I was four months pregnant when my husband started dating a college girl behind my back. And the matchmaker was none other than my own mother-in-law, Brenda. As it turned out, they had a backup plan: whichever woman gave birth to a boy first would get to stay. Later, when they found out I was actually a billionaire heiress, they literally got on their knees and begged for my forgiveness. I didn’t budge. Scum like them deserve to rot in hell. My husband, Ethan, hadn’t come home for a week. Believing that marriage should be built on trust, I didn’t ask too many questions beyond checking in on him. But a woman’s intuition told me something was seriously off. Just as I was starting to suspect he was cheating and getting ready to confront him, he suddenly walked through the front door. He even brought me a bouquet of flowers. I was so thrilled that I practically spun in circles, hugging him tightly and silently scolding myself for overthinking. He was always so good to me. How could he ever do anything to betray me? But later that night, while sorting the laundry, I found a makeup wipe stained with bright red lipstick in his jacket pocket. It made my previous relief look utterly pathetic. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I slammed the dry wipe right onto Ethan’s face and demanded, “What is this? Ethan, are you seeing someone else?!” He froze for a second. Then, his forehead creased, and he snapped impatiently, “What is wrong with you, Chloe? Can you stop being so paranoid all the time?!” His reaction only fueled my anger, but I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Parody? Then explain to me why you’ve been coming home so late every single night. What have you been doing?” He ignored me entirely, rolled over in bed, turned his back to me, and closed his eyes. I kept talking, trying to get a straight answer out of him, but he didn’t utter a single word. Only when I finally stopped talking and the room fell dead silent did he speak up, his voice ice-cold. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m buried in work!” “I have to work tomorrow, so stop keeping me up with this nonsense.” “If I wasn’t working my ass off to bring home the bacon, how do you think we’d pay our bills? Can you grow up for once?” His words choked back everything else I wanted to say. I stared at his back, my heart aching. A wave of intense humiliation and sorrow washed over me, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. Busy with work? What a joke. The tech giant Ethan worked for was owned by my family. I knew his exact workload better than anyone. I had only kept my family’s wealth a secret because I didn’t want him to feel pressured marrying into a rich family. And yet, he was using this job as a cheap excuse to lie to my face.

The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt, and my quiet sobbing turned into loud cries. Ethan noticed my distress and let out a heavy, irritated sigh. He shifted under the covers, making a move to turn around. To be honest, in that split second, I imagined a few different scenarios. I thought he might turn around, wrap his arms around me like he used to, and whisper, “I was actually planning a surprise for you, babe. I didn’t want to ruin it.” Or maybe he would keep lying, telling me how exhausting his job was, playing the victim to guilt-trip me into submission again. Or maybe he would tell me he was facing some serious trouble at work and had to stay late to fix it. … “Can you shut the fuck up? Stop being such a drama queen!” Ethan suddenly bolted upright, snatched his pillow, threw it violently onto the floor, and screamed at me. I froze in pure shock. I had imagined so many reactions, but never this. I stared at him in utter disbelief, unable to comprehend how the sweet, attentive man I married had turned into this monster. He glared at me with pure hatred, as if I were his worst enemy. Hearing the commotion from the guest room next door, my mother-in-law, Brenda, burst in. “What’s going on? What’s wrong, my sweet boy?” Seeing Ethan so angry, Brenda panicked. She immediately rushed over, pulled him into her arms to soothe him, and shot me a venomous look. “What kind of wife are you?! How dare you upset my son like this!” “Don’t think you can boss us around in this house just because you managed to get pregnant!” I finally snapped out of my daze. I shook my head frantically, trying to explain, but my sobbing was so violent that I couldn’t form proper words. “She’s literally psycho,” Ethan muttered under his breath, looking at my tear-stained, messy face with sheer disgust. He threw on his clothes and slammed the door as he stormed out. On his way out, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the table, threw it onto the floor, and crushed it to pieces under his boot. Brenda turned back to me and pointed a finger in my face. “Keep crying in the middle of the night and drive your husband away, you useless brat!” “You better hope that thing in your belly is a boy. If you give birth to some useless girl, you can pack your bags and get the hell out of this family!” With that, she stomped out, and another loud door slam echoed through the house.

I curled up under the blanket alone, not sleeping a wink the entire night. Ethan didn’t come back. I called him more than a dozen times, but it went straight to voicemail every time. As the hours dragged on, my anger slowly faded into worry. Maybe… maybe the lipstick stain was just an accident? What if he was driving while angry and got into a car crash? What if he got into a fight with someone? What if he was hurt? … Endless guilt flooded my mind, and I began to wonder if I had indeed been too sensitive. First thing in the morning, I went downstairs, bought groceries, and cooked a massive, delicious breakfast, planning to apologize to Ethan the moment he walked through the door. But once the table was set and I finally dialed his number, a woman’s voice answered the phone. “Who is this? Ethan forgot his phone here when he left earlier.” “I’ll have him call you back when he gets back.” The girl’s voice was sweet and youthful. I stood frozen in place as if struck by lightning. After a long pause, I asked with a trembling voice, “What… what is your relationship with Ethan?” The girl paused for a second, then let out a soft, amused giggle. “Aren’t you on his Snapchat? He posted photos of us on his stories. I’m his girlfriend.” Girlfriend… What did that mean? Ethan was actually cheating on me? I forced myself to stay calm, burying the storm of emotions raging inside me, and replied after a moment of silence, “Sorry, I dialed the wrong number.” Then, I hung up. I had spent the entire night worrying about his safety, while he was out having the time of his life with another woman? He had even publicly posted photos of his mistress on Snapchat? But as far as I knew, Ethan never posted anything on social media. Whenever we went on trips and took cute couple photos, he always refused to post them, claiming it was too much of a hassle. I opened Snapchat and checked his profile. Indeed, his public stories were completely empty. Had he blocked me from seeing his posts? Just then, Brenda pushed open her bedroom door. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, she rolled her eyes in disgust. “Look at that pathetic face. You look like a curse!” “No wonder you can’t keep your man!” I took a deep breath, ignored her, walked back into my bedroom, and slammed the door. From outside, Brenda’s muffled insults continued. “Getting pregnant has only given you a nasty attitude. What a classless, uneducated small-town brat.” Brenda had always treated me like garbage. But in the past, Ethan would always tell me that his mother just had a sharp tongue but a good heart, and asked me to bear with it. So I did, over and over again. But my patience only made Brenda bolder and her insults meaner. Before, whenever I cried from Brenda’s abuse, Ethan would hold me tight, stroke my hair, and gently comfort me. But the moment I got pregnant, everything changed. Not only did he stop comforting me, but he also started calling me dramatic and high-maintenance. “Every daughter-in-law gets scolded by her mother-in-law. She’s in her fifties, can’t you just let her have her way?” “You’re about to be a mother yourself. Stop being so petty!”

I sat on the bed for a long time. I knew I couldn’t just rely on a single phone call to accuse him of cheating. I needed to wait for Ethan to come home and ask him face-to-face. What if there really was a misunderstanding? With those thoughts spinning in my head, I eventually drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, it was already evening. My stomach was screaming in pain from hunger. Just as I was about to go to the kitchen to find something to eat, I heard voices coming from Brenda’s bedroom. “Mom, Chloe called me today, and Hailey picked up the phone.” “Do you think she knows about me and Hailey?” It was Ethan’s voice! I quieted my footsteps, walked over to Brenda’s door, and peeked through the crack. I pulled out my phone and quietly tapped the voice memo app to record. Brenda’s tone was filled with utter contempt. “What are you scared of? Even if she knows, what can she do? She doesn’t have any proof!” “Besides, she’s just a penniless girl from a dead-end town with no family backing here. She even quit her job because of the pregnancy.” “She won’t dare make a scene. If she leaves you, she won’t even be able to pay rent!” “By the way, how are things going with Hailey? That girl has wide hips, she’s definitely built to give us a grandson.” Hearing Brenda’s reassurance, Ethan relaxed, his voice turning light and casual. “I have to thank you for setting us up, Mom. Hailey’s body is amazing. Chloe used to be hot, but now that she’s pregnant, she just grosses me out.” Brenda let out a sly chuckle and nudged Ethan. “So, last night…” Brenda trailed off, looking at her son with a knowing smirk. Ethan grinned and nodded. “It was her first time, so she insisted on a condom. Annoying as hell.” Then, a greasy, repulsive grin spread across his face. “But I poked a few holes in it when she wasn’t looking. There’s a high chance she’s already pregnant.” Brenda patted Ethan’s shoulder and laughed. “That’s my smart boy!” “We’ll see which one of them gives us a boy first, and we’ll keep that one!” Ethan nodded in agreement. “Whatever you say, Mom! Whichever one gives birth to a useless girl gets kicked to the curb!” “If they both have boys, we’ll keep Hailey. She’s younger and tighter anyway.” With that, Brenda pulled Ethan into a tight hug. Ethan buried his face in his mother’s chest, snuggling against her like a toddler, and murmured, “Chloe is asleep. Mom, can I sleep in your room tonight?” “Since I married Chloe a year ago, I haven’t slept with you once. I miss my mommy!”

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After three years of secret marriage with Julian Ryder, he told me he would give me a surprise at his new company’s launch party. I thought he was finally going to announce me as his wife to the world, but instead, he took his first love’s hand. With tears in my eyes, I demanded answers, only to receive his ruthless mockery: “It’s been three years, Evie. I’ve been sick of your face for a long time.” A month later, holding his half-brother’s arm, I showed up at the Ryder family gala. The massive diamond ring on my ring finger blinded him with rage, while the handsome, younger brother beside me smirked contemptuously at him: “It’s been three years, Julian. Honestly, I’m tired of calling her my sister-in-law anyway.” 【1】 “The best surprise for my beloved.” Under Julian’s latest Snapchat story, our mutual friends were leaving comments like crazy. “No way, man! Keeping it a secret from Evie to pull off something this romantic?” “Are you finally going public? Congratulations!” The picture on his story showed a romantic sea of 9,999 red roses and a massive, custom-made diamond ring. It was in my favorite color—a rare, natural purple diamond. It was crystal clear. It must have been incredibly hard for him to find one of such high quality. Looking at the Snapchat story, I couldn’t help but smile. We had a huge fight last month. Julian hadn’t texted me for over two weeks, and he hadn’t even come home. I thought he was giving me the silent treatment because of our argument. But it turned out he was secretly preparing a surprise for me… Tomorrow was the press conference for the public listing of the Ryder Group’s new subsidiary. This was also Julian’s first major media interview since securing his position as the sole heir of the Ryder family. For Julian to prepare something so grand, was he planning to publicly reveal my status as Mrs. Ryder? After three years of secret marriage, my wait was finally paying off. I hugged my pillow, lying in bed, imagining Julian standing in the spotlight tomorrow, proudly announcing to the world: “She is my legal wife, Evelyn!” He would hold my hand and kiss my forehead gently. I couldn’t help but screenshot his Snapchat story to look at it again and again. He actually forgot to block me from seeing it. What an idiot. I wanted to text him to ruin his “little surprise,” but then I thought about how busy he must be at the office. Since he was being so sweet, I decided to forgive him a little early. I would buy a nice dress and wait for tomorrow’s surprise. The next day, I wore a stunning red evening gown and sat in the VIP section, watching the confident, handsome man on stage from afar. He looked sharp, and his voice was deep and steady, just like the day I first fell for him. “Today, I want to publicly announce someone very important to me.” “Without her, I wouldn’t be standing here today.” The spotlight followed him as he walked down the stage, coming right toward my row. My heart raced, and I shyly reached out my hand, waiting for him to take it. But he only gave me a cold, passing glance, walked right past me, and grabbed the hand of Seraphina Vance, the heiress of the Vance family. “Will you marry me, Sera?” He slipped that beautiful purple diamond ring onto Seraphina’s finger, his eyes filled with a deep tenderness I had never seen before. It was a perfect fit. The camera flashes from the media went wild. “It’s the Vance heiress! What a perfect high-society match!” “When is the wedding, you two?” Seraphina’s expression turned from shock to pure bliss, a beautiful blush creeping up her cheeks. “This is so sudden… I’m not even prepared…” The Ryder and Vance families were both elite powerhouses in New York, but there had never been any rumors of them dating. The reporters went crazy, instantly surrounding the two of them. In the chaotic crowd, someone stepped on my red gown, leaving a dirty footprint on the fabric. My hand remained frozen in the air. Under the bright camera lights, the sight of him and Seraphina looking so in love was so blinding that tears started rolling down my face. I stood there like a pathetic clown, while they were hailed as a match made in heaven. The surprise was never meant for me. The man I loved was abandoning me to marry someone else. 【2】 Because I loved him and didn’t want to ruin his reputation in front of the cameras, my confrontation was pathetic and quiet. I watched Julian laughing and talking with Seraphina backstage. I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers and sent him a message. “I am your wife. Why did you propose to her?” My hands were shaking so hard that the message was full of typos. From a distance, I saw him glance at his phone. His eyebrows knitted together for a second, then relaxed. My phone buzzed. His reply was short and ice-cold. “Get lost.” I waited with red eyes until all the guests had left, then followed Julian to the VIP parking lot. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” I refused to let it go, raising my voice as I ran after him. Seraphina had no idea about my secret existence. She looked at Julian, confused. “Julian, who is this crazy woman?” He whispered something sweet in Seraphina’s ear to reassure her, then walked over to me and threw a set of divorce papers right at my chest. A wave of despair washed over me. I grabbed his arm with tear-filled eyes, like a drowning person clutching at a straw. “It’s my fault for arguing with you. You’re just trying to make me jealous with another woman, right?” During our three years of marriage, there were occasionally other girls around him. But every time I got mad, he would always coax me back with sweet words. I assumed he was just furious because I had pushed him to go public with our marriage a few days ago. “Please don’t do this. I was wrong, okay? We don’t have to go public… As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.” He just looked down at me. The way I was begging him made me look like a stray dog in his eyes. “The Vance family can help my business expand. But you?” He let out a low laugh, his voice dripping with pure disdain. “Other than warming my bed, what value do you bring to my life?” My grip on his sleeve slowly slipped away. He brushed his sleeve in disgust, then leaned down to whisper the most brutal words directly into my ear: “It’s been three years, Evie. I’m sick of your face, and honestly, I’m done playing with you.” I watched his sports car roar away with Seraphina in the passenger seat. Overwhelmed by despair, I slid down against the concrete wall and collapsed onto the cold ground, gasping for air. Tears poured down, soaking the divorce papers in my hands. My heart ached so badly, as if it were being crushed by giant, invisible hands. He wasn’t always like this. He used to love me so much that he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect me. Now, he was using the most toxic words to cut all ties with me. He seemed to have completely forgotten that I was the one who saved his life. Years ago, Julian had lost his mother in a brutal family power struggle. Depressed and broken, he wanted to end his life. That day, on the busy highway bridge, I saw him standing alone on the edge, ready to jump. Risking a horrific car crash, I slammed on my brakes, ran over, and dragged him back from the edge of death. In my cheap, tiny apartment, a spark of hope returned to his eyes. Just like a cliché romance novel, the broken, suicidal boy fell deeply in love with his savior. On my birthday, he told me he wanted to take me somewhere special. When he placed our signed marriage certificates in front of me, I felt a rush of pure happiness. “This is my promise to you, Evie. I will never make the woman I love cry.” But the Ryder family was a snake pit. As an unloved eldest son, he had no maternal backing. He had to fight tooth and nail to become the heir. I understood his struggles. I knew the board members were watching his every move. He told me that having a wife with no elite background would ruin his chances of securing the inheritance. “Just wait a little longer, Evie.” He promised that once he took full control of the Ryder family, he would give me a grand wedding that everyone would envy. I loved his ambition and his drive so much. I truly believed I would spend the rest of my life with him. But I didn’t realize that ambition would eventually consume his heart. The marriage I cherished was nothing but a transactional stepping stone to him. My three years of devotion were nothing but a joke. 【3】 I don’t even remember how I dragged myself back to the apartment, or how I forced myself to sign those divorce papers. Julian was incredibly efficient. He had already ordered his assistants to pack my things and throw them out of the house. He was already moving Seraphina into the master bedroom that used to be mine. I sat in the living room like a ghost, listening to the muffled sounds of their laughter through the closed door. On the table in front of me sat a cold black credit card. Half an hour ago, he tried to buy off my three years of devotion with money. “There’s three million dollars on this card. Let’s end this cleanly.” “And don’t ever bother me again.” My parents died when I was young, and I had lived alone in New York for years. I thought marrying Julian meant I finally had a family. But my love was misplaced, and now I had no way to take it back. I wanted to call someone to talk to, but when I opened my phone, my entire contact list was filled with people associated with Julian. During these three years, to help him secure his position, I had accompanied him to countless business dinners. The irregular sleep schedule and constant drinking had made me look exhausted, much older than other girls my age. My stomach burned with a sharp, agonizing pain. The doorbell rang loudly. I struggled to stand up and opened the door. Standing there was Julian’s younger half-brother, Christian Ryder. Unlike Julian, Christian grew up surrounded by love. He was an artistic genius with grand dreams in the fine arts. With no interest in corporate greed, he never cared about the Ryder family inheritance, so Julian never saw him as a threat. I had only met Christian a few times, so I had no idea how he found my place. Through my blurry, drunken eyes, I could see the deep worry on his face. I grabbed his arm and started rambling like a crazy person. I talked about how Julian and I met, how happy we used to be, and how brutally he had abandoned me. “He promised me a real wedding! He’s a liar! A total bastard!” Terrified that I might hurt myself, Christian gently grabbed my flailing hands. Three years ago, he was just a high school kid. Now, he had grown into a handsome young man who stood a full head taller than me. His beautiful, expressive eyes weren’t cold like Julian’s. They were filled with a mix of longing and restraint, looking like a startled deer that had accidentally stumbled into my messy, broken life. “Evie, he’s not worth it.” I laughed and cried at the same time, waving my hand dismissively. “Christian, don’t call me that anymore. I don’t deserve to be anyone’s sister-in-law.” “Come on, have a drink with me!” My voice was forced, still holding onto the remnants of my love for Julian. Christian’s eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve wanted to stop calling you that for a long time anyway…” I only saw the worry on his face, failing to notice the deep passion swirling in his eyes. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I woke up and saw Christian lying naked next to me, that I realized how wild last night had been. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been drunk in so long, but I didn’t know I could be so reckless… I had just divorced my ex-husband, and now I was in bed with his younger brother. The young man’s chest was covered in light hickeys, and his muscular back had faint, healing scratch marks. His breathing was soft and even, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly. Oh my god. He just turned twenty-one, didn’t he? I tried to slide out of bed quietly to make my escape, but his hand shot out and gripped my wrist firmly. “Where are you going, Evie?” Christian flipped over, pinning me beneath him. His deep, raspy morning voice was incredibly sexy:

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I bought a bouquet of fresh red roses, wanting to give my fiancée a surprise. Instead, I caught her completely naked, tangling with another man on the bridal bed I had painstakingly prepared for our upcoming wedding. And that man was none other than Justin Carter—my best friend, the guy I’d been joined at the hip with since childhood. Later, the wedding went on as scheduled. But I made sure every single guest got to enjoy a high-definition video of them screwing. After her reputation was completely ruined, she came crying, begging for my forgiveness. But she ended up being stabbed and permanently disabled by my dear “best friend.” 【1】 These past few weeks, I had been working myself to the bone preparing for our wedding. Today, I took a day off specifically to decorate our new house. I glanced at my watch as I unlocked the front door. It was 10:50 AM. Chloe was lazy. She was probably still sleeping in. I couldn’t help but think of the sweet morning kiss she had planted on my forehead before I left earlier. I touched my forehead, smiling like a happy kid. Treading softly through the hallway, I held the red roses behind my back and reached for the master bedroom door handle. Then, I heard it—the unmistakable, breathless moans coming from inside. Through the crack of the door, I saw my girlfriend of five years, Chloe Miller, tangling on the bed with a man whose face I couldn’t see. They were going at it so hard that the bed wouldn’t stop squeaking. Chloe’s giggles, mixed with the man’s dirty talk, drifted straight into my ears. “Baby, who’s better? Me or him?” “You, of course! He’s just a pathetic, rich simp.” “You look so sexy in this lingerie. Did he buy this for you?” The man slid the silk strap off her shoulder, his hands roaming over every inch of her skin. Chloe closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Of course. He has more money than he knows what to do with. It’s his job to spend it on me, isn’t it?” Listening to those filthy words, I gripped the doorframe. Rage almost obliterated the last shred of my sanity. Five years ago, right after Chloe broke up with her ex, I had showered her with flowers, jewelry, and endless affection for six months before I finally won her heart. I genuinely loved her, even though she had always been cold and distant. I believed that if I just loved her enough, treated her like a queen, and met every single one of her material desires, she would eventually fall in love with me. Last month, I finally gathered the courage to propose. To my surprise, she agreed without a second thought. Filled with beautiful dreams of our future, I threw myself into planning the perfect wedding. She, too, changed her cold attitude. She started kissing me goodbye in the mornings and greeting me with a warm smile when I came home. For a moment, I thought I was finally experiencing true happiness. Until I saw this disgusting scene. The happiness that had filled my heart for weeks shattered into a million pieces. Was I not good enough to her? Why did she have to humiliate me like this? It turned out that these five years of love were nothing but a one-man show. She had had a side piece all along. She only kept me around as her personal ATM, bleeding me dry for her lavish lifestyle. My family was incredibly wealthy. My parents were successful real estate investors. Though they passed away early, they left me a massive trust fund. I was raised by my wealthy Uncle Marcus, never lacking anything. I could easily live a luxurious life without working a single day. So, she was only with me for my money? I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept that she was enjoying my wealth while using my money to fund her secret hookups. But then, I thought about how sweet she had been to me lately. Maybe… maybe she just made a mistake? Like a wild bachelorette party mistake? Maybe she just hired a hot male model on a whim? If she was willing to apologize, if she just gave me a good explanation, I would probably still forgive her… Five years of dating was too long. I really couldn’t bear to throw it all away. Suppressing the urge to kick the door open and smash both of their faces in, I slammed my fist hard against the hallway wall. My silent rage bled through my knuckles. *Thud!* The two on the bed froze. Chloe tried to get up to investigate, but the man eagerly pinned her back down. “Stop it… what if Ethan is back?” “Don’t worry about him. What can he do? He’s practically a dead man anyway.” *A dead man? What did he mean by that? I was standing right here, perfectly healthy.* A wave of confusion washed over me. I stopped my footsteps and kept listening. “Are you sure about this? Messing with his car brakes… will it really kill him?” “Trust me. Back in college, we used to go street racing. I’ve known him for ten years; I know exactly how he drives.” “I managed to coax him into signing a one-million-dollar accidental death insurance policy a couple of days ago. The sole beneficiary is me!” “Once you guys are officially married and we make our move, you’ll get his entire estate too!” My heart, which had already sunk into a frozen abyss, turned completely cold. I couldn’t see his face before, but now, hearing that familiar voice, I knew exactly who it was. Justin Carter. We had ten years of friendship. We grew up together. He was closer to me than a biological brother. Three years ago, when his family went bankrupt, I immediately hired him as the Vice President of my company—only one step below me. At the time, he patted my shoulder and promised he would help me take the company to the next level, swearing he would never betray my trust. For a second, I felt completely disoriented. The hallway around me began to blur. What was real in this world, and what was a lie? The woman I cherished above all else, and the brother I would have taken a bullet for. Since when had they been screwing behind my back? They were actually planning to murder me for my insurance money and steal everything I owned… 【2】 *Calm down.* I walked quietly into the guest bathroom, locked the door, and splashed cold water on my face. I needed to think of a way to deal with this trash couple. On the coffee table in the living room lay the insurance policy she hadn’t had time to hide. It triggered a memory from three days ago. Chloe must have been bragging about her “victory” to Justin before I came home. The reason she had been so affectionate lately was to keep me from suspecting anything. Three days ago, she had sweet-talked me into drinking a lot of wine. While I was completely wasted, she took my ID and forged my signature on the application. After it was approved, she grabbed my phone and deleted all the confirmation texts and call logs. The hilarious part? She had been living off my money for years. Even the premium for this insurance policy was paid using my credit card. She really took “parasite” to a whole new level. They wanted to make me a fool and steal my estate? Without hesitation, I called the insurance company, declared that the policy was opened without my knowledge or consent, and cancelled it immediately. The disgusting sounds from the bedroom were still going. I walked out of the house silently and called our wedding planner. “Hi, there’s a change of plans. I want to swap out the video slideshow for the reception.” Because I wanted to respect Chloe, I had lived like a monk for the past five years. Our physical intimacy had never gone past hugging and kissing. To gather cute footage for our wedding video, I had installed a small, discreet camera in our bedroom a few days ago. This morning, I was still planning to edit a clip of our morning kiss into the slideshow to show everyone our “sweet love.” Now, it seemed entirely unnecessary. I had spent five years treating her like a saint, only for my “best friend” to get the prize. Was there any man on earth more pathetic than me? I opened my laptop, downloaded the footage of their passionate afternoon session from the cloud, and replaced the original wedding slideshow file. Since they loved screwing behind my back so much, I was going to let them perform in front of all our family and friends. Over the next few days, I acted completely normal. I didn’t reject any of Chloe’s advances. “Babe, let’s go get our marriage license registered early.” Under the dim lights, she breathed softly into my ear, wearing the exact same red silk lingerie she wore when she slept with Justin. She was using every trick in the book to seduce me. In the past, this would have been the ultimate reward for me. But now, looking at her, she was no different from a streetwalker. She just wanted to become my legal wife as quickly as possible so she could claim my estate once I “accidentally” died, and then run off with Justin. I closed my eyes, forced a tired smile, and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. “I’m so exhausted tonight, babe. Let’s do it another day.” She pulled away in disappointment. She tried to tease me a bit more, but seeing that I was as unmoved as stone, she rolled over and went to sleep. Trying to lock down my assets before the wedding? No way. The big day arrived quickly. I had specially invited our high school and college classmates—anyone who had witnessed our five-year relationship. Over a hundred guests packed the grand ballroom. Chloe, dressed in a gorgeous white bridal gown, gasped as she looked at the crowd. “Wow, even the nerdy kids from college are here! How did you manage to get them all to come?” Chloe was incredibly vain. This lavish wedding had boosted her ego to the sky. Seeing all her old classmates here to admire her luxury made her ecstatic, though she still tried to act surprised. Only I knew how much money I had spent on “gift cards” just to make sure every single one of them showed up for the show. I gently took her white-gloved hand and kissed it, acting mysterious. “I just wanted everyone to witness our happiest moment.” She swung my hand playfully, looking so sweet and innocent. You could never guess she was the same woman who had been moaning under another man in our bed just days ago. “You’re the best, Ethan. I love you so much.” Right. Loved me enough to sleep with my best friend and plot my murder. “Alright! Let’s welcome our beautiful couple, Ethan Vance and Chloe Miller!” the MC announced. “And now, for the next part of our ceremony, please look at the big screen for a special tribute video!” Chloe held my hand tightly, not forgetting to throw a subtle, flirtatious glance at Justin, who was standing right next to us as my best man. Everyone turned their eyes to the massive projector screen. I clenched my fists, took a deep breath, and quietly let go of Chloe’s hand.

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I used to be a food delivery driver in a sleepy Texas border town. No matter how hard I worked, my fiancée, Chloe, called off our engagement because I couldn’t afford the fifty-thousand-dollar wedding and the house down payment her family demanded. That was when Victoria, a mysterious woman who ran an overnight courier service, came to me. She told me a man needed to have some pride, and asked if I wanted to make some real money with her. So, I followed her to her warehouse. Every night at midnight, I would drive a beat-up, modified cargo van to a remote, private estate on a hill we called Copper Ridge. My beautiful boss set three strict rules for me: First, never open the cargo doors. Second, pretend to be deaf no matter what kind of noise you hear. Third, do not say a single word to anyone at Copper Ridge, unless they ask, “Is the cargo here?” Then, and only then, you answer, “Yes.” I once asked her what would happen if I broke the rules. Victoria just gave me a cold look. “We’re all adults here, Ethan. You get paid to do a job. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Until one stormy night, due to an unexpected breakdown, I broke the second rule…

“Yeah, I get it. I’m turning back now.” I sat in the driver’s seat of the cargo van, put down my phone, and slowed down to turn back toward Copper Ridge. Victoria had just called. She said they hadn’t finished unloading the cargo, so I had to make another trip back. It was pouring outside. The heavy rain hammered against the metal roof of the van, making a deafening racket. Under normal circumstances, the sound of rain would be quite soothing. But the mountain road was treacherous. Especially the path up Copper Ridge. Even though it was paved, the shifting soil underneath meant the asphalt was constantly cracked and riddled with deep potholes. The second half of the road was even worse—just one incredibly steep, hairpin turn after another. I didn’t dare go over twenty-five miles per hour. The old van wasn’t sealed well. Besides the heavy rain, a fierce wind was howling outside. Even though it was mid-summer, it was freezing inside the cabin. “Help… help me…” Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice—coming from the cargo hold right behind me! In an instant, whether from the chill or sheer terror, goosebumps exploded all over my arms. The van had been heavily modified. A thick, solid steel partition separated the driver’s cabin from the cargo area. I had never once been in the back. Every time I arrived at the luxury estate at Copper Ridge, I would get out, smoke a cigarette, and wait for their people to unload the goods. Then, I would just drive away. “Why the hell is there a woman’s voice in the back in the middle of the night…?” Was it a ghost? As an experienced driver, especially with a manual clutch like this old van, I could tell by the drag on the engine whether the vehicle was carrying a heavy load. Remembering my boss’s rules, I forced down the rising panic in my chest and kept driving. The eerie voice kept pleading. She sounded incredibly weak. She kept repeating the same words, sending chills down my spine. It was starting to make me anxious. Distracted, I didn’t see the massive puddle ahead. The front tire slammed into a deep ditch. The engine sputtered and died. “Damn it!” I slammed my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. I turned the key, trying to restart the engine. It cranked slowly, making a dying *whir-whir-whir* sound, but refused to catch. “Help…” With the engine dead, the wind and rain seemed to quiet down, making the cry for help even clearer. It was definitely coming from the cargo hold. There was a real person inside! I threw on my raincoat, grabbed the heavy wrench from the passenger seat, and cautiously walked to the back of the van. I tapped the metal door with the wrench. The cries for help stopped instantly. “Who the hell is…” Mid-sentence, my boss’s second rule flashed in my mind: *Pretend to be deaf no matter what kind of noise you hear.* A horrifying realization hit me—was I smuggling something highly illegal? Or worse? I quickly clasped my hands together, mumbling whatever prayers I could remember from Sunday school, and turned to get back into the cab. “Help me! I’m not a ghost!” The rain was letting up, and the wind had died down. The woman’s voice was much clearer now. She definitely didn’t sound like a ghost. I had never heard of a ghost speaking with a local Texas accent. But thinking of Victoria’s warnings, I hesitated. *Buzz! Buzz!* My phone started ringing loudly. “Aren’t you there yet? You’re taking too long. Did something happen?” Victoria’s cold voice came through the speaker. “Yeah, the rain is crazy. The van stalled out.” “Victoria, seriously, can you get a better vehicle next time? This piece of junk should have been scrapped years ago. It breaks down every other day!” I didn’t say a word about driving into the puddle. Instead, I blamed the vehicle. Rule number one of being an underpaid worker: never blame yourself. Bosses don’t actually care about you anyway. You have to deflect the blame immediately. “I see. Wait for roadside assistance. And remember the three rules I gave you.” “Otherwise, you might not live to see tomorrow.” She emphasized the last sentence heavily before hanging up. Her tone made me seriously wonder: was I really transporting something dangerous? The pay was incredibly high. When I was delivering food, I worked from six in the morning until midnight just to make about three thousand dollars a month. But with this job, I only had to make one trip at midnight, and I got paid five thousand dollars a week. Victoria even let me stay at her place. When she found out I liked gaming, she even put a high-end gaming PC in my room. Free room and board, great pay, and video games. It seemed like the perfect job. The only catch was that Victoria didn’t wear much when she was at home. She walked around in very revealing clothes. It made me hot under the collar every single time. But since she always spoke to me with such a cold, professional detachment, I forced myself to ignore any wild fantasies. As I sat in the driver’s seat playing on my phone, waiting for help, the cargo hold rattled again. This time, the movement was violent. The entire van rocked slightly. I heard the screech of rusted metal rubbing together. But I forced myself to stay still. *Boom!* A flash of lightning illuminated the dark forest. In that split second, a pale, ghostly woman’s face appeared right outside my driver-side window. “Holy shit! A ghost!!!” I screamed, terrified out of my mind. I instinctively scrambled over to the passenger side. My stomach knotted in pain. The sheer terror had triggered my chronic ulcers. Trembling and clutching my stomach, I pointed the wrench at the window. “Are you a person or a ghost?!” The forest plunged back into pitch blackness. When the next bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, the face was gone. I swallowed hard, slowly turning my head to look at the passenger-side window. It was too dark to see anything outside. I unlocked my phone and turned on the flashlight, pointing it at the glass. The terrifyingly pale face was right there, staring back at me. Her dark, hollow eyes were filled with absolute despair and resentment. My brain short-circuited, and everything went black. … I didn’t know how much time had passed when I finally woke up. A violent jolting motion dragged my consciousness back to reality. Dazed and confused, I heard voices nearby. “He was completely passed out when we found him.” “He’s always been smart, kept his mouth shut. He’s lasted the longest out of all the drivers. Are you sure we have to do this?” “…Yeah, copy that, boss.” I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t move. Looking down, I realized I was tightly bound with thick ropes. “Marcus? Marcus, what the hell? Why am I tied up?” The man I called Marcus was the guy who received the cargo. Every night after midnight when I reached the Copper Ridge estate, Marcus would toss me an imported cigarette, tell me to take a break, and unload the van by himself. By the time I finished my smoke, he was usually done. We didn’t talk much, but we were friendly. A cigarette is the quickest way to break the ice between guys. Even though we were both just working a job, Marcus drove a much nicer car than my beat-up van. He drove a brand-new Mercedes SUV. “You screwed up, Ethan. The boss wants you punished. Cooperate, and you might still keep your job.” Marcus’s voice was dead cold. “I get it if I made a mistake, but is tying me up really necessary?” “I’m just a guy trying to earn a living. This is a bit degrading, don’t you think?” “Degrading?” Marcus looked back at me and laughed, a dark, unsettling sound. We drove in silence after that. Soon, Marcus pulled up to the estate. I usually drove in through the back gate, but this time, he took me through the front. I had no idea how luxurious the place actually was. Having barely finished high school, the only word I could think of to describe it was “palatial.” But the gold-trimmed hallway walls were lined with framed, explicit photographs of various young women. Laughter and cries echoed from the rooms lining the hallway. I could hear the distinct, sickening sound of a whip cracking against bare flesh. Marcus led the way, pulling me along like a dog on a leash. I felt incredibly humiliated. Along the way, we passed a few women who threw cold, indifferent glances at me. I squirmed under their stares. I was a man, and I had my pride! “Marcus, this is too much. I’m a human being, not an animal!” “Too much?” Marcus said flatly, “You’re lucky to still be breathing. Don’t start crying about human rights now.” He gave the rope a violent tug. I stumbled, and he shoved me hard into a room at the end of the hall. The room was dimly lit and largely empty. There was only a leather sofa and a marble coffee table. A man with a short, slicked-back ponytail sat on the sofa. The tea on the table in front of him was still steaming. I recognized him. He was the big boss Marcus had mentioned. He had a massive black dragon tattoo wrapping down his arm. A jagged, terrifying scar ran from his temple down to his jawline, giving him a permanently menacing look. Scarface—Leo—glanced at me with total indifference. He picked up a cigar cutter and began prepping a cigar. “Did you find the cargo?” he asked. Marcus shook his head. “She probably ran. I already sent the boys down the mountain road to track her.” “The terrain out here is brutal. She can’t outrun a car on foot.” Leo lit his cigar, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled a thick cloud of blue smoke. The smoke swirled around him, obscuring his face. Then, he reached behind his back, pulled out a wicked, razor-sharp hunting knife, and tossed it onto the coffee table. “You know the rules,” he said quietly, taking another drag. I watched in horror as Marcus’s brow furrowed for a split second. Then, grinding his teeth, he stepped forward and picked up the knife. Before I could even process what was happening, he brought the blade down and sliced off his own pinky finger. “Holy shit…” A wave of absolute terror washed over me. Marcus didn’t even flinch. Was I really trapped in some twisted cartel den? Based on their conversation, the “ghost” I saw last night wasn’t a ghost at all. She was a captive who had tried to escape. What about me? Were they going to cut my finger off too? Marcus, incredibly, didn’t make a sound. He bandaged his bleeding hand with a rag and asked Leo, “What do we do with him?” He was pointing at me. “Throw him in the back. Feed him to the dogs,” Leo said, his tone as casual as if he were ordering a pizza. “Whoa, hold on, man! I’m just the delivery guy! This is insane! You can’t do this, it’s illegal!” Leo looked at me, a cruel smirk playing on his scarred face. “Illegal? Kid, we aren’t in the States anymore.” Not in the U.S.?! My heart plunged into a frozen abyss. Suddenly, it all clicked. My boss’s warehouse was right on the Texas border. No wonder I had to drive at midnight on those dark, unmarked dirt roads. I had been unconsciously crossing the border into Mexico every single night! Leo gave a slight nod. Marcus understood immediately. He grabbed me, covered my mouth, and dragged me out of the room. His fresh blood smeared all over my face. For the first time in my life, I was dragged like a dog in front of a crowd. Despite the terror, a burning rage began to swell inside me. Marcus felt me resisting and, without warning, slammed his fist into my face. Stars exploded in my vision, and my head throbbed. A moment later, I was thrown into a filthy, concrete pen. Then, he locked the gate and left, likely to tend to his severed finger. A single, grime-covered bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, yellow glow. Even though it looked like an animal pen, I could smell a mixture of cheap women’s perfume and rotting copper. I looked into the shadows of the pen and gasped. I wasn’t alone. Three women were huddling in the corner, their torn clothes barely covering them. They stared at me with wide, terrified eyes. One was covered in horrific whip lashes. Another was nearly naked, her belly slightly swollen—she was pregnant. The last one had a brutal “X” carved into her right cheek. “Are you guys…” After a few quiet words, my heart grew even heavier. They were the “cargo” I had been delivering all this time. The woman with the scarred face seemed mentally unstable, and the whipped woman couldn’t speak—her tongue had been cut out. Only the pregnant girl, Lily, was able to tell me what had happened to them. Lily asked how I ended up here. I made up a quick lie. I didn’t dare tell them the truth. If they knew I was the driver who brought them to this hellhole, they would probably tear me apart. Before long, Marcus returned with a fresh bandage on his hand. He didn’t say a word. He dragged me out of the pen and began pulling me toward the dark woods behind the estate. In the distance, I could hear the low, menacing growls of large attack dogs. Marcus and Leo were monsters. I knew that if I didn’t act fast, I was going to end up as dog food. I swallowed my fear and looked at Marcus. “Marcus… look, I’m a dead man anyway. Can you grant me one last wish before I go?” Marcus paused, turning his cold eyes toward me. Seeing his hesitation, I pressed on. “You know I only took this job for the money because my fiancée left me. I told you about it.” “I’ve never… you know, been with a woman. Can I at least experience it once before I die?” “There are three girls right there in the pen…” “Don’t think I’m a freak, Marcus. But if I die a virgin, I’ll haunt this place forever!” I was betting he would say yes. Lily had whispered to me earlier that Marcus was a sick bastard who enjoyed watching people suffer and degrade themselves. Marcus stared at me for a long moment, then let out a sick chuckle. “Well… I guess that’s a fair request. For old times’ sake, I’ll let you have some fun.” Relief washed over me. He dragged me back and threw me into the pen for the second time. “Make it quick. I want to see a good show,” he said, leaning against the bars with a sadistic grin. “What are you waiting for? Get to it!” Seeing me hesitate, Marcus’s grin faded. “You trying to stall for time, kid?” “It won’t work. No one can save you from Leo.” When I still didn’t move, Marcus lost patience. He stepped inside the pen, grabbed Lily by her hair, and dragged her over to me. “Do it! You’re about to die anyway, what are you hesitating for?” “Marcus, man, you’ve got to untie my hands first. How am I supposed to do anything like this?” Marcus blinked, then burst into a loud laugh. “Right! Of course!” He knelt down and began to untie me. But he only untied my legs, keeping my hands bound in front of me. As Marcus bent over, I locked eyes with Lily and gave her a desperate nod. Lily gritted her teeth and slammed her entire body weight into Marcus.

He was caught off guard and tumbled to the ground. Lily was vicious—she immediately sank her teeth into Marcus’s freshly bandaged, injured hand. I didn’t waste a second, raising my legs and stomping violently on his back. The whipped woman joined the fray, quickly tearing at the ropes around my wrists. Once my hands were free, I pinned Marcus to the dirt and began raining heavy punches down on his face. The girl with the “X” scar on her cheek, triggered by the chaos, crawled over and bit hard into his thigh. This was the plan Lily and I had hastily whispered about. To survive, we had to fight dirty. But I hadn’t expected the other two women to join in so fiercely. With our combined forces, we quickly subdued Marcus. “If he hadn’t been injured already, we never would have pulled this off!” I gasped, using my own ropes to tie him up tightly. “What do we do now?” Lily asked, trembling. I pointed toward the back of the estate. “There are cars parked out there. We take one and run.” Leo was right about one thing—the mountain road was brutal. If we tried to run on foot, they would catch us in minutes. Our only shot was to steal a car. Fortunately, most of Leo’s men were out searching the mountain. I quickly found an SUV with the keys left in the ignition. I waved the three women inside, jumped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the car into reverse to turn around. Suddenly, a blinding light cut through the darkness. Before I could react, another vehicle rammed into us at full speed. *Crash!* The violent impact flipped our SUV onto its side. Because we were rushing, none of us had buckled our seatbelts. My head slammed hard against the window, and darkness claimed me once again. *** When I woke up the next day, I was back in the filthy concrete pen. Marcus was sitting on the low concrete wall, staring down at me with pure hatred. He had fresh gauze wrapped around his head, his hand was heavily bandaged, and he was holding a black stun baton. “Look who’s awake,” he sneered. Without another word, he stepped down and began beating me with the heavy baton. I tried to shield myself, but the cold metal rods bruised my ribs and back. I wanted to fight back, but I knew that if I did, he would kill me on the spot. Thankfully, my abusive, alcoholic father had given me a high tolerance for beatings when I was a kid. Otherwise, I would have broken. I swore to myself right then: if I ever got the chance, I would kill this bastard. “Hey, stop hitting him. We need to deal with this one first.” Leo appeared, flanked by a few of his henchmen. Two of them were carrying a semi-conscious woman between them. My eyes widened. It was the pale-faced woman from the storm—the undercover who had scared me in my van! Leo patted Marcus’s cheek with a cold smile. “We have some big-paying clients coming tonight. Victoria has prepped a new batch of cargo.” “You’re driving tonight, Marcus.” Then, Leo turned his gaze to me and the other women in the pen. “As for these… it’d be a waste to feed them to the dogs. Let’s sell them off to the buyers.” … The courtyard fell quiet after they left. Marcus had gone down the mountain to meet Victoria at the warehouse. According to Leo, we were going to be sold tonight. The “ghost” woman was tossed into the pen with us. It was almost funny. In my twenty-odd years of life, I had never been in a small room with four women. The only girlfriend I ever had left me because I was broke. Now, I was surrounded by four beautiful women, and we were all about to die. About ten minutes later, the new woman groaned and woke up. I crawled over to her. “Are you the one who scared the shit out of me last night?” She rolled her eyes and mouthed a single word: *Idiot.* I bristled, instantly losing interest in talking to her. But after a moment, she leaned in and whispered, “My name is Audrey. I’m an undercover cop.” A cop? A female cop? “Then why the hell did you try to scare me last night?” I whispered back. Audrey sighed. “When they were unloading, I slipped into the back of your van while Marcus was distracted. I thought you were one of them. When I realized you thought I was a ghost, I tried to play along to keep you quiet. How was I supposed to know you’d faint and the engine would die?” That explained everything. After I fainted, she had to run on foot. But the mountain was pitch black and surrounded by dense jungle. Afraid of getting lost, she had to stick to the road, which made her an easy target for Leo’s patrol. “If we can hold out until this afternoon, backup will be here,” Audrey whispered. “But I need all of you to cooperate with me.” Hearing that we had a chance to live, my eyes lit up. “What do we do?” Lily asked. Audrey looked at her. “We play dead. Here’s what we’re going to do…” … A few minutes later, Lily and I started screaming at each other. She called me a piece of trash, getting angrier by the second, until she flew at me like a feral beast, sinking her teeth into my shoulder. “Whoa, easy! Are you for real?” I hissed. Her teeth dug deep into my collarbone, making me wince in pain. I shoved her off, raising my fist. But looking at her slightly swollen belly, I hesitated. “Do it!” Lily hissed under her breath. “It’s a cartel bastard’s kid anyway, I don’t care! Hit me!” I gritted my teeth and threw a punch. But at the last second, I couldn’t bring myself to hit her stomach. My fist landed on her collarbone instead. “You coward!” Lily yelled, throwing herself on top of me and punching me square in the eye. My vision went black for a second, and a dull throb bloomed across my right eye. The commotion brought one of the guards running over. “Hey! What the hell is going on in there?” Lily sat on chest, pointing at me. “This animal tried to touch me!” The guard sneered. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re acting. I don’t see any blood.” “Stop wasting your breath. You’re all getting shipped out in an hour anyway.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Audrey had warned us that once they moved us, we’d be as good as dead. Lily gritted her teeth, grabbed my arm, and bit down with everything she had.

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When my boyfriend got into a horrific car accident, I abandoned him and ran away. Years later, he spent a fortune and went through hellish schemes just to force me to marry him. To our friends, we were a match made in heaven. He always told me I was the love of his life, his eternal light. But later, while I was asleep in our bed, he would bring another woman into our house and make love to her in the next room. I became the biggest laughingstock in our social circle. Yet, I stayed by his side, acting as if nothing had happened. My sheer indifference eventually drove him insane. “Did you ever love me, Jasmine? Even for a second?” What he didn’t know was that I was dying. Under his endless emotional torture, my life had officially entered its final countdown. “A blooming jasmine, pure and untainted.” That was how Ethan used to describe me. But now, he used those exact words for someone else. Chloe Miller. She was the new intern at his company. She was pretty, innocent-looking, and most importantly, she looked exactly like me. At the office, they were boss and employee. Outside the office, they were tangled up in bed. They had been together for a year. But Ethan had been my husband for two. My friends kept warning me about Chloe. They told me to watch my back before this little homewrecker kicked me out of my own marriage. The first time I saw Chloe was in my own bedroom. That afternoon, I had just been diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension at the hospital. The doctor told me I only had two years left to live. I went to bed early that night, only to wake up to my husband bringing her into our suite. The sound of their heavy breathing and the rhythm of their bodies made me feel physically sick. When Ethan went to the bathroom to wash up, Chloe, convinced I was awake, leaned down to my ear with a smug, triumphant smile. “So, you’re Ethan’s wife? You’re literally just skin and bones. Are you dying or something? Touching you must feel like touching a skeleton.” “Everyone says I look like you. But honestly? I think you’re inferior to me in every single way. You’re not as pretty, and you’re definitely not as young.” She was right. I was incredibly thin. I used to be a healthy 110 pounds at 5’6″. Now, I was barely 88 pounds. My ribs stuck out prominently, looking almost skeletal. The cold moonlight fell over my body. I felt nothing but a hollow, tragic emptiness. I remembered going to Ethan’s office a few days ago. Chloe had stood in front of me with that same victorious posture. One of her coworkers had tried to warn her out of kindness. “Chloe, you should keep a low profile. I’ve seen pictures of Jasmine from a few years ago. She was gorgeous. Honestly, way prettier than you.” “Yeah, you and Ethan aren’t even official yet. Don’t push your luck. Don’t let your pride ruin things.” “I heard she was Ethan’s first love. He used to worship the ground she walked on. Be careful, or you’ll end up getting shipped off to some remote branch overseas.”

Chloe wasn’t intimidated by those warnings at all. Instead, a flash of jealousy burned in her eyes. Clicking her high heels, she walked right up to me, forcing a fake smile onto her face. “Oh, Jasmine. Why are you waiting out here? Ethan’s been in his office for so long and hasn’t called you in. Does he not love you anymore? Whenever I want to see him, he practically flies to me. I thought he was like that with every woman, but I guess you’re the exception. No wonder he told me I’m his favorite.” I stared at her face. Her fair skin, her long black hair, her expressions, and her body shape—she really did look like a younger version of me. Ethan had brought many women home before, but Chloe was the most frequent. He clearly favored her. Maybe his hatred for me made him use the most brutal methods to punish me. But his methods were truly sadistic. I heard he didn’t just sleep with Chloe; they were practically in a passionate relationship. They went out for romantic dinners, went shopping, and traveled together. He could have just paid for a hooker, but instead, Ethan chose to give Chloe his “love.” Sometimes, I honestly couldn’t tell if he actually liked her, or if he just liked sleeping with her to spite me. I looked up, meeting her gaze, and let a small smile slip onto my lips. “If he loves you so much, why hasn’t he divorced me to marry you? If you’re really that capable, go convince him to leave me. Let’s see if he’ll actually marry a side chick who can’t even be shown in public.” As I said this, I gripped my teacup so hard my knuckles turned white. Chloe glared at me, looking exactly like a humiliated clown. “So what if I’m the side chick? He sleeps with me every single night, and you can only watch and keep your mouth shut! If you weren’t a few years younger than me, the title of Mrs. Vance would already be mine!” Her coworkers quickly dragged her away, throwing worried glances at me, terrified that I would blow up. But I wouldn’t. To me, Ethan was already a ghost in my life. He couldn’t trigger any of my emotions anymore. I wouldn’t waste my energy getting angry over his disgusting behavior. I wouldn’t even get jealous. Because he was a complete piece of trash.

As the coworkers were dragging Chloe away, she tripped over her own heels. She fell, apparently spraining her ankle, and immediately burst into tears. Hearing the commotion, Ethan aborted his meeting instantly. He ran out of the conference room, leaving a room full of executives behind, and rushed straight to Chloe’s side. Everyone in the office crowded around to watch the drama unfold. Ethan knelt beside her, his face dark with fury. He roared at the crowd: “Who did this to her?!” Classic protective billionaire behavior. The surrounding employees immediately lowered their heads, their faces turning pale. I stepped forward and stood right in front of him. “I did. She has a big mouth, so I taught her a lesson.” Chloe cried even harder, her innocent eyes wide with tears as she looked at Ethan. “Did I say anything wrong? Is it a crime to love a married man? Why does she get to call me a homewrecker? Everyone knows you love me, Ethan! And I love you too! As long as we love each other, nobody can tear us apart. Not even her!” What a bold statement. Love knows no order, sure, but this was the first time I had seen someone paint homewrecking as something so noble. Before I could even speak, Ethan let out a soft laugh. He gently stroked her hair and wiped her tears with a tissue. “You’re so cute, baby.” The contrast between being loved and being ignored was glaringly obvious at this moment. But I didn’t want to waste any more words on him. “It’s our second anniversary today. I want you to give me the downtown penthouse.” The penthouse was where I currently lived, the place they frequently used to disrespect me. I knew if I asked for cash, he would just call me materialistic. So I wanted the property. I could sell it and use the money for my medical treatments. In Ethan’s eyes, I was already a materialistic gold-digger who only cared about money. He had accepted that when we got married, claiming that as long as I stayed with him, he would give me whatever I wanted. So, I wasn’t going to be polite. But this time, he hesitated. He looked at me with a smirk, pinching my chin tightly. “Still as materialistic as ever, Jasmine. I can give you the penthouse. But first, apologize to my baby.” He glanced at Chloe, his twenty-two-year-old “baby.” How the tables had turned. He used to call me that, too. He loved using money to crush my dignity. He loved showing off how much he adored his new toy. I did my best to control my expression, ignoring the physical pain in my chest, and smiled back at him. “An apology? That will cost you extra.” He looked at me with pure disgust, releasing my chin and pushing me back slightly. “Your appetite is getting bigger and bigger.” “If we can’t reach a deal, then forget it.” I didn’t want anything that had to be begged for. Whether it was love, or money. I was actually quite curious. If Ethan found out one day that this was my life-saving money, would he regret his decision today? He of all people knew how terrified I was of pain, and how much I hated bitter medicine.

They say you have to go through the worst pain to appreciate life. I had tasted enough bitterness, yet here I was, left with nothing but a broken, failing body. When I got home, I didn’t even want to turn on the lights. A person like me belonged in the dark. I sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the city lights outside. Once upon a time, I had a light of my own. Suddenly, a warm, metallic taste rushed up my throat. Blood erupted from my mouth and nose, instantly staining my clothes and splattering onto the floor. If I couldn’t see it, it didn’t happen. If there was no visible wound, it wouldn’t hurt. Staring up at the white ceiling, the blank space slowly transformed into a projector screen of my memories. It was the peak of my relationship with Ethan. That year, I was twenty, and he was twenty-two. He was incredibly wealthy, yet he fell head over heels for a completely ordinary girl like me. On Christmas Eve, heavy snow was falling. We walked down the street like any other deeply in love couple, letting the snow cover our heads. We joked that we were growing old together. I had secretly wished back then that the person I grew old with would be him, must be him, could only be him. He had suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warm coat. “Jasmine, it’s almost Christmas. What do you want?” “I want a table full of delicious food. Made by you.” I didn’t actually expect him to cook. It was just my deep-seated insecurity acting up. I always felt so ordinary, so unworthy of him. I constantly looked for proof that he didn’t love me just so I could prepare myself for the inevitable heartbreak. He didn’t say anything at the time. I knew cooking was hard for him. He was used to a pampered lifestyle. With a house full of maids and private chefs, he didn’t even know where the grocery store was. Sure enough, on Christmas Day, he vanished. I couldn’t reach him anywhere. Just as I was moping in my dorm room, my roommate yelled that Ethan was waiting downstairs. Though I was a bit annoyed, I went down. A stretched Lincoln limousine was waiting at the curb. “Miss Jasmine, Mr. Vance requested that I escort you to a special location.” Confused, I got in. When I arrived at the destination, I was shocked to see him standing at the entrance. He looked like a prince waiting for his princess. “Merry Christmas, Miss Jasmine. Please, follow me.” He led me to a beautifully set table. A feast of nine dishes and one soup caught my eye. As he proudly introduced each dish, I noticed his hands were covered in tiny, painful-looking blisters. My heart ached with guilt. I had no idea he would take my random, selfish request so seriously. I felt so incredibly foolish. Even though my heart was breaking for him, I scolded him to hide my tears. “Ethan! Why did you do this to yourself without my permission? Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not even yourself!” I knew how deep and fierce his love was. But I felt I didn’t deserve it. He had just laughed, kissing my forehead gently. “Baby, this is how I show my love. How could it be hurtful?” He told me he had spent days watching cooking tutorials and practicing every night. I always knew he was brilliant, but I didn’t expect him to learn so fast. To show my appreciation, I cleaned out every single plate. It had been so long since I had a home-cooked meal. I could still taste it to this day. Maybe the memory was too beautiful, because I found myself smiling in my sleep. Through the haze of my dream, I heard someone calling my name. “Jasmine.” It was Ethan’s voice. I smiled, whispering back, “Ethan… I miss you. I miss your cooking.”

At 4:00 AM, I woke up. I reached out to the other side of the bed. It was cold. When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw Ethan standing in the kitchen. The last time I saw him in this house, he and Chloe were making out in my walk-in closet. Ever since he started dating Chloe, he barely came back here. He lived with her. They ate together, slept together. Their romance was the envy of everyone. He took off his apron, looked at me, and frowned. His eyes held a flicker of genuine concern. “Why are your clothes so baggy? Have you lost weight?” His tone was so gentle. He looked so much like the man I used to love. He looked as if he still cared. Setting the apron down, he walked over and cupped my cheek. I had indeed lost weight. My face had lost all its roundness. I slapped his hand away with all the strength I could muster. “Don’t touch me, Ethan!” He lowered his gaze, a flash of disappointment crossing his eyes. When he stepped aside, I finally saw the table. It was covered in a fresh, delicious feast. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. I couldn’t believe that a single whisper in my sleep had actually made him cook for me again. What was he trying to do? I didn’t understand. And I didn’t want to. I was just dragging out my final days anyway. I didn’t need love, I didn’t need his food, and I certainly didn’t need Ethan Vance. With a violent sweep of my arm, I pushed all the dishes off the table. The clean dining room was instantly turned into a chaotic, messy disaster. Hearing the crash, Ethan stared at the mess in disbelief. Slowly, he approached me, pinning me against the wall. His face was contorted with rage, his eyes burning with fury. “Jasmine! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “I was just joking in my sleep, and you actually took it seriously? Don’t you find yourself pathetic? You cook just because I ask you to? You might not be tired of this game, but I’m sick of your dirty hands!” He stared at me as if I had been possessed. I spat out the cruelest words I could think of. His eyes grew colder by the second. Suddenly, he scooped me up and threw me onto the sofa. A dark desire flared in his eyes, his breathing turning ragged. I struggled wildly, but I couldn’t break free from his grip. “Ethan, you bastard! Let me go!” He bit my lip hard, making me gasp in pain. “Is it really that hard to say you love me?! All these years, I’ve just been waiting for you to apologize to me! Why won’t you just give in? You said you wanted my cooking tonight, and I made it without a second thought. Why do you have to humiliate me?!” “Do you enjoy playing with my feelings?!” His sharp accusations made it impossible for me to look him in the eye, fearing he would see the tears pooling in them. We stared at each other in a suffocating silence until he began to unbutton my shirt. He unbuttoned, and I quickly buttoned it back up. He refused to back down, and neither did I. His movements were fluid, far too familiar with my body. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Chloe on Snapchat. Without hesitation, he answered it and put it on speaker. Chloe was crying hysterically. “Ethan… why did you leave me? Is Jasmine really worth it? You said I was your favorite! I drank way too much at the bar… my head is spinning and I feel like throwing up. Can you please come pick me up? There are so many guys staring at me, I’m so scared… please come get me…” Ethan didn’t answer her. Instead, he stared at me, covering the microphone with his hand. “Jasmine, kiss me.” Seeing that I remained silent, he pleaded, “Say you love me. Say you’re sorry. If you say it, I’ll never leave you again.” Though he kept his voice low, I could hear it trembling. He was begging me. I knew. But this was exactly how I used to be. I used to beg him for love just as desperately. “Ethan, please don’t leave me, okay?” “Ethan, can we go back to how we were?” “Ethan, let’s stop fighting, please…” Back then, he had only left me a cold text message: “Jasmine, stop being so pathetic.” So, loving someone was considered pathetic. Loving someone meant dragging your dignity through the dirt. I didn’t understand his love, and I certainly didn’t want it anymore. The scars of his cruel words were permanently engraved on my heart. They would never heal. I didn’t want to forgive him. I wanted him to feel exactly what I felt. Leaning close to his ear, I whispered with a cold smile: “Ethan, stop being so pathetic.” He froze, then let out a bitter laugh. He uncovered the phone. “Baby, hang tight. I’m coming to get you.” In the end, he didn’t even look back at me as he slammed the door shut.

I couldn’t sleep that night because of the excruciating pain, coughing up blood periodically. The penthouse was terrifyingly quiet. The next morning, the sun was bright, and I wanted to go out for a walk. But as soon as I stepped outside, I noticed people staring at their phones, whispering. Curious, I opened my phone and let out a self-deprecating laugh. It turned out my dear husband had gotten into a massive street fight last night to protect Chloe. As the son of New York’s biggest jewelry tycoon, his reputation was massive. Within hours, it had become the biggest entertainment scandal in the city. The moment I reached the gates of our gated community, a swarm of paparazzi and live-streamers rushed at me. “Mrs. Vance, have you seen the news? Did you know your husband is cheating on you?” “Mrs. Vance, are you going to divorce him?” “Mrs. Vance, the intern is younger and prettier than you. Are you jealous?” Every question felt like a poisoned needle piercing my skin. Still, I forced a tight smile and stopped walking. “You should be interviewing the man who cheated, and the woman who chose to be a homewrecker. Not me.” A female reporter who looked about Chloe’s age refused to let me go. “Is that so? I heard that years ago, when Ethan got into that horrible car accident, you abandoned him for money. You only crawled back crying for a second chance after you saw he recovered perfectly. What kind of dirty tricks did you use to get him back?” “Honestly, Ethan and Chloe look like a perfect match. Are you refusing to divorce him just because you couldn’t agree on the alimony? You call her a homewrecker, but everyone knows that in a relationship, the one who isn’t loved is the real intruder.” “Don’t you think they’re true love, and you’re the actual homewrecker here?” She spoke with perfect articulation. She was clearly sent by someone. I stared at her, noticing the custom college tote bag on her shoulder. “You’re defending Chloe so passionately. Are you classmates? You look like an intern reporter, but your professional skills are honestly embarrassing. Making up stories without doing proper research… aren’t you worried about losing your job?” “Ethan went through hell and back just to marry me. I guess you’ve never been loved like that, which is why you’re projecting your jealousy onto me. Or did Chloe send you here today specifically to disgust me?” Her eyes flickered with panic. She subconsciously tried to hide her bag, but she kept arguing. “So what if I know Chloe? I’m just stating facts! You claim Ethan forced you to marry him, so if you hate it so much, why don’t you divorce him and let them be together? Or are you just holding out for a massive payout? Since we’re all here, if you’re too embarrassed to say the number, we can pass the message to him for you!” She smiled triumphantly, and the other reporters chimed in. The retort died in my throat, replaced by a sudden surge of warm, metallic fluid. I tried to cover my mouth, but there was too much of it. The white snow on the pavement was instantly stained a violent red. The reporters gasped in shock. One of them quickly recovered and sneered: “Wow, that fake blood looks incredibly realistic. Where’d you buy it? My friend works in movie props, I should ask for the brand.” “Just a second ago she was acting like she was forced to marry him, and now she’s coughing up fake blood. Pathetic actress.” I let out a weak, bitter laugh. “I wish this blood were fake, too. Sorry to disappoint you all… but I’m actually dying.” Their expressions froze. They looked at each other in silence, the mock smiles instantly vanishing from their faces. Until the intern reporter spoke up again: “Stop acting so fake! You can’t win the argument so you’re playing the cancer card? How shameless!” “No wonder we can’t beat you older women. Your manipulation tactics are truly on another level!” Her behavior perfectly proved the saying: birds of a feather flock together. The truly shameless ones were them—highly educated but completely devoid of basic humanity.

The sky turned dark with heavy clouds. Within an hour, my interview was trending everywhere on Instagram. Knowing my days were numbered, I didn’t care about the internet gossip. I just wanted to spend my remaining days in peace. But Ethan went into complete damage control mode. He edited his Instagram statement three times. “Jasmine and I will not be divorcing. I apologize for taking up public resources. Please stop harassing my wife and leave her alone.” Strangely, Chloe’s reporter friend was fired immediately and blacklisted from the entire media industry. Even though he cleared the air, some toxic netizens still kept attacking me. “That woman is so dramatic. She married him but acts like she’s a victim. I bet she screams his name in bed.” “Ugh, look at her skeletal body. Who would even want that? If I knew Ethan was that easy to get, I would’ve shot my shot.” “Ethan is defending her so hard, it proves he’s obsessed with her. I admit, I’m jealous.” “She’s clearly faking innocence. She abandoned him when he was crippled in a car crash, then crawled back when he got better. She’s got some serious tricks up her sleeve.” Suddenly, one comment caught my eye:

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I couldn’t sleep, so I opened my nightstand drawer, looking for a couple of melatonin gummies. The sleeping aids weren’t there. Instead, tucked in the corner, was a box of condoms. And out of the twelve-pack, only one was left. “Hey, babe, you’re back early. Why didn’t you tell me?” My husband lay on the bed, forcing a smile. I easily caught the flash of panic in his eyes. I stared at his lower body—the legs that couldn’t move—and fell into a deep silence. Ethan had been paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident two years ago. He was completely impotent. So… who used the rest of the box? 【1】 I’m a young female long-haul truck driver. Ever since we got married, I’ve spent every single day on the road, grinding to support our household. It was payday again, and the drivers were gathering for a celebratory dinner. In the world of long-haul trucking, female drivers are rare. Naturally, there are always a few sleazy bastards trying to use alcohol as an excuse to feel me up. Seeing our logistics manager, Mr. Davis, sliding another glass of whiskey toward me with a suggestive squint, Valerie, an older female driver, kindly stepped in to block him. “Let me drink that for Chloe, Mr. Davis. She’s got a long-haul run tonight.” A woman being the sole breadwinner is still a rare sight in traditional families. Valerie had asked me more than once why a young, pretty girl like me was doing such backbreaking work. With a bitter smile, I pulled out my phone and looked at the lock screen—a photo of Ethan and me. I knew exactly how brutal this job was. The flipped sleep schedules, the terrible diet, the countless nights sleeping in a freezing truck cab. The only thing keeping me going was my husband, the man who loved and supported me unconditionally. Ethan’s parents had passed away, and now he was paralyzed in bed. If I didn’t work myself to the bone, who would pay his astronomical medical bills? “Chloe, you should make time to go home more often,” Valerie said after downing the shot, her tone heavy with warning as she patted my shoulder. “Men have wild minds these days. When their wives are away, there’s no telling what kind of fun they’re having!” I just smiled and shook my head, silently rejecting Valerie’s skepticism. If it were any other man, I’d have my doubts too. But Ethan? It was impossible for him to cheat on me. He was paralyzed. He couldn’t even stand up. How could he possibly be fooling around? Valerie snorted, calling me young and naive. After her ex-husband cheated, they divorced, leaving her to raise three kids alone. That was why she drove semis, and why she had zero faith in men or romance. “He’s paralyzed, Chloe, not dead down there. You’re really that comfortable?” Speak of the devil, my phone buzzed with a FaceTime call. It was Ethan. The other female drivers teased me, laughing about how we were still in the honeymoon phase. Ethan did call me constantly to report on his day-to-day life. The other women always envied me for having such a clingy, loving husband. “Hey, why the sudden video call?” “I missed you, babe. Just wanted to see your beautiful face. Show me my wife!” Ethan’s voice sounded warm, but he was panting heavily, gasping for air as if he were in the middle of a workout. When the video connected, I saw Ethan drenched in sweat, his face flushed red. “It’s so hot today. Why didn’t you have Lily turn on the AC?” “Lily is helping me do my physical therapy,” Ethan panted, pointing the camera down slightly. “Air-cycling. Want to see?” Oh. The doctor had mentioned before that moving his legs passively was good for his circulation. Watching Ethan’s body shaking from the exertion on screen, my heart ached for him. He was working so hard to stand up again… If he hadn’t jumped to protect me, he wouldn’t be in that wheelchair. “No, it’s okay. Get some rest after your workout. I have to get back to loading the truck.” “Alright, baby. Love you. Kisses!” Seeing his face press up against the camera to blow me a kiss, I laughed. The exhaustion of driving for twenty-four hours straight melted away. 【2】 Thinking about his physical therapy brought back a wave of guilt. I couldn’t help but recall the horrible accident during our college years. We were crossing the street hand-in-hand when a speeding car suddenly hurtled toward us. Without a second thought, Ethan shoved me out of the way. He couldn’t dodge in time and was thrown violently onto the pavement. After losing the use of his legs, Ethan had cried in his hospital bed, refusing to see me. “Chloe, you’re so young and beautiful. I’m a broken man now. I can’t ruin the rest of your life.” He had always been so selfless. I was the one who should have been in that bed. He was enduring agonizing pain, yet his only thought was for my future… I had broken down, sobbing as I wrapped my arms around him. My lover had lost his legs to save my life. How could I ever be cruel enough to abandon him? From that day on, I became Ethan’s shadow, taking care of his every need. Once he was discharged, I ignored my parents’ fierce objections, pushed his wheelchair into city hall, and signed our marriage certificate. To care for him, I took a two-year leave of absence from college. Without my parents’ financial support, the weight of rent, utilities, and Ethan’s medical bills crashed down on me. I was a student who hadn’t even graduated yet. With no connections and no experience, I searched desperately until I found this high-paying long-haul trucking job. Driving across the country meant my life was confined to a truck cab. Since I could no longer take care of Ethan full-time, I hired a middle-aged caretaker who seemed incredibly reliable. Her name was Lily. She was in her late thirties, married with two kids, and seemed like an honest, hardworking woman. With everything arranged at home, I threw myself into my work. Driving day and night under extreme pressure, I could make up to eight thousand dollars a month on good runs, though bad months only brought in about two thousand. I carried the living expenses of two people plus Lily’s salary on my back. I couldn’t afford to slack off for even a second. When things got slow, Valerie and the other drivers would invite me out for dinners, but I always declined. Ethan’s quality of life was my top priority. He had already lost his legs. Being trapped at home all day was lonely enough; I couldn’t let him suffer financially too. As for me, I was young. I could survive on anything. For two years, I lived on cheap white bread and instant ramen. When I landed a massive delivery order, I’d treat myself to a jar of cheap hot sauce, scraping the corners of the glass clean, and then recycling the jar for a few cents to buy more bread. After months of this diet, my stomach was ruined. I became severely malnourished and prone to dizzy spells. I had passed out in the driver’s dorms several times, my mind playing weird, feverish tricks on me. Like today, while driving past a local shopping mall, my stomach cramped so badly that I pulled over to buy some ginger tea from the supermarket. Near the checkout aisle, I saw a man who looked exactly like Ethan, laughing and flirting with his arm wrapped around a middle-aged woman. I figured Valerie’s warnings were getting to me. My brain was literally hallucinating Ethan cheating on me, and the hallucination was terrifyingly vivid… Even though I knew it was fake, watching those perfectly functional legs walk away made tears stream down my face. If only it were real. More than anyone, I wanted him to stand up again. 【3】 Watching the couple disappear around the corner, a sharp pain shot through my head. I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened them, the pain was gone, and so were the two people. Day and night of nonstop driving had pushed my body to its absolute limit. My mental state was clearly deteriorating. If I kept driving like this, I was going to crash and kill someone. I decided to take a few days off, get a medical checkup, and rest at home. The moment I stepped through the front door of our apartment, a strong, sweet scent of cheap perfume hit my nose. Lily, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, was dressed in an unusually vibrant outfit, her face glowing. Seeing me home, her eyes widened in shock before she quickly recovered her warm smile. Since I was rarely home due to my trucking schedule, her surprise made sense. “Chloe! You’re back! You should’ve texted me. I would’ve cooked a nice lunch to welcome you home.” She reached out to help me with my bag. That was when I noticed the dark red marks scattered across her neck. Sensing my gaze, she blushed and quickly covered her neck with her hand. “Oh… my husband’s been acting like a teenager lately. So embarrassing.” “That’s sweet…” I smiled, exchanged a few polite words with Lily, and walked into the bedroom to see Ethan, who was fast asleep. Sometimes, I really envied the intimacy of normal couples. If Ethan’s legs were fine, we would be just as happy. Ethan woke up looking as drained as usual, with deep dark circles under his eyes. He probably hadn’t slept well. Ever since the accident, he had suffered from night terrors, often calling me in the middle of the night, gasping and crying about the crash. On the other end of the line, sitting in my truck cab eating cold bread, I would sob along with him, swearing to work harder to give him a better life. “Babe, I want to get the latest model of this electric wheelchair. It’s about two thousand dollars,” Ethan murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, his voice tender and sweet. “This old one is so hard to maneuver. Yesterday, Lily was pushing me, and we tumbled right down the porch steps. Look at these bruises.” He unbuttoned his shirt. Sure enough, his chest was covered in red, angry marks. “Babe, they’re on my back too…” Seeing my hesitation, he turned over with a pout to show me. Two thousand dollars… It sounded so simple to him, but it meant weeks of sleepless nights on the highway… “I’ll make it happen,” I promised, lying down next to him as a dull ache throbbed in my temples. I pulled open the nightstand drawer, searching for some melatonin. Long-haul driving had ruined my circadian rhythm. I was always drowsy during the day and wide awake at night. Melatonin and caffeine pills were my daily survival kit. “Huh? Where is it…” I rumbled through the drawer. I didn’t find the melatonin, but my hand brushed against a small box. It was a condom box. And only one was left. Ethan’s eyes flared with panic, but he forced a smile and pulled me closer. “Babe, what are you looking for? Oh, look at that, a stray condom. Why is that in here?” The fog in my brain instantly cleared. I stared at his completely limp lower half, my mind freezing over. I bought this box on Amazon less than twenty days ago to get free shipping. My husband had been paralyzed for two years. He was completely impotent. So, who used the other eleven condoms?

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During a late-night shift at the agency, while I was polishing up video scripts for the next day, I heard some strange noises coming from the restroom next door. A moment later, Chloe walked out, her face flushed red. She asked if I’d heard anything I shouldn’t have. I quickly shook my head, denying it. Then, she pulled me into her private streaming studio and asked for a “favor.” I fell hard. Later, the CEO cornered me and demanded that Chloe and I get legally hitched at the courthouse. He even threatened me with security footage from her streaming room! It wasn’t until his wife stepped in that I realized I had been set up in a honey trap… People always say showbiz is a toxic mess. Honestly, influencer agencies aren’t any better. I used to write scripts for indie short dramas. But after pissing off the wrong person, I got blacklisted in that industry. So, I ended up at an influencer marketing agency, writing content. With my background in scriptwriting, I cruised through the job. I knew exactly how to highlight each female streamer’s unique charm, using short dramatic scripts to amplify their appeal and help them stand out in a sea of pretty faces. Chloe was my first big success story. Before me, her performance was mediocre at best, nearly at the bottom of the ladder. Our boss, Marcus, handed her over to me just to see if I could pull off a miracle. Within a single week, I got Chloe trending locally on TikTok, turning her into a rising star. Not only did she pull in over fifteen thousand dollars that month, but it also made me a legend in the agency. I had just stepped out of the restroom when I heard a bizarre sound coming from the women’s room next door. “I can’t… help me!” It was Chloe’s voice, quiet but clear enough for me to hear. What was she doing in there alone an hour after closing time? “Hey? Everything okay in there? Need help?” I called out. The bathroom went dead silent. Just as I was about to lose patience and go in to check, Chloe stepped out in her high heels and bumped right into me. Feeling her soft curves pressed against my chest, my heart skipped a beat. “Uh, I thought something happened to you. I was just checking,” I stammered, awkwardly stepping back. Chloe adjusted the strap of her dress, her flushed face cooling down. A few seconds later, she locked eyes with me. “Did you hear anything just now?” I scratched my head, playing dumb. “Hear what?” She giggled, covering her mouth. “I always thought you were the innocent type, Leo. Guess I was wrong.” I was utterly confused. “Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go to my streaming room. I want to show you something.” “It’s late, and we’re the only ones left. Is that really a good idea?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m a girl and I’m not scared. Why are you acting like a wimp?” That did it. My pride was stung. “Fine. Let’s go.” Who was afraid of whom? She strutted ahead of me, her hips swaying. I couldn’t help but look. She had a perfect figure, flawless pale skin, and killer legs. “Those short videos you wrote for me went viral. My follower count is still shooting up!” she said without looking back. I smiled. “It’s because you’ve got the assets, Chloe. As long as you stay in shape and stick to the content plan I made, you’ll keep growing.” Her biggest selling point was her long legs. She was tall, so I designed her content around that to get her quick traction. While chatting, we reached her private streaming room. Chloe turned the doorknob, looking back with a playful smile. “After you, Shakespeare.” My name is Leo Miller. “Wordsmith” or “Shakespeare” was just a nickname the team gave me because of my writing. As a famous actor once said, once you make it, everyone around you suddenly becomes nice. That quote perfectly sums up human nature. I still remember when I first started at this agency; Chloe wouldn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. I walked in, wondering what she was up to. Ever since she got popular, her room had been heavily upgraded. It used to be just a PC and a camera. Now? Marcus had personally moved a water dispenser and a fridge stocked with summer snacks and fruits in here. She was getting the queen treatment. “Marcus really spoils you. This place looks like a studio apartment now. He even got you a bed,” I joked, pointing to the plush daybed in the corner. Ignoring my comment, Chloe slid open her wardrobe, pulling out a tight, high-slit vintage silk dress from a row of sexy outfits. She started changing right in front of me, saying, “It’s all about the money, Leo. Marcus only cares about who brings in cash. If you make him rich, you’re his favorite.” “You don’t need to look so tense. It’s not like you’ve never seen a girl change,” she added, noticing my awkwardness. I was blushing, feeling incredibly awkward but also secretly thrilled. “I… I should step out,” I mumbled. During our last company dinner at a karaoke bar, I had noticed she and Marcus were extremely close. Chloe had had a few drinks and went to the restroom. Marcus followed her out shortly after. When they didn’t return for a while, I went to use the restroom myself. Passing a private VIP lounge, I heard some very suggestive sounds. I recognized the voices instantly. So, I knew she was the boss’s girl. Messing with the boss’s girl was a line I wouldn’t cross. It was a matter of principle. But Chloe blocked my path, propping her long leg against the doorframe. She locked the door behind us, her eyes overflowing with desire. “Giggle… What are you afraid of, Wordsmith? I told you, I want to show you something.” “Fine…” She unlocked her iPhone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to me. “Take a close look, handsome.” Her voice trembled slightly. When I looked up, her eyes were burning with raw emotion. Like I said, influencer agencies can get pretty wild. On her screen was a private, highly suggestive dance video—the kind she sent to her wealthy VIP donors on Snapchat. I skipped ahead, and the content became absolutely mind-blowing. My brain short-circuited. Streamers never show these videos to coworkers. Her behavior was baffling me. “Leo…” She placed her hand on my shoulder, leaning in to kiss me. “……” After that night, things escalated quickly. For a whole week, Chloe invited me to her room every night. But then, Marcus’s wife unexpectedly dropped by the office to check on things. After that, Chloe suddenly became cold and distant. I was confused. She was incredibly tempting, and part of me wanted to keep this secret affair going. But she acted like nothing had happened and kept her distance. After work, Chloe loved playing pool. I tracked her down at a local pool hall she had posted about on Instagram. “Chloe…” The moment I called her name, I regretted it. Marcus was there too. Marcus looked surprised. “Leo? What a coincidence! Want to play a round?” He acted like he knew absolutely nothing, inviting me to join. “Uh, actually, I came to find Chloe… wanted to talk about a script.” Working was just a pathetic excuse. I hated myself for being so clingy when she had already made her stance clear. “You guys go ahead, I’ll take off.” Seeing her with Marcus made everything click. If she was just playing with me, why should I take it seriously? But I still felt hurt. Even though I knew she had a thing with the boss, I felt like since we slept together, I should take responsibility. God, I’m such a pathetic loser, I cursed myself silently. From that day on, I stopped reaching out to her outside of work. Since my videos were doing great, Marcus put me in charge of four other female streamers. Writing scripts and custom-tailoring content for all of them doubled my workload, leaving me no time for romance. Naturally, my pay got a nice bump too. About two weeks later, I walked into work as usual. While discussing a script with Chloe, I noticed a bruise on her face. There was a band-aid near her temple, and a faint handprint on her cheek. “Are you… okay?” I couldn’t help but ask, seeing how distracted she was. She glanced at me coldly. “I’m fine. Oh, Marcus is in. He wants to see you.” Sure enough, Marcus waved me into his office the moment I walked past. “Leo, you’ve been with us for two months now, right? How are you liking it?” he asked, handing me a glass of water. I took it with both hands, giving him a polite smile. “It’s great, Marcus. The team is awesome, and you’ve been really supportive. I feel right at home.” Standard corporate BS. Everyone does it. “Haha!” Marcus pointed at me, his gold Rolex flashing. “Cut the crap, kid.” I wondered what game he was playing. He checked the time and got straight to the point. “I’ve heard rumors about you and Chloe.” “But it looks like you two had a fight recently. I talked some sense into her last night. Take her out for dinner tonight, make it official, and tomorrow, go to the courthouse to get legally hitched.” Tomorrow… get married? My mind went blank. “Marcus, what do you mean? I don’t follow,” I asked cautiously, keeping my voice steady. Marcus and Chloe were sleeping together. I had chased her because I was stupid, but I had already decided to let it go. Now Marcus was pushing us together and demanding we marry tomorrow?! “Ahem,” Marcus cleared his throat. “I’m planning to promote you to my executive assistant. I know you know about my history with Chloe. But she told me last night that you’re the one she really loves. So, I’m stepping aside for you two.” Was there really a free lunch in this world? To be honest, thinking about Chloe’s killer legs, I was tempted. But in the end, I rejected the offer. “Marcus, I’ll pass. Whatever happened between us is in the past.” Was he testing me? If I agreed, wouldn’t I be stealing the boss’s woman? But the moment I said no, Marcus’s face darkened. He slid his phone over, playing a video. I tapped play, and my heart sank. It was a video of me and Chloe in her streaming room that night. It wasn’t hard to guess where the footage came from. “Since we’re laying our cards on the table, I’ll be blunt,” Marcus sneered. “Chloe is pregnant. You two are getting hitched tomorrow to play husband and wife. I’ll secretly wire five thousand dollars to your personal account every month just to play the role. But remember, you are never to touch her again. Do I make myself clear?” Oh, I understood. Loud and clear. I could easily guess his motive. His wife must have found out about them. So, he wanted me to be the scapegoat husband to shut his wife up. If I agreed, I’d have to watch my legal wife sleep with Marcus. Every time Marcus came over, I’d have to go for a stroll around the block. That feeling… “I need more money,” I gritted my teeth. “Even if it’s a fake marriage, it’s still on my record.” Marcus frowned. I continued, “We’ll have to throw a wedding, right? She’ll have to meet my parents. What about when the baby is born? Living expenses aren’t cheap. And when you eventually take the kid away, what about me? I won’t be able to marry anyone else because of bigamy laws, and—” “Stop, stop, stop!” Marcus’s face twitched. “Just get hitched first. Once I sort out my domestic issues, you can divorce her.” “Fine.” Having no choice but to agree to Marcus’s demands, I went home. That very night, an elegant, wealthy-looking woman knocked on my apartment door.

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To support my wife Vivian at the grand opening of her new organic grocery store, I drove hundreds of miles back home. But I got into a horrific car crash on the highway. Right in front of me, in the other overturned vehicle, were my wife, my son, and a complete stranger. I used every ounce of my strength to drag my wife and son out of the wreckage, but the moment they were free, they ignored me and rushed to save the other man. They even dragged my bleeding body back, leaving me right next to the car that was about to explode. Through the smoke and the roaring flames, I watched the three of them hug, looking like a perfect, loving family. It turned out I had been living a lie the entire time. But God gave me a second chance. I opened my eyes, back to the day before the accident. “Wake up, buddy!” The Uber driver woke me up from the back seat. We were almost home. “Thank God, nothing happened.” I patted my chest, whispering to myself in relief. “Hey, don’t say bad-luck things in my car,” the driver muttered, annoyed. I apologized, but my shirt was already soaked in cold sweat. The AC was running at the perfect temperature, but I had been terrified by that realistic nightmare. Still shaken, I pulled out my phone and called my wife, Vivian. “Are you asleep?” Her irritated voice came through the speaker. “Of course I am. Why are you calling so late? Aren’t you worried about waking up Leo?” Her tone stung, but as a workaholic who spent most of his time running the company, I always felt a lingering guilt toward my family. I softened my voice. “I’m almost home. Isn’t the grand opening of your new store tomorrow? I came back early to help out.” There was a long silence on the other end. Then, Vivian said impatiently, “I took Leo to my parents’ place. His school has a Family Field Day tomorrow, and I’m taking him. Just handle the store opening. You don’t need to come.” I wanted to tell her that I could rush through the store setup and maybe make it to the school event. But the line had already gone dead. In the past, because I was always busy with the business, I rarely made it to Leo’s school events. I had always tolerated Vivian’s coldness. But that vivid nightmare made me doubt everything. What was she actually doing right now? If I hadn’t heard wrong, right before she hung up, I heard a muffled man’s chuckle in the background. And Vivian had let out a soft, breathless gasp—a sound I knew all too well. The thought made my chest tighten with pain. Vivian was my first love. She was the only woman I had ever loved since I turned twenty-eight. Back then, our relationship wasn’t blessed by our families. Her parents looked down on me because I was nine years older than her, while my parents despised her family’s background. At the time, the Millers owned a small grocery store that was on the brink of bankruptcy. My parents suspected Vivian was only with me for my money, so they refused to help her family’s failing business. In the end, I went on a hunger strike to force my parents to step in. With my family’s financial backing, the Millers’ store was saved, and Vivian was incredibly grateful. She publicly proposed to me, promising she would be faithful to me forever. I was too busy with work and hadn’t planned on marrying so soon. But how could any man remain unmoved when a woman did so much for him? That day, I believed I had made the right bet. After we got married, Vivian struggled to get pregnant. We went to the hospital, but they couldn’t find any issues. Later, Vivian took me to see one of her doctor friends, Dr. Evans, who claimed my sperm count was extremely low and inactive. Vivian didn’t blame me. She told me that just having each other was enough. Then one day, she brought home a baby boy, Leo, claiming she had adopted him through a private agency. Our family of three was incredibly happy. Even though Leo wasn’t my biological son, I showered him with all the love a father could give. I thought we would be happy like this forever. But that nightmare woke me up. Was any of this real? Or had I just been blinded by my own desires?

The next morning, I rushed through the new store’s ribbon-cutting ceremony and drove straight to Leo’s elementary school. By the time I arrived, the Family Field Day had already begun. Cheering echoed across the field. They were doing the piggyback relay race. I saw Vivian carrying Leo, running remarkably fast. She was wearing a tight, elegant designer dress. Even in high heels, she was leading the pack. Leo looked at the other kids falling behind and laughed happily. “Faster, Mom! Let’s go to Dad!” I thought Leo had spotted me in the crowd. But to my horror, he was shouting toward another man standing at the finish line. Waiting at the end of the track was a man in a well-tailored suit. His shirt was fitted, showing off his athletic build. Vivian practically threw Leo into the man’s arms. The man caught him, but he didn’t run very fast. He looked a bit out of breath, actually. Honestly, he wasn’t even trying to run. He was just posing, trying to look cool for the other moms watching. Naturally, he ended up in last place. But Leo didn’t mind at all. He lovingly wiped the sweat from the man’s forehead. “It’s okay, Dad! You’re still the coolest dad ever!” Watching this, my heart felt like it was being hacked by a dull blade. My wife, who was usually cold and rarely smiled. My son, who was usually mischievous and stubborn. They were showering another man with pure joy and affection. They looked like a perfect, happy family. And I was left standing there, questioning my own existence. What was I to them? Did all my years of hard work and devotion mean nothing? I walked straight up to them and stopped. I didn’t say a word. The moment Vivian saw me, panic flashed in her eyes. The man quickly set Leo down. He stretched out his hand, offering me a polite, easy smile. “Arthur, I didn’t expect you to make it back.” “Vivian told me you were busy, so she asked me to stand in for the father-son race. I hope you don’t mind.” I stared at this shameless man. His name was Simon Cole. He was Vivian’s childhood friend and a client she had introduced to my company. To be precise, Simon’s company was just a middleman. He bought goods from my company and resold them to make a profit. I had only given him those lucrative contracts to make Vivian happy. I never expected that while he was eating from my plate, he was planning to steal my entire kitchen. He wanted my wife, my son, and my life. I stood frozen, refusing to take his hand. Vivian immediately lost her patience. “Arthur, where are your manners?” “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, so I asked Simon to help. Don’t be so petty.” I chuckled, but she was the one getting defensive. Just because I gave Simon the cold shoulder, she jumped to his defense. Between her husband and her childhood friend, she chose the latter without a second thought. “Arthur, Simon is really nice, and he’s just as cool as you!” Leo said, tugging my hand. But I wondered who he was really calling “Dad” in his head. My sweet little son had just called another man “Dad” so naturally. I patted Leo’s head and smiled. “Alright, whatever you say, buddy. Let’s go home later, and I’ll make your favorite ribs.” He jumped up and down, cheering. But as I pulled my hand back, a few strands of his hair remained in my palm. The intimate way the three of them had interacted forced me to face a dark suspicion.

The DNA results came back quickly. I had tested the maternity relationship between Vivian and Leo. Getting Vivian’s DNA wasn’t hard since we lived together. Although Leo was supposed to be an adopted child, Vivian had handled the entire process herself. She was the one who brought him home, and she had always been incredibly close to him. At first, I thought she just had a big heart. But now, it seemed Leo’s identity was far more complicated. My hands shook as I opened the lab report. The results were exactly what I feared. Vivian was Leo’s biological mother. Now, my only question was: who was the father? Simon. That was the first name that popped into my head. It made perfect sense. He had appeared in our lives right after Vivian brought Leo home. He constantly bought Leo expensive gifts and frequented our family gatherings. I had always assumed he just loved kids and was grateful for the business I gave him. But looking back, the way he looked at Leo was never just “friendly.” It was the look of a biological father. To confirm my theory, I invited Simon over for dinner. Vivian and Leo were thrilled. During the dinner, I easily obtained Simon’s DNA. A few days later, the second DNA report arrived. When I saw the paper, I let out a cold laugh. Sure enough, Simon was Leo’s biological father. All this time, I thought Simon was the third wheel in our family. Now I realized that out of the four of us, I was the only outsider. I had given Vivian everything, saving her family’s grocery business. I had raised Leo as my own, shielding him from every hardship, loving him unconditionally. And yet, after all these years of sacrifice, I was just a fool raising another man’s child. I could only imagine how they laughed at me behind my back. As Leo grew older, he rarely showed affection toward me. I thought he was just going through a phase, but now I realized he probably knew the truth all along. He happily enjoyed the life my wealth provided while calling another man his real father. To Leo, I was probably the villain who broke up his real parents. I hired a private investigator to dig into Vivian and Simon’s past. The truth was far worse than just “childhood friends.” They had dated seriously and were even planning to get married. But Simon suddenly broke it off, claiming his parents didn’t approve of her. Vivian refused to let go at first, but then her family’s store faced bankruptcy. Feeling she was no longer good enough for Simon, she walked away. Then, she swallowed her pride and came to me. With my help, her family rose from the ashes. Yet, in her eyes, marrying me was probably the biggest sacrifice of her life. But if it weren’t for me, how could she have ever crawled out of that financial grave? I was the one who stood by her during her darkest times, yet I was the one she betrayed.

When Vivian first applied for a job at my company, she was at her absolute lowest. It was freezing outside, and she showed up for the interview in a painfully thin coat. She was shivering so hard her nose was red. She actually didn’t perform well in the interview, but I hired her anyway. Maybe it was because she opened up about her family’s financial ruin, and how she was working to support her parents. It made me believe she was a kind, filial woman. Once she started, I advanced her a month’s salary so she could buy a proper winter coat. She didn’t just buy a coat, though. She also bought a small succulent for my desk. I kept that plant on my desk, watering it and watching it grow. And Vivian became warmer and more attentive toward me every day. Even though we had a nine-year age gap, and even though my friends warned me, I was blinded by love. When you’re in love, every obstacle just feels like a romantic challenge. “Us against the world” sounded incredibly romantic. In truth, my parents strongly opposed the match. I told Vivian about their disapproval. One rainy night, Vivian stood outside my apartment building without an umbrella, holding a handmade sign. It read: *“Arthur, I love you.”* Seeing her shivering in the downpour, my heart melted. Ignoring my parents’ warnings, I ran down and held her tight in the rain. At that moment, I was so sure of our love. But now, I had to wonder. Was her grand gesture back then out of love, or was it just a desperate play to secure her financial future? After we married, she worked hard, even suggesting that I should retire early and let her run the company. I actually considered it. But while she had ambition, her business decisions were too idealistic. She was snobbish with clients and struggled to maintain long-term professional relationships. So, after letting her try for a while, I took back the reins. She was deeply unhappy about it and gave me the silent treatment for weeks. To make it up to her, I bought her an apartment right next to the office. We lived in my house, which my parents had bought for us, so Vivian’s name wasn’t on the deed. After that fight, I bought the apartment solely in her name. She claimed she stayed there on nights she had to work late. I used to visit her there, but she told me she was worried about office gossip, so she asked me to stop coming. The next time I went, the locks had been changed. Her excuse was that she lost her keys and had to replace the lock. But she never offered to give me a copy of the new key. Now I knew why. That apartment was her and Simon’s secret love nest. To think that while I was pulling all-nighters at the office to secure our future, she was in that bed with Simon. It made me shake with pure rage. I will not accept this betrayal. I will make sure she understands that every action has its consequences. I hired a locksmith to discreetly make me a key to the apartment. I unlocked the door, and sure enough, it looked like a second home. There were matching couples’ toothbrushes, male underwear, and in the closet hung the elegant designer dress Vivian had worn to the school field day. This was their secret sanctuary. Putting on shoe covers and gloves, I carefully installed a tiny, hidden camera inside the bedroom ceiling smoke detector.

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Ethan Shaw changed the door lock password. The new password was sent to my email, and after trying twice, I got in. The apartment smelled wrong. The air was filled with gardenia-scented fabric softener, not the one I used. There were clothes in the washing machine that had not been taken out. One of his shirts and a floral dress. The dress was a size S, and I wore an L. I took the clothes out, folded them, and placed them on the sofa armrest. I glanced through the trash can too. Pizza for two, two cups of Coke, and neither was Diet Coke. I only drank Diet Coke. He knew that. So neither of those two cups was for me. I did not lose my temper. I sat on the sofa and waited for half an hour. When he came back and saw me, he froze for a second before changing his shoes. “You’re back early today.” I pointed at the dress on the sofa. “Who did you wash this for?” “A coworker. She spilled wine at a party—” “A coworker who wears size S, loves Coke, and uses gardenia fabric softener?” He did not answer. I picked up my bag and opened the door. “I’ll use the new password just this once. Change it again, and don’t send it to me.”

“It’s too late tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.” At 1:47 a.m., Ethan Shaw’s message popped up. Only the spotlight above the blending table was on in the studio, and the base notes of agarwood and cedar wrapped around me, cold and clean. Not gardenia. The second message came right after. “Lily Hart just drank too much and got her dress dirty, so she came over to shower. Don’t twist everything into the dirtiest possible version.” Lily Hart. He gave me a name. Earlier at home, he had called her “a coworker,” but now she had become Lily Hart. I did not reply right away. I unscrewed a bottle of petitgrain essential oil and brought it to my nose. My sense of smell could calm me down. Gardenia fabric softener was not a scent that clung after one shower. Those molecules seeped into the fibers, and it would take at least two to three straight weeks of use. I had studied perfumery for eight years, and my nose was more honest than his mouth. After organizing my words, I typed back, “She wears size S, uses gardenia fabric softener, and loves Coke. Those three things all happened during the half month after you changed the password. Ethan, there is no gardenia fabric softener in my apartment.” His “typing” indicator flashed six times. In the end, he sent a voice message. I tapped it open. First came two seconds of silence, then a long, drawn-out sigh. “The company’s new product has been under a lot of pressure. She helped me run channels and took care of a few daily things along the way. It was only for this period, and it won’t happen again.” Daily things. Changing his fabric softener and washing her own floral dress in his apartment. He called that “along the way.” I sent him a voice message, and my voice was even calmer than I had expected. “Are you admitting it?” “What am I admitting?” He typed faster than he talked. “Serena Cole, can you stop obsessing over details? I didn’t handle it well enough, but you can’t erase three years of us because of a bottle of fabric softener.” Three years. He brought up three years. Three years ago, he wanted to start a business, and there was forty thousand in the account. I sold three exclusive formulas and scraped together eight hundred thousand as his startup capital. Those formulas were based on what my mother had left me, and they were half my life. At the folding table in our rental apartment, he pressed his thumbprint on a piece of paper and wrote a crooked line: Half the company shares are yours, and the front door password will always be your birthday. Always. Back then, it was always. Now it had become “it won’t happen again.” I typed, “Three years. Are you talking about the three years when I invested eight hundred thousand and three formulas?” “See, you’re keeping score again,” he replied instantly. “I’m talking about feelings, and you drag money into it. That’s your problem.” My problem. I stared at those two words for a long time. I closed SnapChat and placed my phone face down on the blending table. When dawn was almost breaking, I returned to the apartment. I opened the fridge, and my hand stopped in midair. The fridge was packed full of Coke. There were handwritten sticky notes on the cups, the handwriting round and cute, with a little smiley face drawn on them—”Special sweetness for Mr. Shaw~ You worked hard! —Lily” Lily. She had given herself a nickname in my fridge. I took them out one cup at a time. There were eight cups in total. I opened the closet too. My coats and sweaters were still there, but an extra pink storage bag had appeared in the bottom drawer, with a teddy bear keychain hanging from the zipper and two neatly folded pairs of leggings inside, size S. There was also a new pink cup on the bathroom cup rack, printed with the words: SMALL BUT MIGHTY. I took my own toothbrush away and left that pink cup untouched. When I opened the jewelry box, Ethan’s engagement ring was still in the top compartment. One carat, and he said he had bought it with the company’s first profit. But the formula for that order had come from me. In the end, I had given it to myself. I walked back to the kitchen. A thin layer of condensation had formed on the outside of the eight Coke cups in the trash can. I threw the ring in. It sank to the bottom, wedged between the bottom of a cup and one of “Lily’s” sticky notes. My phone rang again. Ethan: “Are you coming back today? Let’s talk about last night in person. Don’t overthink alone.” I picked up my suitcase and took one last look at the apartment. Twelve hundred square feet, south-facing, a listing I found, a lease I signed, and now it smelled like someone else’s home. I only replied with one message: “I cleaned out the fridge. There’s something in the trash can. Remember to take it out.”

“We still need to talk about the shares in person.” A week later, Ethan sent me this message, along with a restaurant location. On the other end of the phone, Ava Reed was so anxious she started cursing. “Why the hell would you go? If he’s asking to meet now, he’s definitely up to something.” “We need to sign the share withdrawal agreement eventually,” I said. “Dragging it out does me no good.” “Then I’ll go with you.” “No. If there are more people, he’ll have an excuse to change the subject.” When I arrived at the restaurant entrance, the first thing I saw was that suit. Dark gray custom tailoring, subtle vertical stripes, the birthday gift I gave him two years ago. Back then, he said the cut looked too old and shoved it into the closet without wearing it once. He wore it today. The buttons were fastened all the way to the top, and his tie was tied in a Windsor knot. He stood up and pulled out a chair. “Sit. I ordered the sake-steamed clams you like.” “I’m here to sign the agreement.” “Eat first.” He pushed the plate forward. “You’ve been staying at the studio these days, right? The water heater there is broken. How are you showering?” “Does that have anything to do with the shares?” He paused, then took a document from his briefcase and spread it out. “You can withdraw your shares, but the company’s valuation can’t be finalized right now. We need to wait until after the third round of financing—” “Ethan.” I cut him off. Because I saw the person walking in through the door. A floral dress, size S, with a waist so thin it looked pinched into shape. The scent on her reached my nose from three tables away—gardenia. Not natural gardenia, but synthetic gardenia aldehyde from cheap household products, sickeningly sweet and flat. Lily Hart. The moment she “saw” us, her expression switched smoothly—first surprise, then embarrassment, then a smile that was eighty percent obedient and twenty percent innocent. “Oh, Mr. Shaw, you’re here too? What a coincidence.” She actually sat down. She pulled out the chair beside Ethan and sat down on her own. “Hello, Mrs. Shaw.” She nodded at me, the curve of her lips precise down to the millimeter. Mrs. Shaw. I put down my fork and said nothing. She immediately turned to Ethan. “Mr. Shaw, your stomach isn’t good, so you can’t eat spicy food. Let me switch this to plain oatmeal and something light for you, okay?” She reached for the menu, her arm brushing against Ethan’s sleeve, so natural it was like she had done it a hundred times. Ethan did not move away. “You won’t blame me for meddling, will you, Mrs. Shaw?” She looked up at me, her gaze full of consideration and propriety. “After the last party, Mr. Shaw’s stomach hurt all night, and I really couldn’t bear to see him suffer.” After the last party. The last time his stomach hurt. She knew better than I did when his stomach had hurt. “I don’t blame you,” I said, calling the server over. “Add one spicy grilled fish, extra spicy.” Lily blinked. “Mrs. Shaw, Mr. Shaw really can’t—” “He used to drink until he threw up for business dinners, so his stomach has always been bad, and he can’t eat spicy food. Didn’t you know?” She had no answer. Ethan frowned and lowered his voice by half a degree. “Serena, is this really necessary? Going after a young girl with all that sarcasm.” A young girl. A size S floral dress, gardenia fabric softener, eight cups of “special sweetness” in the fridge, and a pink SMALL BUT MIGHTY cup in the bathroom. In his mouth, it was reduced to two words—a young girl. “Where’s the share withdrawal agreement?” I pulled the topic back. “I said we’ll wait until after the third round of financing—” “How long?” “Three to six months.” “Give me a firm answer.” He drew the agreement closer to his side. “What’s the rush? It’s not like we’re divorcing and splitting assets. Calm down, take some time to cool off, and come back so we can live properly.” Take some time to cool off. He thought I was talking about feelings, while I was talking about equity. Lily suddenly spoke, her voice soft and gentle. “Mrs. Shaw, Mr. Shaw has really been under a lot of pressure lately. I’ve been overseeing the new product development line, and we’ve been busy until after midnight every day. If you’re worried, I’ll keep my distance from Mr. Shaw from now on.” Her words were beautiful. She backed down in public, made herself look weak, and casually slipped in “busy until after midnight every day.” I stood up. Ethan pressed his hand on the agreement. “Are you signing or not?” “Did you wear this suit today because you thought I’d soften up if you put on something I gave you?” I picked up my bag. “Something you shoved away for two years and never wore, then polished up to use in an emergency. It’s exactly like what you did to me.” His fingers tightened on the table. Beside him, Lily lowered her head and stirred her coffee, her shoulders shrinking slightly, as if she had suffered some enormous grievance. When I walked out of the restaurant, I heard her say behind me, “Mr. Shaw, did Mrs. Shaw misunderstand something about me? Should I not have come?” “It has nothing to do with you. Her temper has always been like this.” Ethan’s voice leaked through the gap in the glass door, clear as day. “Her temper has always been like this.”

“Serena, are you here at the company to pick up your things today?” Chloe at the front desk sounded a little nervous, and her eyes drifted toward the office area inside. “Yeah, I’m here to pick up my personal belongings.” Ethan’s company was in Building B of the tech park, taking up the entire third floor. I had helped him choose that office building back then and negotiated the lease down. I bought the plants at the front desk, and I blended the scent for the fragrance system at the end of the hallway. But today, as soon as I pushed the door open, I smelled gardenia. The diffuser stones in the hallway had been changed to a new scent. I did not stop and walked straight to Ethan’s office. The door was not closed. Nothing much had changed on the desk, and the bottom drawer was where I kept my things—a leather-bound notebook, A5 size, with a brown vegetable-tanned leather cover and corners worn pale. My mother’s handwritten formulas. The complete compositions of thirty-seven perfumes, all her notes, scent trial records, and raw material ratios were inside. When she passed away, she left nothing else, only this. The drawer was empty. The notebook was gone. I looked back at the workstations outside. At the desk directly facing Ethan’s office, the surface was covered with pink storage boxes and a laptop with a glittery case. My mother’s formula notebook was on that desk. It was pressed under a takeout container and an unfinished cup of Coke. A large brown water stain spread across the leather cover, and when I flipped open two pages, the brown stain had soaked through the paper, blurring half of my mother’s fountain pen writing. She had used my mother’s relic as a coaster. “Hey, Mrs. Shaw—” Lily had returned at some point, holding two new cups of Coke, and when she saw me standing in front of her workstation, her steps slowed by half a beat. “Mr. Shaw asked me to organize this notebook.” She put down the Coke, speaking as if she were explaining something completely natural. “Some of the formula data inside needs to be entered into the system.” “This is my personal property.” “But Mr. Shaw said these formulas are the company’s core assets—” I reached out to pull the notebook away. She moved back, and the chair wheels slid, her elbow knocking over the cup on the desk. Freshly brewed hot coffee. Boiling liquid poured over the back of my outstretched right hand. Pain. It felt like someone had pressed a piece of red-hot iron against my skin. The back of my hand swelled quickly, first turning red, then blistering, with clear blisters bulging one after another over my knuckles. My right hand. Perfumery required grinding, test strips, and turning the wrist to sense how a scent lingered. Everything depended on this hand. Lily screamed, but she was not looking at my hand—she was looking at the coffee stain splashed on her own thigh. Ethan rushed out of the office. He ran past me. He ran to Lily’s side, crouched down, and checked her leg. “Did you get burned? Let me see.” Then he turned his head and looked at me, frowning as if I had caused trouble. “You knew she’s clumsy. Why did you fight her over some stupid notebook?” Some stupid notebook. I clenched that leather notebook, now soaked and ruined by Coke, in my right hand. The blisters on the back of my hand burst under the pressure, and clear fluid ran down between my fingers, mixing with the brown Coke stains. “Ethan,” I said, “the eight hundred thousand you used to start your business came from this stupid notebook.” His expression finally cracked. “Don’t send me the password anymore. Even you feel dirty to me now.” I left with the notebook clenched in my hand. In the elevator, my hand began trembling uncontrollably, the pain so intense that my fingertips spasmed. Chloe ran after me and handed me a bottle of water, looking at my hand like she wanted to say something but hesitated. “Serena… should I call a car for you? Burns need treatment right away.” “Help me call a car to the hospital.” “Okay.” She paused for two seconds, then said quietly, “Serena, Lily… Mr. Shaw didn’t ask her to organize that notebook. She took it herself. Last week, she even took photos of the formulas inside and sent them to an outside supplier.” My fingers tightened around the notebook another degree. I could no longer feel the pain. “Thank you for telling me, Chloe.” She bit her lower lip and nodded hard, looking like she was about to cry. The car arrived. Before getting in, I looked back at the third-floor window, and the office lights were still on. “Let’s go.”

“Second-degree burns, with some deep second-degree areas.” The doctor took off his gloves and looked up at me. “What do you do for work?” “I’m a perfumer.” He paused, and the motion of tossing his gloves into the trash slowed by half a beat. “The deep second-degree areas over the joints on the back of your right hand may leave scars. Right now, we still need to monitor the wound for infection risk, and skin grafting cannot be ruled out later.” “Will finger movement be affected?” “It’s hard to say for now. It depends on recovery. If scar contracture develops, the bending angle of your fingers may be limited.” By the time Ava rushed into the hospital room, my hand was already wrapped in gauze. “Serena Cole, are you insane? Why didn’t you call me? Your hand—” “Help me do a few things.” Her eyes were red with anxiety, and her mouth was still open before she could finish scolding me. “First, block every contact method for Ethan Shaw.” “Okay.” “Second, help me check flights to Grasse today.” “You’re leaving?” “I’m going to Grasse. There’s a fragrance-producing region there, and I contacted an estate owner before. I can do independent R&D there.” “Wait—your hand is already like this, and you still—” “Ava.” She shut up. I lowered my head and looked at my right hand, wrapped tightly in gauze. Beneath the white bandages were ulcerated wounds, broken blisters, and a piece of skin whose future was uncertain. A perfumer’s hand. “Help me buy a ticket. Tonight.” She said nothing more and took out her phone to start working. She blocked him and deleted all chat records. Then she suddenly stopped. “Serena, look at this.” She handed me her phone. It was an Ins page. The account was called “Lily Sweetpea,” with half a side profile as the avatar, and an amethyst necklace hanging at the collarbone—I had seen the same style beside the cup rack in Ethan’s bathroom. The latest post had been published three hours ago. Title: [New Home Decorating Vlog | Building Our Little Nest with Him] A nine-photo grid. The first photo was the living room, my sofa, the floor lamp I chose, and a bouquet of gardenias on the table. The second photo was the kitchen, with the fridge door open and rows of thirty-percent-sugar Coke inside, the sticky notes on the cups clearly visible. The third photo was the bathroom. That pink SMALL BUT MIGHTY cup was placed in the center, and the spot for my toothbrush beside it was already empty. The fourth photo was the bedroom. The photo on the nightstand had been changed. In the frame was a photo of Ethan and Lily together, the two of them leaning against each other at the beach Ethan and I had gone to last year. Comments: “You’re so happy! Your boyfriend’s place is huge!” “How many bedrooms is this? So luxurious for two people!” “I’m jealous, I’m jealous. When are you getting the marriage license?” In three hours, there were two hundred and forty-seven comments. She had turned my home into her content material. My sofa, my lamp, the lease I signed, the home I found, all became “our little nest” in her title. “There’s another one.” Ava scrolled down to a post from last week. “Look at this.” Title: [My Perfumery Diary | Learning to Make Perfume at My Boyfriend’s Company] In the photo was an open leather-bound notebook—my mother’s formula notebook. She had photographed the inner pages. My mother’s fountain pen writing, the raw material ratios and scent trial records written line by line, had been photographed and posted on social media by her, with the caption: “My boyfriend’s company’s exclusive formula notebook. I heard it’s worth millions. I’ll work hard too and become a master perfumer!” One thousand three hundred likes. Four hundred and seventy saves. The things my mother wrote stroke by stroke were now in the saved folders of four hundred and seventy strangers. “Serena…” “Have you bought the plane ticket?” “I bought it. Eleven tonight.” “Let’s go.” I stood up, without putting my right arm into the sleeve of my coat, and when the gauze on the back of my hand brushed against the edge of my clothes, the pain made my vision go white. Ava supported my arm and walked me to the hospital lobby, and my phone suddenly rang. An unfamiliar number. When I answered, it was a man’s voice, very formal. “May I ask if this is Ms. Serena Cole? I’m Attorney Clark from M&C Law Firm, contacting you on behalf of Mr. Ethan Shaw.” “What is it?” “The share agreement you previously signed with Mr. Shaw does not constitute a valid shareholder relationship under the law because it does not have the statutory filing procedures required by the company charter. Mr. Shaw hopes to negotiate with you amicably—” “You mean that agreement is invalid?” “Strictly speaking, that handwritten document is indeed difficult to use as—” “I invested eight hundred thousand at the time. There are transfer records.” “Mr. Shaw’s position is that the nature of that sum was a personal loan rather than an equity investment, and he is willing to repay it in installments—” I hung up. The taxi was waiting at the entrance. Ava opened the car door, looked at my face, and said nothing. After the car drove through two intersections, she finally asked quietly, “Serena, are you… okay right now?” The night slid past the car window, and streetlights retreated one by one. “Help me look into someone,” I said. “Lily Hart’s background, work experience, and how she got into Ethan’s company.” “You suspect she—” “I don’t believe anything anymore. Help me investigate.”

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When my parents divorced, my dad fought tooth and nail for my older brother, Brandon. My mom did the same for my younger sister, Chloe. I was the middle child. Nobody wanted me. I was the trash of the family, rejected by everyone. Little did they know, I was born with a fated luck aura. As long as I stayed in this house, the family would thrive. But the moment I left, they would plunge into rapid ruin. Sure enough, after the divorce, my father’s business went bankrupt, and my mother’s career was completely destroyed. As for my siblings, Brandon’s arms were permanently crushed, and Chloe had to have both of her legs amputated. Meanwhile, I lived my best life alone. My luck aura blessed my own path, and in less than a year, I became the youngest self-made billionaire in the country. When my parents finally realized that all their past wealth was entirely thanks to my fated luck… They regretted everything. They fell to their knees in front of me, sobbing and begging me to come home. I just gave them a cold smirk. “Who are you beggars? Get lost, before I have security throw you out.”

Today was the day my parents got divorced, and the day our custody was decided. In the courtroom, Arthur didn’t hesitate to choose Brandon. Victoria immediately chose Chloe. Once their choices were made, they fell into a tacit silence. Their eyes only lingered on their chosen children, filled with warmth and expectation. I sat alone in the corner of the bench, like a piece of forgotten luggage. Watching this, my nose stung, and my chest felt so tight it ached. The judge fell silent for a moment, flipping through the files. He frowned and asked, “What about… the other child? Ethan?” Hearing my name, my heart skipped a beat. I looked at Arthur and Victoria with a tiny, desperate shred of hope. But their brows instantly furrowed. Their eyes filled with undisguised disgust. Victoria curled her lip and turned to Arthur. “Arthur, you have a massive estate. You should take Ethan. You have enough money to feed stray dogs, so you can’t tell me you can’t afford your own son. It’s just adding another plate to the table!” “Victoria! You really have a slick tongue!” Arthur’s voice shot up as he snapped. “Raise him? He’ll only drag Brandon down and ruin my company’s reputation! You gave birth to him. You raise him. I’m not spending a single dime on him!” The two of them immediately started screaming at each other, tossing me back and forth like a piece of unwanted garbage. Their toxic words stabbed deep into my heart. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I stood up and screamed at them, my voice cracking with tears, “Dad! Mom! What did I do wrong? I’m your child too!” Faced with my question, they looked embarrassed for a split second, which quickly morphed into furious rage. “Look at yourself! Do you really have no self-awareness?” Victoria’s face twisted as she shrieked, “How dare you speak to us like that? Is that how you show respect? You ungrateful little brat!” Arthur pointed a finger right at my nose. “A useless waste like you should have never been born in the first place!” My heart died right then and there. Since they saw me as nothing but trash, why should I beg for their scraps? I turned directly to the judge. “Your Honor, I want to apply for legal emancipation. I don’t want either of them to have custody over me.” The judge looked at my parents, who showed absolutely no objection, and sighed before granting my request. Leaving the courthouse, I watched the two happy little families walking ahead of me. I said coldly: “This is the last time I will ever call you Mom and Dad. I remember telling you before that I have a luck aura.” “Everything you have right now—your wealth, your success—was because of me.” “Now that you’ve thrown me away, don’t come begging when your business goes bankrupt and your careers are ruined!”

I wasn’t trying to flatter myself when I said those words. Ever since I was a kid, I had this fated luck aura. As long as I was around, the family prospered. Ever since my aura activated, Arthur’s failing business suddenly took off, making him a multi-millionaire CEO. Victoria, who was on the verge of being laid off, got promoted all the way to becoming a celebrity dance instructor. Because of the blessing of my aura, Brandon was hailed as a math genius, and Chloe was praised as a prodigy dancer. I blessed everyone in that house, yet I was treated like a parasite. And now, they had abandoned me. The firstborn is the pride, the youngest is the spoiled baby, and the middle child is just the invisible punching bag. Classic Middle Child Syndrome. I was always the extra one. In their world, there was never any room for me. I still remember when we were kids. When Brandon won a math competition, Arthur bought him a ten-thousand-dollar gaming rig without blinking. When Chloe performed on stage, Victoria would proudly present her with massive bouquets of flowers. And me? I brought home straight A’s and top-tier trophies year after year. All I got in return was cold mockery. Victoria wouldn’t even look up from her phone. “Stop wasting time on useless things. Who knows if you cheated just to get attention.” Arthur tore my certificates into shreds. “Can this paper buy food? Can it make money? You’re just trying to copy Brandon to beg for presents, aren’t you? Stop embarrassing us.” All my hard work, all my proof of worth, was nothing but trash to be stepped on in their eyes. What hurt even more was that they always “forgot” to send me lunch money, while Brandon and Chloe’s accounts were always loaded on time, often with extra bonuses. Arthur was a wealthy CEO, and Victoria was a famous instructor, yet their middle son almost starved to death. How ironic. Outside the courthouse, when they heard me talk about my luck aura, they laughed. Arthur sneered, “A luck aura? You? You don’t deserve it! My company is successful because of my own hard work! It has absolutely nothing to do with a loser like you!” Victoria scoffed, “Lying just to get our attention. You’re trying to take credit for our hard work. You are rotten to the core. Thank god we didn’t choose you.” Brandon glared at me, his voice full of arrogance. “Ethan! How dare you curse our family! You’re disgusting!” Chloe looked at me with pure disdain. “No wonder Mom and Dad hate you. You only know how to throw tantrums because you’re incompetent. Look at yourself.” Faced with their insults, I shut my mouth. They would cry soon enough. I left without even going back to pack my things. That house had never had a place for me anyway. I slept in the cramped utility closet and wore Brandon’s old hand-me-downs. The SATs were only a few days away. This was my last chance, my only ticket out. I had to fight with everything I had. Otherwise, I would truly be ruined for life. But once I started living on my own, I was shocked to find myself completely transformed. My mind was clearer than ever. Even the hardest prep questions felt incredibly easy. I even bought a few scratch-offs at a gas station and won several thousand dollars in a row. A thought flashed through my mind: “Now that I’ve cut ties with them, my luck aura is finally blessing ME. Because I am my own family now.” This realization made me ecstatic. The scales of fate were finally tipping in my favor.

The exam day arrived quickly. I cruised through the SATs, my pen flying across the paper like magic. Meanwhile, in another testing center, Brandon was staring at his test sheet, sweating profusely. “How is this happening?” Brandon stared at the blank spaces, his fingers shaking uncontrollably. “I… I knew how to do these questions yesterday…” Ever since I left, Brandon had felt his mind growing cloudier and slower. But he had brushed it off, too arrogant to care, still spending his nights partying. He didn’t realize he was suffering from the backlash of my departure. As the timer ticked down to the last few minutes, a desperate, wild thought crossed his mind. When the proctor turned her back, he leaned over and peeked at the sheet of the student next to him… At the exact same time, Arthur was drowning in corporate chaos. His business partners were pulling out of contracts for no reason. Major projects were failing one after another. In the past, he could solve these issues in his sleep. But now, he had no idea what to do. If this kept up, his company would go bankrupt. Suddenly, his phone rang loudly. “What? My son cheated? I knew that little piece of trash Ethan was no good! But you don’t need to call me, he’s emancipated! He’s not my problem!” Arthur immediately assumed it was me, letting out a stream of vile curses. However, when the voice on the line clarified that the cheater was Brandon, Arthur felt like he had been struck by lightning. “No way! You must have made a mistake! Brandon won math trophies! Why would he need to cheat?!” Brandon was his pride and joy, the heir he was grooming to take over the company. Hearing this news felt like his entire sky was collapsing. Brandon’s SAT scores were completely voided, and he was banned from taking College Board exams for three years. This news was a fatal blow to Arthur’s already struggling company. Meanwhile, Chloe was participating in a massive, high-stakes dance showcase. Many top industry directors and scouts were in the audience. The future of her entire dance company depended on this performance. The artistic director had put all his hope on Chloe. But when the music started, everyone was horrified. The backup dancers moved gracefully, but Chloe just stood there like a statue, tears welling up in her eyes. She realized that every single dance move had vanished from her brain. Even her proud muscle memory was completely gone. “What are you doing? Dance!” Victoria screamed frantically from the wings, her voice cracking. This threw the backup dancers off, ruining the entire formation. Chloe tried to move, but she was as clumsy as a lame duck. “This is the prodigy you bragged about?” a prominent director in the front row asked, his voice dripping with disgust. Victoria rushed to explain, “She… she’s usually not like this! She’s just nervous…” “Her movements have zero technique. She’s worse than a beginner,” a famous choreographer said, frowning. “Victoria, I highly doubt your professional credentials as an instructor.” “And people call you a master teacher? I don’t see a single trace of talent here.” Victoria’s face went paper-white. She knew better than anyone that once these words spread, her career as a celebrity dance coach was over. The director of the dance company looked like he had lost his mind. His years of hard work had just gone up in smoke. His eyes turned bloodshot as he stared at Chloe on stage. In a sudden fit of psychotic rage, he rushed onto the stage, grabbed a heavy metal prop from the set, and slammed it violently into Chloe’s legs. “Ahhhhh!!!” A horrific shriek echoed through the entire theater. “You useless bitch! You ruined me!” The director screamed hysterically, his voice shaking with mad desperation. “My life’s work… gone! All gone!” Victoria stood frozen, all color draining from her face, her soul seemingly sucked out of her body. The director was eventually tackled by security and hauled away by the police. Chloe was rushed to the ER. To Victoria’s horror, the diagnosis came back: Chloe’s legs were shattered beyond repair. She would never stand again. Arthur rushed to the hospital with Brandon. Even though he was divorced, he still loved his daughter. He held the medical report with trembling hands. The stress of the past few weeks had aged him by ten years. His eyes were red and wet. “Why… why is this happening…” “My company is ruined, Brandon is banned, and now Chloe…” Arthur collapsed onto the hallway floor, sobbing hoarsely. “Oh God! What did our family do to deserve this?!” Victoria was crying uncontrollably, looking incredibly disheveled. Suddenly, she shuddered, as if struck by a terrifying realization. Her lips trembled as she whispered: “Could… could Ethan have been telling the truth? Is he really a luck charm? Was our wealth all because of him?” “Since we kicked him out, the company, Brandon, Chloe, and me… all of us…” She grabbed Arthur’s arm tightly, her eyes wide with terror and regret. “When he was home, nothing like this ever happened!” Arthur sat frozen on the floor. He connected the dots of everything that had happened recently. His face went dead white, and he felt a wave of regret so strong he wanted to beat his head against the wall.

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