cat food?】 【It was humiliating enough turning into a baby fox to get in the door. Now this?】 Seeing the words “Nine-Tailed Fox,” my eyes lit up. Does that mean I can roll around in a pile of tails? The fox’s mouth was already full of kibble. I poked his soft cheek. “Slow down. I won’t steal it.” He almost choked. I patted his back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Kiss reward coming soon.” His ears turned pink. I suspect Julian is very excited. Once, I told him I wanted to kiss him. He shyly said okay, but he needed to “study” first. Technically, neither of us knew how. But I’m a pervert, so I planted bad ideas in his head. I told him kissing meant “kissing every single place.” Julian, usually so dark and cool, always seemed to lose a few IQ points around me. He believed it and decided that was the protocol. 【LMAO he actually ate it. This man will do anything for a smooch.】 【Of course! He’s a virgin. This cool guy dreams every day of giving his first kiss to her.】 【Who would have guessed he has wet dreams about her where he pops his ears and tails out and giggles?】

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The System ordered me to humiliate the impoverished villain. But I’m a total coward. I could only tremble as I dropped a chicken drumstick from my bowl into his. “I… I licked this! Now you have to eat it!” The villain, whose eyes were originally filled with gloom, paused. I thought I had succeeded in degrading him. Later, when I found out his mom was hospitalized and he needed money, I tried to escalate the bullying. I threw a black card at him. “Get on your knees. Be my dog, and lick my shoes clean!” His eyes darkened. He crouched down, gripped my ankle, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Okay.” Later, the System came to check on my progress as a vicious antagonist. I excitedly slapped the villain across the face. He looked at me with restrained endurance, his voice husky. I bragged to the System, “See? He’s totally humiliated!” The System sneered. “You idiot! He’s getting off on it.” Huh? While I stood there stunned, I felt a wet, tingling sensation on my fingertips where I’d touched him. 1. I’ve been in this book for a month. And I’m still a wimp. The System was losing its mind: 【Seriously, what are you waiting for? You’re the spoiled heiress! Are you scared of a scholarship student?】 【Go! Humiliate him! Show him the cruelty of society!】 I cowered. “H-how do I bully him?” Before I transmigrated, I was a good girl. I didn’t know how to be mean. Plus, I was terrified. Jax, the villain, had muscles that looked like they were carved from granite. I heard he fought in underground cages for cash. One swing of his arm and I’d be paste. Right now, he was eating quietly in the cafeteria. On his tray, there was only a dry bun and some free pickles. The System urged me: 【Stop stalling! Go flip his tray and make him lick the floor!】 I took a deep breath, grabbed my lavish lunch tray, and marched over to Jax. He looked up. He stared at me expressionlessly, then went back to eating his bun. I shouted his name ferociously, “Jax!” He lifted his eyelids, raising a brow. He didn’t speak. He just looked at me. The pressure was suffocating. My hand shook as I used my chopsticks to drop a chicken drumstick—one I’d already taken a bite of—into his bowl. “It’s got my saliva on it. You have to eat it!” I felt like a monster. Making the future villain eat my leftovers? That’s peak humiliation. Guilty, I met his gaze. “What are you looking at? I hate you! I don’t want this anymore, so you lick it clean!” The cafeteria went silent. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up because I saw Jax’s knuckles turn white. I went too far. The next second, Jax reached out. I flinched, expecting a punch. Instead, he deliberately picked up the chicken leg. Under my shocked gaze, he bit down exactly where my teeth marks were. “…” “You… why did you eat it?” His throat moved as he swallowed, the action making my cheeks burn for some reason. “Isn’t that what the Princess wanted?” This reaction was completely off-script. I opened my mouth, but my rehearsed insults died in my throat. “You… you…” He narrowed his eyes, wiped his hands, stood up, and leaned close to my ear. “Did you want to watch me lick it clean, Princess?” “…Who wants to watch that!” I covered my burning ears, shoved him away, and ran out of the cafeteria. The System was speechless: 【Why are you running? You look like the victim here.】 【New plot point incoming. His mom is sick. Go throw money at him and make him your dog!】 2. I gritted my teeth and had the butler withdraw a bag of cash. Dressed in designer clothes, I arrived at Jax’s home. It was in the projects, a run-down apartment complex. I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened from the inside. The System scoffed: 【Why are you so polite? Kick the door open! It looks like you’re here to deliver a care package.】 Jax looked pale. He froze when he saw me. Hearing the System’s nagging, I gathered my courage. “I heard your mom needs $50,000 for surgery, I…” Jax cut me off with a glare. “You investigated me?” I was so scared I forgot my lines. The System screamed in my brain: 【Throw the money in his face! Humiliate him!】 I mentally hyped myself up. Then, I smashed the bag of money against his chest. Bills scattered everywhere, some drifting into the apartment. “So what? Kneel and pick it up!” My voice trembled. “Be my dog, and this money is yours to save your mom!” Jax stood motionless, his jawline tight. The hallway was terrifyingly quiet, save for his heavy breathing. Suddenly, a weak cough came from inside the room. Jax stiffened. The storm in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dead calm. He slowly crouched down, one knee touching the floor. His long fingers picked up the bills one by one. This man, who beat opponents into submission in the ring, kept his head down and said in a terrifyingly calm voice: “Okay.” The System cheered: 【He’s definitely feeling the ultimate shame right now. He pretends to agree, but he probably wants to kill you.】 I decided to press my advantage. I extended my foot. “This dirty hallway ruined my shoes.” “Lick… I mean, wipe them clean.” Jax looked up. His eyes were dark abysses. “Chloe, do you know what you’re doing?” 3. It was the first time he called me by my name. My heart skipped a beat. In the original book, the villain held grudges like no other. Once he got power, everyone who wronged him suffered. And I was top of the list. I wanted to cry. “Boohoo, I’m scared.” Why did I poke the bear? I’m dead meat! The System cursed: 【I just praised you, and now you’re wimping out?】 【Once the plot is done, you leave this world. When he gets powerful, you won’t even be here. Be fiercer!】 Oh, right. I inflated instantly, deliberately tapping his knee with the toe of my shoe. “Who allowed you to speak to me like that?” “Jax, do you want to save your mom or not?” “I return disobedient dogs!” Jax closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. He looked like he wanted to crush me. If he crushes me, I’ll just be flat Chloe. A moment later, he dropped to one knee. I stepped back in fear, but he grabbed my ankle. His palm was hot and dry, sending a shiver through me. “W-what are you doing?” I tried to pull back, but his grip tightened. “Didn’t the Princess want her shoes cleaned? Why are you hiding?” The corner of his mouth hooked up. He lifted the hem of his tank top, revealing sharply defined abs. My eyes widened as I watched him use his own shirt to gently wipe the tip of my shoe. He was so close I could smell the faint scent of soap on him. I could even see the outline of… muscles under his gray sweatpants. My face was burning. The skin on my ankle where he held me felt like it was on fire. “Your dress got dirty too.” Jax’s voice was low and raspy. His fingers grazed my calf. “Do you need me to take it off and wash it for you, Princess?” “N-no!” I panicked, threw a debit card on the ground, and shook him off. “Who said you could talk? Get to my house!” “My dog lives with me. On call, 24/7.” Then, I ran for my life. 4. Back in my room, I buried my face in my pillow. The System spoke up: 【Critical plot point passed successfully.】 【That confident exit was very cool.】 Is it possible I was just running fast because I was terrified? 【By the way, I picked up a side gig. You’re on your own for a bit. Remember, boss him around and humiliate him!】 “Okay.” The System vanished. At midnight, I got thirsty and went downstairs barefoot for water. I bumped right into Jax. “Why are you here?” My butler had reported that Jax’s mom was settled in the VIP ward with a private nurse. Jax had stayed with her until 10 PM. Suddenly seeing him, I patted my chest. “Trying to scare me to death?” “Kneel and apologize!” After a day of this, I had mastered the art of being a brat. Jax’s eyes were dark, making him look scary in the dim light. I regretted it immediately and thought about just walking away. Suddenly, my feet left the ground. I lost my balance and clung to his neck for dear life. I grabbed his hair. “Pervert! How dare you touch me? I’ll punish you!” He set me down, but placed my feet on top of his own shoes. “The floor is cold,” he rasped. I looked down. He was wearing the fluffy slippers I told the maid to buy for him. “How will you punish me, Princess?” His hot hands gripped my waist. The shame skyrocketed. I slapped him. “Bad dog! Don’t touch me without permission!” Jax’s head turned to the side from the force of the slap. He ran his tongue over his teeth. A hint of gloom surfaced in his eyes. I thought, It’s over. Then I saw blood on the other side of his face—old blood he hadn’t washed off. “Why is your face injured?” My heart softened. I touched it gently. “Does it hurt?” Jax’s breath hitched. He clenched his fists. “Did you go fighting again?” He was silent. But he didn’t stop moving. He scooped me up princess-style and carried me to the sofa. He even found socks for me. When he stood up, I pulled his shirt up. Bruises and scars covered his torso. “I gave you money. Why do you still do dangerous things?” He calmly pulled his shirt down. He looked at me. “Is the Princess heartbroken?” “I-I am not! Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to play with my dog.” “Only I can bully you. No one else.” He swallowed hard. His gaze was obscure. It made my heart race. I stood up to avoid his eyes, threw the first-aid kit at him. “Heal up and serve me properly. If I see you injured again, I’m replacing you.” As I walked upstairs, I heard his reply. “Understood.” “The Princess can bully me as much as she wants.”

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