In our circle, Bob Bright and I were the golden couple, the one everyone knew was meant to be. But one month before our wedding, he called it off. He was going to marry Amy Reed, a scholarship student my parents had sponsored. When I confronted him, his excuse was pathetic. “If I don’t marry her, she’ll be forced to marry that paraplegic her family arranged for her.” He had the audacity to look at me with pleading eyes. “Sienna, you’ve always been the kindest person I know. You understand, don’t you?” “Fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I agree.” Relief washed over his face. Bob leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then pulled me into a hug. “I knew you would. Don’t worry, Sienna. As soon as this is all over, I’ll divorce her and come back to you.” I gently pushed him away, wiping the lingering dampness from my skin, and pulled an invitation from my pocket. He took it, his smile bright until he read the names engraved on the card. Then, his face froze. 1. “Sienna Williams… what… what is this?” “It’s written right there,” I said, my expression unreadable. I offered no explanation. He flipped the invitation over and over, his confusion turning to a cold sneer. “Is this a joke, Sienna? It’s not funny.” “Very convincing performance,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Scheduling your fake wedding for the same day as mine. And to Damian Thorne, of all people.” “I know you’re still angry with me, but I’ve been perfectly clear. I’m just helping Amy out of a jam, and then it’s over. Is it really so hard for you to show a little understanding?” Just as he finished his rant, a soft knock came at the door. Amy entered, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “Bob,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Maybe… maybe we should just forget it. It’s okay if I have to marry him… It’s just that… I…” A wave of pity crossed Bob’s face. He moved to her side, patting her back gently. “Don’t even think that,” he soothed, his voice impossibly tender. “I promised I would help you, and I will.” I had no interest in watching this melodrama unfold. I had delivered the invitation, but I had one last piece of business at his company. I walked around them and out of the office. “Sienna, where are you going?” Bob called after me. I didn’t answer. I could hear Amy’s soft, wounded voice behind me, followed by Bob’s hushed murmurs of comfort. He wasn’t coming after me. Even though I had already made my decision to let him go, the reality of it still stung. Bob and I had grown up together, our friendship seamlessly blossoming into love. Our families were close, and they had started planning our wedding the moment we were old enough. But Bob was fiercely ambitious. For years, he’d used his company’s growth as an excuse to postpone our marriage. At first, I was his biggest supporter. I even put my own family’s business on the back burner to come and help him build his empire. Everyone in our circle envied us. We were the couple they all wanted to be. Until Amy showed up. My parents had sponsored her after a near-accident on the way to the airport. They saw how hardworking and honest she seemed, and her family was genuinely struggling. They never imagined they were funding a viper. After graduating, she got a job at Bob’s company. They didn’t interact much at first, not until she came to our house one evening to borrow money from my parents. Her father, she claimed, had a medical emergency. Bob overheard and, without a second thought, gave her the cash. Soon after, he promoted her to be his personal secretary. As they spent more time together, I noticed their relationship growing closer, more intimate. They started spending time alone, without me. I remember at the company’s annual gala not long ago, Amy was plastered to Bob’s side, laughing at something he’d said. I stepped in. “We’re engaged, Bob,” I reminded him quietly. “If people see you this close to Amy, the gossip will make it impossible for her to find a boyfriend later on.” Amy looked up at me, her face a mask of wounded innocence. “Sienna, I know you’re Bob’s fiancée. But I’m his secretary. We have a purely professional, friendly relationship. How could you think something so… sordid?” Purely friendly? Anyone with eyes could see she was playing a game. But Bob, instead of creating distance, turned on me. “Sienna, why do you always have to make things so ugly?” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how hard Amy has been working? She just got this promotion, and people are already trying to sabotage her. I was just offering some support. Is that a problem?” He shot me a look of pure annoyance. “If our families hadn’t arranged our engagement, did you really think I would have chosen to marry you?” I froze, watching them walk away together. In that moment, I knew it was over. The sweet nothings he used to whisper in my ear were just echoes now. The adoration that once filled his eyes was now reserved for someone else. I could hear the whispers of the other guests. “What’s Bob Bright doing with that little secretary? Isn’t he about to marry Sienna Williams?” “Are you blind? Who could put up with Sienna’s temper? The secretary is so sweet and gentle.” “But their engagement is public knowledge. The Williams family promised an entire subsidiary company as a dowry.” “If he calls it off, the Williams will be completely humiliated.” Even strangers could see the writing on the wall. I’m sure Bob could too. The simple truth was, he didn’t love me anymore. And now, I was fine with that. I dropped off my resignation letter with HR and headed for the elevator. As I passed the emergency exit, I heard voices from behind the door. Through the small glass window, I saw them. Amy was nestled in Bob’s arms, gazing at him with pure adoration. The look he gave her back was anything but innocent. She tilted her head up, offering her lips. Bob’s eyes glazed over. For a second, a flicker of reason seemed to hold him back, and he pushed her away slightly. “Amy, we can’t… we…” But before he could finish, her mouth was on his. He resisted for a moment, then melted into the kiss, pulling her closer. They clung to each other like two parched travelers finding an oasis. “Oh, Bob,” she breathed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t control myself. I love you so much. I only wish I’d met you sooner.” “Amy, I…” I didn’t need to hear the rest. I glanced down at the ring on my finger, the one Bob had made himself when he proposed on my eighteenth birthday. It meant nothing now. I slipped it off and dropped it into the trash can by the elevator. The doors opened, and I turned to find Bob standing there, his eyes blazing with anger. “Sienna, did you just quit?” I shot him a sidelong glance and jabbed the ‘close door’ button. He lunged forward, squeezing in just before the doors shut. “The company is in a critical growth phase! It’s almost the end of the year, where am I supposed to find a replacement on such short notice?” “You have Amy, don’t you?” I said coolly. He had praised her work ethic to me more than once. Now was her chance to shine. An uncomfortable look flashed across his face. “Amy’s capable, yes, but the company still needs you,” he said after a pause. “Are you still mad? Sienna, I’ve told you a dozen times, I’m only marrying her to fool her parents. I swear, the moment it’s resolved, I’ll divorce her.” I was tired of hearing it. Ding. The elevator arrived at the underground parking garage. I strode out, quickening my pace. Bob hurried after me, but I was faster. I reached my car, unlocked it, and slid inside, pulling away just as he reached for the handle. “Sienna Williams, you’ll regret this!” he shouted after me. “Do you think the Williams family can maintain its standing without me?” My parents had worked themselves to the bone for years, but now they were older, and the company was struggling. Bob had been using that as leverage, holding it over my head again and again. He seemed to forget that if I hadn’t joined his company to save it from the brink of collapse, I would have taken over my own family’s business years ago. It was the Bright Corporation that had been failing before I stepped in. After I officially took over Williams Industries, I was busier than ever, with no time to even think about Bob. Until a party brought us all back into the same room. I rarely attended such events, but as the new CEO, I needed to network. Unsurprisingly, Bob and Amy were there. While Bob was busy charming some heiresses, Amy sidled up to me. “So what if you grew up with him, Sienna?” she sneered. “In the end, he’s marrying me.” With that, she “tripped,” sending her glass of red wine splashing all over her own dress. The glass shattered on the floor. Right on cue, Bob appeared, gently brushing shards of glass from her clothes. Amy shot me a triumphant look before turning her tear-filled eyes to Bob. “Bob, don’t blame Sienna. I’m sure she didn’t mean to do it.” Bob glared at me, his face a mask of fury. “Haven’t you had enough, Sienna? Are you still playing these childish games? Do you think this is going to win me back? I’m warning you, if you ever lay a hand on Amy again, I won’t care about the history between our families.” I laughed. I walked toward them, my eyes locked on his. “Lay a hand on her?” I said, my voice dangerously low as I stopped in front of Amy. “Watch closely. This is laying a hand on her.” I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. “Do you see the difference now?” I asked, my voice ringing with cold finality. “Consider that my wedding gift. A long and happy life to you both.” Bob stood there, stunned into silence, long after I had walked away. The next day, I went directly to the city’s most exclusive bridal couture and jewelry designer. Because Bob had always been “too busy,” I had handled all the wedding preparations myself. To protect his fragile ego, I had even commissioned a magnificent heirloom-style tiara. And because I had a fondness for historical fashion, I had a custom, hand-embroidered gown made. Now that the wedding was off, I was here to reclaim my things. The boutique owner looked deeply uncomfortable. “Mr. Bright already picked up the gown and the tiara,” she stammered. “He had the order form… we assumed you were too busy and had sent him…” Of course. He chose this exact moment to collect them. His intentions were obvious. I could write off the gown as a loss, but the tiara was non-negotiable. It was set with a priceless, heirloom Williams family sapphire, a stone that was literally irreplaceable. I called him. His response was a thinly veiled threat. “You want the tiara back? Fine. But you know that project your parents just partnered with us on? There seem to be some… complications.” He was threatening me. I let out a cold laugh. His tone softened. “Sienna, it’s not like you need this one tiara. When we get married, I’ll have a new one made for you. Just let Amy have this one. I just want her to have a respectable wedding.” This time, his sheer nerve actually made me laugh out loud. Hearing my silence, he pressed on. “Sienna, our wedding is just around the corner. If you’d like to come…” “No, thank you,” I cut in. “I don’t think I’ll have the time.” “Busy with what?” he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. “My parents are planning my wedding,” I said calmly. “Oh. I see. Well, that’s for the best,” he said, misinterpreting completely. “You always were the thoughtful one. Okay, I’ll adjust the wedding schedule accordingly.” Before I could correct him, he hung up. It didn’t matter. There was only one thing on my mind: getting that sapphire back. And I knew just the people to handle it. Our weddings were set for the same day. Early that morning, a procession of hundreds of luxury cars snaked through the city streets, heading for my family’s estate. The route took us directly past the hotel where Bob and Amy were getting married. As our fleet of Rolls-Royces and Bentleys glided by, I saw her. Amy, stepping out of her wedding car, wearing my custom gown and… my family’s sapphire tiara. She was nestled against Bob’s side, beaming, soaking in the envy of the crowd. But in the next second, the triumphant smiles on both their faces froze.

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When tabloids exposed Marcus Sterling’s affair with a college student, I brushed it off. As his wife—the woman he pursued for seven years—I trusted him completely. Then, a pregnant girl showed up at our son’s birthday party, and I became the joke of New York’s elite. Marcus begged forgiveness, blaming alcohol and vowing to handle it. I believed him—until five years later, at a spa, I overheard a young woman in the next room complain about postpartum changes, then coo into the phone: “Marcus, if I hadn’t had your baby… I don’t want money—I want you to leave your wife!” My hand froze on the doorknob. By the time I regained composure, I was already filing for divorce. He wouldn’t need to leave me—I was already gone. … The moment I clicked “confirm,” my phone rang. It was Marcus. “Audrey,” he said, his voice casual, almost bored. “Something’s come up. I won’t be home tonight.” I touched my face, tracing the faint pinpricks from the countless injections I’d endured. All for him. Because he once said, “Audrey, a woman’s skin starts to go after thirty. I love the feel of an eighteen-year-old.” So I, a woman who wouldn’t even pierce her ears, subjected myself to needles to please him. And all the while, he had another child with another woman. “Okay,” I said. My calm reply seemed to catch him off guard. He was about to say something else, but I hung up. Then, I sent him a photo of the woman from the spa. Her name was Chloe. “See you at the courthouse,” I texted. Less than half an hour later, he was home. He didn’t look like he did the first time I caught him—there was no guilt in his eyes, no fear. He just calmly lit a cigarette. Then, he opened the door behind him. A small figure came running out. “Mommy!” I glared at Marcus, the words I wanted to scream caught in my throat. He grinned, a smug, infuriating look on his face as he swung our son, Leo, into the air. “Leo, what do you say we have a family fun day today?” “Yay! Fun day!” I knew what he was doing. He was using our son to threaten me. Just like five years ago, when Leo overheard us talking about divorce and had an epileptic seizure. He was convulsing on the floor, his little hand still clutching my clothes, gasping, “Mommy… don’t… divorce… Daddy… please…” The memory was like a knife in my heart. For my son, I had given in. But as we were about to leave, an unexpected guest arrived. Chloe, her eyes red-rimmed, was standing at our door, holding the hand of a little boy. Without a word, she dropped to her knees before me. “Audrey, please,” she begged. “Just give him back to me. It’s Ben’s birthday. He needs his father.” The little boy, Ben, burst into tears. “I want my daddy! I want my daddy!” Leo, whose hand was in mine, went rigid. The color drained from his face. I turned to look at Marcus. I saw a flicker of indecision in his eyes. My heart pounded. I reached for him. But in the next second, he took a definitive step to Chloe’s side. “I’m sorry, Audrey,” he said. “Not today. We’ll do it another time.” A roar filled my ears, and something inside me snapped. After that first humiliating scene five years ago, Leo had been mercilessly bullied at school. Kids would point at him, calling him a bastard, a boy with no father. The torment had driven him to the brink of suicide. I had found him on the ledge of our balcony, and it was only my own hysterical, desperate pleading that had brought him back down. Afterward, Marcus had sent me expensive jewelry and designer bags as an apology. But what good was money when all of New York knew the price my son and I had paid for it? “Marcus Sterling,” I said, my voice shaking with rage, “if you walk out that door, my son and I are truly done with you.” He met my blazing eyes, and for a moment, I saw a flash of fear. But then Chloe grabbed Ben and darted toward the busy street. “What’s the point of living anyway!” she shrieked. “To be bullied like this? We might as well be dead!” Marcus’s face contorted in terror. He shoved me aside and sprinted into traffic after her. I fell backward, my head cracking against the stone steps. Blood streamed down my face, hot and sticky. Leo burst into tears, trying to press his little jacket against the wound. Then he turned and ran after his father. “Daddy, Mommy’s hurt! We have to take her to the hospital!” His small body was no match for Marcus, who was busy cradling Chloe in his arms, his face a mask of irritation. Suddenly, the other boy, Ben, started to cry. Chloe held up his arm, showing a faint red mark. “Why did you pinch him?” she screamed at Leo. “He’s just a child! What do you two want from us? If you want to hurt someone, hurt me!” She started slapping her own face, over and over. Marcus, seeing this, lost his mind. His hand flew out and connected with our son’s cheek with a sickening crack. “You’re just like your mother!” he snarled. “Completely spoiled!” He pulled out his phone. “The Garrison disciplinary camp? Yes, I have an unruly child for you. Come and get him. Immediately.” Leo crumpled to the ground, his hand on his swollen cheek, staring at his father as if in a trance. “It wasn’t me,” he whispered. “I didn’t pinch him…” My world dissolved into pain. I scrambled to my feet and threw myself in front of my son. “How dare you hit him! How dare you accuse him of something he didn’t do!” But Marcus only had eyes for Chloe and her son. He didn’t even glance at me. A van screeched to a halt beside us. It was from the camp—a notoriously brutal institution known for physical abuse, where a student had committed suicide just last year. My sweet, gentle boy did not deserve to be sent to a place like that. I spread my arms, shielding Leo. “Get away from him!” I screamed, feeling like a wild animal. “I’ll die before I let you take him!” Marcus’s gaze fell on the gash on my forehead, and for a second, his expression softened. But Chloe, with tears streaming down her face, pleaded, “Audrey, you’re only hurting him more! He’s misbehaving, and you’re stopping him from getting the discipline he needs!” That was all it took. Marcus’s resolve hardened. He grabbed me and threw me aside, letting the large, rough-looking men drag my son into the van. “Mommy! Mommy, save me!” Leo’s screams tore through me. He reached for me as I scrambled after the van, only to trip and fall hard onto the pavement. To the onlookers, I was the villain. They saw a man protecting a crying woman and her child from a screaming hysteric. They saw a mistress making a scene. Phones came out, recording my broken sobs. “Look at her, no shame. The other woman, and she’s the one crying.” “She’s psycho. Someone should call the cops and have her locked up.” … I sat there, numb, as their insults rained down on me. In the distance, Chloe was nestled against Marcus like a delicate bird, her eyes filled with contempt. Her lips formed a single, silent word. Pathetic. A flicker of pity crossed Marcus’s face, and he started to reach for me. But Chloe slumped against him. “Marcus,” she whimpered, “my head hurts.” He immediately turned his attention back to her, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to his car. As they drove past, Chloe shot me a look of pure triumph. At this point, who even cared? I went home. I packed. I hired private security. All that was left was to rescue my son. But at midnight, Marcus, who I had assumed would be gone for the night, walked in. He was drunk. He grabbed my chin, his grip tight. “Audrey, what’s with the long face?” he slurred. “I’ll keep Chloe and Ben set up somewhere else. They’re not a threat to you. Why can’t you just compromise a little?” Compromise? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I had compromised five years ago. And where did it get me? He had a whole other family. On her social media, Chloe had just posted a picture of the three of them celebrating a birthday, their backs to the camera. Meanwhile, my son was trapped in that cold, cruel camp. Marcus’s hand moved to my cheek, his eyes still holding a familiar trace of desire. “Audrey, let’s have another baby. A daughter. Once you have both a son and a daughter, you won’t want to leave me.” He pushed me down onto the bed, his hot hand sliding up my thigh. I slapped him. Hard. He froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you crazy?” I shoved him off me and threw the divorce papers I’d prepared onto the bed. “I want a divorce.” His parents had never thought I was good enough for him anyway. Now that he was a cheater, there was no reason to continue this sham. His face turned ugly. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe he’d finally had enough of me. For the first time, he didn’t try to talk me out of it. “You’re sure?” “Positive.” His eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed a pen and signed his name with a vicious slash. “Audrey Sterling,” he growled, “don’t come crawling back to me.” I didn’t bother to reply. I just took the papers, grabbed my bags, and walked out the door. The next morning, I sent the security team into the camp. Ex-special forces are efficient. They had Leo in less than ten minutes. In just one day, he looked like he had been through hell. His eyes were vacant; he didn’t even call me ‘Mom.’ My heart shattered. I rushed him to the car, desperate to get him to a hospital. But as we pulled away, a black SUV cut us off. Marcus and Chloe got out. “Get out of the way!” I screamed. “I have to get Leo to a hospital! You—” Before I could finish, Chloe dropped to her knees, sobbing. “Audrey, please, give me back my son! I can’t live without Ben! I’m begging you!” She started slamming her forehead against the pavement. I stared at her, horrified. “What are you talking about? What does Ben’s disappearance have to do with me?” “Audrey!” Marcus roared. “You’re still lying? You hired men to break into a school! What else are you capable of?” I felt a stabbing pain in my chest. He was attacking me over his mistress’s child, without even noticing the state of his own son. Leo started trembling, his face growing paler by the second. I knew I couldn’t wait. I scooped him up and tried to get back in the car. But Marcus, his eyes dark with suspicion, snatched Leo from my arms. “I’m asking you one last time, Audrey,” he said, his face a mask of cold fury. “Where is Ben?” Tears streamed down my face as I saw how roughly he was holding our son. “I don’t have him!” I cried. “We’ve been together for ten years! Is this really what you think of me?”

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It was the annual company barbecue. I took a bite of the vegetable salad, drenched in some kind of creamy dressing. A second later, my lips started to tingle. My throat swelled shut, and I couldn’t breathe. Realizing it was an allergic reaction, I shoved my phone at my boyfriend, Liam. “Call 911.” Liam took the phone. He unlocked it, then handed it to his intern, Mia. “You do it. My hands are shaking.” Mia took the phone and swiped across the screen a few times. A moment passed. She sent a link to a handbag to Liam. “Liam, what do you think of this one?” By now, I couldn’t speak at all, only a choked, gurgling sound escaping my throat. Liam studied the picture of the bag intently. “The color’s not right for you.” He took the phone back and opened the camera, pointing it at my swollen, disfigured face. Mia leaned in for a look. “Liam, stop. Rachel doesn’t look good like this.” 1 With Mia’s words, Liam put his phone away, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he looked at me. “Rachel, did you just eat something bad?” he snapped, impatience lacing his voice. “Don’t scare Mia. You know how sensitive she is.” I shook my head frantically, forcing a ragged hiss of air from my constricted throat. I raised a hand, pointing desperately at my backpack. My life-saving medicine was in there. My EpiPen. Liam completely misunderstood. His expression soured. “What the hell are you trying to do?” he demanded. “Can’t you just use your words? What’s with all the pointing?” Our colleagues started to gather around us, murmuring and pointing. “Hey, what’s wrong with Rachel?” “Her face is swollen up like a balloon. Is it an allergic reaction?” “God, that looks terrifying.” Amid the chatter, Mia suddenly burst into tears with a loud “wah.” She threw herself into Liam’s arms, her shoulders shaking. “Liam, did I do something wrong?” she sobbed. “Is Rachel mad because I was showing you that bag? Does she think I was trying to stop you from calling for help?” Liam immediately wrapped his arms around her, patting her back soothingly. “It’s not your fault, Mia,” he murmured. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He turned to glare at me, his eyes filled with resentment. “She’s just throwing another one of her princess tantrums, trying to make everyone pay attention to her. Just ignore her. We’re not getting involved.” Black spots danced in my vision as my consciousness began to fade. With the last ounce of my strength, I crawled toward my backpack. My fingertips were just about to touch the zipper when a polished leather shoe stomped down hard on the back of my hand. Pain shot up my arm, but I couldn’t even scream. He loomed over me, his voice dripping with contempt. “Rachel, have you made enough of a scene? Are you happy now that the whole company is laughing at you?” From behind him, Mia peeked out, tears still glistening on her cheeks, but her eyes held a triumphant, vicious glint. She leaned closer, her voice a soft whisper only the three of us could hear. “Rachel, did you like the peanut sauce? I went to three different stores to find that special extra-rich blend, just for you.” My world narrowed to a pinpoint. I forced my other hand up, pointing a trembling finger at Mia’s innocent-looking face, trying to show Liam the truth. Seeing my gesture, Liam’s face darkened. He shoved me away forcefully. “Now you’re trying to hit her? Rachel, stop bullying Mia! She’s timid, don’t you dare scare her!” The surrounding colleagues immediately jumped to his defense, their words a torrent of condemnation. “Yeah, Rachel, you’re going way too far.” “Mia’s just a new intern. She’s so sweet and fragile, how could you be so mean to her?” “Liam, your girlfriend has a serious attitude problem. You really need to get her under control.” My breathing grew faint, my vision blurring into a meaningless smear of color. I had been with Liam for two years. He always thought I was just an ordinary girl. Today’s barbecue was supposed to be my final test for him before I decided to marry him. Through the last slivers of light, I saw Liam holding a weeping Mia, gently wiping the tears from her face. Finally, someone in the crowd noticed something was truly wrong. “I think she’s really in trouble! Look, her lips are turning blue!” “Quick! Someone call an ambulance!” In the ensuing chaos, someone finally remembered to dial 911. I collapsed onto the ground, my body beginning to convulse uncontrollably. As all eyes were on me, Mia subtly hooked my backpack with the tip of her foot, sending it sliding several feet away. My life-saving EpiPen rolled out, landing right underneath the scorching hot grill. No one noticed. Liam crouched down, patting my bloated cheek with a show of false concern, his voice sharp with irritation. “Rachel, stop faking it. It’s getting old. The ambulance is on its way, what more do you want? Everyone’s watching. If you keep this up, I’m going to get really angry.” My consciousness sank into an endless darkness. In the distance, I could hear the faint wail of a siren growing closer. Liam was still cooing at the girl in his arms, his voice dripping with affection. “Don’t be scared. She’s fine. She just loves to make a big deal out of nothing.” 2 “Patient is in critical condition! Move! Make way!” “Where’s the family? We need someone to ride with us to the hospital!” The paramedics’ voices echoed around me. I felt myself being lifted onto a stretcher by a flurry of hands. Liam raised his hand slightly. “I’m her boyfriend. We’ll go with you.” But the moment he climbed into the ambulance, he sat down next to Mia, not even sparing me a single glance. He pulled the still-sniffling girl into his arms, letting her rest her head against his chest. Mia trembled in his embrace. “Liam, I’m so scared,” she whimpered. “Rachel… is she going to die? If she dies, is it all my fault? Will the police arrest me?” Liam stroked her back, his brow creased with concern. “Don’t be ridiculous. It has nothing to do with you,” he said, his tone firm. “It’s her own fault for having such a weak constitution. Always having some reaction. Who even knows what she’s allergic to? She’s always so damn dramatic.” A paramedic, busy fitting an oxygen mask over my face, turned to ask Liam, “Does the patient have a history of allergies? Was she exposed to anything unusual?” Without looking up, Liam kept his eyes fixed on Mia. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure. She’s usually perfectly healthy. Nothing like this has ever happened before.” I struggled to open my mouth, to tell the doctor it was peanuts. He knew. He always knew I was allergic to peanuts. A memory surfaced—a company dinner from when we first started dating. A plate of Kung Pao chicken was set in front of me. He had meticulously picked out every single peanut with his chopsticks. “My Rachel could die from eating peanuts,” he’d said to everyone at the table. “I have to watch out for her.” A sharp-eyed nurse noticed my distress. She quickly grabbed my dirt-smudged backpack and started rummaging through it. In a moment, she pulled out a medical information card. “Found it! Severe peanut allergy!” She looked up, her voice sharp as she questioned Liam. “If it’s a severe allergy, why wasn’t her emergency medication used? Her bag should contain an adrenaline auto-injector!” Liam finally glanced over, his expression one of pure, innocent confusion. “What medication? What injector? I don’t know anything about that. She never told me.” Mia immediately lifted her head from his chest, rushing to explain. “Rachel was pointing at her bag earlier. I thought she wanted a tissue or something. I had no idea it was for medicine.” As she spoke, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. I honestly didn’t know it was life-saving medicine, or I would have gotten it for her right away.” Liam instantly defended her. “How could you be blamed? We’re not doctors. How were we supposed to know? Don’t cry, Mia. You’re not as pretty when you cry.” The ambulance sped through the city. I could feel my life slipping away. And my boyfriend, not six feet from me, had pulled out his phone. He was scrolling through funny short videos, holding the screen up for Mia. “Look at this one. This cat is so dumb. Isn’t that hilarious?” The paramedics were inserting an IV, pushing antihistamines into my veins. And my boyfriend was whispering sweet nothings to another woman. Just then, Mia suddenly stood up, swaying with the motion of the vehicle. “Oops, I was just going to grab a bottle of water.” She stretched out her arm, pretending to reach for a water bottle in the corner. As the ambulance braked suddenly, she lost her balance, and her hand slammed hard against my oxygen mask. The mask flew off, landing beside me. My already shallow breathing stopped completely. The monitor beside me shrieked as my oxygen saturation plummeted. “What are you doing?!” the nurse screamed, shoving Mia away as she scrambled to replace my mask. Mia covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with feigned horror. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to! The ride is so bumpy, I just lost my footing.” Liam pulled her back into his arms. “It’s okay, don’t be scared. It wasn’t your fault.” He turned to the nurse. “It was a bumpy ride, that’s all. Why are you yelling at her?” The nurse was so furious at his attitude that she was speechless, managing only to shoot them a venomous glare. “Both of you sit down and don’t move again!” The ambulance finally arrived at the hospital. I was wheeled rapidly into the emergency room. Just as the doors swung shut, I heard Mia rub her stomach and say in a delicate voice, “Liam, all that stress made me hungry. My tummy’s rumbling.” Liam immediately pulled out his phone. “What do you want? Hot pot? Barbecue? I’ll order us something right now.” 3 “The patient has severe laryngeal edema, her airway is closing! We need to perform an emergency tracheotomy, now!” “Another few minutes and she could suffer irreversible brain damage, or even die! We need a signature from the family, right now!” A doctor burst out of the ER, holding a critical condition notice and a surgical consent form. Liam casually took the pen but made no move to sign. He scanned the papers over and over before finally looking up at the doctor. “Doctor, I have a question about this procedure…” he began slowly. “Will… will it leave a scar on her neck? Are you even her boyfriend?” The doctor stared at him in disbelief. “Sir, your girlfriend is on the verge of death! This is about saving her life! And you’re worried about a scar?” Beside him, Mia tugged on Liam’s sleeve, whispering, “Liam, you know how much Rachel cares about her appearance. If she wakes up with an ugly scar on her neck, she’ll never forgive you. She might even get depressed.” Liam’s expression became even more conflicted. He twirled the pen in his fingers, refusing to sign. “Well… is there a way to do it without leaving a scar? Maybe use better medicine, or some imported technique? Can we get the best surgeon available? Money is not an issue. We’ll pay whatever it costs.” The doctor’s temples throbbed with frustration. “Do you think this is a supermarket where you can pick and choose? I’m telling you, every second we waste is a second closer to her death! Every delay increases the damage to her brain! Now sign the damn form!” I was being wheeled out of the ER, on my way to the operating room. Through the crack in the door as it closed, I could see Liam still arguing with the doctor. A few passing nurses couldn’t stand it anymore and gathered around to confront him. “What is wrong with you? Are you insane?” “Your girlfriend is dying and you’re hung up on a scar?” “Seriously, which is more important, a scar or her life? Are you really her boyfriend?” Faced with the accusations, Mia spread her arms to shield Liam. Her eyes were red as she pleaded with the nurses. “Please, don’t blame Liam. He just loves Rachel so much that he’s not thinking straight. He’s just trying to consider what’s best for her in the long run.” She turned back to Liam, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Liam, I trust you. I know that every decision you make is for Rachel’s own good. Don’t listen to them. Just do what you think is right.” Her words were like a shot of adrenaline to his ego. He stood up straighter. He looked the doctor dead in the eye. “I need more time to consider this. As doctors, you have a responsibility to guarantee a perfect outcome, with no side effects. That includes scarring! Otherwise, I am not signing anything.” The doctor was too enraged to waste another breath on him. He spun around and yelled to the nurse behind him. “We’re out of time! Call the department head immediately! Request an emergency authorization! Go! Go! Go!” The doors to the surgical wing slammed shut, cutting off the noise from the hallway. Outside, Liam was loudly defending himself. “I’m doing this for her own good! I’m being responsible!” Mia patted his back, comforting him. “Liam, don’t be angry. They don’t understand how deeply you care. But I do. You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Liam nodded, his face filled with gratitude. “You’re the only one who gets me.” He pulled out his phone and checked his food order. “Come on. Our milk tea should be here. Let’s go wait by the entrance.” 4 “Patient’s blood pressure is dropping!” “Cardiac arrhythmia detected! Get the defibrillator ready!” “Increase the epinephrine drip!” Inside the operating room, it was controlled chaos. I could feel my body growing cold. Outside the closed doors, Mia was leaning on Liam’s shoulder, sipping her milk tea and pouting. “Liam, I’m suddenly craving crawfish. The spicy kind. Like, really, really spicy.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Liam opened a food delivery app and ordered a fifty-dollar deluxe spicy crawfish platter. While they waited for the food to arrive, he even found the energy to discuss a new project at work with Mia, strategizing how to present it to senior management to maximize his own credit. A passing head nurse saw them and walked over, frowning. “Sir, this is an emergency area. There is a patient fighting for her life in there. We need the family to remain quiet.” Liam looked up, annoyed. “Were we being loud? Are we interrupting you from saving the world?” The nurse, stunned by his brazen attitude, could only shake her head and walk away. The food arrived quickly. Liam took the bag and opened the containers on the bench right outside the ER doors. The fiery, aromatic scent of chili and garlic instantly filled the sterile corridor. Mia clapped her hands in delight at the sight of the bright red crawfish, then her lip jutted out. “But I don’t want to peel them myself. I just got my nails done. What if they get dirty? And my hands will smell.” Liam pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. “I’ll peel them for you.” A moment later, a perfectly shelled, plump piece of tail meat was pinched between his fingers. “Here, Mia. Open up. Ahhh—” Mia ate it in one bite. “Liam, you’re the best!” This was the scene that greeted Director Evans as he rushed down the hallway, several grim-faced department heads trailing behind him. His sheer presence silenced the entire corridor. Director Evans stopped directly in front of Liam. His voice was ice. “Move.” Liam, about to peel a second crawfish, looked up in confusion. “Who are you? Can’t you see we’re eating?” Director Evans glanced at the takeout containers on the floor, and his face turned to stone. Without another word, he shoved open the doors to the operating room and strode inside. The doctors inside looked up and saw him as if he were a savior. “Director Evans! What are you doing here?” Director Evans scanned the monitors, then looked at my condition on the operating table. His voice trembled with a rage so profound it was almost silent. “This is… this is Rachel Vance! From Helios Global!” “What in God’s name are you people doing! Why isn’t she on a heart-lung machine? Who approved this conservative treatment plan!” The operating room fell into a dead silence. Outside, Liam and Mia, who had been about to complain, froze, their expressions locked in place. Helios Global. Rachel Vance. The two names combined like a bolt of lightning, striking them right between the eyes. The crawfish in Liam’s hand fell to the floor with a soft splat.

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On the way to my biological parents’ mansion after they’d found me, my father, Walter, drilled me in the car. “Zoe, listen to me. In this house, what your grandfather says, goes. It’s the law. Don’t you ever talk back to him, or you’ll regret it.” I raised an eyebrow. “The law? Is that codified in the family trust, or is it more of a common-law precedent? What’s the source of its legitimacy and enforceability?” The color drained from my father’s face. He didn’t know that my adoptive parents were both law professors. Our dinner table conversations were less about our day and more like a moot court. I’d been trained since childhood to be a ruthlessly logical debater, with a particular talent for picking apart flawed arguments. So, faced with an unchallengeable authority? I wasn’t scared. I was thrilled. This was exactly the kind of flimsy power structure I loved to dismantle. … Stepping into the house, I was met with the sight of a patriarch straight out of an old film. My grandfather sat enthroned in a massive mahogany armchair, his hands polishing a silver tea service to a gleaming shine. He didn’t even bother to look up, treating me like a ghost. My father, Walter Grayson, the CEO of a billion-dollar public company, stood before him as deferential as a bellhop. “Dad, this is Zoe. She’s home.” Only then did my grandfather slowly lift his eyelids. His cloudy eyes swept over me, and he let out a short, dismissive grunt. “Now that you’re back, learn to behave. Don’t be like some people who, after a decade, can’t even produce a male heir. A complete disgrace to the Grayson name.” The remark was a clear shot at my mother, Helen. Her face went stark white, her hands twisting the hem of her dress. My uncle, Trevor, lounging on a nearby sofa, immediately chimed in with a malicious grin. “Dad, you can’t say that. Walter has two daughters now, doesn’t he? Even if one of them turned out to be someone else’s after eighteen years.” His wife, my aunt Brenda, tittered behind a silk handkerchief. “Exactly. What do you call that? All that effort for nothing. And now that the real one is back, who knows how wild she is? If she can even be disciplined.” In the corner, a girl about my age shot to her feet, her face flushed with anger. This was Ava Grayson, the girl who had been switched at birth, the so-called fake heiress. “Uncle Trevor! How can you say that about Mom and Dad?” Trevor’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, does a freeloader like you have any right to speak here? You eat our food, you live in our house. Don’t get too big for your britches.” Ava’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She stood there, trembling, unable to utter a single word in her defense. My father looked torn, tugging at my sleeve and signaling me to stay quiet. I brushed his hand away and stepped into the center of the living room. “Hello, everyone. My name is Zoe Miller. I’ve just been listening to the opening statements, and I’ve identified a few issues regarding factual determination and the application of law that I’d like to discuss.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to silence the room. I looked first at my uncle. “Firstly, regarding Ava’s legal status. Having been raised by Mr. Walter Grayson and Mrs. Helen Grayson for eighteen years, a de facto parent-child relationship has been established. Under inheritance law, as an adopted daughter, she enjoys the same succession rights as a biological child. Your use of the term ‘someone else’s’ to describe her could constitute slander.” I then turned to my grandfather. “Secondly, on the issue of procreation. Linking the success of a corporate entity to the birth of a male heir is a relic of feudal thinking. Furthermore, under federal anti-discrimination laws, no entity or individual may discriminate against a woman on the basis of marriage or childbirth. Your earlier statement constitutes gender discrimination against Mrs. Helen Grayson.” I paused, my gaze finally landing on Brenda. “Lastly, regarding the assertion of ‘all that effort for nothing.’ The logical premise of this metaphor is that raising a daughter is an investment that requires a financial or dynastic return. This commodifies the emotional value of a family member and is, frankly, unethical.” When I finished, you could have heard a pin drop. Walter and Helen stared at me, their jaws slack. Ava had forgotten to cry, her mouth hanging open in pure admiration. My uncle and aunt’s faces cycled through shades of green and white, as if they’d swallowed a fly. Finally, my grandfather broke the silence. He slammed his teacup down on the table, his cold eyes fixed on my father. “Walter. This daughter of yours has quite a mouth on her.” “Since she’s so clever, I think we’ll just cut your household allowance in half this month. Let’s see if that clever mouth of hers can talk food onto the table.” With the patriarch’s decree, the atmosphere in the house shifted. The next day, our dinner went from a six-course meal to a meager two dishes with barely any meat. The housekeeper looked at us with pity in her eyes. Helen was a nervous wreck, secretly trying to slip me a credit card. “Zoe, take this. There’s some money on it. Go buy yourself something nice to eat.” I pushed the card back. “Mom, the problem isn’t money. It’s that the power structure in this family is illegal.” That evening, I found Walter sighing in his study. “Dad, can I ask about the company’s shareholding structure?” He looked at me, then gave a bitter smile. “Why are you asking about that? I built the company from the ground up. I own sixty-five percent of the shares, your uncle has ten, and the rest is held by a few long-serving executives.” “If you’re the majority shareholder, why does Grandfather control the distribution of profits?” Walter sighed, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Your grandfather is the Chairman. He has control over the corporate accounts, the checkbooks, everything. He says it’s a Grayson family enterprise, not just mine. All profits are to be managed centrally, and then he gives us a monthly allowance.” I frowned. “That’s a violation of corporate law. The company is a separate legal entity. Its assets are distinct from the personal assets of its shareholders. This is a classic case of commingling funds. It could even be considered embezzlement.” “I know all that,” Walter said, rubbing his temples. “But he’s my father. These have always been the house rules. I can’t just sue him over money, can I? Imagine the scandal.” I finally understood. My father was trapped in the emotional shackles of filial duty. The next day, Trevor and Brenda returned from a shopping spree, making a grand show of their haul. Brenda carried several designer bags, while Trevor sported a flashy new watch, waving it in front of my father. “Walter, what do you think of my new timepiece? Dad approved it himself. A little reward for closing a small deal for the company.” Brenda tossed a handbag onto the sofa. “It’s so nice to have a father who appreciates you. Unlike some people, who work their fingers to the bone all year only to have their allowance cut.” Walter’s face was a mask of grim fury, his fists clenched at his sides. Ava couldn’t stand it. She ran to her room and returned with a stack of ledgers. “Zoe, look! This is the household account book. I’ve been keeping a secret copy. Uncle Trevor’s family spends five times more than we do every month! It’s all paid from the central family account!” I opened the ledger. The entries were shocking. Trevor’s dog had a monthly grooming bill of over two thousand dollars. Brenda’s afternoon tea parties started at five thousand. Their son’s tuition and living expenses abroad were a bottomless pit. And the vast majority of that money was profit generated by my father’s company. I closed the book, a plan forming in my mind. Just then, Trevor came bounding down the stairs, beaming. “Dad! Walter! Helen! The most wonderful news! Our Kevin got his acceptance letter from Oxford!” My grandfather emerged from his room, his face glowing. “Excellent! Excellent! A true grandson of the Grayson family! Don’t worry about the tuition. I’ll transfer five hundred thousand from the company accounts immediately!” He shot a triumphant, provocative glance in my direction. “You see that? This is how a true heir to the Grayson fortune is treated.” He then looked at my father, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Walter, we’ll deduct this amount from your dividends for the year.” The decision was like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the last bit of color from Walter and Helen’s faces. Five hundred thousand dollars was almost all of their nominal annual dividend. It meant that not only would they continue to live on a shoestring budget, but they would also be saddled with the massive expense of “sponsoring” their nephew. Helen’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t dare make a sound, biting her lip so hard it turned white. Walter’s head drooped, his shoulders slumping like a bull that had finally been broken. The whole family was going to the city’s most exclusive restaurant to celebrate. Before we left, Brenda made a point of coming over to us, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, Walter, Helen, you’ll have to eat your fill tonight. You’re only here thanks to our Kevin’s success. After this, you might not even get a taste of the soup.” Trevor clapped my father on the shoulder with false sincerity. “Don’t worry, big brother. We won’t forget your sacrifice when Kevin comes back from Oxford to take over.” Ava was trembling with rage, gripping my hand. “Zoe, let’s not go! Why should we celebrate with them using our money?” I patted her hand soothingly. “We’re going. Why wouldn’t we? This is a historic moment. We have to be there to witness it.” The restaurant’s private dining room was opulent. My grandfather sat at the head of the table, beaming as relatives fawned over him. Our family of four was seated at the farthest corner, as if we were crashing the party. After a few rounds of drinks, Trevor stood up, raising his glass. “Tonight, I first want to thank my father, the great helmsman of the Grayson family! And secondly, I want to give a special thanks to my big brother, Walter! Without his hard work, Kevin’s bright future would not be possible! Come, let’s all raise a glass to my brother!” All eyes turned to our table. My father’s face was beet red, the wine glass shaking in his hand. I stood up. I walked slowly to the projection screen at the front of the room, took out my tablet, and connected it. “Before the celebration continues, I believe that as key stakeholders in Grayson Enterprises, you all have the right to be informed of some recent corporate developments.” The screen lit up, displaying the public information page from the Secretary of State’s office. “According to corporate law, ownership of a limited liability company is determined by shareholding. Currently, the structure of Grayson Enterprises is as follows: Mr. Walter Grayson, holding sixty-five percent, is the absolute majority shareholder.” My tone shifted, becoming sharp and cool. “Using corporate funds for the personal educational expenses of a shareholder’s relative, without a resolution passed by the board of directors, is legally defined as ‘misappropriation of funds’ or embezzlement. For amounts of this magnitude, the maximum penalty is a significant prison sentence.” My grandfather’s face darkened. He slammed his hand on the table. “Insolence! I am the Chairman of the board! I can do whatever I want with the company’s money!” My uncle started shouting. “What does a little girl like you know? Get the hell out of here!” I smiled faintly and clicked to the next slide. “Regarding the position of Chairman, I also have a recent document to share.” Projected on the screen was an official notice of corporate amendment, stamped with a bright red digital seal. “An interesting assertion, Mr. Chairman. However, according to a change in registration that became effective three days ago, the legal representative, executive director, and Chairman of Grayson Enterprises is no longer you.” I picked up a freshly printed document from the table and waved it gently. The line for “Legal Representative” clearly displayed my name: Zoe Miller. “I am.” The room was plunged into a dead silence.

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After the college entrance exams, the most popular guy in school, Seth, decided to throw a qipao party to help everyone relax. When I saw the dangerously low necklines and thigh-high slits on the dresses, I tried to stop the entire class from going. My girlfriend, Sandra, just raised an eyebrow. “Jealous that Seth is hotter than you?” The whole class laughed and walked away. Only my childhood friend, Riley, listened to me. That night, everyone at the party was arrested for indecency. They were all detained. Riley looked at our classmates behind bars and shook her head. “Thank God you warned me. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have made it to college either.” After graduation, Sandra and Seth were released from prison. The first thing they did was get engaged. Riley, who had been waiting outside the prison gates with me, turned and plunged a knife into my stomach. Again and again. “Why did you stop me? Don’t you know how much I love him? If I had been there with him that night, if I had gone to prison with him, the person he’s marrying now wouldn’t be someone else!” Only then did I realize she had been in love with Seth all along. When I opened my eyes again, I gave Riley and Sandra a gentle push forward. “No problem. Go ahead.” 1 “Hayden, I’m throwing this qipao party for everyone’s sake. You think this is easy for me? Are you trying to slander me and say I have some ulterior motive with the girls?” I had just opened my eyes to find Seth, the most popular guy in school, with his arm draped over my girlfriend’s shoulder, looking at me with disdain. The other students nodded in agreement, especially the girls. “Yeah, Hayden. Qipaos are a cultural treasure. Are you just upset because Seth has better looks and a better body than you? Worried you won’t get any attention if you go?” “Hahaha, don’t worry, class president. We were never interested in you anyway. You could be naked and we still wouldn’t look twice.” My girlfriend, Sandra, let out an ill-timed chuckle. But this time, I didn’t look at her. I turned to my silent childhood friend, Riley, who stood beside me. In my past life, everyone thought I was just jealous of Seth. Even my girlfriend teased me about it. Only Riley, after my desperate pleading, stayed behind. Later, she even went to the same university as me, and we were in the same research group until we finished our master’s degrees. I thought she was the only one who saw clearly. But I never imagined that all those years of studying, she was just waiting for Seth to get out of prison. Her love for him was so perfectly hidden that even I, her closest friend, never noticed. “I get it,” I said, nodding. I grabbed my backpack and took a couple of steps back. “I’m going home.” “Hayden.” Riley suddenly grabbed my hand. I froze. Her gaze was complicated. “You should take your girlfriend with you.” In that instant, it felt like an electric current shot through me. Riley… she was reborn too? There was a hint of defensiveness in her eyes as she looked at Sandra. Of course. In our past life, she and Sandra were the two girls closest to Seth. If Sandra went to the party this time, Riley couldn’t be sure that Seth would still choose her in the end. “Mind your own business,” Sandra said, shooting me a disgusted look. “I haven’t had a chance to relax since I started studying for the exams. It’s just a qipao exhibit. Don’t be so dirty-minded.” “Did I say it was dirty?” I seized on the flaw in her logic. “I just said it wasn’t a good idea. Why would you assume I meant that? So you already know there’s something wrong with this party?” The girls’ and Seth’s expressions instantly turned cold. Sandra’s face stiffened. It was Riley who came to my defense. “Sandra, you’re Hayden’s girlfriend. A party like this isn’t really appropriate for someone who’s in a relationship.” Sandra was unfazed. “It’s just a party. Besides, if Hayden really can’t handle it, we can just break up for a day, right?” She shot me a challenging look. 2 I was always sensitive to her jokes. Every time she mentioned breaking up, I would force her to take it back. But now, I just smiled. “Sure.” And then I really did turn and walk away. Sandra’s smile froze on her face. Before she could say anything, Seth stopped me. “Alright, alright, don’t make it seem like I stole your girlfriend. Hey, you guys, bring the class president along.” A few guys came over and grabbed me by the arms. I struggled frantically. “I’m not going! Let me go!” “Come on, class president, stop playing hard to get. You were just waiting for us to invite you, weren’t you?” “You’ll see for yourself whether it’s a decent party or not when you get there.” Sandra and Riley tried to say something to Seth, but he just looked at them smugly. “If I don’t make you go, who knows what kind of rumors you’ll spread about me stealing your girlfriend. I can’t be bothered with people like you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you slander me.” Sandra and Riley hesitated, then slowly lowered their hands. “Alright, Hayden, you’ll see Seth’s good intentions once you’re there. Stop making a scene,” someone said. Others chimed in. “Yeah, and with you there to watch your girlfriend, I’m sure Sandra won’t do anything out of line.” “We broke up! I’m not going!” I thrashed, but Sandra just laughed. “It’s just for a day. Don’t be dramatic.” With that, everyone eagerly started heading toward Seth’s house. I struggled violently, but more students held me down, forcing me into the car. In desperation, I grabbed onto Riley’s clothes. “Riley! If we go, we won’t be able to come back! You know this isn’t just a qipao party! The police will come and we won’t even be able to apply for college!” “You’re being ridiculous again!” Riley frowned. My breath caught in my throat. Wait, wasn’t she reborn too? Why was she so calm about her fate? “I know what’s going to happen,” she whispered, her voice low enough for only the two of us to hear. “But Seth isn’t that kind of person. Someone must be trying to frame him. I have to find out who.” “No one is framing him! He’s doing this on purpose—mmph!” A rag was stuffed into my mouth. The arts committee member looked annoyed. “You’re interrupting the music. Be quiet!” My hands and feet were tied to the seat. I stared at Riley, hoping my eyes could convey my meaning. But she stood up and moved to a seat in front of me where she could see Seth, and she didn’t look back. When we arrived at Seth’s house and everyone saw the qipaos, they couldn’t help but gasp. 3 The dresses had impossibly low necklines and dangerously high slits. The boys’ eyes were practically popping out of their heads. The girls’ faces were flushed with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. Only Riley frowned. She hadn’t expected the photos she’d seen in her past life—the dresses that looked more like lingerie—to have actually been prepared by Seth. Seth locked the door and tossed the key to Riley. “Beautiful, right? I searched for a long time. There’s one for every girl! Who wants to go first?” The girls exchanged glances. One of them tentatively raised her hand. “Me!” That was all it took. Soon, other hands shot up. Many of the girls had crushes in the class and were eager to show off. I broke free from my restraints and grabbed Riley’s arm. “Do you see now?” She turned to look at me. I tried to convey the wrongness of it all with my eyes. “Give me the key. We can still leave. Before the police—” “He must have his reasons,” Riley said, pushing me away and tucking the key into her pocket. “If you’re not going to participate, then don’t slander him.” The incense burning in the room had a strange scent. I felt my heart start to race. I rushed forward and kicked over a dozen mannequins dressed in qipaos. “Can’t you smell that there’s something wrong with the incense? Someone is going to call the cops, and when they get here, none of us will be going to college!” Someone sniffed the air and seemed to notice something was off. But then Seth pulled back the curtain of the dressing room. A purple, high-slit, form-fitting qipao clung to Sandra’s curves. She leaned against the wall, perfectly showcasing her impressive figure. “Hayden, you’ll say anything to go after Seth, won’t you? He just wanted to throw a party to help everyone relax. Why can’t you just let it go?” The moment she appeared in that purple dress, the few boys who had seemed wary a moment ago were now staring, mesmerized. One of them turned on me, furious. “Will you just shut up? All you ever do is make malicious assumptions about Seth!” “You’re just jealous because he’s better looking than you! It’s a fact! Even your girlfriend thinks so!” The scent of the incense was making my vision blur. Looking at the girls’ figures made my face flush inexplicably. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I stayed here any longer. I gritted my teeth, lunged for the door, and started kicking at the lock. Seth jumped back in alarm. A few of the guys dragged me away. Sandra stepped in front of Seth. “He’s lost his mind! Lock him in the storage room! Don’t let him ruin Seth’s party!” Seth subtly put his arm around Sandra’s shoulders and gave me a condescending smirk. Sandra stiffened. Seeing the desperation in my eyes, she gently pushed Seth’s hand away and touched my face. “Be good. Everyone is tired from the exams. It’s just an art exhibit. When it’s over, I’ll come get you myself.” “No!” I shook my head frantically, kicking and thrashing, but the boys, their eyes already glazed over, dragged me into the storage room and locked the door from the outside. “No! Let me out! You’re ruining your own lives!” I pounded on the door until my hands were raw. But the deafening music from outside drowned out my cries. Soon, I could hear other, unspeakable sounds from outside. The incense had taken effect, and along with the music, there were other, more disturbing rhythms. “What are you doing?!” A sudden shout cut through the music. I froze. The police? 4 “You sluts! What are you doing?!” By the time my parents got me out of there, the scene was beyond words. All the girls were in qipaos, entwined with different boys. My mom grabbed Seth by the hair. “You’re the one who organized this party and dragged my son here?” “I was wondering why he wasn’t home yet! So this is what you’re all doing!” My dad slapped Riley across the face. “You’re his childhood friend! Not only did you not stop him, you let him get locked up and didn’t even send us a message! What is wrong with you?” “I…” Riley was speechless. Her appearance at that moment was anything but respectable. She had thought she was above it all, that she could listen to Seth’s reasons for throwing the party. But when the incense filled her lungs and Seth wrapped his arms around her waist, she had completely given in. She let her clothes be torn to shreds and joined the orgy. My mom slapped Sandra too. “You’re Hayden’s girlfriend, and you’re fooling around with other guys like this? Have you no shame?” They both looked embarrassed, but seeing Seth being held by the hair, they instinctively pulled him behind them, protectively. “Uncle, Auntie, you’ve misunderstood. It’s not what you think.” “The police will find out what we think!” Just then, sirens wailed outside. The students scrambled to get dressed, but the police had already broken down the door, taking control of the scene. “Nobody move!”

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My sister decided she wanted my fiancé. So my family, who had always worshipped the ground she walked on, sold me. They offered me up to settle a debt, leaving me in a darkness so absolute it shattered my mind. By the time Adrian found me, I was already gone. He carried me out of that hell without a word. The next day, my family’s empire crumbled. My parents were found dead. My sister, Chloe, was dragged into an alley and brutalized so badly she would never carry a child. For seven years, as I drifted in a fog, Adrian never left my side. He took me to every specialist, every clinic, becoming a ghost who haunted the city, a man everyone feared. They called him a madman, shackled to a broken woman. Then, a miracle. I was healed. I held the doctor’s report in my hand, a surprise I couldn’t wait to give him, a new beginning for us on the eve of our wedding. That’s when I heard them in the dressing room. His voice, a raw, ragged whisper. “Keep it down. If Stella hears you, I’ll kill you.” And Chloe’s, hitched and broken as he moved against her. “You broke those men’s hands just for touching me during that little stunt you arranged. Are you really going to kill me, Adrian?” …I stood frozen on the other side of the door, listening until the very end. I forced the tears back down, swallowing the acid in my throat. Then, I plastered a bright, vacant smile on my face, and with the light, skipping energy of a child, I ripped the curtain open. “Adrian! I was looking for you! I found you!” 1 The charged atmosphere in the small space evaporated. My eyes landed on the two of them, pressed together, and for a fraction of a second, the mask on my face cracked. They both jumped, startled. Adrian instantly grabbed his suit jacket, throwing it over Chloe to hide her. I tilted my head, my expression one of pure, childish confusion. “Adrian, why are you being mean to the pretty lady? You made her cry. Did she do something bad?” Chloe let out a sharp, derisive snort, a smirk twisting her flushed face. “God, she’s still just a broken toy.” Adrian, his face tight with discomfort, finished buttoning his shirt. He looked at me, at the empty innocence in my eyes, and a wave of relief washed over him. “It’s nothing, Star. Don’t worry about her. She’s just a salesgirl. Come on, let’s get you into a beautiful dress.” As he tried to lead me away, I twisted in his arms, my reaction sudden and violent. “No! Let me go! You smell… wrong. I don’t like it!” Adrian’s face froze for a moment. He quickly recalibrated, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “Okay, Star. You’re right. My fault.” He gently sat me down on a velvet chair and disappeared, returning only after he had changed into a fresh suit, smelling of nothing but clean linen and his familiar cologne. His assistant brought out dozens of wedding heels, but I shook my head at every single one. “Don’t like them.” Adrian, without even looking at the shoes, flicked his fingers. “Bring more.” Just then, Chloe emerged from the dressing room, fully clothed. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. “Adrian, I want the pretty lady to try them on for me!” Adrian’s hand, which had been resting on my waist, tensed. Chloe’s face fell. When Adrian gave a curt nod of approval, her expression twisted into outrage. “You want me to try on shoes for a psycho?” Her shriek made me flinch and shrink back into Adrian’s side. His expression darkened instantly. With a sharp gesture, he had his assistant forcibly drag Chloe over. “You’re lucky she’s even letting you touch her,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “If you don’t want to do it, you can be on a bus back to whatever nowhere town you crawled out of before this city ever knew your name.” Chloe’s face went pale, then red. Reluctantly, she knelt at my feet and picked up a stiletto. The second her fingers brushed my ankle, I kicked out, sending her sprawling backward. I immediately burst into tears and buried my face in Adrian’s chest. “Hurts,” I whimpered. “My toe hurts. Her nails…” Adrian’s brow furrowed. He glanced down at Chloe’s long, blood-red manicure. “Cut them,” he ordered. That was the final straw. The suppressed fury in Chloe ignited. She snatched the high heel and hurled it against the wall. “Adrian, if you wanted to humiliate me, you could have just said so! I wasn’t born to be your goddamn servant!” Sobbing, she turned and ran out of the boutique. “Adrian, is the pretty lady mad at me?” I asked in a small voice. He stroked my back, his touch meant to be soothing. “Don’t worry about her.” His voice was cold, but his eyes were locked on Chloe’s retreating figure. We were halfway through the wedding dress fitting when Adrian’s assistant rushed in, her face pale, and whispered something in his ear. Adrian didn’t move at first, just took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, but a storm was gathering in his eyes. After a long moment, he loosened his tie and finally stood up. “Star, something’s come up at the office. I’ll have Sarah take you home.” I dropped the veil I was holding and ran to him, grabbing his hand. “Adrian, please don’t go. Today is…” “Stella, be good. Don’t be difficult.” He patted my head, his touch dismissive, and walked away without another glance. The rest of my sentence died in my throat. The assistant picked up the discarded veil. “Ma’am, let me help you with the fitting.” I saw the pity in her eyes. I looked down, my voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “No, thank you. I don’t like it.” We don’t have to try anymore. Midnight came and went. Adrian never came back. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out into the storm. Outside, wind and rain lashed against the glass. On the table, the birthday cake he’d had delivered had melted into a sugary puddle. In seven years, this was the first birthday he had ever missed. Suddenly, a deafening crack of thunder echoed, and the entire mansion plunged into darkness. My mind went completely blank. “Adrian!” I screamed into the void. Silence. I scrambled to my feet, my back drenched in a cold sweat. Blinded by the dark, I tripped and fell hard on the marble floor. “Ma’am! Ma’am!” The housekeeper, hearing the crash, rushed in with a candle. I was curled into a ball on the floor, clutching my head, shaking uncontrollably. “Don’t touch me!” Just as I felt the edges of my consciousness fraying, the front door burst open with a deafening crash. A familiar scent cut through the darkness. Adrian rushed to my side, pulling me into his arms. “Stella, don’t be scared. Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He was soaked from the storm, his clothes cold and damp, but his hands holding me were feverishly tight. It was too late. I was already lost. This was the first time I had experienced true darkness since my recovery. The memories I had locked away came flooding back in a torrent. I screamed, sobbing, my flailing hands striking his face, leaving red marks on his skin. “Get away! Don’t touch me!” The sheer terror in my eyes made him realize this was something more, something new. He scooped me up and raced to the hospital. In the hazy delirium, I felt like I was drowning. A doctor’s voice drifted in and out. “Mr. Blackwood, your fiancée has severe PTSD and nyctophobia. She must have experienced some kind of extreme trauma… Also, regarding Miss Landon… her condition is critical. If she doesn’t receive a uterine transplant soon, she’ll never be able to conceive.” It turned out Chloe had crashed her car after running from the boutique. When she woke up in the hospital, she’d had a complete breakdown and tried to kill herself. “Adrian,” she had shrieked, “if you blame me for what happened back then, then let your punishment be real! Let me pay her back for good!” The silence in my hospital room was absolute, broken only by the cold, rhythmic beeping of the machines. After a long time, Adrian sat down on the bed beside me. He gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and leaned down to kiss my forehead. His voice was choked with emotion. “Don’t let it be too painful for her.” I tried to force my eyes open, to fight, but my body wouldn’t respond. I was helpless as they wheeled me toward the operating room. When I felt the cold steel of the scalpel against my skin, I summoned every last ounce of strength and clamped my hand around the blade. “Ma’am, let go!” a nurse hissed in alarm. The surgeon leaned close, shouting in my ear. He listened to the frantic whispers coming from my lips, then drew in a sharp breath. “I understand,” he said quickly. “I will convey your message to Mr. Blackwood.” He rushed out of the O.R. But just as he began to explain the situation to Adrian, a nurse ran up from the other end of the hall, shouting that Chloe’s condition was deteriorating. Adrian’s furious roar was so loud I could hear it through the doors. “Every second you waste talking is another second of pain for them! Do it!” “But Mr. Blackwood, your fiancée—she’s—” “Shut up! A broken mind doesn’t need a womb! Stella has me. That’s all she’ll ever need. You say one more goddamn word and you can clear out your locker tomorrow!” The surgeon returned, his face a mask of bitter defeat. The scalpel slipped from my grasp.

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The night my fiancé, Carter, signed the deployment order, my adoptive father handed me a classified dossier. “Pick one,” General Morgan said, his voice a low gravel. “They’ll get you inside Ryker’s inner circle.” I stared at the two names, both achingly familiar. The past, ugly and relentless, crashed over me like a tidal wave. The first time I lived this moment, I chose Mia. She seemed so innocent, so pure. But she ran straight to her brother, Marcus, my adoptive brother, and wept about how I was forcing her into the bed of our enemy. I had no defense. They threw me in the brig, and I died on the cold concrete floor after barbed hooks tore my flesh and jolts of electricity erased my name. The second time, I chose Zoe, the sister I trusted most in the world. She stole my credentials and presented them to Ryker as a sign of her loyalty. I only learned the truth as I was dying: she was the woman Carter had spent years searching for, the one who had supposedly saved his life long ago. That night, hunted as a traitor, I drowned in the suffocating darkness of a cargo ship’s bilge, my body left to the river’s cold embrace. Now, I stood in the same sterile office again. Under their expectant, calculating gazes, I tore the deployment order to shreds. “There’s no need to choose,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m going myself.” 1 “Are you insane? I’ve spent years training you, Ava, not so you could throw your life away!” General Morgan slammed his palm on the desk, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist. The bones ground together, but I refused to flinch. I met his gaze, and for a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of something dark and predatory in his eyes. “Ava, please, don’t do this just to make a point.” Mia stepped forward, her hand gently rubbing my back in a gesture of feigned comfort. Her voice was soft, but pitched to carry through the room. “Your injuries from the last mission haven’t even fully healed. You still wake up screaming from the nightmares. We all understand. You don’t have to prove anything.” A sudden, sharp silence fell over the office. Everyone here knew. They knew that during our last op, I’d shielded her from an explosion, taking the blast that shattered both my legs and nearly left me for dead in the fire. And now, here she was, carving open that wound in front of everyone and pouring salt into it with a sweet, concerned smile. “Is this some kind of martyrdom play?” Zoe sneered from the side, her voice deliberately loud, guiding the room’s suspicions. “You know the General would never risk you, so you volunteer for the suicide mission to look brave. You’ve always been the master manipulator, Ava.” Whispers erupted around me. The gazes of the other officers felt like needles, pricking my skin. Disdain. Contempt. A sickening hint of satisfaction. I bit down on my lip, the coppery taste of blood blooming on my tongue, but it couldn’t quell the rage churning in my gut. The door was abruptly pushed open. Carter stood there, his dress uniform crisp and imposing. He ignored the confetti of the shredded order on the floor, his eyes locking directly onto mine. “I approved that order, Ava. Are you going to be insubordinate again?” A knot tightened in my chest, a phantom hand squeezing the air from my lungs. Every breath was a sour, aching thing. It was always like this. No questions, no chance to explain. Just the immediate assumption of my guilt. In my last life, it was this reflexive distrust that had pushed me, step by agonizing step, into the abyss. I wrenched my arm from the General’s grasp. “There’s a problem with the order. Mia, she—” “Enough!” Carter’s voice was a whip crack. He closed the distance between us in a single stride, leaning in close, his voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “You’ll spin any lie, won’t you? You’re that desperate to get to Ryker.” His words turned my blood to ice. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I snapped my head up to look at him, and the raw hatred in his eyes was a physical blow. He remembered. He had lived it all, too. Mia returned from the adjoining kitchenette, holding a mug. “Carter, don’t be angry with her. Ava is just…” She didn’t finish. Her foot “slipped,” and the scalding hot coffee cascaded over my hand and forearm. The searing pain was immediate, a visceral echo of being burned alive. A choked gasp escaped my lips as cold sweat drenched my shirt. Mia snatched her hand back, her voice breaking into a theatrical sob. “Oh, Ava, I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy. Are you okay?” Her performance was flawless. The picture of innocent distress, painting me as the volatile one, the source of the chaos. The sight of her duplicitous face made my stomach heave with revulsion. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched the empty mug from her hand, smashed it on the floor, and slapped her hard across the face. “Cut the crap, Mia. I’m done with your pathetic act!” Carter’s expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of undisguised disgust, as if he were looking at something truly unhinged. He barked an order to the guards at the door. “Lieutenant Reed is mentally unstable. She assaulted a fellow officer and is disrupting military order. Take her to the brig. Immediately.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the silent room, his voice radiating absolute authority. “No one is to visit her without my direct command. Anyone who disobeys will be court-martialed.” The guards seized me, their grip so tight I thought my bones would splinter. As they dragged me away, I looked back at Carter. His posture was ramrod straight, his attention already elsewhere. He didn’t grant me a single glance. Only Mia, standing beside him, had a triumphant little smile hiding in the corners of her eyes. The brig was dark and damp, the air thick with the stench of mildew and old blood that made me cough. A guard shoved me violently, and I crumpled to the floor. An explosion of pain shot through my unhealed legs, nearly making me pass out. I don’t know how long I lay there before the cell door creaked open. It was Marcus. He squatted down, his eyes sharp, his tone hostile. “Alright, Ava. Spit it out. Tell me what you’re really plotting, and maybe I’ll consider letting you live.” I tried to speak, but my throat was painfully dry. A high fever was clouding my mind, and all I could manage was a weak, broken sound. He asked again and again, his patience fraying into anger, then hardening into cruelty. “The Lieutenant is uncooperative and refuses to cooperate with this investigation,” he finally declared to the guards outside. “Her confinement is extended indefinitely.” Through the small window in the door, my vision blurred, I saw Carter’s complex expression. Mia was beside him, her fingers toying with the sleeve of his uniform. “Carter,” she murmured, “she’s like this and still won’t give in. Ryker must have offered her something incredible.” Carter said nothing, but his thumb was unconsciously rubbing a button on his greatcoat. I knew that gesture. It was what he did outside the asylum in our first life. It was what he did on the docks in our second life, debating whether to save me. It was the tell for his internal war. But now, his patience was gone. His voice, when he finally spoke, was cold and resolute. “She’s always been good at playing the victim, at faking madness.” “Let’s see just how long her ‘unbreakable will’ lasts.” The next day, the door was kicked open with a deafening bang. Mia strode in, flanked by several guards. “Ava,” she cooed, “I was worried you weren’t comfortable. I came to help you get settled in.” Her eyes fell to my shoulders. She reached out, her fingers tracing the silver bars of my Lieutenant’s insignia. Before I could react, she ripped it from my uniform, the metal edge slicing my cheek and drawing a bead of blood. She held the insignia between her thumb and forefinger, her tone dripping with contempt. “I pull all-nighters studying tactics, I drill until my hands bleed, and I can’t even get a promotion. But you… you just had to sleep with Carter to get everything you wanted. If I’d known selling my body was that effective, I wouldn’t have wasted all that effort.” The guards stood by, heads bowed, silent. I stared at the insignia, my fingernails digging into my palms. I earned that. I earned it on a battlefield with a bullet in my shoulder, pushing through enemy fire to complete a recon mission. In her hand, she held it like a piece of trash. I opened my mouth to retort, but a sharp pain in my throat choked the words back. Mia’s gaze shifted to my neck, her fingers hooking the thin chain I wore. It was a necklace Carter had made for me years ago, a polished bullet casing from one of his first missions on the border. Engraved on it was the date we met. It was the only piece of our past I hadn’t thrown away. She yanked it. The chain snapped, the casing falling into her palm. “This worthless piece of junk isn’t doing you any good.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it out the small, barred window. I watched it disappear, a hollow ache spreading through my chest. Mia turned to leave. “Watch her,” she commanded the guards. The door hadn’t even fully closed when I heard the voices outside. Zoe’s was the loudest. “That bitch Ava has been one of Ryker’s spies for years! If Carter hadn’t found out when he did, she would have destroyed this entire battalion!” The lie spread like a virus. Every time the guards escorted me to the water pump, I heard the whispers. Soldiers I had trained with now turned their faces away or deliberately slammed into me, dousing me with foul water. The food changed. The porridge came crawling with maggots, the greens laced with grit. I stopped eating. On the fifth day, I was so weak I could barely lift my hand as I leaned against the wall. That evening, Mia returned with Carter’s personal medic. “You really are something else, Ava,” she said, almost admiringly. “Even now, Carter sends a doctor to keep you alive.” I had no energy to argue. I let the needle slide into my vein. My eyes drifted to a photograph in her hand, and my entire body went rigid. It was the only picture I had of my parents. I kept it hidden at the very bottom of my trunk. Only I knew it was there. “You want it back, Ava?” In the photo, my parents’ smiles were so warm, so loving. I struggled to my feet, my fingertips brushing against the photograph before a guard slammed me back to the ground. Mia laughed, a sound of smug charity. “Just sign a confession, swear you’ll never set foot in a military compound again, and I’ll give it back to you.” My eyes were bloodshot. “The only thing I’m guilty of,” I rasped, “is not killing you myself.” Her smile vanished. She casually dropped the photograph into an open drainage grate. The current was strong; it was gone in an instant. The world went black for a moment, and I nearly collapsed. But I didn’t give up. I timed the changing of the guards. I hid a small, desperate note in my sleeve and slipped it to a passing communications officer on my way back from the pump. It wasn’t long before he was detained. The note was delivered directly to Carter. He entered my cell, looking down at me from his great height. He squatted, seizing my chin, his grip so tight a pained grunt escaped me. His voice was dangerously low. “Tell me everything about your deal with Ryker. Be honest, and I’ll let you out of here. We can forget any of this ever happened.” I closed my eyes, refusing to waste another breath on him. Seeing my defiance, he leaned closer, his voice a casual, devastating blow. “You’re pathetic, you know that? To think you actually believed their car crash was an accident. You ran for help to the very man who killed your parents.” He continued, his words twisting the knife. “Your mourning period wasn’t even over before General Morgan rushed to adopt you. Didn’t you ever find that suspicious?” My eyes flew open. I stared at him, unable to process it. The image of my parents’ gravestones blurred with the memory of my adoptive father’s welcoming smile. It was a dull blade, churning my insides. Carter seemed pleased with my reaction. He stood, straightened his uniform, and walked out without another word. I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. My entire life had been a lie. The sisterhood, the love, the loyalty—all of it fake. Even the truth of how my parents died. I stared up at the dark, blurry ceiling, and for the first time, I felt a chilling certainty. This life, this third and final chance, was a trap I was never meant to escape. Three more days passed. Carter’s patience was gone. “Start the interrogation,” he ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth as he leaned back in a chair just outside my cell. “Don’t stop until she tells the truth.” Two guards hauled me to my feet and strapped me to a restraint frame. The first lash of the whip landed directly on the old scars on my back. The pain was a searing, tearing agony. Blood instantly soaked through my shirt. I bit down on my lip, refusing to scream. Suddenly, Mia’s voice drifted in from the hallway, laced with practiced distress. “Carter, stop! Please, don’t hurt her anymore! She’s not strong enough for this. You’ll kill her…” I tried to laugh, but no sound came out. It was just like the last time. She had begged them to stop the electrocution then, too, only to turn around and tell the doctor to increase the voltage. The next thing I knew, a guard was approaching with a syringe. I tried to fight, but he pinned my arm down. The drug was fast-acting. Every wound on my body felt like it was being devoured by a million fire ants. My consciousness began to fray. Fragments of the past flashed before my eyes. Carter, standing outside the asylum, his expression cold and distant. Then, the crushing weight of seawater filling my lungs, the suffocating embrace of the deep. And him, on the docks, holding Mia’s hand, waiting for me to die. I don’t know how much time passed. Carter entered the interrogation room, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He frowned, a flicker of panic in his eyes that was quickly masked by irritation. “You brought this on yourself.” I was about to black out. Just as my vision faded, a bucket of ice-cold water shocked me back, my body wracked with shivers. Carter stood over me, holding a stack of papers. “Confess,” he said, “and I’ll consider telling you the whole truth about your parents’ deaths.” I lifted my head, my heart pounding. He was so confident, so sure he was still dealing with the old Ava. But I already knew. I had pieced it together from details he’d let slip, from the old grievances I’d uncovered myself. My plan to “defect” to Ryker wasn’t an impulse. It was a calculated strategy to expose them all. My parents’ murder, the General’s hypocrisy, and the truth Carter so deliberately concealed. I steadied my breathing, my voice clear and even. “It was just a mission.” The warmth in his eyes vanished. He pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette into my arm. He spat two words at the guards. “Keep going.” I don’t remember the rest of the torture. There was only pain. Late that night, the brig was terrifyingly silent. Curled in a corner, I thought I saw a familiar shadow in the darkness. Carter knelt beside me. His movements were cautious, almost gentle, as he applied ointment to my burns and wounds. When he finished, he left without a word, as if that moment of tenderness was nothing more than a hallucination born from agony. He was barely gone when Zoe pushed the door open. She carried an oil lamp, and her voice was a sickly sweet poison. “You just had to learn the hard way, didn’t you? You should never have tried to compete with my sister.” Her smile was chilling. “Now, once you’re dead, no one will be left to get between her and Carter. And that Lieutenant’s commission you were so proud of? It’ll be hers, as it always should have been.” My body went rigid. I forced my eyes open. In the flickering lamplight, the triumphant curve of her lips was identical to Mia’s. A memory flashed in my mind: my parents’ funeral. A strange girl standing next to Mia, wearing a bracelet identical to the one Zoe always wore. It was never just one of them. It had been both of them, from the very beginning. A perfectly constructed trap. And I, like a fool, had fallen for it, time and time again, never even realizing who my real enemies were. The next morning, guards hauled me to Carter’s office. The wounds from the night before were still weeping, every movement a fresh wave of agony. Carter glanced at the bloodstains on my uniform. A flicker of something—guilt, maybe—crossed his face, so fast I thought I imagined it. His expression quickly settled back into a neutral mask. He tossed a document onto the desk in front of me. “Sign this. You’re being reassigned to inventory management in the logistics department. Try to stay out of trouble and stop embarrassing yourself.” I used the desk to pull myself to my feet. Meeting his gaze, I couldn’t help but find the situation darkly amusing. “Why the sudden transfer, Commander? Are you afraid I might uncover some of your dirty little secrets if I stay?” Before he could answer, his adjutant took a step forward, ready to reprimand me for my insolence, but Carter stopped him with a single look. Mia, ever-present, tightened her arm around his. “Ava, he’s doing this for your own good,” she said softly. “It’s a desk job. You’ll be safe there, away from the fighting.” My eyes ignored her, focusing instead on the document. The document Zoe had swapped. It wasn’t a transfer to logistics. It was an application for immediate frontline deployment. My calculated gamble had paid off. I had provoked her into overplaying her hand. Without another moment’s hesitation, I took the pen and signed my name. The scratch of the nib on paper felt like a blade scoring across my already shattered heart. Carter glanced at the signature, and his tense shoulders seemed to relax. He stepped toward me, raising his hand as if to wipe a smudge of blood from my cheek. I flinched away instinctively. His hand froze in mid-air, and his eyes darkened. “You’re finally learning your place, Ava,” he said, his tone unreadable. He retracted his hand. He personally escorted me back to my quarters. Before he left, he turned. “Get some rest. Heal. And stop causing trouble.” The moment his footsteps faded down the hall, I slid down the door, my back pressed against the wood. My heart felt like a gaping cavern, a cold wind howling through it. I couldn’t cry. I just sat there, numbly wiping at the dried blood on my face. After a long while, I reached under my cot and pulled out the small dagger I had hidden there. I knew Mia wouldn’t give me time to breathe. Sure enough, in the dead of night, my door was kicked off its hinges. Several guards dragged me from my bed and shoved me into the back of a vehicle. The movement tore my wounds open, and the world swam in a haze of black-edged pain. I was dumped, unceremoniously, at the most dangerous sector on the front: Outpost Niner. It was the closest position to Ryker’s main stronghold. The air constantly hummed with the whistle of incoming artillery. I huddled behind a crumbling barricade. In the next instant, a masked man was on me, a knife blade pressed cold against my throat. So Mia couldn’t even wait a single night. She’d already paid an assassin to kill me on Ryker’s doorstep, a perfect way to frame her rival. My chest heaved with a mixture of terror and pain, but I forced myself to remain calm. As he leaned in to whisper a threat, I moved. My hand closed around the dagger hidden in my boot. I used the very same combat techniques Carter had taught me to defend myself from the danger he had sent me into. With every last ounce of my strength, I drove the blade deep into a vital point. Warm blood splattered across my face, the smell thick and metallic. Fighting back nausea, I crawled to a battered, barely-functional telegraph machine and tapped out a short, coded message: “Outpost Niner overrun. Lieutenant Reed, KIA.” Then, I transmitted the message directly to Carter’s command frequency.

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When I saw the headline—Vegas Chapel Opens Drive-Thru in Nightclub, Dare Option Unlocked—I laughed along with the rest of the internet, sharing the spicy comments about it being a new punishment for losing a round of dares. I was still laughing about it yesterday. Today, when I went to the courthouse with my fiancé to get our marriage license, I found out he was already married. He’d registered last night. His “best friend,” a woman I’d only ever heard described as “one of the guys,” gasped with theatrical surprise. “Oh my god, Ryan! I think… I think we lost a dare at the club last night. They made us go get married as a penalty.” Ryan, with his arm still wrapped around my waist, just shrugged it off. “We thought it was just a joke, a gimmick. We didn’t think it was real. But hey, no big deal. We’ll just get it annulled.” He gave my side a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll take a month for the paperwork to go through, and then we can get our license. Simple.” I gently pushed his hand away. A smile played on my lips. “Okay,” I said, my voice sweet. “I’ll wait.” I’ll wait for you to get on your knees and beg me. 1 As I turned to leave, Ryan grabbed my wrist, his relaxed expression tightening with annoyance. “What’s the big deal, Audrey? It’s not like it can’t be undone. You can’t wait one month?” Alex, the “female friend,” draped her arms around Ryan’s neck without a shred of shame, pulling his head toward her chest. “Don’t worry, ‘sis’,” she purred, the title dripping with condescension. “It’s only a month. I can test-drive the marriage for you. Test-drive him too, if you want.” She winked at me. “If he’s no good, you can kick him to the curb. Save you from a passionless marriage.” The rest of their friends burst out laughing, a chorus of bros who saw absolutely nothing wrong with this. Including Ryan himself. He gave Alex a helpless push, pulling at the collar of her low-cut top to peek inside. “With that flat chest of yours? I’ll pass on the test drive.” Alex didn’t even flinch. She just puffed out what little she had. “They say these can be grown with the right pair of hands. Want to give it a try, Ryan? Experience the joy of a home-grown project?” Rage, hot and sharp, surged through me. Until this very moment, I had never known that Alex, the person he always called his best buddy, was a woman. A completely shameless one at that. Someone in the group must have noticed the murder in my eyes and tried to play peacemaker. “Hey, Audrey, don’t be mad. It’s our fault. We were all wasted and egging them on.” “Yeah, none of us knew you could actually get a real license at a nightclub. It’s crazy, right?” another one chimed in. Someone else popped the trunk of Ryan’s car. “Ryan was so excited about today. He even had a surprise for you.” The moment the trunk opened, a wave of awkward silence fell over the group. The back of the car, which was supposed to be filled with flowers, was a wreck. Dozens of roses were crushed and flattened, and lying right on top of the floral carnage was a single piece of black lace underwear. “Oh!” Alex chirped, stepping forward to snatch the panties. “I was wondering why I felt a draft this morning. Turns out I forgot something.” She shot a pouty look at Ryan. “You could have told me.” My mind went blank, a white-hot static where my future used to be. My hand moved on its own, the crack of my palm against Ryan’s cheek echoing in the sudden silence. “You disgust me.” He stared at me, stunned for a second, before grabbing my wrist. “It’s not what you think!” “She… she was drunk last night and insisted on sleeping in the car.” He shot Alex a desperate look, begging her to play along. She rolled her eyes before sighing dramatically. “Right, right. All my fault. I insisted on sleeping in the trunk alone and accidentally ruined your big surprise. But hey, you guys didn’t get your license today anyway, so no harm, no foul.” She emphasized the word “alone,” her tone a perfect blend of apology and taunt. I yanked my hand from Ryan’s grip, my face a cold mask. “Since you two are already married, there’s nothing left to say. I wish you both the best. A bitch and a dog, a match made in heaven.” A man this filthy was no longer my problem. Ryan blocked my path, his face dark. “I told you, marrying Alex was an accident. Do you have to be so cruel with your words?” he snapped. “These are all my friends. They came all this way to celebrate with us. The least you could do is buy them dinner.” He puffed out his chest. “Let’s do Aura.” I stared at him, truly baffled. I never realized the depths of his shamelessness. Aura, a restaurant with a six-thousand-dollar tasting menu per person, was so exclusive it didn’t even take reservations from the general public. Even Ryan Walker couldn’t get a table there on his own. And now, standing here on the day he was supposed to marry me, already married to another woman, he had the audacity to ask me to use my connections to save his face? I was so furious I could barely breathe. I kicked him hard in the shin. “Get lost,” I seethed. “Take whoever you married and buy them your own damn dinner.” I got in my car and drove straight to my office. I had barely sat down at my desk when my phone rang. It was the concierge from Aura. “Ms. Pearce? A Mr. Walker has just charged an eighty-eight-thousand-dollar VIP package to your account. I was calling to confirm when you might be available to settle the bill?” I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. The absolute nerve of Ryan. “He’s the one who spent the money,” I told the concierge, my voice ice cold. “He can be the one to pay for it. If he doesn’t, I suggest you call the police. He and I are no longer associated in any way.” A few minutes later, Ryan’s name flashed on my screen. I answered, and his furious roar filled my ear. “Audrey! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of my friends? Get over here and pay this bill right now!” I let out another cold laugh. “Why, exactly, would I do that?” “When have you ever not paid when we’ve come here?” he shot back, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. My voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh. Why don’t you take a moment and remember why I ever paid for you in the first place?” There was a pause. He remembered. He remembered showing up at my door with nothing but his good looks and a sob story, begging me to support him, promising he’d be the perfect, devoted husband who wouldn’t interfere with my career. Back then, he was sweet, attentive, and gorgeous. And I, facing the pressure of inheriting my family’s company, thought that having a handsome, uncomplicated man by my side was a perfect solution. So I said yes. His tone softened, shifting to the gentle, pleading voice he always used to get his way. “Audrey, baby, don’t be angry. I promise I’ll book an appointment to start the annulment with Alex tomorrow. Next month, it’ll be you and me. Even if her name is on that paper, you’re the only one in my heart. A tomboy like Alex could never compare to you.” A few days ago, those sweet words would have melted me. Now, they just made my stomach turn. I could hear Alex’s voice in the background. “Is Audrey still giving you a hard time? I told you, you’re too good to her. Just because she has a little money, she thinks she can throw these tantrums whenever she wants.” “Yeah, man,” another voice chimed in. “She’s almost thirty. Who else is going to marry an old maid like that besides you?” “Exactly. Alex is way better. She can be your bro in the streets and in the sheets.” “I say, since the license is already signed, why not just roll with it? Otherwise, your life is basically over, dude.” “Hey, speaking of last night in the car… weren’t those rose thorns a little prickly?” A wave of raucous laughter followed. The sound was so incredibly mocking. Now I understood why he never wanted me to meet his “friends.” He was afraid I’d see them for who they really were. The background noise muffled as Ryan presumably covered the phone, but his own voice grew bolder. “Look, just get over here. Weren’t you always dying to meet my friends? Stop playing hard to get.” “Fine,” I said. “Tell them to wait for me.” Just before I hung up, I heard Ryan’s triumphant voice, loud and clear. “See? I’ve been giving her way too much credit. I tell her to come, and she comes running.” The sound of it was so pathetic, it was almost funny. Ryan was clearly flying high on his own delusion. I watched the call recording save automatically to my phone, then blocked his number and got back to work. The anger fueled me. I worked straight through the night and didn’t head home until the next morning. But the moment I opened my front door, I saw it. A trail of discarded clothing—his jeans, her dress—snaked from the entryway to my bedroom door. The rage I had managed to suppress came roaring back. I walked to the kitchen, filled a stainless-steel ice bucket with water, marched into the bedroom, and dumped the whole thing onto the bed. Two figures, tangled together, shot up with panicked screams. They were both completely naked. When Alex saw it was me, she shrieked, “Are you crazy? Can’t you see we’re sleeping?” I tossed the bucket onto the floor with a loud clang. “Oh, I see,” I said, my smile venomous. “I see everything perfectly.” Ryan scrambled to pull on his boxers. “Audrey! Don’t misunderstand! Nothing happened between us! We’re innocent!” There are moments when you’re so utterly speechless that all you can do is laugh. “Do you take me for an idiot, Ryan?” Naked, in my bed together, and he was trying to sell me on ‘innocence’? Alex, completely unbothered by her own nudity, stood up to defend him. “Do you have any idea how much face Ryan lost last night because you didn’t show up?” she yelled. “And you have the nerve to be angry at him? Besides, Ryan and I are legally married now. Even if we did sleep together, it’s nobody’s business but ours!” Ryan grabbed her dress from the floor and expertly helped her pull it on, his movements practiced and familiar. Then he turned to me, his eyes full of disappointment. “Can’t you just trust me for once, Audrey? Why do you always have to be so suspicious? And about last night… those are my best friends! You completely humiliated me in front of them.” He took a deep breath, as if preparing to deliver a royal decree. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to wire each of my friends a hundred thousand dollars as an apology for the eighty-eight-thousand-dollar dinner you refused to pay for. Then, maybe, I’ll consider putting in a good word for you with them.” I stared at him, incredulous. How could one person possess such an astounding level of arrogance? Did he actually believe what his friends said, that I was so desperate I couldn’t live without him? He seemed to take my silence as a sign that his threats were working. His tone became even more condescending. “Consider this one-month annulment period a trial. For you. A chance for you to prove you’re worthy of marrying me. We’ll see how you behave.” He then added, “Oh, and Alex is craving the caviar and chocolate pudding from Aura. Have a serving delivered.” Alex stepped forward and gave me a hard shove, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Ryan and I are the married couple here. That means this is my house now. You can get out.” She leaned in closer. “And you’d better spend the next month figuring out how to get on my good side. Because if I’m not happy, I might just decide not to sign those annulment papers. Then where would you be?” I stumbled backward, the corner of a dresser digging painfully into my lower back. For a split second, I saw Ryan’s hand start to reach for me, but he pulled it back, his expression hardening. “Your attitude really has gotten out of control lately, Audrey. You need to fix it.” Fix this, I thought. I steadied myself, stood up straight, and slapped them both, one after the other. Alex screamed and lunged at me, grabbing a handful of my hair, her other hand raised to strike back. I could have dodged it, I could have fought back, but Ryan grabbed my arms, holding me in place for her. “Audrey, don’t you dare go too far!” he yelled. Alex’s slaps landed hard across my face, stinging and sharp. I could taste blood in my mouth. When she was done, Ryan looked at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes before he quickly looked away. “You hit her first,” he mumbled. “You can’t blame Alex. Maybe you should stay somewhere else for a while. Alex doesn’t really like living with other women.” I thought Ryan had a limit, a line he wouldn’t cross. I thought wrong. He wasn’t just a spineless user; he was an animal. “Really?” I spat, the blood making my words taste metallic. “Is her mother not a woman? Or did she crawl out from under a rock?” Any lingering shred of affection I had for him vanished in that instant. I pushed myself off the floor, walked to my desk, pulled open a drawer, and threw the deed to the condo right at his face. “Read it and weep. This is my property. The only two who should be getting out are you and your whore.” I pointed a trembling finger at him. “And you, Ryan. Your clothes, your car, your entire existence for the past three years—I paid for it all. Get naked before you leave. And that pathetic little startup I funded for you? Get ready to watch it file for bankruptcy.” Alex stepped in front of him, her arms crossed defiantly. “You were going to marry him anyway. It’s not just the condo; your company was going to be his too. You should be handing it all over willingly, and instead, you’re trying to kick him out?” She sneered. “What, are you trying to be some kind of online girlboss now? Just wait. Once Ryan dumps you for good, you’ll come crawling back.” I found it fascinating that Alex, a woman, could be so contemptuous of other women. She seemed to identify so strongly with men, she’d practically become one herself. She would learn soon enough what happens when you put all your faith in them. “I’m done talking,” I said flatly. “Are you leaving, or do I have someone make you leave?” I pulled out my phone and dialed three numbers: 9-1-1. Seeing me actually do it, Ryan hesitated. But Alex grabbed his arm. “Who do you think you’re threatening?” she snarled at me. “You don’t want me living in your precious condo? Fine. Then nobody gets to live in it!” With that, she stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of olive oil, and ran back into the bedroom. She started splashing it all over the curtains and my clothes in the open closet. My eyes widened in horror. I moved to stop her. “Ryan, what are you waiting for? Stop her!” Alex screamed at him. “If you don’t teach her a lesson now, do you really think she won’t hold this over your head every single day after you’re married?” That was all it took. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ryan wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pinning me in place. I could only watch in helpless horror as Alex finished emptying the bottle, pulled a lighter from her pocket, and set the curtains ablaze. The oil acted as an accelerant. Flames erupted, climbing the fabric in seconds. Choking on the smoke, Alex pushed past me, grabbed Ryan, and dragged him out of the room. I heard the click of the lock just as I lunged for the door. The fire was already consuming half the room. The heat was a physical force, searing my skin. I pounded on the door in a panic. “Ryan! Open this door right now!” I think he might have considered it, but I heard Alex’s sharp voice from the other side. “Ryan, I’m doing this for you. Have some goddamn backbone. Wait until she begs you. Then we’ll talk.” A moment of silence, then Ryan’s voice, muffled but clear. “Alex is right, Audrey. You should have signed the condo and the company over to me a long time ago. All you ever needed was me, right? If you promise to sign everything over to me right now, I’ll open the door and let you out.” The flames grew higher. The ends of my hair began to singe and curl. The thick, acrid smoke clawed at my lungs, and every attempt to breathe was like swallowing knives. I heard Alex again, her voice laced with cruel excitement. “See? She’s still got fight in her. That means the fire isn’t big enough yet. Let’s wait a little longer.” Ryan’s reply was a single word that sent my heart plummeting into an icy abyss. “Okay.” I stopped hoping they would save me. Stumbling and choking, I made my way into the en-suite bathroom. I turned on the shower, drenching myself in cold water, and curled into a ball on the wet tile floor. Through the haze of smoke and fear, I heard Alex’s panicked shriek. “The fire’s spreading out here!” Ryan’s voice was filled with alarm. “What about Audrey?” “Who cares about her right now?” Alex screamed back. “Do you want to die?” Then, the sound of frantic footsteps fading down the hall. They had left me there. Smoke seeped under the bathroom door, making the small space a death trap. My breathing became shallow, my vision started to swim in black spots. Just as I thought this was it, that I was going to burn to death in my own home, the bathroom door splintered open. “Ma’am, are you okay?” A firefighter. The first thing I did, the very first conscious act after being saved, was to grab his arm. My voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Call the police,” I choked out. “This was arson. They tried to murder me.”

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On our wedding anniversary, my wife bought me a cheap, fifteen-dollar drugstore watch. Because of that simple gift, her first love flew into a jealous rage and had his dog attack me, leaving me blind in my right eye. When my mother, infuriated, kicked the dog away, he ran crying to my wife, claiming my mom had abused his precious pet. My wife, Audrey, refused to listen to a word I said. As a “lesson,” she had my mother locked in the kennels with our five Cane Corsos. I fell to my knees, begging her, pleading with her that the dogs were dangerous, that they would kill her. She was busy online, ordering an apology gift for the man’s dog. She shoved me away with her foot, her voice sharp with annoyance. “They’re professionally trained, Ethan. They’re just for show. Stop being so dramatic.” To keep me from “making a scene,” she locked me in my room. I broke down the door. I raced to the kennels and rushed my mother’s broken body to the hospital, but I didn’t have the money to pay for the emergency surgery. I had no choice but to call my wife. She was in the middle of a candlelit dinner with him. The moment I mentioned money, she hung up. By the time she came home, my mother was dead. Seeing my tears, she tossed a platinum credit card onto the floor, her voice dripping with impatience. “What’s all this melodrama? Your mother is tougher than she looks. You really think a few overgrown puppies could get the best of her?” She sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. “Look, because she’s an elder, I’ll let it slide this time. Take this money, buy her some vitamins to calm her nerves. And tell her I’ll give her a grandchild next year. That should cheer her up.” She didn’t know. She didn’t know my mother was gone, and that as for my wife… I didn’t want her anymore either. 1 Audrey watched me, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched, as I ignored the credit card on the marble floor. “I gave you the money you wanted,” she said, her tone clipped. “Now go tell your mother to stop hiding and come out here to apologize to Milo.” Milo. That was the name of the poodle mix that had mauled my eye and started this entire nightmare. I lifted my head, my vision swimming, and stared at her. I truly stared at the woman I had been married to for five years. I couldn’t comprehend it. How could she so easily believe the lies of another man over me, over the evidence of her own eyes? How could she condemn my frail, elderly mother on the word of her high school flame? My mom had spent half her life in a hospital bed. She’d finally, miraculously, gotten better. She hadn’t even had a handful of good days before being torn to shreds by dogs. And now, even in death, Audrey expected her to apologize. To a dog. The image of my mother’s mangled body flashed behind my eyes. A wave of grief and fury so strong it nearly buckled my knees washed over me. I pointed a trembling finger to the thick gauze bandage covering my right eye socket. “That animal blinded me,” I choked out, my voice raw. “My mother gave him one little kick. Just to get him away from me. And that was wrong?” My anguish, my hoarse questions, didn’t move her in the slightest. Her gaze was as cold and hard as the floor beneath my feet. “Milo nipped you by accident. And I already punished him—he got three fewer kibbles for dinner. Your mother, on the other hand, took it upon herself to physically assault him.” She crossed her arms. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, she would have killed him!” Across the cavernous living room, Spencer—her “one that got away”—cradled the dog, a smug, triumphant smirk on his face. Then, in a blink, his expression shifted to one of pained compromise. “Audrey, maybe we should let it go,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I mean, technically Milo only bit him because he was yelling… but Ethan is badly hurt. We shouldn’t force his mother to apologize.” He stroked the dog’s fur. “Besides, you were too lenient with Milo. Of course, she was upset. I’ll tell you what.” He feigned a grimace. “I’ll poke Milo’s eye out right now, just to make it even.” He spoke with such theatrical brutality, but his hand never stopped its gentle, soothing motion. The performance was so obvious, so transparent, yet Audrey was completely blind to it. She panicked. “No, Spencer, don’t!” The cool, aloof Audrey Hale I knew, the titan of industry, was suddenly flustered, practically begging him not to harm a fly on that dog’s head. She wouldn’t even consider a punishment as light as putting him in another room for an hour. The irony was a bitter pill in my throat. This was all because Spencer couldn’t stand seeing Audrey show me the slightest kindness. The fact that she had, on a whim, bought me a cheap fifteen-dollar watch from a drugstore had been enough to send him into a jealous frenzy. He’d called his friends over, men who held me down while he sicced his dog on me, all as a “punishment.” The security cameras in the mansion had recorded everything. But Audrey couldn’t be bothered to look. Spencer’s tearful, twisted version of the story was all the proof she needed. It was my fault. All of it. I had to admit, the power of a first love was something to behold. His dog was more important than her husband and her mother-in-law combined. I tuned them out as they continued their dramatic debate. I hadn’t come back for this. My mother’s body was at the funeral home. I was only here to gather a few of her belongings. In a daze, I walked to her room and picked up a bright, floral-print dress. It was the one I’d bought for her the day she was discharged from the hospital. She had adored it, wearing it every chance she got, preening for her friends. “My son bought it for me. Isn’t it beautiful? He’s so smart, so thoughtful. My Ethan.” Her voice, her smiling face, flickered in my mind for a second before vanishing into the grief. My eyes burned and my throat tightened. Before I could even process the fresh wave of pain, a hand shot out and snatched the bag from my grasp. “You’re not leaving until your mother comes out here and says she’s sorry!” Audrey yelled, yanking on the strap. There was a sharp, tearing sound. The bag ripped open. Its contents scattered across the floor. The poodle mix, Milo, trotted over gleefully, snatching the floral dress in his teeth. Something inside me snapped. I lunged forward, kicking the dog away and scrambling to grab the dress. Milo yelped dramatically. That was it. Audrey exploded. “Guards!” she screamed, and two of her security detail materialized, grabbing my arms and pinning me. “It’s a stupid piece of clothing! The fact that Milo wanted to play with it is a compliment, and you attack him? You’re just like your mother—completely out of control! Since you won’t let her apologize, you can do it for her!” I watched, helpless, as the dog shredded my mother’s most treasured possession. Strong hands forced my head down, slamming it against the hard floor. Once. Twice. The sharp pain radiating from my forehead was nothing, not even a fraction of the agony in my chest. Tears I could no longer hold back streamed down my face. A dark, wet patch of red began to seep through the white gauze over my eye. The sight of the blood seemed to startle Audrey. She paused, then waved the guards off. “It’s just a dress, Ethan, my God. I’ll buy you a hundred more. A grown man crying over something so trivial. It’s embarrassing.” Free, I ignored her. I wiped my face, found another bag, and silently, carefully, folded the other pieces of my mother’s clothing and placed them inside. The blood was spreading on the bandage. Audrey’s brow furrowed in something that almost looked like concern. “Your stitches have opened. I’m taking you to the doctor.” She reached for me, but at that exact moment, Spencer gave Milo a sharp kick. The dog yelped again and scampered away, immediately drawing Audrey’s attention. Spencer shrugged, a picture of helpless frustration. “He’s too smart for his own good. He sees you paying attention to Ethan and gets jealous.” Audrey was instantly consumed with guilt. “Oh, my poor baby. It’s my fault. I’ll go find him right now.” She started to leave, then hesitated, her gaze flickering back to me. “If he runs off, someone could steal him. He could be killed. You go on to the hospital. I’ll meet you there after I’ve calmed Milo down.” She turned fully, her voice hardening again. “And I’m letting you both off the hook for today. But this is the last time. You can tell your mother that as long as she lives under my roof and eats my food, she will follow my rules.” She still didn’t know. I watched her run after the dog, too tired to say another word. I finished packing and left for the funeral home. 2 The air in the crematorium was thick with the sound of weeping. But my tears had run dry. I just stood there, silently feeding my mother’s clothes into the incinerator. My father died when I was young. My mother had raised me alone, working herself to the bone, only to be diagnosed with a terminal illness. I’d dropped out of college to work, to pay for her treatments, only to have my wages stolen by a crooked boss. I was desperate, with nowhere to turn, when a sleek black town car pulled up beside me on the street. The window rolled down, and there was Audrey Hale. She looked down at me from the leather-upholstered fortress of her car. “Ethan Cole, right?” she’d said. “I have a proposition for you. Marry me. Move into my family’s estate. In return, I will cover all of your mother’s medical expenses, and I’ll pay for you to finish your degree, even graduate school.” “Okay,” I’d said, without a moment’s hesitation. She thought I’d agreed for the money. She had no idea that I’d been in love with her for years, ever since we were in the same class in high school. Back then, I was the one who made an extra breakfast sandwich every morning and left it on her desk before anyone else arrived. When the other girls, jealous of her family’s wealth and her effortless beauty, started to bully her, I was the one who anonymously reported them for cheating on tests, getting them suspended. When I saw them about to pour dirty mop water into her bottle, I switched it with one of their own, letting them drink their own poison. Slowly, the bullying stopped. A rumor went around that Audrey, the untouchable princess, had a secret knight protecting her. I never dared to step forward. The chasm between our worlds was too vast. We could never have been together. And sure enough, after graduation, she went to study abroad and cut off all contact. When we met again, all those years later, she didn’t recognize me as her old classmate. It didn’t matter. Just being with her was enough. After the wedding, our life was one of polite distance. We were like roommates, two strangers sharing a roof but never crossing into each other’s lives. I knew she had no feelings for me, but I wasn’t discouraged. Life is long, I told myself. Eventually, I could win her over. I poured myself into my studies, managed the household, and tried to be the perfect, supportive husband. Then, a month ago, Spencer returned from Europe. And I learned that she had a great, unrequited love. The one that got away. Years ago, when Audrey’s parents had pressured her to marry, Spencer, unwilling to marry into her powerful family and live in her shadow, broke up with her and left the country to pursue his own ambitions. In a fit of pique, she found me—a poor student who happened to bear a striking resemblance to him—and married me instead. I was just a replacement. A pathetic stand-in. Even knowing the truth, I didn’t feel I had the right to be angry. After all, Audrey had been generous. She had saved my mother’s life. So I stood by as she moved Spencer into our home. I held my tongue, treated him with respect, and yielded at every turn. But living with him, I saw the man he really was. He was nothing like the kind, noble person Audrey described. He would “accidentally” spill hot coffee on himself and blame me. He would stage a fall on the stairs and claim I’d pushed him out of jealousy. His petty cruelties were endless, chipping away at the fragile trust Audrey and I had begun to build. And now, with a spoiled little dog, he had taken my mother’s life. I watched the box of my mother’s ashes be lowered into the ground. Kneeling by the fresh grave, my heart felt like a hollow, cavernous ruin. Her true love was back. So I would leave. I would give them the life they wanted. Audrey had promised to meet me at the hospital, but the sun had set and my phone remained silent. I knew she’d forgotten. I wasn’t surprised. After the funeral, I went to a print shop. I returned to that cold, empty mansion with a single document. I knocked on her study door. “Come in.” She was at her desk, immersed in her work. I placed the divorce papers in front of her. “Sign this.” Without even glancing at it, she picked up her pen and scrawled her signature. “Don’t you want to see what you’re signing?” I asked, my voice tight. She didn’t look up. “What could you possibly want from me, Ethan? It’s your greedy mother again, isn’t it? Putting you up to asking for more money.” My fists clenched at my sides. I opened my mouth to tell her, to finally tell her everything. Bang! The door flew open, slamming against the wall. Audrey hated loud noises. Anyone entering her study, including me, was required to knock softly and wait for permission. But this person, this intruder, was met not with anger, but with a delighted smile. “Spencer! You have to tell me what that paper you gave me means,” she said, rising to greet him. “I’ve been staring at it for five hours, I’ve cross-referenced everything online, and I still can’t decode it.” Spencer laughed. “Decode what? It was a flyer for a pizza place I picked up on the street. I was just using it to fan myself. You’re too much.” The powerful CEO, my wife, stuck her tongue out at him playfully. She wasn’t angry about the wasted time. She carefully placed the junk-mail flyer into a silver picture frame and set it on her desk, admiring it like a piece of fine art. The legal document I’d brought her didn’t warrant a single glance. A greasy flyer from his hand was a treasure. The difference between being loved and not being loved was a stark, brutal thing. They began to chat, completely forgetting I was in the room. I quietly picked up the signed divorce papers and walked out. 3 The next morning, I was at my lawyer’s office first thing. “Everything is filed, Mr. Cole,” he said. “We’ll have her served by the end of the day.” I thanked him and stepped outside to call a cab. As I did, a message popped up on my phone from the home health aide who had looked after my mother at the hospital. Mr. Cole, your mother left a few things here with me. Are you free to come pick them up? I am, I typed back. I headed for the address she sent—a private room at an upscale restaurant. As I approached the door, I was about to text her that I’d arrived when I heard familiar voices from within. Instinctively, I peered through the crack in the slightly ajar door. Inside, Audrey and Spencer were linking arms, about to drink from each other’s glasses. A group of their friends were cheering them on. “Audrey, you’re too young and vibrant to waste your life with someone you don’t love!” one woman shouted. “That Ethan guy was never good enough for you,” another added. “Just divorce him and get back together with Spencer already! It’s destiny!” All eyes turned to Audrey. She just smiled, holding up her glass. “Marriage is what it is,” she said, deflecting. “Life is never perfect.” I had heard enough. I started to back away, but Spencer suddenly looked up and shouted. “Ethan? What are you doing here?” His voice was laced with theatrical panic. “Audrey and I were just playing a game! It doesn’t mean anything, I swear! Don’t get the wrong idea. Here, I’ll… I’ll do three shots as punishment.” He dramatically threw back three glasses of whiskey. The confused party guests instantly understood. Their faces hardened as they turned on me. “He’s just the stand-in, and he has the nerve to get jealous of the real thing? The arrogance!” Audrey shot me a look of pure annoyance. “Get out,” she said, her voice like ice. I didn’t need to be told twice. I turned to leave. But this time, Spencer followed me out. “Leaving so soon? Don’t you want your mother’s things?” I stopped and turned to face him. I should have known. He had paid the aide to lure me here, to make sure I saw that scene. He was a vicious man; this was a trap, and I was walking right into it. I was about to ignore him and keep walking. But then he pulled something from his pocket. A small, delicate gold locket. He dangled it from his fingers. “Look familiar? Just dug it up yesterday.” My blood ran cold. I recognized it instantly. It was the locket my father gave my mother. She had cherished it her entire life. Yesterday, at the burial, I had placed it inside the urn with her ashes. How did he have it? Had he… had he actually dug up my mother’s grave? Before I could even form the question, his fingers opened. The locket fell to the marble floor and shattered. “Oops,” he said with a smirk. “Clumsy me.” A roar filled my ears. Spencer saw my reaction and his smile widened into a triumphant sneer. He leaned in close, his voice a low, venomous whisper. “You know, those Cane Corsos? I raised them myself. They’re bred to be vicious. I did it all on purpose, Ethan. I had Milo bite you. I suggested to Audrey how she should ‘teach your mother a lesson’…” He paused, savoring the moment. “How does it feel, Ethan? To watch your own mother get torn apart, and be completely powerless to stop it?” “This is what you get for trying to take what’s mine.” “Audrey belongs to me,” he hissed. “Stay away from her. Or next time, it’ll be you in the ground.” My vision turned red. I didn’t think. I just swung. My fist connected with his face. Then again. The world dissolved into a cacophony of shouts and screams. I heard none of it. There was only one thought in my head. Kill him. Avenge my mother. “Stop it!” Audrey’s shriek cut through the haze. Her bodyguards swarmed me, pulling me off him. Spencer knelt on the floor, coughing up blood. “Audrey… don’t blame him,” he gasped. “He asked me to get the locket for him… and I dropped it. It’s my fault. He has every right to kill me.” Audrey rushed to his side, dabbing the blood from his lips with a napkin. She glared at me, her voice filled with disgust. “It was a stupid locket! How much could it possibly be worth that you’d do this to him?” “That’s not—” I started to explain. But she cut me off, her rage boiling over. She grabbed her handbag and swung it, the heavy metal corner catching me squarely on the forehead. “Not what?” she screamed. “I saw it with my own eyes! Are you going to stand there and tell me Spencer is framing you?” The blow split my skin open. Warm blood trickled down my face. I let out a short, bitter laugh and said nothing more. What was the point? She wouldn’t believe anything I said. I shook off the guards’ lingering grip and knelt, carefully picking up the shattered pieces of the locket. The sharp edges sliced my fingertips, but I didn’t feel it. Seeing this, Audrey seemed to hesitate, her anger momentarily flickering. She opened her mouth as if to stop me. But then Spencer let out a series of wracking coughs. “Audrey,” he wheezed, “he’s your husband. And his injuries are worse than mine. You should take him to the hospital.” Audrey sighed, her brief moment of concern vanishing. She turned her full attention back to him. “You’re too kind, Spencer. That’s why people always take advantage of you.” Her voice softened. “What does it matter if he’s my husband? You were the one who protected me in high school when I was at my lowest. You saved me. He hurt my savior. I should be making him pay, not taking him to the hospital. He can dream on.” She helped Spencer to his feet. “Come on. I’m taking you to a doctor. We can’t have a scar ruining that handsome face.” And with that, she led him away without a backward glance. The world around me faded away. All I could see were the broken pieces of my mother’s locket. When I had gathered every last one, I stood up and walked out, ignoring the pointing fingers and whispered condemnations of the crowd. I went back to my mother’s grave. The earth was disturbed. The urn was gone. There was no time for grief. I found it tossed aside in the bushes, cracked open. I fell to my knees and began scooping up the ashes, now mixed with dirt and mud. I held the filthy, broken container in my arms, checked into a cheap motel, and booked the first flight I could find. This place was no longer safe. I would take her home, to the town where we were born, and bury her there. That evening, a message from Audrey appeared on my phone. As cold as ever. Did you get that cut on your head looked at? A second message followed. It’s Spencer’s birthday tomorrow. You will come and bring a gift to apologize. If you do, I will forget about what happened today, and we can try to make this work. And a third. Tell your mother she can come back, too. It’s more comfortable here than wherever she’s hiding. She sent the messages, assuming, as always, that I would bend to her will. I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I forwarded the evidence of Spencer’s illegal ownership of dangerous animals to the police, along with a formal statement about my mother’s death. The next morning, my lawyer confirmed the divorce was final. I put Audrey’s copy of the decree in a courier envelope and had it sent to her. Then, clutching my mother’s ashes, I boarded a flight home, leaving that city and its ghosts behind me forever. I would never see Audrey Hale again. … In the private room at the restaurant, Audrey was still waiting, a hopeful look on her face. Knock, knock, knock. A smile touched her lips. “That must be Ethan, here to apologize.” Spencer, his face artfully bruised, waved a dismissive hand. “Well, I was partly to blame. It doesn’t seem right for him to be the only one apologizing, does it?” Audrey was resolute. “When you do something wrong, you apologize. Stop making excuses for him.” She walked over and opened the door. It wasn’t me. It was a courier. “Audrey Hale? This is for you.” She assumed it was a gift from me, a peace offering. She tore open the corner of the envelope, but before she could look inside, two uniformed police officers walked past her and stopped at their table. “Spencer Croft?” one of them said, looking at the man who had come out to see what the commotion was. “We have a report, filed by an Ethan Cole, that you illegally housed five dangerous animals, resulting in the death of his mother. You need to come with us.” Audrey stared, utterly bewildered. “Ethan’s mother is dead? That’s impossible. There has to be a mistake. I’ll call him right now and clear this up!” She fumbled for her phone, and in her haste, the contents of the envelope slid out and fell to the floor. It was a single, folded document. A certificate of divorce.

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My daughter was mowed down on the campus promenade by a drunk, speeding trust-fund brat. Her femur was shattered. Multiple ribs were broken. She was, and still is, in a coma. His parents requested a meeting to settle things. Her tone was a blade of arrogance, sharp and self-assured. “Ava,” she said, “just sign the liability waiver. Let’s not drag this out and ruin my son’s future.” A wildfire of rage consumed what little reason I had left. I snatched the papers and threw them back in her face. “You can go to hell.” A smirk played on her lips as she looked up at me from her seat. “The law is quite clear. Even in a wrongful death suit, the payout is rarely more than a couple of million. Your daughter isn’t even dead. How about we cover the medical bills and add two million on top of that?” She slid a black credit card from her wallet, flashing it like a trophy. “I’m sure you’ve never seen one of these. It’s an Amex Centurion. Invitation only.” My eyes locked on the card. On the unique, custom filigree pattern in the corner. A pattern I knew intimately. It was the birthday gift I had given my husband. For a sickening moment, I tasted blood in the back of my throat. I swallowed it down, my gaze turning lethal. “Name a price for your son’s life,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I’m buying.” 1 When I first arrived at the hospital, my legs nearly gave out. My daughter, Maya, was a fragile doll wrapped in white, lying still and silent in the ICU. The machines breathed for her. The police officer showed me photos from the scene. Maya and two other girls, their limbs bent at unnatural angles like broken marionettes. Their white university sweatshirts were stained a horrifying, deep crimson. The doctor’s words echoed in my head. She walked right up to death’s door. A fraction of an inch closer… After three days of holding vigil by Maya’s bedside, I got a call from the academy. The parents of the boy who did this wanted to meet. I found her in the headmaster’s office, a woman dripping in jewels, scrolling idly on her phone. She glanced up, her expression one of utter boredom. “You must be Ava, Maya’s mother. Sit.” She slid a document across the polished mahogany table. A liability waiver. “Let’s not waste time. Sign this. My son has a bright future, and I don’t want this… incident… to interfere with it.” The arrogance was suffocating. The entitlement, absolute. The image of my daughter, blood-soaked and broken, flashed behind my eyes. An inferno of rage burned away the edges of my sanity. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from a fury so profound it threatened to tear me apart. I gripped the papers, and with a guttural scream, ripped them to shreds, throwing the pieces in her face. “Your son is a monster. You’re dreaming if you think I’ll let this go!” I lunged at her, a primal urge to claw that smirk off her face, to make her feel a fraction of my pain. Why should the one who caused all this suffering sit there so high and mighty, so utterly untouched? The headmaster and another teacher, who had been standing by like useless statues, finally sprang into action, grabbing my arms. “Mrs. Harrison, please, calm down,” one of them pleaded, as if I were the one out of line. “Mrs. Vance is here in good faith, to find a resolution.” Audrey Vance calmly brushed the paper scraps from her silk blouse, her eyes glittering with derisive pity. “I’ve already had my people look into you,” she said, her voice smooth as venom. “Your daughter wears clothes from Zara and Gap. Non-designer. I’d wager you’re a typical working-class family.” “The law is quite clear,” she repeated, as if lecturing a child. “Even in a wrongful death suit, the payout is rarely more than a couple of million. Your daughter isn’t even dead. How about we cover the medical bills and add two million on top of that?” She leaned forward, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “Two million dollars… that must seem like a lottery ticket for a family like yours. Think about it. If you save a hundred thousand a year, it would take you twenty years to earn that. One little accident, and you get it all at once. You should see this as a blessing, our little act of charity. Don’t be greedy. It’s unbecoming.” I stared at her, the hatred in my soul so potent I could feel it radiating from my skin. My whole body shook. “Your son was drunk, street racing on a campus promenade. He critically injured three people and hurt dozens more. The only place his future belongs is in a prison cell for the rest of his life!” Audrey feigned a theatrical arch of her brow, then let a chilling smile spread across her face. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘Money makes the world go ‘round’?” she purred. “And I have more than just money. I have influence. Why do you think this story hasn’t blown up on the news or social media? Because I…” She flattened her palm and pressed it down, a gesture of absolute power. “…had it suppressed.” As if for emphasis, she produced the black card again, her eyes shining with smug triumph. “Do you know what this is? The Amex Centurion card. You need a net worth in the hundreds of millions to even qualify. A number you can’t even fathom.” My gaze fell again on the familiar, custom filigree in the corner. The world tilted on its axis. My heart, already shattered, plunged into an abyss. That was the supplementary card I had given my husband, Mark. His mistress was trying to use my own money to buy my daughter’s life. The last few weeks clicked into place with horrifying clarity. A month ago, Mark asked for a birthday present. A new luxury sports car. I’d said yes. The model he described matched the one that hit my daughter. Three days ago, the head of my company’s PR department mentioned Mark had requested a full-court press to contain a “negative social media narrative.” Lost in my grief over Maya, I’d approved it without a second thought. A metallic tang of blood filled my throat again. I swallowed it down. My voice, when it came out, was glacial. “Then what’s the price for your son’s life? Name a number. I’m buying.” 2 For a split second, a flicker of genuine shock crossed her face. Then, she let out a short, sharp laugh. “Heh.” “I know you’re upset about your daughter, but tantrums won’t solve your financial problems. And really, what kind of money could you possibly have?” My gaze was unblinking, heavy as stone. “Name a price.” The surprise returned, quickly replaced by a dawning, greedy comprehension. “Oh, I see. You think two million is too low. Fine. Three million. Any more than that, and frankly, your daughter just isn’t worth it.” I repeated myself, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I said, I want to buy your son’s life. Give me a number.” She sized me up, from my simple black dress to my worn-out shoes, and then burst into full-throated laughter. It was a cruel, mocking sound. “Ten million,” she finally gasped, as if it were the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “If you can produce ten million dollars, you can have my son’s life. Ha! But people like you… you couldn’t save that much in a hundred lifetimes.” I nodded slowly. “Ten million. It’s a bit steep for a piece of trash, but fine. His life is mine.” I pulled out my phone and sent a single text to my assistant. Audrey scoffed. Even one of the teachers felt the need to intervene. “Mrs. Harrison, please, be reasonable,” he said, his tone placating. “The Vances are not people you can afford to provoke. You could lose everything—your daughter’s medical coverage, even your job.” I’ve always taught Maya to be modest, to be humble. The teachers at this elite academy, however, were masters of kissing up and kicking down. No one here knew that I was the chairman of the board of Apex Innovations. That my husband, Mark, the company’s CEO, was merely its public face. “I’ve recorded our entire conversation,” I said calmly, looking at Audrey. “And I’d like the teachers present to act as witnesses to our agreement.” That finally seemed to get under her skin. Her face hardened. “Fine. You want to play hardball? You won’t get a single penny. And let me tell you something else. My husband has already dispatched Apex Innovations’ chief legal counsel, David Klein, to handle this. The man has never lost a case in his life.” I nodded again. “Perfect.” The teachers were now looking at me as if I’d completely lost my mind. “The poor woman’s cracked from the trauma,” one whispered to another. “It’s a shame. A real tragedy. But to go up against the wife of Apex’s CEO? In this city, everyone knows they can move mountains.” Just as Audrey’s smugness reached its peak, the parents of another victim arrived. Audrey repeated her offer to them, the same cold speech, the same dismissive tone. The father’s face was a mask of anguish and indecision. “We can’t sign it, honey,” the mother sobbed. “We can’t. Our little girl… there isn’t a single part of her that isn’t broken. How can we just let that monster walk away? I can’t live with it!” The father sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “But the treatments… we need the money. And how can we possibly fight a family like that? If we don’t sign, we’ll probably get nothing at all!” The mother’s cries intensified. “My baby… why did this have to happen to her?” As the father reached for the pen, his hand trembling, I stood up and blocked his path. “Don’t sign it,” I said, my voice firm. “She has no money to give you. I will personally cover all of your child’s medical expenses—every treatment, every surgery, for as long as it takes.” The couple stared at me, bewildered. Audrey shot me a furious glare. “What nonsense are you spouting? This card,” she brandished the Amex, “can handle two million, ten million, whatever I want, in an instant.” A teacher grabbed my arm, frowning. “You’re not just refusing the money for yourself, now you’re interfering with others. They’re being much more sensible than you.” My eyes were like ice, but a slow, cold smile touched my lips. “So confident, are we?” I turned and took the other parents’ hands in mine. Looking at their grief-stricken faces, my own tears finally fell. We are all just parents, wanting to protect our children. “Ask her to run the card right now,” I whispered to them. “If she can’t, it means she’s lying.” The couple squeezed my hands back, their sorrow momentarily replaced by a flicker of resolve. They nodded. The academy’s finance officer was quickly summoned with a POS terminal. “We can process the payment now, and the school will transfer the funds directly to the parents’ accounts.” Audrey held her head high, swiping the black card with a flourish. A mechanical female voice announced, “CARD DISABLED.”

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