I died once before I realized I nearly wasted my entire life on the Carter family. In my previous life, after I married Harrison Carter, my closet lost all its vibrant colors. I couldn’t answer my friends’ calls freely. If I went out at night, I had to report it in advance. I couldn’t even speak a single harsh word in front of the Carter family. Harrison said that as the future Mrs. Carter, I couldn’t be as willful as before. He controlled me, suppressed me, taught me to follow the rules, and ultimately tortured me into a decoration who had to read people’s expressions even when smiling. When I opened my eyes again, the wedding hadn’t happened yet. Downstairs in the dining room, Vincent Reese was discussing wedding procedures with Christine and her mother. Christine sat beside Vincent, saying how happy she was for me, but her eyes kept sneaking glances at the wedding procedure documents on the table. I stood at the top of the stairs, watching her for a while, then suddenly smiled. Good. There’s still time. Vincent saw me and frowned. “Come down. You should hear about how the wedding day will go.” I didn’t sit. I looked at everyone at the table and started with, “I’m not going through with this wedding.”

Lydia Reese POV The dining room fell silent. Christine’s mother’s coffee cup froze mid-air. Christine looked up. The gleam in her eyes was unmistakable before she quickly lowered her head again and said softly, “Lydia, did you not sleep well last night? Don’t say things you don’t mean about the wedding.” I didn’t look at her. I only spoke to Vincent. “The Carter family engagement still stands. Let Christine marry instead.” Vincent slammed his palm on the table. “Lydia Reese! Have you lost your mind? Do you think this marriage between our families is yours to give away?” I pushed my chair aside. “I’m not giving it away. I just don’t want it anymore.” Christine bit her lip, her eyes quickly reddening. “Lydia, if you say things like this, Harrison will be heartbroken.” Only then did I turn to look at her. “Haven’t you always wanted to marry him?” Christine’s face stiffened. Vincent’s anger stopped halfway. He looked at Christine, then at the wedding procedures on the table. His expression quickly changed. I was too familiar with that look. Full of calculation. The engagement couldn’t be broken. The Carter family’s benefits couldn’t be lost. The Reese family couldn’t lose face in New York. If his daughter wouldn’t marry, replacing her with an obedient one wasn’t out of the question. Vincent coughed and had the butler escort Christine and her mother back to their room. Before leaving, Christine looked back at me. That glance looked like she’d already tried on the wedding dress. I stood there, watching Vincent pick up his phone, lowering his voice as he began testing the Carter family’s attitude. He didn’t ask me why I wouldn’t marry. He didn’t ask if I’d been wronged. He was only afraid this engagement would break on the Reese family’s end. I turned and went upstairs. I locked the door and opened the safe. Inside were asset ledgers, jewelry, trust account documents, and the inheritance my mother had left for me, item by item. This wasn’t the kind of show the Reese family put on to maintain appearances. This was the escape route my mother left me. In my previous life, these things were first taken by Vincent to support the wedding’s grandeur, then later picked through by Christine. I never got them back, not until I died. This time, I called my mother’s lawyer friend first. “I want to transfer the asset ledgers, account permissions, and the jewelry my mother left specifically for me.” The phone was silent for a few seconds before responding quickly. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “Does Vincent know?” “Don’t let him know.” The lawyer quickly agreed, confirming they’d start processing everything in two days at the earliest. I hung up and submitted an application to leave New York, booking the earliest flight out after the wedding. After doing all this, I tossed aside the plain clothes the Reese family had prepared for me and pulled out a vibrant dress from the bottom of my closet. In my previous life, when Harrison first saw this dress, he said it drew too much attention. I never wore it again after that. That evening, I entered a VIP room at a private club. My old friends saw me and were stunned at first, then started teasing with laughter. “Isn’t Lydia Reese about to marry into the Carter family? You can still come out tonight?” I took the wine glass without explaining. I just wanted to see if I could still find my way back into the liveliness I once knew. The wine had barely touched my lips when the door was pushed open from outside. Harrison stood in the doorway, his face dark and ugly. The room fell silent. His gaze swept from the dress I wore to the wine glass in my hand, then over the group of friends beside me. “Come out.” I didn’t move. Harrison walked in, his voice lowered. “Lydia Reese, the wedding hasn’t even happened yet and you already want everyone to see the Carter family’s embarrassment?” I looked up. “The Carter family’s embarrassment. You shouldn’t be asking me.” Harrison’s face grew colder. He reached out and gripped my wrist. “Stop making a scene. Come with me.” His hand tightened more and more. No one in the room dared make a sound. My purse vibrated. I looked down and saw the screen light up. My mother’s lawyer sent a message: Asset transfer application received. First batch processing begins tomorrow morning. Harrison didn’t see it. He just gripped me and pulled me toward the door.

Lydia Reese POV When Harrison shoved me into the car, his face was still cold. The driver raised the partition. Only the two of us remained in the car. I rubbed my reddened wrist, not yet settled when I heard him ask, “Why did you go to that kind of place tonight?” I looked up. “What kind of place?” Harrison stared at the dress I wore. “Drinking, hanging around private rooms, letting a bunch of people watch you make a fool of yourself. Lydia Reese, have you forgotten you’re about to marry into the Carter family?” I laughed. “I haven’t forgotten.” “Then remember it clearly. Don’t make scenes before the wedding. After the wedding, I definitely won’t let you act like this.” After the wedding, those words made a chill rise in my stomach. In my previous life, he was the same. Little by little, he took away my clothes, my friends, my temper, and my voice. He said it was for my own good. He said I should understand the rules. In the end, I almost forgot who I was. I turned to look out the window, my voice soft. “I’m not marrying you.” The car went silent for a moment. Harrison whipped his head around to look at me. “What did you say?” “I said, I’m not marrying you.” Harrison’s expression grew darker and darker. “Because you fought with Vincent during the day?” I didn’t answer. Harrison seemed to have already decided I was guilty. “Using the engagement to threaten your family. Lydia Reese, when did you learn these kinds of tactics?” I leaned back against the seat without explaining. The engagement was already being replaced. Vincent would soon go to the Carter family to discuss it. But I deliberately wouldn’t tell him. I wanted to watch Harrison control me with his fiancé status, right up until the wedding day when he’d see with his own eyes that the bride had become Christine. Harrison saw I wouldn’t speak and grew angrier. “Take that back.” “No.” The car suddenly turned. I glanced at the road. We weren’t heading back to the Reese house. “Where are we going?” “The suburban vacation house.” Harrison said coldly, “To let you cool down.” We quickly arrived at the Carter family’s suburban villa. An assistant delivered a pre-wedding behavior manual and placed it on the table. The booklet was thick. The cover was clean, but inside it was filled with the Carter family’s rules for the future Mrs. Carter. How to dress for public appearances. How to speak when meeting Carter family members. Which friends could no longer be associated with. No entering places where photos could be taken before the wedding. After marriage, coming home late required advance notice. In my previous life, I followed every single rule. I replaced my wardrobe, cut off friends’ gatherings. Even attending a friend’s birthday required asking Harrison’s permission first. But the more I followed the rules, the more he felt I still wasn’t enough. This time, with the manual placed before me, I didn’t even flip through it. Harrison stood by the table, watching my actions, his patience completely gone. “Copy out the key points tomorrow.” I looked up. He continued, “At tomorrow’s afternoon tea gathering between the families, apologize to Christine.” “Why should I apologize to her?” “She helped clean up the situation for you in front of Vincent today. You shouldn’t have taken your anger out on her.” I looked at him and suddenly found it laughable. Christine sat downstairs waiting for the engagement to fall into her lap, yet he thought Christine was wronged. Harrison took my silence as agreement. His tone softened slightly but became more commanding. “Don’t say things about breaking off the engagement again. Before the wedding, whoever makes trouble will only look bad.” I didn’t respond. When Harrison sent me back to the Reese house, it was already very late. Vincent hadn’t slept yet. He sat in the living room waiting for me. Seeing me enter, his first words weren’t asking where I’d been or why I looked so terrible. He said, “Tomorrow at the afternoon tea gathering between the families, you must be present.” Harrison’s footsteps stopped. Vincent glanced at him and quickly swallowed his words back. “The Carter family is willing to hear about replacing the bride, but before officially bringing it up, you need to be there. We can’t let outsiders see that the Reese and Carter families have fallen out.” Harrison frowned. “Replace what?” Vincent’s face stiffened. I was already walking upstairs. Vincent immediately shouted, “Lydia Reese! I’m warning you, don’t lose your mind tomorrow and don’t ruin Christine’s opportunity!” Harrison stood in the living room, his gaze following my retreating figure. I didn’t look back. Back in my room, my phone already had a message from my mother’s lawyer. The asset ledgers and account permissions could be transferred first. Physical items would be handled in batches, with the first batch processed tomorrow morning. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at that line of text. Outside the door, servants walked back and forth in the hallway, speaking in low voices about the clothes to prepare for tomorrow’s gathering. Those clothes weren’t meant to maintain my dignity. They were to make Christine look more like the bride. Before long, there was a knock on the door. A servant brought in a plain outfit and said carefully, “Vincent said to have you wear this tomorrow.” I took the clothes. My other hand still clutched my phone. On the screen, the asset transfer confirmation was still lit.

Lydia Reese POV At the next day’s afternoon tea gathering between the two families, I didn’t wear that plain outfit. I came downstairs in a vibrant dress. The room full of rigid coffee sets and Carter family faces all looked gray in comparison. Vincent’s face darkened immediately. When Harrison entered, his first glance also fell on me. But Christine stood up first, her voice gentle as if shielding me. “Lydia probably didn’t rest well last night and didn’t have time to change clothes. Everyone, please don’t blame her.” I sat down without accepting this kindness. If I really accepted it, the next line would be Christine’s turn to show how sensible she was. Before the coffee was even served, Harrison asked, “Did you read the behavior manual?” I placed the unopened booklet on the table. The cover was smooth without even a crease. The Carter family members’ faces immediately turned ugly. Harrison’s gaze also grew cold. Christine seemed to have been waiting for this moment. She immediately pulled out another behavior checklist. “I was worried Lydia would be too busy, so I put together a copy for her. The wedding procedures, gift exchange order, things to note when meeting Carter family members. I’ve marked everything.” She spoke carefully, but her hand steadily pushed the checklist in front of Harrison. Harrison flipped through a few pages. His expression eased somewhat. “Look at Christine.” He pushed the checklist in front of me. “She knows to consider the big picture. What about you?” Vincent chimed in. “Christine has always been sensible, more aware of propriety than you.” Everyone in the room looked at me. I didn’t touch that checklist. This was the first knife Christine thrust at me before stealing my wedding, yet everyone thought this knife was dignified. The gathering continued toward the wedding procedures. The makeup trial, gift exchange, and meeting with Carter family members that should have been mine were pushed to Christine by Vincent with a single sentence. “Since Christine has already organized everything, let her go through it first.” Harrison didn’t stop it. He only said, “Lydia’s state has been unstable lately. It’s good for Christine to walk through it once.” Christine lowered her head as if she were really just there to help. She sat beside me, taking over one item after another. I watched her take them. The more she took, the worse the wedding day would look. Midway through the gathering, Christine used the excuse of accompanying me to change coffee and brought me to a lounge. As soon as the door closed, the obedience on Christine’s face vanished. “Will you tell Harrison in advance?” I looked at her. “Tell him what?” Christine bit her lip. “You know what I’m asking. About the engagement being replaced. Will you say anything?” I smiled. “Don’t you want to marry him? Go out right now and tell him you’re the bride on the wedding day.” Christine’s expression changed. I took a step forward. “You don’t dare.” Christine’s fingers clenched. “You’re afraid if he knows now, he won’t let you take my place.” This sentence hit home. The softness in Christine’s eyes completely scattered. She lowered her voice and said, “On the wedding day, he’ll see clearly who really belongs by his side.” When we returned to the living room, Vincent was discussing with the Carter family the trust assets my mother left me. “Lydia’s mother prepared those things years ago for the wedding. Since the wedding is still between our two families, it doesn’t matter who marries in the end. Those assets should be used to maintain appearances.” My hands slowly clenched. Harrison heard this. He glanced at me. Just one glance. He didn’t ask if those were things my mother specifically left for me. He didn’t try to intercept those words on my behalf. Christine lowered her head to drink coffee, unable to suppress the corner of her mouth. After the gathering dispersed, I returned to my room to check the asset transfer progress. The screen had just lit up when footsteps outside the door crack stopped. When I looked up, the hallway was already empty. The next moment, Christine’s voice came from downstairs. “Vincent, I think I just saw that Lydia has already started moving those assets…” Vincent’s footsteps quickly headed upstairs.

Lydia Reese POV Vincent blocked my door, his voice suppressed and vicious. “Open the door. Hand over the asset transfer documents.” I didn’t open the door. “The assets are what my mother left me. No one can touch them.” Vincent laughed coldly in anger. “You’ve already given up the engagement and you’re still clinging to those assets? Lydia Reese, how can you be so selfish!” I listened to him curse from outside. “The marriage between the two families isn’t finalized yet. Keeping the assets in the Reese family will at least prevent us from losing face.” Christine’s voice came from the stairs. “Vincent, don’t let your anger harm your health. There’s still a pre-wedding party tonight. If Lydia makes another scene, the Carter family will look very bad.” With one sentence, she temporarily suppressed Vincent’s fury. “You must attend tonight.” Vincent slammed down those words before leaving with his people. That evening, the pre-wedding party was held at a club owned by the Carter family. When I arrived, Christine had already changed into an evening gown. Her hair and makeup were done according to the wedding trial. Guests whispered praise about how gracious and proper she was. I entered in my vibrant dress. Those gazes immediately shifted from praise to watching a spectacle. Harrison stood beside the Carter family members. When he saw me, his brow furrowed. The party procedures began. The host invited the future bride to accompany Harrison in toasting the guests. I was about to stand when Harrison first looked at Christine. “Lydia isn’t quite suitable today. Let Christine familiarize herself with it first.” Vincent responded faster than anyone. “Christine knows propriety. Having her go through it first is safer.” Christine declined twice, her eyes reddening slightly. Harrison personally handed her the wine glass. She stood beside him, accompanying him through the toasts. The guests’ murmurs couldn’t be suppressed. I sat alone in my seat. The wine glass at my side was never handed to me from beginning to end. After the toasts ended, I got up and went to the hallway. Before long, Christine followed out, still holding the wine glass Harrison had given her. She placed the glass in front of me. “Lydia, look. Harrison is already used to letting me clean up situations for you.” I looked at her coldly. Christine smiled again, her voice so soft only the two of us could hear. “Vincent has already agreed. On the wedding day, he’ll add your mother’s assets to my name to maintain my dignity.” My expression grew colder and colder. Christine still didn’t stop. “The words your mother wrote to you on the asset ledger will also enter the Carter family with me.” The wine glass shattered on the floor. I raised my hand and pushed her against the wall. Christine let herself hit it and immediately cried out. “Lydia, I was just advising you to go back… I wasn’t trying to steal your things…” Guests from the other end of the hallway gathered around. Harrison came too. He first checked Christine’s wrist, which quickly reddened. Christine clutched her wrist, crying and trembling. “I only mentioned those assets and Lydia couldn’t handle it.” I didn’t deny it. “She touched things she shouldn’t have.” Harrison cut me off. “Enough.” He looked at the shattered glass on the floor, his face ugly. “Apologize to Christine.” Vincent pushed through from the back of the crowd and immediately cursed. “Lydia Reese, isn’t losing face enough for you? Christine is about to walk through the wedding procedures for you, and you’re still being petty over some assets!” I looked up. “When did the things my mother left me become Christine’s wedding dignity?” The hallway went quiet. Harrison’s eyes darkened. He gripped my wrist and pulled me from the crowd. I was dragged all the way to the club’s back courtyard. Outside the door, Harrison coldly instructed the bodyguard. “Watch her.” I looked at him. He didn’t let go. “When you’re willing to go back and apologize, you can come out.”

Lydia Reese POV When the back courtyard door of the club was locked from outside, the laughter from the party hall hadn’t stopped. I stood behind the door, hearing Harrison say through it, “Think it over. Then come out and apologize.” I spoke through the door crack. “I won’t apologize.” Outside went silent for a few seconds. Harrison’s voice grew colder. “Watch her. No one is allowed to let her out.” The bodyguard acknowledged. My phone was confiscated. There were no chairs inside. I could only stand against the wall. Night wind drilled in from the corner. There was still undried water on the floor. The hem of my dress quickly became wet. In the party hall, the proceedings continued as usual. Christine’s wrist was wrapped in gauze, yet she still forced herself to serve drinks to everyone. Seeing her like that, the guests felt even more sorry for her. Vincent took the opportunity to sigh to the Carter family members. “Lydia has been spoiled since childhood. Christine is the truly sensible one.” Harrison didn’t say a word on my behalf. The fact that I was locked in the back courtyard was suppressed by the pre-wedding party. At first, I could still stand steady. Later, my lower abdomen cramped heavily. My fingers went numb from the wind. I knocked on the door. The sound was torn apart by the wind. “Get Harrison. I don’t feel well.” The bodyguard went to ask for instructions. When he returned, he only said through the door, “Mr. Carter’s event isn’t finished yet. Miss Lydia, please be patient.” I looked at that door and didn’t knock again. I slowly crouched down against the wall. The damp cold seeped through the hem of my pants up to my knees. Outside the door, people whispered. “Wouldn’t it have been better to just apologize?” “Insisting on making such a scene. Who’s to blame?” At the same time, Christine found Vincent. Her eyes were red, her voice soft as if afraid, seeming to think of countermeasures. “Vincent, Lydia may have already transferred the assets. I saw a message at her door.” Vincent’s expression changed drastically. “Are you sure?” “I wouldn’t dare speak carelessly.” Christine lowered her eyes. “Lydia probably doesn’t want me to take that money into marriage.” This sentence was more vicious than tattling. Vincent immediately had people return to the Reese house to check the safe and trust accounts, and arranged for people to guard my room. “When she comes back, bring her upstairs immediately.” When the party dispersed, the bodyguard finally discovered I had already passed out. When the door opened, cold wind mixed with moisture rushed out. When Harrison arrived at the lounge, the doctor had just helped me onto the bed. My face was pale, my wrist scraped by the door edge, my dress hem still wet. He frowned at the bodyguard. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” The bodyguard lowered his head. “I asked for instructions once.” Harrison’s expression froze for a moment, quickly suppressing it. “You didn’t say it was serious.” He had the doctor treat me and instructed his assistant, “Tell everyone she drank too much and felt unwell.” When I woke, Harrison sat beside me. His tone lowered somewhat. “Don’t be so stubborn in the future.” I looked at him without speaking. Harrison continued, “Christine’s wrist is badly injured. Tomorrow the two families will continue discussing the wedding. After you go back, don’t upset Vincent anymore.” My throat was dry, but my voice was steady. “I was locked up until I passed out. Christine’s wrist turned red. Harrison Carter, which one matters more to you?” Harrison fell silent. He avoided the question, only having the driver take me back to the Reese house. When the car reached the Reese house entrance, I leaned against the window and saw the people Vincent sent were already waiting at the steps.

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I had waited two years for a life-saving surgery, only for my husband, Ethan Blackwell, to sign it away to his ex-girlfriend with a single signature. When the nurse cut off the pre-op wristband from my wrist, I thought something had gone wrong with one of my tests. Later, I learned that Sienna Rhodes had once shielded him from an accident. He owed her his life. So he decided to repay her with mine. My father begged everyone he could find, humbling himself everywhere, just to get me another chance. But they wouldn’t even spare him. Eleven days after my surgery was taken away, my father was cornered in the hospital corridor, a phone shoved in his face as people demanded answers. “Are you using your daughter’s illness to extort favors from people?” When my father collapsed from a heart attack, he was still clutching my medical files in his hand. I no longer have a father. This time, I’ll make every single one of them pay the price. Amelia POV I had waited two years for a life-saving surgery, only for my husband, Ethan Blackwell, to sign it away to another woman with a signature. When the nurse came in to remove the pre-op wristband from my wrist, I thought something had gone wrong with one of my tests. I was lying on the prep bed, medical tape still on the back of my hand. The pre-anesthesia confirmation had just been completed, and I could hear people wheeling equipment past the door outside. Just one more step, and I would be in the operating room. The moment the wristband was cut off, my fingers froze. “Did my results come back abnormal?” I pushed myself up to sit, my voice tight. “Didn’t the doctor say this morning I could be taken in?” The nurse avoided my eyes, seemingly afraid to look at me, and crushed the cut wristband into her palm. “Ms. Cross, there’s been a temporary change in the schedule. Please return to your room.” “What do you mean?” The nurse’s lips moved, but she didn’t dare look at me. I threw off the blanket and got out of bed. My legs felt weak as my feet touched the floor. I gripped the edge of the bed and stared at the nurse. “Who changed it?” The nurse seemed to retreat a step under my pressure, her voice dropping lower. “Ethan signed off on it.” Ethan. My husband. For the past two years, every time a doctor emphasized the risks, he sat with me outside the office. The doctors said this opportunity wouldn’t come easily, and if I missed it, my body would find it even harder to hold on. Ethan had held my hand then and said, “From now on, I’ll sign all these forms. You just focus on staying alive.” I believed him. The medical authorization form. I had personally let him fill in that section. Now that same pen in someone else’s hands had become the blade that pulled me off the operating table. I pulled out the IV needle and threw on my jacket, heading toward the doctor’s office. The nurse couldn’t stop me and could only follow behind, calling for me to slow down. The doctor seemed to notice my pale face and first asked me to sit. I didn’t sit. “Who did you transfer my surgery to?” The doctor was silent for a moment. “Ms. Cross, you can’t get agitated right now.” “Who did you transfer it to?” The office fell quiet. The doctor finally spoke. “Sienna Rhodes.” When I heard that name, my fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the desk. Ethan’s ex-girlfriend. All these years, whenever Sienna made a single phone call, Ethan would drop everything and rush to her side. The doctor continued. “Years ago, she took the hit for Ethan in an accident and was left with lasting complications. This time, the relapse came on suddenly. Ethan felt she couldn’t afford to wait, so he requested the surgery be transferred to her first.” I didn’t ask about that old accident, nor did I ask how much Ethan owed Sienna. I simply held out my hand. “Give me the authorization form.” The doctor passed the document over. It clearly stated: Medical Confirmation Change. Signature: Ethan. I stared at those three words, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with something hard that I could neither swallow nor spit out. The door was pushed open from outside. When Ethan arrived, his expression looked dark. He saw the authorization form in my hand, first asked the doctor to leave, then reached out to pull me. “Come back to the room with me first.” I avoided his hand and held the authorization form up to his face. “Ethan, what gave you the right to sign for me?” Ethan’s brow furrowed tightly. “Sienna’s situation is more urgent. She became like this because of me back then. I can’t just watch her die.” “So you’re going to let me die instead?” He paused. “I’ll find another way for you. We can find other doctors. Money isn’t an issue.” I looked at him and suddenly laughed. “Did you ask me?” Ethan avoided my eyes. “There wasn’t time.” “No time to ask me, but plenty of time to give away my life?” His impatience finally seemed to break through. “Amelia, stop being stubborn. Your body can still hold up. Sienna really can’t wait any longer. Just this once. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Don’t make a big deal out of it. My father had waited with me for two years, waited until his hair turned white. And now, in Ethan’s mouth, it all came down to “don’t make a big deal out of it.” The corridor suddenly became chaotic. At the entrance to the prep area, Sienna was being wheeled over by nurses. She was already connected to the pre-op procedures, covered with a blanket, her face weak and pale. When she saw me, her eyes immediately reddened. “Ethan, did I steal Amelia’s chance?” Ethan immediately bent down and gripped her hand. “Don’t think like that. The arrangement is set. Just go in with peace of mind.” Only then did Sienna look at me, her voice soft and trembling. “Amelia, I know you’ve been waiting a long time too. But I really can’t hold on anymore… Ethan just wants to save me first. Please don’t blame him.” I knew. I knew whose spot this originally was, and I knew who Ethan had chosen. I lowered my head, folded the authorization form, and crushed it in my palm. The nurse came to urge. “Sienna Rhodes, you can enter the prep area now.” Ethan supported Sienna and turned back to say to me, “Go back to your room and wait for me. Don’t cause any more trouble. I’ll come find you after I handle this.” His hand was still resting on Sienna’s shoulder, his gaze still fixed on her. I stood there, watching as Sienna was wheeled inside. The operating room doors slowly closed. Ethan didn’t notice that I had already turned around and was walking toward the service desk.

Amelia POV I didn’t go back to my room to wait for Ethan. First, I took a photo of the authorization form, then found the doctor again and asked what the consequences would be if the surgery was delayed. This time, the doctor didn’t beat around the bush. “It will be very difficult to get another opportunity like this in the short term. Your body is already unstable. The longer you wait, the more dangerous it becomes.” “When’s the earliest you can schedule something?” The doctor’s silence was obvious. I made note of that silence too. I clutched my jacket and walked back toward my original room. When I reached the door, I saw the bed was already empty. The things I’d left on the bedside table had been stuffed into a bag, and even the cup I’d drunk from last night was thrown under the chair. A nurse stood at the door, her expression awkward. “Amelia, Sienna needs post-op observation. This room is close to the nurses’ station. Ethan just had someone transfer it to her.” I looked at that bed that had been remade. I wasn’t even dead yet, but my room had already been cleared out. Inside the room, Sienna was leaning against the headboard while Maya Sinclair directed a nurse to remove the bag next to the chair. “None of this is Sienna’s, right? It’s so unlucky leaving it here. Get rid of it.” I walked in and took the bag back from the nurse. Maya frowned. “What are you doing? Sienna just finished prep. The room needs to be clean. Don’t leave your messy stuff in here.” Sienna immediately interjected softly. “Maya, don’t say that. This was Amelia’s room to begin with.” After she finished speaking, she looked up at me, her eyes seeming to glisten with moisture. “Amelia, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan was just worried about me being moved around after surgery, so he had someone prepare the room. I wanted to refuse, but he said I couldn’t afford any more stress right now.” I didn’t respond to her. I bent down to pick up the cup. The bottom was covered in dust. I wiped it twice with tissue, stuffed it back in the bag, and turned to leave. As soon as I walked out, Ethan’s friend Lucas Mitchell came rushing toward me. When he saw the bag in my arms, he frowned first. “Amelia Cross, enough already. Sienna’s life is hanging by a thread, and you’re still here making a scene over a hospital room?” I looked up. “Who told you I was making a scene?” “You’re not?” Lucas lowered his voice, but his tone was hard. “Sienna got hurt so badly because of Ethan back then. Ethan owes her. Now that she’s in this condition, there’s no way Ethan won’t help.” I asked, “So my life should just take a back seat?” Lucas seemed choked up for a moment, his expression turning ugly, but he quickly spoke again. “Can’t you still wait? You’ve always been able to endure. Sienna’s different. She really can’t hold on. Do you have to force Ethan into this right now? He’ll regret it for the rest of his life.” I looked at him. “Ethan also said before that this time, he wouldn’t make me wait again. Did you know that?” Lucas avoided my gaze. The murmuring in the corridor was getting louder. Some people said I was Ethan’s wife, yet I was competing for resources with someone critically ill. Others said Sienna Rhodes had been injured protecting Ethan, and if I truly loved Ethan, I should be more understanding. I sat in the waiting chair holding the things I’d retrieved from the room, needles of stares piercing me from all directions. I was the one whose surgery had been taken away, yet now I was being painted as the one refusing to give up my place. I took out my phone and started making calls. “Hello, I’d like to transfer my medical records for a second opinion.” “When’s the earliest I can see a doctor?” “I already missed my original opportunity. Is there any way I can still get back on the list?” Before I could finish my calls, Ethan returned. He pressed down on my phone, his face frighteningly dark. “What are you trying to do now?” I pulled my phone out from under his hand. “Find a hospital.” “With your body in this condition, you still want to go through all this trouble?” Ethan suppressed his anger. “Stay here. I’ll handle it.” I looked at him. “Your handling. Does that mean signing my forms away again?” Ethan’s face seemed to stiffen. “Sienna hasn’t even entered the operating room yet, and everyone’s busy. Amelia, can you please not cause trouble at a time like this?” I didn’t look at him again and continued dialing the next number. Just then, the elevator doors opened. My father came rushing out with a bag of hospital documents. He’d come in such a hurry that one button on his jacket was fastened wrong, and he gripped the bag of documents tightly. To prepare for today’s surgery, he’d gone through that bag again and again last night, terrified of missing a single sheet of paper. But as soon as he came out, he saw me sitting in the corridor waiting chair. No wristband, pre-op arrangements canceled, holding the things that had been cleared out of my room. I hastily stood up, instinctively hiding the bag behind my back. “Dad…” My father’s steps stopped in place, the color draining from his face bit by bit. He looked at Ethan first, forcing himself to ask, “Was the surgery temporarily postponed?” No one answered. The people who had been gossiping also fell silent. My father looked at me again, his voice trembling. “Amelia, why weren’t you in the operating room today?”

Amelia POV After my father heard what had happened, he didn’t yell at Ethan. He first supported my shoulders and pressed me back down into the waiting chair, then turned to ask the doctor. “What happens to her now?” The doctor said quietly, “We’ll observe first and evaluate later.” “Can that surgery be transferred back?” The doctor didn’t answer. My father clutched that bag of hospital documents, the veins on the back of his hand bulging bit by bit. He’d rushed all the way here expecting to wait for me to come out of surgery, not to hear there was no solution. Ethan, standing nearby, finally spoke. “Mr. Cross, this situation was my oversight. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll find Amelia a better opportunity.” My father looked up at him, his eyes frighteningly red. “If the person pulled off the operating table today had been your mother, would you still have signed that form?” Ethan said nothing. When I walked my father downstairs, he refused to leave, saying he’d wait near the hospital. I took the bag of documents from him. The opening had been wrinkled from his grip, and every sheet of paper inside seemed to carry the weight of these two years. “Dad, please go home first.” My father shook his head. “You go in. I’ll wait outside.” Holding the bag, I returned upstairs and stood by the elevator for a while. I couldn’t let Ethan sign for me anymore. At the service desk, the staff handed me the medical authorization change form and reminded me that once canceled, Ethan would no longer be able to receive any hospital notifications on my behalf. I nodded and first wrote my father’s name in the new contact person section. After finishing, I took the pen and crossed out Ethan’s name from the original position. Two years ago, in that same spot, Ethan had bent down to fill in his information for me, saying from then on I only needed to focus on treatment. Now, as I drew that line through his name, my hand was steady. “Some people are really something.” From the other end of the corridor, Maya deliberately raised her voice. “Someone can clearly hold on, but they insist on forcing the person who just got wheeled in to step down. Sienna’s old injury relapsed this badly, and she still has the heart to do this.” People nearby looked over, their gazes immediately changing. I walked forward holding the form, but Maya blocked my path. Sienna sat outside the prep area, her face terribly pale. She gently stopped Maya. “Don’t say that. It’s my fault.” She looked up at me, tears seemingly pooling in her eyes. “Amelia, if you absolutely must have the surgery back, I can withdraw.” As soon as she finished speaking, she covered her chest and started coughing. Maya immediately rushed over to support her, then turned back and snapped, “Amelia Cross, do you see this? She’s in this condition! Do you have to hound her to death before you’re satisfied?” I hadn’t said a word from start to finish. But everyone’s stares had already pushed me into the role of the person forcing a dying patient to give up her lifeline. Ethan came out of the doctor’s office, his first instinct to support Sienna. “Where does it hurt?” Sienna weakly shook her head, but her hand clutched his sleeve without letting go. Only then did Ethan notice the form in my hand, his expression immediately changing. “What are you trying to do now?” I held the form out in front of him. “Cancel your medical authorization.” Ethan reached out to take it. I stepped back, avoiding him. “From now on, you don’t need to sign a single thing for my treatment.” Ethan seemed to freeze. He seemed to finally understand. I wasn’t arguing, and I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was removing him from having any say over my life. At the entrance to the prep area, the nurse started urging Sienna to go in. Ethan glanced over there and lowered his voice. “Amelia, don’t make a scene right now. Wait until Sienna’s surgery is over, then we’ll talk.” I looked at him. “Every time, you make me wait.” I gripped the paper tighter, feeling my face go pale. “But this time, I can’t afford to wait anymore.” Before I could finish, my vision went black. My father was coming back from the elevator and seemed to see me falling, shouting desperately for a nurse. I wanted to finish signing the form, but my hand gave out first. The authorization cancellation form drifted down to Ethan’s feet, the paper spreading open. Someone from the prep area called for him to come over. I lost consciousness completely.

Ethan POV After Amelia collapsed, the corridor instantly erupted into chaos. Nurses pushed over an emergency bed, and doctors rushed over quickly. Mr. Cross lunged forward to catch Amelia’s slipping hand, his voice breaking as he shouted, “Save her! Save my daughter first!” I stood frozen in place, the authorization cancellation form still lying at my feet. Someone from the prep area was also calling out. “Ethan, Sienna Rhodes is about to enter the operating room. They’re still waiting for your confirmation.” I looked down at that sheet of paper, then at Amelia being wheeled away. This time, I didn’t immediately go to Sienna’s side. I bent down to pick up the form, clutched it in my hand, and chased after the emergency room. Outside the emergency room, Mr. Cross blocked my path. “Give me that.” I didn’t hand it over right away, keeping my voice low. “She was just emotionally worked up. Wait until she wakes up, then we’ll talk.” The fury in Mr. Cross’s eyes seemed to ignite all at once. “She collapsed because her body couldn’t take it after you gave away her surgery. She’s not throwing a tantrum at you!” I felt my expression darken. “I said I’ll find her a better opportunity.” Mr. Cross reached out and snatched the form from me, his hand trembling. “You already made one decision for her. You can’t decide for her a second time.” The doctor came out quickly, his tone grave. “Her indicators are still dropping. Today’s surgery could have stabilized her. Now we can only try to save her. Whether we can get her back on the list. We need to look into it as soon as possible.” My expression finally changed. I had always treated this as a temporary concession, thinking we could make it up later. The doctor’s words crushed all those “laters” into immediate consequences. Just then, Maya came running over. “Ethan, Sienna is about to go into the operating room, and she keeps asking for you! She’s very emotionally unstable right now. She can’t handle any shocks.” Mr. Cross heard this and looked up at me. “Sienna Rhodes can’t handle shocks, but my daughter can handle having her surgery taken away?” Maya immediately responded, “Someone inside is waiting too. If something happens to Sienna, who’s going to take responsibility?” I looked toward the emergency room, then toward the surgical area. I hesitated for a moment, then said quietly to Mr. Cross, “You stay with Amelia. I’ll go confirm things quickly and come right back.” Mr. Cross didn’t stop me. He just watched me turn away, his gaze so cold it was as if he no longer recognized me as a person. When I arrived at the surgical area, Sienna had already been wheeled inside. Maya said with red eyes, “Sienna was terrified the whole time that Amelia would actually take the surgery back. Her hands were shaking before they pushed her in.” I felt irritated but didn’t contradict her. I knew the thing Sienna feared was the opportunity Amelia had lost. The operating room light came on. The people on Sienna’s side seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. There was still no news from Amelia’s emergency room. When I returned outside the emergency room, Mr. Cross was sitting in a waiting chair, his back bent low. That bag of hospital documents sat beside him, pressed down firmly by one hand. I spoke up. “I just went to confirm…” Mr. Cross didn’t look up. “Are you done confirming?” I felt my throat tighten. Mr. Cross finally looked at me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. “Is her life now safely placed ahead of my daughter’s?” I was about to speak when the emergency room door opened. The doctor informed us that Amelia was temporarily out of danger, but her condition going forward wasn’t optimistic. We had to find another opportunity as soon as possible. Mr. Cross supported himself on the armrest and stood up. “Can we transfer to another hospital?” The doctor said, “The family needs to decide quickly.” I instinctively stepped forward. But Mr. Cross moved in front of me first and handed the authorization cancellation form to the doctor. “This time, I’ll sign.” My outstretched hand froze in midair. The emergency room light was still on. Her father, Mr. Cross, stood between the doctor and me, blocking me out of the family decision-making position for the first time.

Amelia POV When I woke up, only my father was in the room. He sat by the bed, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. When he saw me open my eyes, he seemed stunned for a moment before frantically pressing the call button. My throat was painfully dry, but my first words weren’t to ask about Ethan. “Did you finish the paperwork?” My father’s hand paused on the call button, his voice hoarse. “Just needs your personal confirmation.” I nodded. “Bring it here.” My father seemed like he wanted to tell me to rest first, but after looking at my expression, he swallowed his words. I didn’t ask where Ethan had gone. That operating room light that had turned on yesterday had already answered for him. When the nurse brought in the form, I forced myself to sit up. My hands were still shaking, but I signed my name clearly. Ethan pushed the door open just in time to see this. His expression seemed to darken instantly as he strode quickly to the bedside. “Do you have to make a scene at a time like this?” I didn’t look up, only said to the nurse, “Please continue.” Ethan suppressed his anger. “You just came out of the emergency room. Your body can’t take this kind of stress. You’re canceling the authorization now because you want to gamble with your own life?” Only then did I look at him. “I’m not gambling.” I put down the pen, my voice not loud, but clear enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I just don’t want you deciding for me anymore whose life should be saved first.” Ethan seemed publicly humiliated, frozen in place. The nurse collected the form and quickly confirmed. “From now on, Amelia’s authorized family member is Mr. Cross. Ethan, you will no longer participate in decisions regarding her condition.” Ethan stood in the hospital room, officially removed from my family authorization position for the first time. News that Sienna’s surgery had gone smoothly quickly spread through the original hospital. After waking up, she didn’t criticize me. She only told visitors with red eyes that she’d almost couldn’t hold on before surgery, and it was only because Ethan rushed over at the last moment that she dared enter the operating room. Once that story got out, it changed flavor. Some said I refused to give up my spot and scared Sienna to the point of nearly collapsing before surgery. Others said if Ethan had arrived one step later, Sienna might not have even made it onto the operating table. I lay in the hospital bed hearing these words and didn’t explain. My father was furious and wanted to go out, but I grabbed his sleeve. “Dad, let’s just leave this place first.” My father went to handle the transfer paperwork. Ethan chased him to the service desk and coldly demanded they suspend the process. The staff checked the system and replied politely, “Mr. Blackwell, Amelia’s current authorized family member is not you. We cannot stop the process based on your request.” Ethan’s expression turned cold. “I’m her husband.” My father returned with the paperwork and blocked his path. “You’ve already harmed her once. Don’t use your husband status to claim you won’t harm her again.” The staff handed the confirmation form to my father. I watched as Ethan stared at my father signing it. The veins on the back of his hand were taut, but he had no authority to stop it. When the transfer bed was pushed to my room door, Maya and several others blocked the corridor. She seemed to first glance at my complexion, then said in a soft voice, “You’re already transferring hospitals. Can’t you just let Sienna go? She just woke up. She can’t handle any stimulation.” My father was about to speak, but I looked at the nurse first. “Can you call the police if someone blocks a patient transfer?” Maya’s expression changed. When people around heard the words “call the police,” they immediately stepped back. When Ethan arrived, he only saw nurses pushing me through the crowd. I didn’t shout, and I didn’t cry, but with one sentence I made everyone move aside. At the hospital entrance, I was pushed into the transfer vehicle. Before getting in, my father glanced back at Ethan. His eyes held no plea for help, only wariness. Ethan chased after us. “Amelia, at least hear me out.” Before the door closed, I looked at him through the window. I didn’t curse him. I only said to the nurse, “Please close the door.” Ethan raised his hand to stop it. The nurse stood in front of the vehicle door, her tone apologetic but firm. “Mr. Blackwell, the patient has already transferred. Non-family members cannot obstruct the transfer.” The door closed. The transfer vehicle drove away. Through the window, I saw Ethan standing in place, seemingly pinned there by those words, unable to move for a long moment.

Ethan POV After Amelia transferred to the new hospital, I followed, only to be stopped outside the ward by a nurse. “I’m her husband.” The nurse checked the system and shook her head. “Ms. Cross is not accepting visits from you.” I felt my expression darken. “We just had an argument.” The nurse wasn’t swayed by me. “The hospital follows the patient’s instructions.” Mr. Cross came out of the ward area holding treatment materials. I immediately stepped forward. “I can find better doctors and arrange a more suitable place.” Mr. Cross looked at me wearily. “You want to arrange things for her again?” My outstretched hand froze in midair. My phone rang at that moment. Sienna was crying on the other end, her voice breaking. “Ethan, did I cause Amelia to become like this? If you hadn’t come, I really couldn’t have held on…” I glanced at Mr. Cross and said into the phone with suppressed irritation, “Call your doctor.” Sienna cried even harder. “But I only want to see you. Now that I’m alive, it feels like I’m everyone’s burden.” Mr. Cross seemed to hear the crying from the phone. He said nothing more and turned back to the ward area. That retreating figure carried more weight than if he’d scolded me. I stood outside the access control holding my phone, but in the end, I turned and left. I went to Sienna’s room. Sienna was leaning against the headboard. When she saw me, tears fell first. “Ethan, did I make Amelia misunderstand again?” My expression was cold. “Rest well. Don’t mention her anymore.” Sienna froze, then said quietly, “I know you blame me now. But if I hadn’t shielded you from that accident back then, I wouldn’t be lying here now.” I frowned tightly but didn’t immediately comfort her like I used to. Sienna seemed to sense my hesitation and reached out to grab me. “Do you regret giving me the surgery?” I didn’t answer. The room fell quiet. Sienna’s hand froze in midair, panic flooding her eyes that she couldn’t hide. In the evening, I returned to our shared home. The password still worked, but the place felt so empty it made my heart cold. The seat where Amelia used to sit had been cleared out. Her everyday clothes were missing from the closet too. On the living room table sat divorce papers. Next to them was a copy of the medical authorization change form. I picked it up and saw my name crossed out, Mr. Cross’s name replacing my position. Amelia had already signed the divorce agreement. She didn’t want me as her husband, and she didn’t want me as her family member. My phone lit up with a message from Mr. Cross. “Amelia is settled. The new hospital will not accept your visits.” I sat in the emptied-out living room, still clutching that copy in my hand. For the first time, I didn’t know where to find her. Early the next morning, I had my assistant deliver items to the new hospital. The envelope contained doctor profiles I’d hastily gathered, and I’d also transferred a sum of money to a card. I thought that even if Amelia didn’t want to see me, she at least wouldn’t refuse things that could save her life. Everything was returned by the service desk. The staff processed it according to the notes, saying materials sent by non-authorized family members could not be directly entered into the medical record process. When I personally arrived at the new hospital, my expression was extremely dark. I stood at the service desk, barely containing my impatience. “I need to see her attending physician.” The staff asked me, “Please present your authorization credentials first.” “I’m her husband.” “Your access has been revoked in the system.” My fingers drummed on the counter, the sound heavy, my knuckles turning pale and blue from the pressure. “Her body isn’t well. She can’t take that risk. Let me in, or call out her attending physician. I can find better doctors. I’ll cover all the expenses.” The staff maintained that same businesslike attitude, even with a hint of wariness. “Sir, neither the patient herself nor her family has given consent. We cannot disclose any private information. That’s the rule.” It felt like I was losing her.

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The night my in-laws were kidnapped, my husband wanted to go camping with his first love. I didn’t try to stop him. I just called the police immediately. In my past life, because I stopped him, he went to save his parents instead of being with his first love. Later, his first love was mauled to death by wild wolves in the mountains. Her death was horrifying. Afterward, my husband said nothing, until I was pregnant and about to give birth—that’s when he threw me into the deep mountains. “Petra, if it weren’t for you, Barbara wouldn’t have died!” “What gives you the right to live peacefully? I want to watch you suffer everything she suffered!” I died along with my unborn child, torn apart by wild beasts. When I woke again, I had returned to the day my in-laws were kidnapped. This time he didn’t participate in the rescue. He got his wish and saved his first love, but his hair turned white overnight. I screamed in terror and opened my eyes. I was drenched in cold sweat, my clothes completely soaked. The pain of my flesh being torn still seemed to linger. I reached down to touch my flat stomach, listening to my heartbeat, tears streaming down my face like broken pearls. I fumbled around for my phone and checked the time. I had been reborn—reborn to the day my in-laws were kidnapped. Soon the kidnappers would call, demanding we prepare thirty million in ransom and deliver it within half an hour, or they’d kill the hostages immediately. Harris and I had been childhood sweethearts. Our parents had arranged our engagement when we were young—a marriage alliance. Whether for the family union or my own feelings, I was destined to become his wife. I knew he had an ex, but his family didn’t approve. Before the wedding, I’d asked him if he was willing to marry me, if he was marrying me because he loved me. He’d said yes to both. I’d entered our marriage with peace of mind. After the wedding, he was indifferent to me and maintained an ambiguous relationship with his ex. I pretended not to see, not to hear, saying nothing. I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to lose my marriage. For that, I paid with my life, and killed my child who I’d carried for ten months. Given a second chance, I would never make the same mistake. I watched Harris run downstairs and slowly got up from the sofa. When our eyes met, he looked at me and said in a low voice, “I won’t be coming home tonight.” I said nothing, turning my head to look at the phone beside the sofa. It was the kidnappers calling. I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “We have Suarez and Louise. Thirty million ransom, deliver it to the harbor warehouse in half an hour. If you call the police, I’ll kill them immediately!” The kidnapper’s voice reached Harris’s ears. He just frowned slightly, then laughed contemptuously. “Petra, is this really necessary?” “Is it fun having them put on this act with you?” Looking at his face, remembering how he’d watched as I fell into hell, the love I’d held for over a decade had long since vanished into smoke. “Harris, you heard the call. What you do is your business. I’m not getting involved.” “If you want to think we’re putting on an act, that’s fine.” “But I’m telling you one more time—I’m not acting with them.” Perhaps because I spoke so calmly, Harris hesitated for a moment. But in the end, he turned and walked away with large strides. In my past life, when we received the call, Harris had thought the same thing. But I knew I wasn’t acting with his parents, so I’d done everything to stop him. After searching all night, the two were finally rescued. After rescuing his parents, he left, and when he returned, he brought back news of Barbara’s death.

He blamed everything on me. After Harris left, I called the police directly. Thirty million wasn’t a small amount, and it had to be in cash. I couldn’t come up with it immediately, and even if the kidnappers got the money, they might not release the hostages. So I had to call the police and let professionals handle it. After I dialed 911, the nearest station would dispatch officers. But before the police arrived, I received a call from an acquaintance. “Petra, this is Nicholas. Did you and Harris have a fight?” My brow furrowed as I asked in a low voice, “Why are you calling me?” “Well, you just filed a police report, right? Even though we’re acquaintances, filing a false report isn’t a small matter. You and Harris can fight all you want, but you can’t mess around like this.” “Harris and Barbara have nothing going on. Making such a fuss makes Harris look ridiculous.” After listening for a while, I finally understood what he meant. “What are you saying? Harris told you I filed a false police report?” Facing my question, there was silence on the other end. I laughed coldly and said in a low voice, “Nicholas, I’m telling you to dispatch officers and handle this matter immediately, or I’ll file a complaint.” Nicholas snorted coldly. “Petra, don’t think everyone is like Harris, at your beck and call. I’m not your White family’s security guard.” “You’re just a shrew. You’re not worth a single hair on Barbara’s head.” After hearing those words, I hung up. Then I called 911 again and filed a complaint against Nicholas. The officers dispatched from another station arrived more than ten minutes later. They asked me some questions and listened to the recording of the first call. Everyone’s expressions were serious. They quickly traced the incoming number—it wasn’t registered, and when they called back, it was turned off. They could only wait for another call. The officers handling the case waited, while I contacted my private financial manager. “How much liquid cash do I have in my account?” “Seventeen million? Get all of it ready.” After hanging up, I called Harris’s uncle, Wilson. When he heard that Harris’s parents had been kidnapped, Wilson exclaimed, “Who did it? Is Harris there?” “I don’t know who the kidnappers are. Harris went camping with Barbara. The kidnappers want thirty million in cash. I can’t come up with enough on my own. Can you help me gather what you can? I’ll pay you back in a week.” “Child, why talk about paying back? How much more do you need?” “Thirteen million.” “Don’t worry, I’ll get it together.” The half hour passed quickly. They called again. I answered immediately. The tech officer nearby quickly began tracing the location, but soon shook his head—he couldn’t locate it. My heart sank gradually. I heard the person on the other end say fiercely, “Time’s up. Did you deliver the money?” “I haven’t gathered enough yet. Please give me more time. My husband isn’t here, and I don’t have that much money on hand.” “I said when time’s up and the money isn’t here, I’ll kill the hostages!” I quickly pleaded, “Don’t hurt them. You want money, right? Killing them won’t get you the money—it’s not worth it. Give me another half hour. In half an hour, I’ll definitely have the money ready.” As soon as I finished speaking, heart-wrenching screams came from my in-laws on the other end. The kidnapper’s sinister voice rang out again: “Half an hour—five fingers per person!” “If you want to stall, go right ahead!” After the call ended, Nicholas appeared at the door. He’d heard what was just said, and now his face was pale as he looked at me.

He explained weakly, “Harris called me and said the elders were acting with you, just to make him stay home…” I didn’t bother to speak. The officer beside me said, “Call Harris and tell him what happened.” Nicholas agreed and stepped aside to make the call. The phone showed the line was busy. Thinking of my mother-in-law’s delicate nature—how she’d need someone to blow on her hand if it was scalded by hot water—I couldn’t imagine how much pain she must be in now. I took a deep breath to calm myself and quickly called Wilson. His line was also busy. Just minutes after I hung up, Wilson called back. Before I could ask if he’d raised the money, I heard him sigh and say, “Petra, I have to say, how could you trick me with something like this? Suarez and Louise spoil you, but you need to tell them to do it in moderation. If I hadn’t asked Harris about it, you would have given me a heart attack.” In that instant, my heart turned to ash. “Harris told you we’re acting? You don’t have to believe me, but can you reach my in-laws? The police are right here beside me.” The person on the other end kept sighing, then said, “Harris has feelings for someone else, Petra. If it really doesn’t work out, just divorce him. That way you’ll both be free.” After I hung up, Nicholas got through to Harris. Nicholas said, “Harris, you need to come back. Your parents really seem to have been kidnapped.” The person speaking on the other end wasn’t Harris—it was Barbara. “Nicholas, are you acting along with Miss Petra too? Harris is barbecuing right now. I’ll get him to take the call.” After she spoke, I heard Barbara relay Nicholas’s message. Harris didn’t even take the phone. He just said to Barbara, “Hang up. That crazy woman Petra won’t let anyone have a moment’s peace.” The call was disconnected. Nicholas looked at me with furrowed brows. I looked down and smiled bitterly. “I have no leads, but they want the money delivered to the harbor warehouse. The money isn’t enough, but I have to go. If I act as bait, can it increase your chances of solving the case?” The female officer beside me said, “Miss Petra, let me deliver it for you.” I smiled. “What if the kidnappers recognize me? If you go, won’t that blow our cover? You can protect me from the perimeter. I’ll deliver it myself.” Since no one had a better plan, they agreed to my request. When the kidnappers called again, I deceived them, saying I’d raised the money and asking them to confirm the delivery location. I’d deliver it—hostages and money exchanged simultaneously. I heard a cold laugh, then a casual reply: “Sure.” My heart immediately felt something was wrong. Before he hung up, I asked, “I want to hear their voices.” “Why the rush, Miss Petra? You’ll see them soon enough.” After speaking, the call was cut off. I had my financial manager withdraw the money. I dragged a suitcase full of cash to the location the kidnappers specified, then received their call telling me to move, to go to the underground parking garage—the elders were waiting for me in the parking garage. I didn’t care about the money—the police were upstairs. I quickly ran to the underground parking garage. I found my mother-in-law’s car in the garage. The door was open. Both of them had their throats cut, blood continuously pouring out. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I stumbled over, running while calling 911. “Someone’s had their throat cut in the underground parking garage of the harbor warehouse. Please come quickly.” I gripped their hands tightly. “Hold on. The doctors will be here soon.”

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After witnessing my mother’s devastatingly tragic marriage, I unexpectedly returned to the past and met my mother from ten years ago. My mother asked me excitedly: “Manuela, did your father hold a wedding for me after his undercover work ended? Did I successfully buy a new house in Seattle?” I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and answered one by one: “There was no wedding, no new house either. Dad… he already has a wife.” My mother remained silent for a long time. Thinking she didn’t believe me, I panicked: “Mom, leave Dad quickly. Staying near him will only bring you misery.” “His real child is my classmate Julian. He’s not undercover. He’s the heir to Seattle’s Christopher Group. He’s been pretending to be poor to deceive you.” “Later, Julian’s mother will fight with you. You’ll lose your job, end up on the streets, and eventually commit suicide from depression.” I saw my mother’s eyes turn red. “Today is Children’s Day, isn’t it? You must have seen Dad taking that mother and daughter to Disneyland, right?” “Go follow them and ask that woman. Once you ask, you’ll understand everything.”

My mother held five-year-old me as we approached Julian’s mother, Henrichs. After learning that Julian and I were classmates, Henrichs invited us to eat together. She eagerly ordered an ice cream cone. When she noticed my mother’s gaze landing on her belly, she smiled. “My husband is pretty strict with me. Since I got pregnant, he won’t let me eat anything. I’m craving it so badly.” My mother asked softly, “Are you due soon?” “Should be sometime this month. It’s a boy.” My mother smiled. “Your husband must be very happy.” “Oh yes, he’s so excited. It’s our second child and he’s still making such a fuss.” My mother said wistfully, “You two have such a good relationship.” Henrichs enjoyed my mother’s words, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. “It’s alright. I once ran off to study abroad in a fit of anger, and he came all that way to find me.” “To satisfy my vanity, he accompanied me to take ninety-nine sets of wedding photos.” I couldn’t help but think of the loving stories about her and Dad that my mother had told me countless times. She came to Seattle for college and fell in love at first sight with poor boy Dad. After graduation, they registered their marriage. My mother was considerate of Dad’s work, so they had no wedding ceremony or honeymoon—just a marriage certificate. The photo on the marriage certificate was even photoshopped on, because Dad had no time to take pictures. The day after the wedding, Dad went abroad. Even after I was born, Dad never came home, never even held me. My mother would always console herself, saying Dad was just busy with work and couldn’t get away. But the truth later cut her to shreds. Henrichs continued complaining sweetly: “My husband is so good to me. He even wants to arrange the most expensive maternity center in Seattle for me.” “He won’t let me do anything. He’s practically spoiling me.” My mother’s hands trembled slightly. I remembered my mother saying she went to work without properly resting after childbirth, which left her with lasting health problems. She worked three hundred sixty-five days a year, never willing to rest. At this moment, Henrichs suddenly asked my mother: “What about your husband? Can’t he even make time to spend Children’s Day with his child?” My mother smiled bitterly. Henrichs seemed to understand and comforted her. “Actually, all men are like that. When I was abroad, my husband also found someone else.” “But what’s funny is that he pretended to be poor the whole time, afraid that woman would be after his money.” “He’s a CEO, but every day he ate street food with that woman. I actually felt kind of sorry for him.” My mother forced a smile: “Really? What happened to that woman later?” Henrichs shrugged: “I think she had a daughter, got a fake certificate, and is probably living in some dump somewhere now.” “Actually, she’s pretty pathetic too. My husband even lied to her, saying he worked as some kind of undercover agent. She couldn’t even get a decent house.” “Tell me, what could she possibly see in my husband? Surely not love?” At that moment, a familiar voice rang out from behind us. “Henrichs, sneaking ice cream behind my back again.”

I turned around. It was my father from ten years ago. He looked down at Henrichs, doting with a hint of helplessness. “The doctor said you can’t eat cold things right now.” Henrichs leaned toward him coquettishly. “I only had one bite. Don’t be so mean.” I secretly glanced at my mother. Her face was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on my father’s back. My father saw my mother. His eyes were calm and still, as if looking at a stranger. I thought my mother would impulsively confront him, but instead she just held five-year-old me tightly without making a sound. After my father and Henrichs left, my mother silently cried. She showed me her phone. My father had sent her a message telling her not to make a scene. I kept wiping her tears, but they wouldn’t stop. “Don’t cry, Mom. He’s not worth it.” That night, my father came to the urban village where my mother lived. My mother punched and kicked him, crying her heart out. “Why did you lie to me? What do you take me for?” “Do you know that for all these years, our daughter has been mocked as a bastard child, told she has no father?” My father was silent for a while, then pulled out a card and stuffed it into my mother’s hand. “There’s a million dollars here. Take it, but don’t make trouble with Henrichs.” Previously, to maintain his pretense of being poor, my father never transferred more than a thousand dollars to my mother. Now he was giving a million at once. My mother looked down at the card and smiled mockingly. “Wallace, you deceived me for ten years. Is that only worth a million dollars?” “That’s not what I mean. Manuela is about to start elementary school. Haven’t you always wanted to buy a new house closer to school?” “I’ll figure out the house situation, but not right now. Henrichs is watching me closely…” She threw the card at him. “Just leave. Don’t come back anymore.” “Montoya, calm down. I have my reasons…” I stood up and pushed my father. “Get out of here and stop harassing Mom!” My father’s gaze paused, questioning my mother: “Who is she? Why is she calling you Mom?” My mother had no obligation to tell him. She pushed and kicked him out the door. After everything quieted down, my mother stared at the window where no moon could be seen. “Every time he lied to me about going abroad for missions, he was taking that mother and daughter on vacation?” My eyes dimmed. I nodded. While my mother worried whether he was eating and sleeping well abroad, he was watching the snow fall with Henrichs. All of Seattle’s upper circles knew that my father was deeply devoted to Henrichs. The next day, my mother was supposed to go to work but was told she was fired. Thinking about next semester’s tuition that would soon be due, my mother’s voice rose anxiously: “You can’t fire me without cause. I’ll sue you.” But the boss said, “Go ahead. But Mr. Wallace can handle this with one phone call. You should save yourself the trouble.” My mother had no choice but to return to the rental house dejectedly, only to find all her belongings had been thrown out by the landlord. “I’m not renting this place to you anymore. You need to move out today.” My heart sank: “Henrichs must have found out about you. We need to get back to Chicago quickly.” I knew that because of my appearance, the timeline had moved up. Though Henrichs pretended not to care that my father kept a woman on the side, she was actually intensely jealous and wished she could skin my mother alive. But young Mom was more stubborn than I imagined. She was unwilling to give up on Seattle, where she had struggled for five years. After randomly finding a budget hotel to stay in, she began submitting resumes online. But without exception, all were rejected. Some people even mocked my mother directly: “Isn’t being Mr. Wallace’s mistress good enough? Why do you need to find work?” Henrichs even publicly attacked my mother online as a homewrecker, accusing her of taking my father’s million dollars. Internet users followed the narrative and tore my mother apart. My mother fought back defiantly, posting chat records with my father to prove she wasn’t a homewrecker. But those posts were quickly flagged as violations and prohibited from spreading. Little Manuela came back from kindergarten crying: “The other kids wouldn’t play with me today. They said Mom stole Julian’s dad…” My mother held her tightly. “Manuela, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry…” After hitting wall after wall, she finally decided to leave Seattle.

But just before we left for the train station, little Manuela suddenly developed a high fever. My mother couldn’t worry about the train. She carried me and ran to the hospital. “I’m sorry, miss, but the hospital is short-staffed.” As soon as the doctor finished speaking, my mother fell to her knees. “Please, doctor, please! My daughter is only five years old. She’s dying!” The doctor said helplessly: “Miss, it’s really not that I won’t save her. It’s that Mr. Wallace’s daughter caught a cold, and all our pediatric attending physicians have been transferred there.” My mother rushed out of the hospital like a madwoman. She took a taxi and went from hospital to hospital asking, getting rejected at every single one. “Please, save my daughter!” But the answer was the same everywhere. All pediatric attending physicians had been transferred to the private hospital under the Henrichs Group. At that moment, my mother’s mind went blank. She called my father with trembling hands. “Wallace, Manuela is dying… Please save her, please save her…” But my father demanded that my mother livestream an apology to Henrichs and admit to being a homewrecker before he would agree to have someone treat me. I knew what consequences my mother would face if she compromised. I shook my head, urging my mother to refuse. But my mother agreed immediately. She turned to me and said, “Being insulted doesn’t matter, as long as my Manuela is healthy.” My father, afraid that Henrichs would suffer even the slightest grievance, even promoted the livestream. Countless vicious comments flooded the comment section. My mother was quickly torn apart by abuse. The hashtag #Montoya Is A Homewrecker# quickly topped the trending list. Only then was my father satisfied. He was about to call a doctor to examine me. But at that very moment, Henrichs clutched her belly and cried out in pain. No one paid attention to my mother and me anymore. They all surrounded Henrichs. My mother anxiously grabbed the doctor. “Please look at my daughter first. She’s really dying…” The doctor shook off my mother’s hand. “Mrs. Henrichs’s pregnancy is unstable. Everyone, out of the way!” My mother was pushed so hard she hit the wall. I quickly stepped forward to support her. “Mom, are you okay?” My mother didn’t pay attention to me. She stumbled after them: “Please, just look at my daughter for a moment…” At that moment, a doctor rushed out frantically: “This is bad, Mr. Wallace! Your wife is hemorrhaging. She needs a blood transfusion immediately!” My father shouted at him, “Contact the blood bank now!” The doctor wiped his sweat. “But your wife has rare Rh-negative blood. The hospital’s blood bank doesn’t have a matching type…” My mother suddenly trembled, shakily trying to pull me away. At that moment, my father’s gaze fell on little Manuela. He suddenly became somewhat excited. “Manuela… Manuela also has Rh-negative blood, right?”

My mother kept backing away: “No, my daughter is so small… She has so little blood. You can’t take hers…” My father’s assistant carefully spoke up: “Mr. Wallace, why don’t I check other hospitals again? Maybe we can find another Rh-negative volunteer. The child really is too small.” “There’s no time.” The doctor urged, “Mr. Wallace, please make a decision quickly. Your wife’s blood pressure is dropping.” At that moment, Henrichs’s screams came from the delivery room, each one more agonizing than the last. Several bodyguards suddenly restrained my mother, preventing her from moving. My mother screamed, “Wallace, are you even human! She’s only five years old!” I was about to step forward to help when a bodyguard beside me kicked me mercilessly, sending me sprawling to the ground. My father forcibly took little Manuela from my mother’s arms. My mother struggled desperately: “Wallace, let her go! She’s only five! Taking her blood will kill her!” From inside the room came the nurse’s hesitant voice. “Mr. Wallace, this child is too young. We can only draw 100 milliliters at most. Any more would be life-threatening.” My father said impatiently, “What good is 100 milliliters? Draw at least 200.” “But that really doesn’t comply with regulations…” My father’s voice was cold as ice. “Draw it! If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility!” Soon, little Manuela’s cries came from the room, each one weaker than the last. My mother’s heart was breaking, cold to the bone. “Wallace, if anything happens to Manuela, I will never forgive you in this lifetime!” But before long, Henrichs came out of the delivery room. “Why is she crying so miserably? Didn’t Wallace tell you that your daughter’s purpose is to be my blood bank?” She looked well, not at all like someone who had just given birth. My mother looked at my father in disbelief. Henrichs said magnanimously, “Let me tell you the truth. The car accident when you were seven months pregnant wasn’t an accident. Wallace orchestrated it.” “If we hadn’t later seen that your daughter’s blood type matched mine and could serve as my mobile blood bank, your daughter might not have even been born.” “You should thank your daughter for being useful.” I knew about this too. My mother said she almost lost me, with no relatives by her side. She stayed in the hospital alone for several days, immersed in dark terror. So it was all orchestrated by my father. He never wanted me to be born at all. Entering the room, my mother held little Manuela, her expression numb. She suddenly said to me, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” My nose suddenly felt sour. “It’s okay. Everything can still be fixed.” While little Manuela was still receiving IV fluids, Henrichs actually had two bodies—one large, one small—brought from the morgue. I knew she was warning my mother that if she didn’t comply, she would end up like these two bodies. My mother, trembling with rage, set fire to the entire ward and fled with us. Meanwhile, Wallace had finally finished processing the paperwork for the new house and was about to have my mother sign when… He saw thick smoke from the hospital’s top floor! His assistant suddenly rushed over in a panic. Wallace’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong?” His assistant looked terrified: “The ward where Miss Montoya was staying is on fire!”

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In my hometown, when a man wants to marry the woman he loves, he must personally craft a rowing boat to serve as the wedding boat. On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, my boyfriend Julian finally built a beautiful boat. Just as I was about to step aboard, I overheard his friend asking him in a hushed voice: “Are you really giving the boat to Ivy? Aren’t you afraid Serena will make a scene?” “Seriously, Serena has quite the temper. Be careful you don’t push her too far.” Julian just laughed, sounding completely certain of himself: “She won’t. Serena’s the easiest to handle. She loves me to death.” “Besides, in her hometown, if a woman’s still unmarried at 28, she’s basically an old maid. Besides marrying me, who else would want her?” “Anyway, I’ll give Serena the marriage certificate and Ivy the wedding boat. It’s perfectly fair.” An old maid. So that’s all I was to him. My throat tightened, but I didn’t cry. I just took out my phone and sent a message. “Mom, I accept the arranged marriage you set up for me.”

The new boat, wrapped in roses, began its procession, and people started cheering and pushing. “Serena, get on the boat!” “Serena, after seven years, you’re finally getting married!” My best friend Summer sounded genuinely excited and happy for me. Under everyone’s gaze, Julian stepped off the boat and walked in my direction. He only paused beside me for a moment before walking past. He finally stopped in front of Ivy, his tone relaxed and indulgent. “Your birthday present. Do you like it?” An eerie silence fell over the crowd. Ivy covered her mouth, her eyes full of delight. They walked hand in hand toward the boat. This time when he passed me, Julian stopped, his tone casual. “Serena, I’m giving this boat to Ivy first. The next one’s already being built, so don’t worry.” Some people watched the drama unfold, others watched me. As if waiting for me to throw a fit. But I just looked at him calmly. “No need, Julian.” He froze slightly, as if he hadn’t expected this reaction. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Julian’s friends started speaking up for him. “Serena, don’t overthink it. Julian’s just fulfilling her birthday wish!” “Right, you’ll definitely be Julian’s bride.” I listened to their clumsy excuses, feeling like laughing. My best friend Summer was beside me, grinding her teeth. “How can Julian do this!” “He knows full well that a man can only build one rowing boat in his lifetime!” A sourness welled up in my chest. Yes, in this waterside town, even three-year-old children know that a man can only marry with the first boat he builds to ensure a lifetime of love. Her voice beside me was choked with emotion. “Serena, I feel so wronged for you…” “An assistant trying to climb the social ladder—is he blind!” Actually, she wasn’t just a simple assistant. She was also the daughter of an old family friend of the Prescotts, entrusted to their care. So he gave Ivy unlimited favoritism. He’d bring her to various occasions, and any holiday gifts he gave me would also include one for her. Even the wedding boat I’d been looking forward to for seven years could be given to her because of a birthday wish. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Summer.” I patted her hand. Soon, the two on the boat finished the procession ceremony and came ashore. Ivy still had a trace of a smile on her lips as she bounced over, her tone as cute as ever. “Serena, Julian’s just fulfilling one of my birthday wishes. Don’t overthink it.” Julian—such an intimate way to address him. I was about to speak when I was interrupted. Julian stepped forward and pressed his hand on my shoulder. “Serena, it’s just a boat.” “There are so many people here. Don’t make a scene.” His tone was still gentle, but his eyes carried a warning. “I won’t.” I stepped back and smiled, nodding at Ivy. “Happy birthday.” The moment I finished speaking, an eerie silence fell around us. Julian looked at his empty hand and froze for a moment. That made sense—in the past, I would have made a scene by now. Summer couldn’t stand it anymore and questioned him loudly. “Julian, you gave the boat to her. What are you planning to use to propose to Serena?” “She’s already waited seven years for you. Give us a straight answer!” Everyone’s eyes fell on him. I also looked at him quietly, a faint hope rising in my heart. Julian, this is the last chance I’m giving you. One second, two seconds. My fingers dug hard into my palm, and just as I was about to smooth things over myself— Julian chuckled lightly and spoke casually. “Next time for sure.” Light, dismissive, and perfunctory. The last trace of love in my heart popped like a balloon and finally fell silent.

Summer’s eyes turned red with anger beside me, but I held her back. After the procession ended, they were supposed to hold a banquet on the boat and drink. Some passersby watched the excitement. “Another couple’s getting married! That wedding boat is so grand!” Someone shouted: “Congratulations!” Ivy stood at the bow, tugging on Julian’s arm. “Julian, I have another birthday wish.” Her voice was loud, drawing everyone’s attention. “I want… you to be my boyfriend for seven days!” The atmosphere instantly exploded. “Say yes! Say yes!” Julian laughed and ruffled her hair without a moment’s hesitation. “Deal, but just seven days.” From start to finish, his gaze never once turned to me. Ivy glanced at me without leaving a trace, her smile growing wider. Friends in the know kept glancing over. Some sympathetic, some watching the drama, some pitying. It seemed like I, the ex-girlfriend, shouldn’t continue staying here. Just as I lifted my foot, Julian called out to me. “Serena, you’re leaving?” “Yeah, it’s awkward for an ex-girlfriend to stay here.” He frowned. “Don’t talk nonsense. I’m just fulfilling a young girl’s wish.” “You take a cab first. I still need to take Ivy home.” “I’ll bring you fried chicken tonight, okay?” After speaking, he took the keys from my bag and rejoined the celebration. I stared at his back, my eyes finally starting to sting. After I got home, I received a video from Ivy. In the video, Ivy’s face was flushed red. People pushed her into Julian’s arms. Someone joked. “I say, why not just hold the wedding with Ivy too!” “How can Serena compare to our Miss Ivy!” Ivy laughed and cursed: “You’re drunk.” Julian just watched with a smile on his lips but didn’t deny it. Then came a message. “Serena, why did you leave early? I’m sending you the video so we can celebrate together!” Strangely, seeing all this no longer stirred any waves in my heart. I just stared at the rowing boat in the video, lost in thought. Julian used to constantly tell me that this was a major life event for girls from the waterside town, and nothing could be compromised. The deck had to be made of rosewood, the railings on both sides had to be wrapped with my favorite magnolia flowers, the windows on the boat had to be designed by me personally… I still felt some regret, after all, I’d been looking forward to it for a long time. But not for the person—for the boat. When Julian came back, it was already late, and he entered empty-handed. When our eyes met, he paused, then walked over and hugged me like usual. A strong scent of perfume hit me. The last time I wore perfume was five years ago. Back then, he frowned and said the smell of perfume made him nauseous. Only today did I learn that his nausea was selective. He looked at me, his tone still gentle. “The party went a bit late. Still awake? Waiting for me?” I didn’t respond, only asking: “Where’s my carrot cake?” Without looking at me, he picked up a nearby glass and took a sip of water. “When I was taking Ivy home, she said she wanted to try it, so I gave it to her. Didn’t you say you wanted to lose weight for the marriage certificate photo? We can eat it another time, okay?” This was the third time he’d said this. I’d been saying I wanted to eat it since half a month ago. He said he’d buy it, bought it three times. The first time, halfway there, Ivy called him to accompany her to view houses. The second time, Ivy was being ostracized by her colleagues, so Julian went to eat sushi with her. And then today. I sighed and suppressed the sourness in my heart. “Julian.” “Let’s break up.”

The glass in his hand trembled, then he scoffed. “Changed your tactics? You think I won’t call you out on it? You’re really not giving up, are you?” I froze, not understanding what he meant for a moment. He laughed coldly. “Today you had Summer pressure me to propose, didn’t you?” “What, the forced proposal didn’t work, so now you’re playing hard to get?” Only then did I understand. He thought I had Summer say that to pressure him into proposing. I found it absurd but didn’t bother explaining. I nodded. “Yes, the forced proposal failed, so I want to marry someone else.” After I finished, the mockery on his face deepened. “Serena, could you really bear to break up with me? Enough already, don’t blow this out of proportion. You’re already 28 and we’ve been together for seven years. Besides me, who else could you marry? Go to bed early. Tomorrow we still need to go to my house for Grandma’s birthday.” He turned and went back to the bedroom. I watched his back, feeling only deep exhaustion. The next day, I still went to attend Grandma Prescott’s birthday party. After all, Grandma Prescott had given me a jade ring, and I had to return it. When I arrived at the Prescott house, Julian’s mother stood at the door. Ivy was holding her arm with a bright smile, looking every bit the future daughter-in-law. Ivy saw us first and immediately smiled, walking toward me proactively. “Serena, Julian said you were angry. I thought you weren’t coming today!” She deliberately shook the jade bracelet on her wrist—the one the Prescott family gives to their daughter-in-law. Grandma Prescott’s was a ring, Mrs. Prescott’s was a bracelet. Julian had long ago gotten the bracelet from his mother, saying he’d personally put it on me someday. Now, it seemed that wouldn’t be necessary. Julian also saw it and explained in a low voice. “Ivy’s just borrowing it to wear. She’ll return it. Don’t overthink it.” Mrs. Prescott also walked over, her expression indifferent, her tone carrying a hint of admonishment. “You’re here?” “I heard about yesterday. It’s just a boat.” “Ivy is all alone now. It’s only right that we care for her more. Rein in your temper and don’t make people laugh for no reason.” Everyone thought I would lose my temper, but no one stopped Julian from doing that. I found it rather laughable. Julian reached out to habitually put his arm around my waist, trying to comfort me with an intimate gesture as usual, but I smoothly avoided him by stepping aside. His hand froze in mid-air, and Julian’s brow instantly furrowed. “What are you making a fuss about now?” Julian lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of suppressed anger. “It’s Grandma’s birthday. Don’t ruin everyone’s mood. I’ll apologize to you when we get home, okay?” I calmly raised my head to meet his gaze. “I’m really not angry.” I took out the jade ring and handed it steadily to Mrs. Prescott. “Mrs. Prescott, please give this to Miss Ivy as well. I won’t go in and disturb Grandma Prescott.” At this, Julian’s pupils suddenly contracted. Ivy clutched her skirt, looking aggrieved yet understanding. “Serena, are you sulking?” “Julian, this is all my fault. I was too greedy to accept that boat…” “I’m the one who made Serena angry. How about I return the boat and the bracelet to her…” As she spoke, she seemed to remember something and hurriedly tried to remove the bracelet from her wrist. But somehow, though the bracelet was quite loose, she couldn’t get it off. Sure enough, the tension Julian showed when he saw me take out the ring disappeared. He laughed coldly, snatched the ring from my hand, and walked toward Ivy. “No need to return it. I said if I’m giving it to you, it’s yours. Here, wear the ring too.” Then he looked at me, his eyes full of disdain. “Fine, Serena. Let’s see how long you can keep this up!” “Since you don’t want them, Ivy can wear them all first.” “Didn’t you say you weren’t going in? Why are you still here?” In the past, the more he provoked me like this, the more I’d do the opposite and would stay. But now, I only felt relieved. “Then I’ll head back first.” Then I turned and left. Behind me came Ivy’s considerate attempt to mediate. Julian’s anger seemed even greater, his voice louder. “Let her go! She’s desperate to get married and starved for love, trying to manipulate me with this! She should look at how old she is!” I didn’t look back and got into a taxi. Mom’s message came through right then. “Serena, look, this is your rowing boat.”

In the picture, that boat was bigger and more beautiful. Most importantly, the entire hull was covered with my favorite magnolia flowers, not a single rose. Back home, I started packing my things. Simple clothes, documents, slowly organizing everything. There were also photos of us together over the years, each with writing on the back. I flipped through them one by one. The one from Erhai Lake, he wrote: “Going to cling to Serena for life.” The one watching the sunrise together, he wrote: “Serena is more beautiful than the sunrise…” I put them all away, hesitated for a moment, then threw them in the trash. After a while, the sound of a car engine came from downstairs. Because it suddenly started raining, Julian came back quite early. The door was pushed open, bringing in a scent of Ivy’s perfume. I didn’t stop what I was doing and folded the last piece of clothing. Julian changed his shoes and walked to the bedroom door, leaning against the frame. He casually draped his suit jacket over his arm, irritation evident in his expression. “Are you done yet?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it was full of condescending dismissiveness. I glanced up at him, closed the suitcase, and prepared to zip it up. My indifference completely wore away the last of his patience. He strode over and yanked my suitcase away. The force was heavy, and the case made a sharp sound. “Are you ever going to stop?” He frowned, his brow knotted. “I’ve had a mountain of work at the company lately. I’ve been really busy. These past few days, you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder. Do you have to let everyone laugh at me?” You’re not busy. You still have time to coddle Ivy. Most importantly, they’ve never been laughing at you—they’ve been laughing at me. “I haven’t been giving you the cold shoulder.” He grabbed my wrist, offering what he thought was a compromising concession. “I know you’re unhappy. It’s just a boat and some jewelry, right? Those are all small matters.” Everything about me is a small matter, everything about Ivy is a big deal. I looked at him and suddenly remembered what he said in the group chat that day. Serena’s the easiest to handle, loves me to death, would never dare to really make a scene. “Let me tell you something. Tomorrow Ivy and I are going on a business trip.” He leaned down, brought his face close to my ear, and threw out what he thought was his most enticing chip. “When I get back from the trip, I’ll make time to get the marriage certificate with you.” “You’ve waited seven years. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for? I’ll satisfy you.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing, as if getting the marriage certificate was some great favor to me. In his heart, the wedding boat could be given to someone else, his favoritism could be given to someone else. All the exceptions and special treatment could belong to Ivy. Only that cold marriage certificate was my fate. I looked at him and suddenly laughed. Laughing at how my seven years had rotted on that wedding boat covered in roses that never belonged to me. And seeing me laugh, Julian thought I’d been appeased, completely relaxed, his expression growing even more at ease. “Happy now? Wait for me at home like a good girl.” He walked toward the door, taking out his phone and tapping it twice as he went. “I still need to video call Ivy and prepare for tomorrow…” I interrupted him. “Julian, I’m going back to the waterside town tomorrow. I need to…” His phone suddenly rang. He raised his hand, stopping what I was about to say. “Ivy, what’s wrong?” The voice on the other end sounded panicked. “Don’t be scared, I’m coming right over.” Hanging up, he put on his jacket while saying to me: “It’s thundering outside. Ivy’s most afraid of thunder. I’m going to check on her.” “Whatever it is, we’ll talk later.” Then he hurried out. The words “get married” were forcibly swallowed back. … Julian rushed out. On the road, his phone buzzed a few times. He scoffed, assuming that since he’d just agreed to get the marriage certificate with me, I was getting anxious again. When he reached the building where Ivy lived, he opened his phone, only to find it wasn’t a message from me. “Julian, remember to attend the wedding of the Ashford heir next week.” Following that was a picture of a wedding invitation. After seeing the content clearly, his hand froze on the car door.

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The day my parents got divorced, I pushed away my loving mother and clung desperately to my cheating scumbag father’s leg. In my previous life, I chose my mother without hesitation. But because the family wouldn’t accept me, I dragged her down to a lifetime of scorn and suffering. This lifetime, looking at my mother Diana Smith’s heartbroken eyes, I left without looking back. Five years later, I was gutting fish in a damp, stinking seafood market to make ends meet. As I skillfully sliced open a dead fish’s belly. My mother walked over in high heels, carefully avoiding the dirty water on the ground. She covered her nose in disgust, looking at my filthy clothes with a cold laugh: “That disgusting fish stench that won’t wash off—is this the result of abandoning me back then?” “The crazy billionaire heir of the Godfrey family wants to form a marriage alliance with us now.” “As long as you kneel and beg me, I’ll let you live the good life. How about that?” “You know I always mean what I say.” Hearing the disdain in her words, I swallowed the bloody taste in my throat and put on a cheeky smile as I moved closer: “Not only will I not kneel, but you have to kiss me first.” Even just once would be enough to get me through the remaining month.

“Quinn Hart, my patience is limited. You’d better quit while you’re ahead.” My mother spoke coldly. I didn’t budge, staring straight at her. This might be my last chance to be this close to her. I leaned my face even closer. Her brow furrowed, a flash of offended anger in her eyes. She raised her hand as if to slap me away, but eventually lowered her arm. We were locked in a standoff for a full minute. The housewives around us shopping for groceries gathered to watch. Unable to stand the onlookers’ gazes, my mother compromised. Her eyes swept over my face covered in fish scales: “Too dirty. Go wash your face clean.” A surge of secret joy rose in my heart, though I kept my shameless, carefree expression on the surface. I rinsed the grime off my face and brought it close to hers again. “All clean now, Miss Smith—please inspect.” She closed her eyes, held her breath, and touched my cheek extremely quickly. Then her face turned completely cold as she turned to leave: “Follow me.” As we walked out of the market, the butcher from the neighboring stall poked his head out. “Quinn, closing up early today?” “Who’s this rich lady? Here to buy fish from you?” I waved at him. “Not doing this anymore—off to be a rich kid now.” “Uncle, the leftover fish are yours!” Diana, walking ahead, paused in her steps, the coldness on her face deepening. She sneered: “Five years apart, and you’ve completely fallen into a money pit.” “Back then when you followed that good father of yours, I thought you two could accomplish something earth-shattering.” I didn’t argue back, obediently following her into the Rolls-Royce parked by the roadside. The car’s interior was filled with a faint woody fragrance. My mother leaned back in the passenger seat, her gaze passing over me to look out the window. In a flat tone, she began describing her current status: “I’ve acquired basically all the competing companies on the market.” “Even if you worked your whole life, you couldn’t earn what I make in interest in a single day.” But she didn’t mention a word about how she’d reached this point over the past five years. I knew how much scorn we’d endured in the family in my previous life. Looking at her exquisite but exhausted profile, I felt genuinely happy for her. She finally didn’t have to relive the misery of her previous life. When she finished, I calmly replied: “Oh.” That single flippant word infuriated her. She whipped her head around, staring at me hard. “I shouldn’t have had any expectations of you.” “You’re hopeless mud that can’t stick to a wall—not a single brain cell in your head.” The pressure in the car plummeted. She turned away, showing me the back of her head, completely refusing to communicate. After the car drove for a while, I broke the stalemate: “What’s the marriage partner’s name? I should at least know who my meal ticket is, right?” “In case it’s some seventy or eighty-year-old geezer, I need to prepare quick-acting heart pills in advance.” She kept her eyes closed, not even wanting to look at me: “Caspian Godfrey. Around your age.” I froze instantly, my heartbeat skipping. Caspian Godfrey? Wasn’t that my ex’s name?

No, it had to be an illusion or someone with the same name. Back when we were together, he was just an ordinary medical student. How could he be the heir of the Godfrey family? I leaned back in my seat, my mind buzzing. The car smoothly entered a luxurious hillside estate. When my mother led me into the main hall, quite a few people had already gathered inside. Elegant piano music echoed through the air. I recognized several familiar faces at a glance. Those relatives who had mocked and even kicked us when we were down in my previous life. Now they all fawned around her, having become her subordinates. When their gazes fell on my hoodie reeking of fish, they didn’t bother hiding the contempt and mockery in their eyes. My aunt Linda covered her nose and exaggeratedly stepped back two paces. “Diana, is this that girl of yours who followed her gambling deadbeat father?” “That smell on her could knock someone out.” “Anyone who didn’t know better would think some beggar broke in here.” My mother looked at me sideways. I knew she wanted to see self-consciousness and shame on my face. Even tears of regret for not choosing her back then. Since she wanted to see it, I’d play along. I looked around awkwardly, like a clueless clown, and moved closer to Linda. Linda’s face paled in fright as she kept backing away: “Go, go, go! So filthy! Don’t touch my clothes—you can’t afford to pay for them!” My mother watched my actions, the disgust in her eyes deepening. She looked away, the corners of her mouth lifting in a smile of satisfied revenge. “Take her upstairs.” After giving instructions to a nearby servant, my mother turned to socialize. I was left alone in a spacious guest room on the second floor. The servant pointed to the dress on the bed and said expressionlessly: “Madam wants you to clean yourself up and change into new clothes.” After the door closed, I let out a long breath. Walking to the mirror, I pulled off my hoodie. My skin was covered with wounds of all sizes. These were marks left from five years of struggling at the bottom with my scumbag father. When he got drunk, he’d get violent, and I could only endure it. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Warm water washed over my exhausted body, taking away the fishy smell. Just then, a sharp pain pierced through the depths of my mind. I bent over in agony, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. My vision began to blur. A strong taste of blood surged from deep in my throat. I opened my mouth and spat blood into the basin. I gasped for breath, skillfully turning on the faucet. Washing away the blood traces until they were completely clean. I raised my head, looking at my deathly pale face in the mirror, forcing out an ugly smile. Time was running out, but I had to hold on a little longer. As long as my mother could be well, it didn’t matter if I rotted in the mud. Just as I was steadying my breathing, a knock came from outside. I quickly wiped away the cold sweat at the corners of my mouth. Rapidly pulled on the dress and hurried to open the door. Outside stood a little girl in a princess dress. About seven or eight years old, delicate as a porcelain doll. She looked up at me, staring for quite a while. “Quinn, you’re so pretty, but you look so weak.” I crouched down to meet her eyes, showing a gentle smile: “It’s okay, big sister just hasn’t eaten yet.” “How come you’re here all by yourself?” She didn’t answer my question but tilted her head curiously instead: “What’s your relationship with Diana? I saw her bring you in earlier.” I lowered my gaze, my voice very soft: “I’m Diana’s daughter.” The little girl blinked, then suddenly smiled: “I’m also Diana’s daughter!” My heart skipped a beat, dense waves of sourness spreading through my chest.

She had a new daughter now? That was good. At least someone would be there for her in the future. But why did my heart hurt so much? Just as my nose began to sting, the little girl added another sentence: “But I’m adopted though.” “Mom said she used to have a daughter, but she didn’t want her anymore.” I froze for a moment. This was for the best. In my previous life, because the family wouldn’t accept me, she suffered half a lifetime of hardship. This lifetime, she finally had a clean, unblemished daughter. I patted her head. The little girl tugged at the corner of my dress, pointing down the hallway: “Mom told me to bring you to meet your future husband.” I followed the little girl down the corridor, my heart racing. What kind of person was the crazy heir of the Godfrey family? Could it really be him? Someone as cold and aloof as he was—how could he have become the “crazy” person others described? The little girl stopped in front of a wooden door, waved, and ran off. I stared at that door, my heart pounding incessantly. I pushed it open. A tall, slender man stood by the window. Hearing the sound, he turned around. That familiar, cold, hard face instantly crashed into my line of sight. It really was Caspian Godfrey. He was more mature than five years ago, and colder. The moment I saw him, memories flooded back of when I’d heartlessly dumped him. Even telling him he was a pauper who couldn’t give me a future. I instinctively turned to flee. “Where are you running!” He reacted extremely fast, crossing the distance in a few strides. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the room. The door locked heavily behind us. He threw me onto the sofa, looking down at me from above, his eyes full of mockery: “You walked away without a second thought back then, and now that you see I’ve become the Godfrey heir, you’re feeling guilty?” I opened my mouth to speak. But his violent movement had aggravated my fragile nerves. A fierce dizziness struck. The world before my eyes instantly twisted and went black. I didn’t even have time to explain before completely losing consciousness. I don’t know how long passed before a cold touch jolted me awake. I struggled to open my eyes. Caspian was sitting on the edge of the sofa, two fingers resting on the pulse at my wrist. His face was extremely grim. Seeing me wake up, his voice was cold and piercing: “Quinn, what’s wrong with your body?” I looked at his tense face, knowing I couldn’t hide it. He was studying medicine—five years ago he was already a prodigy at medical school. Even with just a simple pulse check, there was no way he couldn’t detect how desperately weak my pulse was. I calmly pulled my hand back. Smoothing out my wrinkled dress, I met his gaze. “Brain cancer. Late stage.” His body shook violently, the coldness in his eyes instantly shattering. I ignored his shock and continued: “Caspian Godfrey, I agree to the marriage alliance.” “But I have one condition. After we’re married, you can’t tell my mother about any of my movements.” Caspian stared at me intently. His chest heaved violently, his hands clenched into tight fists. I looked at his pale face, thinking he would lose his temper. But he said nothing. He gazed at my bloodless face for a long time, then slowly closed his eyes. Hiding all his emotions. His voice was hoarse: “Okay.” My tense nerves finally relaxed. I’m sorry. I can only let you bear this pain. But my mother is different. I’m not afraid of my mother hating me, but I’m afraid of her worrying about me. Hatred is better than worry. After I die, my mother will have my adopted sister with her. She’ll only think her vain, greedy daughter is better off far away. I looked at Caspian and said to him sincerely and calmly: “Thank you.”

When I walked down the stairs on Caspian Godfrey’s arm, more than half the guests in the hall had dispersed. The few remaining relatives saw Caspian and immediately put on fawning expressions. But when they looked at me, they still couldn’t hide the contempt in their eyes. My mother sat in the main seat on the sofa, holding a glass of red wine. Her gaze paused for a second on our clasped hands, her expression inscrutable. I couldn’t read her expression, only knew that when she opened her mouth, every word still had thorns. “Since Caspian Godfrey has taken a liking to you, this hopeless case is yours now.” My mother’s gaze turned to me. “Quinn, when you get to the Godfrey family, don’t use my name to embarrass yourself.” Her tone was cutting to the extreme, carrying thick vengeful satisfaction. I forcefully suppressed the waves of stabbing pain in my mind. Putting on a carefree smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Smith.” “I’ll definitely cling to the Godfrey family tree for dear life, absolutely won’t come leeching off your glory.” “After all, I’m going off to be a rich wife now.” My mother’s hand holding the wine glass trembled slightly. She turned her face away, coldly spitting out two words: “Get lost.” The moment I turned around, the tumor in my brain frantically compressed every nerve. The severe pain made everything go black, and I could barely stand. The familiar bloody taste in my throat surged up again, rushing toward my mouth. I bit down hard on my back molars, pressing all my weight onto Caspian Godfrey’s arm. In a voice only the two of us could hear, I trembled as I begged: “Caspian… take me away. Hurry.” I couldn’t collapse here. I absolutely couldn’t let my mother see me half-dead like this. I had to play the role of a greedy, heartless social climber to the end, make her completely give up on me. Caspian sensed my distress and gripped my hand in return. He turned his head and said to those behind us: “We’re leaving.” Then he half-hugged, half-supported me by the waist, leading me out at a faster pace. The night wind outside the estate was cold, carrying the bone-chilling cold of late autumn. The black Maybach was parked right at the bottom of the steps. Just a few more steps. As soon as I got in the car, I could pass out without restraint, wouldn’t have to force myself anymore. But just then, urgent high-heel footsteps came from behind. My mother had followed us out at some point. “Quinn!” “Back then you abandoned me for that gambling father, and now you’re latching onto the Godfrey family.” “A selfish, rotten-to-the-core person like you doesn’t deserve anyone’s genuine heart!” “Once you leave through that door, even if you die outside, I won’t spare you another glance!” I stopped in my tracks, my heart feeling as if it were being squeezed by a hand, the pain making it impossible to breathe. I wanted to turn back and look at her one more time. Even just one last look at the mother I’d fought so hard to protect. But the moment I turned my head, the bloody sweetness in my throat could no longer be suppressed. “Ugh!” A large mouthful of fresh blood gushed out. The severe pain completely stripped away my consciousness. In the last second before I collapsed. In my line of sight was my mother’s face instantly pale as paper, and her figure rushing toward me in a loss of control.

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I traded three years of my life to buy a lifesaving miracle drug from a black market doctor, only to have my fiancé Ethan North casually feed it to his first love when she twisted her ankle. “Vanessa’s foot is badly swollen. She needs it for the pain and swelling. You’re healthy—you can tough it out for a few days.” He slapped the contract terminating our engagement in my face, wiped his fingers, and walked away. He drove off in his sports car with his precious first love in his arms, not even glancing at the blood I’d coughed into my handkerchief. No one knew that this pill was my only chance to survive my congenital heart disease. I clutched the contract and wiped the blood from my lips. That very night, I drove to the North family ancestral estate and knocked on the iron gates that hadn’t opened in ten years. Behind those gates lived the true power of the North family—Damien North, Ethan’s uncle who had been in seclusion for years. The next day at the North family banquet, Ethan walked in with Vanessa on his arm, publicly announcing he would marry her while mocking me for not knowing my place. The whole room was in an uproar. Everyone waited to see me humiliated. Then Damien walked in holding my hand, pulled me tightly into his arms, and looked at Ethan with dark, menacing eyes: “Ethan, come here and greet Emily, my wife.”

“Vanessa caught a cold. She needs this to recover. You have a strong constitution—you’ll get through this.” Ethan’s voice was colder than the December wind. That vial of Western medicine I’d desperately acquired through black market connections was now being mixed into a supplement and placed before Vanessa Reed. Vanessa leaned against Ethan’s chest, coughing delicately twice, though triumph flashed in her eyes: “Ethan, is Emily upset?” “She wouldn’t dare.” Ethan’s eyes turned ice cold. “If your father hadn’t forced mine into this engagement years ago with that port shipping deal, I would never have gotten involved with you, Emily. Vanessa is using one of your medications, and you dare to sulk?” I stared at that dessert, a metallic sweetness rising in my throat. He didn’t know that vial was the only medicine that could cure my heart disease. Without it, I wouldn’t survive the winter. “Ethan, that’s my life,” I said hoarsely. “Enough.” He threw the termination papers in my face. The sharp edge of the paper cut my eye. “I’ve had enough of these three years. Now that Vanessa is carrying the North family heir, it’s time for you to step aside.” The termination papers fluttered to the ground. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I bent down to pick up that paper and swallowed back the blood that had risen to my throat. “Fine.” I turned and walked into the snow. Three years. I’d taken assassination attempts meant for him, helped him quell internal company revolts, and carved a bloody path through the cutthroat family power struggles. In the end, it couldn’t compare to one cough from his first love. The night was black as ink, the snow sharp as knives. I didn’t return to the Sterling family estate. I drove straight to the most secluded private manor in the North family’s holdings. The true head of the North family—the ruthless Damien North, who’d been recovering there for six months—lived in that place. I knelt at the manor gates and pulled out the bloodstained seal representing the highest authority in the North family. “Emily Sterling requests an audience with Mr. North.” The cold wind swallowed my voice. The iron gates remained shut, silent as a tomb. I don’t know how long passed before the heavy gates let out a low groan and slowly opened. The old butler, Harold, approached with a lantern. When he saw the seal in my palm, his pupils contracted sharply. “Miss Sterling, the master will see you.” Inside, there was no incense—only the smell of antiseptic and bitter medicine. From behind dark curtains came a low, hoarse laugh that carried endless authority. “You’ve finally come.” I knelt on the ground, holding the termination papers high above my head. “Emily Sterling has been cast aside by Ethan North. I have nowhere else to turn. Does the promise you made years ago still stand?” A pale, broad hand suddenly pulled back the curtains. Damien wore loose dark silk robes, his chest wrapped in bloodstained bandages. He leaned down, his ice-cold fingers gripping my chin. “What do you want?” I looked directly into those terrifying eyes. “I want the most honored position in the North family. I want those who trampled on me to spend the rest of their lives fit only to kneel at my feet.” Damien stared at me for a long moment, then began to laugh—a low laugh that made his chest shake. “What an ambitious woman.” He pulled me roughly into his arms. The scent of blood and sandalwood immediately enveloped me. “As you wish.”

The next day, in the council hall of the North family manor. The core family members and directors from major branch companies gathered. The atmosphere was tense. Ethan strode to the center of the hall in a sharp suit, full of confidence, leading the elaborately dressed Vanessa by the hand. “Everyone, Emily Sterling is consumed by jealousy. I have officially terminated our engagement. Vanessa Reed is gentle and virtuous, and she carries the North family heir. Today, I will take her as my wife.” The room erupted. The Sterling and North families were old allies. My father controlled half the world’s port shipping operations. Ethan’s actions amounted to burning bridges, but he didn’t care at all. Damien had been bedridden for years. The North family was already his domain. Vanessa lowered her head, unable to hide the wild joy at the corners of her mouth. Just then, from the main seat that had always sat empty, came a light, cold snort. “Did you ask my permission before terminating this engagement?” The voice wasn’t loud, but it struck like thunder. The hall fell instantly silent. Ethan froze for a moment, then perfunctorily bowed toward the main seat: “Damien, you’ve been unwell. I didn’t dare disturb you with private matters. Besides, Emily—” “How dare you.” The coffee cup from the main seat was hurled violently at Ethan’s feet. Shattered porcelain flew up, cutting Vanessa’s cheek. She screamed and collapsed to the ground. Ethan stumbled back a step. “Damien, please calm down.” “Mutual affection?” Damien’s voice carried bone-chilling mockery. “What wonderful mutual affection.” The screen was slowly pushed aside. Damien wasn’t wearing casual clothes, but a somber black custom-tailored suit. What made everyone’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets—there was a woman standing beside him. A dark red gown. Around her neck, the pigeon blood ruby necklace passed down through generations of North family matriarchs. It was me. I looked down at the two people in the hall as if they were insects. Ethan’s head snapped up. The moment he recognized me, his features twisted with extreme shock. “Emily?! Are you insane?! Get down here right now!” He roared instinctively, forgetting who sat in the main seat. Damien’s eyes darkened. His large hand gripped my waist and pressed me firmly against him. “You insolent fool. Is this how you speak to Emily?” *Boom*—those words struck like lightning. Ethan froze in place, his lips trembling violently, unable to utter a single word. Vanessa forgot to cry, collapsing like mud on the ground. Damien surveyed the room, his authority crushing as a mountain: “Emily is my wife. From today forward, she will manage all family affairs.” His gaze coiled around Ethan like a venomous snake, his lips curling into a cruel arc. “Ethan, come here and greet Emily.” Ethan stared at me, his eyes full of humiliation and resentment. Vanessa was already terrified out of her wits. She scrambled to her feet and bowed: “Hello, Emily! Hello, Emily!” I didn’t look at her. I only stared quietly at Ethan. “What’s the matter? Have you forgotten even the most basic manners?” My voice was soft, but each word cut deep. Ethan’s fists clenched tight, his nails piercing his palms. Blood dripped to the floor. Under Damien’s gaze that looked ready to devour him alive, he finally bent his proud spine. “Emily.” Each word sounded like he was chewing up flesh and blood and spitting it out. I watched his humble posture, my lips slowly curving upward. Ethan North, the gates of hell have only just opened.

Damien mobilized nearly all his connections just to give me a wedding that would shake the entire city. I sat in the main hall of the North estate, my fingers lightly tapping the redwood armrest. For three years, I’d worn no makeup and used all the Sterling family’s resources and connections to pave the way for Ethan. Now, a single diamond bracelet on my wrist was worth more than his trading company’s annual revenue. “Madam, Ethan North and Vanessa Reed are here,” the housekeeper Mrs. Harris said quietly. I raised my eyelids slightly. “Let them in.” The two entered one after the other. Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression dark and menacing. Vanessa was trembling like a frightened sparrow. “Emily,” Ethan said stiffly, lowering his head slightly. “Hello, Emily,” Vanessa echoed with a bow. I didn’t respond. I picked up my porcelain coffee cup. The hall was deathly silent except for the crisp sound of the lid tapping against the cup, each sound striking their nerves. After a long while, Ethan—who’d been pampered since childhood—couldn’t endure this cold treatment. His breathing grew heavier. “If you have no other instructions, I’ll take my leave,” he said through gritted teeth, barely suppressing his rage. I set down my coffee cup and let out a laugh. “What’s the rush? I’ve just taken charge of household affairs. There are some rules I need to teach Miss Reed properly.” I looked at Vanessa like a blade: “Miss Reed, do you know your mistake?” She trembled all over and bowed deeply: “I don’t know what I did wrong. Please enlighten me, Emily.” “You don’t know?” I stood and walked toward her step by step. “Yesterday at the family shrine, you—an unmarried woman—dared to wear a crimson gold-embroidered dress and stand side by side with Ethan. Where did you place the North family rules? Where did you place me?” Vanessa’s face went deathly pale. “Emily, please understand. Ethan gave me that dress—” “Ethan gave it to you, so you dared to wear it?” I looked at her coldly. “Do you have no concept of hierarchy? Someone come. Miss Reed doesn’t understand the rules. Slap her face.” Two burly servants stepped forward and pinned Vanessa down on either side. Ethan stepped forward to shield her, glaring at me: “Emily! Don’t go too far! Vanessa is pregnant. She can’t take this!” I looked at his enraged face, my heart completely unmoved. “Ethan North, what did you just call me?” He choked, his face flushing red. “I am Damien North’s legally wedded wife. You called me by my first name—are you disrespecting Damien, or are you disrespecting the North family rules?” I stepped closer, staring at him coldly. “Since you feel so sorry for Miss Reed, you can take her punishment.” Ethan looked at me in disbelief. “You dare hit me?” “Why wouldn’t I dare discipline you?” I waved my hand. Guards flooded in and surrounded Ethan completely. Vanessa threw herself at his legs, crying: “Emily, please calm down! It’s my fault. I’ll accept the punishment. Please don’t hit him!” She cried pitifully. Ethan protectively shielded her: “Vanessa, don’t be afraid. As long as I’m here, no one can touch you.” Watching this touching display of devotion made me sick. Years ago, when I’d taken a bullet meant for him and nearly died from infection and three days of high fever, he’d been accompanying Vanessa to the opera. “What a touching performance.” I sneered. “Since Miss Reed is so understanding, let’s grant her wish. Do it.” *Crack!* The crisp slap echoed. Vanessa screamed continuously. Her lip split open, blood pouring out. The guards held Ethan down while he watched helplessly as his beloved woman was punished. His eyes turned blood red as he roared: “Emily! You vicious woman! I will never let this go!” I looked down at his impotent rage with utter contempt. “I look forward to it.”

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The night before my wedding, my fiancé and I went to try on wedding dresses. The legendary store owner, Sophia—who had studied abroad but never showed her face—personally attended to us. When I saw her in person, I didn’t miss the flash of shock on my fiancé Julian’s face. Sophia brought over a wedding dress I hadn’t selected, her smile ambiguous. “This one was designed by me and my first love together. You and I have similar profiles and figures—it’ll look stunning on you.” I said nothing and took it into the fitting room. It did look stunning. When I pulled back the curtain, Julian was deep in intimate conversation with Sophia, their posture suggestive. I asked him, “Does it look good?” He jerked his head toward Sophia, his eyes reddening, visibly losing his composure—a rare sight. The woman looked understanding. “It’s understandable that Mr. Walker lost his composure for a moment.” I smiled and walked out. “Probably because the one wearing this wedding dress isn’t you, his first love.” Then I turned to Julian. “You’ve seen me in a wedding dress now. Let’s break up.”

Dead silence. I suppressed my smile and repeated myself. “Why?” Julian finally snapped out of it. I opened my mouth to speak, but Sophia beat me to it, her voice thick with tears. “Miss Rivers, this is my proudest creation. I just thought it would suit you. If you don’t like it, you can say so directly. There’s no need to slander others!” “Julian and I are in the past. I have nothing but blessings for you two, truly.” Her tears fell in steady drops. A flash of heartache crossed Julian’s face. He instinctively reached out, then froze mid-air. He strode forward and gripped my shoulders. “Just because of this wedding dress?” “We’re about to get married. You’d better not make a scene over nothing.” The words stuck in my throat, making it tight. I pulled a stack of photos from my bag and thrust them at him. “Look carefully! Who’s the one making a scene?” My chest filled with dense, stabbing pain. I had always thought Julian was my soulmate. Until three months ago, when I started receiving photos of him with a strange woman—all angles, intimately close. The times and locations all matched Julian’s schedule perfectly. The woman in the photos bore a sixty percent resemblance to me, becoming a thorn lodged in my heart. I tossed and turned at night, my emotions drowning me like waves. When I met Sophia, everything became clear. Why Julian loved taking profile photos of me, why he liked me in bright colors. First love and substitute. He didn’t even look. He snatched the photos away and scattered them. As the photos fluttered down, he said, “She and I…” “Undying first love! Rekindled romance! Need me to help you remember?” I interrupted loudly, blinking to force the tears back. Sophia’s sobbing grew louder. Julian shouted, “Enough! Did you come here just to cause trouble?!” The overwhelming sense of grievance stuck in my throat. I shoved him hard and strode away. But the next second, my wrist was gripped tightly. Julian yanked me back into the fitting room, his tone forceful. “It’s raining. This fabric can’t get wet. Change out of it!” I looked down at the wedding dress, unable to hold back the tears that filled my eyes. Right—it was designed with the woman he loved, so even after ten years, he remembered every detail of the fabric clearly. A deliberately lowered voice drifted through the curtain. I peered through the gap. Julian had his back to me, his shoulders trembling. “Why did you bring out that dress? It was clearly…” Sophia cut him off, her eyes red. “Because it’s time to let go. Julian, we shouldn’t contact each other anymore.” “I never wanted to interfere with your relationship. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind losing you again.” He pulled her into his arms. She struggled, but he held her tighter. Sophia looked up, shot me a provocative smile, then buried her head in the man’s neck. A sharp pain pierced my heart. I suddenly couldn’t breathe. Every expression on that face reminded me— I was a fake. I couldn’t control my tears anymore. I grabbed my bag and ran out. Julian caught up from behind and forcibly pulled me into the car. He wiped the rain from his face, started the engine, then reached over to hold my hand. “Vivian, we’re about to get married. Stop being paranoid.” “Sophia and I aren’t as sordid as you think.” The next second, his phone rang. The hand holding mine instantly withdrew. “Julian, the wedding dress is torn. It was deliberate…” Sophia’s tearful voice filled the car. The car jerked to a stop. “Don’t cry. I’m coming back now.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with disgust and indifference. “Using such despicable tactics. Get out.” I met his gaze stubbornly. “The innocent have nothing to fear. Check the surveillance footage and you’ll know.” “I said get out!” I stood in the rain, watching him scan the car interior before finally unbuttoning and tossing his suit jacket at me. “No umbrella. Make do with this.” Then with a roar, he disappeared into the rain. Tears mixed with rainwater splattered on my phone screen, which displayed a message about starting work in a week. Without hesitation, I accepted and booked a flight to San Francisco.

I walked home through the rain. My phone buzzed. My special follow had posted an update. It was Sophia. I had traced her account months ago but never had the courage to ask anything. I’d been secretly following her for three months. Her latest post showed just one image— A small asteroid named Sophia. Caption: Whose stars am I? Julian’s first comment: Mine. I stared until my eyes stung. The night he proposed successfully, Julian took me to a mountaintop to watch the stars for three hours. How fortunate I thought I was—a CEO worth millions per minute willing to waste time with me. Tears dripped onto the screen, making the little asteroid shine even brighter. So he’d been reminiscing about her all along. Julian, when you gazed at the stars, did you ever think about whose hand you were holding? I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all day. My stomach suddenly cramped. The pain made me break out in cold sweat. I stumbled up to find medicine. After joining the company, I was determined to catch up to Julian. To close deals, I could drink through three to five business dinners for one contract. That’s how I ruined my stomach. I picked up a box—empty. They were all empty. My face pale, I curled up on the bed and gradually lost consciousness. When I woke, my forehead was pressed against Julian’s chest. His breathing was steady, his arm around my chest, naturally holding me close. My eyes stung a bit. I blinked to force the tears back. I sat up. Don’t let me keep misunderstanding. Misunderstanding that you, holding me so tightly, actually love me. The movement woke Julian. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “You’re awake? You got caught in the rain today. Let me get you some hot water.” He brought the cup to feed me, but I turned my face away and choked out the words. “We’ve already broken up.” “How long are you going to keep this up?!” Julian’s expression changed. He slammed the cup heavily on the table. “I told you, she and I aren’t what you think. The wedding dress—if you don’t like it, we’ll change it. Besides, you already ruined that one!” I laughed coldly. “You convict people without evidence?” “You don’t need to deny it. Sophia doesn’t plan to hold you responsible or even make you apologize.” Tears streamed down my face. “I don’t want to hear anything about her. I said we’re breaking up! I told you before—if you ever fell in love with someone else, I would hate you.” Julian reached out to wipe my tears and sighed. “Vivian, you’re wrong. I loved Sophia first. You’re the one who came later. Are you going to hate yourself?” “But none of that matters. I told you I’d marry you. Stop being childish, okay?” “You love Sophia so much—go marry her! Sleep beside her every night!” “Get out! We’ve broken up. This is my home. Get out!” I knocked his hand away and pushed him toward the door. He personally tore away the last shred of dignity, voiding all the promises he’d made. True Sophia had arrived, and I, this cicada, should obediently die immediately. Julian watched calmly as I lost control, then sneered. “Your home? Vivian, everything you have now—which part didn’t I give you? I even funded your college education.” “How is it that after all these years, you still haven’t learned to use your pride in the right place? You always act like you don’t need me!” His eyes reddened as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Since you don’t need it, I’ll take it all back.” Like being slapped across the face, tears rolled down in fat drops. I bit my lip hard to keep silent. From the very beginning, I was just a poor student he kindly sponsored. I couldn’t refute that. But standing shoulder to shoulder with him now was something I fought for through more than a thousand grueling days and nights. The self-respect I desperately protected was trampled underfoot. His casual words knocked me back to my original wretched state. Do people always need to bleed something from their bodies to dilute the pain? My stomach churned. Tears mixed with vomit fell into the trash can. The sound of the door slamming made my heart go numb. My phone vibrated repeatedly. Sophia had followed me back and sent a message asking to meet. With shaking hands, I replied “okay,” then listed both the house and car for sale. Everything I’d saved from years of desperate work. Julian, I’m giving it all back to you.

Sophia asked to meet at a coffee shop. “Did you come here to humiliate me?” I sat down expressionlessly. “Did you offer yourself up for humiliation?” Her aura was completely different from when she was around Julian. I caught sight of her phone’s lock screen—a photo of them together. At an amusement park, she and Julian laughing wildly at the camera. I’d never seen Julian laugh so freely. Then my gaze dropped to his wrist, and my psychological defenses completely collapsed. Sophia followed my gaze, triumphant. “That’s from the amusement park today—I randomly gave him that freebie. He loves it.” When we were dating, I once gave Julian a men’s watch, spending all my savings. He politely declined, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “I never wear watches. I have all the time in the world.” Now that cheap trinket on his wrist reached across time and space to slap me hard. So, Julian—does your time only flow for her? I suppressed the bitterness inside and said nothing. “Vivian Rivers, you know better than anyone that you’re not worthy of Julian. If I hadn’t gone abroad back then, this marriage would never have been your turn.” She laughed lightly. “Leaving him to pursue my dreams abroad is my biggest regret. You wouldn’t understand. When Julian and I were dating, you were still following your mom around looking for a new husband.” Before my brain could react, my hand had already raised the coffee and splashed it at her. Sophia screamed. I trembled all over, hurt and angry. I’d grown up in a single-parent home. My mom had been trying to remarry. Julian had even told her that. I shot to my feet and left without looking back. She was right—I really did offer myself up for humiliation. But walking aimlessly down the street, when the evening breeze blew, my eyes couldn’t help but moisten again. Julian, who am I to you? My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Julian’s messages were pinned at the top. He sent me an image—him leaning against the headboard smoking, Sophia sleeping peacefully in his arms. Even though I was mentally prepared, my breath still caught when I opened it. The next message read: “As you wished.” Eyes red, I replied “Congratulations.” After sending it, the screen showed “typing” intermittently. My phone kept buzzing. I stared at the chat screen. After a long while, he replied: “Since you don’t need me, handle the online situation yourself.” Online? Thinking of something, I immediately opened Sophia’s profile. Sure enough, her latest post showed her covered in coffee. In a few words, she painted herself as the rightful partner being provoked by a mistress. As a famous designer with a massive fanbase, her followers automatically charged into battle for her. Following the clues she provided, they quickly traced everything back to me. My inbox filled with all kinds of vile insults. I wiped the tears from my face and laughed bitterly. Julian, do you really not want to deal with this, or do you just feel sorry for her? I unpinned Julian from the top of my contacts and canceled all the pre-booked wedding services one by one. The wind lifted my hair. I repeated to myself mentally— Vivian, don’t look back. I sold both the house and car at urgent prices. The final payment would hit my account next week. I stood downstairs from the company and took a deep breath. Now—time to resign. But as soon as I entered the company, various stares stuck to me. “She still has the nerve to show up? Guess the people online didn’t curse her hard enough.” “I said all along she wasn’t innocent—always throwing herself at Mr. Walker. Turns out she wanted to be a homewrecker.” The mockery drowned me. I clenched my fists hard. Julian and I had dated for five years, but to avoid affecting work, we never went public. Now it had become a boomerang stuck in my back. “Vivian, the Marketing Director’s surname is now Sophia.” My colleague pointed. “Your workstation is over there.” I looked over. All my things were piled messily in the corner. And the position I’d fought five years to earn now belonged to Sophia. To please his first love, I had to hand over my life’s work with both hands. I told myself it was fine—at least I didn’t need Julian’s signature to resign anymore. I looked away and crouched down to organize my things bit by bit. Scattered laughter rang out. When I looked up, Julian stood not far away, his expression dark. He still wore that freebie on his wrist. I turned my face away. “Vivian, pack up and come sign a contract with me.” Consider it the final punctuation mark—one last work handover.

When I got in the car, Julian was teaching Sophia. How to grasp market trends, the company’s product advantages… Things I’d never heard from him. He explained everything point by point on the computer, very professionally. I used to look at him with the same admiration Sophia now showed, watching him so spirited and accomplished. Then I vowed in my heart—I would become someone like Julian. The wedding ring on his ring finger hurt my eyes. I looked away and turned toward the window. Through the rearview mirror, our eyes met. I lowered my gaze. I don’t want to become someone like Julian. Finally we arrived at the private room. When I saw who was there, my expression immediately changed. I stared hard at Julian, asking in disbelief. “Why are people from Sterling Group here?! This project belongs to Huarui!” I’d worked overtime for three months to finally land this tough account. If the collaboration went smoothly, Walker Corporation’s year-end profits would rise two percentage points. Sterling Group had been declining for years. They couldn’t handle a project this large, and Sterling had always been at odds with Walker Corporation. “I proactively canceled the partnership,” he said. “Sterling Group needs this project more.” Slap! I trembled with rage. Julian turned his head, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek. He grabbed the hand I’d hit him with, his voice low. “You said it yourself—you joined Walker Corporation to repay your debt. This is what you owe me too.” The impact didn’t register. My hand shook until it went numb, the numbness spreading all the way to my heart. I stared into his eyes and couldn’t help but laugh. Taking my life’s work to pave the way for Sophia—he was so naturally good at it. I pulled my hand free. “Fine.” I turned and entered the private room. I saw Sophia give a look to Ms. Sterling across from her. The man immediately raised his glass and walked over to me. ” Ms. Rivers, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s an honor to work together. I’ll drink it all—you do as you please.” He drained his glass in one go. The other two men followed suit. Julian was about to speak when Sophia immediately clung to his arm. “Julian, when we broke up before, my father felt so guilty.” Julian fell silent. Ms. Sterling laughed heartily. “Julian, once you marry my dear daughter, Sterling and Walker will be like family.” Julian tapped his phone a few times, then leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry. I had someone go buy hangover medicine.” He sat up straight and filled my glass, not daring to meet my eyes. The high-proof liquor’s scent shot straight to the top of my head. I didn’t look at him. I picked up the glass and drained it. A round of cheers. ” Ms. Rivers can really drink!” An irrepressible nausea surged from my stomach. I suppressed it hard. One glass, two glasses… Soon the bottle was empty. A strong burning sensation came from my stomach, constantly spasming. Each time felt like the pain of near-death. I gasped weakly and rapidly, my face drained of color. Julian suddenly pressed down on my hand, hissing under his breath. “Stop drinking!” I shook off his hand and tilted my head back to pour it down. A sweet fishy taste surged up my throat. I grunted and vomited a large mouthful of blood. “Vivian!” The world became very quiet. I stared down at that pool of blood, actually feeling relieved. Julian, I don’t owe you anymore. When I woke, I was in a hospital room. Cold liquid entered my body through an IV. Cold. Julian heard the noise and jerked his head up. His eyes were red. “You’re finally awake. You scared me to death.” I didn’t speak. He hesitated. “Rest well. Sophia was frightened tonight. I’m going back to stay with her. I’ll come see you tomorrow.” I stared quietly at the ceiling. Sleep peacefully. From now on, you won’t wake up next to this fake anymore. … Julian got up early the next morning to make oatmeal. He carried the thermos toward the hospital room but was stopped by a nurse. “Excuse me, sir, there’s no patient in the VIP room now.” He turned around. “The woman with stomach bleeding from last night.” “That lady checked out last night.” How is that possible? Julian rushed forward and pushed open the door. Clean—no trace that anyone had been there. The thermos crashed to the floor.

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Discovering my husband’s affair was actually a small matter. I was at a parking lot with my best friend, Rachel, checking out a high-end maternity care center, when I spotted his car. I walked to the front desk: “Excuse me, could you check if my husband, Ryan Walker, has an appointment here today?” Soon, the receptionist looked up: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we cannot disclose client appointment information.” My heart tightened. Can’t disclose? That meant he really was here. Rachel stared at the black Mercedes in confusion. “Didn’t Ryan say he was on a business trip? Why is his car here?” Yes. He left on a business trip last night, saying he’d be back by evening to celebrate my birthday. I pulled up his number and called. —Ring—Ring—Ring— No answer. I checked the time: 11:30. “Forget it, let’s just go up.” This maternity care center was located above the city’s most expensive private women’s hospital. It operated on a strict members-only appointment system, specializing in pre-pregnancy care, pregnancy support, and postpartum recovery. I was three months pregnant. Rachel originally wanted to bring me here to check out the place for my birthday. The elevator doors opened, and the receptionist greeted us with a practiced smile: “Hello, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” “Yes, under Anna—” “No.” I pulled my friend back behind me: “It’s under my husband’s name, Ryan Walker.” The staff member paused, then looked down at her computer. Then she looked up: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Due to client privacy, I cannot confirm specific appointment details with you.” My heart tightened. Can’t disclose? That meant he really was here.

Rachel looked at me with concern. She understood immediately. A man who claimed to be on a business trip out of town suddenly appearing at a high-end maternity care center. He couldn’t possibly be here for a business meeting. I took a deep breath and looked at the young woman in front of me: “Here’s the situation. My husband mentioned he wanted to look into pregnancy packages for me and asked me to come today to register family information. I’m a bit tired now and would like to sit in the waiting room for a while.” The staff member maintained her smile: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Without appointment confirmation, we cannot escort you into the client area at this time.” I nodded: “I understand. Could you please call him to confirm? Just tell him a Ms. Nichols is here and ask if he can come out to meet me.” The staff member hesitated for two seconds: “May I have your surname?” “My surname is Nichols. My husband’s name is Ryan Walker.” She entered the information into the system to search, then picked up the internal line. My heart jumped to my throat. “Hello, Mr. Walker. This is the front desk. A Ms. Nichols is here, saying she’s come to register family information for the package you inquired about. Would you be available to come out to meet her?” There was a long pause on the other end. “What did you say?” The staff member turned to me: “Ma’am, may I have your full name?” “Emma Nichols.” “Alright.” She spoke into the receiver again: “A woman named Emma Nichols is at the front desk. Would you be available to come out?” One second. Two seconds. Just when I thought he’d hung up, a response finally came from the other end: “I’ll be right there.” The call ended. The staff member gave a professional smile: “Ms. Nichols, you may wait in the lounge area.” I barely managed to stay standing by gripping Rachel’s arm. He really was… here. But for now, I only knew he was at this maternity center. I didn’t know who he came with. The staff wouldn’t tell me. That was private information. Ironic, wasn’t it? The rules protected his privacy while he accompanied another woman to look at postpartum suites, but wouldn’t give his own wife a heads-up. My phone lit up. It was a call from Ryan. I watched his name flashing on the screen and pressed decline. Soon, my phone vibrated again. “Emma, the company suddenly arranged for me to discuss a collaboration here. You guys look around, I’ll be right down.” “What did Ryan say?” I turned my screen toward Rachel. She glanced at it, and two words squeezed through her teeth: “Bastard.” “How shameless can he be?” She stared at me, her eyes redder than mine: “But we still don’t know who he came with.” I glanced at the warm yellow lighting in the center and the rows of pamphlets as polished as showroom displays, then took a deep breath: “Who says I’m going to ask now?” “Then what are you—” “Wait for him to come.”

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Ever since my husband started staying at his late teammate’s widow’s house during every leave. I noticed my daughter began writing “My dad disappeared” in her essays. The teacher called to confirm. I was silent for a moment. Yes, it’s been a long time. For Father’s Day crafts in my daughter’s class, they had to make cards for their dads. She lay at her desk, folded a paper airplane, and carefully wrote four words: “For Heaven.” On parent visiting day, the walls were covered with children’s essays titled “My Dad.” My daughter wrote: My dad went to the neighbor lady’s house. That lady kept crying, and then Dad disappeared and never came back. Later, my husband finally noticed something was wrong and rushed home in a panic, bringing flowers to celebrate our daughter’s birthday. When the door opened, there was a new essay by my daughter on the table, titled “If Dad Were Still Alive.” “Mia, is this how you teach our child?” Luke stared at the open composition book on the table. The top line, written in pencil, read “If Dad Were Still Alive.” Luke’s smile faded as his eyes widened. “I’m alive and well, and you let her write that I’m dead in her essay?!” He turned to look at me, raising his voice and slamming the cake he was holding onto the table. “I didn’t teach her that.” “She wrote it herself.” Luke clenched his jaw and grabbed the composition book as if to tear it up. He stared at his daughter’s handwriting for a moment, then put the book down. He had no idea this wasn’t the first time Nina had written about him being dead in her essays. Ever since he brought his late teammate’s widow, Linda, and her son back to our city, he ceased to exist as a father in our daughter’s world. I said nothing more, just watched him coldly. Nina heard the commotion and walked out of the bedroom. She wore faded pajamas and hid behind me. She didn’t run over to call him “Dad” like before, nor did she cry in fear at Luke’s rage. She just looked at Luke with calm eyes. Like looking at a stranger. That look was more piercing than any tantrum. Luke’s breathing hitched, and all his anger seemed to lodge in his throat, blocked by his daughter’s indifferent expression. He tugged irritably at his tie, suppressing his temper, and pulled a shoebox from the bag behind him. “Nina, come here.” He tried to make his voice sound gentle. “Dad passed by the mall today and bought you the ballet shoes you wanted most.” “Aren’t you taking your exam next month?” “Come try them on and see if they fit.” Those were the ballet shoes Nina had been looking at in the shop window for three months. Luke always said he’d buy them “next time.” If this were before, Nina would have jumped for joy. But now, Nina didn’t move. Seeing this, Luke sighed and knelt down on his own, opening the shoebox and reaching for his daughter’s foot. Just as his hand was about to touch Nina’s ankle. His phone rang. It was a special ringtone—soft music. Everyone at the security company knew this was Linda’s exclusive ringtone. Luke’s hand snapped back as if electrocuted. He reflexively stood up and pulled out his phone to answer. “Linda, what’s wrong?” His voice carried a tenderness and urgency he himself hadn’t even noticed. Linda’s pitiful crying came through the phone. “Luke, I’m sorry to bother you again.” “But Ryan had an asthma attack in the middle of the night. He’s crying and calling for Uncle Luke.” “I really can’t handle him alone. I’m so scared.” Standing nearby, I heard this clumsy yet familiar sob story and felt my stomach churn. Luke’s expression changed. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He casually tossed the ballet shoes onto the carpet and grabbed his car keys. “Mia, watch our daughter. Ryan’s situation is urgent. I have to go over there right now.” He said it so righteously, as if abandoning his biological daughter to care for someone else’s son was perfectly natural. Bang. The door slammed shut. He didn’t even look back at his daughter. The house fell silent as death. Nina walked forward and looked down at the ballet shoes. Then she bent down, picked up the shoes, and threw them into the nearby trash can. “Mom.” Nina turned to look at me, her voice floating. “Dead people don’t buy shoes, right?” My heart felt like it was being torn apart, and even breathing carried the taste of blood. I knelt down and hugged my daughter tightly, stroking her hair. “Right.” After Nina fell asleep, I sat alone in the study and opened the bottom drawer. Inside lay a transfer notification already stamped with the official seal. I’m an orthopedic attending physician. To accommodate Luke’s work, I’d given up three opportunities to study at the best orthopedic hospital in America. But now, I didn’t want to stay in this cesspool anymore. I picked up a red pen and heavily circled a date on the desk calendar fifteen days away. That was the final deadline to report for the transfer. In fifteen days, my daughter and I would leave this city. As if this person had never existed in our lives.

Countdown Day 10. I’d just finished a six-hour emergency surgery and dragged my exhausted body home. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I froze. The front door was wide open, and I could hear moving workers shouting inside. I hurried in, and the scene before my eyes made my blood run cold. The living room was a mess. Several workers were carrying the piano out of Nina’s study. Luke stood to the side in casual clothes, directing them. “Be careful, don’t scratch the edges. This piano’s expensive.” That was the Steinway piano I’d saved up three years’ worth of night shift pay to buy for Nina’s fifth birthday. Nina polished it every single day, treating it like her most precious possession. “Luke, what are you doing?” I walked over with a cold face, blocking the workers. Luke saw me come home early, and a flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly covered by self-righteousness. “Don’t make trouble here.” “Linda just rented a new place. Ryan’s being teased at school for not having a dad. The doctor said learning piano could heal his psychological trauma.” He paused. “Linda’s raising a kid alone—it’s not easy. She can’t afford a piano this nice.” “Nina hasn’t been playing much lately anyway. We’ll just lend it to Ryan for a bit.” I listened to his absurdly twisted logic and laughed in anger. Using his biological daughter’s treasure to fill another child’s wounds? How could he make such blatant favoritism sound so reasonable? If this were before, I definitely would have rushed over and fought with him to keep the piano. Instead, I took out my phone, opened the video function, and recorded the workers’ movements and Luke’s face. “What are you recording?” Luke frowned and stepped forward to grab my phone. I stepped back, avoiding his hand. “Keeping evidence.” “This is marital property. You’re privately transferring it to an outsider. I have the right to record it.” Luke’s face darkened. “Mia, why have you become so cold and calculating?” “That’s Sean’s son!” “Sean died saving me! It’s just a damn piano. Do you really need to be so petty?” He pulled out his phone and transferred five thousand dollars to me. “Fine, consider this me buying it out.” “Just go buy Nina a cheaper electric keyboard to practice on.” With that, he directed the workers to carry the piano out. The door closed. I looked at the empty study and felt suffocated. Not long after, Nina came home from school. She walked to the study door with her backpack and stopped. The space where the piano had been was empty, leaving only four indentations on the wooden floor. Nina didn’t cry or ask me where the piano went. She just silently walked back to her room and opened the composition book Luke had crumpled. She picked up her pencil and quietly wrote a fourth essay. The title was “My Dead Dad Took My Piano Away Too.” I stood outside the door watching my daughter’s thin silhouette, my eyes stinging. My phone vibrated. I opened SnapChat—it was a post from Linda’s feed. In the photo, Ryan sat at that piano, smiling brightly. The caption read: Ryan finally has his first piano. Thank you to dearest Captain Luke for giving us mother and son the light to live. Below it was Luke’s like. I stared at that photo for a long time, then finally liked it too. I switched out of SnapChat and opened my banking app, paying the full balance on the house in my transfer location all at once. Right after I completed the payment, Luke sent a text. [Once Ryan’s emotions stabilize, I’ll take leave next weekend and take Nina to Disneyland to make it up to her.] [Stop teaching our kid to hold grudges.] I looked at the word “make it up” on the screen and sneered mockingly. I didn’t reply. He didn’t know there would be no next weekend.

Countdown Day 3. Today was the awards ceremony for the provincial children’s art competition. Nina wore the new princess dress I’d bought her and sat in the front row of the art gallery. Her eyes were fixed on the entrance doors, unblinking. I sat beside her, holding her slightly sweaty little hand, my heart aching. I knew that man wouldn’t come, but children always hope. Nina said quietly, “Mom, Dad said he’d definitely come watch me receive my award today.” I didn’t speak, just held her hand tighter. Ten minutes before the ceremony began, my phone lit up. Luke sent a message. [Emergency task came up. Can’t get away.] [Tell Nina I’m sorry for me.] The familiar excuse. The familiar broken promise. I turned my phone face down on my lap without telling Nina. Nina looked back at the entrance. “Maybe he’s stuck in traffic.” The ceremony proceeded smoothly. The host picked up the microphone. “Now, we’ll reveal the grand prize winner of this competition!” Nina’s hand squeezed my fingers. “The winning piece: ‘Dad in the Flames’!” The big screen lit up, displaying Nina’s painting. The Luke in the picture wore rescue gear, his back to the flames. She’d spent half a month painting this picture of her dad. It was filled with her admiration for him. Nina stood up and looked back at me. “Mom! It’s my painting!” I smiled, ready to push her toward the stage. The host continued, “Please welcome the winner, Ryan Sean, to receive the award!” The smile on Nina’s face froze. The signature in the bottom right corner of the screen read “Ryan Sean,” not “Nina Brown.” Her painting—the signature had been changed to Linda’s son’s name. Nina stood frozen in place, opening her mouth but making no sound. A parent nearby leaned over, whispering, “Why did that little girl stand up? Didn’t they call Ryan?” Nina heard it. She sat back down in her chair and lowered her head. I clenched my fists and walked straight toward the family section. Linda was just standing up with Ryan, straightening his tie. I blocked her path. “Linda, stop right there.” Linda looked up, the smile still on her face. “Oh, Mia, you’re here too?” I stared at her. “That painting was drawn by my daughter. What right does your son have to sign it?” Linda stepped back, lowering her voice and shrinking her shoulders. “Mia, don’t be angry. Luke handled this himself. I didn’t know anything…” She paused, then leaned closer, speaking in a voice only we could hear, and smiled. “But Mia, who drew the picture doesn’t really matter, does it? What matters is who Luke wants to cherish.” “So what if your daughter stayed up late every night painting? With one word, Luke gave all her hard work to our Ryan, didn’t he?” “That’s what they call love by association. No matter how angry you get, you can’t change the fact that Luke doesn’t care about you two at all.” “You’re shameless!” Looking at her face, I raised my hand and slapped her. Linda’s head snapped to the side as she clutched her face and cried out. I was about to drag her to find the organizers when someone rushed out from the side and shoved me hard. “Mia! What the hell is wrong with you!” I was pushed back several steps, my lower back hitting the back of a chair. I bent over in pain. I looked up. It was Luke. He protected Linda and Ryan behind him, glaring at me with red eyes. Linda buried herself against Luke’s back, crying. “Luke, it hurts so much… Don’t blame Mia. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let Ryan accept this award. I’ll return it…” Luke saw the red mark on Linda’s face, held her tighter, then turned and pointed at me angrily. “Mia, are you sick! Hitting people in public—do you realize you look like a shrew right now!” I steadied myself against the chair and looked at him. “Luke, that painting took Nina half a month to finish. You put Ryan’s name on it, and now you’re shoving me for this woman?” “It’s just a painting!” Luke cut me off. “Nina can paint more! Ryan grew up without a father! He’s being mocked by classmates! He needs this kind of recognition to build confidence!” “Sean died saving me! What’s wrong with giving an award to his son?” “As an elder, you have no generosity at all. You even hit Linda. You’re completely unreasonable!” Shrew. Unreasonable. My daughter had her work stolen—the painting of her father stolen. I sought justice, and in return, her biological father shoved me to the ground for another woman. I shut my mouth. Ryan was led onto the stage by staff. He held up the trophy, standing in front of Nina’s painting, smiling at the camera. Linda leaned into Luke’s embrace, the corners of her mouth lifting. She picked up the microphone, her voice choking. “Ryan could have today all thanks to his godfather, Captain Luke…” “Captain Luke treats us mother and son better than family…” Luke sighed. “Mom.” A voice called from behind. I turned around. Nina stood not far away. She looked at Ryan holding the trophy, at Luke embracing Linda, at me clutching my waist. “Nina…” I tried to reach for her. Nina stepped back. She looked down at the contestant badge on her chest. She reached out and tore the badge apart bit by bit, throwing it into a nearby trash can. She stood up and dusted off her hands. “Mom, let’s go.” My daughter kept her little face tense, forcing back tears. My heart was breaking. I walked over and hugged my daughter tightly without a word. I turned and left that place. I didn’t argue anymore. Arguing with a blind and heartless man was pointless. When we got home, Nina sat in her room for a long time, then opened her composition book and wrote a new entry. The title was “Dad Gave My Painting to Someone Else and Hit Mom for Them.” I opened the booking app and changed our flight tickets to the day after tomorrow.

The day before leaving. I took Nina to buy necessities at the downtown mall. The mall was crowded with people. Nina held my hand and stopped as we passed a pizza restaurant. I followed her gaze. Through the glass, I saw Luke. He was patiently cutting a small piece of pizza with a knife and fork, blowing on it, then carefully feeding it to Ryan. Linda sat beside him, smiling happily, naturally pulling out a napkin to wipe sauce from the corner of Luke’s mouth. A family of three, happy and harmonious. Watching this scene, I actually felt like laughing. This was his so-called emergency task. His lie exposed right to my face—ridiculous and ironic. Nina’s little hand gripped the corner of my clothes tightly as she asked quietly, “Mom, isn’t Dad supposed to be working?” I laughed coldly and pulled Nina to leave. A piercing alarm suddenly sounded. The next second, a massive explosion erupted from the kitchen in the first-floor dining area. Flames and thick smoke burst through the mall’s interior glass walls. The crowd screamed and surged toward the emergency exits. “Nina!” I shouted, instinctively grabbing my daughter’s hand. But the crowd was like a madness with no direction. A burly man crashed into me from the side. My back hit something and I stumbled, falling to the ground. My hand was empty. “Mom!” By the time I scrambled up, thick smoke had spread to the second floor. I searched through the crowd. Through the black smoke, I saw Nina fall under a counter. She was blocked by a fallen advertising board. Just then, a figure rushed out. It was Luke. He immediately began evacuating people. He saw her! He saw his daughter fallen under the counter! From the other side came Linda’s scream. “Luke!” “Help!” “Ryan’s trapped under a shelf!” Luke’s body went rigid. He turned back, staring at his biological daughter so close by, his eyes filled with a struggle I couldn’t understand. That struggle lasted less than two seconds. He shouted toward Nina. “Nina, don’t move!” “Dad will come back for you after getting Ryan out!” With that, I watched him decisively turn and rush toward that other woman and her child. He picked up Ryan, protecting Linda as they rushed toward the safety passage. In a life-or-death moment, he abandoned his biological daughter once again. Watching this scene, I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. With one “wait a moment,” he gave up on his own daughter. In the billowing smoke. Nina watched Luke disappear, her small body motionless. She stopped crying, stopped calling out. She just slowly lowered the little hand covering her nose and mouth, letting the choking black smoke pour into her throat. A tear slid down her cheek as her lips moved. “Mom, Dad went to save someone else… Today, Nina really has no dad anymore.” Those words pierced through my last shred of rationality. I screamed, grabbed a fire extinguisher from the corner, and smashed at the obstacles blocking the way like a madwoman. “Nina!” “Mom’s here!” “Mom’s here!” I scooped up my daughter, who was about to lose consciousness, covered her face with my jacket, and rushed out. The moment I ran out of the fire scene, an ambulance had just arrived. I rushed onto the vehicle carrying my oxygen-deprived daughter. Outside the emergency room, the red light came on. I collapsed onto the bench. I took out my phone and opened my lawyer’s chat. [I’ve signed the divorce agreement.] [Go through litigation. Cut all ties completely.] After sending it, I opened the booking app. I changed our originally tomorrow’s flight to tonight’s earliest available one. I didn’t want to stay in this place for one more second. Luke, you’ve lost us forever.

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