My world fell apart. I’d woken up inside a novel, as the tragic heroine in one of those grim, tearjerker stories. You know the type. The heroine gets mentally and physically torn to shreds, suffers a miscarriage, has her eyes gouged out, a kidney stolen, and then, finally, dies a miserable death. Only then does the male lead realize she was innocent all along, and he’s left to drown in a lifetime of regret. Seriously, this lawless world of yours can kiss my ass. I fell asleep seeing red, cursing them all under my breath. When I opened my eyes, I was in the exact moment the heroine was framed by the male lead’s “one true love” for her own miscarriage. Oh, hell yeah. Now this, I can work with. I whipped out my phone and dialed three little numbers. “Help! Someone just tried to murder me!” Let’s just see if this angsty, tragedy-filled world of yours actually has cops. 1 When I came to, I was slowly waking up in a hospital bed. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Ugh.” A tall figure in a black trench coat stood beside the bed, his voice as cold as ice. “If you’re awake, stop playing dead. Go and apologize to Lila.” That line… why did it sound so damn familiar? Wasn’t this from that god-awful novel I was reading before bed? Matt Lennon’s features were sharp and handsome, but silhouetted against the light, with his hands shoved in his pockets, he just looked like an arrogant prick. In the original story, Matt and the heroine, Elara, were married in name only. Elara had been secretly in love with him for years, and while Matt was drawn to her, he never admitted it to himself. Not until his childhood sweetheart, Lila, returned to the country. Lila, desperate to break them up and take Elara’s place, drugged Matt, intending to sleep with him. But through a twist of fate, Matt ended up in bed with Elara instead. Forced to adapt, Lila flipped the script and accused Elara of being the one who drugged him. Elara couldn’t defend herself, and Matt, believing she was a manipulative schemer, grew colder and more distant. From that one night, Elara got pregnant. The first trimester was already precarious, but Lila showed up at their home, deliberately provoking her. She shoved Elara down the stairs, causing an immediate miscarriage. And now this asshole wanted me to apologize to her? Un-fucking-believable. I am not the original Elara. I’m here to collect your souls. I scowled, my patience worn thin. “Apologize? Like hell I will!” Matt blinked. “?” His brief confusion hardened into a deep frown. “So, you’re finally dropping the act. Lila was right. Your gentle, understanding persona was all a facade!” He lunged forward, grabbing my arm to drag me from the bed. “You carelessly fell down the stairs and had the audacity to frame Lila. She’s so consumed with guilt that she hasn’t eaten or had a drop of water since you lost consciousness. If you have a shred of decency, you’ll go and apologize to her right now!” Screw you and your decency! I ripped my arm from his grasp, a wave of dizziness washing over me. This body was still incredibly weak from the miscarriage. I peeled my eyes open and glared at him, extending my hand. “Give me my phone.” Matt’s frown deepened, but as he took in my pale face, a flicker of pity crossed his eyes. He pulled out his phone as he spoke. “Fine, you can call her to apologize. I’ll let it slide this time, given your condition. But don’t you ever be so defiant again, or else—” He was still talking, but I’d already snatched the phone. With deliberate purpose, I pressed three numbers. The call connected instantly. I spoke calmly into the receiver. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report an assault. Aggravated assault, actually.” Matt: ? The police arrived with surprising speed. Soon, a few officers were gathered around my hospital bed. I cleared my throat and let out a theatrical, gut-wrenching sob. “Officers, you have to help me!” I pointed a trembling finger at the utterly bewildered Matt. “My husband is cheating on me with his mistress! She came to our house and pushed me down the stairs! My baby… my baby is gone because of her! Oh, God, my poor child! Waaah!” Matt’s face turned a shade of furious grey. He met the officers’ stern, suspicious gazes and stammered, “That’s not… I didn’t…” “Matt…” A soft voice called from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Lila, dressed in a simple white dress, looking fragile and delicate. She gazed at the room with wide, innocent eyes. What a goddamn actress. My mind raced. I had to strike first before she could spin her web of lies and play the victim. I ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand and scrambled to the far corner of the bed, yanking at my hair to make it a mess. “Help me!” I shrieked, my voice cracking with manufactured terror. “She’s here! The murderer is here! She’s come to finish me off! She killed my baby, and now she wants to kill me!” Lila’s carefully crafted expression of vulnerability almost shattered. She took a hesitant step forward, her face stiff. Matt started to move towards her, but the lead officer blocked his path. “Sir, the complainant has accused you both of assault. We need to get a statement. Please maintain your distance.” Lila: ? Another officer gently tried to calm me down. I pretended to compose myself, hiding behind him and shivering. “It was her. She’s the one who pushed me down the stairs. My poor baby… only three months along. He never even got a chance to see the world.” Matt’s face was a thundercloud. “Elara! What nonsense are you spouting? You fell by accident! How dare you slander Lila and waste police time by calling them? Do you have any idea how illegal that is?” I clutched the officer’s sleeve, my voice small and pathetic. “She really did push me. After I got pregnant, I installed security cameras all over the house for safety. You can check the footage, officer!” One of the officers nodded, got the address from me, and quickly left with his partner to retrieve the recordings. Lila looked like she was about to have a panic attack. She had been so bold because she thought there were no witnesses; the idea of cameras had never crossed her mind. The original heroine was a real piece of work, wasn’t she? Holding onto evidence but choosing to suffer in silence. What was she trying to do, win an award for tragic performance art? The police were efficient. They returned to the hospital room shortly after, holding up a body cam that was playing the security footage. It was crystal clear: Lila cornering me, her hand shooting out to shove my shoulder, sending me tumbling down the stairs. A pool of crimson spread beneath me. The video showed Matt rushing in moments later, finding only Lila kneeling beside me, looking utterly helpless. Lila’s legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor with a thud. Matt shook his head, muttering in disbelief. “No… it can’t be. Lila… she really killed my child…” Lila crawled towards him, grabbing his pant leg. “Matt, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I just wanted her to stop clinging to you! I never wanted to kill your baby! It was an accident, I swear! Please, forgive me, please?” I couldn’t take it anymore. “What the hell is wrong with you? Who are you asking for forgiveness? I’m the one you pushed down the stairs! I’m the one who had a miscarriage! And I’m the one still lying in this goddamn hospital bed! You’re crying at the wrong damn grave, you idiot!” Lila: ? Matt: ? The entire police force: ??? Shit. I forgot my character. I quickly clutched my stomach, my voice dropping into a mournful whisper. “Now that the evidence is clear, officer… Lila is guilty of aggravated assault. I want to press full charges. Please, you have to arrest her. She’s vicious and manipulative. She’ll try to hurt me again. I’m so scared… Every time I think about my poor, dead baby, I can’t sleep… Waaah…” My acting may have been terrible, but the facts were undeniable. Lila was arrested and taken away. She’d be held for at least 15 days. Matt just stared at me blankly, then watched as Lila struggled and cried while being escorted out. A look of profound confusion clouded his handsome face. Confused? You’re part of the problem, you magnificent dumbass! I settled back onto the hospital bed. “Matt, I want a divorce.” His lips trembled. “A divorce? What right do you have to ask me for a divorce?” …And there it is. A classic line straight out of a billionaire romance novel. Without another thought, I snatched the water glass from the nightstand and hurled it at his stupidly handsome head. “Do you think having a few bucks in your pocket makes you some kind of emperor who owns my life? I said I want a divorce, and I will get a divorce! It has nothing to do with ‘rights’! It’s a power granted to me by the goddamn law, not some favor you benevolently bestow upon me! I’ll have the divorce papers sent to you tomorrow. If you dare refuse to sign, I’ll leak everything that happened today. ‘CEO of Lennon Corporation in Adulterous Affair; Conspires with Mistress to Cause Wife’s Miscarriage.’ Just wait for your stock to plummet, your market value to evaporate, and the board of directors to demand your head!” The glass had cut his forehead, and a trickle of blood ran down his temple. Fresh water stains dotted his black trench coat. He had probably never looked so pathetic in his entire life. The confusion in his eyes only deepened. “Elara, you’re not supposed to be like this.” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “And how am I supposed to be? Should Elara forever be the weakling you speak of, letting you and Lila walk all over her without a peep? Should she always be your docile, obedient little wife, forced to watch you flirt with your mistress and swallow her pain? Should she just accept all the abuse you dish out? Go to hell. No one is going to coddle you forever. I’m not your mother!” Matt stumbled out of the room, looking completely lost. Suddenly, a dull ache throbbed in my chest. I realized it was the original Elara’s lingering heartbreak. Don’t hurt for him anymore, I thought. He’s not worth it. 2 Ultimately, Lila was detained for 15 days for assault. The fact that she avoided criminal charges was likely due to some backroom maneuvering by Matt. The day after I called the police, I hired a lawyer and had the divorce papers drawn up, making sure our marital assets were divided clearly and fairly. I never understood the heroines in those angsty billionaire novels. Why did they always insist on leaving with nothing? What was this noble act of self-sacrifice all about? You’ve been abused mentally and physically. When you finally get a divorce, taking your share of the marital property is the bare minimum you’re owed. I hadn’t even billed the bastard for emotional damages! Unfortunately, the divorce process wasn’t going smoothly. Matt stubbornly refused to sign the papers. After several heated arguments, he sent in his mother—my mother-in-law—to persuade me. Mrs. Lennon, dressed in an expensive Chanel suit, took an elegant sip of her coffee before speaking. “I know Matt was in the wrong. But in wealthy families, it’s common for couples to have their own lives. Marriage is often just for show. Your decision to call the police made things very ugly. If the Lennon Corporation hadn’t suppressed the story, it would have been a city-wide scandal. You were being terribly immature.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. This family was a cesspool of toxicity. I wasn’t about to play nice. I picked up my own cup of coffee and, without a word, flung its contents squarely in her face. “Ahhhhh!!!” Her composure shattered. Brown liquid stained her perfectly coiffed hair and dripped down her priceless suit. “Elara! Are you insane?” “Yes, I am! Driven insane by you and your shameless family! Your son cheats on his wife and gets his own child killed, and you have the nerve to tell me to just let it go? Are you even human?” “You—!” “‘You’ what? You raised a son and failed to teach him basic decency, letting him grow into the degenerate he is today. He cheats on his wife and kills his unborn child. You think you, as his mother, bear no responsibility for the crooked path he’s on?” “I—” “‘I’ what? It’s easy for you to talk about couples having their own lives. Did you forget how you threw a fit—crying, screaming, threatening to jump off a bridge—when my father-in-law was alive and keeping a starlet as his mistress? You’re a master of holding others to impossible standards while letting yourself off the hook! If you’re so damn magnanimous, why didn’t you arrange a few concubines for your own husband back then?” “He—!” “‘He’ what? Let me make this crystal clear: I am getting this divorce. Our shared assets will be divided strictly according to the law, and you won’t cheat me out of a single penny. The fact that I’m not suing your disgusting family for emotional damages is a testament to my kindness!” Mrs. Lennon’s face darkened, her eyes glinting with malice. She was ready to teach me a lesson. “Guards!” she boomed. “Take this insolent woman to the basement! I’m going to teach her some manners!” ? Right. I’d forgotten. This old hag used to constantly abuse and gaslight the original Elara. Under the guise of teaching her “rules,” she’d lock the poor girl in the basement to “reflect,” torturing her both physically and mentally. False imprisonment, huh? Let’s see about that. I whipped out my phone and dialed the now-familiar number—911. “I’m at the Lennon mansion on the hill, in the back garden! My mother-in-law is trying to imprison me against my will! Officers, help!” Mrs. Lennon stared at me, her face a mask of disbelief. “What are you doing?” I gave her a chilling smile. “Giving you a little taste of what a civilized society feels like.” The police were, as always, incredibly efficient. When they arrived, the lead officer’s gaze flickered between me and Mrs. Lennon, his expression a mixture of exasperation and pity. “You again.” I scurried behind him for protection. “Yes, me again! This old woman is my mother-in-law! She’s trying to lock me in the basement to stop me from divorcing her cheating son!” The officer frowned at Mrs. Lennon, who was now at a complete loss for words. “I… I was just trying to scare her…” “Bullshit! If I hadn’t been quick enough to call you, her guards would have dragged me down there by now!” I pulled out my phone and played an audio file at full volume. “I have a recording, officer!” Mrs. Lennon: “…” Thank God I had anticipated this old bat would pull something shady. I’d started recording the moment I stepped foot in this mansion. The audio captured everything perfectly: her twisted logic, her attempts to manipulate me, and her furious command to the guards when her brainwashing failed. The officer listened to the entire recording, his expression grim. His cold gaze fell on Mrs. Lennon. “This is a society of laws, madam. Do you think you’re some kind of local tyrant? Unlawful detention is a serious crime!” All the fight went out of her. “But… I didn’t actually do anything…” “Making threats is also illegal!” For the next fifteen minutes, Mrs. Lennon, with her ruined hair, smeared makeup, and coffee-stained Chanel suit, stood with her head bowed as the officer gave her a stern lecture on civics. I knew that without any actual harm done, they couldn’t arrest her. But seeing her get a lesson in the law was satisfaction enough. As I left the mansion with the police, the lead officer looked at me with a heavy, sympathetic gaze. “You’re going through hell. Stay strong.” “…Thank you, officer. I have a feeling I might be needing your help again soon. My apologies in advance.” Watching the patrol car drive away, I couldn’t help but marvel, “You gotta love the public services in this country!” 3 Matt continued to drag his feet on the divorce, but I wasn’t the only one getting antsy. Lila was like a cat on a hot tin roof, finding new ways to harass me every few days. Too bad for her, I wasn’t the original Elara. I wasn’t going to be her punching bag. She tried releasing a venomous snake near my apartment, hoping it would bite me. Unfortunately for her, I had a thousand contingency plans. My new place was rigged with even more cameras, which captured the entire incident. I calmly called the police. “Yes, it’s me again. Lila tried to have me killed with a snake.” She launched an online smear campaign, hiring trolls to paint me as a homewrecker. They doxxed me, leaking my private address and photos, unleashing a torrent of online abuse. What could I do? I called the police. “Officer, I’ve been doxxed and harassed online. It’s taking a severe toll on my mental health. I think I’m developing severe depression from the trauma!” And so, Lila found herself back in a holding cell for another 15 days. But even with her gone, I had no peace. Matt started following me around like a ghost, a truly unwelcome presence. “What the hell do you want?” I finally cornered him in a coffee shop, my patience completely gone. Matt looked like he’d lost weight. I couldn’t tell if it was from the anger of his once-obedient wife suddenly growing a spine, or the sorrow of discovering his “one true love” was rotten to the core. After I’d called the cops on his mother, he’d called me, absolutely livid, accusing me of disrespecting my elders. I had reamed him out in eight different languages over the phone. He then began giving me the silent treatment, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It wasn’t until Lila’s second arrest for the snake incident that he decided to unilaterally end our cold war. The man was certifiably insane. He stared silently at his coffee. “I was wrong about you before. I never thought Lila was capable of such things. I apologize.” “Okay, accepted. Anything else? If not, I’m leaving.” His eyes were slightly red as he looked at me, a searching expression on his face. “Elara… why do I feel like you’ve changed so much?” Here we go again. I rolled my eyes. “Changed? You mean because I’m no longer your doormat? Is that what you can’t get used to?” A strained smile touched his lips. “You’ve changed… you don’t love me anymore.” Now it was my turn to be silent. I no longer felt the original Elara’s heartache. Perhaps losing the child, coupled with Matt’s betrayal, had finally shattered whatever feelings she had left for him. I nodded solemnly. “You’re right about that.” His expression turned pathetic. “Why?” ??? Why? ??? “You’re seriously asking me why? You’re a married man who couldn’t keep his hands off another woman, living out some tragic ‘lost love’ fantasy. Have you lost your mind? Your precious ‘one true love’ killed your unborn child! And now that you see she’s not so pure after all, you come crawling back to me asking why? It’s because you broke her damn heart, that’s why!” “You have eyes, but you can’t see a thing! Is that a tumor on your neck instead of a head? Do you have no capacity for rational thought? All you do is open your mouth and ask stupid questions! Try some self-reflection for a change instead of interrogating others!” Matt: “…” The verbal beatdown felt good. I didn’t know or care how he felt. I grabbed my bag and stood up to leave. Just before I walked out, I turned back to him. “Sign the divorce papers soon. Otherwise, my next step is to sue.” As expected, Matt was as stubborn as a mule. Another half a month passed. Lila was released from custody, and he still refused to sign. Fine. I spent a small fortune hiring the best divorce lawyer in the city and filed a lawsuit. While waiting for the court date, I avoided Matt like the plague. I couldn’t stand his bizarre logic or his pathetic attempts at feigning affection. It was nauseating. Finally, the day of the hearing arrived. In court, my lawyer presented all the evidence of Lila’s harassment. She also showed the court text logs from the original Elara’s phone, revealing years of Matt’s cold indifference, his mother’s degrading and belittling comments, and the provocative photos and videos Lila had sent to taunt her. “The defendant, Mr. Matt Lennon, had a weak emotional foundation with the plaintiff. He was consistently indifferent to her well-being, failing to fulfill his responsibilities and duties as a husband. He maintained an emotional entanglement with Ms. Lila throughout the marriage, failing to remain faithful. It was Mr. Lennon’s tacit approval that enabled Ms. Lila to escalate her campaign of psychological torment against my client. This culminated in Ms. Lila pushing my client down a flight of stairs, causing a miscarriage. Undeterred, she later attempted to poison my client with a venomous snake. Both incidents are corroborated by police reports and body camera footage from the local precinct. This marriage has caused my client, Ms. Elara Lennon, immense pain and suffering, inflicting deep trauma upon her both physically and mentally. The defendant, Mr. Lennon, is the at-fault party in this marriage. We request that the court grant an immediate divorce!” I secretly gave my lawyer a thumbs-up. Worth every penny. In the end, the court ruled in my favor, granting the divorce and dividing the marital assets equitably. The moment I stepped out of the courthouse, the sun felt brighter, my spirit lighter than it had in ages. Matt stumbled out after me, trying to grab my hand. I sidestepped him easily. “Excuse me. We are no longer married. Please refrain from touching me, or I will file a harassment complaint.” He looked lost, his voice pleading. “I’m sorry. I never knew Lila sent you those things. But the photos… they were fake! Nothing ever happened between us!” I stared at him, baffled. “And how is that my problem?” “Elara, you…” His voice broke. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. I realize now… I think I’m in love with you. I just didn’t see it before. What I felt for Lila was just nostalgia for a past that was long gone. I…” My face twisted in horror. “Whoa, stop right there! Don’t make this weird, ex-hubby!” A desolate look shadowed his handsome features. “I regret everything. I regret not cherishing you. You have every right to hate me, to resent me. Elara, I promise, I will do everything I can to make it up to you!” I was already halfway down the street. As far as making it up to me went, a bigger share of the assets would have been a good start. 4 I assumed Matt’s dramatic declaration outside the courthouse was just empty words, but it turned out he was serious. He started appearing everywhere in my life. Fresh roses were delivered daily. Trendy jewelry from luxury brands would mysteriously appear on my doorstep. He even had gourmet breakfasts sent over every morning, tirelessly performing what he thought were acts of profound love. I’ll admit, it was becoming a nuisance. Since I was determined not to go back, accepting his gifts was out of the question. It was a matter of principle. So, every morning, I fed his expensive breakfasts to the stray cats and dogs in the neighborhood. They were delighted. Matt may have paid for it, but the good karma was all mine. The daily bouquets of flowers were always fresh and fragrant, but I couldn’t keep them. I stuck them in the public flowerbeds along the street, doing my part for city beautification. The expensive jewelry, however, was a problem. After some thought, I hired a courier to deliver it all to his mother’s mansion on the hill. I heard she fainted from rage several times, cursing Matt for being such a spineless fool. I no longer felt any emotional feedback from the original Elara. She had truly let go. As much as I used to curse her for being a pushover, being kind-hearted isn’t a crime. She was just a tragic woman caught in a terrible story. I had taken over her body, and with it, I hoped I could change her fate—our fate. Matt’s relentless pursuit was getting on my last nerve. One day, after a shopping trip, he was tailing me again. I finally snapped and dialed that all-too-familiar number. “Officer, I’m being stalked.” Matt: “…” When the police arrived, they found Matt squatting dejectedly by a lamppost. The officer’s face was as dark as a storm cloud. “Are you kidding me?” Matt looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. “I’m just trying to win back my ex-wife.” The officer’s response was swift and righteous. “First of all, where was this energy before? Second, there’s a fine line between ‘winning her back’ and harassment, and you, sir, have crossed it!” After a lengthy mediation session with the police, Matt promised to stop using stalking and other alarming methods to “win me back.” Before leaving, the officer clapped me on the shoulder. “I hope you find your peace soon,” he said, his voice heavy with sincerity. I nearly burst into tears. Finally, someone who gets it! Matt watched me from a distance, a desolate figure. “Elara,” he called out, “can I ask you one question?” “Go ahead.” “Are you really Elara?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385837”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the new dating show set, I’d just drawn the same number as my boyfriend, Lilyan, when a sweet-faced starlet snatched my card. “Looks like you’re my partner now,” she cooed to him. I moved to take it back, but my eyes caught the live comments: 【Our girl is making a move! So cute!】 【Sienna, move! Let our girl stand next to him!】 【Ugh, write Sienna off! We want Lily and Lilyan together!】 Lilyan took the card and returned it to me. “Haven’t you heard ‘first come, first served’?” he said coldly. The chat exploded with anger towards him and me. I turned to the starlet, my voice calm. “Security. Get her off my set.” 1 Lily froze. So did the live comments. 【What a manipulative bitch! Sienna’s pulling strings just to steal Lilyan from our girl! Does she have no shame?】 【This is what happens when you date a controlling monster. Poor Lilyan, he must be suffering so much with her!】 “I have a contract to be on this show! You can’t just kick me off!” Lily’s chin jutted out defiantly. The chat feed erupted in laughter. 【Yesss, that fighting spirit is so hot! Go, Lily, go! Take down that wicked witch!】 So now I was the wicked witch, was I? A cold smirk touched my lips. “I can. Because the director answers to me.” Just as I said it, the director scurried over, his expression panicked, ready to escort her away. Lily’s face went pale. Her eyes darted to Lilyan. “Lilyan…” she whispered, her voice trembling. He just stared back, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t seem to understand why this budding starlet was so fixated on him. He turned away, ignoring her completely. 【You’ll regret this, Lilyan!! One day you’ll see how amazing she is!】 【Our girl is so brave! I wouldn’t even have the guts to ask for a celebrity’s autograph, and she just goes for it!】 【That’s why she’s a warrior for love! How else could she melt the ice king’s heart? That snake Sienna doesn’t deserve him!】 Later, during a break, the director approached me, wringing his hands. “Ms. Vance,” he began, his voice dripping with apology, “I’ve already reprimanded Lily for her behavior. She was completely out of line.” He leaned in closer. “But… she was placed here by him. You see my position…” I frowned. “Him?” The director nodded grimly. I pinched the bridge of my nose, a headache beginning to form. “Keep her on a tight leash. If she pulls another stunt like that, I don’t care who he is. I want her gone. Permanently.” “Understood! Absolutely!” He bowed his way out of my trailer. “Wait!” I called after him. “Did the air-freighted package arrive?” “It did, it did! I’ll take you to it right now!” 2 Lilyan and I had kept our relationship under wraps. This show was supposed to be the warm-up for our official debut as a couple. And today, of all days, was his birthday. Lilyan was meticulous about his image. Three months ago, I’d commissioned a one-of-a-kind shirt for him from a legendary brand—a house that once tailored for Napoleon’s own family. It was designed in a vintage European style, a piece of art. But as I walked onto the set, the live comments once again flooded my vision, obscuring everything else. 【OMG! Lily, are you trying to kill him with that look? What man could resist that?!】 【My little vixen! I’d die for you!】 【Lilyan is one lucky bastard…】 There, in the middle of the set, stood Lily. She was swimming in a large man’s dress shirt. The sleeves were so long they swallowed her hands, dangling uselessly at her sides. But the collar had been crudely cut away, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her chest. When she saw Lilyan and me approaching, her eyes skipped right over me and locked onto him. She stuck out her tongue playfully. “Oops,” she giggled. “I think I opened the wrong package…” 【Hahaha, our girl’s little scheme. She knows how to get her man~】 【She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. If only I were that brave! Go, Lily, crush that bitch Sienna!】 【Only the closest people get to open your packages! Lilyan will be begging you to open his from now on~】 【Um… didn’t the other woman, Sienna, custom order that shirt? I remember reading she stayed up for nights personally working on the design…】 【So what if she did? A homewrecker is a homewrecker, no matter how hard she tries!】 The director shot me a look of pure terror. I said nothing. I walked straight up to her and—crack. The sound of my palm connecting with her cheek echoed through the silent studio. The live chat went nuclear. 【HOLY SHIT! THAT BITCH SIENNA DARED TO HIT OUR GIRL!】 Lily crumpled to the floor, a perfect picture of shocked innocence. 【STOP! SIENNA, YOU FUCKING SNAKE, YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS! THE DAY LILYAN COMES CRAWLING BACK TO LILY WILL BE THE DAY YOU DIE!】 Crawling back? Hardly. Not this man. A cruel smile spread across my face as I raised my hand to strike her again. But this time, a strong hand caught my wrist, stopping me mid-air. I whipped my head around to face Lilyan, my brow furrowed. “Feeling sorry for her?” He gently took my hand in his, his thumb stroking the reddened skin of my palm. He brought it to his lips and blew softly on it. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he murmured, his voice low. Then, his eyes, now glacial, fell upon the girl on the floor. “Let me deal with trash like this.” He shot a look at the director, then wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me away, not sparing Lily another glance. The chat feed was a torrent of fury. 【I’m so pissed I could scream! I know he’s going to grovel for her later, but watching him hurt her like this right now is infuriating!】 【I’m crying. Lilyan, you don’t deserve her fierce, beautiful love!!】 【Calm down, everyone. He’s so devoted to her later in the story. This snake Sienna will be gone soon enough!】 【I can stomach this… for the sweet moments to come…】 I stopped in my tracks. I’m not the kind of person who judges someone based on anonymous whispers and online chatter. But Lily… I couldn’t stand her. And these comments… I loathed them even more. I turned back. “Get Lily kicked off this show!” The comment feed, predictably, lost its collective mind. 【AAAAAAAAH I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! CAN WE PLEASE JUST KILL SIENNA OFF NOW? I NEED MY SWEET ROMANCE FIX!】 【I fucking hate homewreckers! You’re the one who ruined everything, and you have the nerve to act like the victim?!】 【I’m just waiting for the day Sienna gets what she deserves.】 A cold smile played on my lips. They didn’t know me at all. I was born to defy expectations. They wanted to see me and Lilyan torn apart. They wanted to see me fall from grace. Well, I was about to give them the disappointment of a lifetime. 3 Lilyan posted on his social media. It was a picture of the shirt Lily had been wearing, the collar clearly showing a jagged cut. The caption was short and brutal: 【Girlfriend’s gift was ruined. Pissed.】 The internet collectively short-circuited. 【Girlfriend? Wait! Since when are Sienna and the superstar actor together?!】 【Oooooh, so that’s why he suddenly agreed to a reality dating show! He brought his partner along!!】 【So the paparazzi leaks about Lily cutting up Sienna’s shirt were real? HOLY SHIT! Okay, Lily might have more followers, but trying to steal someone’s man is just disgusting!】 I scrolled through the comments, my mood lifting with every post. The live comment feed on my screen, however, was in a full-blown panic. They raged, calling the online fans blind and stupid for not seeing that I was the homewrecker. I scoffed. People who only felt brave enough to ship couples from behind a screen always thought they had the right to dictate reality. With Lilyan leading the charge, public opinion on Lily turned viciously. Her private messages were flooded daily with creative insults aimed at her entire family tree. The internet shows no mercy to a perceived homewrecker. Lily vanished from the public eye. A few days later, the director found me, looking hesitant. I took one look at his face and knew. “This is about Lily, isn’t it?” He nodded frantically. “That gentleman heard you kicked her off the show. He came to see me personally. Said he’s willing to add another ten million to the investment if we can just… smooth things over.” I frowned. “Why is he so damn persistent?” The director forced a smile. “He also said that in all future collaborations with you, Ms. Vance, he’s willing to offer a thirty percent profit share.” That got my attention. After a moment of thought, I nodded. “Fine. Lily can stay. And I’ll handle the PR nightmare.” The director’s eyes lit up. “But,” I added, my tone sharp, “she is benched. She does not participate in any of the show’s interactive segments.” “Understood! Absolutely!” 4 When the new location was ready, I arrived for the first day of shooting, impeccably dressed and made up. But as I stepped onto the set, I saw that all the cameras that were supposed to be on me had been moved. In my place, standing beside Lilyan as his partner, was Lily. I marched over to the director, my voice tight with fury. “Who authorized this change? I told you she was not to participate in the filming!” “I did.” A familiar voice came from behind me. I turned. Lily was clinging to Lilyan’s arm, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Lilyan…” I breathed, my disbelief warring with my anger. “Sienna, I’ve made a decision,” he said, his voice flat. “For this show, Lily will be my partner.” He paused, his gaze cold. “You… should just go home.” I thought I’d misheard him. From the day I first discovered him at the drama academy, funding his rise to superstardom, he had never, not once, dared to speak to me like this. “Why?” The word escaped my lips, a mix of genuine curiosity and shock. He scowled, his expression bordering on disgust. “You brought this on yourself.” He thrust a tablet into my hands. A video was playing. And as I watched, I finally understood what had happened to Lilyan. 5 I had agreed to let Lily stay, but only on the condition that she stay off-camera. After being exposed for wearing my gift, she was blacklisted online. No one would hire her. So, she ended up staying with the crew, doing odd jobs as a production assistant. But a film set is a place where people kiss up and kick down. Many nights, she was left behind long after everyone else, tasked with packing up all the equipment by herself. One such night, as she was finishing up alone, she ran into Lilyan, who had also wrapped late. She was crouched on the floor, and when she looked up, her eyes met his. He stopped, surprised. Her eyes instantly welled with tears, and she scrambled to her feet and ran off. Lilyan just frowned and walked away. From behind a stack of equipment, she peeked out, wiping a tear from her eye, her lips pressed into a tight line. After that, Lilyan started receiving videos from Lily’s friends. Videos of Lily being berated by low-level crew members. Lily on her hands and knees, scrubbing the studio floor. Even one where the set painters “accidentally” splattered paint all over her, and she wasn’t allowed to wash it off. Lilyan’s only reply was a single, dismissive text: 【Her methods are pathetic.】 He’d clawed his way to the top of this industry; he could see through a transparent ploy for pity from a mile away. But then came the final video. In it, Lily was being held down on a bed, her clothes torn, while seven or eight phone cameras were pointed at her. “Stop pretending!” a man’s voice sneered. “You’ve done bed scenes before, haven’t you? Who do you think you are, some big star? You should be grateful for any role you can get! Nobody wants to hire you now!” The damsel in distress act. It’s a classic for a reason. A man’s instinct to play the hero. Lilyan stormed in and lifted her off the bed. Lily collapsed into his arms, sobbing, while the crew members stood by, frozen in terror. And in that moment, he could only think of one person who could be pulling the strings behind the scenes. Me. The live comment feed was ecstatic: 【YES! He finally sees what a monster she is! Now you know how much you fucked up, don’t you, Lilyan?】 【Even though Sienna had nothing to do with what happened to our girl, seeing her get put in her place is SO satisfying.】 【Serves her right for trying to ruin their love!】 I turned my gaze to the director. “He’s an idiot. Are you one too?” The director avoided my eyes. “Ms. Vance, I know you’re a successful businesswoman, but in our world, an A-list actor carries more weight than you do. Besides, Mr. Croft has his own production company.” I laughed out loud. He clearly had no idea that I was the one who funded that company. Lilyan was talented, no doubt. In just a few years, he’d become a major player in the industry. But when people find sudden success, they often start to believe they’re invincible. I looked at Lilyan. He seemed to think he finally had the power to defy me. I didn’t argue. I just grabbed my car keys and turned to leave. “In that case, I wish you all a successful shoot.” Lilyan frowned, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. I walked out to my convertible, but when I tried to unlock it, nothing happened. “So sorry, darling.” Lily sauntered out from the studio, dangling a new key fob. “Lilyan already gave this car to me.”

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The day I told my boyfriend I was pregnant, his grandmother slammed her head into a wall and died in front of me, taking a secret to her grave. Everyone who learned that secret is now dead. First, it was Harry’s father. Then his mother. Finally, Harry himself swallowed a bottle of pills right before my eyes. The media descended like vultures, digging for any scrap of information. The police hauled me in for questioning again and again. An army of online strangers savaged me day and night. They all wanted to know the secret. They said I’d cursed Harry’s family, that I’d killed them all just to keep it for myself. I never defended myself. I remained silent. Until the day of Harry’s funeral, when I saw a certain man in the crowd. In that moment, I rested a hand on my swollen belly, my heart as still and cold as a winter lake. It was time for my child and me to die, too. … 1 Harry took me home to meet his family after we found out I was pregnant. The moment his grandmother saw my rounded stomach, she let out a piercing wail and launched herself, headfirst, into the living room wall. A spiderweb of crimson bloomed across the pristine white paint. She didn’t die instantly. But the terrifying part was her eyes. They were wide open, bulging, as two streams of bloody tears seeped from the corners. Her gentle, kindly face was twisted into a mask of pure terror, as if she was staring at some unspeakable horror. The sight was grotesque, nightmarish. Harry’s mother fainted twice. His father cradled the grandmother’s broken body, his cries raw and ragged. A neighbor, drawn by the commotion, gently pointed out that the old woman was trying to speak, to leave some final words. We all fell silent, straining to hear her last whisper. In the end, only Harry’s father was close enough to understand. She told him a secret. And then her breath rattled out for the last time. The color drained from his face, his hands trembling as he clutched her body. He let out a guttural roar of despair. “She’s given us a death sentence!” His reaction sent a jolt of panic through us. His wife rushed to his side, her voice a hushed whisper. “Honey, what did she say? What was it?” He gave us all one last, deep, haunted look. Then he shoved his wife away. Before anyone could react, he followed his mother’s lead, smashing his own head against the same bloodstained wall. More blood spattered across the floorboards as he collapsed onto his mother’s corpse. His final expression was identical to hers: a rictus of absolute terror. As he lay dying, his wife begged him to hold on, screaming that the ambulance was on its way. But as he gasped out his own final words to her, her face went sheet-white. She ended the emergency call. After that, no matter who asked—not even when the police pressed her with the harshest questions—she refused to speak of the secret. After the joint funeral for the grandmother and father, Harry seemed to have aged a decade overnight. He looked at his mother, his face etched with exhaustion. “What was the secret Grandma told you? Why did Dad kill himself right after he heard it?” His mother stroked an old family photo, silent tears tracing paths down her cheeks. “Stop asking. There was no secret.” “It was just a tragic accident. Don’t overthink it.” Harry’s voice was raw, cracking with grief. “That was my father! That was the grandmother who raised me! I watched them kill themselves! How can I do nothing?” “At the very least, you have to tell me why!” My heart fractured for him. I tried to reason with his mother. “Ma’am, they died right in front of us. How can you expect us to just move on?” “Besides,” I pressed, “they died just from knowing the secret. You heard it too. We’re worried about you…” I knew my words were blunt, but fear was overriding my manners. Before I could finish, she cut me off, her voice like ice. She hurled the family photo to the floor, the glass shattering. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the look she gave me was filled with a chilling hatred. “I told you, there is no secret!” “You two couldn’t wait, could you? Getting pregnant before you were married! You shamed them to death! Is that the answer you want?!” The mention of their deaths brought fresh tears, and it was obvious her own grief was a raw, open wound. But just as quickly, she reined it in, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice flat. “I’m not myself. I shouldn’t have said that.” “His grandmother and father both had underlying health issues. The economy has been hard these last few years… maybe they just didn’t want to be a burden.” “That’s enough,” she finished, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Suicide is a shameful thing. We will not speak of this again.” Her resolve was like a steel door slamming shut. No matter how much we pleaded, she refused to say another word on the subject. But a cold dread settled in my gut. My hand, resting on my belly, wouldn’t stop trembling. I needed to know why his grandmother, who had always been so fond of me, had chosen to die the instant she learned I was carrying her great-grandchild. I needed to know her secret. 2 Harry was even more desperate for the secret than I was. A week after his father’s death, his mother drank herself into a stupor, stumbling around the house in a haze of grief and alcohol. Harry saw his chance. He cornered her, pressing her for the secret. Her words were slurred, barely audible. Harry had to lean in close to hear. But as he listened, his face contorted into the same mask of terror I’d seen on his father and grandmother. Watching him, a fresh wave of fear washed over me. I rushed to his side. “What is it? What’s the secret? Why do you and your mom look so terrified?” He didn’t answer. He just stood there, shell-shocked, holding his mother up. Frantic, I moved to lean in myself, to hear it from her own lips. But Harry’s reaction stunned me. Tears streamed from his eyes, a look of pure, helpless horror on his face. And then, he shoved me. He physically pushed me away from his mother. “What are you doing?” I cried out, stumbling back. “I’m pregnant! Why would you push me?” “What did she say? Why are you hiding it from me?” But no matter how I pleaded, he wouldn’t tell me. He just looked at me, his eyes filled with a sorrow so deep it felt bottomless. “Clara,” he whispered, “I pray you never have to know this secret.” I stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend what kind of secret could drive an entire family to this level of despair. Why did it fill them with such terror? Why did it make his father choose death on the spot? Just then, his mother seemed to sober up. Her eyes, empty and hollow, drifted toward us. A bitter, broken smile touched her lips. Slowly, it grew, until she was laughing—a wild, unhinged sound that filled the room. She grabbed Harry’s hand, tears of mirth and madness streaming down her face. “You wanted to know, son. You insisted. Well, now you get to live with the pain. Just like me.” I felt like I was breaking apart. How had things gone so wrong? I had arrived at their home full of joy, gifts in hand, ready to meet the family of the man I loved. I thought this was the start of an even happier chapter. Harry was a wonderful man—calm, kind, and stable. In three years, we had never had a single fight. His family was just like him: gentle people. A sweet grandmother, loving parents who spoke to each other in soft tones. He’d told me so much about me, said they were all excited to finally meet the woman he loved. His grandmother, especially, had adored me from afar, sending Harry money to buy me gifts, mailing me local delicacies, and always telling him to cherish me. But it all shattered the moment I said, “I’m pregnant.” His grandmother died. His father followed. His mother was a ghost of her former self, and Harry… Harry was now a stranger, silent and haunted by a darkness I couldn’t see. It felt like the entire world had turned against us. In the weary days that followed, one question echoed in my mind: What was the grandmother’s secret? I wasn’t the only one wondering. After the neighbors posted the story online, it went viral. The next day, bowing to public pressure, the police were back at our door. 3 Harry’s mother had gone to stay with her family. Harry was at work. That left only me to answer the questions. The lead detective was tactful. “Sometimes, with the elderly, there can be… cognitive issues, things you might not notice. Perhaps she was more confused than you realized.” I thought back over every interaction, every phone call with his grandmother over the past three years. I shook my head firmly. “Impossible. She had a full check-up twice a year. The last one was two weeks ago. She was perfectly healthy. No signs of dementia, nothing.” He looked disappointed. “And Mr. Croft’s father?” he tried again. “We heard he was having some trouble at work, that there were rumors of layoffs. Is it possible he felt ashamed? Perhaps the grandmother’s last words were that she was killing herself so as not to be a burden, and in his shame, he followed?” I had watched them die. I had seen the resolve in their eyes as they turned from living, breathing people into corpses. “No,” I said, my voice shaking. “They wouldn’t kill themselves for such a ridiculous reason. Absolutely not.” The police offered other theories, but I shot them all down. Realizing they weren’t going to get anything from me, they prepared to leave. After all, these were confirmed suicides, not homicides. They were only here because of the media frenzy. But just as they were leaving, the junior detective, a man named Miles, rushed back in. He looked at me, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Can you get ahold of your boyfriend?” “Your mother-in-law… I mean, Harry’s mother. She jumped from a building.” I didn’t believe him. The world tilted, my legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor. The air in my lungs turned to stone. They couldn’t reach Harry, so they took me with them. The area below the high-rise was already cordoned off, surrounded by a crowd of morbidly curious onlookers. When they saw me being helped out of the police car, phones immediately came up, cameras flashing. “That’s the daughter-in-law, right? The one whose father-in-law and grandmother-in-law both died the day she showed up!” “What a jinx. It’s like she drove them all to their deaths!” “And now the mother, too. What about her son and the pregnant girl? How are they supposed to live with this?” The words washed over me, but my heart was too numb to feel them. I knew his mother was devastated, but I never imagined she would take her own life. An officer gently pulled me aside. “The fall… it was from the thirtieth floor. The body is… it’s a mess. You shouldn’t look. Where is your boyfriend?” He leaned in closer. “A witness said that right before she jumped, she was muttering the word ‘secret’ over and over. We think it’s the same secret that drove his father and grandmother to suicide!” Despite his warnings, I pushed past the white sheets covering the scene. I saw the shattered remains of Harry’s mother. Thirty stories. There was no surviving that. She knew that. And she still jumped. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I fell to my knees on the cold pavement and wept. I had only come to meet my boyfriend’s family, like any normal person would. Instead, I had become a witness to their horrific, sequential deaths. I didn’t understand. What secret could be so powerful that it made death seem like the only escape? Detective Miles looked at me with a flicker of pity. “Clara, I know this is overwhelming, but you need to pull yourself together. The pattern is clear now. Everyone who knows the secret dies.” He locked his eyes on mine. “What is that secret? Do you know? Does your boyfriend know?” 4 My mind was a fog of grief, incapable of forming a coherent thought. I could only shake my head, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know. I knew nothing. I wanted to know the secret more than they did. I needed to know what could have made Harry’s kind grandmother kill herself the second she heard I was pregnant. Just then, Harry arrived, rushing through the crowd. He was like a still, dark lake. He looked at the wreckage of his only remaining family member and absorbed the horror with a terrifying calm. He looked at the mangled body on the ground, then turned to the police. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “I know the secret.” “My grandmother, my father, and my mother all killed themselves because of it.” “Now, I’m the only one who knows.” “But the time isn’t right. I won’t be revealing it. Not yet.” Harry handled his mother’s funeral arrangements with that same eerie composure, and then he took me home. I still didn’t know the secret, but a horrifying suspicion was beginning to form: it had something to do with my pregnancy. I was terrified. Terrified that Harry, the last keeper of the secret, would follow his family’s path. I lived in a state of constant dread, my hands always on my growing belly, praying that I wouldn’t wake up one day to find him gone. But he was surprisingly calm. He went to work, he took meticulous care of me, he made plans for the baby. Slowly, my anxiety began to recede. I thought maybe he had found a way to live with the grief. The only strange thing was that he started spending hours locked in his study, the sound of his keyboard clicking away late into the night. I had a feeling he was documenting the secret, but whenever I asked, he would deny it. I had no choice but to pretend I didn’t notice. I thought we could continue like that, in our fragile peace. But then one day, without any warning, Harry started a live stream. He stared into the camera, his expression grim, and announced that the time had come. He was going to reveal the secret to the world. As the viewer count skyrocketed past one hundred thousand, he turned to me, his hand gripping mine tightly. “Clara,” he said, his voice gentle. “I know you’ve been desperate to know Grandma’s secret.” “The time is now. I’m going to tell you everything.” He pulled me into a hug, his hand caressing my belly one last time. Then he leaned in and whispered the secret into my ear… By the time I understood what he was saying, it was too late. Tears streamed down my face before my brain could even process the words. My eyes widened in horror, a violent, full-body tremor seizing me. I opened my mouth to scream, to question him, but he was already pushing me away, tears glistening in his own eyes. He stumbled backward toward the door, and then a torrent of crimson erupted from his lips. A primal fear shot through me. I scrambled toward him, half crawling, half falling. “Harry! Don’t die! Please, don’t die! You can’t leave me and the baby alone!” But it was too late. Blood poured from his mouth in an unending stream. Within seconds, the light left his eyes. Just like his grandmother, his father, and his mother, he chose to end his life in front of me, leaving me alone with the despair. I held my belly and watched the last breath leave his body. I begged him to stay, but he was already gone. I cried until I had no tears left, kneeling on the floor like a broken doll. The grief was a physical weight, crushing me, but beneath it was something else, something colder: terror. Because the secret Harry had told me was more horrifying than I could ever have imagined. No wonder… no wonder they all chose to die. Now I knew the secret. And my child and I had to die too.

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In the grand finale of the story, the hero and heroine both lost their memories of each other and started new lives. The hero fell in love with me—a background character, a nobody. We got married, had a child, and built a life. Six years later, on an ordinary Tuesday, my husband suddenly remembered everything. Glowing text floated across my vision like a glitched livestream: [ OMG, is this the sequel to that angsty romance novel? ] [ Finally! The leads got their memories back! Happy Ending incoming! ] [ But wait, they’re both married to other people now. What happens? ] [ Easy. They divorce the extras and get back together. True love wins! ] That evening, I was walking down the street, dazed and heartbroken, when I locked eyes with a man who looked as wrecked as I felt. He was holding a cigarette in one hand, a phone in the other. The voice on the other end of the line was loud enough for me to hear: “Sir, your wife says she has her memory back. She wants a divorce to find her first love. Are you going to agree?” I froze in my tracks. 1 According to the floating comments only I could see, I was just an NPC—a background character in a tragic romance novel. After the leads lost their memories, the male lead, Ethan, fell for me. Meanwhile, the female lead, Chloe, married the “Second Male Lead.” Standing on the busy sidewalk, I stared at the neon text hovering in the air until my eyes burned. I wandered aimlessly until I bumped into him. The man standing in the shadows of the alleyway looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. As I passed him, the voice on his phone cut through the evening noise. “Sir, the Madam says the marriage was a sham. She remembers her soulmate now. She wants out. Are you signing the papers?” The man lowered his eyes, the ember of his cigarette glowing and fading. I couldn’t see his expression clearly. I stopped. This sounded exactly like the “Second Male Lead” the comments were talking about. I didn’t want to be caught staring, so I ducked behind a brick pillar, heart pounding. I needed to hear his answer. If he refused to divorce her, then Chloe couldn’t come looking for my husband, Ethan. And maybe… just maybe, Ethan would stay with me. It was a pathetic, desperate hope. I waited, but the man didn’t speak. Curiosity got the better of me. I peeked around the corner. A pair of polished Italian leather shoes stepped into my field of vision. The man looked down at me, phone still in hand, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. “Enjoying the show, miss?” I jumped. The voice on his phone was still rambling: “Sir, if your grandmother finds out you’re divorced and there’s still no great-grandson, she might actually have a heart attack…” He frowned, clearly annoyed, and hung up without a word. I stood there, mortified. “I… I’m sorry.” He stared at me for two seconds, then lost interest. He turned to leave. Panic surged. I didn’t get the answer I needed. I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He stopped, forced to look back at me with cold, impatient eyes. I knew I was crossing a line, but I had to know. “So… will you agree to the divorce?” He paused, genuinely surprised that a stranger would have the audacity to ask. He yanked his arm away, sneering. “Lady, you really need to mind your own business.” He walked away without looking back. 2 I took a deep breath before opening the front door. “Mommy! You’re home!” My five-year-old daughter, Lily, slammed into my legs. Ethan walked out of the kitchen carrying a steaming dish, looking as perfect as ever. “You’re back? Wash up, dinner’s ready.” Lily ran to him. “Daddy, let me help!” Ethan smiled, bending down to her level. “No need, sweetie. Go show Mommy to the sink.” “Okay!” She grabbed my hand. Everything felt normal. Ethan picked Lily up from school, cooked dinner, and asked about my day. That night, he pulled me into his arms like he always did, whispering “Goodnight.” It felt like any other day. Like he was still the man who loved me, not the protagonist of some epic tragedy waiting to leave. The floating text, however, was screaming: [ This is so heartbreaking… The leads made eye contact on the street today. They both remembered. ] [ But they just walked past each other! It hurts! ] [ Well, it’s been six years. They have families now. ] [ I don’t buy it. They loved each other too much to just let go. ] [ The Male Lead is so calm though… maybe he loves the extra now? Six years is a long time. ] I lay still in Ethan’s arms, staring at the dark ceiling. Does he love me more? I didn’t know. All I knew was that Ethan had forgotten today was our sixth wedding anniversary. 3 I must have dozed off. I woke up in the middle of the night and reached for the warm body beside me. Cold sheets. I sat up. Ethan was gone. The floating comments were going berserk: [ AHHH! I knew it! They haven’t moved on! ] [ Chloe is so bold, she came straight to his house! ] [ The angst is killing me! ] It was autumn, and a light rain was falling. I walked to the window and looked down. There, standing under the streetlamp in the rain, was a woman looking at Ethan with a mix of defiance and desperation. I couldn’t hear them, but the comments provided the subtitles. Tears—or maybe rain—streamed down her face. “Ethan, is this really it for us?” My husband remained silent. She grabbed his hand. “I was supposed to marry you! I was supposed to have your children! She took my life, Ethan! Everything is wrong!” Ethan’s back was to me. I couldn’t see his face. After a long silence, he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Don’t catch a cold,” he said simply. She gripped the lapels of the coat, staring at him. Then, suddenly, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Ethan flinched, like he wanted to push her away. But she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, mixing rain and tears. “We used to do this all the time… are you sure you want to push me away?” Ethan stood rigid. But he didn’t push her away. He didn’t dodge. [ My heart is breaking… please just be together already! ] [ It’s so sad. They lost six years because of amnesia. ] [ Fate is so cruel to them. ] I watched my husband kiss another woman in our driveway. Their story was tragic, sure. A grand romance interrupted. But as I stood by the window, numb, I wondered: What about me? From twenty-two to twenty-eight. My youth. The six years I gave him. What happens to the background character when the story ends? 4 Just then, a mechanical voice echoed in my head. It called itself “The System.” [ Greetings, Host. I manage this world. ] [ Would you be willing to accept a mission? Success comes with a substantial financial reward. ] I blinked. “What mission?” [ To satisfy reader demand, we need to push the Male and Female Leads toward a Happy Ending. ] [ You need to facilitate their reunion. ] I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “You want me to personally push my husband into another woman’s arms? Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel?” The System paused. Then, a rush of data flooded my brain. I saw it all. Ethan and Chloe’s history. From their first meeting to their passionate romance. They fought the world to be together. It was epic. It was undeniable. [ No one forgets a love like that, ] the System said coolly. [ They belong together. ] I understood. Even if I didn’t help, Ethan would eventually leave me. Their love was “destiny.” I was just a placeholder. I was just speeding up the inevitable. [ If you succeed, you will receive 50 million dollars. Enough to ensure you and your daughter never worry about money again. ] I looked down at the driveway. Ethan and Chloe were still standing there. I thought about the last six years. He was a good husband. A good father. But remembering those six years took me only five minutes. He was a great partner—provided he didn’t have his memories. I took a deep breath. “Fine. What do I have to do?” [ First objective: Convince the Second Male Lead to divorce the Female Lead. ]

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I, in a fit of belated lust, started sponsoring a broke college kid. He’d swear, tongue in my mouth, that he was a pro who’d never fall for his sugar daddy. I’d push his face away: “Fine. You catch feelings, you’re a dog.” Later, he found out he looked just like my first love. He buried his face in my chest, eyes red, and whimpered, “Can’t a dog… can’t a dog bite here?” “Just love me, okay? Stop thinking about him. I can’t take it.” 1 The first time I saw Leo, I knew he’d be the death of me. He was just… electric. He was a server at the gay bar I owned. White shirt, black vest, slim waist, long legs. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at. He knew exactly how devastating he was, and his rejections were a performance art. A younger guy, blushing bright red, asked for his number. Leo replied with a perfectly straight face: “Dude, I’m all show, no go. Don’t waste your time.” I leaned against the bar, laughing. My laugh must have been too loud, because he glanced over at me. His eyes were cold and bright. Tsk. Even better. Ricky, my bartender, hooked a finger in the silver chain around my neck, pulling my attention back. “See something you like, Julian?” he purred. “Too bad. Leo doesn’t like men.” I raised an eyebrow, waiting. Ricky leaned in, his breath warm on my ear. “I already asked around. He’s only working here because he’s desperate for cash. We pay double what any other campus job does. Plus, he’s got a sweet mouth and a hard heart. He clears a fortune in tips.” “Is that so?” I swirled the bourbon in my glass, an idea taking root. “A sweet mouth, huh?” 2 I, Julian Thorne, have few virtues. But I am rich, and I am patient. When I see something I want, I get it. I had him looked into. The file was delivered to my office. Just a few thin pages, but they made me wince. Leo Sterling, 20. A computer science prodigy at NYU. His grandmother was in the hospital, long-term care. His father was a world-class scumbag. Ran off with his high school sweetheart years ago, leaving Leo to care for his mother, who had been paralyzed. The dad’s parting words were, “I’ve done my duty. Who the hell wants to be a nursemaid for a vegetable?” Leo sold the house, borrowed from everyone he knew, and somehow kept his grandmother’s heart beating. He was juggling medical debt and loans, going to classes, and working two jobs, ending his nights at my bar. My chest felt a little tight. If I had been in his shoes, I couldn’t have done half as well. In my mind, the script was supposed to go like this: I, the wealthy patron, offer to sponsor him. He, full of pride, curses me out and tells me to go to hell. Then, I swoop in, pay off his nana’s medical debt, and he, for the sake of his family, reluctantly and humiliatingly agrees to be mine. Thus begins our angsty, push-pull sugar daddy arrangement. That’s how it’s supposed to work. However, the reality was this: Leo stood in front of my desk, placed a folder neatly in front of me, and said in a clear voice, “Sir, this is my full health report, including recent bloodwork. All my vitals are excellent.” Me: “…” Before I could reset my expression, he continued. “Additionally, before we sign, may I review the specific terms of the arrangement? I’d like to understand the obligations, the confidentiality clause, and the termination conditions.” I managed a dry, “Oh.” I pushed the contract my assistant had drafted across the desk. He picked it up and just stood there, reading it. Line by line. I stared at his perfect profile, my throat suddenly dry. What was happening? I was supposed to be the one in charge. Why did I feel like the rookie while he was the seasoned negotiator? I cleared my throat. “Leo, do you understand what you’ll be… required to do?” He looked up. “Yes, I do.” He recited, as if reading a job description: “Kiss you, touch you, hold you, serve you, satisfy you in bed. Be on call, maintain loyalty, and provide physical and emotional value as needed.” “Stop, stop!” My face was burning. “You get it.” “The terms are acceptable, sir. I just have one request. I’d like specific days guaranteed for visiting my grandmother to be written into the contract, with priority execution.” I nodded. “Fine. That’s reasonable.” We signed. Just like that, Leo was mine. I got him in to see the best specialists in the city and set up a new treatment plan for his nana. He sat in the consultation room, perfectly still, answering the doctor’s questions with quiet precision. He was like a model student. I smiled. He was actually… kind of adorable. I knew he was brilliant. If life hadn’t buried him in debt, I never would have had a chance. 3 That weekend, I was dead asleep when my doorbell rang. A single, patient chime, once every minute. I have a violent hatred of being woken up. I stomped downstairs, ready to murder someone, and ripped the door open— Leo. He was standing there quietly with a small rolling suitcase. The morning light hit him just right, making him look unfairly beautiful. He saw my thunderous expression, pressed his lips together, and said softly, “Sir. I’m here to report for duty.” All my anger vanished. “Oh.” My brain hadn’t booted up yet. I just moved aside and let him in. Then, to my utter shock, he reached down, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, and pulled it over his head. My eyes widened. Sculpted pecs, a tight six-pack, and a sharp V-cut disappearing into his jeans. I was instantly awake. And my nose felt warm. “W-wait, honey,” I stammered. “It’s 8 AM… you don’t have to clock in that fast.” He paused, shirt in hand. He looked at me, confused. Then he bent down and pulled something out of his suitcase. An apron. With a cartoon bear on it. He tied it around his bare torso, hiding the scenery that had just sent my blood pressure skyrocketing. “I did some research yesterday,” he said, all business. “A high-quality companion wears this when preparing breakfast for their patron.” Me: “…” I stared at the apron strings cutting into the muscles of his back. “You’re…” I finally managed, “You’re very diligent. Great work ethic.” He nodded, accepting the compliment. “Ms. Evans said you skip breakfast. That’s unhealthy. My cooking is decent. I’ll make you noodles.” He went into the kitchen and started prepping. I stumbled through my morning routine, then leaned against the kitchen doorframe, my eyes glued to him. That waist. Those legs. He was in the middle of chopping scallions when he suddenly stopped, turned around, and caught me staring. A faint blush crept up his ears. “Sir… would you like to touch?” Me: “…Huh?” He repeated, patiently, “You’ve been looking for a while. You can touch. It’s your right, as per the agreement. The tactile experience should be… acceptable.” He added, as if worried I’d decline, “I showered before I came.” I was floored. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one making the moves? Wasn’t he supposed to be shy? Why was he teaching me how to be a sugar daddy? 4 I dropped the pretense. I walked over, wrapped my arms around his waist, and untied the apron’s bow. The feeling of his skin—hot, firm, smooth—made me want to howl. I ran my hands over his sides, giving a little squeeze. Perfect. Leo’s body tensed. He gently took my wandering hand, lowered his head, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against my fingertips. My entire nervous system short-circuited. “Did you take a class on this? You’re too good.” He shook his head. “No. I just want you to like me.” Who could possibly resist that? I was pressed against him, and I felt… something… hard. My eyes shot down. Damn. College kids really are full of energy. Leo immediately clamped his legs together, covering himself with one hand. “Sorry, sir,” he mumbled, his face red. “I can’t control it.” “What’s for breakfast?” I thought, my throat tight. I cleared my throat. “Nothing to apologize for. Come on.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. He followed, his breathing heavy. “What about the noodles, sir?” “Later. Business first.” He tumbled me onto the bed, both of us fumbling and eager. He slid his hands under my shirt, his skin scalding hot. He leaned in, smelling like soap, aiming for my mouth. I turned my head. It was pure reflex. I’d had partners before. Sex was easy. Kissing was not. Kissing felt… intimate. More real than skin on skin. Leo froze. He understood immediately. He didn’t try for my lips again. He just lowered his head, his hot mouth and sharp teeth finding their way to my collarbone, my chest. He was slow. Deliberate. I felt a shiver run down my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair. “Leo…” I rasped, not used to this kind of teasing. He looked up, his eyes clouded with arousal. “Sir… is here off-limits, too?” 5 I slapped his ass. “Alright, turn over.” He didn’t move. His eyes, wide and innocent, were glassy with moisture. He looked at me, then pressed his body against mine. I glanced down again. Good god. That “all packaging, no product” line was the biggest lie he’d ever told. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his hot face in my neck. “Sir… please, let me? I promise I’ll be good.” I stammered. “What? No. I’ve never…” He nuzzled my neck, looking pathetic. “I studied all night. I have the theory down. Just let me try?” He pulled back, his face inches from mine, and started peppering my cheeks and jaw with soft, pleading kisses. I’m only human. He knew he was winning. He whispered right in my ear, “I’ll be gentle, sir. I’ll make you feel good. Please, Julian.” My self-control evaporated. I felt like a decadent king, hopelessly corrupted by beauty. I squeezed my eyes shut, resigned to my fate. “Fine. You can try.” And so, Leo put his night of “studying” into practice. It was… not bad. He was clumsy, but incredibly patient and attentive. He kept watching my face, whispering. “Are you watching me, sir?” “You’re covering your eyes. Are you shy?” “You’re so responsive, Julian. You keep biting me.” I was mortified. “Can you please shut up?” He pouted. “Oh. I learned this part special. I thought… I thought it would be hot.” It was hot, but that wasn’t the point. I couldn’t take it. I planted my foot on his chest to push him away. He slowed down, his gaze dropping to the silver chain around my neck. The one with the ring on it. He stared at it for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, very gently, he tucked the chain behind my neck, hiding the ring in my hair. I was half-lost in sensation, and his pause was annoying. “What’s wrong? Don’t stop.” … He started again, with a vengeance. His lips found my heart and stayed there, a long, drawn-out torment. I tensed, my toes curling in his grasp. I think… I think I misjudged who was in charge here. Leo grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling into my palm. He looked at me, his face close. “Sir. Did I satisfy you?” He was too good at this. I had to admit, my heart, which I thought was dead, skipped a beat.

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I ordered a male escort at a bar. Big chest, tight ass, the whole package. In the VIP room, I eyed his handsome face, feeling a little nervous. “So… uh… you wanna, like, do a little something to relax? I’ve got the good stuff.” His expression shifted slightly. “You have stuff?” I nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! What kind do you like? Strong? Or mild?” He took a deep breath. “Give me the strong stuff.” “You got it.” Five minutes later, I kicked the VIP room door open, excited—only to find a gun pressed against my forehead the next second. The escort stared at me, eyes dark. “Suspected possession of narcotics, caught red-handed. Anything you want to say?” I stood there, clutching my prized bottle of ’82 Lafite, completely dumbfounded. “Ch-cheers?” 1 Silence. The room went dead silent. I stared at the gun. He stared at the wine. We both gritted our teeth in unison. After a solid ten seconds, he hissed through his teeth, “This is your ‘good stuff’?” I looked at him, terrified and wronged. “Of course! It’s an ’82 Lafite! Do you know how much this costs?” His handsome face twisted. “Don’t play dumb! What does wine have to do with ‘strong’ or ‘mild’?” I felt even more wronged. “Officer, have you never had a drink? Alcohol has strength, right? What else has strength?” “Here, try it!” I pushed the bottle toward him. “I’m not lying! Just take a sip, Officer, you’ll see!” “Behave!” He took a deep breath. “I ask, you answer. No nonsense.” I nodded obediently. He stared me down. “Name, occupation, purpose here. Spill it!” I pouted. “Luna Evans. College grad. Came to order a guy for fun… seriously, Officer, I’m just a civilian! Maybe I come to bars a lot, but I’m not a criminal!” “Is that so…” He narrowed his eyes. “Since you’re a regular, do you know if there’s any other substance here besides alcohol? Something strong, abused, and addictive?” I thought for two seconds, then gasped. Actually… there was. 2 Outside, the bar was chaos. I led the “escort”—Officer Leo—carefully through the crowd toward the back. “Where are we going?” He frowned. “Don’t try anything.” “I wouldn’t dare!” The gun pressed against my lower back was very convincing. “Officer, can you stop poking me? I’m scared it’ll go off.” Leo scoffed. “Behave and it won’t.” I shut up and kept walking. We bypassed the dance floor and went deep into the back corridor. At the end, I stopped in front of a black door. “This is it.” Leo’s face was grim. He gestured with his chin. “Open it.” “Okay.” “Wait.” He exhaled. “Forget it. Stand next to me. Since you reported this, I’ll try to keep you safe if things go south.” “Huh?” I scratched my head. “It shouldn’t be… that dangerous, right?” Leo was insistent. “People who deal this stuff are ruthless. They don’t care about human life.” I immediately hid behind him. “You open it.” Leo took a breath. The next second, he kicked the iron door open, gun raised. “Freeze—What the hell is this??” 3 What else could it be? The kitchen! I peeked out from behind him, relieved to see it empty. “See? Not dangerous. Not meal time, so no staff.” Leo turned green. “Are you messing with me?!” “No! I’m not!” I waved my hands frantically. “Officer, you don’t understand! This bar serves food, specifically spicy hot pot! And this hot pot… it’s unreasonably good! Like, if you don’t eat it for a day, you crave it. Two days, you go crazy. Three days, you’re climbing the walls!” “So I suspect they put something in it! Maybe that illegal stuff you mentioned!” My suspicion wasn’t baseless. My friend used to work here part-time and saw the chef adding unknown powder to the broth! I looked at Leo’s face. He looked sick. “Officer… did you order the hot pot too?” “I ordered you—” He closed his eyes, then opened them. “Fine. Search. Let’s see what ‘contraband’ you find.” I rubbed my hands together, eager. I lifted the lid of the nearest chest freezer— And froze. “Well? Find your special ingredient?” Leo sneered. “Tell me, what kind of harmful additive is it?” My hand shook. The lid slammed open, revealing the twisted, frozen human face inside. “Harmful additive… no…” “But there is… a body…” 4 Twenty minutes later, the dark bar was blazing with lights. Police sirens wailed outside. I sat in a booth, wrapped in Leo’s jacket, shaking like a leaf. “You okay?” Leo walked in, lips pressed into a thin line. “Sorry. Didn’t expect that.” I waved a weak hand. He put something on the table. Hot milk tea and pastries. “Sugar helps with shock,” he muttered, rubbing his nose. “Apology for being rash earlier.” I tried to stick the straw in, but my hands were trembling too hard to open the wrapper. Leo sighed, did it for me, and held the cup to my lips. “Drink.” I took a sip. Another officer walked in. “Detective Thorne, you done?” So his name was Leo Thorne. Leo made sure I was holding the cup steady before turning. “What is it?” “Victim ID confirmed. It’s the bar owner.” “Primary crime scene is the kitchen. We found blood residue.” I knew that face in the freezer. Hearing it confirmed made my stomach drop. Leo noticed. “Sick?” I bit my lip. “No. Just… I knew the owner pretty well.” He patted my shoulder. The other officer spoke up. “Ms. Evans, can you elaborate on ‘pretty well’?” Leo frowned. “Meaning?” The officer held up an evidence bag. “We found this red bracelet on the victim. Staff say the last time they saw it, it was on Ms. Evans.” “Ms. Evans, care to explain why your property was on the dead body?” 5 WTF? That old guy stole my bracelet?? Wait. I touched my wrist. “My bracelet is right here!” Leo grabbed my wrist. “Let me see.” Comparing the two, the difference was obvious. “Yours has a gold ingot charm. The victim’s has a peach blossom,” Leo noted. “Significance?” I looked closely. Same braiding style. “I got this at the temple uptown. I prayed for wealth. He probably prayed for love.” “Wait,” I frowned. “The owner has a girlfriend. Long-term. Why would he pray for love?” “Maybe they’re a couple’s set,” Leo suggested. I shook my head. “No, these are wishing bracelets. Once the wish is granted, you take them off.” Leo looked at my wrist again. “So your gold ingot…” I blushed. “Shut up!” Yeah, I hadn’t gotten rich yet. Don’t rub it in. Leo suppressed a smile and told the officer to contact the girlfriend. “Any other clues?” Leo asked. “There’s no camera in the kitchen. The owner was a person of interest in our investigation. His death complicates things.” “Person of interest?” I blinked. “Related to the illegal stuff?” Leo grunted. “Yes. So think. And stop talking about hot pot.” I realized something weird. “The owner was a massive germaphobe.” Leo paused. “And?” “So why die in the kitchen?” I asked. “Why would a germaphobe go into a greasy kitchen?” 6 As far as I knew, the owner never went back there. He stuck to his office or the bar. Leo was stumped too. Driving me home, he was still thinking. “Green light,” I nudged him. He hit the gas. “Still thinking?” I yawned. “Work-life balance, Officer.” He glanced at me. “What are you gonna do at home? Sleep?” “What else? It’s almost dawn.” He poked my side. “Don’t sleep. Stay awake.” “Hey!” I swatted his hand. “Don’t sleep for eight hours after a shock. Bad for the nerves.” “Really?” I blinked. “So what do I do?” I looked him up and down. “Need some stimulation to keep me awake, Officer~” His eyes darkened. “What kind of stimulation?” I looked at his chest. “Obviously—” My phone rang. Mood killer. Leo exhaled slowly. He answered his own phone. His face went serious. He spun the wheel and U-turned. “Where are we going?” He looked at me. “You wanted stimulation? Here it is.” “We got a tip. Someone saw a suspect. The description… sounds a lot like you.”

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Chapter 1 When I was six, a volunteer teacher came to our village. During the first class, my older sister, Lily, told me to draw a picture in my notebook—a drawing of our mother, chained in the corner of her room. The next day, a fleet of cars with flashing red and blue lights surrounded our house. Police officers subdued my screaming father, then smashed the rusty lock on my mother’s bedroom door. I watched as Mom grabbed Lily’s hand and ran toward a man in an expensive suit. Her face was glowing with a smile I had never seen before. Dad lay on the ground in a pool of blood, his eyes closed. Terrified, I begged Mom to save him. She shoved me away. “Don’t call me Mom! If it wasn’t for Lily, I never would have given birth to a monster like you!” I froze. Lily, didn’t you say that if I gave the drawing to the teacher, Mom would finally hug me? … Everything happening in front of me was nothing like what I had imagined. The man in the suit, who held my mother tightly, stared at me with cold, deadly eyes. He looked like someone important, someone powerful. After kicking my unconscious father a few more times, he walked toward me. His large hand blocked out the sunlight. I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling. “Wait…” It was Mom’s voice. She tugged at the man’s sleeve and looked at me with a complicated expression. My heart leaped. Lily was right! I gave the drawing to the teacher, and now Mom liked me. But then Lily pulled away from Mom’s embrace, pointed a shaking finger at me, and screamed through her tears. “Mommy, it’s her! That kidnapper loved her the most!” “He gave her all the good food first! He called her his little treasure!” “Her kidnapper dad made us suffer so much! Why aren’t we punishing her?” Mom’s body stiffened. The look in her eyes changed instantly. The man, hearing this, looked at me like he wanted to kill me. Bang! He kicked me to the ground. The hard sole of his shoe slammed into my chest. It felt like my insides were being rearranged. “Mommy… Mommy…” I cried out for her, but she just held Lily tighter, never looking back at me again. Hearing me call her “Mommy” only seemed to make the man angrier. He started kicking and punching my curled-up body. The pain was suffocating. My vision blurred. Mommy, didn’t you like me just a second ago? Why don’t you like me anymore? A police officer finally pulled the man off me, saving my life. My father, covered in blood, was handcuffed and taken away in a car with flashing lights. As he passed me, he smiled faintly, mumbling something I couldn’t hear. I knew the man in the silver bracelets wasn’t coming back. Mom and Lily were getting ready to leave too. Panicked, I wailed and grabbed Mom’s leg, kneeling on the dirt. “Mommy, don’t leave me! I’ll be good, I promise!” Mom stopped. But Lily started crying again. “Mommy, I’m scared! I don’t want to see her!” Although none of them wanted to take me, the police insisted. Reluctantly, they put me in the car. The seat was soft, but I was too scared to move. I was terrified my dirty clothes would stain it, and they would throw me out. I started feeling dizzy. When the car took a sharp turn, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and fell against Lily. Lily burst into tears. “You bullied me before, and now you’re bullying me again! I hate you! I never want to see you again!” In the end, they found a thick rope. One end was tied to my wrist, the other to the back of the car. They dragged me behind the car like a piece of trash. By the time the car stopped, I was a bloody mess. Chapter 2 I spent a month in the hospital. Every time the doctor came in, he looked at me with pity. Mom never came. Not once. Only Lily visited a few times. Each time, she wore a beautiful princess dress I had never seen before, holding fancy snacks. She sat by my bed, crunching on chips, bragging about her new life. “Daisy, Daddy bought me a huge toy castle. It’s bigger than our old house in the village.” “Mommy took me to eat French food. Escargot is so delicious. You’ve probably never even heard of it, have you?” Her words stung, like little needles in my heart. But I never said a word. I just watched her quietly. After I recovered, I was taken to their home. It was a mansion, but my room was in the attic. Small, stuffy, with only a tiny skylight. I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, let alone go to school. Every day after school, Lily would come to my door in her pristine uniform, carrying a cute backpack, just to show off. “Daisy, today in art class, the teacher taught us how to paint. It was so fun.” “Daisy, my classmates invited me to the amusement park this weekend. Mommy already said yes.” I wanted to go to school too. But from the whispers of the maids, I vaguely understood my background. Until one day, Lily dragged me out of the attic and brought me to Mom. “Mommy, let Daisy go to school too.” “It was the kidnapper’s fault, not hers. We shouldn’t take it out on Daisy.” After Lily begged repeatedly, Mom finally relented. “Fine. Go if you want. Just don’t cause trouble.” Mom didn’t even look at me. She dropped those cold words and walked away. Even though Mom still didn’t like me, I could finally go to school. I was enrolled in the same elite private school as Lily. I thought this was the start of a new life. But on my first day, my desk was covered in black ink. My new textbooks were torn to shreds, confetti scattered across the floor. I didn’t dare make a sound. I cleaned it up silently, alone. During recess, a group of rich kids cornered me in the bathroom. “Hillbilly trash! Do you even know how to use a toilet this fancy?” “Look at her clothes. So tacky!” “I heard her dad was a kidnapper. Scum like that shouldn’t have kids!” A heavy-set girl grabbed my hair and shoved my head into the toilet bowl. I struggled, but I was too weak. I choked on the yellow water. Just then, Lily appeared. She frowned and shouted, “Stop bullying my sister!” She pulled me out of the toilet. “My sister just came from the countryside. She doesn’t know how to use a flush toilet. Don’t laugh at her.” “Mom and Dad brought her back. Even though… even though she doesn’t really look like us, please, for my sake, stop bullying her, okay?” But after saying this, she covered her nose and looked at me with disgust. “Why do you smell so bad? Did you not shower again?” After her “defense,” the group laughed even harder. “Oh, so she’s the charity case the family took in!” “Don’t worry, Lily. For your sake, we’ll take good care of her!” After school, I went home filthy. When Mom saw me, she frowned in disgust. “Just like that animal. Only knows how to cause trouble.” I said nothing. I dragged my exhausted body back to the attic. Locking the door, I pulled out some paper and a pencil from under my bed. I had found them in the trash. Lying on the floor, I drew a little girl. She was standing on the edge of a cliff. Behind her, countless invisible hands were pushing her into the abyss. Chapter 3 I quickly learned the rules of survival at school. No matter how they insulted me or pranked me, I kept a poker face. They wouldn’t let me study, so I pretended not to listen in class. But back in the attic at night, I studied bit by bit. Until one day, Lily tore all my notes into pieces. “Daisy, Mommy isn’t going to pay for your college anyway. This trash takes up too much space. I cleaned it up for you. You’re welcome.” In that moment, something inside me snapped. I pushed her. Hard. She didn’t expect me to fight back. She fell backward, hitting her forehead against the corner of the table. Blood trickled down. “Ah!” Mom and the servants rushed in immediately. Lily cried and threw herself into Mom’s arms. “Mommy, Daisy hit me! She said I’m a bad person and she wants to kick me out of the house!” Mom looked at the cut on Lily’s forehead, then at me. Her eyes turned vicious. “You ungrateful little wolf! Lily treats you so well, and you dare to hit her!” Mom raised her hand and slapped me across the face. My “father,” Mr. Sterling, rushed in too. “You touched Lily? I’ll kill you!” He grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall. Pain exploded in my skull. Lily hid behind Mom, her eyes red. “Daddy, don’t blame Daisy. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have touched her things…” “What things does she have? A bastard child, eating my food, living in my house, and daring to bully my daughter!” He looked around, grabbed a leather belt from the wall. The belt gleamed in the light. Mom watched without a flicker of emotion, only hugging Lily tighter. Crack! The belt lashed across my back. My clothes tore instantly. Burning pain made me curl into a ball. “It wasn’t me…” I could barely speak through the pain, but I tried. “She… she tore up my notes…” “Still lying! Still framing Lily!” Crack! Crack! Crack! The belt hit my back, my legs. Everywhere was tearing pain. I looked up at Mom in the doorway, begging silently. She finally spoke, but not to save me. “Just like her kidnapper father. Full of lies. Born bad.” Mr. Sterling threw the belt down and started kicking me. Chest, stomach, back… every kick felt like my organs were rupturing. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My vision blurred. Before I closed my eyes, I saw Lily peek out from Mom’s embrace. A faint, triumphant smile curled the corner of her lips. Chapter 4 In middle school, Lily’s grandmother returned from abroad. That night, the family held a grand dinner. At the table, Grandma met Lily and me for the first time. Lily was poised and charming, calling “Grandma” sweetly with every breath. Grandma responded politely but kept glancing at me in the corner. Halfway through dinner, Grandma wanted to walk in the garden. As we passed through the foyer, Lily, walking behind me, suddenly stuck out her foot. I tripped and fell forward. Crash! Grandma’s favorite antique vase shattered on the floor. Lily screamed immediately. “Ah! Daisy! How could you be so clumsy! That was Grandma’s favorite vase!” Mom’s face darkened instantly. She stormed over, raising her hand to slap me. But the slap never landed. A hand pulled me behind them. Grandma stared coldly at Lily. “Don’t play these cheap tricks in front of me.” Lily’s face went pale. Mom froze. After that, my life improved slightly. At least Lily stopped openly tormenting me. Although Mom still didn’t like me, I understood. I focused on my studies. I couldn’t change my birth, but I wanted to change my fate. My grades soared. I even skipped a grade and became Lily’s classmate. She was jealous. She started sabotaging me in every way possible. In the final mock exam before college entrance tests, I ranked first in the grade again. As long as I maintained this, I could start a new life. But the day after the exam, Lily reported me to the homeroom teacher. “Teacher, Daisy cheated. Here is the evidence!” Looking at the slip of paper in her hand, I trembled with rage. “You tore that from my scratch paper!” “Lily, why are you doing this to me!” Just then, Mom rushed in. Without asking a single question, she slapped me across the face. “Have you no shame!” “You’re useless yourself, so you have to frame your sister! You’re just like your kidnapper father—rotten to the core!” Mr. Sterling followed Mom in, pointing at my nose and cursing. “You have disgraced the Sterling family!” “From today on, don’t step foot in our house!” The principal walked in. “Mr. Sterling, I think we need to investigate further. Daisy has always been a top student. She has no reason to cheat.” Before Mr. Sterling could speak, Mom cut in. “She’s bad to the bone. A pathological liar. Maybe she cheated on every exam to get first place.” “I didn’t cheat! The note is fake! Check the surveillance cameras!” I screamed. “Shut up! A kidnapper’s child getting an education is already a miracle. If we say you cheated, you cheated.” Under Mr. Sterling’s pressure, the principal adjusted his glasses and avoided my gaze. “Um… Daisy Sterling, senior class one. Due to misconduct and cheating, you are hereby expelled and disqualified from the college entrance exam.” My world collapsed in that instant. I knelt and begged the principal to check the cameras, to prove my innocence. But he just glanced at Mr. Sterling and shook his head slightly at me. Walking out of the office, Mom and Dad flanked Lily protectively, leaving me far behind. At the stairwell corner, Lily deliberately slowed down. She leaned close to my ear and whispered, so only I could hear: “Daisy, you can’t beat me. In your next life, make sure you’re born into a better family.” I looked at her smug face. Years of grievance exploded in a split second. I used all my strength and shoved her toward the railing. “Ah—!” Lily screamed as she fell from the fourth floor. I climbed onto the railing and looked down at the two shocked parents. “Mom, I’m giving this life back to you. In the next life, I never want to know you.” Wind roared in my ears. I saw the mother I drew in my notebook, the one chained up. She reached out to me, wearing the gentle smile I had imagined a thousand times. This time, she would definitely hug me. Lily and I were rushed to the hospital. Mom screamed and cried for Lily, completely ignoring me, equally covered in blood, on the other gurney. Mr. Sterling hovered anxiously around Lily. Chaos in the ER. “Patient has lost too much blood! We need a transfusion! She’s Type B, blood bank is low!” “Take mine! I’m her father!” Mr. Sterling rolled up his sleeve frantically. The doctor shook his head. “No, you’re Type A. Not a match.” Both parents froze. “Impossible? I’m O, he’s A. How can Lily be B?” Just then, a nurse ran over with my lab results. “Doctor, this girl is Type A. We can use her blood!” Silence fell over the ER. At that moment, several police officers walked in. “Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling. We are from the City PD.” “The kidnapper, Zhou Yong, just revealed a major secret to bargain for medical parole.” “He confessed that years ago in the hospital, he swapped his biological daughter with yours.”

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Everyone noticed that I stopped chasing after Liam Vance. Including Liam himself. After school, he stopped me, his face cold. “I’m only going to explain what happened that day once. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” “Sarah got cornered by some drunk guys. I went to help her.” “I forgot to tell you. That was my bad.” That day was his birthday. He was off playing hero for Sarah, while I was left stranded at the amusement park for the entire day. Turns out, Liam thought I was just throwing a tantrum about it. I shook my head lightly. “It’s okay.” Then, under his darkening gaze, I quietly walked past him and left. He didn’t know that because he abandoned me again that day, the System declared my mission a failure. In one month, I will be “erased” and sent back to the real world. And this body will be returned to its original owner. 1 When the amusement park staff reminded me for the third time that they were closing, the System sighed. “Chloe, go home.” “Liam isn’t coming. He’s with Sarah right now. He’s completely forgotten that he promised to meet you here.” I stomped my aching feet, picked up the cake box, and turned to leave. “Okay.” The excitement I felt this morning had been ground down to nothing. All that was left was a strange calmness. Even when the System announced my failure. “One month from now, you will be in a car accident.” “This is the penalty for failing the mission.” “While you are critically injured and in a coma, I will send you back to your original world. As for this body, the original Chloe Hart will take over again.” The System vanished after delivering the news. I pulled out my phone to call an Uber, only to realize the battery was dead. A second later, the screen went black. I didn’t have any cash on me for a cab. Resigned, I started walking home along the highway. Even though failing the mission was expected, a profound exhaustion seeped into my bones. Every step felt incredibly heavy. 2 The walk from the amusement park to my house passed by the school. It was Saturday, so the campus should have been deserted. But on a bench near the school gates sat two people I knew all too well. Sarah was holding a Choco Pie with a single matchstick stuck in it. “I’m so sorry, Liam…” “I just found out it was your birthday. I didn’t have time to get a real cake.” “This is all I have. I hope you don’t mind…” The boy opposite her had fresh cuts on his cheek. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, partially hidden by his messy hair, giving him a rugged, bad-boy look. He didn’t seem to find the Choco Pie ridiculous. He even took out a lighter and lit the match for her. “No.” “I think it’s great.” Liam’s voice was cold as usual, but there was a hint of softness in it now. I couldn’t help but think back to yesterday evening. In the home ec room, I showed Liam the birthday cake I had perfected after several attempts. “Does it look good?” He leaned against the door, arms crossed. He glanced at the blisters on my hand from the oven and scoffed. “Looking at your hand is enough to kill my appetite.” I felt awkward and tried to hide my hand in my sleeve. Liam looked annoyed. He walked over and dragged me to the pharmacy. “Why hide it?” “Don’t you have a brain? Put some ointment on it.” Even though he looked impatient, his movements were gentle as he applied the medicine. I gathered my courage and asked again, “Liam, do you like the cake?” He stared at the blisters on my hand, frowning. “It’s ugly as hell.” At the time, the System comforted me: “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad because you hurt yourself making it. He says one thing but means another. He actually cares about you.” My thoughts returned to the present. I stood quietly across the street. Watching Liam comfort Sarah, telling her he didn’t mind the makeshift cake. I realized something. Even someone as twisted as Liam, when he truly likes someone, can be gentle. He softens his edges, protects her pride, and can’t bear to see her disappointed. I don’t know what Liam feels for me. But it definitely isn’t like. 3 I looked away, intending to leave. Sarah noticed me. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Liam turned around. His gaze fell on the cake box in my hand, and he froze. It seemed he finally remembered his promise to me. Sarah saw the cake too and realized. “You were looking for Liam, right?” “I heard you were planning to celebrate his birthday at the amusement park today.” “I’m so sorry. Because of me, you got stood up.” Her apology was perfunctory. As if she was used to Liam ditching me for her countless times. And me? I never did anything about it. At most, I’d sulk for a day or two before chasing after him again like nothing happened. I shook my head, denying her first statement. “I was just passing by.” Liam stared at me, his expression tense. Sarah smiled brightly. Clearly, she thought I was just trying to save face. She didn’t press it, just said: “Well, since you brought the cake anyway.” “We can still celebrate.” I dodged her hand when she reached for the box and shook my head. “It’s gone bad. Can’t eat it.” I pressed my lips together and whispered a goodbye. “Um… it’s late. I’m going home.” “Bye.” Sarah was stunned. Usually, I would seize any opportunity to stick to Liam like glue. Now, I was voluntarily giving them space. I walked a few steps with the cake, then remembered something. I turned back and asked Sarah, embarrassed. “Can I borrow twenty bucks? My phone died, I can’t call an Uber.” “I’ll take you.” Liam spoke almost immediately after I finished. He spoke fast, his voice tight. I acted like I didn’t hear him. Sarah hesitated. “Sure…” She dug out the cash and handed it to me. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back on Monday.” I took the money and left. From start to finish, I didn’t look at Liam once. 4 Maybe because I knew I was going home soon, I dreamt of my old life that night. It was recess. I was crying while reading a novel. My desk mate was confused. “Aren’t you reading a rom-com?” I sobbed intermittently. “Not for the second male lead, Liam Vance.” “His life is just too tragic.” “He loved the heroine, Sarah, since high school. But because he was poor and insecure, he never confessed, even when he became a business tycoon in the end. He just silently protected her.” “The worst part is, he was bullied relentlessly in high school by the villainess, Chloe Hart.” My desk mate handed me a tissue. “You’re Chloe, she’s Chloe Hart. Similar names, huh?” I slammed the table indignantly. “It’s a disgrace to my name!” But that very night, I transmigrated into the body of Chloe Hart, the character I hated most. The System’s mission: Make Liam Vance fall in love with you. This year, Chloe was the person he hated most. Difficulty: SSS Class. The System watched me jumping for joy. “It’s hell mode difficulty, why are you so happy?” “Because I can change Liam’s tragic youth!” I jumped up and down, my bangs bouncing. “I’m going to give him the best of everything and make sure he never suffers again.” The System had no hope for my success. It said it was just waiting for the time limit to expire so it could send me back. I spent two years trying to melt Liam’s heart. Eventually, his affection level rose so high the System thought victory was in sight. But in the end, I failed. Honestly, I have no right to blame Liam. He loved Sarah. It was only natural for him to prioritize her and give her everything. I only realized this recently, after I stopped liking him. 5 I stood in the wind all day yesterday. Unsurprisingly, I woke up with a cold the next morning. After taking some medicine, I got a call from one of Liam’s friends. “Chloe, Liam is planning to make up for his birthday today.” “We’re at the amusement park you guys agreed on. You coming?” Liam never cared about birthdays. I understood this was his way of compensating me for yesterday. My voice was thick with congestion. “You guys have fun.” “I’m going to the library today.” The guy moved the phone away from his ear. “Liam, Chloe says she’s not coming.” A few seconds later. I heard a short, mocking laugh from the other end. “Whatever.” His attitude wasn’t unexpected. Liam never had much patience for me. This was already the maximum amount of softness he could offer. I couldn’t help but cough twice. The guy noticed and spoke into the phone again. “Chloe, are you sick?” “Well, if you’re not coming, you’re not coming.” “Rest up.” Before hanging up, I heard him ask: “Hey, where’s Liam going?” Someone answered: “Think he went to the pharmacy.” “What for? Didn’t he just change his bandages?” “Dunno.”

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It was right after freshman orientation health screenings. During military-style drill practice (a classic hazing ritual for college freshmen), a girl from my class, Chloe, ran onto the field and dropped to her knees in front of the entire student body. She was sobbing, clinging to my leg. “My dad has the same rare blood type as you—RH-negative! Please, you have to save him! He has aplastic anemia and needs a transfusion right now!” Then came the kicker. “If you save him… I’ll do anything. We can go to a hotel tonight!” I was horrified and immediately shut down the “hotel” talk. But, being a decent person, I eventually went to the hospital and donated blood for her father. That was my first mistake. After that, I became her dad’s personal blood bank. If I refused, she’d find a crowded spot on campus, pull out a banner, fall to her knees, and scream until I caved. I gave blood again and again until I developed severe anemia and multiple complications. Finally, I put my foot down. She flipped out. “You’re a grown man! What’s a little blood? Women lose blood every month and we’re fine!” “You promised! Backing out now means you’re murdering my father!” When I still refused, she went live on social media. “He said… one night with me for one pint of blood.” She wept into the camera. “I gave him my innocence, over and over… and now he’s abandoning us while my father is dying…” I was socially executed. Canceled. Everyone looked at me like I was a monster. I tried to explain, but no one listened. Desperate to salvage my life, I begged her to stop. I even agreed to donate again. But Chloe wasn’t done. “You donate the blood, AND you pay me $150,000 for emotional damages and ‘loss of purity’!” I came from a working-class family. I didn’t have $150,000. Driven to despair, I dragged her to the bridge and jumped, taking both of us into the dark water below. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the drill field. Chloe was kneeling in front of me, tears streaming down her face, starting her performance. 1 “Liam! Please save my dad!” We had just finished a grueling 5K run. Everyone was sprawled on the grass, exhausted. Suddenly, Chloe Miller burst onto the scene, dropping to her knees in front of me, wailing. “My dad is RH-negative like you! He has aplastic anemia! He needs blood now!” “If you save him… I’ll do anything. We can go to a hotel tonight!” The crowd gasped. Whispers erupted like wildfire. Everyone gathered around to watch the drama. But I just stood there, fists clenched. I was reborn. Back to the start of the nightmare. And this tearful, fragile girl in front of me was a demon who would eventually eat me alive. 2 In my last life, after the mandatory health checkups, word got out that I had “Panda Blood”—RH-negative. People asked, “What’s the difference?” I’d shrug. “If you need blood, you can find it anywhere. If I need blood and can’t find it, I die.” Everyone would laugh awkwardly and apologize. I didn’t mind. But on the second day of drills, Chloe staged her ambush. She claimed her dad would die without me. When I refused to be drained dry, she went on TikTok Live and destroyed me. “One night for one pint.” “I gave him my body… and he tossed me aside…” I was furious. I tried to confront her, to tell her to be a human being. But she hid behind her screen, fueling the fire. I became a pariah. I screamed my innocence until my throat bled, but the internet mob didn’t care. I still had school. I had a future. So I begged her to stop. “Blood isn’t enough,” she sneered. “Pay me $150,000 for my ‘loss’.” “I never touched you!” I screamed. “Have a conscience!” “Pay up, or I dox your parents next.” Seeing her smug face, I snapped. I dragged her to the river. I choked her until she panicked, until she tried to beg. “You pushed me too far,” I hissed. “So we both die.” I took us over the edge. Now, opening my eyes again to her pleading face, I suppressed the urge to kick her. “Sorry,” I said loudly. “I’m anemic. Can’t help.” 3 Chloe looked up, eyes wide, tears stuck on her lashes. “Liam, how can you be anemic? You’re young and strong! My dad is dying! I know you’re a good person, I heard about you…” “Stop gaslighting me,” I cut her off. “I said I’m anemic. Even if your dad is dying, I can’t help.” “I’m sorry, I’m just desperate! I checked every hospital, there’s no blood!” She covered her face and sobbed. “My mom died young… my dad raised me working construction… he hasn’t even had a chance to enjoy life…” Her performance was Oscar-worthy. The crowd started softening. Someone muttered, “Donating while anemic isn’t that bad, right?” I frowned, scanning the crowd. Then another voice chimed in. “Yeah, you just get dizzy for a bit. Eat some steak, you’ll be fine.” “Liam, it’s a life. You should help.” It was a girl from my dorm building. I almost laughed. Before I could snap back, Chloe crawled forward and hugged my legs. “Liam, I’ll pay for your supplements! Blood regenerates! I really have no choice!” “For my dad’s life… I’ll give myself to you! I’ll do anything…” The crowd went wild. Some “white knight” guys stepped up. “Are you a man or not? It’s just a little blood! We’ll buy you iron pills!” “Look at her! She’s desperate! If I had Panda Blood, I’d drain myself dry for her!” I laughed coldly. “Oh really? You’re so generous. How many times have you donated? Show me your card.” “There are millions of people needing regular blood types. How many have you saved?” “Don’t be generous with my blood. Drain yourself dry first, then talk to me.” The guy shut up, shrinking back. I pulled my leg out of Chloe’s grip. “Aplastic anemia requires long-term transfusions. It’s not a one-time fix.” “You need to find a blood bank or a long-term donor contract. Otherwise, he’s dead anyway.” Chloe cried harder. “There aren’t enough RH-negative people!” “So what?” I asked. “You want to use me as a human blood bag? While I’m anemic? That’s not saving a life, that’s trading one. Is your dad’s life worth more than mine?” “I have school. I need my health. I’m not a saint, I’m a college student.” “If it was a one-time emergency, sure. I’d do it even if I passed out. But your dad needs liters, constantly. Do you understand?” I wasn’t talking to Chloe. She was a demon; she didn’t care. I was educating the crowd so they’d stop the moral kidnapping. It worked. Students started Googling the disease. Murmurs of agreement spread. I scoffed internally and turned to leave. Chloe chased after me. “Liam! If I find more donors, will you join them to save my dad?” I stopped. I turned slowly. “More donors? You sure?” Chloe’s eyes darted away. I caught the flicker of guilt. “I… I’ll try my best,” she stammered. “Please don’t say no.” I glared at her and walked away. RH-negative blood is incredibly rare. Finding a group of donors in a few days? Impossible. But less than two weeks later, she somehow found five of them. 4 Chloe took a leave of absence during drills. I thought she gave up. Ten days later, she burst into my lecture hall. She grabbed my arm. “Liam! I traveled across the country! I found five donors! Will you join the team and save my dad?” The class was shocked. Where did she find them? Chloe sobbed that she visited hundreds of hospitals to find their contact info. She dropped to her knees again. “Liam, six people is enough! Please!” She started kowtowing on the classroom floor. “Without you, my dad dies!” The class started pressuring me again. “Just do it, man. It’s good karma.” I gritted my teeth. There was definitely a trap. Someone with aplastic anemia needs matched blood, not just any RH-negative blood. And finding five random donors willing to commit? In ten days? But I couldn’t refuse outright without looking like a monster. “Where are they?” I asked. “Take me to see them.” “Who?” “The donors.” Chloe jumped up, leading me to the athletic field. It was break time; the field was packed. She was using the crowd again. Five middle-aged men walked over. One of them tried to hand me a blood test report before I even said anything. I frowned. “Why show me this? You’re not donating to me. I don’t care about your blood type.” The man turned red and coughed. Chloe jumped in. “Liam, they’re all RH-negative. As long as you agree…” “Stop.” I raised my voice so everyone could hear. “Stop with the ‘give myself to you’ garbage. First, I’m not that kind of guy. Second, I’m not interested in you. Third, have some self-respect. It’s pathetic.” The students stared. Some gave me a thumbs up. Chloe’s face twisted. She stammered, “I just didn’t want you to feel like you were getting nothing…” “If it’s too easy to get, it’s probably a scam,” I said coldly. “And I don’t want it.” I stared into her eyes. She looked away, panicking. “So… can we save my dad now?” “Not so fast. I haven’t seen the blood tests. I need to watch them get tested. I need to verify they really are RH-negative.” Chloe broke down instantly. “We can’t wait! My dad will die!” She threw herself on the ground again, screaming. “Every day is critical! I worked so hard to find five people! We can save him easily! Please!” “Liam, tell me what you want! I’ll do anything!” She was good at this. A crowd gathered. “Last time you said there weren’t enough people. Now she found them, and you’re stalling? Are you human?” “Yeah, hypocrite. Just say you don’t care because it’s not your dad.” I laughed in anger. “Are you guys brain dead?”

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My husband went to the airport to pick up his “first love,” the one who got away. Funny enough, my boyfriend was flying back into the country today, too. His first love, smiling blissfully, clung to my husband’s arm. “It’s your seventh wedding anniversary today,” she cooed. “Won’t your wife be mad that you’re picking me up?” Damian chuckled, full of indulgent affection. “Silly, she doesn’t even kn—” He stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened, locked on something in front of him. Specifically, me. I was walking straight toward him, one hand linked with a handsome man, the other holding the hand of a little girl. The little girl looked up at me and chirped, “Mommy! Are you going to eat dinner with Daddy and me today?” I beamed. “Of course!” Damian looked like he was about to explode. The System was losing its mind in my head: [ Host! This is a ‘Redemption Arc’ romance novel! What are you DOING?! ] Me: “What? A ‘Husband Redemption Arc’ is still a redemption arc, right?” 01 Damian stormed over and grabbed my arm, his voice shaking with rage. “Genevieve, who is this man?” I felt zero shame about being caught. If anything, the thrill of two-timing was exhilarating. I shook his hand off with enough force to make him stumble back. System: [ Damn, girl, you been working out? ] I lifted my chin. “Who is he? Just a friend who got back from overseas.” “And you? Why are you here? Stalking me? Or meeting your mistress?” I said the word “mistress” loudly, pointing a finger directly at Sarah. Passersby started whispering. Sarah’s face turned bright red. She tugged at Damian’s sleeve, silently begging him to defend her. But Damian was too busy drowning in disbelief, heartbreak, and anger. He pointed a shaking finger at the little girl. “And her? Why did she call you Mommy?” I pulled Mia close, letting her lean against me. “Her mother died giving birth to her. I just feel bad for the kid. I wanted to be a mother figure to her, since she doesn’t have one by blood.” “Do you really have to force me to say this in front of a child?” “Damian, I didn’t realize you were this insensitive.” He let out a bitter laugh, pointing at himself. “I’m insensitive? On our seventh anniversary, you’re out with another man, letting his kid call you Mommy, and you’re calling me insensitive?” At that moment, Julian—the man I was with—stepped forward. He looked at Damian, then at me, his expression gentle and apologetic. “I’m sorry, did I cause trouble for you?” “Maybe I should take Mia and go.” “Your husband seems… temperamental. You should probably comfort him so he doesn’t misunderstand.” Excuse me? I know a high-quality man when I see one. “Ignore him,” I said, grabbing Julian’s hand and taking Mia’s with the other. “Let’s go get dinner.” We walked away, leaving Damian standing there with red-rimmed eyes. 02 In the real world, I was a nurse-turned-nanny, exhausted and broke. All I did was leave a comment on a TikTok video: [ When is it my turn to call someone ‘Daddy’ and get free money? ] Next thing I knew, I was transmigrated into a “Redemption Arc” angst novel. I had a husband. I had money. Seems perfect, right? Except this was a “Father and Son Redemption” story. The original host (Genevieve) supported her husband when he was broke, gave birth to his son via C-section, and dedicated her life to them. But the husband, Damian, and the son, Leo, both preferred the “White Moonlight,” Sarah. Damian spent nights away with Sarah. Leo screamed that he wanted Sarah to be his mom. Eventually, the original host got fed up, left them both, and moved abroad to start a new life. The father and son then realized their mistake and groveled for forgiveness. Hence, the “Crematorium” (Redemption) Arc. System: [ The Crematorium genre is about the female lead suffering first! Not you throwing the male lead into an actual incinerator! ] I scoffed. “Isn’t a ‘Husband Redemption’ just torturing the man until he regrets everything? Just watch me work.” 03 I spent the evening with Julian and Mia. Dinner, bowling, amusement park. It was exhausting but fun. We even caught a movie before I went home. It was late. When I walked in, my ungrateful son, Leo, was running around with a water gun. Pew pew pew. Seeing me, he got excited. He aimed right at my eyes and fired. In the original story, this brat had zero respect for his mother. He treated her like an unpaid maid. He thought Sarah was his “real” mom because she let him eat junk food and run wild. I rubbed my stinging eye, rage flaring up. Just as I was about to discipline him, a sickly sweet voice interrupted. “Leo, come here! Careful, the bad person might hit you!” Leo ran to Sarah, giggling. Sarah looked at me provocatively, pretending to scold my son. “Leo, honey, don’t shoot water at strangers’ eyes, okay? Mommy and Daddy won’t be happy.” Strangers? Mommy and Daddy? I looked at her. She was wearing my silk nightgown—the limited edition one my best friend bought me. She was in my house, wearing my clothes, parenting my child, and probably sleeping with my husband. And she thought she was the main dish? I grabbed a pitcher of fruit tea from the table and dumped it over her head. Blueberries, strawberries, and tea dripped down her perfectly styled hair, ruining her makeup. “Genevieve!” she shrieked. “Are you crazy?!” I put the pitcher down slowly, crossed my arms, and watched her jump around. “What’s the fuss?” I said lazily. “My clothes got dirty. Just washing them.” Sarah was shaking with rage. Leo saw her distress and aimed his water gun at me again. “Don’t bully Sister Sarah!” I snatched the gun from him. Holding the barrel, I used the heavy handle to smack him right on the mouth. Kids have soft skin. It split instantly. Blood welled up. Leo wailed. “WAAAAH! Bad mommy! I’m telling Daddy to beat you up!” 04 “What is going on down here?!” Damian stormed down the spiral staircase from his study. Sarah immediately crumbled into a delicate, rain-battered flower. “Damian… finally.” “I don’t know why, but the moment Sister came in, she hit Leo with the toy gun.” “I tried to stop her, and she poured water on me.” She sobbed quietly. A masterclass in acting. Damian opened his mouth to yell, but I beat him to it. “Damian! What kind of father are you?” Damian: ? I put my hands on my hips. “Look at your son! He’s lawless! Other kids are learning Spanish and coding at seven. Your son? He plays with toys and assaults people! If it wasn’t for Sarah ‘disciplining’ him, he’d be useless!” I sighed dramatically. “Boys really are a bad investment. Look at Mia, she’s so smart and polite.” Sarah choked on her fake tears. When I stopped engaging in their petty jealousy games and stopped caring about them, her tricks were useless. Damian was so stunned by my outburst, his eyes watered. “You think I’m a bad father?” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through photos. “You spent all day playing house with that man and his daughter! Did you think about your son at home with no mother?!” The photos were of me, Julian, and Mia, laughing and having fun. “You tracked me?” I asked, incredulous. A tear slid down Damian’s cheek. He was consumed by jealousy. “I didn’t track you! Your little boyfriend sent these to me to provoke me!” “I want you to cut him off! Come back to your family!” In the original book, Sarah provoked the heroine daily upon her return. Sending photos, making noise in the bedroom… Now the tables were turned, and he couldn’t handle it? I said coldly, “Dirty minds see dirty things.” “He’s just a friend. I was welcoming him back to the country. Stop being so disgusting.” “I’m moving out for a few days. I can’t deal with your tantrums.” Damian couldn’t stop me. He smashed a vase in rage. “Go then! If you leave, don’t ever come back!” 05 Unlimited money, no husband or kid to serve. Shopping and spa days every day. Life was good. Then Mia came to me, hugging her stuffed bunny. “Auntie Gen, can you go to my parent-teacher conference the day after tomorrow?” “Other kids have moms. I want a mom too.” “I’ll give you my favorite bunny.” Aww. This little munchkin knew how to negotiate. Way better than those two freeloaders at home. I was about to say yes when I remembered something. Mia and Leo were in the same class. Oops. Usually, I handled everything for Leo. Damian never cared about school stuff. If I didn’t go… no one would go for him. But I was orchestrating a Father-Son Crematorium arc. Did I care? “Sure, Mia! Auntie will go to all your conferences from now on!”

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