The Mayor’s son was being held hostage. My sniper rifle was set, just waiting for the order to fire. But right at that critical moment, my husband, the team captain, suddenly called a halt. He said we had to wait for his idealized ‘Moonlight’—the negotiation expert—to arrive and try to talk him down first. In my last life, it was exactly like this. The negotiation was useless. That expert dithered and dragged her feet, only agitating the hostage-taker even more, making him press the knife against the hostage’s neck until blood seeped through. I couldn’t stand it. I decisively pulled the trigger, taking down the perp with a single shot and saving the hostage. But the negotiation expert completely collapsed on the spot, utterly humiliated. She ended up having a breakdown and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. My husband never said a single word in my defense. Instead, he assigned me to an undercover mission. Worst of all, just as the operation was about to wrap up, he called me, exposing my position. “You couldn’t wait a few extra minutes? You just *had* to humiliate Serena?” “Trying to steal the glory, huh? Fine, go ahead and be a hero right here!” As soon as the call ended, the gang members swarmed me, grabbing me on the spot. They sliced me, piece by piece, the agony so blinding I couldn’t even keep my thoughts straight. My last sight before dying was him and that expert arriving on the scene, both looking grief-stricken. Then I opened my eyes, and everything reset. The hostage-taker stood in the exact same spot, the hostage in his grip. My finger, which had been resting on the trigger, slowly eased up. This time, I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to see exactly how those two would clean up this disaster.

“Only seven minutes left! What’s the status of the negotiations? Any news from over there?” “The assault team and bomb squad are in position. Is the negotiation happening or not? We’re ready to breach at any moment!” Commander Riley, the deputy, had yelled into the public channel for the fourth time. But the only response was Derek’s impatient fury. “I’m telling you again, you’re just the deputy! Who gave you permission to speak out of turn? Everything goes through me, understand?!” “Serena will be fine. It’s her first real mission, it’s normal to be a bit nervous. Just give her more time, she’ll get it done.” But Commander Riley couldn’t wait. He was positioned directly above the hostage-taker’s floor, hearing everything crystal clear through his comms. “Serena’s just fanning the flames! Everything she’s saying is only provoking him! If the hostage gets hurt, can you handle the consequences?!” Derek, without a word, immediately cut Commander Riley’s comms and continued to yell into his headset: “I said wait, so you wait! What’s with all the questions?!” Then he suddenly turned to me: “Cassidy, what do you think?” I released my finger from the trigger, replying calmly: “I’ll follow Derek’s lead. He’s the commander-in-chief right now, we should obey orders.” Derek clearly paused at my words, but quickly recovered: “Hear that? Look at Cassidy, *that’s* what I call a teammate!” “Everyone listen up, any action must be approved by me first! Nobody moves until I say go!” I observed the hostage-taker through my sniper scope. His face was getting redder, his breathing ragged, and the knife in his hand trembled. He was clearly losing control. Meanwhile, that so-called negotiation expert, Serena, was still rambling on, like she was giving a speech, completely oblivious that the perp was about to snap. *This* was Derek’s highly-praised “professional”? Bombs had already been planted throughout the building. If the hostage-taker pressed the remote, the entire structure would be blown to smithereens. Yet, Derek insisted on letting a rookie negotiation expert experiment, using the entire team’s lives as collateral. In my last life, I was too hasty. In that split second, I fired my shot, pulling the terrified hostage to safety. Serena’s useless performance was obvious to the whole team. Afterwards, she became a joke, everyone mocked her. Gambling with everyone’s lives, only getting a few laughs was the team being merciful. She couldn’t handle the pressure and eventually quit, checking herself into a psychiatric hospital. As for me, I was promoted for the successful rescue. But Derek said nothing. For my next mission, he sent me undercover into a gang. Just before the raid, after I’d secured my position, he suddenly sent my coordinates to the gang. The gang members found me, tied me to a street light pole, and sliced me to death, piece by piece. The last thing I saw before I died was Derek standing in the distance, speaking into his phone, saying “revenge served.” I didn’t need to guess. It was definitely on Serena’s behalf. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. I wanted to see how long they could keep this charade going. Five minutes left. Everyone in the building held their breath, except for Serena, who stood casually in front of the hostage-taker. “Hey, buddy, no need to get worked up. Put the knife down, let’s just talk this through.” “That knife won’t do you any good now. Release him, can’t we just talk calmly?” Her voice echoed through our comms, and everyone couldn’t help but wonder—*this* was professional negotiation? “Does she even know how to talk? She’s just repeating the same two sentences!” “If two sentences could get someone to drop a knife, what do we even need the assault team for? Is she an idiot?” “Damn it! Are we just supposed to stand here while she plays word games? Captain, let’s move!” Serena heard them, of course. In my scope, I saw her, right in front of the hostage-taker, pout her lips and complain with a whimper: “Well, if you’re so good, *you* do it!” “Derek, I’m done. They’re bullying me!” She started to cry. The entire channel went silent in stunned disbelief. Someone couldn’t help but curse, “Lady, is this a playdate? Are you out of your mind?!” A few hot-headed agents immediately started to yell at her. Serena completely gave up. She turned and ran to the door, banging on it furiously: “Open up! Let me out! I’m not doing this anymore!” It wasn’t that she couldn’t withdraw, but the exit she chose was precisely where we’d set up a trap. If she came out through there, all our previous deployments would be compromised. The agent who had just finished setting the trap and was withdrawing through a detour yelled in frustration: “We went out of our way to secure that exit! I told you not to use it! Are you crazy?!” Before his words faded, Derek spoke again: “What’s all this racket?! Clear that position, let Serena come out through there!” “Dare to talk back again, and you’ll be silenced too! Understand? Follow my orders!” Serena, hearing this, actually chuckled in front of the hostage-taker: “Hehe, Derek always spoils me the most.” Even the hostage-taker looked like he was about to laugh from sheer disbelief and rage. “Oh, really?! So you cops sent a clown just to piss me off, huh? Do you really think I’m that easy to mess with?!” He tightened his right hand around the hostage’s neck, and his left hand pulled a bomb remote from his pocket. “You dare to play me like this? Today, no one is getting out of here alive!” Dealing with someone completely unhinged, out for revenge, required a delicate touch—praising him, building him up to stabilize his emotions and buy time. Even I, a frontline combat operative, understood this. Yet, *she*, the “expert,” was lecturing him, every word poking at his last nerve. A warning blared in everyone’s comms: The hostage-taker had raised the remote, ready to detonate at any moment. Every agent’s heart was pounding in their chest. One press, and we were all dead. Sergeant Miller, the assault team leader, finally couldn’t hold back. He made an urgent request: “Captain! Assault team requests immediate breach! Hostage-taker is extremely agitated! Repeat, request immediate breach!” The word “repeat” was a critical distress signal, indicating the situation had reached a breaking point, demanding immediate action. My finger pressed hard on the trigger again. Protecting the public was a cop’s sworn duty. But Derek’s answer was still the same: “Wait! We move only after Serena is safely out!” “Hehe, Derek’s the best! I knew you’d protect me!” Serena’s childish whine filled the comms, but no one was in the mood to respond. At that moment, the lives of everyone in the building hung by a thread. No one was smiling, and no one dared to curse.

After Serena left the building, as the team prepared to storm in, she suddenly started getting emotional again. “Derek, am I just… useless?” “Don’t say that, Serena. You did great. For your first time, not being terrified is already a big win.” “No, Derek, I need to prove myself. I don’t want to be dead weight. Give me a rifle, let me take down that perp.” “Fine. Take this sniper rifle and head to the roof.” “Everyone listen: no one moves without my command!” The comms went silent. No one wanted to waste another word on those two. My eyes never left the hostage-taker. Only three minutes remained until his self-imposed deadline. But through my scope, I saw his state was worsening. He probably wouldn’t keep his word. “Cassidy, I’m here!” Serena kicked open the rooftop access door, panting as she ran over and stood beside me, clutching the rifle. “Cassidy, teach me how to shoot!” “I don’t have time for your games.” I ignored her, dropping only that one line, and returned my focus to the scene in my scope. She immediately bristled. She kicked me hard in the back, then dropped her rifle and stomped right on my spine. “Cassidy, come on, tell me! Stop holding out on me!” That kick was no joke. It felt like a sledgehammer, my lower back and ribs burning with pain. The lives of my teammates were in my hands. I couldn’t move. I had to hold my position. Seeing my silence, she escalated, grabbing my arm with both hands and shaking it back and forth. Being a sniper isn’t a game. It’s about stability, precision, and ruthlessness. I’d undergone special forces training; her weak grip was no match for my training; I could hold my arm steady all day. My arm didn’t budge. I was at my breaking point, finally snapping: “Serena, if you want to throw a tantrum, go somewhere else! Don’t get in my way!” She immediately started sniffling, complaining into her mic: “Derek, Cassidy won’t even talk to me! I begged her so many times, but she won’t teach me… I knew I was dumb, I can’t do anything, boo-hoo…” Derek, without a word, immediately lashed out at me over the comms: “What’s there to hide? You’re an unmannered and unruly piece of work, no wonder you’re so dense!” I was an orphan. His words struck a nerve deep inside me, hitting my most vulnerable spot. In the past, countless people had used it to mock and humiliate me. After graduation, I had only ever told Derek about it. He once told me he would be my family. But now, he used the cruelest words to shatter what little trust I had left. I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. But I knew this wasn’t the time to retaliate. I’d settle this score with him after the mission. I refocused on the hostage-taker through my scope, only to realize he wasn’t looking towards the doors or windows anymore. His gaze was fixed right on us. From this distance, with my glare guard on, there was no way we could be seen… My mind tightened. I glanced sharply at the rifle Serena had dropped on the ground. Its scope was bare, completely uncovered. She hadn’t attached the glare cloth! Our position was exposed!

The hostage-taker raised his megaphone and roared towards my position: “You cops are truly despicable! I told you no tricks, and you just ignored me, huh?!” “You even sent a sniper to watch me, are you tired of living?!” “I’m giving you ten more seconds! If that helicopter isn’t here, we’re all going down together!” “Ten!” The air crackled with tension. The hostage-taker had retreated into the most difficult corner for a sniper to hit, the entire situation choked. I stared at the faintly visible remote in his hand, readjusting my position. If I could just shoot that controller, we still had a chance to turn this around. But Derek was still prattling on in the comms: “Don’t panic, everyone. He’s just bluffing. He won’t dare to detonate it, he’s not that ruthless!” “Nine!” I had just steady my rifle when Serena suddenly rushed forward and clapped her hand over my scope. “Didn’t we agree I’d take the shot? Why are you trying to steal it again?!” I yanked her hand away, only to find the lens smudged and blurry from her sweat. “Eight!” I glared at her, but she just pulled off her headset. “I don’t even think this hostage is worth saving. If he dies, he dies. At least I’ll get some target practice.” “I’m telling you straight, Cassidy, if this mission fails, all the blame falls on you!” “Seven!” “Derek and I already agreed, if the mission goes south, you’re out. He’s sick of clueless women like you. Get ready for disciplinary action, and a divorce!”

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The moment I first saw Caleb Reed, I was completely smitten. I put aside my pride as a wealthy heiress, chasing after a guy from a rough background every single day, completely ignoring the sneers and ridicule from everyone around me. But then, just as we were about to get married, Caleb didn’t hesitate to push me into the ocean. Turns out, it was all just a scheme, and I, like a complete idiot, walked right into his trap. The overwhelming resentment was so intense, it actually brought me back to life. I swore then and there: this time, I would make Caleb suffer every agony and torment imaginable. 0 “Do you even realize how utterly repulsive your high-and-mighty charity act was?” My hands and feet were bound together, and I was forced to my knees on the ground. Hearing that familiar voice, I looked up, unable to believe those words came from Caleb. He was the one who always clung to me. He was the one who always claimed he loved me. My body stiffened, my voice hoarse, “What… what do you mean?” Suddenly, my hair was yanked back hard. Caleb’s face was twisted into a malicious, undisguised grin. “Quinn Hayes, you’re no longer useful. Just die in peace!” “As for the company, I’ll take good care of it for you!” Caleb let go of my hair, pulling out a handkerchief with a look of pure disgust to wipe his fingers. Then he waved a hand at his bodyguards. My mind was a chaotic mess; I just stared blankly at Caleb’s every move. He stood there, looking so refined and aristocratic now, completely unlike the poor boy who used to be bullied in school. Before I could even process what was happening, I was ruthlessly thrown into the deep ocean. Immediately, water surged around me from all directions. I held my breath, desperately thrashing my body, trying to break free from the ropes. But the knots were dead tight. Caleb truly wanted me dead, leaving me no way out. My struggles grew weaker and weaker, the feeling of suffocation from lack of oxygen becoming overwhelming. Slowly, I closed my eyes, my tears dissolving into the seawater. I hated it so much. I hated myself for being so blind, for not being able to tell a beast from a human. If I could just get another chance, I swore I’d tear him limb from limb! 0

Light? How could there be light in the ocean? Though confused, I dragged my exhausted body, swimming desperately towards the light. Even if there was just a sliver of hope, I had to grasp it and fight to live. Only by being alive could I get my chance for revenge. I took a deep breath and snapped my eyes open. The surroundings were so familiar: white bed curtains, a faint smell of rubbing alcohol. This was the school infirmary. My best friend, Dean Miller, saw me wake up and excitedly grabbed my shoulders, shaking me hard. “Damn it, Quinn, you’re finally awake.” “You scared the crap out of me. My dad was about to ground me forever.” I felt a little dizzy from the shaking, but hearing Dean’s familiar voice, tears instantly welled up in my eyes. Me… was I truly alive again? In my last life, after Caleb and I got engaged, he went abroad, claiming he needed to take over the overseas company. I stared at Dean, dazed. It was really him. Suddenly, I hugged Dean tightly, sobbing with the relief of a near-death escape. I choked out, “Dean, it’s great, I’m still alive, still alive!” “Everything still has a chance!” Taken aback by the sudden embrace, Dean’s body stiffened, and his earlobes subtly turned red. But he slowly extended his arm, gently patting my back. He said softly, “Don’t cry. I’m here. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” 0

I cried for a long, long time, as if I was releasing all the grievances from my past life. Dean just let me hold him, quietly saying comforting words. My emotions gradually stabilized. I released my tight grip on Dean, feeling a bit awkward and shy. Though my body was that of a student, my mind was already 26. I’d just cried in the arms of 19-year-old Dean for so long; it was a little embarrassing. What was strange was that Dean didn’t mock me. He was so gentle and comforting. Could Dean have also been reborn? I looked at Dean suspiciously, trying to find any hint of a giveaway. He seemed to blush under my scrutiny. That made me even more curious; I even wanted to reach out and touch his face. “Wh-what are you looking at! Your tears are all over my shirt, it’s gross!” Dean turned his head, avoiding my outstretched hand, stammering and sounding disgusted. That typical cocky smirk. This was definitely Dean Miller from high school, no doubt about it. “Oh yeah? Well, it’s not just tears,” I said, unfazed. “There’s snot too!” Sure enough, Dean instantly blew up, ready to wrestle me to the ground. 0

A cough interrupted our playful bickering. In the corner, a boy was looking up at us. He had a fair complexion and wore black-rimmed glasses, the kind of look that usually made teachers fawn over him. Yet, an isolated aura clung to him. Seeing him, all the painful memories from my past life rushed back, and my body trembled. Not from fear, but from exhilarated anticipation. I had finally found my chance for revenge. Dean immediately steadied me, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Are you still not feeling well? Maybe we should go to my family’s hospital?” With that, Dean reached for his phone to call his driver. I put a hand out, stopping him, and slowly shook my head. I said meaningfully, “I’m fine. My body feels perfectly good now.” Seeing my eyes fixed on the boy, Dean remembered to introduce him. “Oh, right, Quinn. Thanks to this guy, he found you unconscious and carried you to the school infirmary in time. You really should thank him!” “By the way, what was your name again?” Dean furrowed his brows in thought, realizing he had no memory of this person, and asked. The boy lowered his head again, remaining silent. Dean said in his usual carefree, teasing way, “What, is your name a state secret? Or are you temporarily mute?” The boy buried his head even lower, still not uttering a sound. “His name is Caleb Reed,” I said suddenly. Dean and Caleb both looked at me, one in surprise, the other in confusion. “Huh? You… you know him?” Of course, I knew him. In my past life, it was because he ‘saved’ me that I developed feelings for him, constantly helping him openly and secretly. I got him a spot at an elite university, then hand-picked him for a position at my family’s company. That’s how I gave him the opportunity to steal everything and take my life. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. You hated my help, didn’t you? Then you’ll get to savor the taste of being utterly alone and helpless! 0

I slowly walked forward, hooked my finger under his chin, and examined his face. I smiled. “You’re good-looking, but your heart is truly rotten.” I raised my hand and slapped him without hesitation. *Slap!* The entire room fell silent. Caleb’s left cheek was only slightly red. He stared at me expressionlessly. I shook my hand, regretting that I hadn’t been able to bruise his face. It seemed my body hadn’t fully recovered; my head felt a little dizzy, and I couldn’t put much force into it. Dean suddenly walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and examined it. It was just a little red, not swollen. I hadn’t been able to hit him that hard. “Are you out of your mind? You just woke up and you’re already throwing punches? Is your body okay? What if you pass out again?” “What kind of person is so important that you have to do it yourself? Am I just decoration?” Dean said a string of scolding words without taking a breath, all while gently massaging my reddened palm with his thumb. My eyes curved into crescents, a smile I couldn’t hide spread across my face. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I hit him? You just told me to thank him!” Dean didn’t even lift his head, his movements gentle as he massaged my palm. He snorted softly. “You hit him, you hit him. Why does there have to be a reason!” “How is your hand still so red? Maybe we should go to the hospital to get it bandaged!” Dean looked up at me, his expression serious. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding me? By the time we get to the hospital, my hand will be fine. You’re worrying over nothing.” “Who am I doing this for? And you have the nerve to say I’m worrying over nothing?” Dean raised an eyebrow, his expression stern. I couldn’t help but beg for mercy. “Okay, okay, I was wrong. It’s all for me. Don’t be mad, don’t be mad.” 0

“Why? Why did you hit me?” Caleb stared at me intently. “Hmm…” I pretended to think. Then, a malicious smile spread across my face. “Because, well, I just find you so utterly unpleasant!” “You honestly disgust me!” My face was a picture of undisguised revulsion. I was giving Caleb his own words back to him. Caleb lowered his head, and the gloomy aura around him intensified. Dean grew a little impatient. “Why waste words on him? If you find him unpleasant, I’ll take care of it for you. You’ll be satisfied, I promise.” Dean took my hand and started to lead me out. “Come on, let’s get you some ice for that hand, make it feel better.” I obediently followed him out, but spoke with a forceful tone. “No, I have to handle this myself. You’re not to interfere.” “Alright, alright, whatever you say. Fine. This stubborn streak of yours, I don’t know who you get it from!” Dean’s voice was indulgent and doting. I balled my fist, about to playfully punch him, but he quickly blocked it. From behind me, an intensely dark and sinister gaze followed me. I looked back. I saw the malice on Caleb’s face before he could manage to hide it. Turns out, his personality had never changed. He was rotten to the core all along; I just hadn’t seen it. Good thing, everything was still in time. I gave him a twisted smile in return, my lips moving slightly as I silently mouthed a few words: “Rotten person! Utterly sickening!” 0

Caleb understood the words. His body stiffened, and he stared blankly at my retreating figure. No, this wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be like this. He had carefully gathered information; Quinn Hayes, the Hayes family’s eldest daughter, was supposed to be simple and innocent, definitely not this malicious. He had saved her. She should have developed feelings for him, not slapped him out of nowhere. No, no, something he overlooked must have happened. Caleb’s eyes were dark, and his face showed a look of absolute determination. 0

*Thump-thump-thump!* Dull thudding sounds echoed from a distance. Such a familiar scene, but this time, things wouldn’t go his way. I smiled at my friend, Chloe Green. “Chloe, you go back to class first. I just remembered I left something behind.” “Oh, okay then! Class is starting soon, make sure you’re quick!” Chloe was a sweet-looking good student with a gentle personality, and I definitely didn’t want her to see what was about to happen. I nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.” Once Chloe was out of sight, I walked towards where the sounds were coming from. A few students, looking like typical troublemakers, were gathered, punching and kicking someone. This behavior was truly appalling. But inside, I felt truly, truly exhilarated. If they accidentally went too far and killed him? Even better. An undisguised smile spread across my face. Suddenly, the person being beaten caught sight of me. He struggled to speak. “Quinn… Quinn Hayes, help… help me!” Hearing my name, the hoodlums stopped their actions. Their eyes darted between me and Caleb, as if trying to confirm whether Caleb knew me.

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My roommate, Chloe, used my photos for online flirting and catfishing, which led to me being harassed by some creepy guy. I stormed over, ready to confront her. But my other roommate, Ashley, just looked at me reproachfully. “Chloe was just so insecure she borrowed your pictures. It’s not like you lost anything, can’t you just be a little more understanding?” Later, I was raped, had explicit rumors spread about me, my reputation utterly trashed. I ended it all. When I opened my eyes again, Ashley was glaring at me, her face flushed with annoyance. “What? Jealous I’m prettier than you?” I took in her sharp nose, delicate skin, and perfectly sculpted figure, a faint flicker of appreciation on my face. I gave a barely perceptible nod. “You really are quite beautiful.” Ashley, who always competed with me tooth and nail, never expected that. She shot me a weird look, muttered “psycho,” and turned back to fussing with her face in the mirror. Her upward-curved lips reflected in the glass, a clear sign of her smug satisfaction. *You should smile more,* I thought sarcastically. *You won’t be smiling for much longer anyway.* I pulled my gaze away, opened my closet, and picked out the ugliest clothes I owned to change into in the bathroom. Then I pulled a pair of black-rimmed glasses from a drawer, obscuring most of my face. Ashley, who had just finished her makeup, glanced over casually, a sneer on her lips. “Summer, finally realized you’re ugly and should cover up?” I simply gave her a look of pity, not bothering to argue. What she didn’t know was that a great misfortune was about to befall her, and she would become the designated victim in my place. That evening, Chloe returned from her part-time job, her ponytail swinging high, bouncing with joy like she’d just won the lottery. She noticed my unusual outfit today and frowned. “Summer, why are you dressed like that? So ugly.” I let my gaze sweep over her and Ashley’s faces, seemingly without intention, then smiled. “Well, there are a lot of bad people out there. Dressing too flashy just makes you a target.” My words hit a raw nerve with both of them. Their faces darkened, and the air immediately fell silent. Watching Ashley’s oblivious expression, I mused silently. *Ashley, Ashley, I’ve hinted enough. What happens next? I won’t be helping you anymore.* A look of schadenfreude I didn’t even realize was there played on my face. Chloe’s gaze reluctantly left me and settled on Ashley. I watched her pull out her phone and secretly snap photos. Her thumb scrolled across the screen, the smile on her face growing wider and wider. And I, too, began to smile. *I can’t wait for the show to begin.*

After that, Chloe became a full-blown paparazzi, documenting every aspect of Ashley’s life, especially when she showered. Due to years of neglect, the bathroom door had a large hole that hadn’t been reported or fixed. This made things incredibly easy for Chloe. Every day, she’d creep in with her phone, taking photos. At first, she was cautious, constantly glancing back at me. But each time Ashley showered, I’d pull my bed curtains shut and pretend to sleep, intentionally creating opportunities for Chloe. Over time, once she caught on to this pattern, she became increasingly brazen. Just like in my previous life, that sleazy guy kept sending her gifts after getting a taste of her. A ten-gram gold ring, a Chanel bag, and a Valentino ostrich feather coat. But they were all cheap knock-offs. His lavish displays of affection were so public that even Ashley knew Chloe was dating a rich guy. One day, Chloe received another gift. Ashley, who had been filing her nails, paused, watching Chloe unbox the package with obvious envy. She said in a passive-aggressive tone, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Be careful not to get scammed.” Chloe’s hand, holding a small knife, hesitated for a moment, then she shrugged indifferently. *Yeah, if anyone’s getting scammed, it won’t be her, Chloe. No need to worry.* My fists clenched, and I struggled to suppress a laugh. This time, it was a sapphire necklace. Chloe carefully lifted it from the box. The jewel hung in the air, catching a beam of sunlight. The blue sapphire was crystal clear, refracting dazzling light in the sun, sparkling brilliantly, almost blinding. Even Ashley, who had been disdainful just moments before, gasped. “That’s a Louis Vuitton sapphire necklace. One of those costs over three hundred thousand.” Chloe’s hand, holding the necklace, trembled. She clearly hadn’t expected the man to be so generous. Immediately, her face twisted with even greater greed. She grabbed Ashley’s shoulders, showering her with flattery. “Ashley, you really are the heiress of a major pharmaceutical company. You’re so knowledgeable.” Ashley’s eyes sparkled, and she proudly swept a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like hearing that.” She glanced at Chloe, then pointedly at me, lifting her chin and speaking in a condescending tone. “Even though I’m at the same school as you two, once we graduate, we’ll return to our respective social classes. Be smart and listen to me, and maybe I’ll be kind enough to pull some strings for you later.” Chloe was a small-town girl from a humble background. She’d tricked that man into her life, and her future was still uncertain. She lowered her head, her face falling with self-consciousness. I folded my arms, rolling my eyes. *Such a show-off.* Chloe stared at the necklace longingly for a while. She looked up at Ashley repeatedly, then finally rose and, as a gesture of goodwill, placed the necklace in Ashley’s hand. Her face was full of hope. “Ashley, you promise, right?” A flicker of surprise crossed Ashley’s face. Her eyes were now filled only with greed. She eagerly put the necklace around her neck. She grabbed her phone and snapped a flurry of photos. Chloe subtly tugged Ashley’s collar down, making her look even more alluring. Then, more secret photos. I leaned back on my bed, watching their little drama unfold with interest. Actually, what Ashley had said earlier—”There’s no such thing as a free lunch”—was absolutely true. She said the words, but she herself was deeply entangled in the trap.

Human greed can amplify infinitely at certain moments. As Chloe’s collection of luxury goods grew, Ashley’s jealousy and sense of injustice reached a boiling point. I guessed Ashley thought something like this: *Chloe has a face full of pimples, she’s thin and scrawny, inferior to me in every way. How can someone like her be sought after by a rich man?* Finally, one day, they completely lost their tempers. Because Chloe had tricked Ashley into a hotel where that sleazy guy had taken advantage of her. It was the middle of the night. Ashley stormed upstairs and dragged Chloe, who was sound asleep, straight off her bed. *Bang!* The sound made me leap out of my own bed. Next, Ashley jumped off her bed. Unfortunately, her legs, which had been brutally used, gave out, and her ankle twisted. She crashed onto Chloe. Poor Chloe suffered a double blow today, her face deathly pale. Chloe was already feeling guilty. Seeing Ashley’s furious demeanor, she knew her deception had been exposed. She scrambled up and lunged for the door, desperate to escape. But Ashley wasn’t about to let her. She grabbed a chair and swung it at Chloe’s head. A piercing scream ripped through the night. Chloe swayed several times before she could barely stand, but blood was already trickling down her shoulder. With such a severe injury, her guilt vanished, replaced only by pure rage. Their eyes locked, fierce and full of venom, as if sparks flew between them countless times in the air. The next second, as if by unspoken agreement, they collided. A battle erupted. Chloe clawed at Ashley’s face, leaving deep red marks, while Ashley gripped Chloe’s hair, tugging violently. With each movement, the blood from Chloe’s head flowed even faster. The intense pain made Chloe’s eyes bloodshot. She opened her mouth wide and bit down on Ashley’s prized face, refusing to let go. Ashley’s eyes were wide with shock and fury. Her actions became even more ruthless. *Rip!* A large chunk of hair, still attached to her scalp and covered in blood, was torn away. *Oh, she’s truly desperate now. She can’t afford plastic surgery if her face is ruined!* Just as the drama reached its climax, and it looked like a winner would emerge, Mrs. Davies, the dorm manager, burst through the door. Neither of them mentioned the true cause of their fight, only stating it was a dorm dispute. In the end, Mrs. Davies, with a dark scowl, waved her hand, opting to avoid further trouble. But the battle quietly continued. Where Chloe couldn’t see, Ashley used Chloe’s toothbrush to scrub the toilet and her towel to wipe her feet. Chloe, however, was even more vicious. She directly added feces and urine to Ashley’s expensive skincare products, which had taken months to save up for. Poor Ashley remained completely oblivious. Even as the skincare products reeked, she couldn’t bear to throw them away. Slowly, strange sores began to appear on her face, requiring thick layers of foundation to cover daily. In reality, now, after removing her makeup, she was no prettier than Chloe, whom she had always looked down upon. And I decided to fan the flames even further. I stole the necklace Chloe had given Ashley. That same day, Ashley went insane and shoved all of Chloe’s jewelry down the toilet. I hid behind my thick bed curtains, laughing gleefully. *Well done. Thank you for helping me destroy the evidence.* Fakes were fakes after all. I didn’t want them to discover that the sleazy guy actually had no money. If they did, neither of them would be fighting over him. Chloe came from a poverty-stricken area. If that man dumped her, she’d planned to sell the jewelry to get rich. But in the blink of an eye, she had nothing. Wouldn’t she go after Ashley with a vengeance? She waited and waited, through the night and into the early morning, but Ashley never returned. Frustrated, Chloe had no choice but to vent her anger on all of Ashley’s belongings. The next day, the day after that, until the fourth day. Ashley still hadn’t returned to the dorm. Her fury reaching its peak, Chloe decided to exact her revenge after class.

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Outside City Hall, Brendan’s sincere, loving face appeared before me. “Cassie, I know I don’t have a house or a car right now, but I swear, if we work hard together, I’ll definitely buy you a car and a house! Then your mom won’t object to us anymore.” His voice was as gentle as ever, his eyes filled with what looked like deep affection. My stomach, however, churned violently. I shoved him away and ran to a nearby trash can, retching, wanting to throw up my guts. In my previous life, Brendan had sweet-talked me into eloping and marrying him. Not long after, I got pregnant. My health indicators weren’t good during pregnancy, and the doctors strongly recommended terminating the pregnancy. But he, that beast, claimed the baby was our love child, that the hospital was just trying to scam us for money, and prevented me from getting an abortion. Ultimately, complications from fetal demise caused my IQ to drop to that of a three-year-old. That’s when my nightmare truly began. On camera, he rode the wave of public sympathy, caring for his “mentally incapacitated wife,” appearing in major media outlets and being hailed as the “most devoted husband.” The media praised him, and netizens were moved by his unwavering commitment, showering him with donations. Off-camera, my meals were stale, my clothes tattered. He even used to fling open my window in winter, just so I’d get sick and appear more pitiful during his livestreams, making it easier to rake in donations. I watched him reap fame and fortune, powerless to do anything. This devil even pushed my mother down the stairs when my parents had exhausted all their savings on my treatment and were forced to beg him to use his donation money for my medical bills. He then threatened my father not to call the police, using me as leverage. With the mind of a three-year-old, I saw my mother fall down the stairs and tried to follow her. But in the chaos, Brendan, mid-argument with my father, brutally shoved me down the stairs too. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes again, and I was back on the very day Brendan and I were supposed to get our marriage license.

Seeing me vomit, a flicker of disgust crossed Brendan’s face. Then, as if something clicked, his voice took on a barely concealed delight. “Cassie, are you, are you pregnant?” Pregnant? In my last life, I discovered I was pregnant shortly after getting married, then spiraled into a nightmare. Could I be pregnant already? But I remembered Brendan and I always used protection before marriage. I instinctively clutched my lower abdomen, my limbs going cold. I was still processing, but Brendan had already confidently declared, “You’re definitely pregnant.” “How are you so sure?” I looked at Brendan with suspicion. We’d been using contraception, and he knew it. Besides, I was just nauseous; how could he be so certain? He seemed surprised by my question. A hint of awkwardness flashed across his face, then he couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice. “I’ve seen how other women act when they’re pregnant. “Cassie, this is great news! Your parents only have you, their only daughter. They’ll be so happy when they find out you’re pregnant, they won’t object to us being together anymore.” Brendan was so excited he was almost doing a little jig, and my stomach twisted again. If it were my past, naive, head-over-heels self, I might have thought he genuinely looked forward to our child. But this time, I suddenly remembered a news story I’d seen online about a guy who, to get his girlfriend’s parents to agree to the marriage, secretly poked holes in condoms to get her pregnant. I’d even shown that news story to Brendan back then, condemning the guy as a fraud. Brendan had echoed my condemnation, calling the guy irresponsible and swearing he’d never do such a thing. He said he’d only earn my parents’ approval through his own hard work, which had brought me to tears. Now that I thought about it, maybe he’d been plotting it all along. Perhaps sensing my prolonged silence, Brendan began to hurry me. “Cassie, let’s just get our marriage license now. After that, we can go to your house and tell your parents the good news!” No, absolutely not. I couldn’t get married to him. I knew how incredibly difficult divorce was once you’d signed the papers. As soon as we registered, I might never escape this man again in my entire life. Thinking this, I blurted out, “I don’t want to get married right now.” “What? “What do you mean? Are you now, like your parents, looking down on me because my family is poor?” Brendan’s smile instantly stiffened, his tone becoming angry, his voice rising. The eyes of everyone around us couldn’t help but turn our way. Brendan seemed to draw encouragement from the attention, launching into a tearful performance of his “devotion.” “Cassie, I know my family is poor, but my parents even pulled out their life savings for us to get married. Now you’re saying you don’t want to? What about my family?” As sympathetic glances fell on Brendan, the eyes that looked at me were subtly edged with condemnation. I hadn’t realized before how good an actor Brendan was; no wonder he could stream and rake in donations in my past life. Seeing my silence, Brendan put on a loving face again and reached out to grab my hand. “Cassie, I know you’re just saying silly things because you’re upset. We’ve come so far; let’s not fight, okay? Let’s just go get our marriage license.”

As his hand approached, my body instinctively recoiled. Just as a fresh wave of anger began to darken his face and he was about to say something, I forced a smile, linked my arm through his, and spoke first. “What are you talking about? If I looked down on you for being poor, why would I even be with you? I’m just thinking about the baby!” Brendan’s face lit up with a smile. “I knew you weren’t the type of woman to be a gold-digger, Cassie. So, let’s go get our license now.” With that, he tried to pull me toward the counter. I still resisted. When he looked at me, I said, half-jokingly, half-seriously, “You know my parents have always been against us. They don’t even know I came out with you to get our license. “If they found out I was pregnant and secretly got married, they’d be furious. Forget a wedding fund, they probably wouldn’t even let me back in the house. “But if we tell them I’m pregnant first, they’ll worry about me and definitely won’t object anymore. “And when both families formally discuss the wedding, since I’m their only daughter, they’ll surely give a generous wedding fund.” I emphasized the “wedding fund.” Brendan seemed to waver. I added, “You know how proud my dad is. He would never let me be pregnant before marriage.” Brendan fell right into the trap. After all, in his mind, if I was pregnant, there was no way I wouldn’t marry him. And I had always been so blindly devoted to him; he was confident that this ‘naive’ girl wouldn’t escape his clutches. “Cassie, you’re right. Let’s go back to your place now and tell your parents the good news!” Brendan excitedly gripped my hands, already mentally spending the money he was sure to get. “Wait, you’re just going to show up at my house empty-handed?” I feigned annoyance, adding a playful whine. “Like this, how will my parents see your sincerity? How will they trust you with me?” “Oh, right, right! See, I was so excited I forgot! Cassie, let’s go buy something to bring to your parents first.” Brendan slapped his forehead, feigning a moment of realization. “I won’t go with you. I need to go home first and give them a heads-up. Just buy the gifts and come straight over. Oh, and my dad loves tea.” Though Brendan grudgingly accepted I wouldn’t go with him – meaning no one would cover the cost of the gifts – in his mind, my marrying him was a done deal. So he didn’t say much more, turning to leave to buy the presents. As I watched Brendan’s retreating back, the smile instantly vanished from my face, replaced by a bone-chilling cold.

Leaving City Hall, I immediately hailed a taxi home. My mom opened the door, looking surprised and a little overwhelmed to see me. “Sweetheart, you’re home.” “Mom,” I rushed into her arms, bursting into tears instantly. “I’m home.” Feeling my mom’s warm embrace, smelling the familiar scent of her laundry detergent, I was too choked up to speak. It was wonderful. This time, Mom was safe and sound; she hadn’t been pushed down the stairs by that beast Brendan. “Sweetheart, why are you crying?” Mom patted my back, her voice full of worry. Dad stood nearby, his face anxious. Seeing my red, swollen eyes, his expression immediately darkened. “Did that Brendan boy bully you? I told you before he was unreliable…” Sensing Dad was about to launch into another long lecture about Brendan, Mom quickly cut him off, carefully observing my expression, afraid the two of us would start arguing again. Before, whenever Dad spoke ill of Brendan, I would immediately jump to his defense, and we’d argued countless times over it. I wiped away my tears, took a deep breath, and after much thought, decided to lay out everything that happened in my past life. I omitted the part about my IQ dropping due to pregnancy complications, only telling them that Brendan treated me terribly after my miscarriage. To make my parents believe me, I even mentioned several future events that would soon occur as proof. I thought it would be hard to convince them, but to my surprise, the old couple only looked surprised for a moment before believing me. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, Mom tenderly held my hand. “Of course I believe my own child.” Dad echoed her. “Given how stubbornly misguided you were before, something major must have happened for you to finally see that Brendan boy for who he really is.” Seeing my parents’ unwavering trust, my tears welled up again, mixed with a bit of embarrassment. How had I been so utterly smitten by that scumbag Brendan in my past life, causing my parents to worry so much at their age? “Sweetheart, don’t be afraid. Your dad and I will never let him bother you again.” Mom hugged me tightly, her voice trembling but firm. Her precious daughter, whom she had doted on, had been treated like that; she wanted nothing more than to skin that scumbag Brendan alive. “Mom, I’m not afraid of that scumbag, but he’s a master of theatrics. If I suddenly break up with him like this, he’ll spin the narrative, and it’ll look like our family is in the wrong, which could also affect Dad’s career.” My hand instinctively went to my lower abdomen. “And… I think I might be pregnant.” Mom immediately looked at me with alarm. “How could this happen?” Dad also frowned. “Then, the baby…” “Mom, Dad, even if I am, I won’t keep it. But right now, Brendan thinks I’m trapped by this baby. Maybe I can use this opportunity to get my revenge on him.” My proud and strong father’s eyes reddened. He said in a deep voice, “Sweetheart, what do you want to do? Your dad will risk his reputation to help you!” “Dad, your former subordinate, David Sterling, was trying to get you to invest, right? That scam David Sterling is running is about to collapse, and he’s planning one last big score before skipping town. But Brendan doesn’t know that…” Seeing that I had a plan, my parents were both relieved and heartbroken, unable to imagine how much suffering their daughter must have endured to become like this. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your mom and dad will support you, no matter what.” Just as I finished outlining the plan against Brendan, a knock sounded at the door. “Mom, Dad, Cassie, it’s me.” Brendan’s voice followed.

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The city’s golden boy bit the dust. His stepmother offered me two hundred million dollars to mourn him as his widow for two years. My lips twitched into a smile so wide they almost cramped. Late that night, I was munching on snacks and binging an audio drama in the wake room. Suddenly, a voice echoed from the altar: “Haven’t you heard this chapter already? Why are you listening to it again?” 1 I graduated college, dirt poor and utterly miserable. Just as I was playing a beggar in a film crew, the powerful Mrs. Vivian approached me. “Harper, right? Two hundred million dollars. Mourn my stepson for two years. During this time, you must abstain from any romantic or sexual relationships, keep your heart pure, and sleep in the wake room every night.” All I heard was: “Two hundred million! Two hundred million! Two hundred million!” In the wake room, gazing at the towering portrait of Caleb, the city’s golden boy, my twitching smile finally settled a little. What a waste. Such a handsome guy. Why did he have to die so young? 2 On my first night, I bought some booze and snacks, planning to get acquainted with Caleb. I filled a glass, raised it towards the altar. “Thanks for giving me such a great job! Bottoms up!” “Oh? You’re quite a drinker, huh? I’ll have another with you!” … When I was pleasantly buzzed, a thunderous blast of music suddenly erupted outside. Caleb’s wake room was set up in the back garden of the villa, and the music was coming from inside the mansion itself. I peeked in and saw a dozen gorgeous guys clinking glasses and dancing wildly in the living room. Every single one of them was over six feet tall, brimming with youthful confidence. You wouldn’t find a lineup like this even at the hottest male model agency! Without thinking, I whipped out my SnapChat QR code. Just as I was about to move forward, a voice piped up beside me: “Sister-in-law, aren’t you supposed to be abstaining from… well, everything, during your mourning period?” Oh, it was Finn, Vivian’s biological son. He was Caleb’s half-brother, currently a junior in high school. This party of handsome guys must have been his doing. So they were all high schoolers?! My heart was practically doing a samba. What was I supposed to do? Finn unceremoniously shoved me back out. A moment later, I got a text from Vivian. [If you can also tutor Finn’s college entrance exam scores to a barely passing grade, I’ll give you another two hundred million.] Me: ? A barely passing grade, with three months until the exams… should be no problem, right? Soon, two hundred million dollars landed in my PayPal account, with the note: “Advance payment for Caleb’s widowhood and Finn’s tutoring.” My knees buckled for a few minutes. Did I save the Luo brothers’ lives in a past life or something? This life is freaking amazing! 3 Caleb’s death was an accident. He loved adventure, and during one expedition, he fell into a remote sea area. Rescue teams searched for seventy-two hours straight, only finding a strand of his hair and a small piece of scalp tissue. Experts detected shark saliva residue on it, concluding he had been eaten. With no heir to the Luo family, Vivian organized his funeral. A medium told her that Caleb could not rest in peace and needed a woman whose energy aligned with his to mourn him for two years, or else misfortune would befall the Luo Corporation. Vivian was notoriously superstitious and urgently sought me out, as my birth chart supposedly matched his. After Caleb’s death, Vivian’s ambition seemed to awaken. The Luo Corporation was in absolute chaos, but she braved the storm of controversy and ridicule to assume the chairmanship. Everyone expected her to fail, but she was surprisingly good at it, even signing a major project that Caleb had failed to secure. However, she seemed indifferent to Finn, even buying an apartment near her office for work, barely returning home anymore. So, when I told Finn, “Your mom wants me to tutor you,” he burst out laughing: “Vivian cares about my grades? Are you kidding me?” “She’s your mom, isn’t it normal for her to care about your studies?” He scoffed: “I’ll only say this once: I don’t need it. You just focus on being a widow, don’t meddle.” ? How is this meddling? Two hundred million dollars worth of meddling, and you expect me not to care? 4 To kickstart my tutoring duties, I stayed up all night making him a study plan. The next morning, he tore it into shreds. “Seriously, why are you so hot-headed at such a young age?!” “Harper, don’t waste your time on me. I’m busy.” I knew it. Busy partying, busy fighting, busy sweet-talking his girlfriends. I looked it up online. To deal with a snot-nosed punk, you have to use a psychological approach. So I swallowed my anger and presented the breakfast I’d made earlier: “Here, you can’t skip breakfast.” He gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed: “Granny Sister-in-law, could you please stay away from me?” I gritted my teeth too. Calling me “Granny Sister-in-law,” huh? Refusing to eat, huh? I stood on my tiptoes, pinched his chin, forced his mouth open, and shoved a whole hard-boiled egg in. Then, holding him in that position, I pressed him against the wall. “What do you want?” he mumbled, unable to move. I warned him: “You’re not going anywhere until you eat it.” He finally swallowed it obediently, then fled, looking thoroughly defeated. But once he was out of earshot, he still ground out: “You just wait!” 5 I waited, but he didn’t come back until dark. I lit an incense stick for Caleb, then went out searching. I heard from some guys at a bar that Finn had a fight scheduled and had left hours ago. I hailed a cab, blowing hundreds of dollars, and finally found him under a dilapidated overpass. The situation looked bad. Finn’s crew was slowly getting pummeled, and the other side hadn’t even unleashed their full power. Finn looked a little desperate. I waited until he was even more so, then I grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground and charged in. I easily pinned them under my feet. The fight ended with Finn’s side victorious. Finn and the opposing leader both stared, dumbfounded. “Hey, miss, are you his hired muscle?” The opposing leader, instead of being angry, had a glint in his eyes. I nodded: “No, I’m the tutor his mom hired.” “Miss, how much did they pay you? Can I poach you?” My eyes lit up: “How much are you offering?” Finn roughly pulled me aside: “She’s my sister-in-law, you can’t poach her!” 6 On the way back, Finn looked sullen. I felt like laughing: “Do you lose fights often? I’m not making fun of you, seriously.” “No! They just fought dirty! There were twice as many of them!” He spoke at double speed, clearly agitated. I patted his shoulder reassuringly, but he instinctively flinched, looking at me warily: “You’ve had training?” I paused, withdrawing my hand: “Yeah, when I was a kid, I was always getting picked on. To protect myself, I had to learn some self-defense.” He raised an eyebrow: “You got picked on?” “They beat me black and blue back then. I still have a scar on my forehead.” I pulled back my hair to show him. He glanced at it, and his gaze seemed to soften a little. I smiled at him, then looked away. Me, picked on? Not really. I was just interested, so I took an elective martial arts class in college. Who knew my talent was just off the charts? By the end of the semester, I could even take down the instructor. “How much is my mom paying you?” he asked again. “Two… two hundred million.” He practically roared: “Two hundred million?!” I shifted nervously to the side, my gaze flickering away. It’s just wildly over market value, right? *His mom* set the price, it wasn’t me asking for it. Did he have to be so shocked?! “She only gave you two hundred million, and you’re practically risking your life for her? Are you that desperate for money?! Harper, do you have any self-respect?!” Me: ? Wow, rich people’s insults are on a whole different level, huh? 7 Back at the villa, Finn followed me to the wake room and lit another incense stick for Caleb. He silently stared at Caleb’s black and white photo for a long time. I looked at the photo, then at him. The Luo family’s genes are truly powerful; both sons are exquisitely handsome, as perfectly crafted as if designed by a top-tier AI. If I could just date one of them in this lifetime, I’d die happy. Just as I was musing, Finn spoke, his voice hoarse: “Bro, I miss you.” These two brothers seemed to have a deep bond. Then he turned around, looking at me with that usual cocky swagger: “My brother doesn’t like noise. Keep it down in here.” “…” I nodded dutifully, pretending to agree. What a coincidence, I absolutely hate silence. What living person caters to a dead one? So every night, I held one-sided conversations with Caleb’s portrait until late into the night. Sometimes when I was tired, I’d play music or listen to an audio drama – anything but silence. Soon enough, Finn caught me red-handed. Seeing his speechless expression, I seized the opportunity to propose: “If you give me two hours every evening to tutor you, then I won’t have time to bother your brother, right?” A sly, fox-like grin touched the corner of the young man’s lips. He pulled out two science section practice tests for the college entrance exam, tossing one to me: “Let’s see who really needs tutoring.” The way he said it, he sounded so confident! Thanks to my extensive experience tutoring during four years of college, I hadn’t entirely forgotten my high school lessons. I confidently put down my pen, only to find Finn had already finished and was watching me with keen interest. I took his test, puzzled, and checked it against the answers. I was stunned. I scored 251 points, he scored 27

His tone was triumphant: “Not bad, ‘Teacher Harper,’ he smirked, ‘You’re only one point above ‘dumbass’ territory.’ ” While I felt insulted, this was a good thing! Getting a passing grade for the college entrance exam was practically a done deal now, wasn’t it?! I plastered on a smile, fawning: “Young Master Finn, I clearly underestimated you.” He glanced at the photo of him and Caleb on the table, his voice softening: “Before this, my brother was always the one tutoring me.” “…Your mom doesn’t know?” How could Vivian think her son couldn’t even get a passing grade? He chuckled softly: “Her? She wouldn’t care about me. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her this is all thanks to your tutoring. Consider it payment for helping me with that fight.” I pressed my lips together to suppress a grin. Seriously, it’s like fate is just *forcing* this two hundred million dollars on me! 8 Finn and I reached an agreement: if I really needed someone to talk to, I could talk to him. He had only one request: don’t bother Caleb. I nodded sincerely, looking at the young man’s exquisitely handsome face. I couldn’t help but tease him: “You know, constantly chatting with someone can lead to feelings, right?” He stiffened his neck, acting all proud: “Don’t worry, I’m not into ‘brother-in-law/sister-in-law’ romance tropes. And don’t forget: abstain from sex, keep your heart pure.” *Cough.* Couldn’t argue with him, so I just shut up. With the “barely passing grade” KPI out of the way, I got back to my lucrative career path. I’d always wanted to make a mark in the film industry. The path of an actress was long and arduous, but now that I had money, investing seemed perfect, didn’t it? I’d deeply researched the current film market: capital was too controlling, scripts were rushed, and it was all about ‘influencer’ actors, leading to abysmal returns on investment. This situation was commonplace. I dedicated over three months to value assessment and finally decided to invest in a martial arts detective series. However, the production company wasn’t just looking for investor money; they also wanted investor experience and connections. For a newcomer like me, they naturally wouldn’t risk it easily. So I pulled out the ultimate power card: Caleb. “I am Caleb’s wife. You’ve probably heard, I’m currently mourning him,” I stated matter-of-factly during negotiations. I had checked: information about Caleb online was scarce, mostly just labeling him as “the city’s golden boy,” “Luo Corporation CEO,” and “reserved and aloof.” Vivian had even instructed me to mourn him as his wife. So, my connection was, naturally, the Luo Corporation. The producer nearly choked on his own breath when he heard this: “We’d be honored to have your investment, Miss Harper!” Everything was set, and I was about to sign, when the producer suddenly brought news of a change of heart. I laughed, annoyed: “Who did you partner with?” Who could possibly be better than the Luo Corporation?! The producer handed me a business card. The name on it was “Cole.” Why did that sound so familiar? I dialed the number on the card. No answer. 9 A notification popped up: one hundred million dollars had landed in my PayPal account, with the note: [Final payment for tutoring Finn.] His college entrance exam results were out. Finn’s call came right after: “Harper, I scored… six hundred and fifty points.”

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I was just a struggling guy, and the only reason a rich heiress like Seraphina Vance would ever give me the time of day was because I had a face that perfectly mirrored the man she truly wanted. In private, Seraphina would call me ‘husband.’ In public, they’d mock me as her stand-in, her cheap knock-off. And she? She’d just stay silent. I didn’t care about any of that. Not until the kidnappers made her choose between us, and she didn’t hesitate to pick him. A bitter, desolate laugh escaped me. I pressed my chest against the barrel of the thug’s gun, an act of defiant surrender, and plunged into the crushing embrace of the deep, dark sea. Later, I heard she searched for me like a madwoman. **1** When Seraphina Vance called, I was hauling heavy sacks at the warehouse. It was half an hour later before I even saw her missed call. I called her back. Her voice, when she answered, was laced with irritation. “Liam, what is this? Haven’t I told you to return my calls within five minutes, no matter what?” “Sorry, my phone wasn’t on me just now,” I explained, wiping sweat from my face. “Don’t give me those pathetic excuses. You know I hate them. Now, immediately, bring some milk tea to the Grandview Hotel, Suite 305. I’ve sent you the list.” Seraphina hung up before I could reply. I didn’t even have time to change out of my work clothes. With Mr. Jenkins, my foreman, cursing at my retreating back, I rushed to buy the teas and sped to the suite. I pushed the door open just a crack, and the peals of women’s laughter spilled out. “Seraphina, it looks like your boyfriend isn’t much of a go-getter. What time is it? He can’t even run a simple errand right.” “Oh, please. Don’t lower Seraphina’s standards. Liam isn’t a boyfriend. He’s just a plaything, Julian Maxwell’s bargain-bin version. Besides looking alike, they have absolutely nothing in common—not his status, not his aura.” “Don’t be so harsh. Liam’s been with Seraphina for three years. He’s put in the time, hasn’t he? He deserves some credit for sticking around.” The girlfriends cackled together, a picture of perfect harmony. Through their laughter, I heard Seraphina’s cool, indifferent voice. “He’s just a stand-in. Is he truly worth so much of your precious conversation?” I swallowed the bitter ache that surged in my chest. I waited for their chatter to die down before pulling myself together and stepping inside. The room fell silent the moment I entered. I placed the milk teas on the table, forcing a smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. They’re still cold, exactly as you ordered.” They didn’t respond, each grabbing a cup. They pursed their perfectly made-up lips, sipping the pearls. I looked at Seraphina. “Seraphina, I won’t interrupt your girls’ night. I’ll wait outside for you.” She mumbled an acknowledgment, but her eyes flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible hint of guilt. I smiled, a hollow gesture, and walked out. The door didn’t close completely, and the teasing voices immediately resumed, now tinged with undisguised contempt. “Look at his clothes, so worn out, so… *unfashionable*. Only someone straight from a construction site would dress like that. Zero class.” “Liam’s still working construction? My God, Seraphina, you give him five grand a month, and it’s not enough?” “I heard he has a lot of dead weight at home. His foster father is practically a walking pharmacy, barely clinging to life with all his meds.” “Seraphina, I’m telling you, break up with him now. Being with him is embarrassing for you. Oh, right, I heard Julian Maxwell is coming back. Maybe it’s time for this fake to finally disappear.” My fists clenched. My heart ached with a familiar bitterness. None of Seraphina’s friends ever respected me. In their eyes, I was just a loyal pet, a simpering lapdog she could call and dismiss as she pleased. I didn’t care what others thought. But Seraphina? She thought the same way. Downstairs, in the hotel lobby, I found a spot to wait. I turned my phone’s volume up to the max, terrified of missing another call. About half an hour later, Seraphina and her friends descended in the elevator. Enduring their hostile glances, I walked up to Seraphina. “Do you need me to drive you home?” I offered. Before Seraphina could even open her mouth, Bianca immediately shot back with a snide remark. “Of course she does! Seraphina’s taking us to meet Julian. Come on, you can see the difference between the original and the cheap imitation for yourself.” “Taking *him*? Aren’t you worried he’ll just be in the way?” Seraphina snapped coldly at Bianca, then turned to me. “You can head back. I should be home tonight.” **2** I let out a sigh of relief and returned to Seraphina’s apartment. But no sooner had I laid down, less than ten minutes later, a new command arrived. “Liam, bring some snacks. I want candied nuts, and there are a lot of us, so buy plenty.” She sent me a pin. My budding drowsiness was instantly shattered. I rubbed my tired temples, resignedly dragging my weary body out the door to buy the nuts and deliver them to Seraphina. This time, the private room was larger and far more luxurious than the one from the afternoon. The attendant led me to the door before discreetly disappearing. I carried the bag of nuts inside, my eyes immediately finding Seraphina, seated in the center of the group. Beside her was the dazzling new star, Julian Maxwell, whose charisma was almost blinding. Tonight’s gathering was his. As I entered, numerous eyes swung my way. There was surprise. Undisguised scorn. And mocking laughter. A faint, unsettling unease stirred within me. Bianca, Seraphina’s friend draped in mink, let out a ‘puff’ of laughter. “Look at him, he actually came! Doesn’t he look like a pathetic, obedient lapdog?” She handed the phone, which she’d just used to SnapChat me, back to Seraphina. I saw the Truth or Dare game laid out on the long table in front of them. Seraphina had drawn the “Dare” card. Of course. This was all just a cruel joke. A wave of icy realization washed over me, chilling me to the bone. I looked at Seraphina, bewildered, my eyes holding pain, and a silent question. *Were you complicit in this mockery?* But she didn’t even glance my way. “Here are the nuts you wanted,” I said, a miserable smile on my face, preparing to leave. Julian Maxwell had been staring at my face since I walked in. Now, he suddenly spoke. “Wait. Since you’re here, why don’t you sit down and have a drink with us?” I frowned, about to refuse. Seraphina casually tossed the Dare card onto the center of the table, her eyes sweeping over me with a cool indifference. “If he tells you to sit, then sit. Don’t act like you’re out of your depth.” Several hands from behind me pressed down, forcing me into a chair. The next second, the entire bag of nuts was tossed back in front of me. “You won’t understand our conversations, so why don’t you peel the nuts for us?” My gaze met Julian’s, his eyes filled with thinly veiled amusement. Beneath his feigned pleasantries, I could sense the raw, undeniable malice. As a man, I understood his thoughts. Julian hated being compared to me but couldn’t openly say it. Even if everyone saw me as just a cheap imitation, he still felt debased by my very existence. I instinctively looked to Seraphina again. Hoping she would help me, defuse this situation. At least spare me this humiliation. But I was slapped in the face, yet again. Seraphina coolly tore open the nut packaging, poured them out, and pushed them towards me. “Julian asked you to peel them, so peel them. You’re just sitting around anyway, peeling nuts isn’t hard.” These were hand-peeling nuts, requiring individual effort. And I had bought five pounds of them. A dozen curious eyes fixed on me. Like watching a circus act, and I was the monkey pushed onto the stage. “You’re spending Seraphina’s money, living in Seraphina’s apartment, and Seraphina even takes care of your whole family. For that kind of generosity, you wouldn’t be unwilling to peel a few nuts, would you?” Bianca, the one in mink, blew on her freshly painted nails, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If he were my kept man, I’d have kicked him out ages ago.” “Hahahaha.” The eyes around me grew even more mocking. Someone of my status, in their wealthy circles, was utterly insignificant. A kept bird in a gilded cage, a cheap little novelty to amuse them. How could I not recognize my own place? “Fine,” I conceded, picking up a nut and beginning to peel, carefully separating the meat into a small bowl. One after another, I couldn’t stop until Seraphina said so. My fingers were raw, skin splitting open, the cuts widening with every motion. Drops of blood stained each precious nut, a crimson mark on my forced offering. Just as the pain began to numb me, a hand reached out to stop me. “Liam, that’s enough peeling.” Seraphina meticulously picked out the blood-stained pieces, then, with an almost sickening indifference, offered the clean nut meats to Julian. A sweet smile graced her face. “Julian, these should be enough for you.” “Seraphina, are you feeling sympathetic?” Julian said, a knowing, half-mocking smile on his face, which suddenly shifted to outright disdain. “A plaything is just a plaything. You didn’t actually fall for his face, did you?” “Ridiculous! Why would I ever fall for some low-class construction worker? I just kept him around for entertainment, a distraction,” Seraphina retorted instinctively. She caught herself then, glancing sharply at me. But I simply lowered my head, tending to my raw fingers, pretending not to have heard a thing. The room erupted in laughter again. “Since Seraphina’s pleaded on his behalf, he doesn’t have to peel any more.” Julian opened a bottle of wine with a bottle opener and filled the glass in front of me. “Drink this. Consider it an apology.” Seraphina didn’t stop him this time. The others urged me not to be ungrateful. But I’m allergic to alcohol. Who would care? I gave a dismissive laugh, picked up the glass, and downed it in one gulp. The fiery liquid seared its way down my throat, making me nearly gag. I forced myself to swallow it all. Wiping my mouth, I stood up and left. **3** Seraphina’s calls came one after another as I lay in the emergency room, receiving an IV drip. After a few IV bags, the angry rashes covering my body finally began to subside. When morning light crept in, I returned home. Seraphina was in the living room, her face thunderous. “All I asked was for you to peel a few nuts! You’re so petty! I even came home early for you, what more do you want?” “I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep. Can we talk about this after I wake up?” I said, trying to keep my voice even. My calm words only seemed to fuel her anger. She shoved me hard. After a night of torment, my already weakened body crumpled. I stumbled and fell to the floor, my vision blurring, the room spinning. When my sight cleared, I saw Seraphina staring at the hospital discharge papers that had fallen from my pocket. *Alcohol Allergy.* That single sheet of paper felt like a sudden, brutal unveiling. Her face instantly paled. I slowly got to my feet, too tired to argue. But she approached me apologetically, taking my arm, her beautiful eyes misty. “Liam, please don’t be mad. When we’re out, I need to save face.” Yes, it was a stark contradiction. She looked down on me, yet couldn’t bear to let me go. Or, to be precise, she couldn’t bear to lose *this face* of mine. After all, she’d pursued Julian for five years with no success. I was just her fallback, the low-budget version. If she discarded me, who would offer her comfort? Suddenly, I understood Seraphina’s feelings for me. I was nothing more than a complete substitute. I was a fool for thinking that time might somehow breed genuine affection. If she hadn’t murmured Julian’s name in her sleep the night before, this dream might never have ended. “It’s fine, I understand,” I said, ever the understanding one. What was there to understand, anyway? I’d recognized the truth long ago. No matter how sweet and tender Seraphina was in private, in public, I was nothing more than a dog. A dog who couldn’t leave her. Three years ago, my foster father fell gravely ill, completely crippling our family’s finances. I dropped out of college, hiding it from everyone. I worked construction during the day and sang at bars at night. I was working myself to the bone, utterly exhausted, looking like a zombie. If I hadn’t been lucky enough to catch Seraphina’s eye, and if she hadn’t offered a lifeline, I’d probably have drowned in a much deeper abyss of despair, utterly spent from just trying to survive. So, yes, I should have been grateful to her. Seraphina squeezed my hand, her face filled with concern. “Liam, I’ll never let you suffer like this again.” **4** Those were her words. But the very next morning, when Julian Maxwell called, saying his film crew needed a stunt double and asking for my help, Seraphina immediately agreed. Only when I arrived on set did I realize they needed a double for Julian’s dangerous stunts. By the time I understood the situation, I was already made up and in costume, caught between a rock and a hard place. The scene involved a high-fall stunt. To ensure realism, the crew had built a ten-meter high platform. The actor had to fall backward, losing their footing. Even with a safety harness, it was still incredibly risky. “Action!” My scene partner shoved me hard. In the instant of my rapid descent, I saw Julian Maxwell and the assistant director calmly watching my performance on the monitor, a subtle, unsettling smirk playing on Julian’s lips. “Whirr…” The safety harness suddenly went taut, seizing up prematurely. I was suspended mid-air, several feet off the ground, the steel cables digging excruciatingly into my flesh. The prop team realized something was wrong and started walking towards me. But they were too late. The harness snapped, and I plummeted onto the crash mat. Seeing I wasn’t severely injured, the crew members simply walked away, unconcerned. There was no time to catch my breath. The assistant director grabbed his megaphone and declared that the previous take was no good, ordering me to reshoot immediately. Again and again. Either the fall angle was wrong, or my expression wasn’t quite right. This high-fall scene took me ten takes to get right. I was the one covered in scrapes and bruises. Yet the director patted Julian’s shoulder, commending him for his hard work watching the monitor all afternoon. **5** That evening, as filming wrapped up. Seraphina ordered hotel catering as a set visit. Everyone got a share, happily grabbing their food, grateful to be basking in Julian Maxwell’s reflected glory. I sat there, bandaging the cuts the harness had carved into my palms, the pain in my entire body making it impossible to stand immediately. A bottle of mineral water appeared before me. I looked up, meeting Seraphina’s smiling eyes. “Liam, you must be tired. Have some water. I’ll take you home later,” Seraphina said, her voice soft, laced with a faint concern. Noticing my injuries, she frowned. “What happened? Didn’t they say there wouldn’t be any problems? Liam, maybe I should take you to the hospital first.” Just as the words left her lips, Julian Maxwell’s voice chimed in from behind us. “Seraphina.” He held a drink Seraphina had bought for him, walking towards us with an elegant air. “Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner, catch up properly.” I scoffed silently, a tiny, bitter curve to my lips. Sure enough, Seraphina instantly forgot her previous words. “When do I ever *not* have time for you? Tell me, are we taking your car or mine?” “I’m inviting you, so of course we’ll take my car,” Julian replied with an easy smile. “Liam, you drive my car back.” Seraphina turned, placed the car keys in my hand, and then rose to walk away with Julian, shoulder to shoulder. They talked and laughed, not once looking back. I offered a dry, meaningless laugh. Of course, I knew exactly how it was. That sliver of affection she had for me. It was utterly worthless in Julian Maxwell’s presence. **6** My injuries were all superficial, nothing more than painful scrapes, so I didn’t go to the hospital. I showered and went to sleep. Unexpectedly, I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. In a hazy state, I heard Seraphina return. She fed me a fever reducer, and I drifted back to sleep. It wasn’t until dawn, when I got up for water, that I saw Seraphina sitting on the sofa with her laptop, her eyes lifting to stare at me, cold and unfeeling. She seemed to have been up all night, faint dark circles beneath her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I reached out to touch her forehead. She flinched away, sneering. “Liam, I know you’re upset that Julian’s back. But I warned you when we signed the contract to know your place. Where did you get the audacity to think you could ever compare to him?” I had signed a relationship contract with Seraphina before we started dating, but I didn’t understand her words until she suddenly flung a few printed photos at me. They were screenshots from the news. Photos of Julian Maxwell and Seraphina dining out last night had been leaked, topping the trending list. The leaker explicitly stated that Seraphina had been in a long-term relationship, directly accusing Julian of being the other man, a home-wrecker. Just this wouldn’t have made Seraphina confront me. But one of the photos captured her car, which irrefutably linked her to me. And last night, she had personally handed me the keys. I rubbed my temples, weary. “Seraphina, I was there last night. But I had no idea you two were having dinner. It was a complete coincidence. I was just passing by a pharmacy to buy some medicine.” I showed her my payment history. Last night, I had bought saline solution and anti-inflammatory medication, stopping for a mere ten minutes. It was precisely this unfortunate coincidence that led to the misunderstanding. “Buying medicine? From the set to your place is fifteen kilometers. You pass countless pharmacies. Why *that* particular plaza? Do you really expect me to believe it was such a coincidence?” Seraphina scoffed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. I was speechless. The timing, indeed, was too perfect to explain. And I, once again, confirmed that Julian Maxwell was her red line. I was nothing. My heart went utterly cold. It all felt so pointless. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have gone there.” *Smack!* Seraphina’s slap stung my face. My apology had only fueled her rage. “A low-life construction worker like you, trying to undermine me? If I hadn’t been supporting you all these years, supporting your whole family of invalids and dependents, you’d have been dead in a ditch somewhere!” My face flushed white, then crimson. I exhaled slowly, forcefully. “Then let’s break up. End the contract.” My foster father’s condition was stable. My sister had graduated and started earning money. I no longer had to be this pathetic stand-in. **7** “You’re dreaming!” “Liam, you’re not going anywhere until I’m tired of you. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you repay everything you’ve taken from me over these past three years, with interest!” Seraphina snapped, then slammed the door as she left. I completely lost all strength, collapsing onto the sofa, unable to move for a long time. After our big fight, Seraphina stopped talking to me. She was a master of the silent treatment. In the past, I’d always been the one to humble myself, begging her to come back. But this time, I didn’t. The negative trending topics were suppressed overnight, and the storm died down. Julian Maxwell’s fans stopped threatening to unfollow him. Because Seraphina held a live broadcast, and in front of millions of online viewers, she vehemently denied having a boyfriend. I was merely a charity case she supported. She publicly revealed my family’s circumstances. Photos of my sickly foster father requiring long-term treatment, my sister receiving poverty subsidies and only daring to eat one dish per meal, and me working construction to support the family, all surfaced. With her eloquent words, she twisted our three years together into an act of pure compassion. And the only person she truly, ever loved was Julian Maxwell. With the sole daughter of the city’s wealthiest family publicly declaring her affection, even Julian Maxwell’s most devoted fans were utterly convinced. Seraphina’s immense wealth gave her the power to completely manipulate public opinion. But a prominent figure always draws criticism, and all that negative emotion needed an outlet. Julian’s fans, enraged that I’d tainted his reputation, followed the digital breadcrumbs, doxxed my real identity, and launched a furious campaign of retaliation. Rumors spread that I was morally corrupt, my character flawed. My phone was bombarded with hateful texts, making my life a living hell, day and night… they even sent a funeral wreath to my sister at college. I broke down. I called Seraphina, demanding to know why she had done this. She paused, then vehemently denied it. “Liam, I didn’t allow Julian’s fans to attack you. Don’t panic. I’m abroad with Julian for a business meeting right now. Wait for me to get back. I’ll handle everything.” “Just wait for me!” Julian. It was always Julian. I gave a tragic laugh, my heart turned to ash. **8** I no longer held any expectations for Seraphina. Yet, unexpectedly, one of her friends showed up at the factory looking for me. It was Bianca, the one always draped in mink. She asked me to meet for tea, but I refused.

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The Ungrateful Daughter-in-Law My hard-earned apartment, bought with my own efforts, was a problem for my future sister-in-law. “How can a girl buy a house? Shouldn’t she save that money for her brother to get married?” she’d scoff. She even threatened Liam, my younger brother. If he didn’t put her name on the deed, she’d never marry him. Mom, Sarah, exploded, “You ungrateful son, just *try* marrying her! I’ll make sure you regret it!” It was a long weekend, about two years after Liam graduated. He brought home a girlfriend named Chloe Miller. She was quite pretty, with a pure, innocent look, and she dressed stylishly. But she had a real knack for taking advantage. Mom asked me to pick them up from the airport for dinner. The moment she got into my car, Chloe’s eyes lit up, scanning everything. She blurted out to Liam, “Did your sister’s family buy her this car? A car like this must cost at least a few hundred thousand, right?” I smiled. “I bought it myself with my own money. It wasn’t cheap, about $80,000 all in.” I’d had it for years. I stopped relying on my family for living expenses back in college. I even sent some money to Liam every month when he was in middle school. Actually, our family was pretty comfortable, a solid middle-class household. My parents wouldn’t have had any trouble buying Liam and me homes and cars. But Grandpa Arthur always taught us, Liam and me, that you have to work hard for everything yourself to truly appreciate the meaning of happiness. So, from a young age, I had a talent for making money. By college, I was already financially independent and managing my own funds. “Wow, Avery, you’re amazing! You just bought such an expensive car like it was nothing,” Chloe gushed. “Unlike your brother, he’s been out of college for two years and still doesn’t have a car.” Her passive-aggressive comments made my blood boil. I really wanted to snap back, but I didn’t want to embarrass Liam. So I just said, “It’s alright. Here, have some fruit. I picked it up at the store on the way. You two should try it.” Seeing I wasn’t engaging, she quieted down for the rest of the ride, furiously tapping on her phone. She was probably blowing up my naive brother’s phone. She claimed she didn’t really like fruit, but when we got out of the car, I found almost all the fruit I bought was gone. The moment we arrived at the house, her eyes started darting around, taking in every detail. After dinner, she was back to her overly enthusiastic self. She grabbed my hand. She started grilling me: where I worked, how much I earned, how much I gave my parents each month, if I was dating anyone. It was like she’d completely stopped treating herself as an outsider after just one meal. Trying to keep the peace, I just said no. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to introduce her to my boyfriend, Ryan. It was more that I wasn’t convinced this girl would ever truly become part of our family. She immediately perked up and told me that I should find a rich boyfriend, one who would offer a huge dowry. Looks didn’t matter, she insisted. She said it didn’t matter if they were ugly or handsome; as long as they had money, everything else would follow. She said we, as children, should demand a lot for our dowry. Our parents raised us, and it wasn’t easy. Plus, there was Liam who needed support. I had never heard such demands come from a girl before. “So, Chloe, are you with Liam because our family is rich? And you’re going to give all your dowry to your parents?” “No way! Avery, don’t accuse me! Liam and I are truly in love. How could it be about that?” she said, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “Oh, the way you were talking, I thought you were interested in our money. My apologies, I’m not very good at small talk. Please bear with me. After all, we’re going to be family soon.” When I said “family,” her expression softened slightly. She then resumed her lecture. “Avery, don’t you give your salary to your family?” “I give my salary to my family every month to help my brother buy a house and get married,” she said, proudly raising an eyebrow. “You should also plan for your parents. Don’t spend all your salary. You should show filial respect to your mom and dad.” I just smiled, pursing my lips, and said nothing. The next day, I got home from work and noticed one of my designer bags was missing from my acrylic display shelf. I asked Liam, and he casually told me that Chloe had taken it when she went home earlier that day. She said she really liked that style and hadn’t been able to find it. “If she wanted it, why didn’t she buy it herself?” That bag was a gift from my best friend, Brooke. Liam, watching a ball game, simply shrugged. “It’s just a bag. You have so many on that shelf, and I barely see you carry that one. What’s the big deal? Just ask Ryan to get you a new one.” I was so furious my blood boiled. You just waltz into my room and take my bag, and *I’m* the one making a fuss? I went to find Mom. My parents were pretty hands-off with us, so they hadn’t said much about Chloe. Seeing how upset I was, Mom just tried to calm me. “Sweetheart, don’t be mad. It’s Liam’s first serious girlfriend, and his first time bringing someone home. Just let it go.” Then she transferred $50,000 to my PayPal. “Buy whatever bag you want. If it’s not enough, just ask for more.” I was about to say, “It’s not about the money, Mom! Taking something without asking is stealing!” But she was already on a FaceTime call with her sisters. Fuming, I could only vent in a SnapChat group with Ryan and Brooke. **Avery:** That idiot brother of mine, I don’t know where he dug up this girlfriend. She’s not even married into the family yet and she’s already stolen the bag you gave me last month, @Brooke! **Avery:** I’m so mad, so mad! **Avery:** [frustrated rage emoji] **Avery:** [power punch gif] **Avery:** [furious scream emoji] **Brooke:** Is that the girl you were telling me about yesterday, the one who gives all her salary to her parents? **Brooke:** I was shocked when I heard that. How is a girl in the 21st century still being manipulated like that by her family? **Brooke:** LOL, she’s a legend! Go future sister-in-law! **Ryan:** In a meeting. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Don’t get yourself worked up. The next time I saw Chloe, she was two months pregnant. Her entire family – a whole parade of aunts, uncles, cousins, and her parents and brother – came to our house to discuss the dowry. They brazenly demanded $1.88 million for the dowry, an $88,000 “name-change fee,” and $180,000 for a full gold jewelry set. The total came to $2.148 million, but they said “four” sounded unlucky, so they rounded it up to a “lucky” $2.18 million. My parents didn’t find the amount exorbitant. They had already prepared a house and a commercial property for both Liam and me. Plus, they’d set aside $2 million in cash for each of us to start our own families. But the Millers’ demand was that all the cash had to be deposited into *their* bank accounts. They claimed the $1.88 million was for the years they spent raising Chloe. The additional $88,000 was for “care fees” for their relatives. I casually piped up from the side, “What about her personal dowry then?” Mr. Miller immediately launched into a lecture: “You’re just a girl! What business do you have speaking when adults are talking? You have no manners!” It clicked for me: the lecturing was hereditary. My mother’s face instantly dropped when she heard him. Her cheerful smile vanished. “Our daughter can say whatever she wants. We come from a family of scholars; we don’t follow such outdated, feudal customs.” Mrs. Miller, however, sensed trouble and worried they might lose the deal. She quickly tried to smooth things over, forcing a laugh. “Oh, there will be a personal dowry! We’ve prepared some homemade honey from our family farm. It’s excellent for beauty and health. You can’t find pure honey like this in the city anymore!” My parents and I exchanged glances, saying nothing. A classic scam, trying to get everything for nothing. The Millers, worried that Chloe’s pregnancy would become more obvious as time went on, and wanting to avoid gossip, arranged for the wedding to happen at the end of the next month. My parents had already prepared a house for each of us, and the prime school district apartment was meant to be Liam and Chloe’s marital home. Chloe demanded that her name be on the deed, and Liam readily agreed. My parents didn’t say much, just hoping the two of them would lead a happy life together. Since the apartment had only recently been renovated, and considering Chloe’s pregnancy, my parents suggested she stay with us at our current home to rest. At this time, Dad was away on a business trip, and Mom was going back to our hometown to care for Grandpa Arthur and Grandma Alice. So, it was just me, Liam, and Chloe at home. And as expected, trouble soon arrived. Living together, Chloe’s antics were bound to start. For example, while I was in a work meeting, my phone kept ringing, one call after another. I thought something terrible had happened. But it was just Chloe. She was hungry and wanted sandwiches from the downtown deli. She demanded I go buy them and bring them over. I told her to order delivery, but she said she didn’t trust delivery drivers, fearing they might add something to her food that would harm the baby. I told her I was in a meeting and couldn’t leave, and she should ask Liam to go. She said Liam didn’t have a car, so it was inconvenient for him to go. She then suggested I should let him drive my car from now on, so she wouldn’t have to call and order me around. Ah, so *that’s* what she was angling for. I said, “If you want him to drive me to and from work every day, and be available at my beck and call, then sure, I’ll give him the car keys. It would be great to have a free chauffeur.” She clicked her tongue. “Why don’t you just buy another car for yourself? Liam has to work every day; he wouldn’t have time to be your driver.” “My money doesn’t grow on trees. I can’t just buy a new car or give away my old one whenever you say.” “How about *you* buy me a new car? Then I’ll let you two have this one.” With that, I hung up. She immediately went crying to Liam, claiming I wouldn’t bring her food, that I wanted to starve her and her baby. She said that if I dared to give her attitude before marriage, who knew how I’d torment her afterward. She didn’t mention a single word about the car.

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I was strolling through the mall when a middle-aged woman suddenly lunged out and slapped me across the face. “You home-wrecker!” she shrieked. “I’ll kill you! I’ll absolutely kill you!” Stunned, I clutched my stinging cheek, staring in disbelief at the expensively dressed woman. 1 “Who are you calling a home-wrecker, lady? You’ve got the wrong person!” I finally managed to retort. But that just made her wilder. She grabbed my hair, pinching me hard, all while screaming that I was a mistress and beckoning passersby to witness the spectacle. Confused onlookers pointed fingers, but no one stepped in to help. I opened my mouth to protest, but then I suddenly remembered articles I’d seen on GoodNovel about how human traffickers often use this exact tactic to abduct women. Oh my God. This was a human trafficker! Falling into the hands of traffickers? That’s a fate worse than death. If that’s my destiny, I’d rather take her down with me right here, right now. At least I’d be eliminating one of them. Despite her expensive clothes, her hands were large and calloused, clearly from years of manual labor. That solidified my suspicion even more. So, instead of arguing, I waited for her to speak, then lunged, grabbing a handful of her hair. I went all out, like a damn wildcat, fighting for my life. “Ah—” The expensively dressed woman never expected me to fight back. In her twisted mind, a young girl like me would be too embarrassed, too panicked. She probably thought I’d just cry and try to explain myself. She never saw *this* coming. I yanked her hair so hard, her grip on me loosened, and her knees buckled. She nearly collapsed. I seized the opportunity, twisting her head back, my elbow locked firmly around her neck. The middle-aged woman shrieked in terror, her face beet red. “What are you doing, you bitch! You seduced my husband, and now you dare to hit me? Someone, quick! Come help me beat this home-wrecker!” “What a waste, a young girl like you, being a homewrecker. Let that woman go!” “Yeah, how could you be like that?” “Look at her, dressed so provocatively, crop top and all, she’s definitely trouble.” The onlookers buzzed with chatter, most just there for the show. But then a few “kind-hearted” people actually stepped forward, ready to intervene on Brenda’s behalf. I wasn’t sure if these people were her accomplices, but I knew if they got any closer, I was done for. Without a second thought, I ripped the metal hair stick from my hair. I was incredibly grateful that day, for the first time ever, that I’d chosen a heavy, decorative metal hair stick to go with my outfit. Without hesitation, I plunged the hair stick into the woman’s thigh. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Stay back! Come any closer and I’ll kill her!” Blood streamed down the woman’s pants, startling everyone. They recoiled in horror, the scene rapidly escalating from a ‘homewrecker brawl’ to what looked like a full-blown assault. “Ah! Ah! Help! Help me! This crazy woman!” Brenda shrieked, terrified. But I just smirked, a chilling, almost manic grin spreading across my face, like someone who’d just escaped the asylum. “You’re screaming for help, but why not call the police? I can help you with that.” I whispered into Brenda’s ear, just loud enough for everyone around to hear. “What’s wrong? Got something you don’t want the cops hearing about?” At that, Brenda’s face flushed crimson. She nervously averted her eyes and stammered, “You’re full of crap, you homewrecker! How dare you be so arrogant? Oh my God, is there no justice? I stood by my husband, eating ramen and working our butts off at flea markets, just to scrape by. We finally made something of ourselves, and then he throws away all our hard work on *you*! A five-thousand-dollar purse? He probably didn’t even blink!” Brenda’s mind worked fast. She knew exactly what would tug at people’s heartstrings. Clearly, she was experienced. Sure enough, her words instantly garnered some sympathy. “A homewrecker being so arrogant? Don’t be afraid, everyone, let’s go up and grab her, strip her clothes—” An elderly woman, who had been watching from the sidelines with her grocery bags, fumed, hands on her hips, spewing insults, clearly trying to manipulate the crowd, to turn public opinion against me. 2 But before she could finish, I grabbed Brenda’s head and slammed it, *hard*, against the clear glass barrier of the mall walkway. The sudden impact drained all the strength from Brenda’s body, and she crumpled to the floor. But I wasn’t done. I tightened my hold on her neck, glaring at the elderly woman in the crowd who was still trying to rally people against me. Every word the old lady uttered, I punctuated by slamming the suspected trafficker’s head against the glass once more. “Ah—Call 911! Quick, call 911—” A gash had opened on Brenda’s forehead, blood trickling down her face, a truly terrifying sight. She weakly begged the crowd for help. Everyone was shocked and slowly realized something was deeply wrong. Phones were already coming out to call 91

I actually wanted them to call. To get the police there faster, I slammed her head down again. One, two, three times, until blood was gushing from her forehead. Only then did I stop. “No! No! Help me!” Brenda was dazed, her vision blurring, feeling like she was about to pass out. “I’m a homewrecker? Strip my clothes off? You think I don’t know your trafficker tricks? First you slander me, then you abduct me. What the hell!” Feeling a surge of satisfaction, I whispered into Brenda’s ear. My voice was just loud enough for the onlookers to hear clearly. *Trafficker?* Hearing me, the crowd exchanged bewildered glances. Just then, mall security arrived, standing ten feet away, telling me to calm down. “Don’t come any closer! I don’t trust you! Who knows if you’re in cahoots with her, trying to abduct me? I’ve read novels where traffickers even impersonate police!” “Ma’am, please calm down. We’re mall security, not traffickers, and we’re not with them. Just calm down for a moment.” “Calm down my ass! Don’t you dare come any closer! If you do, I’ll take her down with me! I’d rather die than be trafficked off to some remote, godforsaken place to be a baby-making machine! You, yes, you! I don’t trust them, help me call 911!” I suddenly pointed at a pretty young woman, staring her down until she called for help. “Oh, okay.” The young woman, startled by my sudden command, nodded after a moment of愣, probably also suspicious. “You, call 911! Nobody leaves here until the police arrive!” I roared, doing my best impression of someone completely unhinged. I thought that would be the end of it, but it seemed the conspirators weren’t done with me. A middle-aged man, standing in the crowd, spoke up gravely, “Look at this girl, so manipulative. Go on, jump! Playing the victim, calling an innocent woman a trafficker, it’s sick! Someone, help her!” The onlookers listened to Mr. Davies, then looked at me, confusion flickering across their faces. I just bared my teeth in a smile, then, without warning, I grabbed Brenda’s head and slammed it against the glass once more. “Ah! Ah! No! Help!” I planted my foot firmly on Brenda’s instep, screaming at Mr. Davies: “Keep talking! Let’s see whose accomplice dies first, yours or mine!” “You… you’re talking nonsense! Who’s her accomplice?” Mr. Davies hadn’t expected to be targeted so directly. His eyes darted nervously, and he quickly started to backtrack. I was furious. Trying to morally blackmail me, huh? I could play that game too. So I screamed at him, my voice cracking, “I’m willing to jump to prove I’m not a homewrecker! Are *you* willing to jump? Come on, jump to prove you’re not her accomplice!” 3 Mr. Davies was taken aback, waving his hands frantically. “You, you’re crazy! Who said anything about jumping?” “You’re the one spouting off, calling me a homewrecker and accusing me of bullying her? You sound like you saw it all yourself, so confident! Come on, jump and prove it! Let’s go together! Don’t be scared!” I chuckled, my smile growing even more unsettling, unnervingly abnormal. “Yeah, the young lady is willing to jump, why don’t you?” A young guy filming with his phone chimed in, egging him on. Mr. Davies, clearly not expecting me to go to such extremes, backed away quickly, muttering curses under his breath, then turned and ran. Seeing him leave, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, the police and firefighters arrived together. At my insistent demand, the firefighter accompanied me to the police station. Before leaving, I addressed all the onlookers: “When you upload those videos, please blur my face. Or at least put a beauty filter on me!” That evening, the police issued a statement, confirming that Brenda, the middle-aged woman, was indeed a human trafficker. I became a trending topic online. Everyone started calling me the ‘Chaos Queen’ or ‘Mad Glamour Girl,’ and netizens nicknamed me ‘Queen C.’ I didn’t really care about any of it. I never imagined that this unexpected incident would be a turning point in my life. On Monday, I went to the office, and my boss, Mr. Vance, specifically called me in. I thought my excellent work performance had finally caught his eye and I was due for a promotion. Instead, he presented two reports. One was a diagnosis for my bipolar disorder. The other, a diagnosis for my violent tendencies. That’s right, I’ve always had bipolar disorder. Normally, I seem just like anyone else, but if I’m bullied or provoked, I become extremely manic. Every time I have an episode, I have to hit someone. Unless I lash out, it feels like the incident isn’t truly over for me. I’d been on medication to control it for years, and I hadn’t had an episode since joining the company. Although, I knew keeping it a secret was wrong. “Um, Mr. Vance, I, I didn’t mean to hide it—” “You don’t need to explain. I have a better job offer for you. Five million dollars. Interested?” Five million dollars! My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I nodded without a second thought. It turned out Mr. Vance had a sister, Eleanor, who was incredibly soft-spoken. In college, she fell in love with a guy. Her family disapproved, so she secretly eloped with him. Eloping itself wasn’t the issue. If she’d been happy, the family would have eventually accepted it. But the man turned out to have severe violent tendencies. After they got married, he constantly beat her. Because she’d eloped, Eleanor was too ashamed to ask her family for help. Eventually, trapped and desperate, she jumped from a building to her death. Since it was ruled a suicide, the police couldn’t legally charge the scumbag. Mr. Vance couldn’t swallow that. Since the law couldn’t touch him for what he did to Ellie—they couldn’t even charge him, can you believe it?—he was going to use other means. “So, the five million is for me to—” “I want you to get close to Damian Thorne, become his girlfriend. Make his life hell, just like he did to my sister. After all, he got away with it legally, didn’t he?” Oh. I understood. I agreed to Mr. Vance’s request. After all, I’m a kind person, and I can’t stand scumbags. So, under Mr. Vance’s arrangements, I became the daughter of a newly rich family, successfully seducing Mr. Vance’s ex-brother-in-law, Damian Thorne. Damian, true to form, was the ultimate scumbag. He sweet-talked me into meeting his parents, calling it “my big chance to make a good impression.” Maybe I played the ‘desperate puppy’ a little too well, making him think he had me completely wrapped around his finger. “Babe, your big chance has arrived.” “Oh? What chance?” I raised an eyebrow, looking at Damian with feigned disinterest. The idiot actually thought I was hopelessly in love with him. He grinned, “It’s my mom’s birthday. Buy her a gold necklace, and there’s your chance to shine. Oh, and my sister will be there, so get her a gift too, a Gucci bag. And my little nephew, Leo, he loves Lego, so pick one up for him. My dad? He just likes cigarettes and liquor. You can get him some of that. Doesn’t have to be too fancy, just some good whiskey and three or four cartons of premium cigarettes. He’ll be thrilled.” Damian rattled off the list, completely dictating my purchases. 4 As soon as I heard it, I realized this wasn’t just a birthday celebration for his mom; it was like a tribute offering to their entire family. If it weren’t for the mission, I would have cussed him out, called him a total jinx, maybe even spit on him. “Of course,” I replied with a smile. “Don’t worry, I guarantee your parents will be completely satisfied.” Mr. Vance’s budget was generous, but the thought of spending so much on this family infuriated me. Scumbags weren’t worth my money. So, I conspired with my best friend, Chloe, to pull a switcheroo. The designer bag would be a knockoff, the toy bought from Wish. As for the whiskey and cigarettes, I’d buy the real stuff, but then empty the bottles and cartons at home, replacing them with cheap imitations. Mission accomplished, I arrived at their house with a pile of fakes. Damian’s family seemed genuinely convinced that Damian had me completely under his thumb. Their attitude towards me was cold, and they mocked me throughout dinner. “Cassandra, is it? What does your father think about you finding a boyfriend from Northwood?” Mrs. Thorne asked, her voice dripping with passive aggression. Northwood? Does that pay the bills? I rolled my eyes internally, about to say something, when Mrs. Thorne cut me off. “He must be thrilled. Someone from the countryside like you, suddenly rich, but deep down, you just don’t have the same pedigree as us established families.” Mrs. Thorne said, oozing superiority. Damn it, they live in some rundown block, practically a slum, and she thinks *she’s* got pedigree? I was so annoyed I almost laughed, but to ensure the mission went smoothly, I kept my plastered-on smile. “You’re absolutely right! My dad is ecstatic! He’s always dreamed of me marrying a man from Northwood.” “I’m his only daughter, so all our family assets will eventually be mine. And what’s mine, of course, is Damian’s.” “You’re right about everything, Auntie.” “The dinner bill? Auntie, how could I let you pay? It’s on me.” I played the dutiful, humble girlfriend, making sure Damian’s family felt completely served and satisfied. Mrs. Thorne, in particular, was quite pleased with me. “Cassandra, dear, we’re a very proper family. Before you marry into our family, you’ll need to sign a prenuptial agreement. One clause is that we’ll get the legal papers done first, then we’ll consider a wedding. And as for a dowry or any of those old customs? Please, it’s the 21st century, we’re beyond that.” *Heh.* I sneered internally, but nodded in agreement. And so, I moved into Damian’s house, beginning our pre-marital cohabitation. On the second day of living with Damian, I started cozying up to the neighbors. When they learned I was Damian’s girlfriend, they all subtly, or not so subtly, urged me to break up with him. Especially Mrs. Peterson from across the hall, who clutched my hand and said bluntly, “Honey, this family isn’t good people. You need to run, take an old woman’s advice.” I just smiled and assured her I’d be fine. Adding silently to myself, *Don’t worry, Grandma. I’m no saint either.* After moving in, Damian tried to get intimate with me, but I slipped him a sleeping pill every night, so he never got the chance. Damian was easy to handle; his family, however, was a whole other level of trouble. They were a family of oddballs, treating me like a maid. Especially his sister, Paige, who brought her boyfriend, Marcus, to stay and even demanded I wash his underwear. *Hmph!* I smirked at the overflowing laundry basket, thinking of the packet of itching powder in my bag. That night, Marcus, fresh in his newly laundered underwear, jumped up and started tearing around the house, yelling for half the night. Apparently, he swelled up so badly, and even Paige, who’d been intimate with him, ended up in the emergency room. The hospital couldn’t find anything wrong. After a day on an IV drip, they slunk home, embarrassed. The incident should have been over, but thanks to my deliberate ‘leaks,’ the whole complex knew Paige and her boyfriend ended up in the emergency room after… well, after their private time. Paige was too mortified to leave the house. “Bro, it has to be that bitch! She’s the one who spread it around! I can’t even show my face!” Damian immediately glared at me. The scumbag had already condemned me. I rolled my eyes internally but maintained an innocent expression, saying, “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!” Mrs. Thorne, meanwhile, fanned the flames. “It has to be her! We don’t gossip! Son, women like her don’t listen unless you hit them!” Fueled by Mrs. Thorne’s incessant prodding, Damian finally snapped and lashed out at me. “Bitch, watch your damn mouth!” Damn it, I wanted to hit him back right then and there, but I forced myself to endure it. Damian was stronger than me, and with his entire family living under one roof, I was at a disadvantage. So, I swallowed my anger, knowing I’d get my revenge eventually. Of course, while I waited for my chance, I made sure to parade my bruises around the complex, solidifying the neighbors’ impression of Damian’s domestic abuse. Sure enough, the neighbors started looking at Damian’s family with disdain. Even the building security guards would mutter under their breath, ‘What a jinx,’ whenever Damian’s car pulled up. This infuriated Damian, and the first thing he did when he got home was try to hit me. “Bitch, have you been running your mouth again?” Damian pulled out his belt, ready to strike. I feigned a terrified scream. Damian chased me, and as I ran, I started knocking over furniture. The TV, no problem. The air conditioner, the dining table, everything I could see, I shoved over. Sometimes I wasn’t fast enough, and Damian’s belt lashed me a few times. Damn it, that made me even angrier, so I maneuvered myself behind Mrs. Thorne. Using Mrs. Thorne as a human shield – I couldn’t overpower Damian, but his mother? Absolutely. Mrs. Thorne got hit by Damian’s belt once and let out a bloodcurdling scream, like a banshee. Paige, who was unemployed, rushed out when she heard her mother’s cries. Seeing me using her mother as a human shield, she lunged at me in a rage. “Ah! Help! He’s killing me! Mrs. Peterson! Mrs. Huang! Mrs. Lee! Ms. Wu! Help me! Someone call the police!” I stuck out my leg, tripping Mrs. Thorne, then seized the chance to yank Paige Thorne by her hair, pulling her in front of me to shield myself from Damian’s belt. No choice but to use Paige. She was always on some crazy diet, barely ate anything, and was way lighter than her mom. A much easier human shield. “Bitch, let go of my sister!” Damian fumed, trying to grab me. I wouldn’t let him near me, so I decisively used the scrawny Paige as a target. “Bitch! Bitch! Let go! Bro, help me!” “Ow, ow, ow!” The living room wasn’t large, and as we played hide-and-seek, it was inevitable to step on the fallen Mrs. Thorne. I even managed to stomp on the old woman’s hand, hearing a satisfying *crunch*. 5 The scene was pure chaos. Finally, when Mr. Thorne returned, the police arrived, just in time. If the police hadn’t shown up by the time Mr. Thorne got home, I’d probably be dead. Fortunately, the neighbors came through.

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When I saw Dominic Thorne again, he was the high-flying CEO of a publicly listed company. And I was just a bottle girl in a club. He stared at me, his eyes cold and disdainful, a smirk even in the curve of his brows. Later, when he was drunk, he grabbed my chin, completely losing his composure. “Hmph, Miss Blackwood, the notorious Miss Blackwood, really will do anything for money, won’t she?” Inside the booming Neon Club, Mr. Reynolds, the manager, excitedly told us, “VIP Penthouse Suite 101, all big spenders in there. You girls put in some effort, push a lot of drinks.” “Especially you, Aria. If you do well tonight, you might just cover your mom’s medical bills for a month.” “That’s right, Aria, go for it!” “You got this, Aria!” I gave them a grateful smile. I never thought that amidst the cold, flashy lights of this place, there would still be such warm-hearted people. My sisters and I, dressed in sexy outfits, each holding a bottle of fine wine ranging from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars, lined up and appeared in VIP Penthouse Suite 101. The room was dim, the music pumping. We wore smiles that held little truth. I scanned the dozen or so men in the room. They were all in suits, with playful, arrogant smiles on their faces. They openly scrutinized us, as if we were merchandise on a shelf, waiting to be bought. I’d long grown accustomed to such gazes. Suddenly, as my gaze swept over one particular man, the half-million-dollar bottle of imported liquor in my hand almost slipped to the floor. Dominic Thorne? The moment our eyes met, his showed shock. It was quickly replaced by disgust. The group of men with him said deferentially, “Mr. Thorne, you first, pick one.” Dominic walked up to me, gave a dismissive smirk, then pulled Chloe, a sister next to me. After that, the other men came one by one to choose their hostesses. A few who initially wanted to pick me, seeing the price of the wine in my hand, sheepishly picked other girls. As I was about to leave, a pot-bellied man called out to me with an unwelcome leer. “Tsk, the price of that bottle is enough to buy you entirely.” I forced out a smile, using every ounce of strength I had. “Sir, fine wine for a hero. This bottle may be expensive, but for you, it’s worth it.” My flattery made the greasy man beam with delight. He wrapped an arm around my neck. “Oh, your sweet talk is something else. How about a little kiss, huh?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but Dominic’s arm around Chloe seemed to tremble slightly. I cleverly dodged him. “Sir, you haven’t even had a drink yet, and you’re already drunk.” He didn’t seem annoyed, pulling me down to sit beside him. “I get it, I get it. Drinks first, right? You women here, once you’re drunk enough, it’s not just your lips, is it? You’ll let a guy kiss you anywhere. Hahaha…” Dominic, looking impatient, told Chloe, “Open the bottle.” Only then did the greasy man stop pestering me and started raising his glass with the others.

In the dim lighting, human nature was, to a certain extent, unleashed. They flattered, exchanged pleasantries, boasted, and recounted their heroic deeds to the bottle girls beside them. Not far away, Dominic Thorne stood out like an anomaly. He accepted every single toast, never refusing a drink, yet barely uttered a word. After three rounds of drinks, the greasy man suddenly pulled me onto his lap. His thick, leering lips lunged straight for me. I frantically pushed him away and stood up. “Mr. Davies, you’ve had too much to drink…” *Slap!* The greasy man, face flushed crimson, slapped me across the face. “You little slut! I’m being nice, and you’re just throwing it back in my face? This bottle of wine cost a fortune, you don’t seriously think I spent hundreds of thousands just to *drink* the damn thing, do you?” Mr. Reynolds, hearing the commotion in the room, scurried in. He immediately pulled me behind him, facing the greasy man and apologizing profusely. “Mr. Davies, please calm down, calm down. Aria’s young and foolish, not worth your anger. Please, just let it go.” But the greasy man was relentless. He shoved Mr. Reynolds aside. “Foolish? No problem, I’ll teach her a lesson and she’ll learn to be smart.” With that, his greasy hands reached out to tear at my clothes. *Crash!* “Enough, Arthur. You’re really something.” Dominic Thorne had smashed a bottle of wine to pieces. The noisy room fell into a sudden, eerie silence. Three-tenths of the greasy man’s drunkenness instantly sobered up. “Mr… Mr. Thorne, come on, none of these girls are innocent, are they? Besides, I just ordered a half-million-dollar bottle from her, she’ll at least get…” Dominic’s face was so dark it looked like it was about to drip ink. He tossed a black card at the greasy man. “This round’s on me.” The greasy man frantically picked up the card, trying to hand it back to Dominic. But Dominic struck it away with a punch. He walked over, expressionless, and pulled me out. Mr. Reynolds called my name in concern from behind. I shook my head at him, telling him not to worry. Dominic Thorne, a rising titan in Harbor City’s business world. Ruthless and decisive, a man who played by no one’s rules but his own. Neither Mr. Reynolds nor I could afford to offend him.

Outside the club, Dominic pinned me against the wall. His bloodshot eyes seemed to hold a volcano on the verge of eruption. He squeezed my chin, saying disdainfully, “Hmph, Miss Blackwood, the notorious Miss Blackwood, really will do anything for money, won’t she?” “How about it? Why don’t you become my mistress?” I stared at him in shock. I never imagined such hurtful words could come from his mouth. He scoffed. “What? You’re unwilling? Or maybe you just want to name your price?” My hand trembled as I raised it, slapping him across the face. He stuck out his tongue, a cold smile playing on his lips as he licked a bead of blood from the corner of his mouth. He gripped my wrist, his eyes blazing. “Aria Blackwood, you don’t honestly think you’re still the untouchable Miss Blackwood, do you? A woman like you, what’s with the act of being a virtuous lady?” He violently threw my hand away, leaving me with a chilling sentence: “I’ll be waiting for you to beg me.” Then he strode away. Watching his retreating back, my eyes stung. All those sweet, warm moments felt as vivid as yesterday. But I had forgotten that five years were enough to crush everything into dust.

Five years ago, Blackwood Inc. was framed, and its finances plunged into a major crisis. My father, unable to bear the burden, jumped to his death. My mother, unable to cope with the shock, developed severe depression, requiring expensive treatment every month. At that time, Dominic Thorne had just been accepted to a prestigious business school in the U.S. I didn’t want to be a burden to him, so I forced myself to break up with him. Back then, Dominic loved me to the core. He was willing to give up everything for me. But I was no different. When he pressed for a reason, I used differences in social status and family background as an excuse. “Love without money is like a pile of loose sand,” I’d sneer, quoting some trashy romance flick, “doesn’t even need a strong wind, just a couple of steps and it’s gone.” “Dominic Thorne, what makes you so confident you can give me happiness?” He cried then, promising me, “Aria, please believe me, I’ll make sure you live a happy life with my own two hands. Just wait for me, okay?” I believed him, of course I did. He was destined to shine, a star just waiting for its moment. Provided, of course, that I wasn’t dragging him down. I pointed to the clothes on my body. “This one, thirty-five thousand; this one, fifty thousand; even my hair tie costs five thousand. And you? Your whole outfit probably doesn’t add up to two hundred, does it?” “Dominic Thorne, what makes you think I should trust you? We’re not the same kind of people. Some people spend their whole lives trying to reach Rome. I was born there.” Dominic looked at me in disbelief, as if he’d never known me. “Then what was our past? What were all those vows we made?” Seeing him in such a hysterical state, my heart felt as if it were being gnawed by a thousand ants. I forced back the pain and sneered, “It was just for kicks, why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Those eyes, once bright as stars, were now filled only with despair and hatred. It chilled me to the bone. I wanted to tell him everything, then throw myself into his arms and cry out all the grievances I’d bottled up. But I could only watch helplessly as his desolate figure vanished from my sight. After he went abroad, the debt collectors hounded me everywhere. My mother’s exorbitant medical bills crushed me daily, making it impossible to breathe. In less than a month, I lost twenty pounds. In the dead of night, I would think of Dominic Thorne until I felt like I was going insane. Many times, I stood on the rooftop, listening to the whistling wind around me. I wanted to be a free bird, to just leap. But each time, my mom in her hospital room, Dominic with his hair flying in my mind’s eye, they were like threads behind me, pulling me back.

The next evening, when I went to work, Mr. Reynolds called me into his office. He handed me a stack of cash. “Aria, this is your salary for the month. After this… you don’t have to come in anymore.” “W-why?” Years ago, desperate for money, I had nowhere else to turn but to apply for a bottle girl position at The Neon. Mr. Reynolds, knowing my situation, had always looked out for me. And the other girls, they were truly genuine with me. For years, I had lost all my friends. The Neon had become like my home. The girls here, they were my family and friends. Mr. Reynolds sighed. “Aria, I’m sorry. That person is someone we can’t afford to offend. I also have a wife and children to support, I hope you can understand.” I suddenly remembered what Dominic had said last night: “I’ll be waiting for you to beg me.” It was his doing. Mr. Reynolds indeed couldn’t afford to offend him. Not just Mr. Reynolds, but the entire Neon Club couldn’t. I nodded, forcing back the tears in my eyes. “It’s okay. Thank you for taking care of me all these years, Mr. Reynolds. I’ll always remember your kindness.” He waved his hand. “Go find another job quickly. Your mom’s condition can’t be delayed. I’ve paid you an extra half-month’s salary. This is the last thing I can do for you.” I bowed gratefully to Mr. Reynolds, then left with a heavy heart. After leaving The Neon, I first rushed to the hospital to pay my mom’s medical fees for the month. Then I went home and started preparing my resume. In my current situation, I couldn’t afford to waste a single day. Half a month later, I found myself squatting by the roadside, feeling helpless, staring at the resume in my hand. No matter what job I applied for, things would start off well. But each time it came to the point of discussing employment, the HR manager would tell me I wasn’t quite suitable. One HR manager cryptically told me, “Miss Blackwood, you should really think about whether you’ve offended someone. Otherwise, it will be very difficult for you to find work here in Harbor City.” I gave a bitter smile. Besides Dominic Thorne, who else could it be? As I struggled to figure out how to break this deadlock, my mom’s condition worsened, and she was admitted to the ICU. Watching the money drain away like water, I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Was it just about dropping my pride and begging him? When fate’s hand gripped your throat, what was pride truly worth? I dialed the number etched in my heart. *Beep… beep… beep…* The phone’s ring seemed to have a magic of its own; with each ring, a shred of my soul was pulled away. When the ringing stopped, I collapsed onto the sofa. Relieved, yet also lost. Suddenly, my phone rang. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, I felt as if I were dreaming. As if answering it would take me back five years, to a time before everything had happened. After taking a deep breath, I answered the call. Dominic Thorne coldly stated an address. “You have twenty minutes. Get over here.” I threw on a random jacket, rushed downstairs, and hailed a cab. When I arrived at Dominic’s house, he was meticulously working on his laptop on the sofa. Seeing me, he said dismissively, “When you’re begging someone, shouldn’t you have the attitude of someone who’s begging?” I walked up to him and struggled to speak. “Mr. Thorne, please, overlook my foolishness. Don’t stoop to my level. Just let me have a way to live.” He put down his laptop and gave me a playful smirk. “Alright, be my mistress, and I’ll cover your mom’s medical bills for a month.” My face turned ashen as I pleaded with him. “Dominic, please don’t do this to me, okay?” His expression changed drastically. “Shut up. Who gave you permission to call me that? I’m not negotiating with you. If you don’t agree, get out now. But I hear your mom’s condition isn’t looking too good.” He knew me all too well. I desperately wanted to walk away, but the thought of my mom, eyes closed in her hospital bed, made my legs feel as heavy as lead. I had already lost too much in this life. I couldn’t lose my mom too. “Okay, I agree.” Dominic Thorne looked at me in surprise, then said, “Aria Blackwood, you truly are pathetic.”

Dominic Thorne handed me a card. “This card has no limit, spend what you want. I expect you to act like a proper mistress; don’t make me feel like my money’s wasted.” I took the card and rushed to the hospital to pay my mom’s overdue medical bills. That evening, Dominic called me, telling me to pick him up from a hotel. The men who saw me there teased him, “Mr. Thorne, is this your girlfriend? She’s really beautiful.” Dominic scoffed. “Her? She’s not worthy.” The men looked at me, smirking knowingly, an expression that said *I understand*. My face burned. It felt as if I had been stripped naked and thrown onto the street. I took the seven-tenths-drunk Dominic, helped him into the car, and drove him to the residence he had arranged for me that afternoon. The moment we entered, he violently pinned me against the wall. A warm breath caressed my face. Instinctively, I pushed him away. Dominic, enraged, pressed me harder against the wall. “Don’t forget, you’re my mistress now. You just spent eighty thousand of my money this afternoon, didn’t you? Have you forgotten what you’re supposed to do?” He roughly pulled me, throwing me onto the bedroom bed. He savagely tore at my clothes. Terrified, I tried to push him away. But that only fueled his anger further. Then, pain radiated from every pore. Seeing my tears stream down my face, Dominic’s expression showed a fleeting moment of panic. After it was over, he carried me to the bathroom. He placed me into the already-drawn bathwater. He gently scrubbed my body, covered in red marks. Back in the bedroom, Dominic stared blankly at the crimson stain on the sheets. Then, he efficiently changed the bedding. “Get some sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow. You’ll come with me tomorrow; I need a secretary.” I nodded. Someone like me didn’t deserve a life of just waiting to die. When Dominic eventually tired of me, at least I would still have the ability to survive. But I never imagined this was the abyss Dominic had prepared for me.

I became Dominic Thorne’s personal secretary. My daily tasks were limited to serving tea and water, and preparing his three meals. And, satisfying him whenever he wished. Hundreds of people in the company, each looked at me with disdain. In the pantry, in the restrooms, colleagues constantly whispered that the new Miss Blackwood was a vixen. A shameless slut. Why did no one treat me as Dominic Thorne’s girlfriend? Because, at this very moment, his fiancée, Seraphina Vance, was sitting across from me. Her exquisite face was slightly distorted with rage. “Aria Blackwood, do you have no shame? You abandoned Dominic for money back then. Now you’re shamelessly throwing yourself at him for money again. How can there be a woman as despicable and low as you?” I clasped my hands tightly, trying my best to ignore her verbal abuse. Since I was doing something shameful, I deserved to endure everything that came with it. Seraphina grew even angrier seeing my silence. She splashed a cup of coffee onto my face. The scalding coffee ran from my face down to my neck and inside my clothes. I bore the burning pain without a sound. As if by doing so, the pain in my heart would lessen. Seraphina’s enraged face suddenly turned to one of hurt. Following her gaze, I saw Dominic Thorne walking towards us, looking anxious. He glanced at me, then handed me a tissue with a look of disgust. Then he gently wrapped an arm around Seraphina’s slender waist, his expression doting. “Seraphina, did she upset you?” Seraphina’s eyes were red, and she pouted, looking up at him. It was as if she, not I, was the one who had been doused in coffee. She leaned into Dominic’s arms, saying sweetly, “Dominic, why is this woman here? And what’s your relationship with her? You don’t still like her, do you?” I looked up at Dominic, a flicker of hope rising in my heart. He scoffed, gently flicking Seraphina’s nose with his finger. “Silly girl, what nonsense are you talking about? What is she to me? Even if every woman in the world died, I wouldn’t spare her a glance.” “Right now, she’s just a servant by my side, here to atone for her sins.” Pain radiated from all directions. My chest felt as if it were crushed by ten thousand pounds of stone. My face suddenly felt icy cold. Dominic snorted. “Who are you crying for with that pathetic look? You’re bad luck. Get out of my sight.” Like someone granted a reprieve, I fled in disarray. Dominic’s driver followed me in the car and said, “Miss Blackwood, Mr. Thorne asked me to take you to the hospital.” Hah! What was this? A slap, then a sweet treat? I stubbornly continued walking. The driver followed behind. “Miss Blackwood, please get in. We’re all just trying to make a living, don’t make it harder for me.” I stopped. Yes, we were all just people forced by circumstances. Why make things difficult for each other? At the hospital, the doctor prescribed me ointment. I also took the opportunity to visit my mom in the special care ward. I had to admit, money truly was a good thing. Not only was Mom out of the ICU, but she even had moments of lucidity. However, her memory was always a bit jumbled. Sometimes she would revert to before our family went bankrupt, holding my hand and asking, “How are things with Dominic, honey? He’s such a good boy, don’t be too hard on him, okay?” Other times, she’d go back to after Dad’s death, clutching me and sobbing, “Aria, your father and I are so sorry. Your dad is gone, what’s the point of me still being alive…” Dr. Miller called me into his office and said, “Miss Blackwood, your mother’s condition is improving now. You should visit her more often; she keeps mentioning your name when she’s lucid.” “In another year or so, she might even be able to continue her treatment from home.” I bowed gratefully to the doctor. I had been waiting five years for this day.

That evening, Dominic Thorne, utterly drunk, was brought to my place by his driver. The moment he entered, he pulled me into his arms, carefully cradling my face. “Aria Blackwood, is this really you? Is this really you?” His fingertips brushed over the fading red marks on my face, asking, “Does it hurt? Does it still hurt?” I shook my head. “But I hurt so much. Aria Blackwood, it hurts so much right here.” He pointed to his chest, and his usually cold eyes were actually misted with tears. Drunk Dominic was like the Dominic from before we broke up. His soft hair brushed against my cheek, exposing a side of him I rarely saw. One moment he was hurt, the next angry, then helpless, then ruthless. At that moment, our hearts felt closer than ever. In the middle of the night, he sobered up enough. He roughly pulled me to him, tormenting me as if in revenge. He hovered over me, relentlessly mocking me. “Aria Blackwood, look how pathetic you are now? The former Miss Blackwood, you can’t live without money, can you?” When the storm passed, he got up and went to the bathroom. As he left, he didn’t forget to say to me, “Aria Blackwood, you’re so dirty now.” I took a deep breath, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. Wasn’t the current Aria Blackwood indeed someone who couldn’t live without money? When Dominic left in the morning, he told me, “Don’t come to the office today. Come back when the marks on your face are gone.” I thought he was concerned about me. But then I heard him say, “The way you look now, it disgusts me.” I looked at myself in the mirror and felt disgusted too. For money, I was sleeping with a man who despised me. Even though I knew he was doing it to humiliate me, I still had to force a smile. During this time, I had countless thoughts. If I had told Dominic the truth back then, what would we be like now? Then I shook my head again. Dominic wasn’t obligated to me. Why should he sink into the mud with me? Just because he loved me?

A few days later, Seraphina Vance found me. She haughtily told me, “Aria Blackwood, Dominic and I are getting married. From today on, you’ll be with me. Help us prepare for all the wedding arrangements.” I looked at Dominic. The moment our eyes met, he showed a hint of impatience. “Why are you looking at me? Seraphina is Thorne Inc.’s future lady boss, just do what she says.” My heart ached as I nodded. He was bound to get married and have children eventually. Why was I still so sad? Seraphina was very invested in her wedding to Dominic. From major details like the hotel and emcee, down to minor ones like nail designs. She made me accompany her, comparing one option after another. Everything was already perfectly exquisite, yet she always felt something was missing. Finally came the day Seraphina was to try on her wedding gown. Early in the morning, we arrived at Harbor City’s largest bridal shop. When I got there, Seraphina was already wearing a wedding gown with a long train, and not far away, Dominic was distractedly fiddling with his phone. Seeing me, Dominic’s face immediately darkened. Seraphina, on the other hand, looked triumphant. She asked me, “Aria Blackwood, what do you think?” “It’s great, very beautiful.” She rolled her eyes at me and told the sales assistant, “This one isn’t fancy enough. Get me that one.” She pointed to a mermaid-style gown adorned with tiny scattered diamonds. Dominic and I looked at that dress simultaneously, and both froze. Five years ago, I had pulled Dominic past a bridal shop. I pointed to a similar mermaid gown and said, “Dominic Thorne, when we get married, I’m going to wear that dress. I want to show off my bombshell figure, make sure everyone knows you, Dominic Thorne, hit the jackpot marrying a gorgeous woman like me!” Dominic put his arm around me, his face full of adoration. “Whose ‘gorgeous woman’ are you? No manners.” He glanced at the price of the dress and said, “Looks like I’ll have to work hard to earn money for a wedding dress, or I won’t even be able to marry my wife.” Now, his assets were enough to buy the entire bridal shop. Unfortunately, everything had changed. Dominic stopped Seraphina. “Don’t wear that one, it’s ugly. Change to that one.” He pointed to an off-the-shoulder, floor-length gown not far away. The sales assistant quickly praised it. “Mr. Thorne has excellent taste! This gown is a handmade designer piece. Only one in the world, truly unique.” Seraphina’s heart swelled with delight. She immediately had the sales assistant take her to the fitting room. I followed her. When we came out, the mermaid gown was gone. It must have been bought by someone else. I hadn’t expected it to disappear so quickly, in just a moment. Well, who would wait around forever? Still, a part of my heart felt a little lost. After leaving the bridal shop, they went to dinner. Seraphina no longer wanted me to follow them. I went to the hospital to see my mom. Her lucid periods were becoming more frequent, and she had even accepted the reality of Dad’s passing. She held my hand, her face full of tenderness. “Aria, you’ve suffered so much all these years. It’s all because your mom was a burden.” I leaned gently into her arms, acting like my old self. “Mom, don’t talk about burdens. Just get well soon, okay? I miss your homemade chicken pot pie. You wouldn’t believe how many I’ve tried these past few years, none of them were authentic.” A long-lost smile appeared on my mom’s face. “You, you’re still a little greedy cat. I’ll make it for you once I’m out of the hospital.”

Coming home from the hospital, I saw the lights on in my house. Dominic Thorne sat on the sofa, intently working on files. Seeing me enter, he closed his laptop. He grabbed a bag beside him and tossed it to me. “Put this on.” I caught the bag. Inside was the mermaid wedding gown I had seen at the bridal shop earlier today. I looked up at Dominic, and his eyes were filled with expectation. “Aria Blackwood, go put it on. Please, be a good girl.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “Dominic, please don’t make me wear it, okay? I beg you!” At least, not while we were in this kind of relationship. Dominic roughly pulled me towards him, mercilessly tearing at my clothes. “Aria Blackwood, have you forgotten what our relationship is now? Have I been too lenient with you? Now, I order you, put it on.” I clutched my chest, crying as I begged Dominic, “Please, Dominic Thorne, find another way to punish me. I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t.” Dominic’s eyes were bloodshot. “Another way? What else do you have besides this body now? Don’t worry, Aria Blackwood, when I’m tired of you, I’ll naturally give you a sum of money and throw you away like a used rag.” “Do you… do you hate me that much?” Dominic froze at my words. For the first time, his eyes showed confusion and panic. “Aria Blackwood, if you could do it all over again, would you still break up with me?” I never expected him to ask that question. I answered without hesitation, “If it were the same situation, yes, I would.” Dominic snatched the wedding dress from my hands, took out a pair of scissors, and shredded it. Then, still not satisfied, he stomped on it several times. “Aria Blackwood, you’re truly pathetic. It serves your family right for going bankrupt, serves your dad right for dying, serves your mom right for getting sick. A woman like you shouldn’t even exist.” He stormed out, slamming the door. I looked at the scattered white shreds and fallen diamonds on the floor. It was like the heart in my chest. Slammed hard onto the ground. In the morning, I was woken on the floor, covered in shreds of wedding dress, by a sharp ringing. “Miss Blackwood, please come quickly, your mother is dying.” Ignoring the aches all over my body, I quickly sat up and asked, “What did you say? Dr. Miller, are you kidding me?” The other end of the line fell silent for a moment.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298656”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

After successfully winning his heart, I chose to stay for Liam. But three years into our marriage, he changed. Later, when it was time for me to leave this world, I chose to fall into the sea, an apparent accident. The prenatal scan report left on the shore was my three-year anniversary gift to him. But he knelt on the ground, his eyes blazing with unshed tears, his voice raw as he begged me to return. I was pregnant. That afternoon, on my way home from the hospital, I immediately called Liam Vance. For three years of marriage, he’d always wanted a child, and I could almost picture the look on his face when he heard the news. But I decided to keep him guessing. I told him: “Remember to come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you.” At that moment, I was completely absorbed in my joy. So, when I stumbled upon photos of another girl in Liam’s cloud drive, I instantly lost the ability to think. It had started two years ago. At first, it was just two people cropped from larger group photos, then pictures of them hiking, watching sunsets, diving… The most recent one, from just yesterday, showed her profile, wearing a bunny-ear headband, focused on a claw machine. The claw machine’s glass reflected Liam’s face, a look of doting affection and deep longing etched there. As I looked at those photos, tears unknowingly streamed down my hands. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being slowly, excruciatingly crushed by a massive stone wheel. I was bleeding internally, raw with an unbearable pain. For three years, Liam had been utterly devoted to me, agreeing to my every whim. Everyone knew that three years ago, he’d shielded me from a fatal injury in a fire, and even now, there was a jagged, prominent scar on his back. After I’d finally captured his heart, my body had been in a coma for four days. He, still weak from his own injuries, had stayed by my bedside, awake day and night for just as long. No one had ever cared for me that deeply before. So, after my spirit had hovered for four days, I petitioned the System to let me remain in this world. The price for staying? My body would age twice as fast. Back then, I thought, if Liam was willing to give up his life for me, what was a little aging? Three years later, my appearance had aged by six years. I’d truly believed Liam wouldn’t disappoint me. Liam Vance, the CEO known to outsiders for his decisive nature and quiet demeanor, was always fervently passionate and incredibly attentive when he was with me. But I could never have imagined him betraying me. If his “beloved” was another girl, what did all his talk of loving me even mean?

That evening, while Liam was showering, I took his phone. The lock screen password was still my birthday; he hadn’t changed it in three years. It wasn’t that he was exceptionally transparent, but that I trusted him completely. After a few minutes of searching, I finally found her. There was nothing particularly special about it. She wasn’t pinned to the top, nor did she have a special nickname. But I’d seen her photos, so her profile picture instantly caught my eye in the contact list. The chat history was meticulously deleted. I clicked into her Ins profile. The first post was a share of a women’s watch. The caption read: “A gift from someone special, I love this birthday present so much, and the person who gave it to me!!” There wasn’t much interaction between them. Liam had simply liked every one of her posts. Including that one, of course. A new message suddenly popped up in the chat window. Seraphina: [Haha, you really agreed? Then it’s settled, we’ll meet next Thursday!] My heart suddenly felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, plunging me into a suffocating pain. He must have known that next Thursday was our three-year anniversary. Not our wedding anniversary, but our confession anniversary. That day, he’d shielded me from a suddenly collapsing wooden beam in that fire, yet he’d still trembled as he said: “I might die, but I still want to tell you, I like you.” That day, my resolve to return to my real world had begun to waver. We’d faced death together. He was willing to give up his life for me, and I gave up my chance to return to my own world for him. But now, as our lives settled into a comfortable routine, he had started loving someone else. The bathroom door softly clicked open. I quickly composed myself, marked the message as unread, and turned off the phone screen.

Through the rising steam, Liam’s chiseled features gradually became clear. He dried his wet hair, and when he saw his phone in my hand, a flicker of stiffness crossed his face. “What made you suddenly decide to check my phone?” He lowered his gaze, his deep voice betraying little emotion. Feigning nonchalance, I put the phone back. “Just on a whim, I thought I’d try your lock screen password.” “And did you?” He moved closer, the pleasant scent of his shower gel instantly filling my nostrils. I nodded, handing him the phone. “I did. And I was quite satisfied.” “All my passwords are your birthday, you know.” Liam took the phone, flipped it face down on the table, and tried to pull me into his arms. It was like he was trying too hard to prove his loyalty, only making his guilt more obvious. I lowered my eyes, deftly sidestepping his embrace. A flicker of concern crossed his face. “Eleanor, you don’t seem very happy today.” “Liam, I dreamed last night that you fell for someone else and didn’t want me anymore. I’m still a bit shaken from it,” I said, tilting my head back, trying to read his expression. Liam’s face registered a moment of stunned surprise, then he quickly reassured me: “Dreams are always the opposite of reality. Eleanor, I will never abandon you, otherwise—” As he spoke, his face gradually overlapped with the image of that young man in my memory, but his eyes no longer held the same clear sincerity they once did. I cut him off abruptly. “You don’t need to swear, I was just kidding. It was just a dream, it’s not real.” He seemed to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and his expression relaxed a little. Liam was truly terrible at lying. Otherwise, his gaze wouldn’t have darted away, his voice wouldn’t have wavered when he spoke. We were both trying our best to maintain the superficial beauty of this relationship, but inside, it was already hollowed out. Eventually, he would tire, and the tenderness would fade. I could cling to the present, I could temporarily suppress my emotions, I could pretend not to notice. But what about the baby? I had to make a decision soon.

The soft yellow lamplight outlined Liam’s sharp profile. His lowered eyelashes cast shadows beneath his eyes. His gaze was fixed on his phone screen, a faint, unconscious smile playing on his lips. It wasn’t until I cried out in pain from scalding myself with boiling water that he frantically looked up. “Did you burn yourself?” His face was etched with worry as he grabbed my hand, examining the injury closely. “Wait here, I’ll get some ointment.” Normally, I might have let him fuss over me. But I gently pulled my hand away. “I’m fine. No need to look for anything.” Perhaps sensing my uncharacteristic coldness, Liam looked at me cautiously. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. The company has been so busy lately, I haven’t been able to spend much time with you, I—” I forced a casual smile. “Liam, I don’t blame you.” He seemed to sigh in relief, then carelessly changed the subject. “Eleanor, didn’t you say this afternoon that you had a surprise for me?” Liam’s eyes sparkled, my reflection visible in their dark brown depths. A surprise? There was supposed to be one. Perhaps I should have been more oblivious, ignored the faint scent of women’s perfume on him, ignored his frequent absent-mindedness, perhaps I shouldn’t have opened that folder named “beloved.” Perhaps time should rewind to three years ago, to the moment he shielded me from the burning wooden beam. I would have chosen to leave the mission world without hesitation. “A surprise? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” I turned my head, giving him a faint smile.

Like many betrayed women, I became increasingly sensitive to details, trying to find any trace of his infidelity. But Liam seemed to be covering his tracks even more meticulously. He deleted his car’s navigation history, put Sera’s chat on ‘do not disturb,’ and even switched to a stronger men’s cologne. But he shouldn’t have forgotten to log out of his cloud drive that day. He shouldn’t have been careless enough to let me discover her existence. I still held onto a sliver of hope, wanting to know if his choice had changed. As he was straightening his suit before leaving, I looked up at Liam in the mirror. “You haven’t forgotten what day this Thursday is, have you?” “Of course not,” he said, hooking his lower lip. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, a hint of guilt flickered across his face. “But… I’m working on a project lately, so I might be home late that day. Still, I’ve already bought your gift.” He turned and handed me a beautifully wrapped small box. “Eleanor, open it. I picked it out carefully.” I opened the box, disappointed, but as I saw what was inside, I felt a sudden chill, as if plunged into an icy abyss. It was an expensive women’s watch. Identical to the one Sera had shared on her Ins page. Was his love no longer unique? Was he now trying to fob me off with the very same gift? “Eleanor, don’t you like it?” Seeing my frozen expression, Liam frowned slightly, showing a rare flash of impatience. “If you don’t like it, I’ll get you another one later.” It seemed that in his mind, I should have been overjoyed and satisfied with this gift. Even if what he offered was deceit, lies, and thoughtless dismissiveness. My breathing felt erratic. My stomach suddenly churned, a confused, dull ache. “Eleanor, what’s wrong?” I heard his anxious voice. After a brief ringing in my ears, Liam’s voice became clearer and more urgent. I struggled to compose myself, barely managing to straighten up. “I’m fine, just a stomach ache. You should go to work.” Liam, still persistent, frowned at me. “Eleanor, your face is pale. Are you really okay?” “I’m fine, just go! I want to be alone!” I practically bit out the words. Even as I pushed him out the door, he stubbornly asked, “Eleanor, don’t force yourself. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” I finally calmed down, shaking my head with a sense of resignation. Since he had already made his choice, there was no turning back for us. It was time for me to choose the right moment to return to my own world.

I lied to myself that I was just passing by, parking my car outside Liam’s office building. My morbid curiosity was acting up, compelling me to see for myself. To see who this person was, the one who could make Liam so obsessed with her, the one who kept him constantly on edge, juggling us both. The twilight sky was painted with streaks of red and gold, like trailing tassels. Sera, bathed in that brilliant light, walked into my view. She was so young, with just a touch of makeup, her face alight with a bright, unapologetic smile, radiating an indescribable youthful energy. Just like in those photos, she was vibrant, lively, young, and beautiful. And I, paying the price for staying, already had wrinkles at the corners of my eyes, which I tried to hide with foundation, only making it more obvious. I was trapped in a mundane marriage, trapped in lies and suspicion, trapped in a hollow love. Liam, in his perfectly tailored suit, looked even taller and more distinguished as he walked ahead. Sera, tripping along behind him, still clutching a pile of files, was babbling on and on. To outsiders, Liam seemed unapproachable and aloof, sometimes unreasonably harsh, even borderline cruel, with his subordinates. The crisp autumn breeze made Sera shiver, and she unconsciously pulled her arms around herself. The next moment, Liam turned, and silently draped his jacket over her shoulders. My heart lurched, my fingers freezing mid-air. On my phone screen was the number I couldn’t bring myself to dial. I suddenly remembered when I first came here. Having no parents, no friends, just wandering in an unfamiliar world – it was a terrible feeling. I spent my days persistently following Liam, hoping to complete my mission quickly and return to my own world. But Liam was like a block of impenetrable ice, rejecting my confessions over and over again. I tirelessly stayed by his side. He would often frown and say he didn’t want to hear my voice, so I would just follow him in silence. I discovered that he was just as lonely as I was. In the desolate, empty alleyways, only our footsteps echoed, always giving me a false sense of companionship. For three years, he remained distant and cold, and I was on the verge of giving up. Until the moment he threw himself over me, protecting me, that I finally realized how much he loved me. Later, he cupped my face and told me: “My entire life before this, I’ve been so incredibly lonely. That’s why I’ve been afraid to express love, afraid to commit, because I’m a coward, afraid of being abandoned.” “I’m afraid to say ‘I love you’ lightly. But if being willing to give up everything for someone counts as love, then I love you.” “If you still like me, let’s be each other’s only one. Let’s never leave each other, okay?” The world was so quiet, I could only hear our heartbeats. His handsome face, shrinking and expanding in my vision as he leaned closer, I blushed and closed my eyes, willing to drown in the moment. Liam was terrified of being alone. He said he only wanted me by his side, that even doing nothing, just being together, made him happy. But now, it seemed he no longer needed me. Everything actually had signs. Last time, when I celebrated Liam’s birthday, Sera had called too, but back then, I didn’t know who she was. In the silence, the sudden ring of the phone was jarring. Liam hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

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