Liam Blackwood and I both struggled with fertility, yet we desperately wanted a child. After three years of marriage, countless doctor visits, and medications, I finally conceived. Just as I was about to tell him the happy news, I saw him with his arm around his mistress’s waist, standing before me, and he said coldly: “Serena’s baby needs a father. Let’s get a divorce.” I walked out of the hospital, clutching my pregnancy test report. The scorching July sun blinded me. The words “intrauterine early pregnancy, approximately 7 weeks” on the paper made my eyes well up. Three years. We had finally waited for this tiny life. My fingers unconsciously grazed my still-flat abdomen. I imagined Liam’s expression when he heard the news. For this child, how many bitter medicines had he drunk? How many IV drips had he endured? He had even swallowed his pride, practically begging those “specialist” doctors. After every failure, he would hold me close and say, “Evie, it’s okay. We have each other, and that’s enough.” But I knew how much he wanted a child. Every time he saw someone else’s baby in the park, his gaze would follow them for a long, long time. I pulled out my phone, snapped a photo of the report, then deleted it. Something this big, I had to tell him in person. I decided to cook all his favorite dishes and open a bottle of red wine we’d saved from our wedding. I wanted to see him so surprised he couldn’t speak, to see him gently touch my belly. I made a detour to the supermarket for the freshest ingredients, then stopped at a florist for a few sunflowers—he always said they reminded him of me, always facing the sun. As I reached our front door, still planning the dinner setup, I noticed the door was unlocked. “Liam? Are you home?” I pushed the door open. My words died in my throat as I froze in the entryway. In the living room, Liam and Serena Hayes stood incredibly close. No, not just close. His arm was around her shoulder, and she was leaning into his embrace. My grocery bag dropped to the floor, oranges rolling everywhere. “Evie…” Liam quickly let go of Serena, a flicker of panic crossing his face. Then, he regained that familiar, calm expression he used for business, “Perfect timing. I have something to tell you.” Serena ran a hand through her hair, flashing me a pitying smile. That smile made my stomach churn. Serena and Liam had grown up together. She was even my bridesmaid at our wedding. For the past three years, she had always appeared in our lives at just the right moment. Bringing Liam late-night snacks when he worked overtime, keeping him company when I was on a business trip, all under the innocent guise of “just being friends.” “Serena is pregnant.” Liam’s voice was utterly calm, as if he were commenting on the weather. “It’s not my child, but her family situation is complicated, and they can’t accept an unmarried pregnancy. I’ve agreed to be the child’s father.” My ears buzzed. The bouquet in my hand fell to the floor. Serena bent down to pick it up, and beneath her loose-fitting top, I could clearly see a slight bump. “So?” I heard my own voice ask, unnervingly calm. “So…” Liam took a deep breath. “Let’s get a divorce. I’ll compensate you. The house is yours, and we’ll split our savings evenly.” I looked at Serena. She was stroking her belly, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. I suddenly remembered last month, Liam said he had a work dinner and wouldn’t be home. But I saw a night-view photo Serena posted on her Ins, and in the corner, a man’s hand clearly wore the same watch as Liam. “Okay.” I heard myself say. Liam visibly flinched. He probably had a whole speech prepared to convince me, but he hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. “You… don’t have anything to say?” He asked. I shook my head, bending down to pick up the scattered groceries. “When should we finalize the paperwork?” “Tomorrow, I guess, before you…” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flickering. “Before I change my mind?” I finished his sentence for him, “I smiled. Don’t worry, I won’t.” I walked into the kitchen and put the salvageable ingredients into the fridge. The pregnancy test report lay in my bag, burning through the fabric. Three years of trying for a child, how many bitter medicines had he drunk? How many injections had I received? All those nights we cried in each other’s arms, it turned out, meant nothing compared to an unknown child in Serena’s womb. That evening, as Liam packed his bags, I sat on the balcony, watching the stars. He walked over, wanting to say something but remaining silent. “Don’t worry, I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t agree out of spite. I just suddenly realized that for these three years, you didn’t love *me*, you only loved a woman who could give you a child.” “That’s not true…” He tried to argue but ultimately fell silent. The next day, the divorce process was surprisingly quick. As the official stamp fell, I vaguely recalled three years ago, when we came here to register our marriage, he was so nervous he dropped his ID card. “Thank you for these three years,” I said calmly, turning to leave, but then I saw Serena walking from the other end of the hall. “I arranged for Serena to come for the marriage certificate,” Liam explained awkwardly. “Figured… it’d save us another trip.” I nodded and walked toward the street. As I turned, through the glass doors, I saw Liam carefully helping Serena by her waist, whispering something to her. On his face was that familiar, long-awaited gentle expression. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of love; he just didn’t love me. I touched my belly, hailed a taxi, and said, “To City Central Hospital, please.” 2 Walking out of the courthouse, the July sun poured down like molten gold, blinding me. I stood on the steps, clutching my divorce certificate, its edges sharp enough to cut my fingers. Inside the glass doors, Liam was helping Serena fill out their marriage application. He leaned in to whisper something to her, a gentle curve on his lips I had never seen before. Serena giggled, playfully punching his chest. That intimate gesture… how could it be just a relationship of responsibility for a sudden pregnancy? A sharp pang shot through my abdomen. I instinctively clutched my stomach. For the past three years, my periods had always been this painful. Doctors said it was one of the symptoms of infertility caused by endometriosis. But now, a tiny life was growing inside my uterus—the child Liam had yearned for, yet had personally abandoned. Cold sweat trickled down my temples. The world before me began to twist and spin. I fumbled, reaching for the wall, but grasped at air. The last thing I heard was a gasp from passersby, then the world plunged into darkness. The smell of disinfectant stung my nostrils. I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling. “You’re awake?” An unfamiliar male voice reached me. I turned my head, meeting a pair of serious eyes. The doctor was around forty, his name tag read: Dr. Alex Stone, Head of Obstetrics. “I…” “Evelyn Reed, 32 years old, 7 weeks pregnant. Preliminary diagnosis for fainting is low blood sugar combined with emotional fluctuation.” He flipped through my medical chart. “You know you’re a high-risk pregnancy due to age, right?” My fingers tightened on the bedsheet. “The fetus is stable for now, but your underlying health isn’t great, and you’ve had long-term hormonal imbalance. This pregnancy is quite miraculous.” Dr. Stone adjusted his glasses. “If you want to keep this child, you must be extremely careful.” The ward door pushed open, and my cousin, Chloe Jensen, rushed in, still holding my bag. “Evie! You scared me to death!” She practically pounced on the bed, then managed to compose herself slightly when she saw the doctor. “Doctor, how is my cousin?” Dr. Stone repeated the situation. Chloe’s expression went from worried to shocked, finally settling on fury. “Does that scumbag Liam Blackwood know?” I shook my head, my stomach churning again. Dr. Stone discreetly left the room, leaving us two cousins alone. Chloe gripped my hand, noticing I was trembling. “Are you going to tell him?” Outside, on the sycamore tree, a bird chirped tirelessly. I remembered the joy in Liam’s eyes this morning when he touched Serena’s belly, and that soft “Thank you for making me a dad” felt like a blunt knife, repeatedly carving at my nerves. “No.” I heard myself say. “He doesn’t deserve to know.” Chloe sighed, taking my check-up report and a termination consent form from her bag. “Then these…” “I’m keeping this baby.” I gently stroked my abdomen. It was still flat, but a small life had already taken root. Call me selfish, but this might be my only chance to be a mother. Chloe’s eyes reddened. She hugged me tight: “Don’t say such silly things! I’ll raise the baby with you! We’ve never needed a man to get by!” I leaned on her shoulder, tears silently falling. For three years of marriage, Liam had been almost my entire world. And now, before the dust of that collapsed world had even settled, new life was already budding in the ruins. After being discharged, I moved into Chloe’s apartment. She insisted I rest for a week before going back to work, cooking up different nourishing meals every day. “Are you taking care of a pregnant woman or feeding a pig?” I laughed wryly, looking at the fifth dish on the table. “Less talk, you’re eating for two now!” Chloe put a piece of fish in my bowl. “Oh, right. I contacted a lawyer for you, Julian Thorne. He specializes in high-stakes divorce settlements, very well-known. Tomorrow morning at ten, go to his office to chat.” My fork paused. “As for assets, Liam said the house is mine, and we’ll split the savings…” “You believe him?” Chloe scoffed. “A man’s promises when he’s cheating are worth less than toilet paper. Don’t forget, Blackwood & Reed Creative was co-founded by both of you, and you own 40%!” I fell silent. Blackwood & Reed Creative—I had even come up with the name, combining a part of both our names. In three years, we had grown from a two-person studio to an advertising agency of over fifty people, specializing in high-end brand design. Liam handled client relations, and I managed creative design. We were considered a golden duo in the industry. The next day, I arrived at Thorne Legal Associates as planned. The receptionist led me to an office where a man in a dark grey suit stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me, talking on the phone. “Mr. Henderson, we’ve taken your company’s case, but one thing must be clear—” He turned around, giving me a slight nod when he saw me. “Without sufficient evidence, I don’t recommend litigation… Okay, send the documents to my email this afternoon.” He hung up and extended his hand to me. “Ms. Reed? I’m Julian Thorne.” As I shook his hand, I noticed that this renowned lawyer was younger than I expected. Around thirty-five, with sharp eyes, but a surprisingly gentle voice. “Chloe Jensen briefly introduced your situation to me.” Julian gestured for me to sit down. “First of all, I deeply sympathize with what you’ve been through.” “Thank you, but I need professional advice more.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I want to know how I can secure my maximum interests within the bounds of the law.” Julian raised an eyebrow slightly, seemingly surprised by my directness. He pulled out a form. “Please fill out your basic information first, including marriage date, joint assets, individual shareholdings, etc.” As I filled it out, he added, “Chloe mentioned you both operated an advertising company?” “Blackwood & Reed Creative. I own 40%, Liam Blackwood owns 60%.” I paused. “But in practice, we always maintained a true 50/50 partnership.” Julian jotted something down in his notebook. “Do you have access to the company’s financial statements for the past three years?” “Yes, I’m the Creative Director and involved in management.” “Excellent.” He nodded. “I suggest you back up these documents as soon as possible, including client lists, contract copies, bank statements, etc.” My heart tightened. “You suspect Liam might tamper with things?” Julian didn’t answer directly. “Prevention is better than cure. In my experience, it’s not uncommon for assets to be transferred before or after a divorce.” He opened The Civil Code, pointing to several legal provisions. “Based on your situation, marital joint property should, in principle, be divided equally. However, if there are acts of concealment or transfer of assets, the offending party may receive less or no share.” The conversation lasted nearly two hours. Julian meticulously analyzed every possibility. As I left, he handed me a business card: “24-hour availability. Contact me anytime if anything comes up.” “As for fees…” I hesitated. “Chloe is a college friend of mine; we’ve already sorted it out.” He smiled faintly. “Consider it a welcome gift for the little one.” I paused. Chloe, that bigmouth, had already told him about my pregnancy? Julian seemed to sense my confusion. “She only mentioned you might need legal advice during pregnancy, but I guessed.” His gaze fell on my hand, which I unconsciously protected my abdomen with. “Occupational hazard, observing details.” Back home, I opened my laptop, logged into the company system, and started backing up important files. While reviewing the past three months’ financial records, a set of unusual numbers caught my attention. Last month, a sum of 500,000 had been transferred to an account named “Serena Studios,” with the note “brand collaboration prepayment.” Serena? Serena Hayes? I searched the company’s project list. There were no records related to “Serena Studios.” Scrolling further back, there were two similar transfers, totaling 1.2 million. That much money was enough to buy a studio apartment in the city center. A SnapChat notification popped up. It was from Julian: “Forgot to remind you: check the company account’s login records. Look for any unusual IPs.” I checked the backend logs and found that my account had been logged in three times at 2 AM over the past month. The IP address showed the West End—the district where Liam and Serena now lived. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time. I ultimately didn’t take a screenshot. Instead, I picked up my phone and called Julian. “I think I’ve found some evidence,” I said, my voice calmer than I expected. “Liam Blackwood has been transferring money to Serena Hayes using the company’s account.” Silence on the other end for a moment. “Can you prove this payment doesn’t correspond to actual business?” “I’m checking now.” I clicked on the project management system. “But it’s very suspicious. The project numbers for these three transfers don’t exist.” “Don’t alarm them,” Julian’s voice grew serious. “First, gather a complete chain of evidence. If possible, I’ll come to your company tomorrow under the guise of a legal consultant to review the original documents.” Hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, feeling a wave of exhaustion. Outside, the night was deep, the city lights scattered like stars. Once upon a time, Liam and I would often work late like this, then walk hand-in-hand to a noodle shop downstairs for a late-night snack. He’d always order two plates of dumplings – I loved the wrapper, he loved the filling. Now, he was probably with Serena, getting a prenatal check-up. I heard she was four months pregnant, a full nine weeks ahead of my baby. I gently stroked my abdomen. There were no changes yet, but I knew a tiny life was quietly growing. For this child, I had to be strong. Liam Blackwood wants to use my money to support his mistress? Dream on. 3 Monday morning, I stood before the Reed Arts building, gazing up at the twenty-story glass-walled structure. Three years ago, when Liam and I rented a small office here, we used to joke that one day, the entire building would be ours. Now, the company indeed occupied the top three floors, but my marriage lay in fragments. In the elevator, I adjusted my collar, reflected in the metal doors. I had deliberately chosen this dark blue suit jacket. Its loose cut perfectly concealed my slightly bulging abdomen, and the padded shoulders made me look more commanding. At eleven weeks pregnant, the morning sickness was torturous, but at least my figure hadn’t noticeably changed yet. “Good morning, Ms. Reed!” Sarah, the receptionist, visibly stiffened when she saw me. “You… you’re back to work?” “Yes, my leave is over.” I smiled, my gaze sweeping over the new business card holder on her desk. Beneath the gilded company logo, the original “Blackwood & Reed Creative” seemed to have been redesigned, the font more ornate. The elevator doors opened again, and Serena Hayes, arm linked with Liam’s, stepped out. She wore a form-fitting magenta dress, her abdomen noticeably rounded, at least two months larger than mine. Seeing me, her fingers instinctively tightened, her nails almost digging into Liam’s suit sleeve. “Evie…” Liam’s steps faltered, his eyes flickering. “Are you feeling better?” I noticed he said “feeling” rather than “mood.” It seemed he knew about my fainting and hospitalization, but Chloe definitely hadn’t revealed the specific reason. “Thanks for your concern, much better.” I nodded, then turned my gaze to Serena. “Congratulations. Looks like you’re five months along?” A flicker of unnaturalness crossed Serena’s face. “Four months and three weeks.” She deliberately caressed her belly. “Liam talks about it all the time, says he can’t wait to be a father.” My stomach churned, whether from morning sickness or disgust, I couldn’t tell. Liam had once been just as excited for *our* child. Every time my period was late, he’d anxiously buy pregnancy tests, then mark the dates on our shared calendar. “Ms. Reed, you’re back at just the right time.” Serena suddenly raised her voice, pulling a stack of gilded invitations from her bag. “Our wedding is next month; you absolutely must attend.” She specifically drew one out and handed it to me. “You are, after all, our most important ex-wife and business partner.” Several passing colleagues immediately stopped, the air thick with awkwardness and curiosity. I took the invitation. The gilded “Liam Blackwood & Serena Hayes” lettering stung my eyes. “I’ll be there.” I smiled, tucking the invitation into my bag. “Oh, and Mr. Blackwood, don’t forget the quarterly financial report meeting at ten o’clock.” Liam frowned. “What financial report meeting?” “I sent out an email notice last week.” I feigned surprise. “As a 40% shareholder, I have the right to call an extraordinary general meeting to review the company’s recent large capital flows.” I lowered my voice. “Especially those transfers to Serena Studios.” Liam’s face instantly paled, while Serena sharply turned to look at him, her eyes full of accusation. In the conference room, I turned on the projector, displaying the financial statements on the screen. Besides Liam, the Finance Director, Robert Miller, and two other department heads were present. “According to company regulations, single expenditures over 200,000 require the signatures of all shareholders.” I pointed to the three transfers labeled “brand collaboration prepayment.” “Where are the project contracts corresponding to these three payments, totaling 1.7 million?” Liam cleared his throat. “These are for a new short-video business. The contracts are still under review by the legal department.” “Really?” I clicked open another document. “But the system shows that the client names corresponding to these three project numbers are all ‘Serena Studios,’ and business registration indicates that Ms. Serena Hayes is the legal representative of that company.” Robert Miller’s pen clattered to the floor. “Evie, we can discuss this privately.” Liam’s voice was low, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Please call me Ms. Reed, Mr. Blackwood.” I smiled. “Furthermore, I’ve noticed that over the past two months, contracts for core clients, Fine Gems Jewelry and Athena Apparel, have been transferred to a newly established subsidiary, Serena Media. And my name is not on the shareholder list of that company.” The conference room fell silent. Liam’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He hadn’t expected me to investigate so thoroughly. “This is for business adjustment.” He finally managed to squeeze out. “Serena Media focuses on new media, which better suits these clients’ needs.” “Then why wasn’t a shareholders’ meeting convened for the transfer process, as per the company bylaws?” I pressed. “And, according to financial records, the renewal contracts for these clients last year were personally negotiated by me, yet the performance commissions were routed to the subsidiary’s account?” Liam was speechless. The meeting ended on a sour note, but I knew this was just the beginning. During lunch break, I hid in a restroom stall, finally unable to suppress the dry heaves over the toilet. The morning sickness came on suddenly and violently, as if trying to turn my insides out. “Ms. Reed?” A familiar male voice came from outside the door. “Do you need help?” My heart skipped a beat. Julian Thorne? Why was he here at the company? I turned on the faucet, splashed cold water on my face, and pushed open the stall door. Julian stood by the sink, holding a stack of documents, his suit impeccably pressed, as if he were attending a formal meeting. “How are you—” “Liam Blackwood invited me to discuss Serena Media’s legal structure.” He offered me a handkerchief, his gaze lingering on my pale face for a moment before politely shifting away. “Are you okay?” I took the handkerchief; it carried a faint scent of cedarwood. “I’m fine, just a little nauseous.” “Morning sickness usually subsides after 12 weeks.” He said, seemingly casually, yet it made my fingers tremble. “My sister was the same when she was pregnant.” I looked up at him. His expression was normal, as if he had just made a passing comment. But I knew he was telling me: he knew, and he would keep it a secret. “Thank you,” I said softly. “By the way, could you help me check Serena Media’s equity structure?” “Already looked into it.” Julian pulled a sheet of paper from his briefcase. “Liam Blackwood owns 60%, Serena Hayes 40%. Registered capital is 5 million, all from Reed Arts’ working capital.” I bit my lower lip. Five million, that was almost a third of the company’s cash on hand. “Don’t discuss it here.” Julian glanced at his watch. “Liam is still waiting for me in the meeting room. Too much delay will arouse suspicion. Seven tonight, at the Cloud Cafe downstairs?” I nodded. He turned to leave, then stopped. “Ms. Reed, whatever decision you make, remember to protect yourself first.” His gaze fell on my abdomen. “And… the baby.” Watching him walk away, I leaned against the sink, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion. This battle had just begun, and I was carrying a tiny life within me. For the child, I had to win. Back in my office, I found my access card no longer worked. Sarah, the receptionist, awkwardly explained, “Ms. Reed, all permissions were reset after the system upgrade… Mr. Blackwood said you’d need to reapply after your leave.” I scoffed. Was this Liam’s counterattack? Cutting off my access to the company system? “No problem, I understand.” I said gently. “Could you help me contact the IT department? I’d like to restore my access as soon as possible.” “IT said… it requires Mr. Blackwood’s signature.” I narrowed my eyes. It seemed Liam was determined to marginalize me. Luckily, I was prepared; all important documents had already been backed up. As quitting time approached, I was tidying my desk when Serena Hayes, wearing ten-centimeter heels, walked in, holding a bubble tea. “Oh, Ms. Reed, still working late?” She leaned against the doorframe, sipping her drink. “Liam said you don’t have system access anymore? So sorry, new company, new rules, you know, gotta standardize management.” I closed my folder. “Ms. Hayes, you’ve come personally to inform me?” —Yes, she had now taken my place as Creative Director. “Actually, I’m here to invite you to my prenatal appointment the day after tomorrow.” Serena’s smile was sweet. “Liam said he wants you to see the baby’s 4D ultrasound. After all… you two tried for so long without success.” My fingers tightened. My pen scraped a line across the document. “No, I’m very busy.” I stood up, taller than her by half a head. “By the way, remind Mr. Blackwood that, according to Article 33 of the Companies Act, shareholders have the right to inspect and copy company articles of association, shareholder meeting minutes, and financial accounting reports. If he continues to obstruct me from exercising my shareholder rights, I’ll have no choice but to apply for a court order.” Serena’s smile froze. “You… what do you mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like.” I picked up my bag and headed for the door, stopping beside her. “And just a friendly reminder, pregnant women should limit bubble tea; caffeine isn’t great for fetal neurological development.” Walking out of the building, the setting sun painted the clouds blood-red. I took a deep breath and called Julian Thorne. “Can we meet earlier? I’ve found some new developments.” On the other end, Julian’s voice was steady and firm: “Give me twenty minutes. See you at the cafe.” 4 The lighting at Cloud Cafe was dimmer than I expected. I chose the corner booth, backed by a wall of books, which perfectly shielded me from the entrance. Julian Thorne was ten minutes late. When he walked in, his suit jacket was off and draped over his arm, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing well-defined forearms. I noticed he wore a simple mechanical watch on his left wrist, not a flashy brand, but one with an understated quality. “Apologies, Liam Blackwood held me up.” As he sat down, he carried a faint scent of cedarwood. “He insisted on hiring me as Serena Media’s general counsel.” My hand, stirring my coffee, paused. “Did you accept?” “Of course not.” Julian’s lips curved slightly. “Conflict of interest. However, I took the opportunity to review Serena Media’s registration documents.” He pulled a folder from his briefcase. “The situation is more complicated than we thought.” The server delivered his Americano, and we both fell silent. Once the server left, Julian opened the file, pointing to a set of numbers. “Serena Media’s registered capital is 5 million, with 3 million from Reed Arts’ working capital and 2 million from a personal loan.” He lowered his voice. “The borrower is Serena Hayes, but the guarantor is Liam Blackwood.” I frowned. “What’s the problem with that?” “The problem lies in the collateral for this loan.” Julian flipped to the next page. “It’s Reed Arts’ intellectual property—including the complete visual system you designed for Fine Gems Jewelry, as well as three pending patents.” My chest tightened. Those designs were the result of countless all-nighters my team and I pulled, every detail infused with my heart and soul. Liam actually used them to guarantee a loan for Serena? “Is that legal?” My voice was strained. “Strictly speaking, it requires the consent of all shareholders,” Julian’s gaze was sharp. “But Liam Blackwood used his position as legal representative to cut corners. The good news is, this kind of transaction can be challenged and revoked in court.” I took a deep breath. A wave of morning sickness suddenly swept over me, and I quickly drank some lemon water to suppress it. Julian subtly noticed my discomfort and discreetly pushed the tissue box closer. “Ms. Reed, if you want to fight for control of the company, there are three things you need to do now.” His voice was steady, like he was presenting an argument in court. “First, gather a complete chain of evidence; second, win the support of other shareholders; and third, and most importantly—” “Learn the rules of the game.” I finished his sentence. Julian raised an eyebrow slightly, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “Precisely. Starting tomorrow, at seven every evening, I can give you a two-hour crash course in corporate law at my office.” “Will you charge?” I asked, half-jokingly. “It’s covered by Chloe Jensen’s favor.” He chuckled, a few fine lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. “However, I suggest you take care of your health first. Excessive fatigue during the first three months of pregnancy can increase the risk of miscarriage.” My fingers trembled, the coffee spoon clinking against the cup. He knew, and he had stated it so directly. “Don’t worry, I’m a professional.” Julian seemed to read my nervousness. “A client’s privacy is safer with me than in a bank vault.” Over the next two weeks, I maintained the facade of Creative Director during the day, and attended Julian’s crash course at his firm in the evenings. He was indeed an excellent teacher. He made dry legal statutes come alive, even tailoring a special module on common legal pitfalls in the advertising industry for me. “Equity dilution, intellectual property transfer, non-compete clauses…” Julian drew a flowchart on the whiteboard. “These are all areas where founders can easily get burned.” I was diligently taking notes when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. Morning sickness combined with days of exhaustion—my body was starting to protest. Julian immediately stopped explaining and pulled a packet of soda crackers from his drawer. “Have something to eat first.” He offered the crackers and poured a glass of warm water. “My sister said these help with morning sickness.” I took the crackers, my fingertips accidentally brushing against his hand. Julian quickly withdrew his hand and turned to organize some files, but I still saw a faint blush on his ear. “Thank you,” I said, nibbling on a cracker. “By the way, tomorrow I’m going to Liam and Serena’s wedding.” Julian’s back visibly stiffened. “Are you sure you want to go?” “I have to.” I wiped cracker crumbs from the corner of my mouth. “I need to see for myself how far Liam will go for Serena.” On the wedding day, I chose a dark green velvet dress. Its loose cut perfectly concealed my slightly bulging abdomen, and the color was dignified enough not to seem disrespectful. Chloe insisted on coming with me, but I refused. “I can handle it alone.” I applied lipstick, looking at myself in the mirror. “Besides, Julian will be outside, standing by.” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “Julian Thorne? Why?” “He’s a potential legal consultant for Serena Media, so it’s perfectly normal for him to be invited.” I put down the lipstick. “We agreed that if anything unexpected happens at the wedding, I’ll send him a signal.” The wedding was held at a rose estate in the suburbs. At the entrance, a giant wedding photo of Liam and Serena smiled brightly. Next to the photo, it read “Blackwood & Hayes Union, Happiness Forever,” the date specifically chosen for three days after my divorce from Liam. “Ms. Reed is here!” Serena spotted me from afar and hurried over, dragging her wedding dress. Her abdomen was clearly prominent, at least two months larger than mine. Pregnancy had made her radiant, her cheeks so full they looked like they could be pinched. “Congratulations.” I handed her the gift box. Inside were a pair of crystal glasses—redeemed with company employee benefit points. Liam walked over, impeccably suited, his tie perfectly straight. His eyes flickered when he saw me, his gaze unconsciously falling to my waistline. I had lost a lot of weight recently; the dress was a bit loose around the waist. “Evie, you… you’ve lost weight.” His voice was strained. “Busy with work,” I smiled. “Oh, by the way, Robert Miller mentioned that next week’s shareholders’ meeting will discuss the company’s name change?” Liam’s face changed. “Robert told you?” “Reed Arts to be renamed Serena Media?” I feigned surprise. “As a 40% shareholder, I haven’t received any formal notification?” Serena linked her arm through Liam’s. “Liam, don’t talk business here. She turned to me, her smile sweet but edged with a jab. Ms. Reed, today is just about love, okay?” I nodded and was led to my seat by an usher. Most of the guests were advertising industry acquaintances and relatives of the Blackwood and Hayes families. Many cast sympathetic or curious glances my way. I sat up straight, a polite smile on my face, as if I were simply attending a regular colleague’s wedding. The ceremony began. Serena walked slowly down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father. Her wedding dress was backless, accentuating her porcelain skin. Liam stood beneath the floral arch, his gaze burning as he watched his new bride. When the officiant asked if he would take her to be his wife, his “I do” was incredibly firm. Three years ago, at our wedding, he had looked at me the same way, said the same vows. Back then, I thought it would last a lifetime. During the ring exchange, Serena suddenly burst into tears, choking out, “Liam, thank you for giving me and our baby a home.” She touched her belly. “Baby says he’s so happy to have a dad like you.” A collective gasp of emotion rippled through the guests. My nails dug deeply into my palms, but I maintained a composed smile. The baby in my womb suddenly stirred gently, as if sensing my emotions. This was the first time I felt fetal movement—a signal of a tiny life awakening within me. “Now, the groom may kiss the bride.” Liam leaned down and kissed Serena, full of deep affection. Amidst thunderous applause, I quietly excused myself and headed for the restroom.

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As final year exams approached, I paid Serena, a top scholarship student, to tutor me. But the day she was supposed to start, she showed up with her boyfriend, Julian, and insisted he join our study sessions. I politely declined, and she didn’t press the issue. However, on the very day they left my house, Julian was hit by a car, crippling him. He had to drop out of school to work. After that, Serena continued to tutor me. We both got into college, fell in love, got married, and even had a child. But on our wedding anniversary, during our intimate celebration that night… Serena poisoned my soup. I watched in horror as I coughed up blood, staining the floor crimson, little by little. “This is all what you owe Julian, Ashley. You deserve to taste utter despair!” It turned out she’d held a grudge against me for what happened all those years ago. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Serena brought Julian to my house for our tutoring session. It was our fifth wedding anniversary. The moment I stepped through the door, I saw a huge spread of dishes on the table. Serena, her hand on her stomach, smiled at me. “I have a surprise for you.” I thought the surprise meant she was pregnant. I was overjoyed beyond words. Even when I smelled a faint, strange odor from the soup Serena handed me, I didn’t think anything was wrong. But five minutes after I finished it, my stomach felt like it was being twisted by knives. “Serena, my stomach hurts so badly…” “Hurts? Good. It *should* hurt.” Only then did Serena reveal her true face, her smile utterly cruel. Cold sweat drenched me as she kicked me hard in the stomach. Even though our marriage wasn’t as sweet as other newlyweds, we had never fought. Let alone resorted to physical violence. My eyes, wide with a terrifying mix of shock and fear, landed on her. What was happening? Another dull ache ripped through my lower body. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as I struggled to beg her to take me to the hospital. But Serena locked the door, looking down at me with a cold, scrutinizing gaze. “Serena, please, save me…” I couldn’t understand why she was doing this to me. She stood with her back to the light, her face obscured, unreadable. “If you hadn’t hurt Julian all those years ago, causing him to get hit by that car, he wouldn’t have had to drop out and work, or live under his wealthy in-laws’ thumb, completely stripped of his dignity! “This is all what you owe Julian, Ashley. You deserve to taste utter despair!” She savored the words “left alone and helpless,” spitting them out with venom. Blood began to seep from the corners of my mouth. Serena continued to curse me with hateful words. I was in too much pain to think clearly, but with immense difficulty, I pieced together what led to this moment. It turned out that last night, during a work dinner, Serena had overheard someone talking about Julian being publicly humiliated by his new wife’s family. So, she came home and decided to inflict everything Julian had suffered onto me? All those years ago… All those years ago… It was just one time I refused to let her bring Julian to my tutoring session. And Serena was blaming Julian’s accident on me? She’d harbored this grudge for an entire lifetime! If that was the case, why had she married me? Why had she so calmly accepted all my kindness? I bit down hard on my lip, unable to utter another plea for help. A large pool of red spread beneath me. It felt as if my body was trying to drain, forming a river of blood. My consciousness faded, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by agony.

“Ashley, your friend is here.” It was Mom’s voice. I shot up from my desk, my hands flying to my mouth and stomach. No blood, no pain. Mom was knocking on my bedroom door, reminding me. I was wearing my old high school uniform. Yet, the painful memories lingered in my mind, refusing to dissipate. I stood there, stunned, for a long time, trying to make sense of my situation. I had been reborn. In the living room, Serena and Julian sat somewhat awkwardly on our couch. Without a doubt, today was the day Serena would bring Julian to my house for tutoring. It was also the origin of all the suffering in my previous life. Seeing me emerge, Serena practically leaped to her feet. She asked, “Ashley, Julian’s academic foundation isn’t very strong. Can he join us during our tutoring sessions?” Julian watched me cautiously from the side, his brows slightly furrowed, as if the request embarrassed him. Serena gently patted his hand, signaling him to relax. I took in all these small gestures. Facing their hopeful gaze, I shook my head gently. “No.” In my previous life, that’s what happened: I refused Serena, and she started to hate me. Julian had transferred to our school in his senior year. He seemed clean-cut and refined. The first time he was introduced to the class, Serena’s eyes were drawn to him. Julian’s family wasn’t well-off either; he only had a disabled father. Perhaps it was a mutual affinity between two struggling souls, but Serena and Julian quickly became close. Julian, often struggling with his studies, would bring test papers covered in red marks and timidly sit next to Serena, asking, “Serena, could I ask you a question?” Serena would always take his papers and patiently explain the solutions, completely devoid of the impatience she showed when tutoring me. Once, Julian was upset because he placed last in physics. Serena pushed Julian’s deskmate aside, quietly sitting by him, tirelessly comforting him. By evening study hall, a thick packet of compiled basic knowledge points appeared on Julian’s desk. Classmates often said Serena and Julian were a perfect match, making my presence seem out of place. But my refusal had nothing to do with that. It was because three days before Serena brought Julian to my house, I accidentally overheard Julian talking to his friend in the restroom. “Julian, Serena seems really into you. Are you two dating?” Julian scoffed, his tone mocking. “Look how poor she is. Do I look like I’m tired of living a good life? She’s just a tool to help me with my studies.” “Nice, Julian. Ashley has to pay Serena to tutor him.” “Tsk, with Ashley’s brain, he won’t learn a damn thing. Just wait, I’ll completely steal Serena away from him.” Hearing those words, I trembled with anger in the restroom stall. At the time, Serena was so devoted to Julian every day, and it was senior year. I was afraid of upsetting her, so I never told her. I just subtly suggested that Serena keep her distance from Julian. That’s why when Serena asked if Julian could join our study sessions at my house, I immediately said no. Julian felt humiliated, ran out of my house, and didn’t see the traffic light intersection, resulting in one of his legs being crippled. Serena, her eyes red with fury, blamed me, secretly weaving a web of deceit around me. Everything I did had turned into self-serving martyrdom, costing me my entire youth and even my life. Now, I understood a crucial truth: let go of the urge to help, and respect others’ destinies.

Seeing my refusal, Serena became agitated. “Tutoring just you is one thing, but adding Julian to study together, why is that so impossible? “Ashley, this is a crucial stage for our studies. Can’t you be less selfish?” She was fuming, glaring at me, making me doubt my judgment of her all those years ago. In high school, Serena was brilliant and proud, but so poor she barely had enough to eat. Even though I hated studying, I paid her a high tutoring fee to help me with my lessons. It was all to protect her pride and self-esteem. After graduation, I brought her to my dad’s company for an internship, pulling strings to get her a project manager position. After we married, I completely handed the company over to her to manage. But despite everything I did, Serena still wanted me dead. How could I possibly repeat those mistakes now? At that moment, Julian cautiously looked up at me, feigning vulnerability. “Ashley, if I don’t get into college, my dad will force me to work. “I really want to keep studying. Could you please just save my life? I promise to repay you for the rest of my life.” Serena roared, “Do you want Julian to be practically driven to his death before you’re satisfied?” I quickly took a few steps back, putting distance between us, as if I feared catching something unclean. “What are you even saying? Your life is far too precious for me to bear such a burden.” I pulled out my phone and, right in front of them, SnapChatted Serena a thousand dollars. Serena’s SnapChat was still pinned at the top of my contacts. So annoying. “Your tutoring fee for this month is transferred. You don’t need to come anymore. “Spend the rest of your time focusing on tutoring your friend Julian. I won’t interfere.” Julian’s face lit up with joy, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Serena. But Serena didn’t respond to Julian. She watched my actions, her brows furrowed. She stared intently at me, her eyes filled with disbelief. “What did you say? You don’t want me to come anymore?” I was afraid she hadn’t understood, so I repeated myself. “Serena, you don’t need to come to my house to tutor me anymore. Julian needs your help more now, or he might not get into college and it’ll be the end of him.” “But… I’ve been tutoring you for two years. Aren’t you worried you’ll suddenly fail your exams?” Serena’s voice trembled slightly. “That’s none of your concern. You can go now.” In my previous life, even after Serena tutored me, I still ended up studying abroad just to pad my resume. My grades didn’t improve, and I was stuck with the label of having crippled Julian. Looking back, I was a total chump. Serena’s hands trembled, her fingertips white as she clenched them, and she gritted her teeth. “Fine, Ashley. Don’t you dare regret this!” With that, she angrily stormed off with Julian.

From that day on, Serena began to study with Julian even more conspicuously. Their discussions were often loud; I could hear them even with headphones on. I had also started studying seriously, though I was still in the phase of grasping basic concepts. Julian seemed unable to stand seeing me focus. He came over, waving a textbook where Serena had just highlighted key points, trying to provoke me. “Oh, Ashley’s finally studying, too? How’s it going, just trying to figure it out on your own? “I have Serena’s notes here with all the important bits highlighted. I could lend them to you for reference.” He waved the book around, a sneer on his face. “Oh, I apologize. I forgot. Serena isn’t willing to teach you anymore. “So, I guess I can’t lend you these materials for now.” Julian’s voice was sharp and grating, attracting the attention of many classmates, who glanced over at me. Even Serena, who usually paid no mind to such things, cast a cold look my way. I propped my chin on my hand, asking him with amusement, “Do you have this much time to worry about how others study? Why don’t you check your own single-digit physics score first?” Julian’s face flushed red, embarrassed and furious. Serena walked over and tapped my desk. “Care to step outside and talk?” Before I could refuse, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the classroom. Serena led me to the hallway, her lips pressed into a thin line. “If you’re willing to accept Julian, I can continue to tutor you.” Since I fired Serena, I heard she’d started working part-time in the cafeteria again. It seemed she was short on cash and was trying to get money from me again. She really thought I was a big idiot. “No, thanks.” I refused without hesitation. Serena’s eyes flared with anger. She grabbed my shoulders, her grip tight, and spat, “Things were fine before, weren’t they? I’ve tutored you for three years. Or is it because you mind Julian and I are too close? “Ashley, are you jealous, or are you just playing hard to get?” Quite a few students had gathered, watching Serena’s outburst, whispering and pointing at us. Serena was a girl, so I couldn’t just shake her off. I could only try to reason with her. “I genuinely don’t need you anymore. Just let go!” Serena’s eyes were fixed on me, forcing me to give her the answer she wanted. That obsessive gaze reminded me of the Serena who had poisoned me and kicked my stomach in my previous life. Sure enough, the seeds of extreme violence were already evident then. But back then, I saw her through rose-tinted glasses, and all her flaws were overlooked. Just then, someone came over and tapped Serena’s shoulder. “Hey, Serena, the ‘Academic Star,’ if someone says they don’t need your tutoring anymore, isn’t it kind of pathetic to keep hounding them for money?” I looked over, stunned. It was Blair, my deskmate, known for being a cold beauty.

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My wife was rushed to the emergency room from a hotel late at night. The doctor said it was a corpus luteum rupture, caused by excessively strenuous sexual activity. I lost my mind, hunting for the man responsible. It turned out to be Ryan, my closest friend, someone I trusted with my life. Fine. Since your love runs so deep, I’ll personally send you both straight to hell. At 2 AM, an ambulance wailed to a halt outside the Red Pillow Hotel. Ten minutes later, a woman was carried out on a stretcher. Her face and upper body were covered by a bath towel, and she was curled up, clearly in immense pain. Soon after, videos from various angles started circulating on TikTok. When I first scrolled past it, I was in full spectator mode, even joking in the comments that I’d heard of guys getting worn out, but never a woman getting *damaged* like that. Until I inadvertently saw the bracelet on the woman’s dangling wrist – identical to the one I’d given my wife for our fifth anniversary just a short while ago. My heart lurched, a cold dread seizing me like a gun pressed to my back. No, it couldn’t be. Impossible. Scarlett was supposedly away on a business trip to Seattle these past few days. I’d even booked her flight ticket myself. It’s just a bracelet, right? Even if it’s a niche, hard-to-find design, it’s not impossible for someone else to have it. And women with similar figures are common. I tried to reassure myself, but at the same time, I frantically searched for videos from other angles. Most were blurry. I scrolled for ages, finding only one, taken from close up, that clearly showed her hand. I slowed the playback to the absolute minimum, examining it frame by frame. That familiar, diamond-studded white manicure, glinting under the lights, stabbed at my eyes. It was her. Scarlett. My wife of three years, was cheating on me. 2 In that instant, I felt all the blood rush to my head. My hand, clutching the phone, trembled uncontrollably. A searing mix of humiliation and fury burned in my chest, a dull ache that made it hard to breathe. Even though I’d scoured every video, I hadn’t seen any suspicious male figure. But Scarlett’s affair was an undeniable fact. Otherwise, how could she explain being carried out of a hotel, disheveled and bare-legged, claiming she was on a business trip? I didn’t even dare to imagine why she needed an ambulance. The comments section was already ablaze with every insulting possibility. I grabbed a jacket, ran downstairs, got in my car, and drove straight to the hospital emergency room. The attending nurse gave me a complex look when I identified myself as Scarlett’s husband. It was a mix of embarrassment and pity, which made the rage I’d been suppressing flare up again. She pointed to a room at the end of the hallway, saying Scarlett was on an IV drip and was now out of danger. “What’s wrong with her?” Even now, pathetically, a sliver of worry still gnawed at me. But the next second, that sliver of worry turned into a gallon of fuel poured onto my burning anger. “Corpus luteum rupture.” The nurse paused, looked at me, and then added, “It was caused by excessively strenuous sexual activity.” My mind buzzed. It felt like a thousand tiny voices were mocking me. Excessively strenuous sexual activity… I thought of my wife’s usual cold demeanor at home and felt utterly ridiculous and pathetic. In our three years of marriage, Scarlett had always been indifferent to sex, never initiating. Twice out of three times, she’d make excuses to avoid intimacy. Even when she agreed, she’d just lie there in the dark room after I’d turned off the lights, passively going through the motions. I’d always thought she was naturally reserved, unable to let loose. Turns out, she just couldn’t let loose *with me*. With another man, she could be so passionate it led to a corpus luteum rupture… I didn’t go into the room. I turned and left the hospital. I lit a cigarette, taking deep drags. The earlier blaze of fury now seemed to cool into a chilling resolve. It was hard to accept, but it had happened. I had to face it. At the very least, I needed to know who that man was. 3 The hotel refused to provide any guest’s private information, citing customer privacy. But the front desk did confirm that Scarlett had checked in with a man, and it was that man who called the ambulance after the “incident.” However, after Scarlett was taken away on the stretcher, the man had hurriedly checked out and slipped away through a side entrance. Since the hotel couldn’t provide any useful information, I had no choice but to go home for now. By then, the sky was already faintly light. I collapsed, exhausted, onto the couch. I instinctively grabbed the framed wedding photo next to me and tossed it into the trash can. This marriage? It was over. No man on earth could endure this kind of humiliation and continue living as if nothing happened. But before the divorce, some debts needed to be settled. I’d always believed I treated her well, and her family, too, had benefited greatly from my help. I never imagined this was how she’d repay me. If that’s the case, then she shouldn’t blame me for being ruthless. Scarlett was my college sweetheart. Her family came from a modest, blue-collar background, and she had a deadbeat younger brother. The first time I visited her home, my future mother-in-law immediately hit me with a demand for a hefty $300,000 settlement. I hesitated for a moment, not refusing outright, but her mother’s face immediately fell. She told me to get lost. She boasted that Scarlett was highly educated and beautiful, with suitors lined up around the block, so she had no trouble finding a husband. If I was stingy with the money, I shouldn’t waste her daughter’s time. I considered myself a good catch. I owned my house and car outright. My parents worked for the government, and I was their only child. After college, I joined my Uncle Arthur’s company. I was doing well, and my future looked bright. I thought I’d be the ideal son-in-law in her mother’s eyes, but I was wrong… My parents, hearing about her mother’s attitude, urged me to break up with her. They said a woman like that would be endless trouble. But Scarlett cried and chased me to my doorstep, apologizing profusely for her mother. She said if we really broke up, her mother would force her to marry an almost fifty-year-old man from their small town. Three days later, I returned to her house with $300,000 cash in a briefcase, and the marriage was set. But that $300,000 was just the beginning. From then on, my mother-in-law and Caleb would ask for money every other week, coming up with endless excuses: business ventures, home renovations, technical training. They called it borrowing, but they never paid it back. Over three years, they took nearly two hundred thousand dollars from me. Caleb was irresponsible, gambling, partying, and getting into all sorts of trouble. Every few days, he’d cause a scene, and I’d be the one cleaning up his messes. I’d had enough a long time ago. But every time I saw Scarlett’s tear-reddened eyes pleading with me, I couldn’t bring myself to abandon them. Now that I was getting a divorce, I could finally shake off this rotten burden. Scarlett married me with nothing, not even a job – I was the one who arranged that for her. Thinking back, Scarlett really just played me for everything. Then she can leave with nothing. I immediately contacted a lawyer to draft divorce papers. I also reached out to friends, paying them to help delete those videos. I couldn’t afford that kind of public humiliation. Just as I finished all this, Scarlett suddenly returned. 4 Her face was pale, her eyes darted nervously, and she looked utterly weak, practically leaning against the wall as she entered. She must have heard from the nurse that I’d been to the hospital, realizing she couldn’t hide it any longer. She half-knelt before the sofa, clutching my arm and sobbing. It was the same pitiful act. But now, I just felt disgusted. I roughly shook off her hand, sat up straight, and forced myself to control the urge to strike her. Scarlett swayed, then fell to the floor. She winced, clutching her lower abdomen, and gasped in pain. That motion completely ignited my fury. “Stomach hurts, huh? Must have been quite a workout.” “Scarlett, you truly are beyond belief.” “Tell me, who is that man, and how long has this been going on?” My fists were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. Scarlett, like a startled rabbit, shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face, speaking incoherently. “No, no, it was just this once, the very first time, Liam, you have to believe me…” “I just… I lost my head for a moment, Liam, I know I messed up, it will never happen again…” She sobbed, begging for my forgiveness, but she wouldn’t utter his name. Such deep affection, apparently. I remembered in college, the first time I ever got into a fight was because some petty thug flirted with Scarlett right in front of me. That time, I put the guy in the hospital and it cost me five thousand dollars. Scarlett was trembling with fear back then. I put my arm around her and said, “If anyone ever touches you again, I’ll chop off their hands.” It was just the wild talk of a hot-headed youth. The man I was now was no longer so impulsive. But seeing Scarlett’s terrified, nervous expression, it was as if she genuinely feared I’d go and chop off her lover’s hands. How ridiculous. When I fought that thug for her back then, she was hiding far away. Now, she’s learned to protect another man. I thought of how I’d argued so fiercely with my parents to marry her. Telling them she was gentle and virtuous, pure and sweet, that she’d be a wonderful wife and daughter-in-law. All those words now felt like slaps across my face. “Let’s get a divorce.” My head throbbed. I didn’t want to drag this out any longer. I stood up, dropped the words, and started to leave. I would just consider these past few years wasted. Whether it was her first time cheating or her tenth, it made no difference to me. Scarlett froze, then scrambled to her feet, stumbling forward to hug my leg. “No, please don’t, I know I messed up, just this once, please forgive me…” “Liam, you can’t let our child grow up without a father…” Scarlett’s words struck me like a thunderclap. “What child?” My hands trembled almost imperceptibly. Scarlett’s eyes lit up, as if she’d found a lifeline. “Liam, it’s our baby, I’m pregnant.” “Last night, last night I only found out after my ultrasound…” “I was going to wait for a happier moment to tell you.” “Liam, you can’t abandon our baby and me…” Scarlett’s voice rang in my ears, but it slowly faded away. 5 “How many months?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Just one month.” Scarlett smiled ingratiatingly, coming closer to put her arms around my neck. “Liam, from now on, our family of three will live happily together, okay?” “Mom and Dad will be so happy when they hear they’re going to be grandparents.” Yes, they had been hoping for a grandchild since we got married, but… “Liam, what’s wrong?” Scarlett noticed my strange behavior and asked nervously. “Nothing.” I snapped back to reality, subtly pushing her away. “Why are you discharged already? Your body isn’t fully recovered, is it?” At that, Scarlett’s eyes reddened again. She said the doctor didn’t allow it, but she snuck out herself. She knew I was angry and wanted to explain face-to-face. As she said this, Scarlett put on that fragile, pitiful act again, as if *I* were the one at fault. “Since you’re pregnant, focus on recovering first.” “We’ll discuss everything else after you’re discharged.” Perhaps sensing a hint of compromise in my words, she seemed to visibly relax, nodding at me through her tears. I avoided her gaze, personally drove her back to the hospital, and saw the pregnancy test report. She was indeed pregnant. Watching her being ordered by the doctor to lie down for an IV, I made an excuse about work and left. Walking out of the hospital, I could no longer contain the burning rage. I slammed my fist against a tree trunk. Those despicable bastards! Scarlett was pregnant, true, but the child wasn’t mine. In these past few years of marriage, I always felt I wasn’t ready to be a father, and Scarlett hadn’t been enthusiastic about having children either. Out of consideration for her body, I’d secretly gotten male birth control pills from the doctor. I hadn’t told anyone about this. I never thought Scarlett would not only cheat on me but also try to pass off another man’s child as mine. She claimed it was “just this once,” but she was already pregnant! Initially, I had thought of just divorcing her, a clean break. But now, it seemed, I needed a long-term plan. Every humiliation I had suffered, I would demand repayment for, every single one. Back home, I retrieved Scarlett’s phone from under a throw pillow. Earlier, she had been too weak and anxious, too focused on clinging to me, to notice me subtly slipping her phone into the sofa cushion. When I hurried her out, she completely forgot about it. I knew Scarlett’s phone password. Her contact list and chat history showed nothing suspicious. But when I tried to switch accounts, I found she had indeed hidden a secondary account. After logging in with a text verification code, there was only one person in her secondary account’s friend list. Clicking into that person’s social media, in countless shared photos, Scarlett was nestled in his arms, smiling sweetly and charmingly. I stared at that man’s face for a long time, feeling as if ice water had been poured over my entire body. It was him, after all.

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My wife was raped on her way home last night. She said there were two attackers. But the DNA results showed three men’s profiles inside her. And I hadn’t been with her that night. The phone rang, jolting me awake. A glance at the digital wall clock in the living room showed it was almost one in the morning. Eleanor wasn’t home yet. The unknown number kept ringing relentlessly. In the dead silence of the night, the ringtone ripped through the air, jarring and shrill. My heart pounded with an unsettling dread as I answered. “Hello, this is Detective Miller from the local police department, badge number 723xxx. Am I speaking to Mr. Marcus Thorne, Eleanor Thorne’s husband?” “Yes.” “Is this a good time to talk? Are you alone?” “Yes, it is.” His voice was steady, calm: “I regret to inform you that your wife, Eleanor Thorne, was involved in an assault case within our jurisdiction. She is currently not in life-threatening danger, but we require a family member to come in and cooperate with the investigation.” “Alright.” “Please proceed immediately to the third-floor emergency intake at City General Hospital. We’ve arranged for a female officer to be waiting for you there, and she will explain the situation in detail when you arrive.” “Please do not disclose this information to anyone else for now, to avoid causing your wife further emotional distress. Thank you!” I tried to ask for more specific information, but Detective Miller dodged my questions, only stressing that I should get to the hospital’s designated spot as quickly as possible. Everything else, he said, would be discussed in person. I wanted to press further, but the call was disconnected. I tried to call back, but it was busy. My heart hammered, thumping so violently it felt like it would burst out of my chest. A profound sense of dread, a terrible premonition, rose from deep within me. 2 I rushed to the hospital in a panic. After giving my name, a man in his early thirties, a detective, approached me before I could even see Eleanor. “I’m Detective Miller, the officer who called you earlier.” I fought to control my anxiety, trying to keep my voice steady: “How is my wife now?” “Please don’t worry, your wife is not in any life-threatening danger. One of my female colleagues is with her in the lounge right now.” “Was she…?” I gestured, struggling to get the words out. Detective Miller nodded, motioning for me to follow him down the corridor: “Yes, I’m sorry to say your wife was assaulted.” “Where? When? Do you have any leads?” My voice trembled uncontrollably, a million questions flooding my mind. “We’ve only just started the investigation into the specific details. Your wife’s examination is complete. She just asked to see you, please follow me.” He gently pushed the door open. Eleanor was huddled in the corner of the sofa, wrapped in a beige blanket, her entire body, almost even her hair, hidden. Only her vacant eyes were visible, staring blankly at some unseen stain on the ceiling. Occasionally, an almost imperceptible, uncontrollable tremor would ripple through the blanket. She was shaking with fear. I wanted to go and hold her, but the female officer taking her statement gave me a look, signaling me to stand to the side. The female officer’s voice was soft: “Can you describe it again? About… the person who assaulted you.” Eleanor sniffled, as if she was crying. The officer asked: “How many people? You said earlier you felt it was three, is that right?” Eleanor’s head emerged from the blanket. Her eyes were bruised, her lips also injured, cracked and purple. She moved them a few times before squeezing out a whisper, barely audible: “It’s… not…” My heart tightened. “Not… it was two… yes, it was two people…” I leaned against the cold wall, my nails digging hard into my palms. A sharp pain shot through my chest, and I almost lost my footing. So, it was two people. I couldn’t bear to imagine the suffering my beloved wife, the woman I cherished, had endured. Eleanor saw me, stretched out her hands towards me, and burst into tears: “Marcus… I’m so sorry…” I immediately rushed to embrace her, gently soothing her: “Shhh… there’s nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault.” Just then, a nurse came in, “Emergency contraception. Please have the patient take this.” Eleanor became agitated again. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of the pill box, and she reacted like a cornered cat: “Poison! I won’t take it, I won’t, I won’t… I won’t!” I confirmed the information with the nurse: “This medication is effective if taken within 24 hours, correct?” “Yes.” I considered for a moment: “Then let’s not give it to her for now. I’ll figure out how to get her to take it tomorrow.” Hearing that she wouldn’t have to take the medication, Eleanor’s emotions calmed. As I gently and rhythmically patted her back, she gradually drifted off to sleep. After the medical staff settled her into a private room, I felt utterly exhausted. But Detective Miller’s questions came quickly, with an urgency to get to the bottom of things. “What time did you get off work?” “Six o’clock.” “What time did you get home?” “Around ten-thirty.” “Oh? Why so late?” “I had plans to play high-stakes poker with some friends I hadn’t seen in a while. I was actually going to be home even later, but I was a bit worried about my wife, so I left earlier than planned.” “Just out of curiosity, what kind of stakes were you playing for?” I was a little surprised the detective asked that, but I answered honestly: “A thousand a hand.” Detective Miller raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t trying to show off, but everyone there was a big name in local business. Playing for anything less would have been embarrassing. At the time, I was worried my digital wallet wouldn’t have enough, so I even put my Audi car keys up on the poker table as collateral. My Audi was just one of my cars; I had several much more expensive ones in the garage. But I always preferred the Audi for its understated luxury—it perfectly matched my vibe. “Between getting off work and getting home, did you call your wife?” I checked my call log. Eleanor had called me at five-thirty. She told me she was eating dinner out and that I didn’t need to worry about her. At eight-thirty, I called her. She said she was in a bad mood and wanted to talk with her friends a bit longer before coming home. Detective Miller mused: “When you got home that night and your wife wasn’t back, you didn’t contact her—only that call at eight-thirty. You weren’t worried?” I felt a surge of anger. Was he treating me like a suspect? Eleanor had been in a bad mood recently and often didn’t come home until eleven or midnight. If I asked too many questions, she’d blow up on the phone. Yes, I’m a traditional man. I’d rather deal with tears than a full-blown meltdown. Besides, there are cameras everywhere. The city is pretty safe. I genuinely hadn’t been too worried. Later, I was just too tired and drifted off to sleep. I explained all this to him. Then I added: “My wife isn’t the type to bring negative emotions home.” “Between ten-thirty and one in the morning, can anyone confirm you were home?” I thought for a moment, “The building security guard. I gave him a cigarette when I came home, and I didn’t leave again after that. He should remember.” “How is your marriage?” “It’s good. All our friends and family know how much I dote on my wife. Every holiday, birthday, or anniversary, I buy her either designer bags or high-end jewelry. I’ve never missed one.” Detective Miller remained noncommittal, continuing: “What about your intimacy during this period? Your frequency of marital relations?” I considered: “About two or three times a week, typically.” Detective Miller seemed unconvinced. His gaze fixed on me like a hook: “When was the last time you were intimate?” I thought for a moment: “This past Wednesday.” “Just to confirm again, on the day of the incident, you were not intimate?” “That’s correct.” “I apologize, but cases involving sexual assault require us to ask very detailed questions. Please understand.” I nodded. He turned to his colleague, speaking in a low voice: “Focus on her social circles, anyone with a history of sexual offenses, and any acquaintances who might have had issues with either the husband or wife…” The questioning paused there for the moment. The next afternoon, the two detectives from yesterday returned. My wife suddenly claimed her whole body had been aching severely, especially her head. She might have remembered incorrectly, she said. There might have been three attackers. Honestly, whether the number was three or two, it was the same pain to me. I wasn’t overly concerned with the number; I just wanted her to get better quickly. Detective Miller narrowed his eyes: “Ms. Thorne, please try to think carefully again, how many people were there exactly?” Then he said they had reviewed the surveillance footage. There were indeed two attackers, not a third. I interjected: “Are you certain it was two people?” “The surveillance is quite clear. It distinctly shows two individuals from start to finish.” “However, we can’t rule out other accomplices.” “Ms. Thorne, before or after this incident, do you have any other memories of being assaulted?” The forensic results showed three different DNA profiles had been found inside my wife. Unfortunately, these three DNA samples likely had no prior criminal records, so they didn’t match any information in the database. The female officer gently asked my wife: “Could you try to recall again, whether it was two or three people, what were their physical characteristics?” Eleanor bit her lip, quickly glanced at me, and looked on the verge of tears. She quietly asked: “Are you sure there were three… DNA profiles?” The female officer nodded: “Yes. Have you remembered anything?” Eleanor shook her head: “My head still hurts, I can’t quite remember.” The female officer reassured her: “That’s okay, take your time.” I stood nearby, making a huge decision: “Eleanor, don’t worry, don’t consider me. Just say whatever comes to mind.” Eleanor looked at me, her eyes seemingly filled with tears. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, as if she, too, had made up her mind: “I remembered wrong before. It must have been just two people.” But then, what about the third DNA? Everyone’s gaze was now fixed on Eleanor. Detective Miller’s sharp eyes bore into her. “Is there anything you need to tell us?” Eleanor began: “The third DNA… it must be my lover’s.” My whole body trembled violently. I looked at her in disbelief. Her profile was stiff, her eyes vacant, filled with a desperate, almost martyred look. “I… I cheated. It’s been going on for a while.” My wife continued, her voice flat, as if reading someone else’s script, “That afternoon, I made an excuse to go out, met him, and we were intimate. Then he left.” “Afterward, I felt incredibly tired and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, it was already eleven at night. I quickly got dressed to go home, but on the way, I… that happened.” My heart lurched, a mix of emotions churning within me. Detective Miller’s gaze was piercing: “Why didn’t you tell us this yesterday?” Eleanor frowned, a hint of embarrassment on her face: “I’m a woman, after all. How could I possibly talk about something like that?” “What’s your lover’s name?” Eleanor shook her head: “I don’t want to say.” Detective Miller’s expression became serious: “This case involves assault, which is a criminal offense. Your lover’s name is not optional for you to disclose.” Eleanor bit her lip, still insisting that her lover had nothing to do with the incident and there was no need to involve him. When pressured further, she finally broke down in tears: “My husband hasn’t even said anything, why are you digging so deep?!” “It’s already bad enough that this happened to me. Are you trying to force me to die?” “Your priority should be to catch those two rapists quickly!” Detective Miller’s sharp eyes swept over Eleanor: “We also want to apprehend the suspects as soon as possible. But Ms. Thorne, you are lying.” 3 My heart skipped a beat. Detective Miller stood up and signaled for me to step outside: “In cases involving assault, female victims often feel guilty or ashamed towards their husbands and find it difficult to speak freely in front of them.” “We just want to understand what happened. Please understand.” I nodded in agreement. My wife had been in there for half an hour now and still hadn’t come out. Things seemed to have spiraled completely out of control, heading in a direction I never could have predicted. She had actually admitted to having an affair in front of the police. That was something I hadn’t expected. Yes, it wasn’t that I hadn’t suspected her of cheating. Eleanor loved getting manicures. Years ago, I first noticed her at the company cafeteria. She stretched out a pair of hands as delicate as spring onions. Her nails were pale pink, long, and each one adorned with a tiny pink bunny. They were hands that looked tempting, desirable. Later, I pursued her, we got engaged, married, and she always maintained her exquisite manicures. She would change the style every now and then, until… one morning, three months ago. I suddenly noticed that all her long nails had been cut short overnight. “Why did you cut off your beautiful nails?” “I suddenly felt that long nails weren’t actually very pretty, so I just didn’t want them anymore.” She said calmly. She kept her head down, pretending to read a book, but her gaze wasn’t actually moving across the pages. She just mechanically turned the page every once in a while. I stared at her intently, my gut telling me she was lying. Because Eleanor was the kind of woman who was very uninhibited in bed. Every time she reached the peak of emotion, her hands would grip my back tightly. Her nails would involuntarily scratch my back, leaving vivid red marks. I don’t know why, but when I saw she had cut her nails, my first thought was: She’s worried that the nail marks she leaves on a man will be discovered by another woman… Just as my thoughts raced like a late-night subway, flying through unfamiliar tunnels without stopping at a single station, Detective Miller and Officer Davies emerged. 4 Detective Miller said to me: “Your wife took the emergency contraception after my colleague convinced her. Don’t worry.” I nodded and thanked him. “Yesterday afternoon, your wife went to a private fertility clinic for treatment. Did you know about this?” I was surprised: “No, I really didn’t.” Officer Davies spoke, lowering her voice: “Your wife told me that one of her fallopian tubes is clear, but the other is blocked. Theoretically, having one clear tube shouldn’t affect pregnancy.” “However, after examination, she consistently ovulates from the blocked side, so her chances of pregnancy are much lower than average.” I stammered: “I had no idea when she went to the clinic for tests…” Officer Davies’s tone held a hint of reproach: “She’s been going to the clinic every month to monitor ovulation for over half a year. That’s why communication is so important between spouses. With everything that’s happened, you need to be even more understanding of your wife.” “Don’t worry about not having children. With active treatment, it will happen. Don’t put too much psychological pressure on yourselves.” “Also, regarding this incident, please don’t press her for details, to avoid causing her an emotional breakdown. Seeing a therapist might also be beneficial if necessary.” Despite this, I couldn’t help but ask: “That night… have you determined how many people were involved? When can they be apprehended?” Detective Miller said: “Our forensics team worked through the night, reviewing the surveillance footage. It was indeed two people. However, the image isn’t very clear because both of them were wearing masks, hats, and glasses.” “The forensics team is still working overtime to process the images, to see if they can enhance them for a clearer picture.” I was still puzzled: “If my wife genuinely didn’t meet her lover yesterday, then why was there a third person’s DNA inside her?” “Well…” Officer Davies seemed a bit embarrassed. She paused before saying, “Your wife stated that she privately gave the doctor at the private fertility clinic a substantial tip and specifically chose the highest quality sperm from their bank for artificial insemination. She was afraid that if she couldn’t get pregnant again, you would propose divorce, and she couldn’t bear the thought of your marriage ending.” I was stunned: “No… is that true?” “We went to the fertility clinic this morning to inquire about the situation, and it largely aligns with your wife’s account.” I blurted out: “How… how could she be so foolish?!” “Yes,” Officer Davies looked at me sympathetically, “I was just admonishing her, asking how she could be so misguided. A child is the crystallization of a couple’s love. A child conceived in such a strange way would not only fail to help a marriage but would also destroy trust between spouses.” As Officer Davies left, she continued to urge me, telling us as a couple to communicate more. Returning to the hospital room, there was a deathly silence. My wife, that foolish woman, had pulled the blanket over her head, completely covering it. I sneered. She must be utterly ashamed of her stupid actions, unable to even face herself, right? Not just foolish, but also cheap. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her. And she expected me to take care of her? I’m no saint. I have emotions too. Hiring a private nurse for her was the most I could do. Finally, I got home, pulled out a phone registered under my brother-in-law’s name, and dialed a number: “Let’s meet up, by the South River bridge.” Reflexively, a wave of disgust churned within me. Yes, to fully control the situation, I had deliberately arranged to meet my wife’s lover.

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The day my mother, against all odds, announced she was having a second child with my much younger stepfather. My entire family ganged up, forcing me to sign disownment papers. I just smiled, took the pen, signed, and then dialed my inheritance lawyer. “Could you please check if my biological father’s billion-dollar inheritance is completely out of reach for this group of people?” I had always been the sole focus of my family, growing up as an only child in New York. The best education, the brightest future. Until the day I graduated. My mother called, summoning me home. “Aria, hurry back! Mom has some wonderful news to share with you!” I arrived home to find my stepfather instructing a maid to clear out my room. Mom was bubbling with excitement, walking a little awkwardly. She looked… clumsy. “Aria, come sit down! Mom has something to tell you: you’re going to have a little brother! Aren’t you happy?” I lowered my eyes, glancing at her slightly bulging abdomen. “Mom, you’re 58 this year, not 38.” “Aria, I know,” my mom said, blushing slightly as she stroked her belly, then looked at my stepfather, “But Frank is still young, and he wants to have a child with me.” “Are you seriously having a baby without consulting your oldest child?” My stepfather overheard and yelled, his voice rough. “What’s it to you? You never liked me anyway! Never liked this family!” I ignored him. I continued to my mother, “What were you thinking?” Mom replied, “Frank got a promotion; he’s now the Sales Department Manager.” “He can afford a child, and this one’s a boy.” “You know, your mom doesn’t really care about gender, but boys are so much easier; they practically raise themselves. He won’t be any trouble for his big sister, I promise.” “You’ll always be Mom’s little princess, and when your brother is born, he’ll protect you too!” Mom blinked at me, a wide smile on her face. “Mom, I wasn’t worried about any of that. I’m worried about your health.” My mother’s face had changed since she’d gotten older; there was a subtle, unsettling strangeness I couldn’t quite place. I’d always been independent, living in a boarding school since elementary. I attributed this strangeness to the limited time we spent together. Now, with her second pregnancy, a peculiar feeling stirred within me. But I was eighteen. I figured I just had to accept it; adults aren’t supposed to act so recklessly. I felt a wave of exhaustion. “Mom, if you’ve thought it through, that’s fine. I’m going to rest; the train ride was pretty tiring.” I pushed open my bedroom door, only to find it had already been converted into a nursery. I turned to my mom, who cringed, explaining apologetically, “Aria, you don’t come back often, so Frank and I just…” “Mom, this is my father’s house, not Frank’s.” My stepfather slammed the door and stormed out. “So, where do I sleep?” I stood in the living room, my luggage still in hand, demanding an answer. Mom plastered on a smile, “How about you rest in the living room for a bit?” I sighed, helpless. Mom quickly started tidying the living room. A worn stuffed animal lay carelessly discarded at her feet. I picked it up. It was a doll Mom had specially made for me when I was a child. Inside, there was a tiny voice recorder with my father’s voice. I looked at the mess around me. “Mom, forget it. I’ll stay at a hotel.” Mom froze for a moment, but then forced another smile. “Aria, I’m so sorry.” “Mom, you have your own life. Just don’t regret it.” “Please, can you not throw away my things? I’ll find someone to pick them up.” “Of course, Aria. Mom will keep everything safe for you.” I took a deep breath. I tried to calm myself. “So, what’s your due date? And you plan to show up at my engagement party like this, right?” 2 My fiancé, Liam, and I had been together all through college, four years. Aside from being a bit of a momma’s boy, he was decent. His family was well-off. He was ambitious and genuinely loved me. The only issue was his mother, who always thought my family situation was “too complicated.” His parents arrived early. Dressed impeccably, exuding an air of sophistication. But their posture was overtly arrogant. My mom arrived much later, clad in an oversized pink maternity dress. My stepfather was dressed like he’d just stepped out of a cheesy haircut commercial. My future mother-in-law’s face instantly hardened. At least fifty relatives were present. They all saw my mom’s huge belly. First, staring at my mother like she was a circus freak, then turning those same judgmental eyes on me. My future mother-in-law spoke, “Um, Aria, have these two perhaps come to the wrong place?” I lowered my head. “Mrs. Albright, this is my mother, and this is my stepfather.” My mother, oblivious to my embarrassment, sat down and picked up a menu. “You must be Liam’s mother. Hello, hello!” Mrs. Albright’s eyes were fixed on Mom’s belly; she looked like she had a hundred things to say but held them back. My mom, however, was openly sharing, “Almost due. It’s a boy.” Mrs. Albright’s lips twitched. “Well, congratulations then.” I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. I sat between my stepfather and my mother. Gritting my teeth, I whispered, “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” Mom replied, “You’re Mom’s little princess! How could your mother not be here on such an important day as your engagement?” “Besides, your unborn little brother has to be here to congratulate you too!” She stroked her belly, smiling blissfully. “Honey, don’t you think our family is double blessed?” My stepfather looked at Mom, forcing a smile. Mrs. Albright turned to me. “Aria, why don’t you come with me to check on the food?” I stood in the hallway, watching Mrs. Albright’s refined features contort, as if she’d aged a decade in a single furious breath. She forcefully suppressed her anger, pointing a finger at my head. “Aria Blackwood, are you deliberately trying to disrespect me?” I lowered my head. “No, Mrs. Albright.” She scoffed. “My enemies would wake up laughing from their sleep if they knew I was associating with a family like yours.” “Your entire family, I can’t even begin to describe them! A slimy, scheming stepfather who looks like he’d murder his wife for insurance any second, and a mother so blinded by love she’s foolish enough to get pregnant at nearly sixty!” “And a clueless daughter who clearly has no idea how to present herself!” I kept my head down. “You can say whatever you want about me, but my mother raised me with difficulty. Please don’t talk about her like that, Mrs. Albright.” “You want me to agree to this marriage? Absolutely not!” I apologized, “Mrs. Albright, I’m sorry.” “What is this circus you’ve brought? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me? You clearly have no shame, but I do!” My future mother-in-law’s fury was unbearable. I could only stare at the floor. “Mrs. Albright, it’s my mother’s freedom to have a child. I can’t control it, nor do I have the right to judge.” “Easy to say! Aria Blackwood, that’s her freedom? I ask you, when this child is eighteen, how old will your mother be?” “You want to marry my son? What if you two have your own children? You are completely irresponsible with your own life! I absolutely refuse to have someone like your mother as my in-law!” “You’ve completely disrespected me; your entire family is utterly repulsive!” She finished, then turned to leave with Liam. Meanwhile, I was still ordering food for my mom. Because she was hungry, and pregnant women can’t starve. Mrs. Albright watched me bustling about. “Though I don’t like you, I heard from Liam that you are a very capable girl, even if you won’t be my daughter-in-law.” “I’ll give you one last piece of advice: with a family like that, run away as soon as you can. They’ll only take advantage of you!” “Your mother has never once considered you!” “You and your family are truly bizarre!” With that, she stormed out with Liam. I watched Liam’s retreating back. And still chased after him. Even though he was a momma’s boy, he was undeniably handsome, like a K-drama star! His family was seriously wealthy. And it could really help my future career. Plus, I did love him. I called out to him, “Liam, is this really the end for us?” Liam replied, “My mom says your whole family is crazy.” I argued, “But we have different views than the older generation. If they want to have a child, isn’t it their freedom?” “As a daughter, what can I say? Liam, I’m helpless too!” “I thought you would understand.” Liam said, “I do understand, but I can’t accept my future mother-in-law being like that.” “The child she’s having, it’s basically for you to raise. Wake up!” I was about to say something else. But my mom’s FaceTime call interrupted me. “My little princess, I’m starving! Where are you?” I looked up. Liam was long gone. My mom only realized our in-laws had left after she finished eating. “Aria, why hasn’t your future mother-in-law come back yet?” “Mom, let’s go home. You need your afternoon nap.” “What’s wrong? Tell me!” “It’s off. The engagement is canceled,” I said weakly. “Why? Everything was fine just now! You youngsters treat life like a game! An engagement is a huge deal, and you just call it off like that!” “Mom, can we just go home, please?” Our relatives hadn’t left yet. My mom started yelling at me in front of everyone. “You’re becoming so unruly, daughter! How old are you? You have no stability!” Seeing my mortified expression, my mom’s tone softened. “I’m telling you, Liam isn’t all that great anyway. Besides being rich, handsome, and always doting on you, what else does he have?” My stepfather’s relative interjected, “Exactly, exactly! I always thought that family was too good for you. Honestly, even if you’d married in, you wouldn’t have gotten any real benefits.” I didn’t recognize the woman speaking to me. I only remembered she was one of my stepfather’s relatives, a middle-aged woman who looked quite coarse. “Aria, why don’t you meet my son?” “Even if he doesn’t have a job, he’s an honest man. His ex-wife just divorced him, so it’s perfect timing for you.” She excitedly pulled out her phone to show me a picture of her son. “Look, Aria, my son isn’t very photogenic, but he’s really handsome in person. You should meet him sometime.” “Mrs. Brenda, I’m not in a hurry, thank you for your kindness.” My mind was a blur; I didn’t want to deal with her. The aunt glanced at my stepfather. My stepfather suddenly stood up. “Aria, this is my distant cousin! What’s the harm in adding her on Snapchat? Have you no manners!” My stepfather put on airs, but my mother couldn’t meet my gaze. I looked at Mom. “Mom, what do you think? Should I add her?” Mom replied, “Aria, since you and Liam have broken up, there’s no harm in meeting someone new, right?” “Okay, I’ll listen to you, Mom.” I took out my phone and added the contact. That same evening, I returned to college. My stepfather was overjoyed. “In a family like ours, you need an honest man, you know? Don’t always reach for things that are beyond you!” He was probably drunk, pulling Mrs. Brenda’s hand. “Cousin Brenda, don’t worry, I’ll arrange it myself. Aria will be your daughter-in-law!” Watching my mother’s forced smile, my heart sank to rock bottom. 3 Since love was gone. I decided to focus on preparing for my graduate school re-interview. 8:30 AM. I was dressed in a carefully chosen outfit. Ready for my interview. My phone rang. It was Mom. I didn’t want to answer. But I was worried about her being pregnant and alone. So I picked up. “My little princess, come quickly!” “Mom’s stomach hurts, and I’m bleeding a lot!” Her voice was anxious, and hearing it, I felt a pang of fear. “Where’s Frank?” Mom cried, “How would I know? Probably out playing poker or something. Oh God, just come back, I’m so scared!” I glanced at the interview hall, so close. I could only hail a cab and rush home. At the hospital. The doctor examined Mom. “It’s nothing serious, just a little bleeding.” “Go home and rest. You’re too old for this.” I returned home and saw a bloodstain the size of a fingernail on my mom’s underwear. “Mom, if something happens, why don’t you call Frank?” “I can’t get back from college faster than him.” Mom was still caught up in the relief of a false alarm. “Frank’s busy, I don’t dare bother him. He’s at a crucial point in his career!” “Mom, today was my graduate school re-interview. He’s at a crucial point in his career, what about me?” Mom seemed to realize her mistake. She lowered her head. “My little princess, I was wrong. Mom won’t do this again.” I gritted my teeth, barely suppressing my emotions. “Stop calling me ‘little princess’!” “I’m not blaming you. I just think that Frank is your husband now; he has an obligation to fulfill a husband’s duties.” “And isn’t it his child you’re carrying?” Mom didn’t seem to pay attention to what I was saying, merely giving a perfunctory agreement. “Also, those funds my father left you? You better not let Frank know about them, or he’ll completely take advantage of you!” Mom replied, “How could he? Frank is an honest man; he’s the father of my child. I tell him everything, and I’ve entrusted all our family money to him.” A bad feeling washed over me. “The three million I saved for my overseas studies, you gave that to him too?” My mom avoided my gaze. “I…” “You really gave it to him? That’s the money I need for my overseas studies!” “Daughter, he won’t use your money. I just gave it to him to hold onto.” My emotions were on the verge of collapsing. “Then call him and have him transfer the money to my account.” Mom didn’t understand my sudden change of demeanor and nervously clutched her belly. “What are you doing? Aria, aren’t we family? Why are you suddenly wary of Frank?” “Me, wary of him? Come on, wake up!” My money was gone, and I was frantic. “Call him right now and get my money back, and then I’ll believe what you’re saying!” My mother, unconcerned, picked up her phone. “Hello, honey? The three million I asked you to hold onto, can you give it to me now?” “It’s nothing important, Aria just wants to use it.” “Don’t ask so many questions, just transfer it to my account, okay?” “You can’t take it out? What do you mean? Honey, please come home now and explain it to Aria.” Mom’s voice grew softer, and she cast a guilty glance at me. “Frank said he used that money to buy a house.” “He can’t get it back right now.” “But he said investing in real estate is very profitable, and we’ll pay you back once we make money!” I roared, “Mom!” “Are you out of your mind?! Buying a house now?” “I’m about to graduate! My graduate school plans were ruined by you, and now overseas study is my only path! I want that money back right now!” “Aria, Mom heard it’s really chaotic overseas. Do you really want to abandon Mom and go study abroad?” “The priority right now is getting my money back!” “Alright, alright, look how anxious you are! Why has your temper gotten so bad lately?” “Mom, didn’t you say he had no ulterior motives? Let’s make a bet, okay?” Mom asked, “Bet what?” “Let’s bet on whose name is on the house deed! I bet he won’t even put your name on it, let alone mine.” Mom, without hesitation, laughed and said, “How could that be? He promised me that house is for your little brother.” I stared at her in disbelief. “You knew! You knew about this, and you indulged him in using my overseas study money to buy a house!” It was only then that my mom realized she had accidentally blurted out the truth. “Yes, Aria, Mom knew.” “But Mom truly believes overseas study isn’t necessary. You’ll get married someday; you won’t need that much money.” “But Frank and I are already old; we need to raise your brother, get him married, have children, and buy him a house. Consider this money something we owe you.” I questioned her, “If you knew you were old and couldn’t afford to raise him, why did you have him?” “And what about me, Mom? The moment you got pregnant with him, my room was taken over, even though this is the house my father left me!” “Losing my room was one thing, but you ruined a perfectly good engagement for me!” “And all that was still fine, but you ruined my graduate school re-interview too!” “That was my future! I was first in the written exam! Do you know how hard it is to prepare for that? A whole year of my effort, all ruined by you!” “And now you tell me I can’t even go study overseas, and my money has been completely used up by you two!” “I was the top graduate in my medical school program! If I hadn’t wanted to apply to my dream school, I would have been guaranteed admission already!” “If I don’t go to grad school or abroad, what do you want me to do? I won’t find a job with just a bachelor’s degree!” My mom looked at me like I was insane. “Aria, do you remember Frank’s distant cousin, Mrs. Brenda?” “Her son can introduce you to a job. He works at the local community clinic, mostly handling inventory and waste disposal, but he knows people there.” “The young man said if you’re willing to marry him, he’ll pull some strings for you to work at the hospital.” “Mom, you’re crazy, you’re truly crazy. Do you even know what you’re saying?” “Mom thinks overseas is bad. Why can’t you just graduate, find an honest man to marry, and be Mom’s little princess forever?” “You’re terrifying. I’m going to sue Frank to get my assets back!” “Are you even my mom?” “Do you really think I’d choose between studying overseas and marrying a twice-divorced man who handles waste disposal?” “Someone’s really messed with your head.” “You’re on your own!” I stormed out of the house. Mom helplessly called after me, “I’ve done everything for your sake, why don’t you understand a parent’s hardships?”

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On my eighteenth birthday, the Valerius crime family found me, claiming I was their long-lost daughter. They booked out an entire hospital, flying in top doctors from around the globe, all just to find a match for me and Caleb, their son, who had a heart condition. When the report flashed “perfect match,” my so-called mother, Eleanor, hugged me, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Serena, this is wonderful! Your brother is saved!” But the night before the surgery, she brought me a bowl of sleeping draught, her eyes chilling as she said: “Drink this. We’ll announce you died during surgery, an unfortunate accident. You’re just a country girl, unfit for the Valerius name. Your heart is the only thing that gives you value, the only way you can save your brother.” I looked at the triumphant smirk on the fake heiress’s face behind her and calmly drank the soup. Mom, you didn’t know. My heart was already failing too. Doctors said I wouldn’t live three months. I watched the triumphant smirk on the fake heiress’s face behind her and calmly drank the soup. The soup was warm, carrying a medicinal taste, a flavor I utterly loathed. But I didn’t let it show. Instead, I offered her a smile. “Thank you, Mom.” She collected the bowl with satisfaction, and as she turned, the coldness and disdain in her eyes were no longer bothering to hide. “That’s more like it.” Behind her, the fake heiress, Serena Valerius – the girl who’d lived my life for eighteen years – giggled, clinging to Eleanor’s arm. “Mom, I told you Maya was the most understanding. She’d do anything for her brother.” The mother and daughter exchanged smug smiles, as if performing a play just for me. All I could do was offer a fake smile in return. After they left, I lay on the sterile white hospital bed, feeling the subtle changes in my body. I dared not sleep. Because I was still waiting. Waiting for my so-called father, Arthur Valerius, the head of the Valerius Corporation, to come for the final confirmation. Sure enough, half an hour later, the door to my room pushed open. Arthur Valerius strode in, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, his expression utterly cold. It was as if he wasn’t visiting his daughter, but inspecting a newly acquired item. Beside him walked Dr. Wyatt, the world’s leading cardiac specialist. “Is she asleep?” Dr. Wyatt checked my pupils and pulse, then nodded. “Mr. Valerius, rest assured. The sedative dosage was precise. She’ll sleep soundly until the surgery begins, without any pain.” “Good.” Arthur Valerius’s voice held no ripple of emotion. “Remember, Dr. Wyatt, the surgery must be successful. My son’s life is more important than anything.” Dr. Wyatt nodded, respectfully responding. “The compatibility of this heart is truly perfect, a gift from God. Your son will recover quickly after the operation.” I almost laughed out loud. My dear father, you went to great lengths to drag me back from that remote village, not for reconciliation, but because your only son needed a compatible heart. And I, I was just the most compatible “item” you found. To prevent me from resisting, you lied, telling me it was just for tissue typing, a simple blood test. When the report came out, my biological mother, Eleanor, held me, weeping uncontrollably. But what she whispered was, “Caleb is saved.” From start to finish, no one ever asked me if I was willing. In their eyes, it seemed completely irrelevant. My life was clearly worth less than a suitable heart. Arthur Valerius stood for a while longer, seemingly ensuring I wouldn’t suddenly wake up. Then, he left without a backward glance. The moment the door closed, I opened my eyes. In the darkness, tears streamed down my face involuntarily. Mom, what you gave me was indeed a sleeping draught. But what you didn’t know was that before you brought it, I had already poured another bottle of colorless, odorless agent into my water glass. It was a powerful myocardial cell activator. It would make my heart exhibit unprecedented vitality and strength for a short period. But this vitality, which overtaxed my life, came at a price. After taking it, I could only sustain for a maximum of twelve hours. After twelve hours, it would completely fail and necrotize at the fastest possible rate. And that bowl of sleeping draught was the calculated prelude I needed to set the stage for this grand performance. You want my heart? Fine. I’ll give it to you. Not only will I give it, but I will personally deliver it into my “precious” brother’s chest. I want you to watch with your own eyes as hope, just ignited, crumbles into ashes.

The next morning, while I was still “asleep,” nurses wheeled me into the operating room. The surgical lights blazed, and cold instruments hummed faintly around me. Through a glass wall, I could vaguely see their anxious waiting figures. Eleanor covered her mouth, her eyes red, performing a show of deep mother-daughter affection. Serena, nestled beside her, couldn’t hide the triumph curving her lips. Dr. Wyatt put on his mask, picked up the scalpel, and gave a reassuring gesture to Arthur Valerius through the glass. “Prepare the anesthesia.” Cold liquid flowed into my veins. I took one last look at that family. Then, my consciousness plunged completely into darkness. … “It’s a success! The surgery was a complete success!” I don’t know how much time passed before I was “awakened” by a burst of ecstatic shouts. Of course, I wasn’t truly awake. My body had already been declared “massive intraoperative hemorrhage, resuscitation failed.” At this moment, the “me” was merely a detached consciousness, an observer. I saw Caleb Valerius wheeled out of the operating room, all his monitoring instruments showing normal readings. Eleanor saw her son emerge and immediately rushed forward. “Caleb, my Caleb! You’re finally well!” Arthur Valerius, for once, allowed a rare hint of a smile. He fought back tears as he clapped Dr. Wyatt on the shoulder. “Thank you.” Serena was even more excited, practically jumping up and down. “That’s wonderful! Caleb is fine!” The whole family gathered around Caleb, celebrating his new lease on life. Meanwhile, in another operating room, my body was slowly growing cold. No one cared. In fact, as Eleanor passed the gurney carrying my “body,” she averted her gaze in disgust, as if even a glance would bring bad luck. “Mom, what’s that?” Serena suddenly pointed to the bedside table in my old hospital room. There was an envelope there. It was in my handwriting. It read: To my dear Parents. Eleanor frowned, a look of revulsion on her face as she picked it up and tore it open. Arthur Valerius and Serena also leaned in, curious. The letter contained only a few short lines: \[Dad, Mom, thank you for finding me and giving me the chance to give my heart to my brother. Actually, I had already been diagnosed with heart failure when I was in the countryside. Doctors said I wouldn’t live three months. Now, to use this useless heart to buy my brother a lifetime of health is my greatest honor. Goodbye, I love you. The letter fluttered to the floor. Eleanor’s face instantly went ashen, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word. Arthur Valerius snatched the letter, reread it several times, then ripped it to shreds. “Nonsense! This is impossible! Dr. Wyatt clearly said the heart was perfect!” He roared, as if grasping at a last straw. “Quick! Get Wyatt over here!” Just then, in Caleb Valerius’s room, a piercing alarm suddenly blared! “Beep—beep—beep—” The heartbeat curve on the monitor slowly dropped, then flattened into a straight line. A young nurse scrambled out, her voice shaking uncontrollably: “Mr. Valerius! It’s bad!” “Young Master Caleb… he has no heartbeat!”

The world, at that moment, seemed to hit a mute button. The corridor, filled with euphoria a second ago, instantly fell silent. Arthur Valerius pushed past the nurse and stormed into the room. My dear mother collapsed to the floor, her gaze vacant. “No… it can’t be… it was successful…” Inside the room, Dr. Wyatt and his team were frantically trying to revive Caleb. “Adrenaline!” “Prepare for defibrillation!” “No heart rate response! The failure is too rapid! This is not scientific!” Dr. Wyatt’s shouts bordered on hysteria. How could a heart that was considered an “artwork” just hours ago wither and necrotize like a sponge instantly drained of water? Arthur Valerius’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Dr. Wyatt by the collar. “You said it was perfect! Why is this happening?!” “I don’t know!” Dr. Wyatt’s voice choked, shaking his head repeatedly. “This must be some unknown, acute rejection! Yes, it’s rejection, don’t blame me!” “Rejection?” Arthur Valerius’s eyes were wild. He threw Dr. Wyatt to the floor. “Then replace it again! Use mine!” Dr. Wyatt shook his head despairingly. “It’s too late, Mr. Valerius. This heart is necrotizing inside him, and the toxins will rapidly destroy his immune system…” “Useless!” Arthur Valerius punched the wall, blood instantly seeping from his knuckles. Hope had plummeted from the clouds, shattering into a million pieces. This feeling, it must be exquisite, wouldn’t it? I “floated” in the air, calmly observing the farce. At this moment, my eyes held only the thrill of vengeance served. Father, Mother, Brother. Your family, at last, was “reunited” in another way. Half an hour later, the resuscitation attempt ended. Dr. Wyatt wearily removed his mask, shaking his head helplessly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Valerius, we did everything we could.” Caleb Valerius, the Valerius family’s only heir, was dead. Killed by my “loving” heart. Eleanor let out a guttural scream and fainted. Arthur Valerius, a man always so cold, instantly aged ten years. His gaze, piercing through the crowd, landed on the gurney covered with a white sheet. My “body” lay there quietly. For the first time, his eyes held something other than calculation. Was it bewilderment, regret, or even a hint of fear? Whatever it was, I saw no remorse. He slowly walked over and pulled back the white sheet. My sallow, emaciated face lay there peacefully. “Heart failure… wouldn’t live three months…” He muttered the words from my letter over and over, as if hypnotizing himself, or perhaps denying everything. “Right, she was going to die anyway. It was her choice… it’s not my fault…” He sought some shred of comfort within himself. But how could these things be erased with a single phrase? The “fruit” on this tree, he had planted all the “seeds” himself. But Dr. Wyatt’s next words ripped away his last pretense. He rushed forward with a certificate, holding it out to Arthur Valerius, his expression agitated. “No! This isn’t right!” Dr. Wyatt frantically rushed to the nurses’ station and pulled up my pre-surgery blood report. He pointed to one of the indicators, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Impossible! This cellular activity indicates that this heart was stronger than any athlete’s heart before transplant! It wasn’t diseased at all!” Arthur Valerius’s whole body jolted. He immediately grabbed Dr. Wyatt’s shoulders. “What did you say?” “I said.” Dr. Wyatt’s voice trembled. “Her heart was healthy! Perfectly healthy! What the letter said was a lie!” He paused, a terrifying thought dawning on him. “Unless… she did it on purpose!” “She must have used some kind of drug to make her heart appear in its most perfect state, deceiving all of us!” Dr. Wyatt grew more agitated, as if trying to clear himself of responsibility through his words. “Once the drug wore off, the heart would immediately collapse! My God, this… this was a deliberate, mutually assured murder!” The word “murder” exploded like thunder in Arthur Valerius’s ears. His vision swam, and he staggered backward. Not fate, not an accident. It was her, this daughter he had never truly looked at, who had gambled her own life, a calculated murder of his only son. She hated them. Hated them enough to use her own heart as the weapon. Arthur Valerius’s throat made a gurgling sound, the blood vessels in his eyes tearing open inch by inch. He finally understood. He wasn’t the hunter. He, and his family, were merely prey in my trap, awaiting judgment. “Ah—!” He let out a strangled roar, rushing to my gurney, violently shaking my cold body. “Why! Why would you do this! I’m your father!” I really wanted to laugh. Father? Where were you during the eighteen years I was trafficked? Where were you when I was treated as a walking organ bank? Now, you ask me why. How ridiculous. Just then, Serena Valerius, who had been hiding in the corner, suddenly shrieked. “Dad… Dad… your phone… it’s ringing…” Arthur Valerius numbly pulled out his phone. On the screen was a newly received email. Sender: Your Abandoned Daughter. Email Subject: *Dad, My Final Gift For You* Arthur Valerius’s fingers trembled violently as he clicked open the email. Inside, there was only one video. He pressed play. My face appeared on the screen. It was recorded the night before the surgery. Video me, wearing a hospital gown, my face pale, but my eyes unusually calm. “Dad, Mom, by the time you see this video, I imagine Caleb has already received the ‘gift’ I gave him.” I smiled, showing a flash of white teeth. But that smile, in their eyes, was chillingly sinister. “You must be wondering why I hate you so much.” “After all, you gave me life, didn’t you?” My voice was soft, but every word felt like a poisoned steel needle. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon…” “Tell you the answer.”

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I woke up, and just like that, I was eighteen again, back to the days when I was the target of relentless bullying. The school’s golden boy, Julian, shielded me, his voice booming as he lectured my tormentors: “Audrey is mine. Touch her, and you answer to me!” The girls around us gasped, swooning over his knight-in-shining-armor moment. A sharp, humorless laugh escaped my lips. If only I didn’t know that ten years later, this man would be my husband, bringing his mistress right into our home, flaunting their disgusting affair in my face, I might have cried tears of gratitude. But too bad… I wasn’t that pathetic, crybaby version of myself anymore. The twenty-eight-year-old me was long gone! Before Julian could even react, I quietly picked up a steel pipe from the ground. I flashed a chilling grin at my bullies: “Do you know what a *real* psycho looks like?” “Audrey, did you finally lose your mind after getting hit so many times?!” Brittany sneered, spitting on the ground. “Don’t act all innocent. You just flaunt your chest, which is bigger than everyone else’s, to hook up with guys, right?” “Slut! Disgusting!” “Who are you trying to scare with a broken pipe? Think you’re in some gangster movie?” Her gang of followers cackled along, their eyes filled with pure malice. I ignored their taunts and just smiled. “You’re right,” I murmured softly. “If you’re going to play the bad guy, you have to go all out.” The moment the words left my lips, I moved. The steel pipe whistled through the air, smashing down without hesitation onto Brittany’s raised arm. *Crack!* The crisp sound of bone breaking instantly drowned out all the other noise. Then came Brittany’s bloodcurdling shriek. “Ah—my arm! My arm is broken!” The color drained completely from her face. She cradled her arm, twisted at a grotesque angle, tears and snot mixing as she wailed. “Audrey! You psycho! You actually dared to…!” The girls who had been so arrogant just moments ago, their smiles froze, replaced by terror! They stared at me like I was a monster. “Why wouldn’t I dare? You bully me, and I’m not allowed to fight back?” I weighed the steel pipe in my hand, a cold, dark expression twisting my lips. Suddenly— “Ah!” Someone let out a high-pitched scream, and the girls scattered like startled pigeons. They stumbled and scrambled, wishing for more legs, terrified that they would be the next one to be broken. The narrow alley was instantly left with just Julian and me, and the widening puddle of blood on the ground. He was completely stunned, his face a mask of disbelief. In his eyes, I had always been sweet and innocent. He never imagined I would actually hit someone. “Audrey, calm down, don’t be impulsive…” “Listen to me, put that down.” He reached out to grab me, but I swung my hand back, putting all my strength into a stinging slap across his face. Five clear fingerprints rapidly appeared on his skin, a glaring red. “Audrey!” A flicker of raw fury flashed in his eyes. I smirked internally. There it was. That was the Julian I knew. After we got married in my past life, he quickly showed his true colors, treating me like a mere toy to satisfy his desires. Once he grew bored, he quickly found other women, even making me part of their twisted games. Whenever I tried to resist him, he would look at me with that same glint in his eye. But he quickly suppressed the anger, for no other reason than he still wanted me. “Fine, you’re wild enough.” “I like it.” A cold, thin smile stretched across his lips. I couldn’t be bothered to look at him again. I casually tossed aside the steel pipe, stained with blood and rust. Like it? Julian, this time, I’ll make sure you *really* “like” it.

Back in the classroom, the entire class fell into a deathly silence. Everyone stared at me like they’d seen a ghost, their whispers barely audible. “Oh my god, she really dared to hit Julian? Is she crazy? Will the Chen family even let her live until tomorrow?” “And Brittany got hit too. I just saw someone helping her to the infirmary, her wrist was swollen like a pig’s foot, completely disfigured… Don’t tell me Audrey did it?” “She’s lost her mind, hasn’t she? She used to be so timid, always quiet. She’d just cry when she was bullied.” I ignored the chatter and walked straight to my desk. On my desk, someone had used white-out to draw a crude turtle, with “Audrey the slut” written next to it. My desk cubby was stuffed with garbage. There was even a wad of chewed-up gum spit inside, with a few strands of unknown hair stuck to it. I emotionlessly extended my finger, scraping off the dried graffiti, bit by bit, with my fingernail. Not a word. But my calm demeanor, to others, looked like submission. Soon after, a folded note was passed from the front, accompanied by snickers from a few boys along the way, finally landing on my desk. I didn’t even need to open it to know what was inside. In my past life, I received notes like this almost every day. Because I developed curves earlier than other girls, some boys always found sick pleasure in it. They used vulgar insults to humiliate me, and took pride in it. I slowly unfolded the note. It was a drawing, done with a black marker. My body was crudely depicted naked, surrounded by several leering stick figures. They were making obscene gestures at me. Next to it, a line of scrawled text read: [Audrey, name your price tonight? Us guys are good in bed, we’ll make you scream for more.] The artwork was rough, but the malice practically overflowed from the page. My past self, seeing something like this, would have collapsed onto the desk, crying uncontrollably. Letting the explosion of laughter around me drown me completely. But now. I slowly lifted my head, my gaze sweeping coldly across the entire classroom. Finally, it landed on Kyle, a boy who was exchanging smirks and nudges with his buddies. Kyle was the class’s notorious troublemaker, and banking on his family’s money, his favorite pastime was bullying the weak. I held the note, stood up, and walked towards him, step by agonizing step. The air in the classroom completely solidified, even the sound of breathing vanished. Seeing me approach, Kyle didn’t hold back one bit. In fact, he smirked even wider. He leaned back in his chair with a swagger, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. Finally, he stuck out his tongue, making an incredibly lecherous lip-licking gesture. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes screamed, “What are you going to do about it?” I smiled, and under his provocative gaze, I slowly stuffed the crumpled note directly into his open mouth. “Ugh… What the hell are you doing?!” He hadn’t expected such a move, and gagged on the paper wad, his eyes rolling. “Does it taste good?” I leaned down and asked softly. Before he could react, I suddenly lifted my foot, aimed squarely between his legs. And kicked him with all my might! “Aow—!” Kyle’s protest instantly turned into a high-pitched, agonizing scream. He clutched his lower half, curling into a ball, his face instantly beet red. The class exploded! Girls shrieked in horror, covering their eyes. All the boys collectively gasped, instinctively clamping their legs together. Kyle writhed on the floor for a few seconds, then grabbed the heavy metal pencil case from his desk. His face contorted with fury, he roared and lunged at me: “You bitch! I’m going to kill you today!” I didn’t dodge. The moment he lunged, I precisely sidestepped him. I grabbed the wrist that was swinging the pencil case and twisted it backward with force! *Snap!* Another tooth-grinding sound of a joint dislocating. “Ah—!” He let out a second scream, his wrist dislocated, the pencil case clattering to the floor. As his other hand instinctively swung at me, I swiftly grabbed the utility knife that had popped open on his desk, and in one swift motion, without hesitation— A deep gash, visible to the bone, instantly bloomed on his arm. Blood dripped to the floor, staining the white tiles. The entire class fell into a deathly silence. Then came even more hysterical screams. “Ah! Blood! She killed him! Call the teacher!” In the chaos, the classroom’s back door burst open, and Julian rushed in again. He hurried to me, grabbing my shoulders, his grip so strong it felt like he would crush my bones. “Enough! Audrey, stop it! What the hell do you want?!” His voice was filled with exasperation and confusion. I violently shook off his hands, and with a flick of my wrist. The utility knife, still dripping blood, was pointed steadily at his Adam’s apple, barely a millimeter from piercing his throat. Watching his face instantly freeze, I spoke softly. “Julian, I’m saying this one last time.” “Don’t touch me. You disgust me.”

After that incident, I was taken to the Dean of Students’ office. Or rather, I strolled in confidently, followed by a group of trembling teachers. Kyle was also sent to the infirmary, and his notoriously feisty mother, Brenda, quickly stormed in. The moment she entered, she pointed a finger at my nose, spitting insults. “You little bitch! So vicious at such a young age! You beat my son like this, have you no respect for the law?!” “Didn’t your parents teach you right? Running around with boys and acting like trash!” Her shouting made my ears ache. Mr. Davies, the Dean of Students, was a balding man. He was clearly annoyed, constantly wiping sweat from his forehead. “Brenda, please don’t get agitated. We’re still investigating the matter. Audrey, she…” “Investigate what?! My son is bleeding! This little slut did it!” Brenda cut him off, eyeing me up and down. “Look at her, acting like a tramp! She doesn’t even look like a student! Dressed like she’s selling herself! How many men have touched those breasts?!” “This disgusting student should be expelled! Expel her immediately! Otherwise, I’ll cause hell for this school!” I watched her throw her tantrum calmly, not even bothering to lift an eyelid. Mr. Davies, seeing my “devil-may-care attitude,” also turned his attention to me, puffed up with self-importance: “Audrey! What is this attitude?! You hit a classmate and you don’t even regret it?” “Look at the terrible impact you’ve had on the school! Quickly! Apologize to Brenda right now!” I smiled, “Apologize?” Why should I apologize? In my past life, and in this one, how did they bully me? For three whole years, I practically ate tears with every meal, never knowing a single good day, struggling in fear every single day. Why should I apologize to the trash who bullied me?! Looking at Mr. Davies’ smug, judgmental face, I felt sick! In my past life, it wasn’t like I hadn’t fought back or cried for help. But when I told him what was happening, what did he say? “It takes two to tango. Why do they only bully you, and not others? Always think about your own problems. If you weren’t dressed provocatively and acting like you’re asking for trouble, would others mess with you?” But I was clearly wearing a loose, standard school uniform! I’ll never forget the creepy gaze he gave my chest as he lectured me! Now, I just stared at his greasy, dogmatic face with disdain, then slowly uttered three words: “He! Deserved! It!” “You—!” Mr. Davies’ face turned beet red with rage. He jumped up from his chair. “Rebellious! What kind of attitude is that?!” “Disrespectful! No remorse! Believe it or not, I’ll give you a suspension immediately!” I didn’t wait for him to finish. The moment his spittle flew, I grabbed the steaming hot mug of strong tea from his desk. With a flick of my arm, I aimed at his bald head and drenched him head-to-toe! *Splash!* Scalding tea mixed with soggy tea leaves plastered his face. “Ah—!” He shrieked, jumping off his chair, scalded and looking utterly pathetic. Everyone in the office was stunned. Brenda also backed away in shock, her eyes, for the first time, showing fear. Her expression screamed: *This woman is crazy, she even dares to hit the Dean of Students!* I walked slowly towards Mr. Davies, who was howling while clutching his face, my voice soft. “Mr. Davies, how much did Kyle’s family pay you off? You ignore the truth and just tell me to apologize? What can your mouth do besides bully me?” “You’re not fit to be a teacher.” “Rebellious! You’re completely rebellious!” Mr. Davies trembled with rage, pointing at me, but too much pain to utter a complete sentence. Just then, the office door opened. It was Julian. He gave a cold glance at the chaos in the office, his gaze finally settling on me. “Audrey, stop this. This is your last chance. Beg me.” “If you become my girlfriend, I’ll use my father’s connections to fix this for you.” I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Help me? Julian, you should worry about yourself first.” Under his stunned, confused gaze, my smile grew even brighter. “Aren’t you curious? Your womanizing father, with countless lovers, why doesn’t he have a single illegitimate child?” I paused, giving him time to think and feel fear, then slowly spoke. “You don’t know, do you? Your father has severe infertility.” I watched with satisfaction as the arrogance and confidence on his face instantly crumbled, shattering into endless pallor and panic. I leaned closer to him. “Julian, guess whose… bastard you really are?” In that instant, I saw Julian’s face crack, his eyes filled with disbelief! “You bitch, you… how do you know all this?!”

How do I know? You told me yourself, of course. Only after marrying Julian in my past life did I learn all the dirty secrets of his family. I coldly pushed him away, pulling out my phone to call his mother. “What are you doing!” He tried to snatch it, but my icy gaze nailed him to the spot. The call was answered quickly. I put it on speaker. “Who is this?” Julian’s body instantly stiffened. “Mrs. Eleanor? This is Audrey.” I chuckled lightly, “Your son, Julian, is currently in the Dean of Students’ office. You have ten minutes to come and pick him up.” “Otherwise, I imagine by tomorrow morning, all of high society will know that the sole heir of the Chen family is an illegitimate bastard of unknown origin.” There was a deathly silence on the other end of the line, lasting several seconds before she spoke. “I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone and tucked it back into my pocket, not sparing Julian another glance. In the office, only Brenda was still clamoring endlessly: “I don’t care what grudges you have! This little bitch hitting my son is a fact!” “I’m calling the police! I’m calling them right now to arrest her!” “Calling the police?” I pulled out the note with the obscene drawing from my backpack and unfolded it in front of her. “Go ahead, call them. This is sexual harassment and character defamation, and this paper is the evidence.” “Even if he’s a minor and won’t go to jail, a record will follow him for life.” Kyle’s face turned pale, and he hung his head, not daring to speak. I stared at her and continued: “And I recall your son is applying for a sports scholarship, aiming for a prestigious university, right?” “Is it worth ruining his entire future for this petty dispute?” The arrogant fire on Brenda’s face instantly extinguished. She pointed a finger at me for a long time, but ultimately couldn’t press the call button. Less than ten minutes later, Julian’s mother, Eleanor, indeed arrived. She didn’t say a word, just grabbed the distraught Julian and hurried away. But before leaving, Eleanor’s face was pale, and her eyes looked like she wanted to devour me whole. But I didn’t care. This was exactly what I wanted. Only by making him fall from grace, by making him lose everything, could this revenge truly begin. The commotion in the office, in the face of the explosive secret about the Chen family, was no longer anyone’s concern. Mr. Davies, with tea leaves still plastered on his face, dared not say another word. Expel me? Compared to a madwoman who might have offended both the Chen family and another unknown powerful entity, Brenda’s threats seemed utterly ridiculous. I calmly walked out of the office, even thoughtfully closing the door behind me. The world was finally quiet. That night, lying in my room, memories of my past life flooded over me like a tide. I remembered when I was pregnant, suffering from terrible morning sickness. Julian brazenly brought his mistress to stay in our guest room, openly affectionate in front of me. The mistress even wore my pajamas and used my cup. “Sister, Julian says he loves it most when I wear your clothes. It gives him such a sense of conquest.” “Unlike you, you’re just a washed-up old hag. Julian says looking at you makes him lose his appetite.” Faced with the mistress’s blatant provocation, I was helpless. At that time, our child had a high fever and was convulsing. I cried and called Julian, begging him to come home, but he was flirting with his mistress on the phone. Finally, to force me to leave with nothing, he picked up a scalding cigarette butt and pressed it onto our child’s tender arm, right in front of me. Those pains have now all transformed into my motivation for revenge. Julian, this is just the beginning! Next, the Chen family will plunge into immense internal strife and a crisis of trust because of this incident. He’ll be powerless to retaliate against me for a while. He needs to figure out whose son he really is. I need to use this precious period of calm to find my most important chess piece – Leo. In my past life, when Julian pushed me to a dead end, utterly devastated, a young entrepreneur reached out to me. He was a legend who had graduated from our school, built his empire from scratch, and became a rising star in the business world. I remember he found me then, offering to help me get revenge on Julian. Unfortunately, my heart was already dead, and I refused his help. Soon after, I jumped from a tall building. And he, a few years later, was framed by the now successful Julian in a business rivalry. His company went bankrupt, he was burdened with massive debts, and eventually died heartbroken. Reborn, I not only want revenge, but also to seize this light that once shone at the end of my life, a light I had pushed away with my own hands. According to my memory, I found Leo, who was working part-time at the school library. At this moment, he was still just a senior in high school. Wearing a faded, well-worn school uniform, he was quiet and reserved. But his eyes held a maturity and ambition beyond his years. Perfect, he’s the one I need.

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I was blasted online by the new intern, Chloe Reed, who claimed AscendCorp was forcing employees to use their vacation days for mandatory team-building events. No one wanted to travel all the way to a tropical island to put on a show with coworkers. But what the internet didn’t know was AscendCorp’s team-building tradition: Every year, we booked an entire five-star resort, all expenses paid, and employees could bring their families. We even gave an additional three days of paid leave, with a lavish per-person budget that ensured a truly luxury experience. The entire internet was calling me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to fulfill their wishes and issued a direct announcement: “In response to employee feedback and to respect individual time, this year’s company retreat will be canceled. Instead, a $500 free-travel stipend will be issued to all employees.” The moment the announcement went out, the company erupted. Senior employees swarmed my office door, begging me to bring back the Caribbean sun and sand. Brenda Patterson, our Administrative Director, and I had just finalized this year’s retreat plans. “Alex, this is the one, right? A six-star island in the Maldives, all-inclusive.” Brenda’s voice was buzzing with excitement. I nodded, satisfied. Years ago, in a cramped, dingy startup office, I had promised my team: “One day, I’m going to take all of us to the most breathtaking places on Earth to celebrate our successes!” It was a promise I had kept for many years. I told Brenda, “The per-person budget is generous—don’t skimp on a single cent. And make sure every employee attending gets three extra days of *paid* annual leave!” Brenda smiled, closing her tablet. “If we send this out, the company-wide WhatsApp group is going to explode.” Sure enough, after the notice went into our 400-plus person company WhatsApp group, it was instantly flooded with celebratory emojis. David Miller from the tech department posted a family photo: “Amazing! Last year I promised to take my daughter to the beach to see sea turtles, and now it’s finally happening!” A newlywed couple from the marketing department was already discussing whether to turn it into a spontaneous honeymoon. The entire company was immersed in a festive joy. I watched the endless stream of thank-you messages scrolling across my phone screen, a deep sense of satisfaction filling me. However, a discordant message abruptly popped up. It was from the new intern, Chloe Reed. She posted a link to a viral TikTok video where an influencer was ranting about pointless corporate retreats, then casually added: “Seriously? Are they for real? A company still doing mandatory trips in this day and age? I’d totally rather just stay home and do nothing.” The lively group chat instantly froze. Mike Peterson, a department head, immediately tried to defuse the tension: “Chloe just joined, she doesn’t know the ropes yet. Our company retreat is a top-tier perk—you’d be crazy to miss it!” Another coworker sarcastically chimed in, “Exactly. Some people would kill to get an invite like that.” Chloe immediately replied with an eye-roll emoji: “No thanks, not interested. Don’t want to waste my life putting on a show with coworkers I barely know.” “If the boss really has that kind of cash, why not just give us the money directly? That’d be way more useful.” Her comments silenced the group completely. A few senior employees who had been enthusiastically chatting just moments before quietly deleted their messages. I even noticed a few anonymous profiles discreetly ‘liked’ Chloe’s comment, only to quickly unlike it seconds later. That afternoon, there was a knock on my office door. It was Chloe Reed. She wore trendy slides and carried a bubble tea, showing no hint of nervousness in front of the CEO. “Alex, can we talk?” With a slight tilt of her chin, she casually flopped onto the sofa across from me. “I think this whole company retreat thing is totally outdated. For young people like us, we value work-life separation. You spend a fortune to gather us all, and we have to fake smiles? How exhausting.” She looked at me defiantly. “It’s an emotional drain, you know? Why not just give us the money directly? Everyone wins.” I looked at her, that ‘let me show you how it’s done’ look on her face, finding it both absurd and amusing. “The company retreat is a mark of honor for our outstanding employees, a form of collective recognition, not some bargain-bin perk you can haggle over.” Chloe scoffed. “Fine, whatever. My bad for even saying anything.” She stood up to leave, mumbling under her breath, “So preachy. Lame.” Towards the end of the workday, I saw Gary Thompson, an office veteran, along with a few younger employees, gather around Chloe’s desk. Gary beamed, “Chloe, what you said? That’s exactly how we feel! You nailed it! Don’t worry, we’ve got your back!” Chloe smugly raised an eyebrow, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry, Gary, watch this.” Immediately after, I saw Chloe pull out her phone and snap a pic of her computer screen. Then, she flipped the camera to herself, her face instantly shifting to a put-upon expression, complete with a somber gray filter. Her lips moved, forming a silent “Help me!” My stomach dropped.

After getting home from work, a video notification suddenly popped up. The sensational headline screamed: “My Salary vs. Their ‘Mandatory’ Luxury Retreat: Is This a Blessing or a Curse?” On the thumbnail, it was Chloe’s face, a picture of pure, forced misery. My stomach lurched, and I clicked on the video. It opened with a promotional video for a six-star Maldives hotel, but it was desaturated to a gloomy black and white, set to somber music. Text overlay appeared: “The boss’s sugar-coated promises sure *look* good.” The scene switched to Chloe’s desk, with a close-up of a regular spreadsheet. New text: “But I’m just a regular employee, all I want is to clock out and go home.” Then a close-up of her looking tearfully wronged, with the text: “Being told my precious personal weekend would be eaten up by some huge, forced group performance? Yeah, no thanks.” She slyly twisted “extra paid time off” into “eating up our precious weekends.” Finally, she addressed the camera, accusingly: “Forget the Maldives. All I want is to sleep in on my days off. If this is a ‘blessing,’ you can have it.” The comments section, predictably, blew up. “Gen Z knows how to live! Name and shame! We’ll help you cancel them!” “Hate bosses like this, just patting themselves on the back! Get it straight, my job is to work, not to perform for some ‘team-building’ charade.” “Introverts hate team building! Give us back our peace and quiet!” My blood ran cold with fury. Three days of paid leave, spun as “eating up our precious weekends.” A several-thousand-dollar luxury benefit, framed as “blackmail.” The next morning, the company atmosphere felt off. Several employees clustered around Chloe, verbally chastising her for being “too bold” while their faces gleamed with excited curiosity. Gary Thompson, the office veteran, even walked directly into my office with her. Gary began with a phony sigh. “Alex, don’t be mad. While Chloe’s approach was a bit extreme, she did speak for a lot of young people. Maybe… you should just go with the flow?” Chloe stood beside him, arms crossed, a smug, defiant expression on her face. She wiggled her phone. “Alex, see? This is what everyone wants. It’s the current trend.” I said coldly, “The company’s traditions and rules will not change because of anyone’s childish antics.” Chloe let out a dismissive scoff. “Traditions? Traditions are meant to be broken. If you don’t find a way to make people happy, I can’t guarantee this won’t go viral nationwide tomorrow.” Just as she finished, my assistant burst through the door, pale as a ghost. “Alex, it’s bad! Chloe Reed’s video is already trending!” I refreshed my phone, and it was true. What chilled me even more were a few anonymous comments below the video, the IP addresses traced back to *this very building*. “Ugh, tell me about it. They call it a luxury trip, but last year’s hotel room was smaller than my bathroom.” “Benefits? Just empty promises. They say ‘thousands per person,’ but that dump barely cost a few hundred.” These lies made my head swim. They wanted the company’s lavish benefits, yet they wanted to push all the risk onto an intern. They fantasized that if things blew up, the trip would be directly converted into cash. This sophisticated yet greedy self-interest shattered years of my goodwill. I looked at the two triumphant figures before me and suddenly felt utterly hollow.

Overnight, AscendCorp, once an “ideal workplace” that everyone envied, had transformed into a “sweatshop” condemned by the entire internet. The company’s name, my photos—everything was doxxed. Abusive DMs and incessant harassment calls flooded my phone, making it vibrate furiously on my desk. “Cold-blooded capitalist, hope your company goes bankrupt tomorrow!” “Exploitative trash company, already reported you to the labor department!” My PR manager, with heavy bags under his eyes, handed me an emergency PR plan. His voice was hoarse. “Alex, we have to speak out immediately! Draft an official statement, clarify all the facts!” I pinched my throbbing temples, looking at him. “If we issue a statement now, to the public, it won’t be a calm explanation. It’ll be seen as defensive and tone-deaf showing off of wealth, which will only provoke greater outrage.” The manager froze, his mouth agape, unable to speak. When emotion overwhelms reason, facts simply fall on deaf ears. I was wrong. I thought that if I treated people with sincerity, someone would eventually choose to believe me. But as I refreshed that trending video, a new anonymous comment, boosted to the top by countless likes, caught my eye. The familiar tone made me almost certain it came from within the company. “Don’t bother trying to explain. I’m an insider at this company. That ‘paid leave’? It’s just them forcing us to use our own precious annual leave! Refuse, and your manager will make your life hell. We’re all angry but too scared to speak up!” I stared hard at that comment, my head swimming. It wasn’t anger. It was a bone-deep weariness and disgust. I could even picture who typed those words – perhaps the same senior employee who had thanked me just last week. This comment, like a giant boulder, crushed the last shred of hope in my heart. With even more malicious lies, it tainted the company’s sole act of goodwill, turning it into a conspiracy. Below it, countless others claiming to be “internal employees” chimed in. My mind flashed back to the days when the company first turned a profit, everyone celebrating at a local diner. Back then, everyone’s smiles were genuine. I questioned myself: in terms of benefits and treatment, I had never short-changed any of the team who had struggled alongside me. Yet, in the end, all I got was betrayal from everyone. They comfortably enjoyed my generosity, yet for the sake of some vague “cash bonus,” they didn’t hesitate to stab me in the back. Turns out, my carefully cultivated image of decency was nothing but a self-indulgent joke. The PR manager was still anxiously urging me. “Alex, if we don’t speak out now, our partners and investors will be flooded with calls!” I wearily waved him off, pushing the proposal aside. “No need.” My voice was chillingly calm. “Prepare a new notice.” I stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window. Downstairs, several media interview vans were already parked. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I hadn’t lost to Chloe Reed; I had lost to my own ridiculous trust. From today on, I, Alex Sterling, would only be a businessman. A businessman deals in profit, not sentiment. I picked up my phone and dialed my assistant’s internal line. “Notify all employees: tomorrow morning at 9 AM, everyone is to be in the main conference room for a meeting to discuss the final optimized plan for this year’s team building.” On the other end, my assistant’s voice was hesitant. “Alex, are you… are you going to compromise with them?” “No.” I looked out at the vultures of the media outside the window, enunciating each word. “It’s time for them to pay for their greed themselves.”

The next morning, the company’s main conference room was packed. The air hummed with barely suppressed excitement and anticipation. It didn’t feel like a crisis management meeting; it felt more like a victory celebration. Chloe Reed and Gary Thompson sat in the front row, surrounded by a cluster of younger colleagues. Gary boasted, spitting enthusiasm, “I told you, Alex can be swayed by persuasion, but not by force. As long as we stick together and make enough noise, he’ll definitely cave!” Chloe looked even more smug, even secretly starting a live stream on her phone. The live stream’s title was particularly jarring: “Fam, witness Gen Z cleaning up the workplace! This is how we snatched our benefits back from the corporate overlords!” At precisely nine o’clock, I walked into the conference room. All eyes immediately fixated on me—some with schadenfreude, others with anticipation. I walked to the front and bowed deeply. “I apologize.” A ripple went through the room, followed by a burst of enthusiastic applause. In Chloe’s live stream, the comments were instantly flooded with “Boss apologized!” and “Go, Gen Z!” I straightened up, scanning the smug, triumphant faces below. “Due to my personal stubbornness and outdated thinking, I overlooked the importance you place on personal time and caused significant distress. For that, I sincerely apologize.” The applause grew even louder. Gary Thompson even stood up and shouted, “It’s a good thing Alex can admit his mistakes and correct them!” Chloe, even more delighted, aimed her live stream at me, as if showing off her trophy. I waited for the applause to subside, then shifted my tone. “To fully restore freedom and choice to everyone, after an entire night of careful consideration, I have decided to implement a radical overhaul of this year’s team-building plan.” Everyone held their breath, eyes gleaming with greedy anticipation. I looked at them, and one by one, I announced my decisions. “First, effective immediately, AscendCorp will completely cancel all collective travel traditions that have been in place since the company’s founding.” A cheer instantly erupted in the conference room. Ignoring their reaction, I continued with the second decision. “Second, to compensate everyone and support your freedom to travel, the company will instead issue a $500 free-travel stipend to each active employee.” “This is our way of expressing the highest respect for your freedom!” Silence fell over the room. Chloe Reed’s phone, which was still live streaming, clattered to the floor, its screen shattering. From a lavish, all-expenses-paid trip to the Maldives worth thousands per person, it had plummeted to a paltry five-hundred-dollar stipend. The massive disparity simply short-circuited their brains. I added, expressionless, “This is the precious freedom you fought so hard for, even at the cost of damaging the company’s reputation. Now, you are free.” I connected my phone to the projector. On the screen was the real-time stock market candlestick chart for AscendCorp’s parent company, a stark, downward green line that was alarming. Beside it were pop-up alerts from major financial news outlets. “AscendCorp’s corporate culture questioned amid forced team-building controversy, stock plummets 15% at open!” Everyone’s expressions rapidly shifted from bewilderment and shock to unconcealed panic and despair. Their jobs, they realized, were about to be shattered by their own hands. Chloe Reed was the first to jump up, her voice sharp and shrill. “The team-building budget was thousands per person! Why is the free-travel stipend only $500? You’re so greedy!” I looked at her coldly. “Your public shaming threatened the company’s survival, causing the stock to crash and company funds to tighten. This is the direct consequence of your reckless actions.” My gaze swept across every pale, anxious face in the room. “We lost three hundred million dollars in market value in half a day. The board of directors has demanded that I purge the toxic elements causing this crisis within 24 hours. Otherwise, to cut costs and stabilize the stock price, the company will immediately initiate a 30% layoff plan.”

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When the plane was crashing, my husband, the pilot, stared at me and his mistress, a conflicted expression on his face. But I didn’t hesitate. I thrust the last parachute into their hands. In my previous life, after much deliberation, my husband had given the parachute to me, his pregnant wife. He stayed behind on the doomed plane, intending to commit a lover’s suicide with his mistress. Yet, their imagined shared death didn’t happen. His mistress died in the crash, but he miraculously survived. From then on, my husband stayed by my side every day, eagerly awaiting the birth of our child. I was overjoyed, but on the day our baby was just a month old, he suffocated her to death right in front of me: “If you hadn’t insisted on coming, there wouldn’t have been one less parachute on the plane.” “You killed my greatest love, and today, I’ll make you feel that same pain!” Overcome with grief, I died with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the plane crash.

“Attention passengers, please remain calm. Grab your life vests, no pushing or shoving!” That familiar voice pulled me back from the darkness. I didn’t rush to grab a life vest or parachute. Instead, my hands flew to my belly. My baby. Still safe and sound inside me. As I stood there, stunned, a hand tapped my shoulder. I looked up in surprise. It was Brenda, the chief flight attendant of this luxurious flight. She looked at my dazed face and rolled her eyes in disdain: “The captain said the passengers should evacuate first. As the captain’s wife, you’ll be among the last to evacuate with us.” I paused, then gave a different answer than I had in my previous life: “I’m just a regular passenger on this flight. Why should I take on the responsibilities of your crew?” Brenda’s lips curled into a sneer as she watched me: “Who doesn’t know you shamelessly tagged along just to keep an eye on Ms. Serena?” “You’re already pregnant, and still so jealous all the time. You took the seat that was meant for Ms. Serena, forcing her to squeeze into the cockpit. I might as well tell you now, there’s one less life vest on this plane.” With that, Brenda fastened her own equipment and continued checking on the other passengers’ preparations. I sat in my seat, a whirlwind of emotions inside me. I had actually been reborn back to this moment. In my previous life, my pilot husband, Liam, had also illegally brought his mistress, Serena, on board. But I had no idea; I was just coincidentally booked on this flight for a meeting in the same city. I’d bought the very last ticket at the last minute. So Serena, who’d boarded for free thanks to her connection with the captain, was reluctantly squeezed into the cockpit. But with an extra person on board, there was one less life vest. After the crash, I, completely oblivious, had intended to stay until the very end and die with Liam. But at the critical moment, Liam grit his teeth and handed me the last emergency kit. Facing my grateful tears, he’d said: “Eleanor, please raise our child alone. Tell him his dad was a hero.” He urged me to put on the life vest and strap on the parachute. However, the moment he pushed me out of the plane, I heard him whisper to his mistress, Serena: “My little Serena, we may not be able to live together, but to die together… isn’t that a form of happiness?” To my disappointment, Serena died in the crash, but Liam miraculously survived unharmed. But later, this man, who wanted me to tell our child he was a hero… Suffocated our month-old daughter right in front of me. The chilling memory made me tremble uncontrollably. He was the one who wanted to die with his mistress. He was the one who chose to save me. He, Liam, was the one who violated regulations, resulting in an extra person on board. So why, in the end, did my child have to pay for his mistress’s life?! My innocent baby, my innocent self. I just happened to buy the last ticket. Why did I end up like that? I shook uncontrollably with memories of the past. Brenda walked past me, sneering sarcastically: “Captain’s wife, huh? Look at you, trembling like that. You’re nothing compared to our Serena.”

I didn’t argue. I just raised a hand to wipe away a tear from my eye. She was right. In the eyes of all Liam’s friends and colleagues, I couldn’t hold a candle to Serena. Serena was once the most stunning flight attendant on their crew, and she certainly seemed a better match for a captain like Liam. But Serena was the one who left after snagging a rich businessman in First Class, which is why Liam ended up marrying me. Thinking about that, a sharp pain flared in my chest again. Maybe they’d both been sick of me being in the way, willing to die together rather than endure me for another day. As the plane violently shook, I gripped the armrest tightly, barely managing to steady myself. The screams grew more piercing, and the flight attendant’s announcement finally blared again: “The plane has descended to a suitable altitude. Passengers who have donned their equipment, please line up and evacuate in order.” I glanced back frantically, watching the main group jump out one by one. My fingernails dug slowly into my palms. Amidst the chaos, Liam’s voice sounded above my head: “Eleanor, who told you to come along?” “I already married you. What more do you want?” “It’s all because of you that there’s one less emergency kit on this plane! Tell me, what am I supposed to do now?!” That last sentence, Liam’s voice was hoarse and hesitant. It reminded me of my past life. Back then, I’d seen Serena, shielded by Liam, and instantly understood. I’d cried, demanding an explanation from him. But he gave me no explanation. He simply shoved the life vest onto me and pushed me out of the plane. Now, looking at the ‘perfect couple’ in front of me, all I felt was a bitter laugh. My husband, whom I’d loved and cared for with all my heart for so many years, now seemed so utterly pathetic. I decisively pulled out the last emergency kit and gently handed it to Liam: “If that’s what you think, then you wear this life vest.” “Liam, take your mistress and get out of here.” Liam looked utterly baffled: “Eleanor, what’s your game? Why are you suddenly so generous?” “Do you have some kind of scheme? What are you really trying to do?!” He shielded Serena firmly behind him, as if protecting a priceless treasure. It was as if I was handing him not a life vest, but a bomb that would kill his precious ‘first love’. Watching Liam’s surprised and angry gaze, I slowly shook my head: “This plane is about to crash, Liam. I’m giving you the last life vest so you can make up for not saving your mistress.” “So, in your eyes, that’s a scheme?” Liam stared fixedly at me, an emotion I couldn’t decipher swirling in his eyes. In the dead silence, Serena suddenly burst into tears: “My dearest Liam, I know it was wrong of me to board without a ticket, but now that Eleanor is willing to let us go, we should hurry.” “Eleanor was lucky to marry you, and besides, we’re soulmates, neither of us wants to escape alone. This is the best way…” Listening to Serena’s crying, Liam suddenly moved his gaze away from me as if he’d been shocked. His hands trembling slightly, he quickly helped Serena put on the life vest: “You’re right. Eleanor is lucky. She’ll be fine.” With that, Liam bent down and, completely ignoring me, meticulously checked Serena’s equipment. Once he was sure everything was in order, he wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Under my silent gaze, the two of them vanished before me.

The plane, once stable, was now like a tattered plastic bag swaying wildly as it plummeted. I pressed my lips together, gripping the seat beside me, and slowly moved into the cockpit. So the cockpit was this spacious. No wonder Serena loved hiding in here. Liam and I had been married for years, yet every time I suggested visiting the cockpit, he would always frown and refuse: “You’re not part of the crew, what right do you have to visit the cockpit?” “It’s full of important equipment. If you break something, do you think you can afford to pay for it?!” After being scolded so many times, I’d just given up. I never imagined that in this life, I’d actually have a chance to enter the cockpit, to enter Liam and Serena’s love nest. Fumbling my way into the pilot’s seat, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Right in front of this seat, there was a sticker. On it, Serena’s name. I’d only ever heard of boyfriends putting “girlfriend’s seat” stickers in their cars; today was truly an eye-opener. It turned out that, even at such close quarters, Liam had proudly displayed his love for Serena in the cockpit. I reached out, intending to peel off that glaring sticker, but as I got closer, I noticed a line of small text beneath it: “If we cannot live together, may we be buried together in death.” I suddenly felt an itch on my face. Reaching up, I wiped away a tear. It turned out they had already made vows of living and dying together. My heart felt dead. Through the front window, I watched the ocean getting closer and closer, then simply closed my eyes. In the darkness, I remembered many things. Liam and I, we weren’t deeply in love, but we were always respectful towards each other. That was until Serena was dumped and ran crying into Liam’s arms at the airport, just as he was changing shifts. She acted as if she couldn’t see my hand intertwined with Liam’s, wrapping her arms around his waist, tears streaming down her face. That was the first time I ever saw Serena. At that moment, Liam warily glanced at me, then, in front of everyone, quietly let go of my hand. I was furious, and I pulled Serena away from Liam. Liam’s face instantly darkened. He warned me not to disrupt him from comforting a colleague. That’s right, even though Serena was currently unemployed, in Liam’s words, she was a colleague who stood shoulder to shoulder with him. As captain, he would buy her breakfast, fix her light bulbs, and clear her clogged drains. And when she had her period, he would thoughtfully arrange for me to make her ginger and brown sugar tea. I couldn’t endure such humiliation and argued with Liam countless times. Yet each time, he would give me the same answer: “Serena is already so pitiful. Can’t you have some sympathy?” “You’ve already gotten what you wanted by marrying me. Do you really need to keep me on a leash every day to be satisfied?!” These scenes that once tore me apart now only felt absurd. I pressed my lips together, opened my eyes, and looked at the rapidly approaching sea, awaiting either death or a new beginning. After a deafening crash, the plane’s windows shattered under the enormous impact. Yet, those sharp fragments miraculously bypassed me, carried away by the water. Watching the shards of glass, swept by the waves, stab into my left side, my heart suddenly lurched. Serena had once, in a roundabout way, added me on SnapChat, and her profile signature was peculiar: “I am on your left, close to your heart.” No wonder Liam was unharmed in my previous life, while Serena died instantly. It was all because of their ridiculous vows of love. I was an excellent swimmer, but under such violent impact, I still choked on a lot of water. Coupled with the discomfort of my pregnancy, I ultimately couldn’t make it to shore. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a sterile white hospital room. Seeing me awake, the young nurse, Chloe, at my bedside offered a sweet smile: “Your condition isn’t good right now, so don’t rush to get up. I’ll go call the doctor!” She quickly walked out of the room, and before leaving, as if afraid I’d be bored, she specifically turned on the TV. The news channel was reporting on the plane crash from two days ago. However, as the reporter’s mouth moved, the report stated there were no casualties. My heart gave a violent jolt. No casualties? Then what was I? Perhaps I’d been unconscious for too long, but as soon as I sat up, I felt dizzy. As my vision blurred, the doctor rushed over and steadied me: “Are you alright? A fishing boat out at sea rescued you. Do you remember your family’s phone number? I’ll help you notify them.” I opened my mouth, and after a long moment, I gave Liam’s number. Not that I wanted to contact him, but he was indeed my last remaining family in the world. The doctor held his phone, gave me a sympathetic look, and put it on speaker. On the other end, Liam’s slightly hoarse voice came through: “Who is this?” Besides his voice, I vaguely heard a woman’s whining: “Liam, my foot still hurts so much.” Liam chuckled softly, seemingly picking up something: “You drama queen, why are you so clumsy? Let me put some medicine on it for you.” The doctor, listening to their flirtatious banter, rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, interrupting them: “You’re Liam, right? Your wife, Eleanor, is currently at Oceanside Hospital.” Immediately after, I heard Serena’s shriek, the sound of things crashing, and Liam’s horrified accusation: “The plane crashed, the fuel leaked, and it burned to ashes. Completely gone. And you’re telling me Eleanor is still alive?” “Who are you, and what’s your game?!”

I calmly took the phone from the doctor, whose face was growing increasingly grim, and spoke coldly: “He’s the doctor who saved my life.” “Liam, I’m not dead. Are you very disappointed?” Liam’s voice, previously full of accusations, suddenly caught in his throat. After a long silence, he nervously lowered his voice: “Eleanor, don’t tell anyone you’re alive yet.” “I… I need a favor from you. I’ll come find you later.” With that, Liam abruptly hung up. The doctor and nurse watched all this, speechless. Then they both pointed at the TV behind them: “Liam, your husband, is he *that* pilot from the crash?” “How could he leave his pregnant wife on a crashing plane, and he… how could he tell the rescue team that all the passengers safely escaped?” Yes, how could he tell the rescue team that all passengers had safely escaped? It turned out my husband not only shamelessly took the last life vest but also sealed off all my chances of survival! I lowered my eyes, my heart heavy with bitterness. My hands clenched into fists, but I didn’t know how to speak. Seeing my distress, the nurse realized she had said the wrong thing. She covered her mouth and helped me close the door to the room. I buried my face in the crisp white bedding and finally burst into tears. That afternoon, Liam didn’t come. Instead, Brenda, the chief flight attendant who had been so disdainful of me on the plane, arrived. She pushed the door open. Seeing my haggard face, a flicker of embarrassment crossed her features, but she still lowered her gaze and walked over, placing a pile of various health supplements on my bedside table: “Eleanor, Liam can’t get away right now, so he asked me to come check on you first.” I managed a faint smile, too tired to even lift my eyelids: “Is he busy accompanying Serena?” “What, in your crew’s eyes, am I—the pregnant woman who gave up her parachute and miscarried in a plane crash—still worth less than your former colleague?” Brenda kept her head down, not daring to meet my eyes. After a while, she suddenly tried to speak in a low voice: “Eleanor, you know, ever since Liam became captain, I’ve been his chief flight attendant. I watched him like he was my own younger brother.” “Now he’s… he’s committed a grave error, hiding your death…” “Because Serena wants to rejoin the crew. If it’s found out now that she boarded illegally, then…” Brenda’s voice trailed off, finally falling silent. I lifted my head and stared at her for a long time: “You knew it was Liam who illegally brought someone onto the plane, and you knew I suffered all this because of Serena.” “But now, you, as the chief flight attendant, a position second only to Liam on the plane, have come to persuade me… to persuade me to act like nothing happened, is that right?” Brenda, who had once been so proud and biased towards Serena over me, quietly listened to my questions, her head bowed deeply. She didn’t speak for a long time. Since she wasn’t speaking, I simply closed my eyes to rest. This chief flight attendant was a capable woman, and also Liam and Serena’s love bodyguard. Ever since Serena was dumped and returned, Liam always found excuses to go out. We often argued. Sometimes, when he was annoyed or too lazy to explain to me, he would push the blame onto Brenda: “I’m with Brenda.” “Brenda called for us to hang out, it’s rude not to go.” “It’s not just the two of us; Brenda is there too. She’s always fair and impartial, what’s there to worry about?” I thought about Liam’s past excuses and suddenly laughed aloud: “You know, whenever Liam went to meet Serena in secret, he always told me you were there too.” “He also said you were the most fair and impartial, and asked me what I had to worry about!”

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Slumped on the carpet, trying to snatch a moment of peace, I suddenly heard a sweet, innocent voice: [I’ve done so much for Mommy to stay pretty! Having to be held by such a messy woman every day – who even considers *my* feelings?!] I jolted upright, looking at my son lying next to me, sucking on his hand. Just as I wondered if exhaustion was making me hallucinate, the voice came again: [What are you staring at?! So annoying! If it weren’t for you taking care of me fairly well, I would’ve found a way to get Daddy to kick you out ages ago!] I pinched myself hard. The sharp pain proved the voice wasn’t my imagination. While I was still trying to process what those two sentences meant, the doorbell rang. The next second, my best friend, Chloe, opened the door and walked right in. Seeing her carrying multiple bags of baby supplies, I instinctively said, “I told you we have everything at home, why are you wasting money again?!” Chloe set her bags down and walked straight to the bathroom, clearly familiar with the layout. “What’s wrong with me spending a little money on my godson? Don’t be mad, there’s a dessert I picked up for you in one of the bags!” That distraction pushed the strange incident to the back of my mind for a moment. I rummaged through a bag and found a Black Forest cake. Just as I settled onto the couch, I heard that voice again: [Mommy, come hold me! I want to smell Mommy’s nice scent so badly!] My hand, poised to open the dessert, froze. I watched Chloe emerge from the bathroom, stride quickly to my son, and scoop him into her arms. “Oh, my little angel! You’re such a good boy today! Come give godmommy some snuggles!” After Chloe rubbed her cheek against his, Leo giggled nonstop. At the same time, I heard an impressed sigh: [Mommy’s skin is so smooth! Ugh, if only I wasn’t worried about Mommy working too hard, I’d want to be with her every single day!] I had no idea why I was suddenly hearing these thoughts. But those repeated calls of “Mommy,” clearly not directed at me, stirred a lot of questions. With that premise, I looked at Chloe and Leo together, and that’s when I started to notice things were off. It seemed every time Chloe was around, my usually hard-to-soothe son would smile much more often. Was it a coincidence? Or was my baby, who was still in diapers, doing this on purpose? “Chloe, anyone would think Leo was *your* son. Every time you come over, he acts like an angel. If he were always this easy, I wouldn’t be this wrecked.” I said it as a joke. Because I was watching Chloe closely, I didn’t miss the fleeting look of smugness in her eyes. “Maya, you can’t say that! Taking care of a baby is definitely tough, but hasn’t Leo brought you a lot of joy and a sense of accomplishment too?” A soft, childish voice immediately chimed in: **[You’re just the nanny my Mommy and Daddy carefully picked out! Know your place! It’s your privilege to take care of me!]** Chloe was focused on playing with Leo and didn’t notice my face fall as I sank into thought. During my pregnancy, I was swamped with work, which affected my unborn baby. Leo was not only premature but also a high-needs baby. When he was uncomfortable, someone had to hold him constantly. The moment you put him down, he’d fuss and whine non-stop. Wet or soiled diapers had to be changed immediately. Even a slight delay would send him into a full-blown tantrum. When it was bad, he’d cry until he held his breath. Because of Leo’s special needs, I went through three nannies during my postpartum recovery. Everyone said it was my fault for not being careful during pregnancy, causing my baby so much suffering. I was overwhelmed with guilt, and a few months after Leo was born, I finally made a decision. I changed my life plans. I quit my job and became a stay-at-home mom. Now, Leo was eight months old. Even with a nanny’s help, I was physically and mentally exhausted. After less than half a year of childcare, I felt like I’d aged ten years. I had no energy for dieting, no desire to dress up. Seeing me so disheveled, Julian rarely spoke to me, except when it concerned Leo. I was frustrated and hurt. But I simply had no strength to argue with him. Five months of selfless care. My marriage was in a deadlock. My health was deteriorating. And now, I was being told Leo might not even be *my* son? Where was my baby then? What about all the suffering and exhaustion I’d endured these past few months?

I fingered the wrapper of the cupcake in my hand. My heart was a mix of complex emotions. Twenty minutes ago, Chloe was the person I was most grateful for after giving birth. If she hadn’t come to see me every now and then, Helped me with the baby, and listened to my complaints about life’s hardships, I probably would have had a breakdown already. But the child I had painstakingly cared for was calling *her* Mommy? It was absurd. Thinking about it, I suddenly laughed out loud. “What happy thoughts are you having? Share them with me!” Chloe, with a smile playing on her lips, looked up. Our eyes met. Because of the doubts swirling in my mind, I scrutinizingly looked at Chloe and was stunned. I’d always known Chloe was attractive. But I only just realized. At some point, she had acquired an undeniable allure, a radiant glow I couldn’t quite place. I remembered Chloe saying she had been away for training during my pregnancy. I remembered that when Leo was a few months old, Chloe, who seemed a little fuller than I remembered, finally reappeared. Despite my unwillingness to admit it, the answer was already obvious. For a moment, I felt unsteady. “What are you spacing out about? You haven’t gone crazy from taking care of the baby, have you?” Chloe casually placed Leo onto the carpet. My gaze followed, and I instinctively held my breath. But Leo just started playing happily by himself. Completely different from his usual behavior, where he’d scream for at least ten minutes after being put down. I took a deep breath, and a wave of helplessness washed over me. The difference in treatment was so obvious. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? “Maya, what’s wrong? I’ve been talking to you for ages, why aren’t you responding?” There were still many unanswered questions, and I couldn’t alert her yet. I came up with a casual excuse to brush it off. Then I asked Chloe if she had time tomorrow. “If you need help with anything, you don’t need to be formal with me!” Seeing Chloe feign anger, I offered an apologetic smile. “My heart hasn’t been feeling right these past few days, and I want to get it checked out at the hospital. If you have time, could you watch Leo for me? I don’t trust the nanny to be alone with him.” Though I was almost certain, I still needed concrete results before deciding my next move. Until then, I couldn’t fully let go of Leo. So, if I left the house, I needed someone to watch him. My parents were traveling out of town these days. My in-laws had always held a grudge against me because of Leo’s health issues. To avoid arguments, unless Julian was home, we hadn’t even seen each other for months. And if Chloe really was Leo’s biological mother, Then she was undoubtedly the best person to care for him. Fortunately, Chloe agreed without hesitation. I’d seen online what you needed for a DNA testing. While chatting with Chloe, I pondered how I could get a sample from her. Suddenly, I remembered the diamond hairpin Chloe had complimented several times before. Chloe looked at me, confused, as I suddenly got up and walked to my walk-in closet. When I returned with a mirror, she asked, puzzled, “What are you doing?” I didn’t answer, just clipped the hairpin into her hair. Then I held up the mirror for her to see. “Don’t you like these hairpins? My hair has been falling out so much, I might never get to wear them again. It’d be a waste not to give them to you!” In the mirror, Chloe unconsciously touched her hair. A smile on her face, she retorted, “Your hair will grow back. Giving me such expensive hairpins, you’d be losing out!” I pretended the hairpin wasn’t placed right and used a little force to take it out. Chloe hissed, and I quickly apologized. “Oh, look at me! Holding the baby all the time has made my grip stronger! I accidentally pulled out a few of your hairs. Don’t be mad!” I plucked off the few strands of hair caught in the hairpin and casually tossed them into the nearby trash can. Chloe rubbed the top of her head and laughed, “Mad about what! This is the price of beauty!”

Not long after Chloe left, looking pleased with herself wearing the five-figure hairpin, Leo, tired from playing, fell asleep. When the nanny wasn’t looking, I retrieved the hairs I’d thrown into the trash can earlier. Perhaps I’d pulled them quite hard, as nearly every strand had a follicle attached. I put them into a small bag and labeled it. I also pulled a few strands of my own hair and put them into another bag. Leo’s hair was too fine; I couldn’t tell if it had follicles. I would have to wait until he woke up, trim his nails, and put them with his hair. Julian, home from work, listened as I told him I was going to the hospital for a check-up. Unusually, he showed some concern. “If you’re really too tired, hire another nanny, or have both our moms take turns helping out. Don’t try to handle everything alone.” I took a sip of water, trying to hide the bitterness that rose in my chest after hearing his words. If I hadn’t developed a strong will from my previous job, These past few months would have utterly destroyed my spirit. If not for that strange experience today, Suddenly hearing Julian’s comfort might have made me so emotional I’d burst into tears. But now, thinking of Leo calling him “Daddy” and Chloe “Mommy,” My heart was heavy. To avoid disturbing Julian’s sleep and affecting his work the next day, We had been sleeping in separate rooms since Leo was born. Because I said my heart wasn’t feeling well, Julian, for the first time, offered to take care of Leo for the night. The next morning, a refreshed Julian placed Leo in my arms. “This kid is really considerate. I told him he couldn’t throw tantrums at night, or Daddy wouldn’t have the energy for work the next day, and he really slept through the entire night!” I forced a smile, looking down to meet Leo’s wide-eyed gaze. Then, that voice appeared again: **[Of course, I’d be considerate to my Daddy! As for you, the nanny, I want to torment you! It’s all because of you that Mommy can’t live with us!]** Before the nanny could clean the room, I thoroughly searched every inch of where Julian had slept. Chloe arrived early. After I briefly explained a few things, I left the house alone. Breathing the fresh air outside, For a moment, I felt a little disoriented. How long had it been since I truly looked at the sky? How long had it been since I genuinely felt the sun on my skin? Just one baby. And I felt like I couldn’t even control my own life anymore. I knew a friend who worked at a DNA testing agency. To get the results as quickly as possible, I paid a little extra. Perhaps accustomed to my situation, My friend didn’t ask any questions. He personally oversaw the process with the samples. Learning that the results wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow at the earliest, I turned and went to the hospital. My heart really wasn’t feeling right. Over these past few months, the longest I’d slept was less than three hours. Anxiety, stress, huge clumps of hair falling out. Every day I woke up to the sound of my baby crying. My dreams were filled with his discontented wails. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d be like now if I didn’t have a nanny helping with the housework. And lending a hand when I couldn’t manage. “Your myocardial ischemia is quite serious. You need to adjust your routine immediately. If you let it continue, you’re at high risk of sudden death!” Back home, Chloe was holding Leo and watching TV. After I repeated what the doctor said, Chloe was silent for a long time. “Maya, let’s find someone else to help out. I’ll also come to visit you often. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

When Julian returned, he held my diagnostic report and read it for a long time. Before bed, I heard him make a call to his mother, Mrs. Miller. The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Miller, carrying their luggage, rang the doorbell. It wasn’t Julian’s time to leave for work yet, so he gave his parents many instructions. After Julian left, Mrs. Miller, for once, didn’t give me the cold shoulder. “Maya, go get some more sleep. Your dad and I have discussed it; we’ll help watch Leo this month. If you think we do a good job, we can continue. If you’re not satisfied, we can switch with your parents to help you. We’ll learn and improve together; we won’t let you bear this burden alone like before!” This entire morning, Leo was on his best behavior for his grandparents, just like he was with Chloe. While I caught up on sleep, he only cried once. Completely different from when I was taking care of him myself. While using the restroom, I overheard my in-laws talking in the study. “Our grandson isn’t as difficult as Maya makes him out to be. Don’t you think she just doesn’t know how to take care of a baby, which is why she’s so exhausted?” Mr. Miller told Mrs. Miller to say less, and since they were here, they should just help properly. But Mrs. Miller clearly wasn’t done talking. “Is her check-up report real? Our son isn’t being tricked by her, is he? Maya is ambitious, which is good, but if she’s playing tricks to get back to work, I won’t forgive her!” I quietly returned to my room. I picked up my phone, wanting to ask my friend when the DNA test results would be ready. As I was typing, my friend sent me a link: **[Maya, the baby isn’t yours, but he’s biologically related to the owners of the other two samples.]** My heart, which had been in my throat for over twenty hours, plummeted to my stomach. My hands trembling, I clicked the link. I read the conclusions of all three reports countless times. The names on the samples were my handwriting. And my friend had always been meticulous in his work since childhood. With him overseeing the entire process, there was no way the samples could have been mixed up. So, my husband of many years was actually involved with my best friend, whom I’d known since childhood. And I, like a fool, had given up my promising career. I sacrificed my health and well-being to raise *their* child! Where was *my* baby then? In the months I exhausted myself caring for Leo, was my child well-fed and warm? My child. Was she even alive? When grief reaches its peak, even tears are silent. I pounded my chest repeatedly, tears streaming down my face. After nearly half an hour of crying, I called a few friends. At the same time, I also called the police. When I came out of the room, Mrs. Miller, who had been about to say something upon seeing my swollen eyes, closed her mouth again. She shot a look at Mr. Miller. Then she sat next to me, holding Leo. “Maya, look how well-behaved Leo has been all morning. Come hold him.” The moment my eyes met Leo’s, his thoughts automatically echoed in my ears: **[If you dare touch me, I’ll scream my head off! I love seeing you helpless!]** I pretended to hear nothing, staring blankly into space. My friends arrived quickly. Seeing so many people suddenly show up, My in-laws were confused, but they still bustled about, pouring water for everyone. But when Julian, who should have been at the office, walked in, Mrs. Miller looked displeased. “Maya, it’s not a big deal. Why did you have to call Julian back at a time like this?” As she complained, someone else rang the doorbell. Upon seeing the police, everyone’s expressions varied, except for my friends. “Not only did you call all these people, but you also called the police. What are you trying to do?” Looking at Julian, his face filled with anger, I finally spoke, slowly and deliberately. “Where is my child? The child *I* gave birth to, where did you take her?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299204”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic