1 The day my fiancé and the true heiress announced their engagement, I wanted to drive my car straight into the hall and take them all down with me. But just as that insane thought took hold, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I answered. It was the hospital. “Miss Qin, you’re pregnant…” The engine died, and I sat there, frozen. Half an hour later, as cheerful music drifted from the grand hall, I started the car again. I turned it around and drove straight to the airport. And so, just as everyone wanted, the fake heiress of the Qin family vanished from Veyra City. I fled a thousand miles away to Port Blossom. I fought tooth and nail to survive, to bring my daughter—my own flesh and blood—into this world. I never contacted any of them again. Until four years later, when they started showing up, one by one. 2 The first time I saw Leo Vance in four years was outside the kindergarten. I had just picked up Daisy when another mom nudged me. “Hey, Daisy’s mom, look across the street. Isn’t that the famous singer… what’s his name again…” I followed her gaze and saw him. “Leo Vance!” The mom snapped her fingers. “That’s him!” I pulled my eyes away. “Never heard of him.” She looked surprised. “You don’t listen to music? Leo Vance! He’s been the biggest indie singer-songwriter for the past few years! Won a ton of awards!” She leaned in closer. “You know, looking at him… he actually looks a bit like you. You both have that kind of striking beauty…” I just smiled and shook my head, leading Daisy away. “Barbara Qin.” His voice cut through the air behind me. I ignored it and kept walking. “Barbara!” Daisy looked up at me. “Mommy, is that man calling you? Why did he call you Barbara Qin?” I smiled down at her. “He’s got the wrong person, sweetie.” But when we reached the parking lot, just as I was about to open the car door, a hand grabbed my arm. I turned. It was Leo, panting, his face flushed. “Barbara,” he breathed, “you… you’re actually alive?!” His words, as always, were laced with acid. But maybe from the run, his eyes were rimmed with a faint, unmistakable red. 3 I dropped Daisy off at the neighbor’s. When I came back downstairs, Leo was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “What are you doing living in a dump like this? Where’s your apartment? I’m coming up.” I shook my head. “There’s no need.” Four years ago, he was the one who said his only sister was Isabelle Vance. He was the one who said the thought of calling someone like me his sister made him sick. When Ethan Qin cast me out, when Julian abandoned me, I was lost. I had thought, for a desperate moment, of turning to him—my own blood brother. I stood outside his record label’s building all night in a blizzard, nearly freezing to death. But all I got from him was a single, brutal sentence: His greatest wish was that I had never been born. “If you didn’t exist, Isabelle would never have been switched at birth. She wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” “Sister? What a joke. Now that the Qins have thrown you out, you’re trying to play the ‘family’ card with me? I would never acknowledge someone like you.” That’s when I finally understood. No matter how much I had done for him, he would always hate me because of Isabelle. Now, he was looking at me with that same judgmental gaze, his brow furrowed. “That kid… is she Julian’s? Did you run off just to have his baby?” I paused. “She is my daughter. Mine alone.” A smirk twisted his lips. “Barbara, she’s the spitting image of him. Do you think I’m blind?” “Don’t tell me you actually thought you could win him back by secretly having his kid. Are you that delusional… God, it’s not just pathetic, it’s sad.” “I told you, she is my daughter,” I cut in, my voice sharp. “I have no intention of ever returning to Veyra City, and I certainly have no plans to use my child to fight with your precious Isabelle over Julian. You can relax. You don’t have to be so hostile.” “Just like you said back then, we’re strangers who happen to share some DNA. I’m not interested in your life, so please, do me the courtesy of staying out of mine.” He stared at me, stunned. “If there’s nothing else, you should go,” I said, turning away. “Wait.” He grabbed my arm again, his grip tight. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You… you…” I frowned. “What?” “Why… why did you leave back then?” he finally stammered out. “You were a pampered princess who couldn’t do anything for herself. So what if a few people said some mean things? You just had to run away with a baby in your belly like some drama queen.” “If I hadn’t found you, how long were you planning on living this miserable life? And these past four years…” He hesitated. “How… how the hell did you survive?” 4 I glanced at his eyes, red-rimmed again. Probably from anger. He was likely shocked that I was still alive. My existence was a threat to Isabelle’s perfect life. How did I survive? Someone else gave their life so I could. But I had no reason to tell him that. The old Barbara Qin was a delicate hothouse flower, sheltered from the world. But the woman I was now, Barbara Shaw, had long ago learned not to cry for help. He saw my silence and grew agitated. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so withdrawn? Don’t tell me that big earthquake in Port Blossom a few years ago rattled your brain. Serves you right for running off to a godforsaken place like this.” Just then, a neighbor walked by. “Hey Barbara, getting dinner started?” I forced a smile. “Just about to.” Leo froze. “You should go now,” I said. But his grip on my arm tightened. “Why did your name change? Shaw?! Are you married? Wait, whose name is that?” “Whose name it is has nothing to do with you.” I pried his fingers off my arm, one by one. “My name, my life… Leo, none of it is any of your business.” 5 Leo was a celebrity. He couldn’t afford to make a scene in public. I went upstairs, brought Daisy home, and from the hallway window, I saw him still standing below, looking lost. He never cared about me before. This sudden display of concern was probably just his discomfort with my new indifference. After all, four years ago, when I learned of his musical dreams, I had used every connection I had in Veyra City’s high society just to get him an audition. The very record label he was signed to now was the one I had fought to get for him. He was my brother. He had suffered. I wanted him to succeed. But he twisted my kindness into a calculated plot to isolate and hurt Isabelle. “Mommy, was that uncle today… your family?” Daisy asked from her bed. I paused, then smiled, stroking her hair. “No, sweetie. Why would you think that?” “Just guessing. You two look alike.” Family. An image of Ethan flashed in my mind. I used to believe that no matter what, blood or not, Ethan would always be my brother. But four years ago, he had held Isabelle in his arms after she’d fallen down the stairs, and the look he gave me was pure rage. “Barbara, you have disappointed me more than I can say.” “From this day on, you are no longer a part of the Qin family. And I no longer have you as a sister.” “My only sister is Isabelle.” I had cried, clinging to his legs, pleading that I hadn’t pushed her, begging him not to abandon me. But he kicked my hand away and walked out with Isabelle in his arms, never looking back. I shook my head, clearing the memory. “That man is not mommy’s family.” Daisy’s face fell. “Oh. I thought maybe you had other family besides Uncle Sean.” I smiled and booped her nose. “Mommy has you and Uncle Sean. That’s all I need.” “But Uncle Sean is gone…” she mumbled, her lip trembling. “I miss him.” I understood. But a gentle sadness was better than the soul-crushing agony of having something, depending on it, only to have it ripped away. I had lived through that. I would never let my daughter experience the same pain. I just never expected to see Ethan the very next day. 6 Daisy spiked a fever in the middle of the night. I rushed her to the hospital. The viral infection was aggressive, and she needed to be admitted for an IV drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. By morning, the fever finally broke. She was listless and weak. I carried her on my back, stopping at a street vendor to buy some meat and vegetables on the way home. Just as I paid, a hand with long, elegant fingers took the bags from me. I froze. I looked up and saw Ethan’s face through the hazy morning mist. My sleep-deprived brain went blank. For a split second, I almost called him ‘brother’ before I remembered. He had forbidden me from ever calling him that again. The Qin family was a power I couldn’t afford to cross. After all, to punish me for ‘bullying’ Isabelle, Ethan’s single word had been enough to get me blacklisted by all of Veyra City. “Mr. Qin,” I corrected myself immediately. I was too busy trying to figure out why he was in Port Blossom to notice the flicker of pain that crossed his face. “Let me carry that,” he said softly. “It’s fine.” I reached for the bags, but my movement was clumsy, and Daisy whimpered on my back. “Don’t push yourself, Cece.” He stopped me, his hand on my arm, keeping the bags from me. “Let me take you and the child home.” 7 Cece. It had been so long since Ethan had called me that. Our parents were always abroad, so for most of my life, Ethan was the one who raised me. And when he saw me as his sister, he truly spoiled me. Someone once asked him if he wasn’t afraid I’d cause trouble with how much he pampered me. He had just smirked. “So what if she causes trouble? Let her. No matter how big the mess, I’ll be there to clean it up.” But then Isabelle came home. At first, he promised me I would always be his sister too. But every time Isabelle provoked me, he would tell me to be the bigger person. “She’s been through a lot, Cece. Just let it go.” He said we had to make it up to her. I didn’t want to make things difficult for him. He had been my brother for over twenty years; I just wanted him to be happy. So I let it go. I endured it. Again and again. It wasn’t until he blindly believed Isabelle’s lies about me that I finally realized: I saw him as my brother, but he had long since stopped seeing me as his sister. And when he took back all his affection, leaving me to be torn apart by the world, I understood just how foolish I’d been to ever depend on him. We drove in silence. It had been ages since I’d ridden in a Maybach. The luxury felt alien. I just held Daisy tighter, my mind racing. Did Leo tell him? Was he here to make sure I wouldn’t hurt Isabelle? What would he do to me? Punish me for secretly having Julian’s child? I didn’t know. My head throbbed. I hugged Daisy closer, completely missing the look of profound longing in his eyes as he watched me. “Cece…” I looked up. There were new lines around his eyes. “Four years ago… we all thought you…” “You thought I was dead, I know,” I finished for him. “Honestly, it’s better if you just assume I am. I gave up fighting with Isabelle a long time ago. Everything was hers to begin with; it’s only right that it went back to her. You don’t have to be so tense, so defensive. You don’t need to come check on me. All I want is to live a quiet life with my daughter.” “And about my daughter,” I added, “she will only ever be with me. I will never go looking for Julian. I swear on my life, I will not use her to sabotage Isabelle and Julian’s relationship. You can rest assured.” I met his gaze and repeated, “You really can rest assured.” He looked stunned. “That’s not…” “Then are you afraid I’ll use the Qin family name to cause trouble? Don’t worry, I won’t. I changed my last name years ago…” “Cece!” he cut in, his voice cracking. His eyes were red. “Brother… is here to bring you home.”

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After the memory-erasure procedure, I forgot my boyfriend of ten years. I forgot the sister I’d raised with my own hands, only to be stabbed in the back by her. I forgot everything about Sterling City… I went south, alone, and opened a small flower shop. Everyone thought I was just throwing a tantrum, that I’d be back before long. Until a strange customer walked into my shop one day and asked in surprise, “After all these years, why have you never contacted Peter Ford? Do you have any idea he’s been waiting for you for five whole years?” I answered, completely lost. “I’m sorry, I had a memory-erasure procedure. Who’s Peter Ford?” The words hung in the air, followed by a dead silence. A sudden, baseless panic seized my heart. I subconsciously turned to look. Outside the window, framed by the sunken, heavy darkness of the night, a man stood staring at me, his eyes rimmed with red. … In the tenth year of our relationship, Peter cheated on me. With the sister I had practically raised myself. The moment I saw them kissing, I slapped Peter across the face without hesitation. The next thing I knew, my sister, Beth, had pushed me down the stairs. As I tumbled down, a sickening, familiar certainty washed over me. Everyone I cared about would eventually be stolen by Beth. Beth was my father’s illegitimate daughter. When she was thirteen, my mother, in the throes of a severe bipolar episode after discovering the affair, had a catastrophic breakdown. She was institutionalized and passed away not long after, leaving me, at twenty, as Beth’s sole guardian. My work was demanding, so I had no choice but to bring her to the office with me. She was a bright, effervescent girl, a little ball of sunshine. My friends and colleagues, initially wary, slowly fell under her spell. “Your sister is so much more charming than you are,” was something I heard more than once. Now, even the man I had loved for a decade thought so too. When I woke up in the hospital, Peter was sitting by my bed. “That kiss,” he said, “it was a mistake. An accident. It won’t happen again… As for Beth, she’s your sister, and she’s so young. Don’t hold it against her, okay?” I looked down and let out a soft, bitter laugh. “You’re saying all this because you’re afraid I’ll kick her out, aren’t you?” He flinched, then tightened his grip on my hand. “Sera, I know you’re still angry. It’s okay. I’ll stay with you until you’re not.” I pulled my hand away and turned my back to him. I heard him sigh behind me, as if I were a petulant child. His phone rang. I could clearly hear Beth’s voice, small and trembling. “Peter, I’m so scared all alone at home. Can you come back and stay with me?” He murmured a few comforting words to her, then said to me, “There’s an emergency at the office. I’ll be right back.” He rushed out the door before I could even answer. He never came back that night. I lay there, staring blankly at a hospital brochure on the nightstand. New Memory-Erasure Procedure: Forget 99% of Your Troubles. I’ve always been decisive. When something is spoiled, I throw it out. So, Peter, our ten years together… I was done with it all. Coming out of the operating room, my mind was a thick fog. The past was shrouded in mist, and I felt like a detached observer, calm and rational. Following the address on my hospital file, I went home. I opened the door to a chorus of cheers. “Happy birthday, Beth!” I walked into the living room. Everyone was gathered around Beth, singing. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged Peter tightly, a picture of surprised delight. A friend spotted me and cleared her throat. The room fell silent. After a moment, a slightly awkward Peter asked, “Sera, you’re out of the hospital already? Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.” I sidestepped his attempt to take my bag. “The hospital wasn’t exactly peaceful. I figured I’d be better off at home.” His words hung in the air, and a wave of discomfort washed over the guests. My best friend of many years, Leah, stepped forward to smooth things over. “Sera, you’re just in time! It’s Beth’s birthday. We all chipped in for a gift. Since you’re her sister, you should be the one to give it to her.” An exquisite little box was pressed into my hands. I stood frozen for a second before taking it and holding it out to Beth. I had been her sister for years. This gift would be a final closing of that chapter. As I offered it, Beth reached out, but somehow it slipped and fell to the floor. The box burst open, and a beautiful Murano glass bracelet inside shattered into pieces. Beth’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Sister, you still can’t forgive me? That was an accident, I swear! I’ve been so worried about you while you were in the hospital…” Seeing her cry, everyone rushed to comfort her, their eyes turning on me with reproach. “Sera, seriously, you’re her older sister. Are you still going to be mad at her?” “It’s her birthday! Can’t you just let her be happy for one day?” I looked at the faces accusing me. In the center of them all, looking at me with profound disappointment, was the man I had loved for ten years. A roaring filled my ears. My vision blurred, and I swayed on my feet. “Alright, everyone, don’t blame Sera. She just got out of the hospital,” Peter said, stepping to my side. His voice was gentle. “Don’t be hard on Beth. She’s just a kid.” He picked up the broken pieces and the box, trying to hand them back to me. “She just fumbled it by accident. Just give it to her again… you two need to get along from now on.” His voice was soft, but the hand on my shoulder was pressing down, a silent command. I took a deep breath, stepped away from his touch, and said quietly, “There’s no need. She and I… we probably won’t be living together anymore.” “I actually came back today to pack my things.” The moment I finished speaking, Beth burst into loud, wrenching sobs. “Sister, are you… are you kicking me out?” She looked helplessly at Peter. “Peter, what do I do? You promised me…” Peter patted her head soothingly before turning to me, his brow furrowed with impatience. Before I could explain, the accusations started again. “Sera! That’s going too far!” “If you kick Beth out, where will she go?” “What if something happens to her out there all alone? Do you have a heart?” Leah looked at me with pity, pleading Beth’s case. “Come on, Sera. Look how upset she is. She’s so young…” I stared at Leah, a desolate emptiness spreading through my chest. When she’d been scammed out of her life savings, I had given her every penny I had to help her get back on her feet. She had hugged me then, tears of gratitude in her eyes, calling me her best friend in the world. Now, she stood against me, rebuking me for the sake of the sister who had kissed my fiancé. “Leah, no matter how close we are, this is my family’s business… Besides, I’m the one moving out. This house…” Peter cut me off. “That’s enough, Sera. Leah is just trying to stand up for Beth. Beth is your sister. This house belongs to her too.” He comforted Beth with one hand while glaring at me. “At the end of the day, you’re still holding a grudge about what happened. But she’s just a kid. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t take it out on her.” The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat, choked off by their accusations. Beth timidly approached, taking my hand. “Sister, please don’t be mad at me. I promise I won’t say a single word to Peter ever again. You’re the only family I have left…” I didn’t speak, but a sharp pain shot through my hand. I felt a sharp sting, like a needle prick. Instinctively, I yanked my hand away. The force sent Beth stumbling backward, and she fell to the floor. I reached out to help her up, but Peter shoved me aside. “Don’t you touch her!” I had never seen him so furious. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Peter, my ankle… I think I twisted it…” Beth whimpered. Peter swept her up into his arms and glared at me. “I’m taking her out of here. You need some time to cool off and think about what you’ve done.” His jaw tightened. “Sera, you have really, truly disappointed me.” My hand twitched almost imperceptibly. I sniffled quietly, trying to fight back the burning in my eyes. No one else said a word, but their condemning gazes were enough. They decided to go with Beth to the hospital, to celebrate her birthday elsewhere. As they were leaving, a boy who’d been pursuing Beth for a while said loudly, “If it wasn’t for Beth, I wouldn’t even come to this dump.” “Someone’s just jealous that Beth’s more popular than her! An old hag trying to compete with a young girl, it’s disgusting.” Peter’s shoulders tensed for a moment, but he didn’t turn back. He just carried Beth away in silence. After they left, I immediately called a real estate agent to sell the house. The agent was puzzled. The location was prime, the value was only going to increase. He advised me not to rush. I just smiled and shook my head. After he left, I sat on the sofa and murmured to the empty room, “Grandma, I’m leaving. I couldn’t keep the house. Please don’t be mad at me.” My phone buzzed. A message from Peter. You left your necklace at my place. When are you coming to get it? He had attached a picture. It was the gift he’d given me for our tenth anniversary. A custom Chaumet piece, with a fiery ruby at its center. It was beautiful, but it stirred nothing in me. I replied flatly: Just keep it for now. We’ll figure it out later. After sending the message, I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, Peter was sitting by my bed. His voice was hoarse. “You’re awake? I came to check on you and bring you the necklace.” I didn’t get up. I just took the necklace from him and placed it on the table. “Thanks. You didn’t have to bring it over so late.” He shook his head. “This necklace is important.” “Looking at it reminds me of everything we’ve been through… all the storms we’ve weathered. And now we’re fighting over something so small… it’s not worth it.” I thought of the past, too. The time he drove through the night in a storm to bring me medicine when I had a fever, nearly getting into a car accident. The time a monk at a temple predicted a life of loneliness for me. He had insisted on prostrating himself with every single step up the mountain, his forehead bruised and his knees bleeding, praying with his eyes squeezed shut, “I wish Sera a life of peace, fulfillment, and happiness.” When I was diagnosed with uterine cancer and told I could never have children, he got a vasectomy, making his stance clear to his disapproving mother. It was so good back then… I held out my hand, the bruises and pinpricks from the IV still visible on the back. He ignored them. “Beth is having a rough time at the hotel. She got food poisoning from takeout and had to go to the hospital. Let’s go pick her up together, okay?” I asked calmly, “Pick her up and bring her where? Peter, I told you, I’m selling the house.” His brow furrowed. “When did you decide that? Why would you sell the house?” I sighed. “The day of Beth’s birthday. I told you then, I’m moving out.” His lips pressed into a thin line. After a moment, he stood up. “Well, you get some rest. I’m going to the hospital to check on Beth. She shouldn’t be alone when she’s sick.” After I heard the door click shut, I waited a few minutes, then got up and deleted his fingerprint from the smart lock. I lay back down and closed my eyes. I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, a wave of dizziness hit me as I got out of bed, and I stumbled into the nightstand. The necklace fell to the floor. Worried it might be damaged and I’d have to pay for it, I picked it up to inspect it. That’s when I saw the inscription on the inside of the clasp: “LOVE C”. C for Beth. There was no question who this necklace was really for. I got up, opened my safe, and there it was—my necklace, lying safely inside, engraved with “SERA”. I stared at it for a long time, and then I started to laugh. I laughed until my eyes burned with tears. So, my anniversary with Peter was also his anniversary with Beth. The agent quickly found a buyer for the house. With the money in my account, I moved into a hotel. My days were simple: medical treatments and long walks. Peter and Beth seemed to have faded from my life. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of peace. Until Peter called. “Get to the hospital! Now! Immediately!” I didn’t want to go, but the thought that we hadn’t officially broken up made me get up and go. When I arrived, everyone was crowded into a hospital room. Peter looked at me, the disappointment in his eyes so thick it was practically spilling over. “Tell me, why would you do this to Beth!” “Beth has always had depression, and you hired people to go to her hotel and terrorize her! What is wrong with you?!” His grip on my shoulders was excruciating. I tried to pull away, but he was deaf to my protests. The others just watched, indifferent. Among them was the best friend to whom I had given my life savings, the subordinate I had helped mentor. All of them looked at me with hatred. “It wasn’t me! I haven’t even seen her! And I had no idea she had depression until today.” Leah couldn’t hold back. “You’re still denying it? If you didn’t know, how did you use your status as her legal guardian to stop the doctors from giving her medication?!” “If Beth had been taking her medicine, she wouldn’t have been triggered like this! She’s on the verge of death, and you’re still lying!” Only then did I see Beth, cowering behind Peter, trembling. “Beth? What’s wrong?” At the sound of my voice, she flinched violently, then went still, her head bowed. I stepped closer, trying to see what was happening to her. Suddenly, Beth shrieked, “Stay away from me!” and started frantically grabbing whatever was nearby and throwing it at me. I had no time to dodge. Something heavy struck my forehead. A sharp, searing pain, and then warm blood was streaming down my face. Peter immediately shielded Beth, roaring at me, “Get out! Don’t you come near her!” I took a deep breath, pressed a hand to the gushing wound, and walked out of the room. Through the glass window, I saw Peter gently applying ointment to Beth’s hands. The others were comforting her, telling her the “bad woman” was gone. I turned away and found a nurse, asking for bandages. Seeing the blood covering my face, she was horrified and rushed me to get stitches. While my wound was being treated, Peter found me. He froze for a second when he saw the gauze on my forehead. “Beth’s not stable. She didn’t mean it. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m not going to argue with a patient. You, on the other hand… it must be exhausting taking care of her.” He blinked, thrown off. He had clearly been prepared for a fight. Now, he was speechless. “You… it’s good that you understand. Does it still hurt? Is it bad?” He reached out to check the wound, but I flinched back, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air, then fell limply to his side. Before he could speak, I said, “What happened to Beth, it wasn’t my doing.” He immediately shot back, “The thugs who harassed her identified you! Who else could it be? Are you saying she scared herself?” I was silent. “If that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” “I came here because I need to talk to you. We need to break…” Before I could finish, Leah ran up, panting. “It’s bad! Beth woke up, and when she didn’t see you, she had a complete breakdown!” Without a moment’s hesitation, without another word, Peter turned and sprinted back toward Beth’s room. I watched him go, and in my heart, I said goodbye. In nine days, I would have my final memory-erasure treatment. Then I would forget everything. I turned and walked away, leaving behind a decade of my life, leaving behind all the pain and turmoil. But I hadn’t even made it out of the hospital when someone grabbed me from behind. Before I could struggle, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my head, and everything went dark.

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After final exams, Hannah, my childhood friend and our class valedictorian, posted a picture on her social media of two hands clasped together, seemingly announcing a new relationship. A minute later, I posted a picture of two plane tickets: [Ready for takeoff, so excited!] Our classmates showered both posts with likes. The class group chat lit up: [Congrats @Leo @Hannah, the happy couple finally makes it official!] [We all knew you two were a thing, why deny it?] [Finals are over, so you’re finally going public. Nice.] Jason, the class hunk, quickly tried to clear the air: [That was from a dare Hannah lost last night. She had to post it. When did it become a relationship announcement?] The chat exploded. [Wait, so it’s not a real thing?] [What’s going on? Even if Hannah’s post was a dare, what about Leo’s?] My childhood friend, not missing a beat, typed a message in the group: [@Leo, what’s this? Done with the silent treatment? Thought you were playing hard to get?!] Then, another message popped up, this one from the school beauty: [Leo’s exhausted and fast asleep right now. Whatever it is, you can talk to him when he wakes up.] 1 After final exams, once Ivy and I had our projected scores, we went ahead with our planned trip to Utah. As we settled into our seats on the plane, I quickly made a post on my socials: [Ready for takeoff, so excited.] I attached a photo of our two plane tickets, but I blurred out my name and Ivy’s. The comments started rolling in almost instantly. [Is this a hard launch?!] [A trip together, so sweet!] [Whoa, relationship reveal out of nowhere.] I was a little confused. Ivy and I had only started dating after exams, and I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t think we’d been obvious enough in class for anyone to notice. “What’s wrong?” Ivy asked from the seat next to me, noticing my expression. I turned to her. “Did you tell anyone we’re dating?” “Dude, as if,” she said, looking completely baffled. “You think I’d do that?” I knew she wouldn’t lie. Our whole relationship had been an accident, really. Ivy was a transfer student who had joined our class in our final year. She was strikingly beautiful with a bold personality, and she immediately captured the attention of every guy in school. I’d personally seen her tear up a love letter right in front of the guy who gave it to her. It was rude, and I figured we’d never have anything to do with each other. Then, by some twist of fate, she became my deskmate. “So,” Ivy asked, her voice tentative, her eyes full of hope, “are we allowed to go public now?” I’d never planned on deliberately hiding it. But our final year was too important to mess around, so we had agreed to wait until after the big exams to officially be together. Before that, no hints, no letting teachers or classmates know, and absolutely no letting our feelings affect our grades. Ivy had agreed without a second’s hesitation. Just as I was about to nod, I saw a new message pop up in the class group chat: [Congrats @Leo @Hannah, the happy couple finally makes it official!] [We all knew you two were a thing, why deny it?] [Finals are over, so you’re finally going public. Nice.] I froze. So they thought I was with Hannah. Thinking about it, the misunderstanding wasn’t that surprising. We were childhood friends, practically grew up together. I started typing a reply to clear things up. But Jason, the class hunk, beat me to it: [That was from a dare Hannah lost last night. She had to post it. When did it become a relationship announcement?] The chat went wild. [Wait, so it’s not a real thing?] [What’s going on? Even if Hannah’s post was a dare, what about Leo’s?] What about my post? I quickly switched apps and checked Hannah’s feed. There it was: a picture of two hands clasped. And my post with the plane tickets had gone up just a second after hers. No wonder. I had been thinking my classmates were psychic, guessing a relationship from two plane tickets. I went back to the group chat and started typing: [You guys misunderstood…] Before I could finish, Hannah herself sent a message: [@Leo, what’s this? Done with the silent treatment? Thought you were playing hard to get?!] [You knew I wanted to go to Utah, so you secretly bought me tickets? Trying to force me to go on a trip with you? smirks] [How pathetic!] 2 I stared at Hannah’s messages, a heavy silence falling over me. Our parents were close, so Hannah and I had been inseparable since we were kids. Our grades were similar, so we’d been in the same class since kindergarten. We walked to and from school together. We ate lunch together. Hannah’s mom was a great cook, and knowing I loved her food, she always had Hannah bring extra for me. Our classmates would tease her, “Bringing lunch for your hubby again?” Hannah never denied it. Our parents joked about it too, saying we’d get married when we grew up. For a while, I actually believed them. Until the New Year’s Eve party in our junior year. I heard Hannah talking with some of her friends. I had just finished my piano solo and was rushing to find her. As I got closer, I heard her familiar voice talking about me. “Leo? Oh, he’s like a sister to me.” “Leo is so gentle and polite,” one of her friends laughed. “He doesn’t seem like a ‘sister’ at all.” “That’s just what he’s like in front of you guys,” Hannah said dismissively. “You haven’t seen him at home. He’s a total slob. Gross.” Then she laughed. “Honestly, I’m more into guys like Jason.” I followed her gaze and saw Jason on stage, performing a contemporary dance routine. The stage lights made his skin glow, his movements fluid and powerful. It hurt, but after that night, I started to let go of my feelings for Hannah. Then, during our senior year, Jason was accused of cheating on the midterm exams. The teacher hauled him into the office and chewed him out. When he came back to class, his eyes were red and swollen. He walked right up to my desk. “Leo, just because I beat your English score this one time, you didn’t have to report me for cheating!” I was completely blindsided. Before I could even process what was happening, Hannah, who was sitting next to me, exploded. “Leo, why would you report Jason for cheating? Are you that petty? You just can’t stand to see someone do better than you, can you?!” “When did I ever report him?!” I fired back. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?!” she pressed. “You’ve told me yourself that Jason isn’t smart enough, that all he can do is memorize, that he could never beat you! Now that he’s caught up through hard work, you accuse him of cheating?!” I was speechless. I’d never said he wasn’t smart. I’d pointed out that his study methods weren’t efficient, trying to be helpful. I never imagined it would be twisted into this. “Apologize to Jason!” Hannah commanded, giving me no room to explain. “I didn’t do it. Why should I apologize?” “Still playing tough, huh?” she sneered, her face flushed with anger. “I. Did. Not. Do. It,” I said, my voice firm. “If you don’t apologize, I’m moving my seat. Right now,” she threatened. We had been deskmates all through high school. Teachers had suspected we were dating, but since our grades were always at the top of the class, they’d turned a blind eye. “Fine by me,” I said coolly. Good. If we weren’t sitting together, I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. I wouldn’t have to watch Jason come over to our desk a dozen times a day to ask Hannah for help, their heads getting closer and closer each time. “Are you sure?!” she demanded. I just lowered my head and went back to my work, ignoring her. Without another word, Hannah packed up her books and moved. A classmate tried to play peacemaker. “Hannah, come on. This is going to be so awkward for Leo.” “Awkward? He brought this on himself,” she scoffed. “Besides, who else would even want to be his deskmate?” The words were barely out of her mouth when Ivy stood up, grabbed her backpack, and moved to the empty seat beside me. Everyone stared at her. Including Hannah. “Figured I’d sit next to the top student, maybe some of it will rub off,” Ivy said, then looked at Hannah. “Aren’t you leaving?” 3 The group chat was still buzzing. A classmate tried to reason with Hannah: [@Hannah, come on, that was ages ago. Your childhood sweetheart is making a move, stop playing hard to get.] [Besides, it was cleared up later. It wasn’t Leo who reported him.] Not long after the incident, the teacher had let it slip that someone else had reported Jason. But Hannah never admitted she was wrong. She never thought Jason owed me an apology either. Instead, she’d loudly told her friends, right in front of me, “I can’t stand people who can’t let things go. He wants to hold a grudge? Fine. Let’s see how long he can keep it up.” A friend had warned her, “Aren’t you worried he’ll fall for someone else? Ivy seems pretty interested in him lately.” “Tsk,” Hannah had laughed, full of scorn. “I know him better than anyone. He would never fall for a girl like Ivy.” She probably thought I was only into her type. The truth is, after so many years, we both knew perfectly well whether there were any real feelings between us. She must have known I liked her. I typed out a new message and sent it: [@Hannah, don’t worry, I won’t force you. I already have a travel partner.] I took Ivy’s hand, lacing our fingers together. I snapped a picture and posted that too. Just as I hit send, the flight attendant announced that we were taking off and that all phones needed to be in airplane mode. I quickly complied, not really thinking about the fallout in the group chat. I was just setting the record straight. The flight to Salt Lake City was over three hours long. As soon as we landed, the altitude sickness hit me hard. I felt awful. Ivy took me straight to the hotel to rest. I collapsed onto the bed, completely drained, and didn’t even think about looking at my phone. I had no idea that the class chat had descended into chaos, or that my phone was blowing up. By the time I felt somewhat human again, it was nine in the evening. Ivy was worried about me going out, so she ordered takeout and we ate in the hotel room. As we were eating, she mentioned casually, “Your phone was going crazy while you were sleeping. I put it on silent.” I nodded, not really concerned. She paused, then added with a mischievous grin, “There were a lot of messages. I think Hannah kind of lost it.” “What?” I was surprised. “Finish eating, then you can see for yourself,” she said, her eyes twinkling. After dinner, Ivy cleared away the food containers while I stretched out on the sofa and finally opened my phone. 36 missed calls, all from Hannah. 99+ notifications from the class group chat. I started scrolling from the first unread message. [What does he mean? The plane tickets Leo posted aren’t for a trip with Hannah?] [So, Leo’s girlfriend ISN’T Hannah?!] [@Leo, what is going on?] [@Hannah, you need to explain!] Hannah had replied: [What’s there to explain? Leo’s still playing games. eye roll emoji] [But Leo posted a real picture of the tickets. It looks legit,] a classmate pointed out. Others chimed in: [Yeah, Leo doesn’t seem like the type to pull a prank like this.] Hannah shot back: [Even a cornered dog will bite! He’s just trying to get a reaction because I’ve been ignoring him.] 4 The chat quieted down for a bit after that. Everyone was probably waiting to see how the drama would unfold. A little while later, Jason sent a message: [@Leo, is it really that hard to just apologize to Hannah? Pushing her away like this isn’t going to help.] Hannah immediately quoted his message: [You get it.] She even added a thumbs-up emoji. Jason continued: [I’m just being honest, and maybe it’s harsh, but girls don’t like guys who are too stubborn.] Hannah agreed: [Girls can’t stand guys who are pretentious, full of themselves, and stubborn!] [Don’t be so hard on him, Hannah,] Jason typed, playing the good guy. [He’s got his pride. You’re making it impossible for him to even show his face in the chat.] Hannah was unmoved: [He brought it on himself.] The two of them went back and forth, dominating the conversation. Finally, someone who must have been fed up with it wrote: [You two seem pretty compatible. Maybe it’s not so crazy that Leo is on a trip with someone else.] [What are you talking about?!] Hannah seemed to snap. [Leo is just trying to make me jealous! The picture and the tickets are photoshopped! He would never go on a trip with another girl!] [That’s just your guess. Your side of the story,] the classmate replied. Hannah fired off a series of messages: [First of all, Leo hasn’t said a single word in this chat. What does that tell you? He feels guilty.] [Second, the names on the tickets are blurred out. It’s obviously just some picture he found online and edited. And he only posted the hand-holding picture after he saw mine.] [And finally, don’t you dare question me. I know Leo better than any of you!] After that outburst, everyone went quiet. But then, one classmate seemed to have noticed something: [I just looked closely at the time on Leo’s tickets. If he’s not lying, he should be on a plane right now and can’t reply.] That stirred things up again: [OMG, you’re right. I see it too.] [So he’s not ignoring us, he just can’t reply.] Hannah was sarcastic: [He’s really committed to the act, isn’t he? @Leo, you’re a great actor.] The classmate still wasn’t convinced: [I still don’t think Leo would do something like this on purpose.] [You wanna bet?] Hannah was clearly getting heated. [If Leo is really on a trip with another girl, I’ll call you Mom!] The classmate didn’t reply. Everyone could tell Hannah was genuinely angry. The chat fell silent. Until, three hours later. Hannah sent another message: [@Leo, you should be off the plane by now, right? Still not talking?] By then, I must have turned my phone back on. But I’d only had time for a quick call to my parents to let them know I’d landed safely before I was dealing with the altitude sickness. Replying to the group chat was the last thing on my mind. My silence seemed to fuel Hannah’s confidence. [See, everyone? It has nothing to do with him being on a plane. He just feels guilty!!] 5 None of the other classmates said anything. Only Jason replied to her: [Everyone gets it now. You don’t have to keep going on about it. Think how awkward this is for Leo.] [You’re still defending him? After he tried to sabotage you?] Hannah wrote, acting indignant on Jason’s behalf. Jason replied virtuously: [I can’t stand it when people play dirty. We should all support each other.] [You’re too nice. Some people don’t think that way.] [I can’t speak for anyone else, but that’s just who I am.] Hannah and Jason continued their little performance. Then, Hannah seemed to lose her patience completely: [@Leo, are you done with this charade? How long are you going to keep this up?!] At that point, I saw that Ivy had finally chimed in, probably unable to stand it any longer: [Leo’s exhausted and fast asleep right now. Whatever it is, you can talk to him when he wakes up.] Then, she posted a picture. It was a photo of my back as I slept. The mole on the back of my neck, visible because of my buzz cut, was something many of our classmates would recognize. Ivy added: [@Hannah, just in case you don’t believe me, here’s our location.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385845”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I’m a billionaire’s daughter, born with a rare blood type. To ensure my safety, my parents went to a forgotten, impoverished corner of the country and found a child with the same blood type to be my living blood bank. As a form of compensation, they adopted her. But when I returned home today after three years on a study abroad program, I found the two older brothers who had always doted on me throwing a lavish birthday party for that adopted girl, Kathy. In front of all their guests, they announced that Kathy was the true heiress of the Sterling family. And I was nothing more than her backup. Kathy wanted my bedroom for an art studio, so they tossed my belongings into the housekeeper’s quarters. Kathy wanted shares in the company, so they took the transfer agreement my father had prepared for me and handed it straight to her. And because Kathy had a crush on my fiancé, the childhood betrothal that had been mine was suddenly hers. In my past life, I was tormented to death, my loyalty to my family stopping me from fighting back. Now, reborn, I want to burn every single one of them to the ground. Through the glittering chaos of the ballroom, I saw Kathy, the center of a fawning circle. I heard them whispering about how the adopted girl—me—couldn’t hold a candle to her. That’s when I moved. I lunged forward and ripped the brilliant pink diamond necklace from her throat. “This is ‘The One,’” I snarled, my voice cutting through the music. “A one-of-a-kind piece Dad bought at auction for my birthday. Who the hell do you think you are, an orphan from the sticks, parading around with stolen goods? Have you no shame?” The room fell silent. Then, the silence shattered into a wave of mockery. “Is Aria Sterling dreaming? Causing a scene at her own sister’s birthday party.” “She’s just desperate for attention. You can take the girl out of the gutter, but you can’t take the gutter out of the girl.” My brothers, Ethan and Mason, rushed over, instinctively forming a protective wall around Kathy. She clutched her neck, her eyes welling up with perfectly-timed tears. Ethan, my eldest brother, immediately shed his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Someone get the first-aid kit!” he yelled, his voice laced with panic, as if the faint red mark on her neck was a mortal wound. Mason shoved me hard, his face contorted with fury. “Aria, are you insane? How dare you hurt your sister!” “Dad bought that necklace for his real daughter!” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. “Is that you? Don’t be pathetic. Give it back.” I clenched my fist around the necklace, the sharp facets of the diamonds digging into my palm. A cold smile spread across my face. “His real daughter? So she’s real, and I’m what, a fake? Mason, did you leave your brain at the door? You can’t even recognize your own sister. I dare you to say that to Dad’s face.” Mason’s face turned a blotchy purple, but Kathy gently held him back. She sighed, a mask of saintly patience. “It’s alright, Mason. Don’t be angry with her. She grew up in a rough place, she never learned any manners. It’s my fault, really. As her older sister, I should have guided her better.” She cast a sorrowful look around the room. “If it weren’t for my rare blood type, Mom and Dad would never have felt forced to bring her here. It’s my body that’s the problem. I should be the one to be more patient with her.” I almost laughed out loud. The same old act. In my last life, I was bled dry by a thousand of Kathy’s paper cuts. She was a master of this game—saying things that sounded like she was defending me, while actually painting me as trash and herself as a martyr. The truth? She was so dim-witted the family had to pull strings just to get her into a community college. As expected, the guests lapped it up. “Kathy is a true Sterling,” someone murmured. “So kind and graceful. Not like some people who think a few feathers make them a swan.” “Exactly! An orphan girl from the middle of nowhere. The Sterlings give her everything, and she’s still ungrateful enough to steal from the real heiress. The nerve!” Kathy shook her head, a look of weary resignation on her face. “It’s okay if I’m wronged. Please, don’t blame my sister. Coming from such a desolate place, her jealousy is understandable. I’ll do my best to guide her onto the right path.” Her performance of magnanimity had its intended effect. Sympathy rippled through the crowd. “Miss Sterling, you’re far too kind.” “That’s right. You coddle her, but a snake in the grass will always bite the hand that feeds it.” Ethan’s gaze hardened as he stared at the necklace in my hand. His voice was cold steel. “Give it to me. Now.” My vision swam with red. “Dad gave ‘The One’ to me.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Aria, we brought you into this family, but not so you could bully my real sister. If you can’t accept your place as the adopted one, then get the hell out of this house.” I couldn’t believe it. These words were coming from the brother who used to carry me on his shoulders, who swore he’d protect me from everything. The chill that seeped into my bones wasn’t from the air conditioning. A harsh laugh escaped my lips. “You don’t have the authority to kick me out of this house. And no one is taking this necklace today.” That was it for Mason. He whirled on the household staff. “Are you all blind?! You’re just going to stand there and watch this little thief steal from Miss Kathy? Get it back from her!” The head housekeeper, Mrs. Davison, rolled up her sleeves and stepped forward. I’d seen her exchanging glances with Kathy earlier. I knew she’d already been bought. I grabbed a champagne bottle from a nearby table and smashed it against the edge of the dessert buffet. I held the jagged neck out in front of me. “I’d like to see you try! You’d better think long and hard about who the real Miss Sterling is in this house. My parents sign your paychecks. Anyone who touches me today will be out on the street tomorrow.” My ferocity stunned them. Many of them had worked for our family for years; they knew me. They froze, uncertainty clouding their faces. But Mrs. Davison lunged. She snatched the necklace from my grasp and scurried over to Kathy, presenting it like a trophy. “Miss Kathy, I’m an old servant in this house. I’ve watched you grow up. No one can impersonate you, and no one can take what is yours. This necklace was made for you.” I drove my foot into the back of her knee. “You work for my family! Who gave you the right to steal from me? What, did Kathy offer you more than my parents pay you?” Mrs. Davison’s eyes darted away, guilt written all over her face. Kathy rushed to her side, shielding the housekeeper. “Aria, if you’re angry, take it out on me! Why are you bullying Mrs. Davison? She’s an old woman! She only said those things because she’s tired of seeing you steal my things.” Her voice dripped with false sympathy. “I know you’ve been jealous of this pink diamond necklace ever since Dad bought it for my birthday. I know you’ve snuck into my room to wear it when I wasn’t home. I can forgive all of that. Just promise you won’t hurt Mrs. Davison again, and you can have the necklace. I’ll give it to you.” As she finished, a single, perfect tear rolled down her cheek. I pointed at my own chest in disbelief. Me? Jealous? I was a Sterling heiress. Jealous of a girl from the backwoods? Jealous of her two-faced, manipulative games? The thought was so disgusting it made me want to vomit. But the guests were completely taken in. “She has some nerve. A few days of living the good life and she thinks she’s a real heiress, even starts abusing the staff. She should take a good long look in the mirror.” “Aria is just vicious. A classic case of biting the hand that feeds you.” “Poor Miss Kathy. The real lady of the house, being bullied by some stray.” “She ruined a beautiful birthday party. What a curse.” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Haven’t you made enough of a scene? Do you want to drag the Sterling family name through the mud completely?” His voice dropped, filled with a chilling finality. “The reason this necklace is called ‘The One’ is because Dad wanted to announce to the world that Kathy is his one and only daughter.” “Have we been so good to you all these years that you’ve forgotten what you really are?” Mason chimed in. “We should just send her back to that hellhole she came from. With our family’s resources, it wouldn’t be hard to find another donor with Kathy’s blood type.” I stared at the two brothers who had been my protectors, my heroes, my entire childhood. An arctic cold spread through my veins. My parents had spent a fortune finding several children with my blood type, and they’d let me choose which one to bring home. But after seeing the photos, Ethan and Mason had both insisted on Kathy. At the time, I didn’t care. I just needed someone to grow up with, someone to be there in case of an emergency. It could have been anyone. Looking back, their reaction was bizarre. Two brothers with completely different personalities, instantly agreeing on the same girl. In my past life, they’d used a business trip, just like this one, to throw this very party for Kathy. They’d publicly declared her the true heiress and me the walking blood bank. Humiliated and slandered, I’d been plied with a bottle of hard liquor at Kathy’s suggestion and locked in the pitch-black cellar. By the time my parents returned, my body, dead from a severe allergic reaction to the alcohol, had already begun to decompose. The old me, faced with such betrayal from the brothers I adored, would have been a sobbing, incoherent mess, unable to defend myself. But not this time. I stood tall, my back ramrod straight. “You two know perfectly well who the real Sterling heiress is. You think you can get away with bullying me like this in front of everyone? Let’s see how you explain this to Mom and Dad when they get back!” My defiance, even after being so thoroughly condemned, gave some of the smarter guests pause. “Could it be… Aria actually is the real heiress?” “You know, now that you mention it, she’s dressed simply, but she does resemble Mrs. Sterling…” Hearing the tide of opinion begin to shift, a flicker of panic crossed Kathy’s face. She bit her lip, her voice choked with manufactured pain. “Aria, I already said you could have the necklace. Why are you still doing this? You know today is my birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me on purpose?” She threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, fine! As long as you stop disgracing the family, as long as you stop embarrassing Mom, Dad, and my brothers, I’ll admit it. You’re the real Sterling heiress, and I’m just the adopted girl. Is that what you want to hear? Are you satisfied now?” With that, she turned to the crowd and bowed deeply. “I apologize to all our esteemed guests. Because of me, your evening has been ruined. An adopted girl like me doesn’t deserve such a wonderful birthday party. I am truly sorry.” She wept, tears streaming down her face, the perfect picture of a noble victim, sacrificing her own reputation for the sake of her family, cornered by a thankless viper. The guests erupted in fury. “Aria, the Sterlings feed you, clothe you, and you push your benefactor to this point? You should be afraid of divine retribution!” “Even an animal has more gratitude than you!” “What did the Sterlings ever do to deserve a parasite like you?” “Apologize! Apologize to Miss Kathy right now!” As the chorus of condemnation reached a fever pitch, a tall figure stepped out from the crowd. It was Carter Vance, the man I’d been betrothed to since childhood. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair slicked back. He wasn’t bad-looking, but the words that came out of his mouth were utterly repulsive. “Aria, I know you’re only pretending to be the true heiress because you’re desperately in love with me.” He shook his head, a look of profound disappointment on his face. “But today, you’ve gone too far.” He saw Kathy’s tear-streaked face and his heart clearly melted. He made his stance clear for everyone to hear. “The only person I have ever loved is Kathy. The only woman I will ever marry is Kathy. You can chase me until the end of time, and I will never give you a second glance.” He sneered at me. “I’ve seen women like you before. Greedy, manipulative, bullies to the weak. You want to latch onto me and become Mrs. Vance? Take a look at yourself. You’re acting like a common shrew. Do you think you’re worthy?” “My wife,” he declared, “should be kind and generous, like Kathy.” He gently took out a handkerchief and dabbed at Kathy’s tears. I looked up and saw the unmistakable glint of triumph in her eyes, even as she put on a show of magnanimity. “Carter, don’t say that about my sister,” she murmured. “She’s just a little jealous, a little malicious, a little short-sighted, a little prone to twisting the truth, and she lives in a fantasy world where she’s the real heiress. Other than that, she has no bad intentions.” There are moments when you’re so speechless, all you can do is laugh. Carter Vance. His family’s minor fortune was built on the scraps my family let fall from our table. And he was accusing me of being a gold digger? I wasn’t that desperate, and I certainly wasn’t that stupid. A perfect pair of deluded clowns. Before I could respond, Kathy’s friends started in with their jeers. “Look at the expression on her face. You’re just dying of jealousy, aren’t you, Aria? Mr. Vance himself has declared he’ll only marry Kathy. You’re just a pathetic sideshow. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from.” Someone else snickered. “You don’t think she still believes she’s the heiress, still dreams of marrying Mr. Vance, do you?” “Oh my god, throwing herself at him like that. It’s so shameless.” Kathy chose that moment to deliver the killing blow, her voice dripping with pity. “Please, try to understand. I was born lucky. She was born in the wilderness, without parents, sold by her relatives into a forced marriage with a man in his sixties. She’s starved for affection, which is why she acts out like this. We should show more compassion for someone with such psychological trauma.” In my twenty-odd years, I had never encountered such a stunning level of shamelessness. Everything she had just described was her own life story. If my parents hadn’t found and adopted her when they did, she’d already have a couple of kids with that sixty-year-old geezer by now. “Kathy, it sounds like you’re the one with psychological trauma,” I shot back, my voice shaking with rage. “If I had known you were this kind of person, I would have begged my parents to leave you to rot with that old man for the rest of your life.” Kathy’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “I knew it,” she sobbed. “I knew you’d turn it back on me. Does it make you happy to blame me for everything bad that’s ever happened? Fine. Let’s say it’s all true. Does that make you feel better? Will you stop having these episodes and scaring our guests now?” Ethan had had enough. “Aria, that’s it! This family would be better off raising a dog than raising you!” He motioned for Mason to go to the study and retrieve a document. When Mason returned with a share transfer agreement and I saw Kathy’s name written on it, it felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. A collective gasp went through the room. It was for sixty percent of Sterling Corp.’s shares. Enough to give someone controlling interest in the entire company. Before I left for my study abroad program, my father had shown me that very document, with my name on it. He’d told me it would be my birthday present when I returned. My father would never lie to me. Which meant Ethan and Mason had. “Read it and weep,” Ethan said, shoving the document into my face. “It’s Dad’s signature and his official seal, in black and white. If you were the real heiress, why wouldn’t your name be on it?” He threw the papers at my face, unafraid that I might tear them up. If I did, in front of all these people, it would be an admission of guilt. The signature was my father’s. The seal was the one he kept locked in his safe. My vision went dark. A terrifying thought clawed at my mind: had these two soulless monsters done something to my father? I immediately dismissed it. I had just spoken to Mom and Dad on the phone before coming home. They said they’d be back tomorrow. Kathy sidled up to me, a smug, venomous smile on her face. “My dear sister, you can try to steal my identity all you want, but a fake can never be real. It’s just your bad luck to have been born in the middle of nowhere.” “But don’t you worry,” she cooed. “Since you’re my living blood bank, and I’ve been your sister for all these years, I’ll take good care of you.” She waved over a short, overweight man from across the room. The man rubbed his hands together and lurched toward me with a foolish grin. I dodged out of his way just in time. It was Mrs. Davison’s son, a man with the mental capacity of a five-year-old. The sight of the drool glistening on his chin made my stomach turn. Ethan’s voice cut through my revulsion. “What are you dodging for? You’re about to marry him. He’s going to be your husband. It’s not like letting him hug you will kill you.” Mrs. Davison’s eyes lit up with glee. I stared at my brother, my mind reeling. Had I heard him correctly, or had he lost his mind? Mason shoved me impatiently. “You’re a ruined girl from the backwoods who’s already been sullied by a sixty-year-old man. You’re lucky this simpleton will even have you. Kathy is so kind-hearted, she’s even letting you use her birthday party as your wedding celebration. We’re your brothers, and we’re making this decision for you. You’re getting married, right now. After you’re married, if you learn to behave, we might still treat you like a sister.” Kathy giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Aria, you hit Mrs. Davison earlier, and she hasn’t even held it against you. Why don’t you kneel and serve her a cup of tea as her new daughter-in-law? Then we can all move on. If you give her a healthy grandson soon, I’m sure a nice woman like her will treat you well.” “Yes, yes!” the housekeeper cackled. “Serve the tea, and you’ll be my daughter-in-law. You can sleep with my son tonight!” Rage, white-hot and blinding, surged through me. I kicked out, sending Mrs. Davison sprawling to the floor, where she began to wail and cry. My face was a cold mask. “You dare touch me, and my parents will peel the skin from your bones when they get back.” She flinched, her wails instantly quieting to a whimper. “And you,” I said, turning to my brothers, my voice trembling with fury. “Ethan, Mason. If you go through with this today, I swear Mom and Dad will never forgive you.” The guests murmured amongst themselves, but no one stepped forward to help. “Well, at least she’ll still be living in the Sterling mansion. Since she’s Miss Kathy’s blood bank, they won’t treat her too badly.” “Exactly. She’s already been with a sixty-year-old. At least this one’s young. She’s actually trading up. What’s she complaining about?” Mason strode over and grabbed my arms, his grip like iron. “Which foot did you kick Mrs. Davison with? This one, right?” He kicked the back of my knee. The first time, I managed to stay standing through the searing pain. The second kick sent me crashing to the floor. I bit my lip, tasting blood, and struggled to get up. “Let go of me! I am the real Sterling heiress! Kathy is the imposter!” No one listened. I heard someone laugh and say my delusions were acting up again. Ethan’s hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Stealing Kathy’s things is one thing, but raising a hand to your own mother-in-law? As the eldest son of this family, it’s my duty to teach you some manners.” One pinned my shoulders while the other forced my head towards the floor. The simple-minded man lunged forward, his weight pressing me down, his drool-flecked voice chanting, “Bedtime, bedtime.” I couldn’t move. Tears of humiliation and despair streamed down my face. And just then, a familiar, furious voice roared from the entrance. “STOP! What in God’s name do you think you’re doing to my daughter?!”

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I was in my third month at the hospital when, in a rush, I accidentally sent a photo of my car meant for the dealership to my work group chat instead. The new intern, a sharp-tongued girl named Dabby, immediately called me out. “Dr. Hayes, why are you posting a picture of my car? Are you that desperate for clout?” Stunned, I asked if she was mistaken. It was my car. But she just spammed the chat with a series of photos and videos of herself driving a G-Wagon, her hand casually on the wheel, proving it was hers. Her messages dripped with condescension. “Some people are just shameless. They’ll do anything to feel important. You think posting one sneaky picture of a car makes you the new Mrs. Fuchs?” I frowned and turned to my husband, who was sitting beside me. “Is there a second Mrs. Fuchs I should know about?” 1 In my haste to get to work, I’d sent the photo to the group chat for the interns I was supervising. Before I could delete it, they saw it, and the chat exploded. “Whoa! A G-Wagon with a starlight headliner? The customization alone must have cost a fortune! Dr. Hayes is loaded!” “I had no idea our supervising doctor was a secret heiress! My apologies for ever thinking otherwise!” “Dr. Hayes, what do your parents do? That car must be worth half a million, easy.” Dozens of messages flooded in, all prying into my family’s business. A few of the male interns even slid into my DMs, asking me out to dinner. I sighed. “I’m not an heiress,” I typed back. “It was just a birthday gift from my husband. Now, can we please focus on work…” Before I could finish, the new intern, Dabby, jumped in. “Dr. Hayes, why are you posting a picture of my car? Are you that jealous you have to leech off my life for attention?” “‘A gift from your husband’? Don’t tell me you’re trying to pass yourself off as some billionaire’s wife.” “I knew I shouldn’t have driven it to the hospital. Now I have people like you taking pictures of it to flex online. So tacky.” The barrage of accusations left me speechless. “Are you talking to me?” I typed, confused. “Dabby, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Maybe our cars just look similar?” She went silent for a few seconds, then began flooding the chat with selfies in and around the G-Wagon, including videos of her behind the wheel. Her tone grew even more mocking. “This G-Wagon, with this starlight headliner, is a one-of-a-kind custom job. How could a broke doctor like you possibly have one that looks ‘similar’?” “You snap one photo of my car and claim it’s yours? Why don’t you go take a selfie in front of the White House and claim you own that, too?” Her blatant ridicule instantly swayed the other interns. Their tone shifted on a dime. “Uh, Dr. Hayes, this is a little cringe… So awkward.” “It’s okay if you don’t have a nice car. No one would’ve said anything. But this is just… low. And getting called out by Dabby like this? Yikes.” “Wow, I didn’t know we had such a poser at this hospital. And she’s supposed to be teaching us? Hope she doesn’t teach us all how to be pathological liars, lmao.” Another flood of snide comments followed. Someone even tagged me, telling me to apologize to Dabby. I frowned and tagged her directly. “What is going on? Why are you in my car? And when did you take those videos?” I had helped design the starlight headliner myself. It was unique. The second I saw her pictures, I knew it was my car. Dabby shot back: Have you no shame? Still trying to lie your way out of this? Do I have to drive the car right up to you and rub your face in it before you finally give up? “If it’s really your car,” I typed, “tell me what color the interior is right now.” “Gray,” I said to myself, confident. I’d just had the dealership change it a few days ago. A second later, Dabby posted a new selfie from inside the car. The interior was now a vibrant, custom pink. She laughed triumphantly in the chat. “Spoken like a true wannabe! You’re caught! The interior was gray when you took your little spy photo, but I had it changed to pink yesterday!” “What’s wrong? Couldn’t steal a new picture in time, Dr. Poser?” That sealed it for the rest of the group. They were convinced the car was Dabby’s and began dogpiling on me. “She acts so aloof, but she’s just as obsessed with status as anyone. We’re so unlucky to have her as our supervisor.” “Seriously. Seeing someone else’s luxury car and trying to pass it off as your own? Getting exposed like this is just pathetic.” “She lies so easily. Makes you wonder if her academic achievements are fake, too. You hear about female doctors sleeping their way to the top, trading favors with old professors to get published…” The rumors grew wilder, escalating into outright slander. I was furious and about to fire back when a colleague burst in. There was an emergency surgery, and they needed me immediately. There was no time to deal with a bunch of interns. I dropped my phone and ran. 2 It was late afternoon by the time I scrubbed out of surgery. As I walked through the main lobby, a delivery guy came in carrying a massive bouquet of yellow roses. “I have a delivery for a Mrs. Fuchs!” he called out. “From a Mr. Fuchs!” A smile tugged at my lips. My husband, Julian, and I had a small argument that morning as I was leaving. We’d been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But yellow roses were his way of apologizing. Trying to hide my grin, I stepped forward. “Those are for me. I’m Mrs. Van—” “Don’t you touch my flowers!” Before I could take the bouquet, Dabby darted out from across the lobby, shoved me aside, and glared at me with pure contempt. “Ava, do you have any self-respect? First, you try to claim my car, and now you’re trying to steal my flowers? Have you no shame?” I stumbled back, the last of my patience evaporating. “Are you out of your mind?” I snapped. “Those are my flowers!” “Hahahaha!” The little clique of interns standing with Dabby burst out laughing. “Dr. Hayes, you really need to give up the act,” one of them sneered. “A bouquet this huge? Only a man from a family like Dabby’s fiancé could afford this. Who do you think would send something like this to a nobody like you?” “Exactly! I’ve never seen someone so desperate. It’s physically painful to watch you embarrass yourself over a bunch of flowers!” “You’re lucky Dabby is so classy and forgiving. If it were me, I’d have called security by now!” Dabby, meanwhile, put on a show of blushing modesty. “Oh, stop it, you guys! I told you I wanted to keep my identity a secret. You weren’t supposed to tell everyone!” She preened under their fawning. “My fiancé is the heir to a massive fortune. His family is incredibly powerful. So many people are trying to get his attention, and I just don’t want to deal with all that drama every day.” The others cooed, showering her with praise and envious looks. I was so dumbfounded by their performance I could barely think straight. “Your amazing fiancé lets you drive other people’s cars and steal other people’s flowers?” I scoffed. “And if you’re such a wealthy heiress, why are you even working as an intern? Shouldn’t you be at home, lounging by a pool?” “It’s called being self-sufficient! Something you wouldn’t understand!” Dabby shot back, her face flushing, clearly hitting a nerve. “I could say my fiancé’s name and it would blow your mind. He’s the heir to the Fuchs Corporation!” I blinked, processing what she’d just said. I frowned. “You don’t mean… Julian Fuchs, do you?” “Excuse me? You don’t get to use his first name!” Dabby snapped, her eyes flashing with arrogance. I was completely baffled. “Did Julian Fuchs marry you in your dreams?” “How dare you insult me?” Her face twisted in rage. “My fiancé will not let you get away with this—” I held up a hand, cutting her off. “I don’t know about your fiancé, but I can tell you this: the real Julian Fuchs will not let you get away with parading around town, impersonating his wife.” I’d never seen someone so bold as to impersonate me, to my face. It was a new level of audacity. Dabby’s face turned crimson. “How dare you say I’m an imposter? I am Julian Fuchs’s wife!” “Prove it,” I said, my gaze steady. “Talk is cheap. Why should I believe you’re Mrs. Fuchs?” “I’ll… I’ll call my fiancé right now! I’ll have him come down here and deal with you!” She whipped out her phone and dialed, her voice instantly turning sugary sweet. “Honey, you have to come to the hospital! There’s this crazy bitch here who doesn’t believe who you are, and she won’t stop bullying me…” A man’s voice, recognizably Julian’s, came through the speaker. “Who has the nerve to bully Julian Fuchs’s woman? I’m on my way.” Hearing this, Dabby’s confidence surged. She shot a triumphant look at the crowd. “Nobody leave! Just you wait until my fiancé gets here. He’s going to destroy this pathetic liar!” I stared at her, utterly bewildered by her conviction. If her husband was Julian Fuchs, then who was mine? Taking my chance, I sent a quick text to my Julian, asking him to pick me up from the hospital. He replied almost instantly with a simple “OK.” That settled my nerves. In fact, I started to look forward to the coming showdown: The Real vs. Fake Julian Fuchs. 3 While we waited, Dabby grew more and more smug. She hugged the yellow roses to her chest and sneered at me. “Ava, I get it. You come from nothing, so you’re desperate to feel important. But I can’t just let you get away with slandering me like this.” “You’re going to get on your knees and apologize,” she declared. “And you’ll promise to never try to ride my coattails again. Otherwise, I’ll have my fiancé ruin you.” I almost laughed in her face. Before I could speak, her sycophants chimed in. “Dabby, you’re too kind! After all the lies she’s told about you, all you’re asking for is an apology!” “Ava, the heir to the Fuchs Corporation is not a man to be trifled with. You should take her offer and get on your knees now, before he gets here and decides to make a real example out of you.” “Seriously! I heard Mr. Fuchs is extremely private and hates public appearances. The fact that he’s coming here today just for Dabby shows how serious this is. Do you have any idea the trouble you’re in?” It was true that Julian disliked the spotlight, but that was just his personality. It was absurd that they were twisting it into another weapon to use against me. A cold smile touched my lips. “We’ll see who ruins who.” This woman was out there impersonating me, driving my car, even changing its interior. I needed to get to the bottom of it. I couldn’t let her tarnish my name any longer. Dabby snorted. “Keep up the tough act. You’ll be singing a different tune when you see what my fiancé can do.” Just as she spoke, a commotion erupted at the hospital entrance. The hospital director and other senior staff were rushing to greet someone. “Mr. Fuchs! What a delightful surprise! If you had told us you were coming, I would have met you at the door myself!” “Mr. Fuchs, those three million dollars in medical equipment you donated solved so many of our problems. The entire hospital is eternally grateful to you!” I looked over and, sure enough, it was Julian. He was striding towards us, his expression calm and unreadable. One of Dabby’s friends, Tina, was the first to run up to him, a fawning smile on her face. “Mr. Fuchs, you’re such a devoted husband. Coming here the second you heard your wife was in trouble.” “Look, Mrs. Fuchs has been waiting for you!” she said, gesturing dramatically toward Dabby. Julian glanced at Dabby, then his gaze found mine. He spoke in a low, intimate voice that cut through the silence. “Honey, come over here.” The entire lobby seemed to hold its breath. Everyone’s eyes swiveled to Dabby, filled with envy and excitement.

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1 On the eve of the National Robotics Competition, I smashed my meticulously designed robot and announced my withdrawal. Everyone said I was a fraud, terrified of being exposed. The internet forums exploded with mockery. Only Cole Jensen, the campus prodigy, offered a hollow defense: “I believe in Austin Kane’s talent. He’s the only one worthy of being my rival. Whatever he’s going through, I hope he returns to the competition and proves himself.” In my past life, my meticulously assembled robot turned out to be identical to his. No matter how I tried to prove he had plagiarized my work, he just played the magnanimous victim online. “It’s okay,” he wrote, “Austin can have this design. I can always build something better.” His fans cyberbullied me into oblivion. No one believed me. Fueled by a desperate need for vindication, I tried to build a new robot overnight. But a power supply in one of the components exploded, causing severe brain trauma. I was in the ICU by morning. The internet cheered, saying I got what I deserved. That same night, my girlfriend signed the form to take me off life support. Even as I died, I couldn’t understand it. How did he get my robot’s data? And how did my girlfriend end up in his arms? When I opened my eyes again, I was back. It was the day before the competition. … “Austin, this dynamic humanoid design is insane! We’re definitely taking first place in the competition this time!” My best friend Walt’s excited voice snapped me back to reality. I stared at the human-sized robot before me, a violent shiver running down my spine. “I’ll submit the data now, and then all we have to do is wait for the live demonstration tomorrow!” Walt said, already tapping away at the computer. “Wait!” I yelled, stopping him. “I have a better idea.” My hands trembled as I opened my own laptop and navigated to the competition portal. I found Cole Jensen’s submission: the robot’s parameters and a video demonstration. Identical to mine. Of course it was. “What the hell?” Walt gasped, leaning over my shoulder. “How is this possible? I checked his design this afternoon, and it was totally different from ours!” “That son of a bitch, where did he steal this from?” I clenched my jaw so hard it ached. In my past life, I’d also seen his completely different design that afternoon and paid it no mind. It wasn’t until thirty minutes before the submission deadline that I discovered he’d updated his entry to a perfect copy of mine. I’d frantically reported him to the organizers and posted my entire build process online as proof. But the organizers dismissed my claim, and Cole’s fans tore me to shreds. “Copycat Kane is at it again! He was always stealing Cole’s ideas, and now he’s trying to frame him? Shameless!” “Cole released his data first, idiot. How dare you try to claim his work as your own?” Buried under an avalanche of hate, I had stayed up all night modifying the robot, determined to prove them wrong at the competition. But somehow, Cole’s robot on stage the next day was, once again, a perfect match for my modified version. The crowd jeered at me, throwing water bottles. Defiant, I tried to activate my robot to showcase its unique dynamic systems, but it exploded on the spot. The blast sent me to the ICU. With his strongest competitor out of the way, Cole coasted to victory. He won the two-million-dollar prize and was taken on as a protégé by a pioneer in the field of robotics. His future was limitless. Meanwhile, I lay dying in a hospital bed. To add insult to injury, the competition officials announced that they’d found highly flammable and explosive materials in my robot’s wreckage. They concluded I’d been planning some kind of terrorist act and had become a victim of my own malice. But I knew. I had built that machine. There was nothing like that inside it. The university expelled me. The internet branded me a monster. They doxed my parents, sending funeral wreaths to their home and throwing paint on their door, telling them they deserved to die for raising such a demon. The night I was admitted to the hospital, my girlfriend signed the papers to end my life, telling the world I had succumbed to my injuries. The public celebrated. My parents, hearing of my death, went gray overnight. Drowned in grief, they took their own lives. My soul watched it all, trapped in a cage of rage, refusing to move on. And then, I woke up. Back on the day before it all went wrong. This time, I would find the truth. I would clear my name. And I would make Cole Jensen pay. 2 “Austin, we still have time to modify it!” Walt insisted, his face grim after seeing the organizers’ email dismissing our complaint against Cole. “This competition isn’t just about the two-million-dollar prize. The winner gets a mentorship with Dr. Aris Thorne. We can’t give up.” “I’ll do the modifications myself,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Walt, you keep arguing with the organizers. Stall them.” Reborn, I trusted no one. Not even my best friend. In my last life, my girlfriend, Sierra, had been by my side the entire time I worked on the robot. The memory of her, tucked under Cole’s arm after my death, was seared into my soul. She must have been the one who leaked the data. But she didn’t understand programming or advanced mechanics. Even if she gave him the blueprints, she couldn’t have accessed the core operational code. And Cole and I had been rivals since freshman year. I was his shadow; every idea I had, he somehow brought to life just a step ahead of me, earning me the nickname “Copycat Kane.” We avoided each other on campus like the plague. There was no way he could have seen my robot. So how was his operational code identical to mine? It was a puzzle I still couldn’t solve, even after being reborn. Thinking of Sierra sent a sharp pain through my chest. Why would she betray me? We were childhood sweethearts, practically engaged. At the most critical moment of my life, she had shoved me into the abyss. I slapped myself, hard, the sting forcing me back to the present. The robot. That was what mattered now. I worked with frantic speed, dismantling the machine, rewriting the code. I’d already designed an upgraded version, but the performance was unstable, so I had opted for the more conservative build for the competition. My intuition for mechanics and programming had always been my gift; I was confident even the base model could win. But there was no time for caution now. It was all or nothing. An hour later, I stared at the upgraded robot and let out a breath of relief. I had done this modification completely alone. Unless Cole was a god, there was no way he could know the new specs. I wiped the sweat from my brow and was about to submit the new data to the organizers when Walt burst back into the room. “Dude, Cole just updated his submission! Look at this!” My blood ran cold. I snatched the laptop from his hands. The video on the screen… “How is this possible?” I whispered. The robot in Cole’s updated video was a perfect replica of the one I had just finished modifying. I watched the fluid, lifelike movements on the screen, read the fawning comments from his fans, and felt the color drain from my face. I scrolled to Cole’s post on social media: “I felt my initial design was a winner, but there are so many brilliant minds at this competition. After careful consideration, I decided to upgrade my robot. Its performance isn’t stable, but if I can get some feedback from the judges, it’ll be worth it…” Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. The core of the upgrade was the programming data, a sequence of code that had come to me in dreams, a program I had treasured like a gift from the muses. No one else could possibly know it. Unless… could Cole have hired a top-tier hacker? Was he monitoring my every move through the network? A terrifying theory began to form in my mind. “Austin, what do we do now?” Walt asked, his voice shaking. “The forums are tearing you apart.” 3 I stared at my phone, at the torrent of hate from Cole’s fans. “LMAO, the copycat ran out of things to copy?” “He’s been leeching off Cole for years, but a god will always be a god, and a rat in the shadows will always be a rat!” … I took a deep breath, the venomous words blurring on the screen. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I have another robot. I’ll enter that one instead.” I was about to head back into the lab when my phone rang. It was Sierra. I had explicitly told her not to contact me before the competition. I stared at her name on the screen, then coldly blocked her number. “I don’t believe it,” I said to Walt, my voice filled with a grim determination. “There’s no way he could have predicted this arachnid model.” With the resolve of a cornered animal, I re-entered my workshop. This time, I disconnected the entire lab from the network. No hacker could watch me now. I carefully brought out the components of my other project. Its utility and performance were, in many ways, superior to the humanoid model. It was a machine designed to operate in complex, hazardous terrains. It was still a prototype, a secret I had never shared with a single soul. Three hours later, the assembly and programming were complete. I stood back, looking at the spider-like robot with a mix of pride and anxiety. I had spent five years developing this machine. Its most unique feature was its structure; it could shift between eighteen different forms to adapt to any environment. There was no way Cole could know about this. Taking a deep breath, I began to upload the data. But just then, my computer froze. The spinning loading icon on the screen filled me with a sickening sense of dread. When the upload finally finished, I frantically checked Cole’s submission. It had changed. It was now an arachnid-like robot. My arachnid-like robot. I scanned the parameters. They were identical to mine, down to the last decimal. And his upload timestamp was exactly one minute before mine. His latest social media post read: There are too many humanoid robots at the competition this year, don’t you think? I decided to enter this arachnid model instead. If you guys like it, maybe I’ll send you all some miniatures… I swept everything off the desk in a blind rage. “How?!” I screamed, my voice raw. “WHY?!” The world was tilting, my mind fraying at the edges. Walt rushed in at the sound of my roar. He saw the arachnid robot in front of me and understood instantly. “Could it be the organizers?” he asked hesitantly. “Did they give him your data?” It was the only rational explanation he could think of. I stood frozen, a dark, suffocating aura clinging to me. There were only two hours left until the deadline. I couldn’t build another robot from scratch. “I’m calling the organizers. Now,” I bit out, pulling out my phone. I saw that Sierra had called me over a hundred times. After finding her number blocked, she’d used someone else’s phone to send me a single text message: Austin, I love you. My love for you is like your shadow. Where you are, I am. When you are gone, I vanish. The words sparked something in my mind, a fleeting thought I couldn’t quite grasp. I shook my head, dismissing it, and dialed the competition hotline, laying out my accusations. 4 The response from the organizer was cold and bureaucratic. “Mr. Kane, this competition is sponsored by the National Science Institute and was founded by two of its most distinguished members.” “It involves universities from across the country. We would never compromise our integrity for a single student. Especially when…” The voice on the other end took on a mocking tone. “Your university isn’t exactly Ivy League; you don’t have the clout to bribe top scientists.” “If you lack the skills, work harder. Don’t resort to baseless accusations.” With that, he hung up. They wouldn’t take my calls after that. “Austin! It’s getting worse online,” Walt said, his face pale as he handed me his phone. The screen was a wall of vitriol from Cole’s fanbase. SHAMELESS! Openly plagiarizing and still trying to play the victim! Get out of the competition! Someone on Cole’s team must have been bought off! How else could this copycat steal the latest design so fast? Amidst the hate, Cole posted a calm, reasonable message: “The minds of geniuses often run in parallel. Perhaps Austin and I simply had the same idea. It’s okay. He can have this design. I’ll compete with one of my other robots.” Beneath his post, his fans praised his generosity. That’s our Cole! So gracious, even to a thief! LOL, even if you give him the stolen goods, does he even know how to use them? This is disgusting. Someone should call the cops on this vampire before he gets any more ambitious! I stared at the screen, feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice. Why was this happening? Was I supposed to just give up? Let history repeat itself? No. I refuse. There has to be something I’m missing. In the crucible of my rage, my mind became unnaturally clear. Memories of Cole flashed through my mind like a sped-up film. Before I met him, people had called me a genius, too. But since he arrived, my light had been dimmed. He was always smarter, always one step ahead. Suddenly, an idea ignited in my brain. “Walt,” I asked, my voice low and intense. “Do you believe it’s possible for two people to have identical brainwaves?” Walt looked at me, bewildered. “No way. That’s impossible. Not even identical twins.” “Okay,” I said, pressing on. “If I gave you a robot you were completely familiar with, what’s the absolute minimum time it would take you to assemble a new one from scratch?” Walt considered this carefully. “Austin, I’m not on your level, but I’m no slouch either. With all the parts ready, assembly and debugging… minimum, half a day. At least.” “A robot has too many precision components,” he continued. “It’s not like you can just copy and paste the finished product.” As he spoke, my eyes grew brighter. A grin spread across my face, growing into a wild, unrestrained laugh. “You’re right,” I said, the laughter catching in my throat. “It takes at least half a day. So how could two identical, complex machines appear within a minute of each other?” “It’s not scientifically possible!” I stared at the two robots before me, my eyes gleaming with a terrifying, feverish light. I dragged the arachnid robot over to the industrial gravity hammer in the corner of the lab. My finger hovered over the activation button. “I’ve found your flaw,” I whispered.

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The intern threw a massive dinner party for the whole company to celebrate landing a full-time position. After everyone was good and drunk, she secretly stuck me with the bill. I only found out about the dine-and-dash when the restaurant owner showed up at my door, demanding payment for the $20,000 feast. When I couldn’t pay, he put my name and face all over the internet. Angry netizens doxed me. They cut my power, dismantled my e-bike, and even beat my watchdog to death in my own yard. Desperate, I went to the intern, Poppy, begging her to explain everything and pay the owner back. Instead, she went online and started trashing the restaurant. “We’re basically public officials,” she wrote. “People beg for us to eat at their establishments. We graced your restaurant with our presence, and you should be grateful!” “And now you have the audacity to ask for money? You’re insane! If you don’t take that post down, I’ll have my uncle shut your place down for good.” Cornered and desperate, the restaurant owner hunted me down and hacked me to death with a kitchen knife. When I open my eyes again, I’m back on the day of the dinner. 1 “Tara, honey, I’m still a little shaky on these project accounts. Would you mind just… taking care of it for me?” The syrupy-sweet voice of our intern, Poppy, buzzed in my ear. A violent shudder went through my heart. It worked. I was reborn. Today was the day she was officially hired. It was also the day I had died. The celebratory dinner was in one hour. The office was already buzzing with anticipation, my colleagues having given up on work to sneak glances in their compact mirrors, touching up their lipstick and powder. Seeing me frozen at my desk, Poppy looped her arm through mine. “You’ve worked so hard, Tara. Don’t worry, I’m treating you to a huge dinner tonight to thank you!” The phantom terror of the blade, the cold seeping into my skin, still clung to me like a shroud. Instinctively, I shoved her arm away. “Do your own work.” Poppy’s lower lip trembled, her face a perfect mask of wounded innocence. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I just… I really don’t get this part. Or, Tara, maybe you could just take a little time to teach me? Please?” She delivered the lines perfectly. To anyone listening, it sounded like a senior employee on a power trip, refusing to help the new girl. In reality, I had explained the same process to her more than ten times. But Poppy loved playing the helpless newcomer, dumping all her responsibilities onto my desk. Just then, Director Yang, our boss, strode over, his brow furrowed as he fixed me with a cold stare. “Tara Vance. I know you’re busy, but you need to make time for the new hires. We were all new once. Have some empathy.” He wasn’t finished. “Besides, the project accounts are critical. I’d feel much better knowing you handled them personally.” “And today is a happy occasion,” he added, his voice softening as he glanced at Poppy. “It’s Poppy’s big day, and she’s thoughtful enough to treat us all to dinner. You don’t find grateful interns like her very often.” That was the cue for the rest of the hyenas to chime in. “Poppy’s been running around all day booking the restaurant and buying everyone fruit. The least you could do is help her out instead of dumping your own work on her.” “That’s what happens when you get a promotion. Suddenly you’re too good to do anything but boss people around.” “Careful what you say! She might get another promotion tomorrow and make you the first one she fires.” The project accounts were literally the intern’s job. Every other intern in every other department did them. But no one was going to stand up for me. They were all eager to get on Poppy’s good side, because Poppy was Director Yang’s precious niece. The office had devolved into a cacophony of accusations. Poppy, of course, stepped in to play the peacemaker. “Thank you all for sticking up for me, but it really is my job. I’m just slow, and I’m holding Tara up. I’ll get the reports done.” She sighed dramatically. “You’ll all just have to wait a couple of hours for me after work. I need time to figure it all out.” I just nodded. Fine. Let her do it. But Director Yang exploded. “Tara! Are you going to bully a new employee right in front of me?” he boomed. “I don’t care if you’re this company’s top performer. With an attitude like that, I have every right to fire you.” Poppy wrung her hands, the picture of distress. “Please, don’t yell at Tara anymore! It’s my fault, I’m too stupid to handle simple tasks. I’m sure it’s a pain for her to have to teach me when she’s so busy.” She turned to me, her eyes glistening. “Tara, don’t worry about the work. You take everyone to the restaurant. You can all start eating without me!” With Poppy’s performance, Director Yang backed off, slamming his office door behind him. But her words sent a chill down my spine, and the fine hairs on my arms stood on end. In my past life, the whole nightmare started because Poppy used my name and ID to run up that tab. I hadn’t stopped her from setting the trap, but I wasn’t about to walk into it again. The only reason the restaurant owner had agreed to let her run a tab on my name was my position—a manager at a prestigious city agency. But what if I wasn’t a manager anymore? What if I didn’t even work here? I typed up my resignation letter and emailed it directly to the head of corporate HR, bypassing Director Yang entirely. My colleagues were already packed up and ready to go. Seeing me still at my desk, one of them snapped impatiently. “What are you waiting for? We can’t go without you leading the way. Is it fair to make everyone wait for you?” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Can’t you use Google Maps to find the restaurant? What are you, three-year-olds? Need mommy to hold your hand to cross the street?” Someone tried to smooth things over. “Come on, Tara. We’re all colleagues. We should go to a team dinner together. We wouldn’t leave you behind.” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Let’s be honest. You’re just afraid that if I’m not there, the restaurant will make you pay.” “Don’t worry,” I continued, enjoying the way their faces fell. “Your precious Poppy has already picked the place and paid the deposit. You can all go stuff your faces.” I had ripped away their polite masks, and they were furious. “She’s just a hick from the countryside. You can give her a fancy title, but you can’t get rid of that trashy attitude.” “And this is just what we see. Imagine how she must bully Poppy behind our backs.” “Only someone as sweet as Poppy would even think of inviting her. If it were me, I’d rather feed the scraps to a dog.” I knew my colleagues disliked me, but they’d always maintained a veneer of professionalism. Now, they were openly cursing my name. My work ethic had always been rigorous and no-nonsense, which they’d grudgingly respected. But ever since Poppy arrived, their dislike had curdled into personal attacks. Living through this a second time, I finally understood it was all Poppy’s doing. From her first day, she’d worked to win everyone over with a constant stream of coffees and pastries, making them all feel special. Building office relationships is one thing, and I respected her hustle. Then I discovered she was funding her generosity with our project’s expense account. I had naively thought that since she was Director Yang’s niece, stealing from the company would be an embarrassment to him. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Poppy had no shame. Payday was approaching, and I repeatedly urged her to replace the money. She always had an excuse. Finally, with no other choice, I used my own salary to cover the shortfall. As her direct supervisor, I was also responsible. The very next day, when the free coffee didn’t appear, my colleagues blamed me. They said I was a petty tyrant, using my new power to clamp down on Poppy. I couldn’t explain the truth, so I just focused on training her, hoping she’d become competent and I could be rid of her. But it only got worse. Whenever a task involved conflict or telling a client no, she’d find a way to push it onto my plate. Then, she’d swoop in afterward, playing the peacemaker, smoothing things over with more gifts and sweet talk. In the end, the difficult work got done, and everyone praised Poppy for her skill and diplomacy. In less than three months, my reputation was in the gutter while she was the office darling. Even so, after I first discovered the embezzlement, I didn’t think she was evil. When the restaurant owner came for me in my past life, I didn’t blame her, I just asked her to clear things up. I thought she was just a recent graduate who’d made a stupid, impulsive mistake. I never expected her vicious response. “So what if I used your name?” she had sneered. “You love playing the hero, don’t you? Why don’t you just cover this hole, too?” “I never said I wouldn’t pay back the expense money,” she’d continued, her voice rising. “You’re the one who had to make a big deal out of it and tell the whole company. This is your fault! If you had just let me handle the expense reports myself, I wouldn’t have needed to use your name in the first place!” Hearing those words again in my memory made my whole body tremble with rage. As they said, I was from the countryside. Every dollar I earned was earmarked for something critical: my sister’s tuition, my dad’s mounting medical bills. I didn’t have a cent to spare. But my position came with responsibilities, and I had covered for her. To fill that hole in the expense account, I’d had to beg my sister’s principal for an extension on her tuition payment. By the time the restaurant owner came at me with that knife, I was already at rock bottom. I had tried to hide in the office bathroom, but my colleagues had calmly pointed him in my direction. When the police arrived, I was already dead, bleeding out on the cold tile floor. A chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself back to the present. After my colleagues left, I took a shortcut to the restaurant. This time, the one who runs up the bill pays the bill. I used to think Poppy was some rich heiress who could easily afford a $20,000 dinner. It wasn’t until she refused to pay back the expense funds that I learned the truth: her entire family was blacklisted by creditors. Every cent that went into their bank accounts was instantly seized. The only reason she got this job was because of her dear old uncle, Director Yang. This time, I was going to enjoy watching Poppy fall into the very pit she had dug for me. The restaurant’s main dining hall was packed with my colleagues. Lavish dishes began to arrive—foie gras, wild truffle risotto, towers of seafood. Poppy raised her glass, playing the gracious host. “To all of my wonderful new brothers and sisters here! Thank you so much for taking care of me these past few months. Please, eat and drink as much as you like!” The room erupted in cheers. “Poppy, you’re amazing! I’ve never even heard of some of these dishes, let alone seen them. This is a real eye-opener!” “You’re so generous, Poppy! Thanks to you, we get to experience true fine dining.” “Seriously! What did our company do to deserve an angel like you?” My phone buzzed with notifications. Their social media feeds were flooded with pictures of the food, selfies, and gushing posts about their deep love and appreciation for Poppy. Right. Ten-tenths of that appreciation was probably for the wild truffles. Someone even tagged me in a comment. @TaraVance, you’re seriously missing out! Another one followed. You country folk have probably never seen food this good. What a shame! A slow smile spread across my face. Watching them devour every last bite, a profound sense of satisfaction washed over me. In my last life, the owner had cornered me outside the office, his grip like iron on my arm as he screamed about the bill. All those expensive dishes and fine wines added up to a staggering $20,000. Every penny I made went to my father’s medical care; I barely had enough cash on me for bus fare. He gave me three days to come up with the money. When Poppy refused to pay, I begged my colleagues to just split the bill. They turned on me in an instant. “Poppy was the one who invited us. Why should we have to pay?” “She used your name, not ours. This is between you two. Don’t drag us into it.” Some avoided my calls. Others literally turned and walked the other way when they saw me coming. I maxed out my credit cards, but it wasn’t even enough to cover a fraction of the debt. The owner, furious, slapped me hard across the face. “You people who work for the city, you think you can just bully us regular folks?” he had roared. “I’m telling you, if you don’t give me the money today, I’m not leaving!” My colleagues watched, their faces cold and indifferent. “How did our agency hire someone like this? She’s a disgrace.” “I say we just call the police. People like her are a menace.” They all knew Poppy had set me up, but not a single one spoke a word in my defense. Of course not. They’d gotten a free meal out of it. They were the ones who had benefited. The betrayal still felt like a shard of ice in my heart. When our department first started, nobody knew what they were doing. They constantly messed up projects, and when deadlines loomed, they would come to me, sometimes in tears, begging for help. In this economy, no one could afford to lose their job. So I would stay late, night after night, painstakingly fixing their mistakes. And this was how they repaid me. Remembering how it all ended, there was no way in hell I would ever sit at a table with those vipers again. After finalizing my resignation, I was walking out of the building when Poppy ran up and blocked my path. There was a flash of panic in her eyes. “Tara! You quit? Is this some kind of joke?” “Have you forgotten about your sick father? And your sister in high school? What are you going to do for money?” Her words sounded like concern, but I knew the truth. She was terrified that without my job, I had no way to pay her massive dinner bill. She knew every detail of my precarious situation, information Director Yang had undoubtedly fed her. When I first started, Director Yang had been so kind. He gave me extra gifts on holidays and was always lenient with my time-off requests. I thought he genuinely sympathized with the struggles of a kid from a poor family, so I told him everything. I never imagined he was just cataloging my weaknesses, using my family’s poverty to bury me in work, knowing I was too desperate for the money to ever quit. I smirked. “Why I need money is none of your business.” I had fought hard for this stable, respectable job, and I had treasured it. Even when I knew my colleagues hated me and my boss was exploiting me, I’d clung to it. My family’s situation left me no other choice. But being reborn had shown me that life had more options than I ever imagined. I had already accepted a long-standing offer from a Fortune 500 company. The salary was more than five times what I was making here. Seeing my nonchalant attitude, Poppy started to panic. “Fine! You want to leave? Then pay for the dinner first!” she shrieked. “I was going to pay for it myself, but you insisted on treating me as an apology! You said it was on you, that’s the only reason I agreed!” “I signed the bill with your name for the owner,” she lied, her voice getting louder. “You have to pay it.” The audacity was breathtaking. I just laughed in her face. “Whoever ate the free meal pays the price.” I clutched the box with my personal belongings and turned to leave. Suddenly, a foot shot out, and I went sprawling, my box flying as I crashed headfirst onto the pavement. My head spun, stars bursting behind my eyes. When I came to, a crowd of onlookers had gathered. “Hey! That’s her! The one from the city agency who doesn’t pay her bills!” “They make so much more than us small business owners, and they still have the nerve to cheat people!” Phones were out, cameras flashing in my face. A white-hot rage burned through me. I pushed myself up, my head throbbing, and forced the words through gritted teeth. “The one who dined-and-dashed was Poppy Yang! She’s the one who should pay!” Poppy’s face paled. She quickly made a call, summoning the restaurant owner. He arrived moments later, smiling and holding a credit card machine, thinking he was finally getting paid. My former colleagues chimed in from the sidelines. “The owner’s here now. Let’s see how she lies her way out of this one.” Poppy pointed a triumphant finger at me. “There she is, sir. That’s Tara Vance. Get the money from her!” The owner consulted a small notebook and then shook his head. “You must be mistaken, miss. The name on the tab is Poppy Yang. Why would I be asking this woman for payment?” He then pulled an employee ID card from his pocket. When Poppy saw her own ID card, the color drained from her face…

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After my thesis advisor rejected my paper for the ninety-ninth time, I tearfully messaged my online boyfriend. “Babe, my advisor said if it’s not perfect by tomorrow, he’s going to make me defer my graduation.” He replied instantly. “Your advisor is a f*cking moron. What does that old fossil know anyway!” “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll write it for you. You just get your beauty sleep tonight.” The next day, after I handed in the paper my online boyfriend had revised, my advisor went silent for a long time. His eyes grew strange. When he finally spoke, he stammered. “Are you… are you sure this is your work?” 1. In the final year of my Master’s program, my life was an endless cycle of revising my thesis. This latest draft had cost me three all-nighters. The next morning in class, my advisor, Professor Croft, picked up my paper with two disdainful fingers and tossed it aside as if it were contaminated. “Who wrote this garbage? Don’t you dare put my name down as your advisor. That’s pure slander.” Professor Croft was a big deal—a visiting scholar from Cambridge and the scion of some powerful East Coast family. He was brilliant, and to make matters worse, he had the face of a movie star. My best friend was green with envy that I got to stare at that handsome face every day. But only I knew just how venomous his tongue was. One lick and you’d probably drop dead from the poison. I shakily stood up. Instantly, his gaze locked onto me, the kind of look you’d give a particularly slow-witted insect. “How did you even get into this university? Or did you suffer a recent and severe head injury?” Laughter rippled through the classroom. My face burned with humiliation. I wished the floor would swallow me whole. After class, he called my name. “Lily.” “Do you have some alternative timeline in mind for your graduation?” I stood before him like a cornered mouse, too terrified to speak. The next second, he flicked his wrist, and my thesis fluttered to the floor. “This is your last chance. If you hand me this kind of dogsh*t again tomorrow, you can plan on spending another year here.” Biting back tears, I snatched the papers off the floor and fled. 2. I ducked into an empty classroom, and the dam finally broke. I sobbed, fumbling to open the chat with my online boyfriend. “Babe, my advisor said if my paper isn’t perfect by tomorrow, he’s going to make me defer graduation.” I come from a single-parent home. During my first year of grad school, my mom, who worked as a street vendor, was hit by a car while trying to avoid code enforcement. It was a hit-and-run; they never caught the driver. She ended up in the ICU. To pay for her medical bills and stay in school, I started working as a voice-acting streamer. I’d chat with people in a live stream room, my face hidden. I didn’t expect much to come of it. Until he showed up. In a single night, he gifted me three hundred virtual “Galaxies,” the platform’s most expensive gift, becoming my top supporter. That money paid for my mom’s treatment. It saved her life. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I added him on a private messenger. We started talking, and soon, feelings developed. He was incredibly gentle, the complete opposite of my advisor. Every time Professor Croft tore me down, I’d run to my online boyfriend for comfort. And every time, he’d get just as angry as I was, joining me in cursing out my advisor. This time was no different. A string of furious messages appeared. “Your advisor is a f*cking moron. What does that old fossil know anyway!” “My girl is a genius. There’s no way you could have done it wrong.” His comfort was like a shield, making me feel bold. I sent him the latest draft of my thesis. “He said he’s read his share of bad history, but this was the first time he’d ever read dogsht history. He called my thesis a pile of dogsht!” The document status switched to “Read.” The “typing…” bubble appeared and disappeared several times, but no message came through. I nudged him impatiently. “Babe? Say something! Babe!” This time, a series of cute, head-patting emojis popped up. “…It’s okay. My papers used to get ripped apart too.” “Stop crying, you’re breaking my heart.” “I’ll write it for you. You just get your beauty sleep tonight, sweetheart.” His kindness was a warm blanket. Just as I managed to stop my tears, an icy voice cut through the silence. “Does crying provide you with research data? Or perhaps it lowers your plagiarism score?” I hiccupped in shock. Professor Croft pushed open the slightly ajar door, his face as dark as thunder. “If you can’t handle the pressure, then withdraw from my research group. I have no room for useless people on my team.” As he spoke, a few younger students, all vying for a spot under his supervision, filed in behind him. “I expect to see your revised thesis on my desk at eight a.m. sharp tomorrow.” He gave me a pointed look. “I suggest you get to work.” 3. Fleeing the classroom, I walked back to my dorm, tears streaming down my face again. How could a human being say such cold-hearted things? But besides his terrible temper, Professor Croft was top-tier in every other way—industry reputation, academic expertise, everything. He was the best at the university. And I needed to graduate with honors to get a good job and give my mom a better life. I gritted my teeth, wiped my eyes, and tried to rally. Of course, the moment I entered my dorm, I ran into my roommate, who loved to get under my skin. “Well, well. I hear someone might be enjoying an extra year of school. Guess the standards for getting into this university are really slipping if they’re letting just anyone in.” I didn’t have the energy to deal with her. I ignored her and climbed into my bunk. Even though my boyfriend offered to rewrite the paper, I couldn’t just take it for granted. To thank him, I offered to buy him a coffee. The second I sent the message, a transfer notification popped up on my screen. Fifteen thousand dollars. “No, sweetheart. Let me treat you.” Holy crap. What kind of coffee costs fifteen grand? I stared at the string of zeros, completely floored. I’d only ever seen that many zeros on a price tag in a high-end boutique in Beverly Hills. The day ended as it usually did, with my boyfriend trashing my advisor. “He’s an idiot. He wouldn’t recognize a genius like my baby if she slapped him in the face.” “I bet his home life is a wreck. Wife probably left him for another man, his kids aren’t his. That’s why he’s a bitter bastard who takes it out on everyone else.” Reading his messages was a balm to my soul. I sent back a couple of kissy-face emojis and went to sleep, feeling much better. 4. The next morning, I woke up refreshed. The revised thesis from my boyfriend was waiting in my inbox. Sent at 5 a.m. Attached was a note: “You’re the best, sweetheart!” My heart melted. Professor Croft exploited me, and I exploited my boyfriend. It was the circle of academic life. I spammed him with grateful kissy-face emojis, then scrambled to get ready and head to class. As soon as I walked in, I heard my roommate’s shrill voice. “Tsk, look who dared to show up. She went to bed super early last night, didn’t even touch her paper. She must know it’s dogsh*t no matter how many times she polishes it.” “Look at our poor advisor, though. The dark circles under his eyes are huge. Her paper probably gave him insomnia!” “Let’s just sit back and watch the show.” I ignored her, choosing a seat near the door. But that just egged her on. “Smart move, sitting by the door. Makes for a quicker exit when you’re kicked out.” “Look at her, so arrogant. She’s about to get chewed out and cry again.” The words were barely out of her mouth when Professor Croft walked in. He was yawning, looking like he genuinely hadn’t slept. He strode to the lectern, took a huge gulp of coffee, and scanned the room with a cold gaze that finally landed on me. “Lily Yao. Your paper?” My heart hammered against my ribs as I handed him the printed copy. He took it with the same indifferent expression, flipping it open casually. Suddenly, he froze. His eyes widened slightly as he began flipping through the pages rapidly, his gaze darting up to look at me with a strange expression several times. My roommate’s gleeful whisper cut through the silence. “Look, he’s about to explode.” A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I had read the paper. My boyfriend’s work was brilliant. Why was he reacting like this? Finally, he finished his rapid scan. He slapped the paper down on the lectern and stood there in silence for a very long moment. When he looked up again, he stammered. “Is this… are you sure this is your work?” 5. His stare made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to answer. “Y-yes, Professor.” “I spent a lot of time rethinking my approach last night…” His expression grew even more peculiar, a mix of disbelief and the look one might give a newly discovered, unclassifiable species. He tapped a finger on the cover of the paper. “Come to my office.” In his office, Professor Croft paced back and forth, a restless energy radiating from him. I stood meekly, staring at my own shoes. Suddenly, he stopped. “Lily Yao.” His voice wasn’t cold like it usually was. The way he said my full name had a strange, almost gentle quality to it that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I shook my head, trying to clear it of such a ridiculous thought. “Be honest with me. Who wrote this paper for you?” My breath caught in my throat. He knew? How could he know? My online boyfriend lived in a different state; there was no connection between them. “Professor, I really did write it myself.” I had to stick to my story. “Yourself?” A short, derisive laugh escaped him. The smirk on his handsome face was particularly cutting. “The first draft you submitted was a logical mess, and your data was completely fabricated. And you’re telling me that overnight, you transformed it into this perfectly structured, rigorously argued paper?” “Lily, do you think I’m a fool, or do you see yourself as some kind of academic prodigy?” His words left me speechless, my cheeks burning. “I…” “Just get out,” he said, his face suddenly hardening as he pointed to the door. “Since you have so much ‘potential,’ I want a complete literature review and feasibility analysis on the ‘Urban Kitchen Wastewater Treatment’ model you mentioned in the paper. Have it on my desk by three p.m.” His eyes were cold as ice. “If you can’t deliver, you know the consequences.” 6. My mind went completely blank. “Urban Kitchen Wastewater Treatment” was the core theory of the revised paper. The academic principles involved were so complex they gave me a headache just thinking about them. It was impossibly difficult. And three p.m. was less than four hours away. This was an impossible task. He was deliberately trying to make me fail. I clutched the “perfect thesis” like a hot potato and trudged out of his office, my head hanging in defeat. The second I got back to the classroom, my delightful roommate was on me. “Ooh, get another scolding? Told you so. If you don’t have the skills, you just don’t have them. No point in pretending.” I didn’t have the mental space to deal with her. My brain was consumed by one phrase: “Urban Kitchen Wastewater Treatment.” What was I going to do? There was only one person I could turn to. My all-powerful boyfriend. I pulled out my phone and frantically typed out the situation. “Babe, HELP! I think my advisor knows I didn’t write the paper. He’s making me write a full analysis of the ‘Urban Kitchen Wastewater Treatment’ model in less than four hours!” “I’m so screwed!” The message was marked as “Read” instantly. “Don’t panic, sweetheart.” “Your advisor is just trying to screw with you. I bet he doesn’t even understand that model himself.” “The key is wastewater pipe centralization and the purification process. Focus on those two aspects.” “I just emailed you the research data. Organize data sets A, B, and F and plug them into the template I sent you.” “For the conclusion, make sure you emphasize ‘high risk, high reward,’ and add a line recommending a ‘small-scale pilot program.’ Your rigid-minded advisor will think you’re being incredibly thorough.” I stared at his detailed instructions, completely stunned. How… how did he know all of this? How did he predict exactly what my advisor would think?

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1 The day before our wedding, Michael Holland died in a car crash. Everyone expected me to fall apart, but I didn’t shed a tear. Five years later, in a chance encounter at a hotel, he was back from the dead, with a convenient case of amnesia. Eggged on by a crowd of his friends, he was locked in a deep, lingering kiss with my stepsister. When he saw me standing alone, a smug grin spread across his face. “So you’re the fiancée I left behind? Still waiting for me after five years? You’re some kind of super-simp, aren’t you? Can’t live without me?” “I know you’re dying for me,” he continued, oozing arrogance. “And look, since you’ve been so loyal all this time, I’ll consider keeping you on the side. But the title of Mrs. Holland is reserved for Chloe. I’ll be with her Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I can see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You should be thrilled.” I was, in fact, thrilled. “I’m sorry,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips. “You must have me confused with someone else.” What Michael didn’t know was that on the night of his “fatal” accident, I received a video. What he knew even less was that during the five years he and my dear stepsister were living it up, I had married another man. And we had a four-year-old daughter. And that man… was his uncle. … I never imagined that the first time I saw Michael again, it would be like this. His arm was wrapped tightly around Chloe’s waist, their bodies pressed together as he responded to the rowdy cheers of their friends with a kiss so deep a string of saliva connected them when they finally pulled apart. Chloe melted into his arms, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I give up,” she pouted, her voice a breathy whisper. “You kiss so hard I can’t even breathe. You’re such a beast. I’m ignoring you now!” Michael nuzzled her neck. “You think that’s beastly? You weren’t saying that last night when you were begging me to—” The private room erupted in another round of boisterous laughter. Chloe playfully tried to cover his mouth, her body draped over him like a boneless doll. Someone in the crowd called out, “So, Michael, my man. It’s been five years. You really done with Evelyn for good?” Michael leaned back into the plush sofa, shrugging with casual indifference. “Of course not. I’m just not done playing yet. Once Chloe and I are married, my memory will magically come back.” “Yeah, right!” another friend jeered. “Everyone knows she worships the ground you walk on. The second she finds out you’re alive, she’ll be back to her old tricks, probably crawling up a mountain on her knees to thank God you’re safe, just like she did five years ago.” “Hahaha, I can’t! Just thinking about how pathetic and desperate she was makes me die laughing. She’s the queen of all simps. I heard she had a rough time abroad these past five years. Probably can’t even function without you.” The laughter in the room was deafening, nearly shaking the walls. I had intended to leave, but someone with sharp eyes spotted me. “Evelyn!” The same guy who had just been laughing the loudest at my expense now looked awkwardly at me. “Hey! Michael’s alive! We didn’t tell you because… well, he has amnesia, and he’s with someone else now. We were just trying to protect you.” “Yeah, that’s right!” another chimed in. “We all know you’re the one he really loves, but he just doesn’t remember you. If you make a scene now, he’ll just think you’re crazy.” Before I could say a word, Michael let out a derisive snort. “So, you’re the one. The fiancée who’s supposedly dying of love for me?” His eyes swept over my simple, understated dress with a look of pure disgust. “Look at the state of you. You really fell apart without me, didn’t you? Is your life that meaningless?” He was still the same Michael. Arrogant, condescending, and utterly convinced of his own importance. Five years had passed. Looking at the smug satisfaction in his eyes, I felt none of the old flutterings in my heart. Only revulsion. I had just gotten off a plane, still fighting off jet lag. The only reason I was at this hotel was to pick up a strawberry mousse for my daughter; it was her favorite, and this was the only place that made it. Seeing my silence, he lazily pulled Chloe closer and gave her a short, passionate French kiss right in front of me. “Oh, stop it,” Chloe giggled, swatting his chest. “My sister is watching.” I pressed my lips together, a wave of nausea rolling through me. Michael completely misinterpreted my expression. A pleased look crossed his face. “What’s there to be afraid of? You’re going to be Mrs. Holland. If she wants to stick around, she’ll have to get used to it.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Look, for the sake of the five years you kept yourself pure for me, I’ll keep you as my mistress. I’ll spend three days a week with Chloe, and three days with you. And on Sundays, you can come over and wait on both of us.” His friends immediately jumped in to support him. “See, Evelyn? Even with amnesia, he hasn’t forgotten you! He’s giving you three days a week!” “Yeah, you look like hell. You must have been scrubbing toilets and waiting tables to get by overseas, right? You should say yes before he changes his mind. Then you won’t get to see him even if you get on your knees and beg.” Chloe tightened her grip on Michael’s arm, a clear display of ownership, and looked at me with open provocation. “I’m so sorry, sister. But what can I do? Michael only loves me now. You’ll just have to be the dirty little secret on the side.” “A secret?” Michael scoffed. “She can’t live without me. She’d jump off a bridge if I told her to.” A faint, sharp pang went through my chest. Five years ago, in that car crash, he had thrown his body over mine, shielding me from the impact. Just before he closed his eyes, he had held my trembling hand, his voice weak but steady. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m tough. I’m not gonna die. I told you, I’ll be your guardian angel forever. No one will ever hurt you.” The man who had loved me so much… could he really have changed this completely, just because of amnesia? I pushed down the bitterness in my heart, took a deep breath, and smiled faintly. “I’m sorry. You’ve all made a mistake.” I held up my hand, showing them the simple, elegant ring on my finger. “And besides, I’m already married.” For a few seconds, the room was dead silent. Then, it exploded with roaring laughter. Michael raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Married? To who, the garbage man? The street sweeper?” “Evelyn, you can’t possibly think a pathetic lie like that is going to make me jealous, can you? Have you lost your mind?” Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and ripped the ring from my finger. I winced in pain. Just as I was about to speak, Chloe burst out laughing. “Michael, honey, isn’t that ‘The Eternal Love’? The one your uncle bought at that auction in Paris five years ago for twenty million?” “Oh my god, sister,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’re not going to tell us you married Uncle Julian, are you? That you’re Michael’s aunt now?” The laughter in the room grew even louder. Everyone knew that the current head of the Holland family was Michael’s uncle, Julian Holland. Though only five years older than Michael, he was a man whose name alone commanded respect. He was handsome, incredibly wealthy, and notoriously devoted to his wife. After five years of marriage, almost no one had ever seen his wife or daughter; he kept them completely hidden from the public eye. “Don’t tell me, sister,” Chloe taunted. “Are you trying to say you’re the mysterious wife Julian Holland has been hiding away for five years?” Someone else picked up my ring. “I gotta say, it’s a pretty good fake. Must have cost a fortune. Evelyn really went all out to try and trick you, Michael.” Faced with their ridicule, I tried to explain. “It’s not a fake. This ring is real—” Before I could finish, a hand swung through the air and a white-hot sting exploded across my cheek. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Michael snarled, his face contorted with rage. “You can lie about anyone, but you bring my uncle into this? Everyone knows how much he loves his wife! You think he’d want you, my sloppy seconds? If you don’t have a mirror, go find a puddle and take a good look at yourself! I can’t stand women who lie just to get attention. I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like you. How pathetic!” I slowly turned my head back to face him, cradling my cheek. Perhaps it was the calmness in my eyes, but he suddenly looked away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. But Chloe wasn’t about to let it go. “Sister, Michael has amnesia and he’s still willing to keep you as a mistress. You should be grateful! Instead, you’re trying to cause trouble for him. You know how protective Uncle Julian is of his wife. By pretending to be her, you’re just asking for trouble for Michael! You’re so selfish and cruel!” Chloe was my stepfather’s daughter. The day of my own father’s funeral, while we were still at the service, my mother forced me to accept her as my new, younger sister. She was like a shadow, a specter determined to destroy anything good in my life. If she could steal it, she would. If she couldn’t, she’d ruin it. Five years ago, Michael had stood in front of me like a god, shielding me from her, his voice cold with fury as he told her to back off. Now, it was the same man. But this time, he was standing in front of Chloe, shielding her from me. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and threw it in my face. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Money. Go on, pick it up.” The sharp edge of a bill cut my forehead. A small bead of blood welled up. I didn’t wipe it away. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something—unease, maybe even concern—in Michael’s eyes. The next moment, I bent down. He let out a sigh of relief, a mocking smile returning to his face. “That’s more like it. A good little simp knows her place…” I ignored the red bills scattered on the floor and picked up the ring that had been tossed into a corner. Michael stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. A strange, unfamiliar panic began to stir within him. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. “Are you addicted to this act? Isn’t there enough money there to buy a hundred of your fake rings?” I didn’t understand his sudden anger. “Let go of me.” “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” he seethed, his teeth clenched. “Fine. Chloe and I are getting married in a week. My uncle will be back in the country for it. You should come. I’ll let him get a good look at you, see just how shameless my discarded trash can be.” At the mention of marriage, Chloe’s face lit up with undisguised glee. “You’re not going to be too scared to show up, are you, sister?” I carefully put the ring away. “Fine,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “I’ll be there. I hope you don’t regret it.” I walked out of the room, pausing for a moment in the hallway. I heard one of Michael’s friends sigh. “Dude, you sure you didn’t take it too far? Something about Evelyn seems… off. What if she really is married?” “No way,” Michael said, his voice full of certainty. “She’s just putting on a show. All I have to do is crook my little finger and she’ll come crawling back.” He seemed to recall the unnerving calm in my eyes as I left, and he nervously licked his lips. “I’m done playing around anyway. After the wedding, I’ll ‘get my memory back.’ I’ll tell her a sob story, tell her she’s the only one I’ve ever loved. She’ll be back to licking my boots in no time.” “You’re the man, Michael! Faking amnesia, partying for five years, and you still have her wrapped around your finger.” Chloe pouted. “But what about me, Michael, honey? What happens when you get your memory back?” Michael squeezed her waist. “The same thing that’s happening now, of course. Besides, isn’t sneaking around more exciting?” I listened to their conversation, a deep, chilling cold spreading through my heart. I walked quickly to the hotel entrance, taking several deep breaths to quell the rising nausea. What Michael didn’t know was that five years ago, on the night he “died” in that car crash, I had received a video. I pulled out my phone and played it. His voice, laced with laughter, filled the air. “I love Evelyn, I do. But she’s so… bland. The thought of being with only one woman for the rest of my life is just so boring. I’m going to fake my death, go have some fun for a few years. When I come back, I’ll just say I have amnesia. You guys better get lots of videos of her falling apart. I can’t wait to see her completely shattered without me.” The day the doctors pronounced him dead, I gave him exactly what he wanted. The despair was so absolute, so soul-crushing, that I couldn’t even cry. I wanted to die with him. It was his “good friends” who held me back, who saved me. I never noticed the phone, hidden in the corner, recording my agony. I never noticed the mocking smirks they fought to hide behind their masks of feigned grief. I put my phone away. From that day on, Michael faked his death. But in my heart, he was well and truly dead. The news that Michael was alive, coupled with his impending wedding, caused a massive stir. That night, Chloe updated her social media. A romantic wedding venue. A stunning, one-of-a-kind wedding dress. A diamond ring called “The Eternal Love.” Everything had been for me. Everything was what Michael had meticulously planned for our wedding. In the photo, their hands were intertwined, the caption a string of nauseatingly sweet nothings. I glanced at it and was about to close the app when a message from Michael popped up. “Are you dying of jealousy yet?” I deleted and blocked him. Immediately, a message from Chloe appeared. “See that? You’re just a dog we keep around for our entertainment. I’m the only one who deserves to be Mrs. Holland.” I gave her the same treatment. A week later, the wedding day arrived. My daughter was being particularly clingy, so by the time I got to the hotel, the ceremony was already at the ring exchange. Michael, who had been anxiously glancing at the door, visibly relaxed the moment he saw me. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. When the officiant asked if he would take the bride to be his wife, he deliberately paused, drawing out the moment. But I gave him no reaction. He watched as I calmly helped myself to a piece of cake from the dessert table, and his face instantly darkened. Suddenly, someone shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled forward, crashing into a table laden with champagne glasses. A tower of champagne, taller than I was, came crashing down. A cascade of alcohol and shattered glass rained down on me. Blood trickled down from my forehead, blurring my vision. Through the haze, I thought I saw Michael take two anxious steps toward me, but Chloe beat him to it. She grabbed me, her face a mask of tear-streaked sorrow. “Sister! I invited you to my wedding out of the kindness of my heart! How could you ruin it like this? I know you’re jealous that Michael only loves me now, but you can hit me, you can scream at me! Why did you have to destroy my happiness? Do you hate the thought of me being happy that much?” Her grip was surprisingly strong, her sharp nails digging into my skin. It was so painful my scalp tingled. As I instinctively tried to push her away, she let out a sharp cry and threw herself backward. The next second, I was shoved violently aside. My ankle twisted under me in my high heels, and I gasped in pain. I looked up and met Michael’s furious gaze. “Are you some kind of leech? I don’t even remember you, and you’re still throwing yourself at me! I have never met a more shameless woman in my life. Apologize to Chloe, now!” The ballroom was filled with guests, many of whom had only come in the hopes of seeing Julian Holland. Eager to get on Michael’s good side, they all turned on me. “Have some dignity! The man doesn’t even remember you, and you’re still chasing after him like a stray dog. It’s pathetic.” “And to ruin her own sister’s wedding! She’s just a bitter, evil woman. Michael, you really dodged a bullet not marrying a curse like her.” Chloe, nestled safely in Michael’s arms, pointed a trembling finger at my hand. “Sister, I told you Uncle Julian was coming today. How could you still wear that fake ‘Eternal Love’ ring? Are you saying you love Michael, but you’re really trying to seduce his uncle?” Her words drew everyone’s attention to my hand. Someone in the crowd immediately piped up. “I heard a story once. Some woman showed up pregnant, claiming the baby was Mr. Holland’s. All Mrs. Holland did was take off her ‘Eternal Love’ ring for one day. The next day, that woman was found in a back-alley clinic in Paris, collar around her neck, all four limbs gone.” At this, Michael’s face grew grim. Chloe spoke up, her voice full of false concern. “Michael, honey, everyone’s watching. Before Uncle Julian sees this… we have to do something about her hand.” Michael was silent for a moment. Then, he picked up a steak knife from a nearby table. I backed away, but his friends quickly surrounded me. “Michael, if you touch me, Julian Holland will not let you get away with this.” “Oh, sister, stop being so stubborn,” Chloe cooed. “You don’t know how ruthless Uncle Julian can be. When he deals with you, it won’t just be a hand. Michael is only taking your hand out of respect for your past relationship.” Michael advanced on me, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “I’ll be quick.” They pinned my hand to the table. Despair washed over me. “Let go of me!” I screamed, my face pale with terror. “My husband is Julian Holland!” Everyone looked at me like I was insane. Michael knelt down beside me. “I know you’re only doing this to get my attention, because you love me so much. But you have to stop saying crazy things like this. It’s just a hand. I won’t mind once it’s gone.” As he spoke, he brought the knife down. The ring, along with my finger, was severed. Agony, white-hot and blinding, tore through me. I almost fainted from the pain. Chloe quickly snatched the severed finger and threw it out a nearby window. As she turned back, through my pain-blurred vision, I saw a triumphant, vicious smile on her face. “Dude, that’s enough,” one of his friends whispered nervously. “What are you going to do when you ‘get your memory back’?” “What are you talking about?” Chloe cut in immediately. “Uncle Julian is on his way. Do you want to see him have her limbs cut off and a collar put around her neck?” “She’s right,” another guest added. “You can get a prosthetic hand. It’s better than being dead.” The flicker of doubt on Michael’s face vanished. He looked at my curled, trembling form on the floor and clenched his jaw. “Evelyn, I’m doing this for your own good. I’ll make it up to you later.” I was in too much pain to speak, tears of pure despair streaming from my eyes. The silver knife was about to fall again when the grand doors of the ballroom were thrown open. Julian Holland, surrounded by an entourage of assistants and security, strode into the room.

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At my wife’s birthday party, her date for the evening pinched his nose and declared that I stank. She just laughed, ordering her security to strip me and throw me in the pool. “Why don’t you wash off that reek of poverty and filth,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “You can get out when it’s gone.” My dogs, the pack I’d raised myself, surged forward, trying to drive off the men holding me under. But my wife simply ordered the staff to beat them all to death. They had no idea. They thought they were just dogs. They didn’t know I could command beasts. Amid the jeering laughter, I lifted the lifeless body of my youngest pup into my arms and raised the ivory whistle to my lips. “Today,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise, “not a single one of you is leaving this place.” 01 The moment the words left my mouth, the garden erupted in howls of laughter. “Did the water go to his brain? Blowing a whistle? Does he think he’s some kind of hero? He’s going to break a tooth talking like that.” “Ooh, such big words. I guess we didn’t wash him clean enough.” “Here, let’s give him another rinse.” With that, they grabbed my head and shoved it back under the chlorinated water. Clarissa watched from the patio, a serene smile on her face, making no move to stop them. Of course she didn’t. This was all her command. But this time, the hands that had been impossible to break free from felt like paper. I threw them off with ease. Seeing me resist ignited Clarissa’s fury. She stormed over, not caring about the water soaking her designer dress, and grabbed me by the collar. “Cole, you dare fight back?” she seethed. “You’re a charity case from the mountains. If it weren’t for the Sinclair family, you’d still be running with wild dogs.” “Listen to me, Cole. If you want to keep living under our roof, you will get in that pool and wash the stench off you. The Sinclairs do not shelter trash.” I brushed her hand away. “Clarissa,” I asked, a humorless laugh in my voice, “what on earth makes you think I need the Sinclair family?” Her face flushed crimson. Ever since the Sinclair Corporation had started its meteoric rise three years ago, no one had dared to speak to her like that, least of all the man she despised most. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, Cole? You and your filthy mutts—every cent spent on you came from us!” “Don’t you dare play the saint with me.” I flicked a few drops of water from my shirt. “You’ve got that wrong,” I said calmly. “I’ve never used a single cent of Sinclair money. In fact, the question is, how much have the Sinclairs enjoyed spending mine?” It was the truth. Three years ago, the Sinclair Corporation was on the brink of collapse. Her father, Arthur Sinclair, had come to me, bearing my family’s token. My grandfather had told me before he died that if anyone ever came with that token, I was to help them, as long as it wasn’t for some wicked purpose. So I left the mountains with my pack and, as he wished, I married Clarissa. With my skills and connections, I opened doors for the Sinclair Corporation that had been sealed shut for decades. I made them the undisputed titans of Apex City. My words silenced the party. Every eye turned to Clarissa. She was trembling with rage. Her hand flew up to strike me. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! The Sinclair name has stood for a century! What are you that you dare say such things?” Cradling the small, still body in my arms, I couldn’t dodge in time. The slap was hard and clean. The taste of blood filled my mouth. That slap brought the rage simmering beneath the surface to a full boil. I looked at her, my voice cold. “Miss Sinclair, aren’t you afraid of what your father will say when he finds out about this?” Clarissa just waved a dismissive hand. “My father’s gone senile. That’s the only reason he fell for your tricks. Today, I’m going to make him see that a person like you will never be worthy of me.” I didn’t know if this was her idea or her father’s, but I was done talking. I turned to leave with my fallen companion. “Wait!” It was Lance’s voice. “Mr. Miller. It wouldn’t be right for you to just walk off with Sinclair property, would it?” I turned back to face him. “I’ve told you. Nothing I have belongs to the Sinclairs.” Lance’s lips curled into a smug, provocative smile as he pointed at the small body in my arms. “This dog ate Sinclair food, drank Sinclair water. That makes it a Sinclair dog, even in death. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Miller?” 02 The insinuation was clear to everyone. The tense atmosphere shattered. “Hahaha, Mr. Knight is right! The most important thing in life is gratitude. For example, if something isn’t yours, it’s not yours even when it’s dead.” “That dog looks like it was well-fed. I wonder how it tastes?” “Easy enough to find out! You think Clarissa would say no if Lance asked?” “Of course not. Everyone knows she’d do anything for him.” The mockery grew louder. Lance wrapped an arm around Clarissa, his expression one of pure arrogance. I hugged the cold body in my arms tighter, my gaze locking on Clarissa. “Is that what you think, Clarissa? Do you agree with him?” She smiled and gave a firm, deliberate nod. “Lance is right. It ate my food, drank my water. Even dead, it’s my dog.” She looked me up and down, then sneered. “As for you—you can crawl back to whatever mountain ditch you came from.” I hadn’t expected that. She knew how much my dogs meant to me. They had been my constant companions since I left the mountains. Even her own father treated them with kindness. I had always told myself that this arranged marriage wasn’t what she wanted, that a man should be patient with his wife’s moods. When she mocked me for smelling like the animals I spent my time with, I endured it for her father’s sake. But my tolerance had only earned me deeper humiliation, culminating in the brutal murder of the animals I’d raised since they were pups. In that moment, I decided I was done enduring. Lance, seeing my silence, grew impatient and reached out to snatch the body from my arms. I sidestepped him easily. “And what if I say no?” I said, my voice calm. “If you want to take what’s mine, you’re not worthy. None of you are.” Clarissa seemed stunned by my defiance. Then, her shock turned to rage. “Cole! Today, I will teach you whose name is on the deed to this house!” Did she really think I didn’t know? On paper, the company was still Sinclair. In reality, every major deal, every new venture, was mine. With a single word, I could have the name changed. But Clarissa, despite her dislike for me, had always maintained a certain decorum in public. She’d never humiliated me like this before. First, she lets her boy-toy provoke me, then she has my dog killed. Either this was her father’s doing, or she had found a new patron powerful enough to defy him. Either way, my patience had finally run out. Clarissa clung to Lance’s arm. “Guards! Take the dog back. And strip him. I don’t want him leaving with a single thing that belongs to this family.” My eyes were ice. “Clarissa, don’t forget what your father told you.” At the mention of her father, the approaching servants hesitated. Arthur Sinclair had stepped back from daily operations, but his authority was still absolute. They were caught in the middle. Seeing them falter, Clarissa shrieked, her voice echoing across the garden. “Cole, you dare threaten me with my own father?! Do it!” 03 The other dogs in my pack, injured but alive, struggled to their feet. They formed a protective circle around me, their eyes fixed on the approaching men. The servants backed away. They knew how formidable these animals were. A team of mercenaries who once tried to break in and kidnap Clarissa had been torn apart by this very pack. I knelt and gently stroked their heads. “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered. “I will make them pay.” My voice was soft, but those nearby heard it and laughed again. “Did you hear that? He’s telling the dogs he’ll make us pay.” “He really does think he’s one of them.” Clarissa covered her nose in disgust as I touched the animals. “Disgusting. Just like their master. We’ll kill them all today and have a feast.” I fought to control my fury. “You want to eat them?” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You must be dreaming.” Lance stepped forward. “Cole, you live off the Sinclairs’ charity, and you have the audacity to talk back to Clarissa.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell them not to resist. We’ll make it quick for them. And don’t worry, after we make stew, we’ll be sure to save you the bones.” The crowd of rich heirs roared with laughter. They had been subtly isolating me all night, and now, with Lance’s arrival, their sycophancy had reached a fever pitch. “Let me be blunt,” I said, my gaze sweeping across their smug faces before landing back on Clarissa. “You are not qualified to force me to do anything. It’s not that I look down on you… it’s that even if your fathers were standing here, they wouldn’t be qualified either.” “Especially you, Clarissa.” “I finally understand why your father refuses to hand the company over to you. He’s known all along that you’re an incompetent fool.” The words struck a nerve. Her face contorted with rage. “What do you think you are, Cole?” she screamed. “You’re nothing but a dog my grandfather raised for me!” “And let me tell you something. Lance is the heir to a reclusive dynasty. With his help, the Sinclair Corporation will be mine!” I looked at Lance, who puffed out his chest at the mention of his status, and almost laughed. A reclusive dynasty named Knight? I wondered what the old masters would say if they heard that. My silence was misinterpreted as fear. Lance wrapped an arm around Clarissa and kissed her deeply. When they broke apart, he shot me a contemptuous look. “Only a man of my station is worthy of Clarissa. As for you—” His eyes raked over me. “—get as far away from here as you can.” The other heirs immediately began to chime in. “Mr. Knight is the heir to a reclusive dynasty? No wonder he captured Miss Sinclair’s heart!” “They’re a perfect match! A match made in heaven!” The flattery went to their heads. Clarissa dropped all pretense. “Cole,” she said, her voice cold and final. “I want a divorce.” 04 Now I was sure. Her father knew nothing about this. If he had any idea who Lance claimed to be, he would never agree to a divorce. Since Clarissa had decided to grind my dignity into the dirt, I no longer felt any need to honor the kindness her father had shown me. I clapped slowly. “Finally. You’ve revealed your true purpose.” “The public humiliation, the murder of my dog… all of it was just a prelude to asking for a divorce, wasn’t it?” “I just don’t understand. Why go to all this trouble?” Clarissa sensed the fury beneath my calm exterior. She clung to Lance’s arm and sneered. “Because Lance hates you, of course. We had to do something to make you give up for good.” I was genuinely shocked. What had I ever done to make her think I was so desperate to hold on to her that she needed to resort to this? I laughed out loud. “Clarissa, have I ever once told you that I love you? Who gave you the ridiculous idea that I would cling to you like some pathetic stray?” Yes, I had tolerated her foolishness. But that didn’t mean she could parade her lover in front of me and expect me to take it. Her face darkened. Lance, however, couldn’t resist jumping in. “Don’t try to save face. There’s no shame in loving Clarissa. The only shame is being loved by someone like you.” He kicked one of the bodyguards standing nearby. “What are you waiting for? Get the dogs and throw him back in the pool.” These were not the household servants from before. These were professional security, armed and ready. At Lance’s command, they charged. The dogs around me crouched low, a deep, menacing growl rumbling in their chests. I raised the ivory whistle to my lips. As the sound pierced the air, the dogs moved with an almost human intelligence, dodging and weaving through the guards’ attacks. Until the guards were gasping for breath, and still hadn’t managed to touch a single one.

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